God Atheist Poems | Examples
These God Atheist poems are examples of Atheist poems about God. These are the best examples of Atheist God poems written by international poets.
i seem to view the world in black and white despite my rainbow soul
my skin seems to seep the moisture of ones misfortune goal
i sharpened my broken fingers regardless of my rusty bones
in hope to fight all misfortunes and hell’s unwelcomed call
instead, i cut myself to pieces until there’s nothing left
then my rainbow soul escapes my flesh to find vengeance for my death
but i heard the screeching sound from hell shouting out my name
still i looked upon the heavens to search for the almighty fame
i raised my hands beyond the skies to get a hold of his love
but the void sucked my soul away in the absence of above
An atheist living soul was floating above on deathbed,
because if he touched it, he would leave this world.
He let the pain out and screamed through his dying soul.
A guy who was once drenched in every bit of gold
comes to him and says:
“I want to make a compromise with your soul and body—
I will save you, but for the rest of your life,
you have to serve me.”
But then suddenly the man who created every bit of the universe
comes to him and says:
“I will save you, but for the rest of your life,
you have to believe I am real.”
Then the living soul thought:
It’s no different. Both are slavery,
but in different ways.
But he thought,
since he questioned God in the life he lived before,
he would face judgment for that.
Either way, he was going to hell.
He was thinking of every possible possibility
that would grant him some life.
But he died in his imagination while sleeping.
– THEBLOODYPEN
God gave bibi
A human incinerator
and Gazans for fuel
Who benefits from my belief?
Because the last I checked it wasn't me
I mean I am a black girl
Living In a racist misogynistic world
Because why would I worship a god who allowed my people to suffer
Yet caters to the needs of our oppressors
Allows them to call us s
Why would I believe
Why would I worship
Why would I pray
To a god who ignored my ancestors
Please go ahead
Make me understand
How your god created this world
But allows racism
So tell me how religion benefits a black person
Because to me and many others
It seems like a weapon
To keep us broken
In a world that sees us as subhuman
As 'god' watches us suffer
Whilst having the power
To fix this problem
So I ask again
Who benefits from my belief
The only correct answer
Is those who don't look like me
So why would I subscribe
To a religion
To a god
Who clearly hates me
The clan of Icemen wear their mask
covering their faces while they attach
They try to cover their guilt and shame
But in the house of God that shame remains
In westerns a mask was proof of a robber
Hiding their identity to avoid their slaughter
Zorro wore a mask and The Lone Ranger too
But no one ask the question what their mask do
what kind of law protects bank robbers and Jessy James
Since when did the sheriff had to hide his name
An officer of the law has a certain fame
With that fame comes attached a proud name
Nothing like The Untouchables or the O K Coral
But something hidden hiding their moral
Pharisees and Sadducees of our own day
Chasing Gods disciples away yes away
One can't help but wonder
What will happens to their souls
After finding out that to Satan they were sold
Roll back the tides of time, and tell,
Of ancient books of myths, of hell,
Of temperance, nuns succumbed to gloom,
Entombed within their living tombs,
Of monks, and saints, and gospel song,
Born gently by the breeze, along,
Of deep toned organs' peeling swells,
Of virgins, Mary, and funeral knells,
Of dim-lit cells and penance loaned,
Which can for one's darkest deeds, atone,
Look back and lift the veil of night,
And view the man, the anchorite,
There he sits, so sad, so pale,
Shuddering at superstition's tale,
Crossing his chest with meager hand,
While saints and priests, a motley band,
Array before him to urge their claim,
To heal, in the Redeemer's name,
To climb the heavenly ladder, made,
By every patron, of every grade,
From wealthy abbot, fat and fair,
To starving child, withering there,
All of them eager to usher in,
The soul, ransomed by It's sin,
And tell me hapless bigot, why,
For what, for whom did Jesus die,
If pyramids and statues of saints must rise,
To form the passage to the skies,
Would you think man can wipe away,
With what but penance, day by day,
One single sin, too dark to fade,
Beneath a bleeding Savior's shade.
Yes, indeed we have a new Pope.
I wonder, however, if we have a new hope.
As a matter of facts, we have two popes:
One is active and the other is passive,
Which means that one is inactive,
The latter was a hell of a man who shocked: folks,
Foes, rivals, parishioners and cardinals,
By resigning his post,
By becoming a different host.
He is still a holy man, in accordance to the latest polls,
A courageous priest, who reminds us,
That man is immortal and fallible.
Pope Benedict is enjoying his golden hiatus,
His retirement in a humanely divine castle.
I don't know much about the new one.
I can only hope that he is someone,
Who's at least similar or equal,
To the former, who was wise and simple.
May God bless his soul,
‘Cause he was able to realize
That he was becoming unable
To lead effectively, and to prioritize.
As a matter of facts, habemus duo popes,
Yes, indeed, habemus duo pontifices.
Hebert Logerie Sunday, March 17, 2013
ETERNAL QUESTION
We all live in a world full of belief
Yet often with little understanding
And sciences too, deep at its roots
Religious compliance when it suits
Yet with a loyalty to the branding
And for some, can still offer relief
Ready-made answers for unknowns
Especially if there’s to be no analysis
A link to God doesn’t need religion
Yet faith still does require a decision
Some think technology is its nemesis
Like reading prayers on their phones
A supreme being can be a soft option
Even seen as a diamond in the rough
All is then done and dusted in one go
The book may be all one has to know
Alternative explanations always tough
Religions are over time, a concoction
Some claim a special insight or vision
And gaining that special pass to Bliss
Paying the ferryman to cross the Styx
As the Devil is always up to his tricks
Other options might be easy to miss
So hold back on all that easy derision
This utter silence is stone cold
There's no gaze upon the sinner
This hell has got a wicked hold
And it feels just like a winter
When I fought the darkest demons
I just fought them empty-handed
I pushed through all doubt and reason
And I nearly couldn't bear it
Why would you still demand of me
To bend my shattered knee again
Without attending to my needs
Or is it fine to just pretend
I suppose you'll answer one day
While I'm digging for some daylight
I'll be gripping all these questions
While I'm begging you for insight
Are you even up there waiting
Could you even hate me asking
Or for choosing to just let go
Of a life that's everlasting
By accepting to wield my sword
I choose to carry my own weight
I'll start to reshape my own world
While carving out a better fate
excitedly injustice
awakening stampede
stopping as imbibes
desperate necks
heeling creeks
jumping dashes
merciful joy
i am not there, please hold
the bridle and the hoof
i see nothing of blunders fray
you have fickled my merriment
daring jester
come once again telling me your terror
in what age did god befall as visceral death
teaching young heretics as you
slavery's daughters lost
was rights and lost not providing in class
or dutifully sworn soldiers appearance
castling late blooming testimony
Why is that so ?
One should come and go,
To the end we can't say no,
In Front of reality, all should bow.
If we are here to die,
For what reason and why ?
Had to leave in the middle the delicious pie,
Happens all of a sudden can't even say bye.
Gotta leave because of our sin ?
I've seen the god ones have also lean,
So, why be good all the way,
If it's already written, "that's what they say”?
Is this the simulation are we on ?
Born with the truth death and born,
Starts with a voice and ends with a mourn.
So, why be a servant? Why be ruled ?
By being good, if death can't be fooled ?
If it's easy to be worst then be good,
I think that's why becomes so, I would.
That feelings of mind and soul
That shining feel before happenings...
Measures everything like measuring scale..
As human feelings can hurt or make happy
Nature depending on that guy;
Still can't confirmed
That real feelings of one...
Necessity has come to know that
How are feelings made
Feelings like happy,sad, emotion, angry, attitude,thinkable, inert and overall....
Different feelings, always exists like that
But must be in one's inner heart..
Before happenings feelings the one
To show the path how to react..
Object is same but feels on that is always divergent and that's necessary too...
Otherwise been the same everything
Like faces differ, so the inner feel must too be--------
Perfect feeling make perfect era
Consuming everything in right mood..
So, feeling less means no emotion
That extra gift from God for everybody,
Make some personally weak or strong
That feel after getting new info.
Feelings the owner of own.
Bhayalina Baishya
It is Christmas in a pine grove
Holding vigil in a foxhole
Not an atheist to be found
As artillery shakes the ground
The pines adorned with crystal flecks
And pinecones as ornaments
A cardinal in all its red
Sits atop Tannenbaum's crest
A piece of fruitcake would taste great
(The regifted and given treat)
Sgt. Kilmer's words to this novice
(As I take in this conus coppice)
"Poems are made by fools like me
But only God can make a tree"
A semblance of a Gospel decree
And the "evergreen" nature of the greenery
With these Christmas trees, alone
I open my "C-rats" in my foxhole
Then pen a letter home from Bastogne
Sometimes a breeze can be
a pleasurable presence.
It makes the curtains shimmy as
it creeps into my room.
They ripple with a twitch and flutter now,
pleasant with a warmish ruffle.
But that breeze becomes a wind,
the curtains wobble, riffle, ripple.
Warmth has become wintry:
a wobble and a ruffle bestow
violence now with a blow.
Close that window and tell
that gust to go, quit, take leave.
Yes, it does have a name I try not to utter.
(30 Nov 2024)
What seems great, full of years and much to taste, later proves that time is not to waste.
Pass your time sojourning with trembling and fear, some of us may not have much time left here.
Considering then and now, all that’s ever been under the sun, I can still hear many ask, “what’s wrong with some fun”.
Curious we became, searching out this and that, posing as some great thing saying, hey look what I’ve got!
Forgetting our souls for which we will give an account, there’s no money that can pay for this required amount.
Covering your eyes and ears to this never changing truth, taking the broad road that doesn’t bare any fruit.
Swiftly without warning, one is plucked from this path, plummeting into a place that is so, so very dark.
Prepared is a great supper, you’re invited by the King, Jesus is the only way to enter therein.
Give thought I beg of you, stop living on the edge, look around its evening now, we are drawing closer to the end.