"Funeral of Atala" by Anne-Louis De Roussy‘Console Her With the Atheist’s Philosophy’ by Samuel Johnson The Society February 24, 2017 Culture, Deconstructing Communism, Poetry 2 Comments Console her with the Atheist’s philosophy: ____Never mind! Your grandma’s dead. It’s Nature’s way of denoting an atrophy ____In the muscles, lungs and head. I mean to say her central nervous system ____Was gradually shutting down. You really can’t appreciate its Wisdom? ____Oh, darling, must you frown? For when we too are old and in our grey hairs, ____We shall start to senesce. And that’s when all our trials and all our past cares ____Shall slowly evanesce: For darling, they were nothing but illusions ____Of an over-active brain! And that’s from whence does stem this sad confusion ____About Hope, and Fear, and Pain! They’re really nothing more than mere self-interest ____Of that selfish, selve-ish seed: And that’s why, dear, I must admit that it’s best ____(I mean for the human breed) That your granny’s not around to clog the action ____Of the great genetic pool. She got seventy years, and now it’s traction ____Has snapped back: that’s the rule. For really, what’s the point of all the dying, ____And the old, sick, halt and lame? Oh, darling, you must cease from all this crying! ____Worship Darwin and his name! Samuel Johnson lives in Richmond Hill, Ontario, and works for the L’Arche Daybreak community. Related Post ‘Island City: Auckland’ and Other Poetry by Jan ... Island City: Auckland I’ve grown to love this place of sea and noise Where buildings have assumed a regal poise As high they stab on sultry... Tell the world:FacebookTwitterTumblrPinterestRedditLinkedInEmail 2 Responses Amy Foreman February 24, 2017 Exactly. “Console” her with the atheist’s philosophy. Works equally well in fox-holes too, I’ve heard. Reply Damian Robin February 26, 2017 Take a photo of the late Charles Darwin Who buried God at his daughter’s death. Look at a photograph of dead Walt Whitman Whose lines became so long and grandiose and bilious and, literally, self-centred without recompense, He lost his breath. Each likeness is a living body quote. When alive, they’d often gain applause. Their white beards now are like the books they wrote — Accepted with a childlike innocence — like Santa Claus. Reply Leave a Reply Cancel Reply Your email address will not be published.CommentName* Email* Website Notify me of follow-up comments by email. Notify me of new posts by email. This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.