My Higher Power - Spiritual and Religious Poems

Jun 2012

Seán Mac Falls

Zz Clouds

North winds, clouds gathering,
My mind paddles in sky river,
Like snow geese or swans.

May 2012

Seán Mac Falls

Haiku ( aspen )

Aspen, stands by river,
Shouting out the noonday sun,
Dwarfed by foothill mountains.

May 2012

Seán Mac Falls

Body of Ocean, Milk and Sky

Body of ocean, milk and sky,
We are tangled in the hope of night.
The lips of the milky way, creaming us,
Stains and is **** with a taste keening;
All is creation. My meteors crash
Into your ruptured Earth. I flame
Upon your must and moisted furrows
And my toes are locked, rooted in yours.

Body of ocean, milk and sky,
In the deserts of the day you are true
Oasis. The curves and waft of your sands
Seethe and sodden my barren plains,
Are erasing all my wandering memories
Of an endless sky and now your eyes
Are the only stars I know, and your skin;
A sheet that holds the heavens shimmering.

Body of ocean, milk and sky,
Your ******* are the heaving of grasses
And wind, loft and laden in the rounded
Hills, a hoard of ****** bread, bountiful,
Ripe and strange. Your hair is an endless
Savannah, your valleys are gold and honeyed
With milk, seared, filled by my penetrating sun.
In passion we play; low on earth and deep in sky.

May 2012

TinaMarie

GOD is my co-pilot

Ahh, sweet familiar uncertainty
My joy you will not steal.

My Faith abounds, My journey's sound
For my co-pilot's at the wheel.

©Tina Thompson

May 2012

Loewen S Graves

ode to ralph waldo emerson.

maybe
there are earthquakes
in my skin. maybe
they hollow themselves
into the arches of my feet
and maybe i walk on rocks,
crumbling and cracking
under my toes.

maybe
i taste in color,
maybe i hear in
visions, maybe god
built a temple in my mouth
so its roof would fill my tongue
with the perfect words
to say to you.

maybe
heaven is not
shining white, maybe
it is green, i want to see
a forest when i get there,
i could never go an eternity
without a good climbing tree
and the breeze that blows
through my heartache.

maybe
when i tell you
that skeletons are
gorgeous, that
these empty bones
tell stories i can feel,
maybe you'll tell me
that even the corpse
has its own beauty.

maybe
you'll teach me
how to fish for crimson,
how to cast off my years
and be glad to the brink
of fear. maybe you'll teach me
what the Earth felt like
in 1836, maybe it was
a mystery, one not even
you could ever feel
working through your chest.

maybe
this familiar ache
inside my eardrums
is only my spirit
learning how to
listen
to the dawn.

selected quotes used from R.W.E.'s 1836 essay "Nature".

May 2012

kaylee adamz

Jesus kissed the devil with tongue

nobody knows the part of the story
where Jesus
and Satan
lusted for eachother like common ****
the devil kept his lips puckered
but Jesus
He used tongue

so does that make french kissing
heavenly?
or does that make Satan
a *****?

May 2012

kaylee adamz

religions of the world

the man bowing
tonight in the temple
is a man who is more lost
than a ****-head in an alley

i do not want to hear
what your book says
about right and wrong
or what will become
of the world
your religious words
have become ***** to me
after all i’ve seen
so please
don’t make me hear it again

“Praise God”
“Hallelujah”
“Blessed is He”
“Salvation is near”
the words mean nothing
but easy acceptance

instead i will read
the secrets written
on flower petals
and listen to whispers
of far away galaxies
i will worship nothing
except laughter
friendship
and adventure

you can keep your holy words
and tiny world
i will take the universe as it is

May 2012

kaylee adamz

a Good Friday *******

timothy lynch
the Catholic boy
won’t talk until Easter

he doesn’t speak in his classes
to his parents
or his friends
he doesn’t laugh or giggle
just keeps to himself
until lent passes by

i want to tell him it’s a waste
of three months

//
he’s ******* mary jacobson
the Baptist pastor’s daughter
every day after school
anyways

she’s glad
that he’s given up talking
she says he needs
to be Holier and cleanse

but she mostly
just likes when he’s quiet
during ***

Apr 2012

Loewen S Graves

at the bottom of the grand canyon, you touched my hand.

I toss my solitude down,
let it mingle with my insomniac
let it mingle with my rubble,

There is something
submerged
beneath my --
human, make me
the red of desert earth
until I crumble into
cactus spines and skeletons,
I wasn't meant
to stay here for so long

There is a catch
swimming with my organs,
it pulls when I breathe
through it, I never wanted
to see what
falling
would be like
until I saw the holes
they drilled into your spine

Your leather-spun
heart, it aches
like a sunrise,
I knew a wanting
in your chest
that stayed
hungry,
you were always
hungry
for something
I don't think you ever found,

Because there is a sand
beneath your fingernails
that doesn't rub away,
I have a dust storm
waiting in my belly,
there is a lust there
that is deeper
than the Marianas trench,

And someday, God will loop
his fingers through yours,
and he will whisper in your ear:
"Come. I can tell you
what they died for."

all you've ever wanted
was someone to truly look up to you,
and six feet underwater, i do --

(linkin park)

Apr 2012

Joe

Bodhi trees

I stand at the altar
Of a red brick Victorian
Baptist Church

Kneel at Namas
With my brothers for Salah
In the Mosque

Follow flags to
The Gurdwara
Amrit Sanchar*

Everyone has their bodhi tree
I carry mine with me

-
Seated in a building
Singing songs
To an all knowing deity
Some hold arms aloft
Awaiting heavenly high fives
Others shuffle feet uneasily

It's time for the alternative sermon
Where we air all the doubts
Where hushed voices sweet singing
Make way for swearing and shouts

Mar 2012

Ben

the garden of eden is filled with snakes

self-righteous souls
saved from the
everyday run
of the world
skulking throughout
the shadows
cast by the
most holy
fallacy
grasping at
the lost the
unknowing and
the ******
who don't accept
their beliefs as
irrefutable excuses
to be pretentious
oh how far you will fall when brought                                               low from your exalted pedestal
down on your knees, covered                                                   in the wretched filth of the masses
that you had gazed down upon                                                       in all you hypocritical glory
everyone looks the same when                                                      your eyes have been gouged out
you bleed the same as everyone                                                  when your too-godly heart is removed
you liar, you snake,
you backstabbing ****,
hidden behind
accepting smiles
go forth and
be righteous!
go forth and
beat down the weak!
go forth and fill
the world with
your treacherous,
blasphemous rage!
pray for the
strength to fell
the wicked
non-believers
pray to keep
a closed mind
and to be
unwavering
in your silent
hate, mistrust, and
suspicion of all those
different from you
pray to keep your teeth sharp
to devour those deemed less holy than thou
and go to a fitful, dreamless sleep at night
confident in the knowledge that you are *saved

so i wrote this at church today, sitting there and looking around at all the *holy* people and feeling utterly disillusioned with all the backstabbing and false smiles, all the self-righteous feelings of superiority, and i remembered why i stopped going

Mar 2012

Third Eye Candy

Our Lies Have Been Tampered With !

Truth.

To know it
Unadorned in the Raiment
Of My Theory

Completely Naked, and as useless
As pointing in a Congress of Crows

The mortality of Wisdom
Is equal to the span of our Assumptions -
Making a year of devotion, the length of time
you wandered in circles
convinced of
Something; Reality could not Fathom

Nor any wisdom prove

The Truth is how Reality assumes a shape
Before the Things to come
Assume otherwise.

So our Lies have been tampered with...

before our eyes.