Funny Spiritual Poems | Funny Poems About Spiritual

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Details | Verse |


Don't rush to wash off the sea salt 
drying on your skin;
the hopes it carries from other oceans,
those remain yet to be seen.

Copyright © A.O. Taner | Year Posted 2016

Details | Verse |

Ding Dong The Wicked Witch is Dead

Globally, miners jubilantly jump for joy
Smiles on the faces of every girl and boy
The grins of a newly opened Xmas toy
Thatcher’s dead.

Trade unionists bounce along the street
Music blaring and the tapping of feet
From nurses to Bobbies still on the beat
Thatcher’s dead.

Street parties announced in the nation
Satan who brought economic inflation
Is deceased, now’s the time for elation
Thatcher’s dead.

Its times like this I’m sad I’m an atheist
And can only shout and wave my fist
And then go to the pub and get pissed
Thatcher’s dead.

Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013

Details | Haiku |

Haikus About God: V

Omniscient guy
Yet he lets bad things happen
How can he exist?

Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013

Details | Limerick |

Three Atheistic Limericks

Three Atheist limericks 
	for April Fools' Day 2006

Dear Mrs. Schiavo: Goodbye. 
Dear Mrs. Schiavo:  Goodbye.
Fifteen years was a long time to die.
   Your husband was brave
   To withstand the wave
Of inedible pie in the sky.  

Why San Diegans remove Crosses from public Land

The SD City Council must hold strong:
Those mountaintop Christians are wrong.
   Crucifixion's the sign
   Of insensitive minds
Not the Native Americans' song.

Unrequited Faith

Dear Judeo-Christian God:
Your behavior's exceedingly odd.
   You let Hitler misbehave
   Then killed thousands with waves
And can't keep your priests' hands  off  kids'  bods!

Copyright © Loch David Crane | Year Posted 2014

Details | Verse |

Summer of '95

red and curious, looked up as
two lips 
kissed with passion,
and sins waved farewell
to leaps of faith

on a gorgeous afternoon
in Jardin des Tuileries.

Copyright © A.O. Taner | Year Posted 2016

Details | Alliteration |

Salvation for a Stranger

The streets are busy with silence,
And Sammy is in his own little world,
Focused on his own private route.
His own secret place,
Private, it’s a funny word,
A funny word just like, secret,
Sometimes we fail to realize how we carelessly carry our secrets on our sleeve.
Sammy wants his feelings, emotions, his life to be hidden away,
Still, in the silence of the streets, 
I see the sadness and stress all over his stance.

The shops are packed with stillness,
And Sammy is doing his job, keeping stands tidy, 
Keeping customers happy,
Making his manager proud,
Happy, it’s a strange word,
A strange word just like proud,
Feelings for ourselves that we sacrifice for the satisfaction of strangers.
Sammy thrives on the temporary moods of others to determine his contentment,
Yet, in the stillness of the shops and the silence of the streets, 
I see the sadness and the stress all over his stance, 
In each fragment of his face.

Between the shops and the streets, 
Sammy finds a place that he can refer to as home,
But in the silence and the stillness of his slow beating heart,
He understands that something greater than his being is missing.
And Sammy needs a friend, a friend to show him the truth.
A friend to show him that in the stillness of the shops and the silence of the streets, 
He carries sadness and stress all over his stance, 
In each fragment of his face, and in each shy shift of each shoulder,
For one reason, and one reason alone. 
He’s missing one more word oozing sibilance, 
The one word that completes, this poem and will fulfill his life.


Copyright © REGINA OLADIPO | Year Posted 2013

Details | Verse |

Inevitable Bear

Oh lonely Inevitable Bear,
Padding claws, death in white
Sorrow in recurring nightmare
Instinct’s test; fight or flight?

Camouflage against the fence,
A challenge; my subconscious fear
Ominous slowly moving silence,
“Let me in, there’s a bear out here!”

Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013

Details | Carpe Diem |


If its money I got its money ill keep. If its money I have its money ill weep. If its love that I give its love ill receive. For I am but no one who just see's beneath. Some say your only as strong as you feel, but how could we a place that's so unreal. People are hearing but..not really hearing. Why is the world so blind. I keep on screaming and screaming and screaming for things to be revolutionized. I am just a small song in a world full of cries, laughter, tears and french-fries.

Copyright © Sam Ruby | Year Posted 2013

Details | Haiku |

Haikus About God: VII

Non-existent God
Subject of poor poetry
Just like this one. Damn.

Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2012

Details | I do not know? |


Get ready for the ride of a lifetime.
Don’t get it twisted, sit back, relax, stay calm, unwind, 
trust and believe, all’s going to work out, all’s going to be fine. 
Welcome to the “Time To Change The World” traveler’s guide, 
where your safety, finance and peace of mind I hold with pride,
You’re guaranteed comfort right here on this slide; 
determination by your demographics, religion or color of skin? 
Not on this ride, all welcomed come on in. 
Are you ready? Excited? Well let’s begin. 
A wondrous world from the beginning to the very end. 
Now this is more than just a proposition, 
no longer a need for ammunition, 
gun manufacturing an abomination, 
a high priority is to save our nation. 
Once gun factories are shut down, 
farming communities would make the round, 
for where these buildings once stood, 
feeding the people would be the good.
Higher education about educating, teaching, serious learning, not the cost;
Walk the stage, new beginning, no burden of loans, not a loss.
Not to repeat the past learn from it, for it is our history;
That deep rooted Women’s inferiority complex will not be
The Black Man slave mentality no longer his-story;
The White Man superiority complex barely a memory.
The word free goes back to it’s original meaning
Not like in today’s commercials, “try it for free” shipping and handling intervening.
The new mentality is “Love Of One Nation, One World”
this goes out for every man, woman, boy and girl
Each and every family is guaranteed a home
Be it a family of ten or a family of just one alone. 
Cost of living is an affordable scale as it should be
Housing, food, clothes, jobs of which there are plenty;
set up and maintained for the many, being denied life’s essentials there won’t be any.

Copyright © karen johnson | Year Posted 2016

Details | Rhyme |

monkeys (can use tools)

Acrophobics on a tight rope, one inch off the ground.
anticipated serendipity, the deaf can feel sound. 
acutely apathetic, because anarchy rules!
abundant spiritual poverty, monkeys can use tools.
balanced insanity, becoming partially undone. 
just when they think it's over, it has only just begun! 
with apathetic interest and in my humble arrogant way.
i balance my own insanity, with a casual formality. 

but, my heart is burning cold, 
through colorless kaleidoscope.
because everything is lost, 
since we gave up hope.
it's a comedic tragedy, 
a Common abnormality. 
what goes up, must surely fall. 
and when it's mother on the line...
no one takes the call.

consistently inconsistent, with critical acclaim.
explicitly ambiguous, pretend you're not the same.
diminutive giants, diligent in our sloth.
cheerfully cynical, the authentic replica.
binging on moderation, are the charlatans of truth.
abundant spiritual poverty, monkeys can use tools. 
please proceed with caution, it is dangerously safe.
if you're a deaf listener, something just might penetrate!
but use direct circumvention, from point A onto point B.
for doubting are believers, in divided unity!

Copyright © teddy bare | Year Posted 2010

Details | Free verse |

Subconscious On My Mind

She visits in my dreams,
A place that I love to go,
For when my body is sleeping;
My subconscious starts to show.

She is not the same as when I’m awake,
She is fierce and unafraid; 
She watches over the pillows,
Where my head is soundly laid. 

She has wings just like an Angel,
Only hers are made of light;
With brilliant rainbow hues,
Enough to shine throughout the night. 

To me she looks much older,
Maybe even wise; 
One look at me and I know,
She can see right through my lies.

For her and I are one,
No hiding from the truth;
She understands that I’m growing,
Developing from my youth. 

She never passes judgment,
For herself would be included;
Her thoughts are always brilliant;
And never convoluted.  
I’m referring to my soul;
Aged throughout my lives.
She gives my words their meanings;
And my body is what she drives.

Inspiring my movements,
And wiping all of my tears;
Her voice is mine but rings through,
My head and out my ears. 

Perhaps it’s her who is writing this,
Giving me the rhyme;
My subconscious and my consciousness;
Working together for all of time. 

Although most won’t understand this,
That it is about a different part of me,
Tonight under the full-moon;
I’m setting my spirit free.

Allowed to dance in the stars,
And run across the sky;
Only to return to our body,
Suppressing her urge to fly. 

Copyright © Alyssa Waters | Year Posted 2013

Details | Blank verse |

Pages of the Book

On earth on a Mission
purpose redefined with singleness of vision
clarity came cause i sat to look
through the pages of the book

Some days skipped with nothing to dine
some nights slept with nothing to wine
yet more nourished than a royal cook
for i am best fed from the pages of the book

When I lost focus and fell
drowning in the depths of the well
yet I was lifted by an unseen hook
as i flipped through the pages of the book

What about you my dear friend
when the terrestrial race comes to an end
and death vomits all that it ever took
will your name be found on the pages of the book

Copyright © Chukwuemeka Mbah | Year Posted 2013

Details | Verse |

Behind a Vegan Moon

No one likes dead lettuce
It must be crisp and cool
And dousing wounds with vinegar
Is certainly not cruel!

For Vegans can not see
Why lettuce choose to be
On a different frequency
Than Donald Trump might be

A salad will pass away
Shivering with cold today
Disgusted Vegans will say,
"I never heard lettuce pray"

Copyright © Rico Leffanta | Year Posted 2017

Details | Verse |

Le Vacance Pretentieuse: Baggage Claim

Drained to my very heart by our slow-paced arrival, 
          I wander through tasteless decor to the metal arches 
                                                Beyond which a future is unfurled.
My bag’s innards are spilled like blood in the Bible
          Before the cold gaze of the armed man who marches;
                                                He holds the key to this new world.

The mechanistic arch stands and takes quasi-sentience 
          Beside passport control, piercing my finely popped 
                                                Eardrums with sonic solemnity.
I am refused by technology but stagger forward hence 
          Into baggage claim where a suitcase pile is propped 
                                                Up like a holiday Tetris calamity.

My suitcase is soul black and with difficulty is found,
          In its lucid eagerness to fasten itself a faux family;
			   Airports are filled with pretences.
Now we are away again, small trolley safe and sound,
          On the road from snow, heat is where I plan to be.
                                                Our intrepid journey commences...

Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |


I went out with a girl called Midnight.
At first it was fun
We laughed about witches, stars
and broomsticks, fell into romance
over student wine on a lumpy bed, and
played ouija board in a moon windowed attic
with a colourful tattooed friend.
And I liked her tattoos - and said I did,
but you said it was not allowed and
you would 'spell me'
And I laughed Mad Devil loud
But your eyes were dark, and your face
white white as your slim body moved by the
window, seeming to switch off the night.
You said I hadn't passed the test, and
that your tattooed friend had been magicked by
you, and that now I must shoo.
So I tell this story cos Im mad at you.
At times I wonder whether you were true

Copyright © James Christopher Stevens | Year Posted 2017

Details | Quatrain |

Bless my sole

My soles are set free when I walk in my house, 
Free once I walk through the door.
My soles are free to feel every emotion, 
When they walk all over the floor,

On the deep piles of plush, which shags both my soles, 
Loving tendons, ankles, heels and big toes,
The rug kneading and soothing, rubbing and stroking,
Turning both of my soles into dough.

And once my soles have unwound to an ease, 
After their escape from their cells,
My other soul’s set free from its daily torment, 
My other soul’s relaxing as well.

My sole gifts my soul a lovely small gift, 
Every day when I no longer roam…
My sole relaxes every bit of my soul, 
When I stand on the carpet at home.

Copyright © Lewis Raynes | Year Posted 2017

Details | I do not know? |

The Enemy

     I fight you every single night. I fight you tooth and nail. When I close my eyes I end up dreaming future frails. I'm not a prophet as I lay, but I walk in future's ghostly ways. Ahead I've seen troubles further sent. Oh my Lord not to me. Yet my Lord won't relent.

     I also dream of the past, mostly war's shadows cast. Sometimes of love forgone of hearts with empty songs. Girls with colored hair, in crayon flair. In others I get to go to heaven. On those occasions I wake up telling almost joyful yelling.

     So I struggle with the fight, fist and might. Eventually comes the darkness and its night. as I lose to the closure of this world, my eyelids down, closed in full unfurl. Opening them to my new venture I awake. I pray I don't see a mouth and I'm the steak.

Copyright © Ernest Martinez | Year Posted 2017