I believe that atheism is unnatural. It is a subversion and a denial of the real. It tries to reduce the mystery of existence to human reason. How pathetic, how sad. How profoundly sad that it cannot begin to conceive of the Love that is unconditional…
This poem uses the image of the child stood in the corner of the classroom, however, not in this case as a punishment by teacher.
Standing in the corner,
I can see… the corner.
I focus on the walls,
And I can touch them!
I spend much time here,
And they’re familiar;
Like a mother’s womb,
They warm-close me in.
The busy-ness of the class
Goes on behind my back.
I can hear the Teacher
But I don’t trust His word.
He speaks of ‘spirit’ and
Such things as ‘faith’:
A load of superstition,
And things I find absurd.
Dad says I’m better off,
In going to ‘my corner’.
Far better to be true
To what I can measure,
Than to get involved
With my fellow pupils
In their airy-fairy talk
Of seizing life’s ‘treasure’.
I’ll not be converted
By their canted follies.
Tooth fairies, ghosts and gods;
Trick or treat? All hollow!
All very well for laughs,
And it’s hard to stand apart,
But let them troop to church,
I for one won’t follow.
And all the more reason,
If you’ll pardon the pun,
To be guided by facts –
Like the stars at night,
They are beacons against
Myth and fanaticism:
Predictable and secure,
They constellate right.
Sometimes, I do join in,
When subjects are taught,
Such as maths and science;
These things I can accept.
I leave my corner behind,
And return to my desk,
And show off my prowess
At theorem and concept.
It makes me very sad
To see how quick my pals
Can lose the crucial facts,
And any rational incision.
They laugh and play about
Leaving it up to me to
Champion critical thought,
Thus earning their derision.
I don’t mind their jokes,
And sniggered name calling;
Their poking fun at me,
And childish ridicule.
I alone hold the truth,
But it’s kinda lonely,
And sometimes… I wish…
I could be more cool.
The classroom buzz is loud,
And peer pressure is strong.
My foot will sometimes tap
To their happy clappy tunes.
It’s hard to stand for truth,
But the truth will set you…
Be still my foot and mind!
It’s the heart that impugns.