Probably the best probable choice.

thanks, man. i wrote that when i was sixteen and it has stuck in my head ever since...

The narrator clearly does not think God is perfect. The poem is a complaint against God, or to God if He reads Poemranker. Any prayer for God’s action assumes He is influenced by the human request, and therefore imperfect. Otherwise, He would not want prayer, would act without it, and would not ask for it. Maybe He enjoys our fussing about such stuff.

Dumb doggie. Guess it's in his nature.

Can you explain the joke/metaphor? I can't be bothered to read your poeme.

Come on Eddie P. you already know.

-Zodiac either you are completely misunderstanding me or I am not making myself clear. I was in no way being defensive to your remarks about my poem. If anything I was trying to take your very abrasive response to my first comment and lighten it. What I meant by I still don't care, is that I understand that I have grammatical errors in my poetry but the way you have attacked me for them in the past has made me less want to improve and more want to ignore you. Not for your criticism which was justified, but for your character. However, that is in the past now. I was bringing back or old argument about grammar in poetry when I said I still don't care. Just to refresh your memory I had said that I felt a certain freedom with poetry where I don't have to be confined to the technical rules of the English language. You of course heavily disagreed and that was our little argument. Of course I will take your criticism into consideration...I in NO way feel that my poetry is above being criticized. I do believe that your strange misinterpretations of my comments however, are where the problem lies. I never made any hints to your wife being a "a sick Islam-baiting skankwhore. Where you picked that up from I don't have any idea. In my replies to you I was not defending myself in anyway I was trying to turn the mood from your angry, defensive, and blatantly hurt response to a more peaceful one. I was not being sarcastic if that is what you thought. I never had intentions of fighting with you zodiac. Or speaking badly of Islamic Women. Once again you have been oversensitive and did not understand the tone of my responses to you. I am sorry you felt I was defending myself or attacking you. I was doing neither. So will you accept this and may we move on.....Or shall we be destined to run around in circles until we both run into walls?

All the dyslexic stuff came from really teaching a dyslexicon highschool geometry. It's not really a dyslexic joke, though. When I wrote this, I thought it was the most genius metaphor ever. Now I think it's just preciouse beyond bearing.

The way I see it, whichever you pick you have to believe God - the real God - isn't really perfect. For a), you'd have a rough time claiming your planet was better than the real God's, since he'd just say, "How can it be? I'm perfect and you're not. If you don't understand how I run my planet, maybe that's BECAUSE YOU'RE NOT PERFECT." And it's true: without perfection, you stand the big chance of your planet being a colossal mistake. If you picked b), you're screwed already, since being perfect would make you exactly like the current God (assuming he's perfect), and you'd have to decide to make a planet exactly like he did. And I can't go in for c). It just makes the word "perfect" kind of trash and trampy, while I believe in real (or at least some abstract notion of) perfection. I mean, if you're going to make up a word like "perfect" and make it mean something like "completely suited for a particular purpose or situation," or its even stricter (maybe) religious sense, then there's not much good in fucking around with it. In short, it's probably easy for you to believe in a God who's not perfect, since you don't seem to really believe in God anyway. But for a poem that presumes a (probably Christian) God right off the bat, even ironically, that seems kind of dumb. The way I see it, you kind of have to accept that if there's a God, or at least the Christian one, he's perfect. That's part of His definition.

This dog I've seen here likes to run into traffic. It must have been hit about a half-dozen times, is missing a leg, ear, and teeth, etc. I imagine it thinks life is this same steady and unstoppable string of pummellings for everybody. The other dogs, the ones who don't run in traffic, don't say anything - or it doesn't believe them when they do.

I don't know what you mean. I was being serious :-(

You still don't get it. Listen, I'm going to make this really simple: The grammatical mistakes, logical mistakes, non-tracking metaphors, overabundant cliche, and the frankly kind of boring sensitive self-obsession in your poems makes them - your poems - susceptible to criticism. That's only right, and what we're here for. Your failure to do anything about them except feel hurt and misunderstood and snippy makes you - the poet, Tara57 - susceptible to criticism. That, too, is justified. Saying "Your poem is chock-full of grammatickal and other errors" is not an attack on you, Tara57. It's a criticism of your poem, which - well, IS full of them, like "I will drink it down possessed in this game". Saying, "You've been told dozens of times that you should pay attention to grammar on this site, and you've only gone snippy and bitter about it when anybody with a smidgen of sense would have tried to work on it and maybe improve a little" IS an attack on your person. But IT'S TOTALLY JUSTIFIED by the fact that you responded to the aboveposted criticism of your poem like a total dunce and whiny baby. IT's NOTHING AT ALL LIKE suggesting that my wife is "a sick Islam-baiting skankwhore," or whatever you said. So just stop, okay? Don't act like we're being unreasonable, like we've got some wack-ass vendetta against you, Tara57, or anything that moves on this site. If you're going to insist on thinking that way, after my patient explanation, I'm afraid I'll have no choice but to believe you're one of the dimmest people I've ever met. Please? Just think about it? I want us to be friends, Tara. Really. Thanks for your time, Concerned in Islamica.