#falsegod - Hello Poetry

What do I have to do to be her? Your god-sent angel, Taking dainty steps down a golden staircase; Descending from a city unknown to living men. I'll have a paper sign stapled to my chest, With narrow streams of blood down to my toes, And words in pink marker scrawled across the paper: "The One - Yours Truly, a False god."

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Apr 26, 2021

Apr 26, 2021 at 11:14 AM UTC

lucidwaking

May I be your angel?

What do I have to do to be her? Your god-sent angel, Taking dainty steps down a golden staircase; Descending from a city unknown to living men. I'll have a paper sign stapled to my chest, With narrow streams of blood down to my toes, And words in pink marker scrawled across the paper: "The One - Yours Truly, a False god."

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You once told me that Monday was Thursday, Tuesday was Friday and Wednesday... -well Wednesday was Wednesday and I believed it to be true You were the force that pulled the sun across my sky and brought rain, miraculously placing laughter on my parched lips. You wrote the maps and formed minutes into hours -letters into words And when you smiled, I believed it was just for me. Your wish was my command and my truth was your word. I happily danced when you pulled on my strings. You vanished in a storm and the blur of October, November, February Here one moment, gone the next -with no goodbye, apology or promise-prophecy. But my world kept flowing and the sun traced its arc across my sky without your help. My chest rose and fell and Monday was Monday again -the rain poured of its own accord and my cracked lips found song. Perhaps you have returned from time to time to your empty temple -found it void of worship and the voids filled once more. Perhaps the legends are true and you have become deaf and blind -unable to find your way back to me. I should like the rumours to be true because my world turns just fine without you.

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Mar 20, 2019

Mar 20, 2019 at 8:45 AM UTC

patterson-1

Eidolon

You once told me that Monday was Thursday, Tuesday was Friday and Wednesday... -well Wednesday was Wednesday and I believed it to be true You were the force that pulled the sun across my sky and brought rain, miraculously placing laughter on my parched lips. You wrote the maps and formed minutes into hours -letters into words And when you smiled, I believed it was just for me. Your wish was my command and my truth was your word. I happily danced when you pulled on my strings. You vanished in a storm and the blur of October, November, February Here one moment, gone the next -with no goodbye, apology or promise-prophecy. But my world kept flowing and the sun traced its arc across my sky without your help. My chest rose and fell and Monday was Monday again -the rain poured of its own accord and my cracked lips found song. Perhaps you have returned from time to time to your empty temple -found it void of worship and the voids filled once more. Perhaps the legends are true and you have become deaf and blind -unable to find your way back to me. I should like the rumours to be true because my world turns just fine without you.

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They claimed to have heard a voice in the sky A voice that promised a civilization to safety and salvation But maybe I was too deaf to realize Or even hear that such a voice could be heard from thousands of miles up high Maybe I was too ignorant and followed my own instincts and lies But who are you to blame me, I was a young child Eyes that have not yet been opened Arms kept clean to the years to come, and counting Skin left to reflect the admiration the moon has for its lover And a smile kept genuine, that served as a curtain for the crooked teeth behind it I was a young child at 9 Years passed and the moon still had a lover The sun emanated its guidance and love for her Yet the people still worshipped the voice above them I heard they started building statues and churches, to which I turned the other ear Because the only thing I believed was that they were soon to crumble And become the origin of which is rubble, A combination of corpses, offerings and slavery on top of one another I refused to believe that such a voice could lead a civilization to destruction Yet people were so deceived, their heads remained high, Exposing their necks to a god that I called a murderer But who are you to blame me, I was an ‘ignorant’ girl My eyes were coated with the truth I had stopped counting the years I was clean And began to enumerate and name the scars I hid beneath my sleeves Yet my skin remained warm from the radiance of two lovers I believed The sun guided me and the moon sang me to sleep I was an ‘ignorant’ girl at 17 The year when my genuine smile, disappeared Now I am left with nothing else but to question And in return receive an answer not worth my time nor the oppression, That I experienced throughout this lifetime I chose to not believe in them The 'them' who claimed to have heard the voice in the sky And the 'I' that chose to turn deaf enough to realize That there is no such thing as a perfect civilization of safety and salvation I was not ignorant because I had my facts laid out in front of me and them But they never believed a word I tried to verbalize, How ironic for a nation of people to believe a non-existent voice from the sky To which they turned their backs to the sun that kept them warm and to the moon of dimmed brightness and light But now, I am left with nothing So I went back to where it all started, the origin, and held my head up high Revealed my neck to the god I believed was a lie And for a split second, I thought my neck would cut open and blood would start coursing down my chest instead of my throat I believed I thought I would die n.j.

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Jul 12, 2015

Jul 12, 2015 at 5:28 AM UTC

psychotomimetic

A nihilist, an atheist, and two lovers

They claimed to have heard a voice in the sky A voice that promised a civilization to safety and salvation But maybe I was too deaf to realize Or even hear that such a voice could be heard from thousands of miles up high Maybe I was too ignorant and followed my own instincts and lies But who are you to blame me, I was a young child Eyes that have not yet been opened Arms kept clean to the years to come, and counting Skin left to reflect the admiration the moon has for its lover And a smile kept genuine, that served as a curtain for the crooked teeth behind it I was a young child at 9 Years passed and the moon still had a lover The sun emanated its guidance and love for her Yet the people still worshipped the voice above them I heard they started building statues and churches, to which I turned the other ear Because the only thing I believed was that they were soon to crumble And become the origin of which is rubble, A combination of corpses, offerings and slavery on top of one another I refused to believe that such a voice could lead a civilization to destruction Yet people were so deceived, their heads remained high, Exposing their necks to a god that I called a murderer But who are you to blame me, I was an ‘ignorant’ girl My eyes were coated with the truth I had stopped counting the years I was clean And began to enumerate and name the scars I hid beneath my sleeves Yet my skin remained warm from the radiance of two lovers I believed The sun guided me and the moon sang me to sleep I was an ‘ignorant’ girl at 17 The year when my genuine smile, disappeared Now I am left with nothing else but to question And in return receive an answer not worth my time nor the oppression, That I experienced throughout this lifetime I chose to not believe in them The 'them' who claimed to have heard the voice in the sky And the 'I' that chose to turn deaf enough to realize That there is no such thing as a perfect civilization of safety and salvation I was not ignorant because I had my facts laid out in front of me and them But they never believed a word I tried to verbalize, How ironic for a nation of people to believe a non-existent voice from the sky To which they turned their backs to the sun that kept them warm and to the moon of dimmed brightness and light But now, I am left with nothing So I went back to where it all started, the origin, and held my head up high Revealed my neck to the god I believed was a lie And for a split second, I thought my neck would cut open and blood would start coursing down my chest instead of my throat I believed I thought I would die n.j.

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