The Last Atheist

You are the only magic
that I believe in,
my dear wife who still prays
when I don’t

Peek-a-boo
I see you
in I.C.U.

I find joy in watching you hug
the many tenets of your faith like
teddy bears of God, because
your cuteness is kind.

You smile
and I see in our flowing eyes
you are my talisman, my
magic pool, and
I swim in you

but stay, and though you pray, I
don’t want a higher power. I
want you to
tell me a story, to
stay with me at my bed, and
I think that

the growing grape
doesn’t care
about the wine, cares not
to make a point — no spirits
in these many things of nature, but

I’m intoxicated by your spirit
your smile. Hug me like
I’m a teddy bear of God
and I make

a toast from the brink of death:
show me the magic
before I go drink oblivion
and tell me the lie
you’ll never leave me

You are the
only magic
I believe in

But I will die
little
a point vanishing
nothing remaining for me.
To myself
I will have never been

and if I ever loved you
I will not know

and if you ever loved me
I will not feel it because
to me, I will have never existed

I will be forever nothing
unless

you could save me forever
not as a memory
but as me, myself
and we — I mind that
I could not kiss you
if I were a mist in time

Show me the magic
or hearty spirits, but

I do not wish to haunt you, and
you deserve more than dust

Must you go from me or
must I go as a vapor?

Show me the magic,
woman of my dreams.
I swim in you.

Before I go far out of my mind
you must tell me a lie:
tell me you are God, though

perhaps
you could be my angel

Perhaps
your spirit will carry me to heaven –

seems plausible
for an angel, and
you are beautiful magic
but

how will I kiss you again
if you won’t teach me
the magic of your tales. Explain the
phosphorescent creatures in your fables
who swim in seas of ineffables
and let me drink your glow
if these be souls

Show me the magic:
any miracle will do.
I believe in you.

Be happy for now, and
don’t miss me.
I will have never been.
Good-bye.

6 thoughts on “The Last Atheist

  1. Lovely poem. Your words are pure magic. Perhaps they’ll help inspire my miracle working skills to make some hopes and dreams come true.

    Did you know that the Pope said even atheists can make it to Heaven?

    I’ve done much speculating on the afterlife subject and I dont feel like I have a perfect answer. But i don’t believe that our spirit dies when our bodies do. Maybe when we move from one spirit realm to the next we have to let go of memories (good and bad) before we are born again in a physical form.
    Although, maybe some life changing feelings can’t be completely done away with and linger like a ghost of happiness or sadness from lifetime’s past.

    I’m sick with strep throat and feeling yucky! About to fall asleep and hope for sweet dreams.

    Like

    1. Let the lingering happiness sing for our song yet to be written for the literate birds to read the score and give us our just twittering and joy.

      Like

      1. Such a beautiful reply. Twittering and joy sounds so nice.
        I’m at the hospital ER. My throat is so swollen I can’t swallow and my voice is muffled. I kept waking up feeling like I was choking all night.

        Like

    2. Oh no, not a strep tease turned sore. I hope they can strip away the Streptococcus. Those little germs should stop dancing all night and catch a cab or something. Let the immune cells boogie and make their blues hot gobbles and cleanse away soon.

      Like

      1. A strep tease, haha! That’s funny. My tonsils were so big they tested for mono too! Keflex seems to be doing a much better job already than the z-pack a Dr put me on Tuesday.
        Those little germs aren’t supposed to even be let into my mouth to party. Haha

        Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.