Poetic T Feb 18
I could clip the wings of angels.
           but still they would think
that heaven was a place to step upon.

When every god is deceased,
            and fact becomes reality .
                      Some still grasp at straws.

*"We are awoken no longer slumbering  in denial,
David Hutton Jan 7
In the house of worship on Christmas Eve
The Damien in me wants to leave
Hymns and preaching the exult
More like the Manson cult
Play the part; Bible on lap and believe.
Poetic T Sep 2017
Towers fall and the face you seek
is your own arrogance.

A stone is a single thought,
but when you build yourself
                               up in delusion,
there is only one conclusion,
                                              a fall.
Poetic T Aug 2017
Created in an image of you,
woven in the palms of creation.
But you made a broken puppet,
one that will never be real.

Sins of a father who wove wrong
stitches within, but called for us
not to sin. But why collect the coins
that you thrown within the pond?

Rippling within, you knew of its
calling yet sealed it in. Said that
we would fall from graces, but
the grace was already dimmed.

Then I realized that you weren't
what I was told, no father would
inherently seed you with this contempt,
just to know you'll fail no matter the ending

Sins of a father who isn't really there,
never would you have done this if
you wanted us beneath you chair.
I wash my thoughts of this distaste.

I know now that your just a sadness of
false words, for a fathers wish is to bring
you into a world pure. Who would want
to birth flaws if not for the purpose of failure.

Looking onward I'm my own decisions,
not flawed from birth, we all have our own
morality its human kindness, thought.
Sins of a father that never spoke any words.
Poetic T May 2017
When I was knee high to nothing
I asked inquisitive questions...

And with those answers I became me..

I would want too, if now, I asked the question??

If you are which you say? why so many books!!

If reality was based, wouldn't one book suffice,
But you made conflicting interests, like baiting
a hook. Why do we have to be slaves to ourselves
always begging on knees. To those of confused
reflections seeing you in themselves, but all the time
wording it to make them hate, difference of man
and woman others not he same as me?
but you conflict with love and preach the other thing.

If I was to ask one thing?

"Were grown now, out of the cradle of insecurities,
"Are hand needn't be held, were stronger without you,
*"I am me, not a reflection of your confused morality,
Praline Poet May 2017
You want to introduce us
to a house of gold
But gold was never really my color
For some time
It felt as though
a hundred hands held me
Led me through the weight
Pain and loss
that I must bear
My brain spins
And I see
The hands are there
not here
A hundred hands hold you
Through the loss that you must bear
But there is no loss
Only the flowers we forgot to smell
The birds we didn't listen to
The beauty we were blind to
And you
must think I'm blind
for not wanting your house of gold
But Beauty
Is in the eye of the beholder
For a hundred hands
and a house of gold
cannot take me somewhere
I'm not meant to go
Poetic T Apr 2017
Woven in tears of collected misgivings
for his voice never to be heard in the halls
of man, just echoes of nothingness.

For he was a fiction of man, fed through mouths
never one his own, for courts jested verses of
there needing not those repeated and reversed.

Words are power in anyone's hand, the tonged syllables
are hypnotic in a wrong mans purse. Listen to knowledge
and fact, falsehood is a serpent biting back.
Poetic T Jul 2016
Wilted petals fell of thoughts now lost in fragrance,
all were now but dissipated.
leaflets descended from its once proud place,
a region of lies that kept it alive in  residence.

but the smell was covering untruths
that were now showing that the smell
wasn't sweet it was bland of meaning.
All wasn't as it seemed as they were declining.

These weren't petals they were a façade of
a truth that wasn't real like the smell of
these plastic veneer that looked fine on the
thoughts but wasn't real in the thinking world.
Can you see the meaning in the words I have penned??
Poetic T Jun 2016
Thanks for the wishing of wellness but I'm an
atheist for me there is no heaven or hell,
when I'm at final breath and the curtain is drawn,
ill ebb into nothingness and dust ill become.
My moment is now of what I now do.

The right and the wrong each a consequence of
my thoughts and actions what I've been through.
Live life with an open mind not what a book tells
you to do a free mind is a beautiful thing it opens
the doors to amazing things you ca do.

I do not jest, your thoughts are yours but think of
the latter and that ink is but words its the mind
that controls you. let your thought be of others
and those around in thought, don't do for religion
do it because your human and its our nature for
right and wrong without we would never learn.
This was penned as a comment on another site where I had peened a dark piece not of gore or murder or hell just that which lingered under the bed. but my shock I got this reply:

satan takes host of our souls when we don't watch what we speek and believe fort his spirit enters into those who don't know the truth of him dont let him have anymore of you to speak of ghost darkness evil that is when you invite him in me i know all to well of how he works looking back i loved graveyards witchgcraft haunted house no fear in me but 50 now and knowing the truth trust me He is very sneeky I have the LORD and love GOD but satan still reaks havoc if I'm not careful just an FYI  GREAT

this was my response.... above
Poetic T May 2016
Hatred in a misinterpretation of what
people think I linger in. I have no aversion
to this thought process, I just choose what
I know is true.

That understanding of facts where those who
delve to regurgitate inconsistences upon myself.
Why do you wish to ascend your misgivings on
me when like a viper all that is bitten upon is untruths.

Repugnance on a belief where I have non, free thought
facts and realistic virtues are what my life is based upon.
But you spite me as I am not held back I reject your
inaccuracies that have taken over a cognitive thought.

Deities are like clothes so many have been and then
like fickle thought, kicked to the curb for the
newest trendiest misgivings of whom to blame for
what we have subdued on ourselves no other to blame.

*"I have objections to inaccurate speculation
where truth just doesn't seem to connect on thought,
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