And the cause of death, like the cause of life,
is simple biology in action,
but does not explain where I once was, nor
yet where I am bound. An existence spent
between two unknowns; a spark between two
terminals. The mystery of conscious
thought that somehow must survive. Oh god, pray
for me and all agnostics on this plane
of eleven dimensional space/time.
With nothing to believe in but despair
at the human condition, I can make
excuses for inaction and convince
myself that cynicism is valid;
that such angst is purely realism.

Comments
poetjude | April 16, 2008 - 12:39
I enjoyed this Wilky. Though not an agnostic, I am a deist who has no particular conviction about life/ consciousness after death one way or the other. I particularly liked 'a spark between two
terminals'
jude
"Cacoethes scribendi"
http://www.judesworld.net
Caolan_le_Paddy | April 16, 2008 - 13:30
I love this poem and not just because I am Agnostic myself. Great poem, loved it.
animan | April 16, 2008 - 19:56
Yes, this is fascinating. I like the way this particular agnostic, Voltaire- style ( I think), covers his/her bets by still making a plea to God but covers it slightly by being 'au fait' with recent physical thought. But the ending slightly confused me - is it saying that cynicism, angst, inaction are naturally ancillary to agnosticism? Maybe that's a silly question - maybe I'm a bit out of my depth!
WilkyBarKid | April 17, 2008 - 11:46
This was an unfinished poem that I found in my notebook. The end lines therefore may not follow in a continuous train of logic. But you are not meant to necessarily agree with the conclusion. The protagonist of this poem (for I am inclined to write in different voices) is making pseudo-intellectual excuses. Maybe I try to cover too much ground in 14 lines of a quasi sonnet.