"pantheistic" poems
"Dear Mr. Mouse,
I understand that you're just trying to keep warm, and you're welcome to stay under the couch. But please refrain from coming into Daniels room or running under my feet when I'm in the house. Thank you. Amen."
"Did you just "amen" the mouse?"
"Yes. I have a very pantheistic view of the world, therefore the mouse is an extension of God and it makes perfect sense that I would end with "Amen.""
"What if the mouse is an atheist?"
"Well then maybe he'll still be flattered that I would think so highly of him."
"Or maybe you'll have ****** him off."
I laid awake in bed until the early hours of the morning, and every sound I heard that night was the pitter patter of little mouse feet- he had received the letter, and, being horribly offended, was coming to exact his revenge.
Feb 27, 2014
Feb 27, 2014 at 1:28 PM UTC
Does creativity spring[?]
boundless
from the well of the abyss,
so we can sing.
When you crawl up out of that well and
up my ankles up my
jeans
up over knee hills
through thigh valleys.
Reach a finger tentatively
approaching
my hidden alley,
a dark moonlit crater you're
encroaching.
My Annabelle.
My Annabelle
Lee.
Hate me later,
love me now,
then
take your leave.
Perpetually pantheistic
endless cycles keeping man
in a vast panorama of
meaningless[?] accomplishments.
Is this it?
We are embryos patiently awaiting our birth.
We are gods,
each
awaiting our flock of faithful followers.
We are embryos awaiting birth.
Oct 29, 2015
Oct 29, 2015 at 12:25 AM UTC
taking place at bar after rare occurrence of
an early night. ordered a single whisky and tall beer.
the drunkard opposite found agreement in the random
statements i interjected between him and blonde bartender.
cheaesing his Miller to my whiskey because of false-statement
passed through these winter-warped lips. cheersing, to words
that are false belief. if only to retain him to placated stupor.
opened book of Style, left-to-right this hand underlining sentences
and rectifying the self-criticism ever present. talking louder,
'i just don't hear as well as i once could.'
he orders another but sends it to vacant chair adjacent mine.
stumbling, moving from his ritual spot. sitting, he claims
his upbringing as Southern Baptist. after i announced the
denomination to my rearing in childhood.
'you're a christian, good.' but
i don't have the heart to elaborate upon the crazed and
pantheistic beliefs i hold in truth.
'you were baptized and saved?' i lied,
for truth is my soul will burn in hell according to this man's
-- self-proclaimed sinner -- drunkenly spewed theological underst-
atments. his words slur as he falls into elaboration of Bible conspiracies.
adding a few
'fucks'
here and there,
and always in concern of his opinion of Muslims -- awkward.
my boss in background chimes; we had a similar conversation
moments before. now my words betray everything stated during
prior moment. i order another beer then excuse myself to ****
Sep 29, 2015
Sep 29, 2015 at 12:31 PM UTC
I saw a satyr in the woods,
A centaur in the meadow;
Travelling on, I remarked on a fawn
Hallowing out reeds for a pipe.
The world around me was green,
The water ran clear, cold and fresh,
The air I breathed was historic.
Crosses were in the future.
No Mecca to visit,
No Temple to rebuild.
I am a beach *** a sun-worshipper, a tree hugger.
I will worship the dove, not the sacrifice.
I will homage the god of the kingdom that is here,
Before she rejects her offspring.
Dec 30, 2019
Dec 30, 2019 at 9:49 AM UTC
The ordinates concealed in your infinitesimal rationale
Insufficiencies portraying vestibules in your feverish attires
Every new soul you see makes you feel homeless
Dizzying altitudes you feel inside the depth of cavities
Indifference on pain and sufferings you crave for
And,
Hell; you feel inside grandeurs of perspectives
Hate; for the dearth of adulation on you
Liken Gaia could have never taught you of your frailty
Postulation of Karma and de-carnation of meanings made you converted
You were on the path of revolt
Against, say, cosmos!
Every symbolic gestures remind me of your meddlings
Penultimate; utter grievance of never ending poignancy
The night sky could have never baffled about your existence
Palpitation could have never made you shiver
But you have cried,
Of your loneliness!
Say,
A tiny fraction of clairvoyance I gave
Pulled you down into the puddle of wanderings
Instigation of a melody; created the symphony
A mere touch; drenched you into the silken lake
I spoke for your heart and you praised
Then, I gave you love but I got caged
How could I have done whatever you wished?
Since nobody knows,
The culminating dichotomy of your pantheistic ideas,
And of a maggot growing inside you
Breathless desires governing your feet,
And the time falsifying your plutonic ancestry
Mosaic glittering over your virtuous self,
And the tapestry of vanity covering your abysses
Depleting number of Hordes and Tartars fighting for your existence,
And devalued meaning of your modern-self
All those songs that never could soothe you
Teeny panting of your blasphemous heart
Multitude of distances you travelled
Series of condemnation bouncing between you and me
Your fleeting poverty
Your affections on materials
Like you die the death of pertinence
Love shall never please you
Nonchalant, over the,
Embargo you created on the faith
And the game you created on the bliss
But you shall never win
Since, you are a mere human soul
Bless you!!
Sep 2, 2018
Sep 2, 2018 at 7:52 AM UTC
Fleeting
The glimpse of the freckled face behind
The screen door
••
The way to the river twists thru the forest
---
Images of pantheistic gods and goddesses
Are there
To guide you on
•••
The freckled face
The smile
Did you see it?
••
Do you love me?
I'm your friend
••
The high mountain has been bombed to ruins
All the cities are in flames
••
Be YE the wise child of tomorrow
•••
Standing in the center of the storm
•••
In the middle of the madness
The only place
YE can't be harmed
Sep 28, 2013
Sep 28, 2013 at 3:11 PM UTC
Don't talk to me about religion
I just don't want to know
All of the species and their origin
Who goes upstairs and who below
In a pantheistic universe
I don't know which God is true
Which one is better, which one worse ?
Who's God is better than whose ?
It doesn't really matter which is real
We are all responsible for ourselves
For what we think, for what we feel
We can't blame it on anyone else
I think that the only need for religion
Is to back up those who are weak
Who don't allow themselves an opinion
Rely on an authority for how they dare speak
All the wars over all of the years
From the Crusades, right up until now
All of the deaths and all of the tears
Surely could have been avoided somehow
Aug 8, 2017
Aug 8, 2017 at 5:12 PM UTC