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Skyler M Mar 22
I am a stain,
and I am a saint,
I've never confessed,
And I swear I've lied,
At least a thousand times.

If you keep up with me,
You'll pray to the Devil,
And loose all your morals,
I will savor the fire He rains.

I will walk the lines,
That trace my pentagon,
Cause I'm a sinner,
Eating Christ for dinner.

If you keep up with me,
You'll pray to the Devil,
And loose all your morals,
I will savor the fire He rains.

A blight in your sight,
I will tempt you to Hell,
In all my lavish seduction,
A burning desire to do you.

Does it feel better?
When God points your compass?

If he were proven unreal.
Where would you go?
Would you burglarize?
Would you assault?

Would  you  ****?
If you believe morals are reliant on a higher power?
You gotta reevaluate your own morals.
CIN Feb 16
In my younger days
Jesus was a white man
with long brown hair and a beard
He cared for children
And protested against evil
He was perfect

I think i saw jesus once
In a dream of a memory of a vision
He had calloused skin on his hands
Golden brown like illumination
He was reaching for a coke bottle
On the bottom shelf of a gas station display freezer
I think he must have been tired
Because i could even see the dark circles under his eyes
Behind the wire framed glasses he wore
When he looked up at me
He gave me a weary smile and walked away to the register
Coke in hand

In the days of hardships
I called myself agnostic
Because god never cured my sorrows
And i was never blessed with heeded prayers  
But maybe jesus got tired of being perfect
And left heaven to be someone inferior
Someone human

I can believe in that jesus
I read a poem that inspired this a while ago. I was a christian as a kid, not by choice of course but still. I think that going to church and being involved in that sort of thing gave me a lot of false hope and disappointment. These days i'd rather believe in something beautiful and inspiring, but not perfect.
Michael T Chase Mar 2021
Reason is "the messenger of the realm of the body" which "fostereth the growth of all things".
So just as it says in the Gospel, that any speech good or bad of Christ is a blessing.
So to is any denial or doubt of God.
Tis but the messenger of reason only adding water to the Tree of Life.
mark soltero Dec 2020
never look down
it’s weak
never miss what’s lost
it’ll never be found
move forward
be your own god
give thanks to the lord
because his reflection is yours
you’re your own creator
this is your world now
Kelsey Banerjee Jun 2020
father,
it has been over a decade
since my last confession;
in fact,
that crisp lenten day,
you in your purple,
I refused to come in,
giggling,
because I had committed nothing
worth an intermediary.

under lock and key,
anxious not to make trouble,
a natural people pleaser,
what could I child do but
laugh at sin?

today my prayers are mingled -
mangled,
a clutter of languages and deities:
my god is one but also many.
I’m not even Catholic anymore,
But for old time’s sake,
will you listen?
ari Mar 2020
hellbent on slaughtering
the devils at my door
held an exorcism
so they can't hurt me anymore
mouthful of sin
the father has me on my knees
because i won’t pray for him
i owe him no apologies
i’m not your disciple
i fear no god
i won’t follow blindly
the pious lies that i’ve been told
i will sin to spite you
Michael R Burch Mar 2020
Lean Harvests
by Michael R. Burch

for T.M.

the trees are shedding their leaves again:
another summer is over.
the Christians are praising their Maker again,
but not the disconsolate plover:
     i hear him berate
     the fate
     of his mate;
he claims God is no body’s lover.

Published by The Rotary Dial and Angle. Keywords/Tags: plover, skeptic, atheist, agnostic, Christians, god, creator, maker, fate, mate, berate, lover
Dylan McFadden Feb 2020
Weightless, he was
Bound to none –
A wispy, wandering
Wind

He danced upon his days
Like waves,
Without a ripple
In the end…

‘Cause times when he
Would come too close,
Feet nearly touching
Ground

He’d hide away
Into his dream
And scream
Without a sound

---

Weightless, he was
Bound to none –
A wispy, wandering
Wind

He felt no wonder
‘bout his life;
Nothing felt
Magnificent…

‘Cause nothing could
Command his heart
Or pull him down
To stand

So ‘ever he just
Drifted there
In fog and
Foreign land

---

Weightless, he was
Bound to none –
A wispy, wandering
Wind

He settled for a
Fairytale, but
Woke up feeling
Grim…

‘Cause deep within
The darkest depth –
An abyss of Truth
Suppressed

He knew that there was
More than this:
The “Ever-Expanding
Nothingness”

---

But…weightless, he was
Bound to none –
A wispy, wandering
Wind

.
CK Baker Nov 2019
the red wine stops fermenting
a young man turns to gray
the voice of truth and promise
leads one and all astray

we follow with a notion
of what may be ahead
that voice of truth and promise
has risen from the dead
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