A Deist's Poetic Perspective: I Be I Who Am It: The Ultimate It

Just letters that hopefully form legible words to stimulate blinded minds to the sunshine of reality ...

A Deist's Poetic Perspective:

I Be I Who Am It: The Ultimate It

 Written By Marvin Thomas Cox-Flynn de Graham

Copyright © 2021 Marvin Thomas Cox

DBA: Marvin Thomas Cox-Flynn de Graham

All Rights Reserved

 I

 

I be I who am It!

I exist,

though you deny

with questions of why,

of when, and what for?

Is there something else?

Isn't there more?

 

 II

 

I have no head to scratch,

but I do wonder:

What more do you want

that you wouldn't plunder?

What debt, do I,

as I who am It,

owe to you?

 

 III

 

You exist,

you have life,

and you think you think,

but have

another think coming.

 

 IV

 

Your assumed significance,

your self assessed intelligence,

is more than slightly askew,

and is all about you.

Yet within existence,

within all of Existence,

you are microscopically minuscule.

 

 V

 

Yet you seek me,

but not as It that is I,

and why is the reason of it,

but to complain and cry,

seek more to gain,

for your selfish self,

and you as Man alone?

 VI

 

Tell me if you will:

Why should I who am It

honestly give a rat's a*s s**t?

 

 VII

 

Dost thou imagine me

so small,

so laden with your own

insecurities of inferiority,

that I as It

would give diddly spit,

would find myself as It,

discomfited for lack of it?

 

 VIII

 

Would I as It have a fit

if you failed to believe,

that I am It,

refused to worship,

me as It,

refused to obey me,

as It

as if, somehow,

I will cease to exist

as the It that I am

and all for the lack of it:

 

 IX

 

Belief's worship of obedience

in prostration's groveling

of thinking I need it

or actually give a s**t

about matters

strictly Human,

and pitifully petty?

 

 X

 

Do I who am It

stand at your door

as an attention seeking

Man w***e,

wanting more and more,

and more than more,

and what for?

 

 XI

 

What do you possess

that I who am It

needs or requires

of my deeds of Creation

to address or admire?

 

 XII

 

I am simply I who am It,

The Ultimate It,

whom you proclaim as Love

whilst the fact is

I, who am It, am above Love,

existing beyond any fathomed

Human concept of imagination.

 

 XIII

 

For Love is your own

communal creation,

of couples and mating,

cities and cultures,

societies and nations,

lovingly butchering one another

in invasions declaration's proclamations

of doing so, so you say,

for the cause of attaining to Freedom's Liberty,

preservation of Motherland's Country,

and (here's the cackling coffer's punch line)

-- as last resort of mind blinded inspiration --

for the sake of my, so called, Holy Name.

 

 XIV

 

What makes you think

that I who am It

am, or would ever be,

that which you call HOLY?

In comparison to what?

Man and men with a plan

to rule over other men,

who've been madly had?

 

 XV

 

Holiness is a concept that is purely

of Man's own impure contrivance,

in attainment's gain of supremacy

over those, considered by haughty

and snootiest uppity men,

as lesser and lower men,

denied esteem's honor of respect

and relegated to existences alongside

domesticated and placated animals,

as, mere, Human Sheeple-People Cattle¹1.

 

 

XVI

 

Dare I, who am It, viciously proclaim

Mankind as a Humanity become

nothing more than Dumbed-Down²,

unthinking and desensitized,

romanticized for pleasures' eyes,

Intelligently-Stupid³, Human Cattle?

 

 XVII

 

Indeed I do, for I lack your fetish,

for ignorance, superstition, and religiosity.

Thus, I, who am It, do declare that Mankind

has, tragically, become no more than

Human Cattle, expressly fed and bred,

for the milking and shearing,

and for the harnessing to that plow

known as war after war in the name

of putting an end to War,

that only ends (always ends without lasting amends)

upon the bloody Butcher's killing floor?

 

XVIII

 

Holy f*****g S**t!

Such proclamations

are wholly your own invention's

delusionally deranged sensations

wholly and emphatically comprised

of your own schizophrenic concoctions

of outright lying to the masses of Mankind,

via nothing more than dumb a*s full of s**t,

Bullshit!

 

 XIX

 

If I who am It

had ever thought to need

myself known or declared,

in any fashion, to Mankind

to choose myself a man,

to represent me as a certified,

no Bullshit, Prophet of It,

I would have given serious consideration

to that late, great, deceased man:

George Carlin!

 

 XX

 

George Carlin⁴,

a bonafide Atheist

who did not believe

in me as I who am It,

and did not make up

tales of me as I who am It,

that are altogether untrue

and utter lies of men

as Man with a plan

to make a fast buck's profit

from Man's, slyly, slippery

grifter's⁵ pokes

to blind the very eyes

of all those who dare to simply ask

the whys of that Unholy Trinity

craftily manifested as

Taxes, Tithes, and Lies.

 

 XXI

 

If I who am It had chosen to create

an Ultimate It Religion,

It would be The Religion of It,

It left alone to do that which It does

in simply being I who am It

who has created all of it

as that, one and only

Extant Catalyst Reactant

Ultimate Source Point Of Origin

Of All Existence,

who does operate and serve as

Generative Orchestator of all that is and will ever be.

Yep! That's me, plain as can be.

Such an Author of Generative Orchestration, needs no prostration,

needs not a Goddamn thing from Man!

And owes to Man NOTHING,

not an inkling's zilch of zero's nada,

not an iota of diddly squat,

for what is, or what's not.

 

 XXII

 

Man needs to understand:

I have no Divine Plan,

for as such are but the wiles of men

duping dumber men as Man.

 

 XXIII

 

I, who am It, am a Generative Orchestrator,

an Artist, devoted to the Canvas,

and expanse, of all Existence,

and am not a micro-manipulating manager.

Neither am I, who am It, a Narcissist,

for such is the ego-maniacal mind

of men without peace of mind,

lest they rule and fool other men

as Mankind's Humanity: The Human Race.

 

 XXIV

 

And what of EXISTENCE ORCHESTRATION?

EXISTENCE set into being of existence,

within all Existence,

in Intelligent Design's most NON-personal perfect order,

seasoned well with a smidgen of utter Chaos

that shall never make a lick's sense

to the tiny and limited mind of Man,

which assumes that I have needs:

Needs to be believed in,

needs Man as a friend,

needs to be worshiped and obeyed,

needs to be loved and praised,

needs a relationship with things created,

simply to exist until they exist no more,

for no work of art exists forever,

or it would not be art whatsoever.

 

 XXV

 

No ifs ands or buts (about it),

my Religion would be the Religion of It:

I who am It let be and set free from all responsibility,

for that which Man and Man alone

has done to f**k up his own world

fast on the way to extinguishing

his own existence,

of which there is only one,

and of I who am It giving another,

there is none,

as in no more fun under the sun

at my expense as I who am It,

should Man piss off

the one and only opportunity

his existence shall ever be provided

as that true master of his own fate

and future hope of living existence

as The Human Race.

 

 

(Written October 22nd, 2021)

Author's Note

EVIDENTIAL FOOTNOTE PROOFS:
1 Sheeple-People Cattle — Sheeple-People Cattle — Sheeple-People — A word and term which I have expanded upon and find myself favoring in my attempt to communicate the all too factual reality that people tend to allow themselves—even seem to want—to be led, watered, and fed, much like sheep, trusting others with decisions and truths regarding their lives, their futures, their welfare, and their safety, rather then shouldering up such responsibilities themselves as individuals, in finding and enjoying the comfort of numbers. The word sheeple was first coined by actress and Wall Street Journal writer, Barbara Anderson, in 1984.

2 Dumbed-Down — transitive verb. : to lower the level of difficulty and the intellectual content of (something, such as a textbook) also : to lower the general level of intelligence in the dumbing down of society. Dumb down Definition & Meaning – Merriam-Webster https://www.merriam-webster.com › dictionary › dumb...

3 Intelligently-Stupid — a terminology of my own coining, creation, and contrivance.

4 George Carlin: Religion Is Bullshit — https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8r-e2NDSTuE

5 Grifter — https://www.thefreedictionary.com/grifter

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Love the paradox of "lovingly butchering one another"---don't we?
And we think so highly of ourselves but those who are high above us really don't give a rat's a*s....we are too busy loving ourselves we have no room to love others.
It's a sad state....it's a really good poem here.
j.

[Marvin Thomas Cox-Flynn de Graham]

Thanks, Jacob,

this is truthfully an article all dressed up in Poetry's clothing as an attempt to reach the mind-blinded disciples of Organized Religion ...

If you should find the time and fannish devotion, I do believe that you would and will enjoy my Poetic-Article: Violence -- Not Love -- Is The Overwhelmingly Predominant Force At Work Within Our Universe ...

Marvin Thomas Cox-Flynn de Graham

[Ken Simm.]

I believe in lots of things.
I believe in the Loch Ness Monster and that St Columba was one of the first to see it.
I believe in Art not for Arts sake but for creativities sake.
I believe in Education and experience.
I believe that time flies like an arrow, fruit flies like a banana. (Groucho Marx)
I believe that there is no such thing as a destination.
I believe the journey is everything.
I believe it is possible to fall in love, fall from your own grace and the right not to be infallible.
But I don't believe in God given gifts.
And like you I don't believe that anything bigger than us gives a good damn.

“I can believe things that are true and things that aren't true and I can believe things where nobody knows if they're true or not.

I can believe in Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny and the Beatles and Marilyn Monroe and Elvis and Mister Ed. Listen - I believe that people are perfectable, that knowledge is infinite, that the world is run by secret banking cartels and is visited by aliens on a regular basis, nice ones that look like wrinkled lemurs and bad ones who mutilate cattle and want our water and our women.

I believe that the future sucks and I believe that the future rocks and I believe that one day White Buffalo Woman is going to come back and kick everyone's a*s. I believe that all men are just overgrown boys with deep problems communicating and that the decline in good sex in America is coincident with the decline in drive-in movie theaters from state to state.

I believe that all politicians are unprincipled crooks and I still believe that they are better than the alternative. I believe that California is going to sink into the sea when the big one comes, while Florida is going to dissolve into madness and alligators and toxic waste.

I believe that antibacterial soap is destroying our resistance to dirt and disease so that one day we'll all be wiped out by the common cold like martians in War of the Worlds.

I believe that the greatest poets of the last century were Edith Sitwell and Don Marquis, that jade is dried dragon sperm, and that thousands of years ago in a former life I was a one-armed Siberian shaman.

I believe that mankind's destiny lies in the stars. I believe that candy really did taste better when I was a kid, that it's aerodynamically impossible for a bumble bee to fly, that light is a wave and a particle, that there's a cat in a box somewhere who's alive and dead at the same time (although if they don't ever open the box to feed it it'll eventually just be two different kinds of dead), and that there are stars in the universe billions of years older than the universe itself.

I believe in a personal god who cares about me and worries and oversees everything I do. I believe in an impersonal god who set the universe in motion and went off to hang with her girlfriends and doesn't even know that I'm alive. I believe in an empty and godless universe of causal chaos, background noise, and sheer blind luck.

I believe that anyone who says sex is overrated just hasn't done it properly. I believe that anyone who claims to know what's going on will lie about the little things too.

I believe in absolute honesty and sensible social lies. I believe in a woman's right to choose, a baby's right to live, that while all human life is sacred there's nothing wrong with the death penalty if you can trust the legal system implicitly, and that no one but a moron would ever trust the legal system.

I believe that life is a game, that life is a cruel joke, and that life is what happens when you're alive and that you might as well lie back and enjoy it.”
― Neil Gaiman, American Gods

[Marvin Thomas Cox-Flynn de Graham]

Ken,

At this juncture of my wobbling into the annals of the elderly life of 69 that obviously is not a sexual connotation as sex has become a hex's memory of bygone days of romantic ways and precious memories of that only light and love of one's life now remaining as a burning bright memory to remind one of all they never did deserve but were blissed to experience and cherish to that final breath drawn upon this planet some damn fool named as Earth (I mean: If Man is so utterly significant to all existence within Existence that Man has also named our Universe, then, why not name our planet, Man's Land, and the Universe, The Womb from which we were spawned? 'Course, as such does imply that some Generative Source had to have impregnated such a womb that in Big Bang's Explosive burst gave birth to our presumed as Our Universe's Man's Land rock of existence), I have arrived at the conclusion that I believe nothing based upon face value ... And I question everything ... Curiosity may have killed the cat, but it has well served to make Man a much more dangerous animal and existential threat to the very planet upon which he resides ... Thank you for your highly informative and exhilarating comment, and for taking the time to read and endure this piece of pretend Poetry that is actually an article in disguise ...

Marvin Thomas Cox-Flynn de Graham