#agnosticism
I found healing there
It's like He was speaking to me in my Walk
‘Chew your gum, girl,
For the smells they pump through the pipes is meant to tempt you.
Lascivious meats and unholy spices’
So redeem yourself when you stray
Gosh, heck it all and **** it
But under God, Hell awaits the ******
‘I am covered by the blood of the lamb
So I shall be saved’
Same chapter, different verse
I am ****** all the same.
Sep 5, 2023
Sep 5, 2023 at 3:51 PM UTC
Sometimes, such as on days like today
I sit and I mourn for my long-forgotten faith
I miss the certainty of a Most Divine Plan
Those self-assured speeches of a holy man
Assurances he speaks for the Ordained Track
Promises of a Supreme Being who's got my back
On these days when I wish, reminisce and long
I can't help but wonder where it all went so wrong
It's not that I Believe that There Is No God
Or even that I am unsure whether to believe or not
I don't bother questioning if god is real
For there is a bigger issue at play, I feel
When I became faithless, it was just in HIS eyes
"Faithless" I am not; there's just so much to surmise
I have Faith that the sun will warm each new day
I have Faith that these heavy clouds will give rain
I have Faith in the ground solid on which I stand
I have faith; just not Faith in the Words of a Man
See, I have come to accept that I soon will die
More surely, in fact, than the sun that may rise
Any day that sun may not appear
That day of darkness that we so fear
I accept that any moment May advent my end
I accept that there May be a sunrise just round the bend
With my flawed, weak powers of human perception
Dependent as they are on my senses' inception
I cannot Know a god, not many nor One
Just as I cannot Know that tomorrow will come
Maybe it will, and maybe there is
after all,
But truly--
who among us can Know anything
at all?
Jun 28, 2022
Jun 28, 2022 at 6:51 PM UTC
You are God, you do not exist to me.
Are you the god responsible for mur-
dering millions of children every year?
If you did one thing, you do all things. Take
your blame, God. You alone are on trial.
/
Answer for your sins. Explain your transgre-
ssions against humankind. You alone must
pay for the pain imposed on this planet.
The time for faith has passed, take action now,
before you lose your weak hold on my life.
/
Why did you take my father? My daughter?
Give me back my loved ones and I will be-
gin to consider my belief again.
You who have claimed piety, stand for me
and justify my suffering at once!
/
You are still absent, what demands your at-
tention more than this? Are there more pressing
concerns in your kingdom of dirt? What is
more vital than claiming your forgotten
son? I abstain from this myth forever.
Dec 25, 2018
Dec 25, 2018 at 9:57 PM UTC
I was (am)
Brainwashed
Conditioned
Indoctrinated
Into believing in a God that
Can’t hear us
Into praying to a God that
Can’t hear us
Into fearing a God that
Can’t hear us
I find comfort in my conditioned beliefs
Like a safety blanket, I find peace
I just wonder why God chooses to ignore me (us)
Dec 19, 2018
Dec 19, 2018 at 9:45 PM UTC
Karmic omissions saturate the spell
Of which was deserted eons ago
Left overtaken by virulent vines
Seething from how the Almighty's sun shines
They seek to confront everything they can
Within the rhythms of algorithms
In a most preposterous way in day
For the absolute lack of its match
To their steely visions of humdrum
So now, it is finally up to us
To play the now vacant, coveted ***
Our dear God was, before He took the bus
May 14, 2018
May 14, 2018 at 5:54 AM UTC
Camouflage confusion
To reduce reduction
While your ducks in a row
Are the only thing left to go
Spiral down the stairwell
Denied pleasures in hell
Guilt admission is leaking
All over the God you're seeking
Which does not listen to
In a state of you
Not verse, not chorus
Just a standard torus
As we blindly get by
Before we forever die
Mar 10, 2018
Mar 10, 2018 at 2:24 AM UTC
We are all our own God
And that is why we
Choose to not assign ourselves
To any one religion
Our bodies are our temples
Intended to reconnect us
With our innermost pure self
And most of us treat them like ****
We are all perfect
We just need to remember
How to better reflect
Our holiness
As of this moment I swear
To love myself fearlessly
To eat healthier
To breathe deeper
To think kinder
To drink safer
To be authentic
I swear to treat myself
As though I am God
And I swear to respect everyone
As though they were God too
Aug 4, 2017
Aug 4, 2017 at 7:43 PM UTC
My original spring was wound,
Tight as a Swiss watch.
The fore-finger and thumb
Of the nun turned the crown *****
As only the Sisters could do.
Any subject could be converted
Into a lesson of the life of Jesus.
A plus sign becomes a cross.
*Even Jesus knew the angles
To be a carpenter and Savior,*
Grace and Faith kept time.
The Sacrements were frequent topics.
How many would we receive
Between Baptism and Extreme Unction?
After Confessions, I once asked,
Is it possible to sin between Penance and the curb?
All things are possible with God.
You didn't want to die with a blemished soul;
Being responsible for more thorns and nails
Pounded into the emaciated, pitiful flesh
Of the one to emulate,
With Grace and Faith.
I was fervent in prayer.
I wanted to carry the Holy Eucharist
To the housebound or hospitalized;
Through the throng of thugs
Ready to defile the wafer.
I was ready to die a martyr,
With a benevolent, sober Jesus,
Guarding from the clouds,
Right hand raised like a Judo chop,
Blessing me, preparing me,
Protecting me with a corporeal force field.
Grace and Faith kept time.
I pined to wear the Altar Boy's Cassock,
Soutane-like, long and black,
Topped with the surplice;
To ring the bell, light the incense,
Hold the Communion Plate
Under Mammy's chin
As she knelt in supplication,
Before the Madonna,
My blessed Mother.
Did she envision me as a Jesuit,
Tending to the lame lepers
In the jungles of Peru and Africa.
Me, who issued forth from her.
Faith kept time.
The dark hour was closing in.
The spring was loosening,
Unwinding as I relaxed.
Marian sat beside me,
Thinking of our orders
At the drive through.
The Nehru-collared clerk
Slid the glass window,
Listening to our wants.
I offered her a napkin
To keep the crumbs
Of her little black dress.
Feb 18, 2017
Feb 18, 2017 at 10:15 AM UTC
I broke up with God
at our favorite eatery
in our favorite booth.
We settled into familiar creases
and asked for the usual.
My eyes lazily staring at fingers
stirring the straw around the ice cubes,
God cautiously spoke up:
“Is something wrong?”
“Nothing.” (Thinking about the dormant phone
concealing behind the lock screen
the open Facebook tab
lingering over the relationship status section.)
They silently mused over the laconic reply,
til the waitress showed up with the food.
“Thank you!” God blurted with agonizing alacrity.
I received the sustenance lifelessly
and aimlessly poked at the burgers and fries.
The waitress eyed me with vague inquisition,
popping a bubble in the gum between
big teeth, refilled my water
and pirouetted hastily.
We ate in ostensible harmony,
the silence gripping like a chokehold,
the visible anxiety and subdued resolve
settling like a stifling blanket
over the child waking
from a nightmare—
Til we couldn’t breathe,
and I ripped back the covers
and looked into the eyes
of my tormentor.
“It’s not you, it’s me.”
God, taken aback by the curt statement,
dropped their burger with shaking hands,
silently begging with wetting eyes
a greater explanation.
So I elaborated:
“It’s not you, it’s me.
For your immaculate conception
was created by human hands,
your adages rendered obsolete
by human words,
your purpose and plan for us
distorted by human nature—
I cannot hate myself any longer.
I cannot pretend to know you at all.
Who my mother and father say you are
is not who my friends think you are,
nor my teachers, my pastor,
the president, Stephen Hawking,
Muhammed, the KKK, Buddha,
the Westboro Baptist Church,
Walt Whitman, Derek Zanetti,
******
and Billy Graham.
I am told you care who I bring into bed (and when),
and what movies I watch,
and what music I listen to—
I have not heard what you say about
child soldiers, the use of mosquitos,
or the increased destruction of the earth
which you proudly proclaimed your creation,
or the poverty and disease and famine
which has ridden so many of your children—”
God interjected,
“But you’re chosen!”
I snorted,
“You say I’m chosen
to spend eternity with you—
why me?
Why’d you pick me among
thousands, millions, billions?
I’ve been told I’m ‘chosen’
since birth
by others like me—
those with fair complexion,
blue eyes,
blonde hair,
a firm overt ****** attraction towards women,
and a great big house
with immaculate white fences
delineating their Jericho.
I’ve already fabricated eternity
here among the other ‘chosen’
and there is a world of suffering
right outside the fence
and I see them
through the window of my bedroom
every day.
Am I chosen,
if I don’t vote Republican
Am I chosen
if I am Pro-Choice
Am I chosen
if I cohabitate with my girlfriend
Am I chosen
if I never have kids
Am I chosen
if I say ‘Happy Holidays’
Am I chosen
if I don’t want public prayer in schools
Am I chosen
if I don’t want a Christian nation
Am I chosen
if I don’t repost you on my wall
or retweet your adages?
I’m tired
being the ubermensch,
for it has not brought me
happiness
and I blame you.
I will not ignore
the cries of the suffering
believing it is I
who is destined to live
in bliss.
I will not buy
Joel Osteen’s autobiography(ies).
I will not tithe
you my money
for a megachurch
when another homeless shelter
closes down.
I will not tell a woman
what to do with her body,
or a man
that he is a man
if they say they are not.
I am neither Jew nor Gentile,
and I will stand with
my brothers and sisters
of Faith and Faithlessness,
Gay and Straight,
Black and White,
and apart from these extremes
free from absolutes
the ambiguous, amorphous
nature of Humankind
which I praise.
There is much pain and suffering
in this world,
potentially preventable,
but hardly can I believe
it’s part of your plan
to save
me.
I will not be saved
if we are not
all saved—
not one will burn
for my divinity.
The gates will be open to all—
and perhaps you believe that too,
but I’ve gotten you all wrong
and that cannot change,
as long as there is
mortality, and
corruption, and
power, and
lust, and
greed.”
God whined, growing bellicose,
“It is through me that you will find eternity,
I am the one true god!
I am the God of your fallen ancestors,
it is because you have fallen short
that you need me!”
I replied, growing in confidence,
“We have all fallen short,
yes,
but we are also magnificent.
We have evolved,
we have created,
we have adapted,
we have survived.
We have built empires,
and we have destroyed them.
We have cured diseases,
and we have created them.
We have done much in your name.
We’ve done good,
and we’ve done evil—
And unfortunately it’s all about
who you ask.
Your name is a burden on the oppressed
and a weapon of the oppressor.
You are abusive, God.
You tell me you are jealous.
You tell me apart from you I will suffer for an eternity.
I’m scared to die, yet want to die,
because of you.
You have made life a waiting room
that is now my purgatory. It is
Hell On Earth.
So you see,
it’s not you,
it’s me—
a mere mortal
who has tried to put a face
to eternity
and it has left me
empty.
And also,
it’s me,
for I have learned to love me,
as I have expelled your self-loathing imbibition,
and the deleterious zeal
I have proclaimed
through ceaseless
trepidation
and self-flagellation—
I have learned to love me
by realizing I am not inherently evil,
that my body is not evil,
that my mind is not evil,
and, ultimately, that
there is no good
and there is no evil.
My body is beautiful,
my mind is beautiful,
this world is beautiful,
and we are destroying it
waiting for you to claim
us.
I leave you
in hopes to see you
again one day,
and perhaps you will look
different than I have
perceived or imagined,
and in fact
I certainly hope so.”
Just then the waitress strolled back up
with a servile smile:
“Dessert?”
“No, thank you,”
I smiled politely.
And with that,
I paid the check,
and took a to-go box—
walked out into the evening rain
to my car,
put on a secular song
that meant something real to me
and drove off
into the night—
feeling for the first time
free
and alive.
Jan 30, 2017
Jan 30, 2017 at 1:03 PM UTC
I found religion at the bottom of a cereal box
and ended up saving it in my pocket for awhile, spending my sundays
beside spiritual cannibals speaking of the Supergalactic
and eating on the good word while waiting for the Hand of god
or so-called Miracles; only recently have I discovered
the sacrosanctity of the seed, the egg, the space between matryoshka dolls,
the amoeba before it splits or the amoeba afterwards, baby teeth
and graduates, letters stuffed in pen tips in hands of poets
kneeling with the armless, contrapposto women waiting
inside blocks of marble and boiling pots of Hellenic brass worshiping
in the house of the hesitant spring crawling from the earth’s core
on stolen time;
I say a heretic’s “Amen” to the parting of lips,
the movement of breath, all werewolves on the half-moon and
the moon before the harvest, bless the ant hills full of false gods
that band together in the symphony of the subatomic and glory be
to the Truth! the only truth, that just as all things die in the end, so too
are all things born at the beginning, a fact lost on all those preaching
sacred scriptures in the dead language
of the Impossibly Huge.
Jul 10, 2016
Jul 10, 2016 at 12:17 AM UTC
Is it real to you?
Sitting there with a set jaw and intense stare
I know you are a logical person
Could such a story ring true in such a brilliant mind?
A God who sent himself to die for the creation he made
As a part of his own plan to glorify himself
To show the love he has for his "sons and daughters"
Despite this love
He continues to send people like me
And people who are ten times the human I will ever be
To burn in hell
For eternity
Dec 25, 2015
Dec 25, 2015 at 1:46 AM UTC
We paint our lives on color film
Absorbing familiar reflection
And we watch as we live
So little in color film
We love, we ****
We bleed, we die
Do we think God is watching?
Do we think we are the reflection
Why are we watching?
Mountain sides and Lilly beds
Prairies and the mighty ocean
Now held in our hands
Nobody is there
Is anyone here
What is everyone watching?
Loneliness painted in window sills
Plasma radiation gleams on
White, pictureless walls
Millions
Watching sunsets
And passions flame
Lust pervert
Warm golden skin
Radiates tangerine
And the lonely feel
Vicarity
Painting red
On Blank slates
And fill with vacant desire
Million of on lookers
Alone, watching
Watching the world burn
Watching mothers cry
Watching beaches sludge
Watching deserts snow
Watching brave children die
Watching brothers betray
Watching love fail
Watching countries fall
Watching debts paid
Millions of miles of tapes and bits
Project a millions of protestant cries
Endlessly, eternally
Do we think God is watching?
Do we think?
While we're watching
Bathing in radiation
Children don't know how to read
Live their lives on
A television screen
A whole generation
Living vicariously
Do we think?
Millions of gray souls
And avid voters
Watch angry men spout nostalgic redirect
Watch their children live their lives
Watch game shows and advertisements
Watch the six o' clock news
Watch police shoot children in the street
A million beautiful, lonely people
Watch red carpet vanity
Watch million dollar celebrity parties
Watch the American dream lash the
Backs of the fuedal and disenfranchised
Watch depraved souls sacrifice self
For the company of fame
Meanwhile children don't read
Do we think?
A thought original
Is there any thing left to believe
Everyone so sure there's nothing they haven't seen
Nobody leaves their house
Nobody can bear to read
Just watch the world slip into insanity
Ignorance is the greatest weapon
Yet all I see is guns blazing
80 billion dollars to dry the desert
Not a one for education
American families gather
Around their TV screens
They can't stop watching
They're afraid of what they see
Do they think God is watching?
I hope God isn't watching
Dec 17, 2015
Dec 17, 2015 at 5:09 AM UTC
GOD is a white guy in his 30’s. GOD wears a royal blue Petsmart hat. GOD has on a grey, short-sleeve button down shirt with a clip-on i.d. badge. GOD’s i.d. badge contains no letters or numbers, just a picture of GOD wearing an i.d. badge with a picture of GOD wearing an i.d. badge on it, and so on into infinity. GOD has cold sores on the corners of his mouth. GOD wears stone-washed jeans. They’re too short, but they have an elastic waist which is really comfortable, so it kinda makes up for the whole “too short” thing. GOD needs really thick “George H. W. Bush” glasses so he can open the rodent cages at work. GOD grew a mustache to hide the scarring from years of using old crusty disposable razors. GOD wears high-tops from 1998. They’re rather worn, but remarkably clean. GOD knows what to do with his hands, but not so much his fingers. GOD is in her 20’s. GOD is sad sometimes and she doesn’t know why. GOD nods. GOD once proved that the country of France does not exist. The fact that the country of France actually does exist makes the accomplishment that much more astounding! GOD is the dark and terrible Dragoyle! The first and last of his kind! GOD is a vicious, taloned beast born of the boiling pits of Borok-‘Tor! His reptilian wings expand across all of space and time and, with even the most gentle twitch, stir up a dense shear of molten flame scalding the skin of all Creation! GOD’s ancient black-diamond eyes, forged from eons of wrath and pain blast-melted in the great furnace that is his heavy heart, peer only inward, leaving him an uncompromising and limitlessly powerful but ultimately humiliating and repulsively weepy creature! GOD is All and All is king of all of All and all of He! GOD is the Unmirror. GOD is the final mathematic tragedy of what happens when we only ever try. GOD is the ghost of a dead thing that never was. GOD is the shattered, petrified shell of Pandora’s box cast down to the crackled crust of Pan’s windless desert. GOD loves you more than himself because GOD knows you are real. GOD farts on books! GOD sips on soup! GOD is a very serious actor in full make-up and costume doing an intense and superbly crafted representation of God, getting to the heart, the true reality of what it is to be God, the essence of Goddom, but in the end fears losing control and holds back, resulting in not genius but blasphemy! GOD masturbates to the Salt-n-Pepa 'Shoop' video! GOD caught you ************ to the Salt-n-Pepa 'Shoop' video! One time GOD got so drunk he forgot you were in the room! GOD invited you to the event “Max’s Karaoke Birthday Bash”! GOD knows you, but isn’t in know with you! GOD is 8,9,12,5,9,4! GOD is . . . ! -hha-hha- GOD is heard breathing. GOD breathes like you do when you’re asleep. At the start of each breath there is a very poignant yet very subtle lip-smack sound. The breathing is steady, never changing pace. Like that of Darth Vader only intentionally ridiculous. Like that of a ticking metronome only . . . lifeful, which is a brand new word.
Aug 30, 2015
Aug 30, 2015 at 1:06 AM UTC
Truth is the product of the pursuit of knowledge.
Though most people, I have found, do not embrace but fear knowledge.
I believe this to be due to the fact that knowledge is something that cannot be tailored to an individual.
What is, is.
Whether you like it or not.
Knowledge can often be daunting and go against the very foundation of everything you hold "true".
But truth is not there to keep you complacent, it's there to drive you, it's what you should live for.
The pursuit of knowledge is an ongoing process, constantly evolving.
One day you can feel without a shadow of a doubt that you "know" something,
and the next day be proven utterly wrong.
This is why it confuses me so that people hold steadfast to antiquated "truths",
catalogued by humans, and passed down through generations.
Like high school gossip, slipping from one grimy hand into the next,
riddled with the stains of ignorance and manipulation.
Knowledge can often isolate.
Spark hatred in those comfortably numb.
But those on the pursuit are not to be feared or confined,
they're to be celebrated and joined!
Because truth is freedom, and it will only unify.
Don't give up, don't give in.
May 19, 2015
May 19, 2015 at 3:22 AM UTC
Drop by drop
Life is an hourglass
Waiting for the Heavens to empty
While Hell starts to be covered
With perfectly cubed sand particles
We love it. Admit it we love hell
We love the sinning and the bells ringing
We want to be stuck there until
A hand flips the hourglass
again. Reset until the next fuckery.
Dec 23, 2014
Dec 23, 2014 at 12:30 PM UTC
do not let a mind confuse you
minds make you think youre ok
hm this is nice
and youre blindsided by a god who loves only when he wants to
but what should you know
your mind says everythings ok
Dec 1, 2014
Dec 1, 2014 at 11:07 PM UTC
I try hard to pray
I'm waiting for you to say or at least display
that you are here
I volunteer and adhere to all they say I should every year
Even when others sneer
It's all unclear
But I'm beginning to loose my faith
I don't attend church
Just trying to search
In a holy building I won't find you
But the truth is overdue
It must be untrue
For everywhere I pursue
Leaves me blue
I'm just asking for a clue
Because I'm beginning to loose my faith
Some say you're in the air
I stare in despair
Beware of the lies
Some say you're in the sky's
Maybe it's just a guise?
A disguise which denies me my eyes
I was baptised
Does that mean I get to share your Celestial City?
What a pity
You see I'm beginning to loose my faith
Just come down and denounce your scripture
It's all just a contemporary mixture
I can't see the picture
Maybe you're in my mind
Created by an unkind humankind
I am suddenly no longer inclined,
I am suddenly no longer blind
Never mind
I have not lost my faith, I never had it
It was never innate, I must admit
There are no big pearly gates
Just our small debates
For I have truly lost my faith.
May 23, 2014
May 23, 2014 at 5:09 PM UTC