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Goodbye Jesus

Agnostic/atheist Poetry?


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Guest ComfortablyConfused
Posted

I'm looking for some poetry written from an ex-christian (atheist/agnostic/unitarian/non-religious) for inspiration. Does anyone know of any or want to share favorites?

Guest open eyes
Posted

I actually write a lot of it. Lol. I'm shy about sharing, but I am working on writing a book of poems. I am also in the process of developing an online e-zine to promote artists, writers, and musicians. I have happily spiritually free poems, and poems that involve a lot of anger with organized religion. I am too shy to post one, but I am new here,and maybe I will open up. Here is a line from one of the poems, "Walking inside the labyrinth of shallow answers, loneliness completes me." If you like that line, maybe you will like my poems....If interested send me a message. Thanks.

Guest ComfortablyConfused
Posted

Thanks to both posts. I book-marked the Sunday Morning one. I'm a beginning poet too so I get shy or intimidated too. I just de-converted this spring/summer and I still haven't made myself express my feelings poetically yet. That's cool that you've been able to. I guess I'm trying to get inspired by other people's works.

Posted

None of my poems are about being an ex christian but I have lots of poems.. Some published.

 

They are mostly about my fucked up childhood and addiction.

Posted

OK -- to all of you poets on this thread. This site would be enriched if you would post some of your work. If you are too shy to do it, please send me a private message. I would like to see it! I am not a poet, but I appreciate the arts and poetry. I promise if I made any comments, they would only be positive or constructive ones.

Posted
OK -- to all of you poets on this thread. This site would be enriched if you would post some of your work. If you are too shy to do it, please send me a private message. I would like to see it! I am not a poet, but I appreciate the arts and poetry. I promise if I made any comments, they would only be positive or constructive ones.

 

 

A good poem

 

 

 

A poem will drag

 

out memories

 

and pull out

 

tears.

 

--------------------------------------------------------

 

 

 

nightmares

 

 

 

I remember the days when the world was shrinking

 

Everything was closing in on me and there was

 

No way out. I remember when I wanted

 

Nothing more than to die. I remember

 

When night time made me cry, and

 

Day time only made the fear

 

Subside. I still remember

 

When nothing was

 

Better than what

 

I had. I wish

 

That it was

 

All a

 

Dream.

 

Junk.

 

End.

 

--------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Fragments

 

 

 

 

 

Is poetry for?

 

Expressing emotions or!

 

Is it for sharing beauty with?

 

Those who are present in.

 

Our greatest?

 

moments.

 

 

 

Is it rhyme and meter or?

 

Is it the pure essence of.

 

Feeling alive!

 

-----------------------------------------------------------------

 

Father Love

 

 

 

Kiss me with your burned lips.

 

Hug me with your tracked arms.

 

Guide me with your calloused hands.

 

Speak to me with your barley breath.

 

 

 

Feed me with your stolen food.

 

Cloth me with your ragged garments.

 

Sing to me in your betraying voice.

 

Look at me with your jaundiced eyes.

 

 

 

Pawn shop tickets, broken glass,

 

Torn shirt, empty beer cans, collect calls,

 

Broken promises, mason jars, cigarette butts,

 

dirty jeans, old pictures, and the stench.

 

 

 

No memories of parks and fairs or walks in

 

The grass. No thoughts of father’s day. Only

 

memories of pain and drugs and dirt. Lots of dirt.

 

My dirt filled memories. Thankyou father love.

 

 

 

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

 

Piece of love

 

 

 

Your bright yellow skin

 

crushed against paper

 

folded like a boat

 

floating in a sea

 

 

 

poured like sugar

 

into a Vessel

 

on a journey

 

into me

 

 

 

filled with water

 

shaken like anger

 

pushed until

 

the Metal cries

 

 

 

prepped and ready

 

the devil takes off

 

straight into ecstasy

 

and Beauty spills

 

 

 

cold and lonely

 

desperate and dangerous

 

where is my Blanket

 

warm and safe

 

 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

 

Sweet Release

 

 

 

Cold, alone, bitter.

 

I only want for this

 

two minutes of heaven.

 

Cold beautiful surgical steel

 

pressed against my flesh.

 

Piercing embrace, the

 

warm wave of death

 

kisses me. Alive?

 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

 

Untitled #13

 

 

 

I am but a boy

 

In the body of man

 

Crying like a child

 

For his mother and her touch

 

In the darkness of the steel

Posted

I'm not sure how good this will be, but here it goes.

 

No more gods, no more Jesus, to pick up the pieces,

Except, me and me alone.

No more 'faith will pull you through'

Except the companions one calls their friends.

No more defending on the misplaced conscience, and the twisted love.

To know deep down that the book got it wrong from the start.

No more 'we are all guilty of sin,' unforgivable, rotten and petty.

And that we are only lining the pockets of those who claim to be doing 'god's work'

or 'speaking for god' or 'know god himself'

No more revisionism of history, for what has been done in the name of religion.

But for once face the responsibility, and lighten that burden on the conscience.

No more bowing to the images man created for himself,

but to accept his fellow men, their virtues, their vices, for who they are

through compassion and understanding, through the love for life.

To value the human being, as the most precious gift ever given by the cosmos.

No more burning of brimestones, no more screams of agony from hell.

No more fluffy clouds of heaven, nor a heavenly father, overlooking our lives.

For heaven is to show compassion for all species of life, and receiving in return.

And hell being the neglect of life itself

Guest ComfortablyConfused
Posted

Those are really amazing. In all honesty

Posted
Those are really amazing. In all honesty

 

I think they are too!

Posted

thanks alot guys. I hope to have 3 of those published by January!

  • 2 weeks later...
Guest Omega Man
Posted

Something Fishy

 

Fish swim this way...

Fish swim that way...

If I draw one this way

I see a Bishop’s hat

If I draw one that way

dinner for my cat

If I draw one their way

I think I smell a rat

  • 2 weeks later...
Posted

My Little Champion

 

My strength - my frailty

bedfellows at odds

like hot breath on thin skin

of a shiny bubble of soap

lovely little rainbows swirling on top

agonizing the inevitable

predictable

Pop

 

What be the offspring

of iron strength and fragility?

Bondage

Imprisoned by the strengthening of weaknesses

Shackled by the weakening of strengths

 

From the chains of this dichotomy

no rescuer will come

no knight of flesh and blood

his knees are broken

no god of sky or heaven above

his eyes are blind, his ears have deafened

my handsome prince and cross-stitched hero

both drifted with the stars of dawn

Gone

 

My help is

no outsider

no holy presence

no armored fighter

 

But help is close

close and waking

small, gaining strength

In the making

to some, she’ll seem a mystery

but I think I know her … my rescuer

I think I know precisely

my little champion

is me.

 

poetic licence

  • 3 weeks later...
Posted

Approval No Longer the Master

 

I despise these fucking standards

I wish I could simply erase

This god-damned approval addiction

Decades fed with perfectionism

 

Self blame a constant companion

Yet the guilt does not all lie with me

Perhaps it is the warped standards

Of a false-sterile society

 

I've grown to detest sterility

A playground for deception

It breeds a disease in secrecy

Murdering individuality

 

How can I grow beyond it

Without loosing a ravenous beast

Whose been chained and finally tastes freedom

With a lusting impulse to feast

 

Upon the cravings denied it

Starved the freedom to feel

Do I allow the beast expression

Therein will its soul be healed

 

Will the ravenous desire to feed

Meet its soul companion

Freedom to express, to feel

The famine put out to pasture

 

Approval no longer the master

 

 

march 14, 2007

judith piper

Posted

Here's a few more. I would have added them to the previous post, but I didn't see an edit button. I've got plenty more, mostly about searching and about my back and forth between "do I believe/do I not believe?" :shrug: And other stuff. :wicked:

 

********************************

 

Bubble Trouble

 

I lived in a bubble

for a long time.

Sometimes I'd try

to poke through.

 

I'd push and push

Stretch that bubble

But then.....BOING

 

I'd bounce right back to the same place again.

 

Finally one day along came a pin

Pricked a hole in the bubble's skin.

Decompression pulled me out

Sadly, others were crushed within.

 

Then I'll be befuddled

when I find myself

stuck to another bubble.

 

Damn this bubble trouble!

 

Stuck to the outside

A force trying to pull me in,

I almost slip through

but then I remember

I'd been given a pin.

 

POKE!

 

Some inside escape like I

Others are crushed within.

One thing for sure that I've determined

Ain't no way in hell I'm going back in.

 

 

March 12, 2007

judith piper

 

**************************

 

In the Fishbowl

 

In a fishbowl

I bump the glass

trying to swim

beyond the transparent barrier.

 

To survive beyond

I need a new design,

different equipment

from my gill-oxygenated carrier.

 

My guppy eyes stare

wondering, pondering.

How would it feel

to breathe that air?

 

I shrug

 

Swimming back to my castle I play awhile

among the faux coral and seaweed.

I ascend upon sprinkled kelp to feed,

then settle again with a contented smile.

 

...tap...tap...tap...

 

Back at the edge with my guppy-eyed stare.

 

In a fishbowl

trying to swim beyond

the transparent barrier.

 

march 12, 2007

judith piper

 

**************************

 

Soul Stew

 

 

Soul you're not at peace

Continually you're stirred

A variety of vittles

All topsy turvy churned.

 

These vittles boil and cool

O'er and o'er again

Why not let them simmer

Allow the flavors blend.

 

Soul be not discouraged

As the flavors brew

For 'tis spice and simmer

That make a tasty stew.

 

 

march 6, 2007

judith piper

Posted

Look at some of the threads below and you'll find some very dramatic poems. I just added a poem myself a few days ago, but I guess everyone's been too busy discussing the presidential race to read poetry right now. :shrug:

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