The Stories We Tell to Cope and Scare

Universe coming from nothing and by nothing
perhaps going back to where it came.
No sight or sound of purpose.
No true meaning to any name.

Emptiness of insignificance in the cosmic scale,
heart of the night renting
at discount rates aplenty.
Pick your secret room for the slowly dying,
to conceal hope's last fading wail.

But it's not time yet for lying
in the unconsolable shaking,
when there's a grand new opening,
a park of precious amusement
for the spiritless and breaking
soulless shadows riding their cart
on rollercoasters of made-up meaning
to satisfy the withering heart,
a mask and its smiling face
slowly torn apart.

In the vast cosmic ocean uninhabited
by deeper ground to praise or blame,
you dare to invite the uninhibited
put a bittersweet end to shame.

These are the stories we choose to share,
amusement by bonfire of darkest hours.
Some entertainment to cope and scare
dealing with that self-wound of ours.

But do take a look if you so dare
at the source of the fire's fragrant soothe.
Having created your own maps to share
you're prone to kindling lies with truth.

You think the stories aim to impress
and compel consent by sense's sober reason.
Yet the arousing aroma of the burning sacred
stupefies temper for tantrums of hatred
fits of intoxication for the willing treason.
Impress or suppress?
Sober duty of good sense
or bitter drive to dispense with the divine?
Standing on nowhere to indignantly draw the line?

Even the iconoclast may indeed
have his proper place,
not as the blinkered tyrant
but sense's faithful servant.
But distort not the image
to obscure the sight of God's human face
if that leads from the graceful Lamb
to the gripping embrace of the serpent.

This one may be pretty hard to follow. The basic idea is to critically describe the hopelessness of life under the assumption that God does not exist, and to draw out some of the proclaimed implications of that as "stories" that people tell when they gather in darkness around a bonfire made out of that which is sacred. There is also a critique of the idea that these "stories" are supposed to be rational rather than just arising out of rebellion against God. Admittedly, this one is pretty dark in its tone, although there are indications toward hope in the last few paragraphs.

Poetry on steroids!
Thanks

I think this poem needs an additional stanza or two that highlights an idea that was probably a background influence but didn't come to the surface as much as it should have. The source (or at least one significant source) of people's anger against God and a desire to make him go away is the realization of their own corrupt fallenness against the mirror of God's holy perfection. This can be seen as a type of echo all the way back from Adam and Eve trying to hide themselves from God after the fall. The line about "God's human face" near the end of the poem is significant because it hints at the solution to this problem in the atonement made by Jesus on our behalf (although "God's human face" may perhaps in a way also be interpreted to mean the image of God in humans).

I like this explanation here. Well said.

Hey Chris this may be senility kicking in on my part but is it possible that the following verse Isaiah 5:
18 Woe unto them that draw iniquity with cords of vanity, and sin as it were with a cart rope: 19 That say, Let him make speed, and hasten his work, that we may see it: and let the counsel of the Holy One of Israel draw nigh and come, that we may know it!
might not influence you to modify this line...soulless shadows riding their cart .....maybe dragging instead of riding. The only reason I am so audacious is that some Bible verses have reminded of a certain poem. I can't say which Bible verses but the poems title is 'Thanatopsis'. I don't think there is a poem dark enough or gloomy enough for some of us that thrived on music like the following and I realize it isn't poetry per se but then some of us have been 'real' sinners.
Just Dropped in (To See What Condition My Condition Was In)
Kenny Rogers




(Yeah, yeah, oh-yeah, what condition my condition was in)
I woke up this mornin' with the sundown shinin' in
I found my mind in a brown paper bag within
I tripped on a cloud and fell-a eight miles high
I tore my mind on a jagged sky
I just dropped in to see what condition my condition was in
(Yeah, yeah, oh-yeah, what condition my condition was in)
I pushed my soul in a deep dark hole and then I followed it in
I watched myself crawlin' out as I was a-crawlin' in
I got up so tight I couldn't unwind
I saw so much I broke my mind
I just dropped in to see what condition my condition was in
(Yeah, yeah, oh-yeah, what condition my condition was in)
Someone painted "April Fool" in big black letters on a dead end sign
I had my foot on the gas as I left the road and blew out my mind
Eight miles outta Memphis and I got no spare
Eight miles straight up downtown somewhere
I just dropped in to see what condition my condition was in
I said, I just dropped in to see what condition my condition was in
Yeah
Yeah
Oh-yeah
Songwriters: Mickey Newbury. For non-commercial use only.

Thank you for this idea. I'm just not sure if it would be easy to change that part without breaking continuity with the metaphor of an amusement park where people are essentially "amusing themselves to death" instead of facing the stark reality of the hopelessness of human life without God.

Hey Chris I was about to say I'm no poet, but I did write a poem around 1988 when I drank a lot and would play Gustav Mahler 'song of the earth' interpretation of Lao Tze, I believe and play it incessantly. It is just that reminded me of the verse in Isaiah. Maybe as you say, you will get an idea for another poem. Even a dark one, although you are probably in an area with a lot of snow coming that lightens up the region even on cold dark nights? One thing though, go to Bible hub or some site and read the commentaries on Is.5:18-19