Love Atheist Poems | Examples
These Love Atheist poems are examples of Atheist poems about Love. These are the best examples of Atheist Love 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
Faith demands we hope for
What cannot be true;
Hope insists we believe
In what will never be.
They are trickster twins
Commanding our allegiance,
Wishing us disappointment, despair and oblivion.
I prefer to trust my wits, sight and a little love.
If I could go back in time,
I’d go back to when I believed in soulmates
the way I believe the stars in the night sky
guide us to a predetermined destiny.
Poorly illuminated by the moon,
leaving you to seek yourself intentionally.
Well,
I’ve learned you can throw away fate
when you make an extremist choice,
deviating against that destiny.
Like salmon in the springtime,
we kill ourselves only to respawn,
and reinvent new regret
in search of things we think we need
but already possess.
Now,
I don’t mean to come off as nihilistic or depressed,
but I’m slowly starting to stop believing in prepackaged outcomes,
and have come to the conclusion
that only children believe in soulmates.
At least I did when I was a kid.
Now I know for certain,
love only exists when it’s convenient,
and the stars, more often than not,
pick favorites.
Your eyes?
They're like midnight — not stars, just... midnight.
Dark, full of something I can't name.
I get lost there. I always do.
It’s frustrating, kind of thrilling too.
Your smile? Trouble.
The kind I’d trip over twice and still chase.
It hangs in the air after you leave —
Like perfume or a half-finished thought.
I hate how much I replay it.
Your lips —
They look like they keep too many secrets.
And somehow, even silence looks good on you.
When you pout, it’s ridiculous.
Seriously, stop that. (Don’t.)
That cheek of yours,
pressed against your palm like the day got too heavy —
and I swear I felt the world slow down.
You weren't posing. That’s the worst part.
You just are.
Every glance, every pause —
you’ve got this... poetry thing,
like you don’t even know you’re writing it.
You don’t try. You just... happen.
And I keep wishing you’d happen to me.
I have a brain.
But not just any brain — I have a brain dog.
It doesn’t sit. It doesn’t stay.
It runs. Fast. Far. Wild.
It sniffs every thought ever thought.
Dreams in 4D. Overthinks lunch plans like it's nuclear policy.
Sometimes... it chases shadows.
Dark ones. Horror-movie-type thoughts.
So I lock it up.!
“Time-out,” I say. “No more mind mazes today.”
And there — in its little prison — my mind rests. For a bit.
But oh... when it’s good?
When it connects the stars, builds worlds from ‘what ifs’ —
I give it biscuits.
Freedom. Space. Credit.
“Go on,” I say. “Think. Create. Be weird. Be wonderful.”
My brain dog is not broken.
It’s just untamed brilliance.
And sometimes, brilliance needs both biscuits and boundaries..
I say, “Go. Be mad. Be magic.”
It doesn’t always know balance.
Sometimes it breaks the rules.
Sometimes it breaks me.
But it’s mine.
My brain dog.
And damn it…
I love the chaos it brings
What would You do, O Father, tell,
If I should fade like fleeting mist?
Would heaven break, would heavens swell,
Or would my absence not exist?
Would You still paint the dawn with fire,
Though I no longer walk the day?
Would You keep faith when hopes expire,
Or let the light just slip away?
Would You still whisper my lost name,
When silence wraps my voice in stone?
Or leave me buried in the flame,
Alone, forgotten and unknown?
Would You still hold the earth so wide,
If none remained to see its face?
Would it dissolve, a drifting tide,
A dream dissolved without a place?
Would You still wait, with patient heart,
For one who’s vanished from Your sight?
Or fall apart and fall apart,
And sink into the endless night?
What are You when the prayers are done,
When holy walls begin to fall?
Does silence hide the holy One,
Or answer every broken call?
Or am I freed, by death’s embrace,
The spark that draws You close to me?
And if You fade with my last grace—
Did love exist? Or none to see?
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
To adhere to a mystical being
Who i can not see, to bow
down to a creature who
cannot speak, to love
the whispers, soft music
tears I can't feel.
I can not act as though
you are real.
It's time to embark,
Upon the journey of a spark.
Created from the dark,
Energies of souls arc.
Here to make a mark,
Creations counterpart,
Connecting light and dark.
I hoped for love,
With me being what I am.
There was none,
Who would find a point in me,
Good enough to be loved.
I, being what I am,
Cursing myself, wiping tears,
-A Deed of Deception.
And I then accepted
I wasn't one,
At least in the known eyes.
My pocket is torn and empty,
The walls of my room are blank,
A fast running clock,
Is all that hangs there.
-09-12-24
For one, I am small and increase the body of reverse
As love and hate enter space and time without poles
The largeness of sleep and dimensional reality
Going into a law of consistent inconsistencies
Raw the cost never leaves into laughter
By his own facts which enlist varied gods
Sex is the validation unto which is declaration
To make intent stronger and mind no speak into the certainty
Twisting and turning where skills are refused
War seems skill
War seems knowledge
Also fight
Yet experience makes cry and far as you run
The earth makes sure of variation
To watch through the glass
By expectancy and obliterate
It has been the patriot to call love
So the squeeze will leave as rendered outside of the king
Available as throwing the towel in
Because the lights among us would offer rationale
As tossing in self sacrifice is the magnified gain
Old friends make more dinner in adverse
Guessing without a train nails part
Mission would herald the boarding bite so clear
If ever I close my eyes
And see myself in the past
I would start praying to go back
In God, I would start to trust.
If ever I understand, what joy I had
My innocence and purity will feel glad,
To find me yearning to go back.
Back to that life when there was nothing to add
For all I knew back then was happiness
And things currently beyond explanation
But you made me feel young again
So I would pray for you to stay,
My friend.
Format of the New form of Rhyme named MlNICHU is as follows: 1. Total12 lines (4 stanzas of 3 lines each) 2. Rhyme scheme: Aba, cBc, dbD, ABD. 3. 4th stanza consists of repeat of 1st line of stanza1, 2nd line of stanza 2, and 3rd line of stanza 3. 4. Poem should stick to a chosen theme through all stanzas. A twist can be introduced in third stanza, if required by the theme, to make it more interesting. 5. Syllable count : Stanza 1: 6,12,3 Stanza 2: 4,8,2 Stanza 3: 2,4,1
agnostics’ have no hope
they cause Christians to pray for their lost, lonely souls
can they cope?
doubting His word
they can’t believe one God controls
absurd!
speak of
One who consoles
love
agnostics’ have no hope
they can’t believe one God controls
love
Why is a word that can cause an argument. Why do I get stuck in the my head? Why do I have labels on my skin? Why are you being so dramatic? Why do talk that? Why aren't you happy? Why are you happy? Why do ask so many questions? Why can't you be like the others? Why cant you sit still? Why don't you just shut up and get over it?
Why would you say that? Why is he doing this that to me? Why won't he stop? Why am I wearing clothes associated with my age yet he sees me as an adult? Why is this a tradition? Why is it common? Why won't she be nice to me? Why won't she just love me as a sister and not as a punching bag a reminder of the past the face she saw crying in the back as the show goes on!?
Why do strangers get the love of a blood when I get the fat that's collected when separated!? Why do I have to yell the same only to be met with confusion expression and laughter? Why do I get the feeling of being selfish when I always had my self and why do I have to be the bigger person with smallest number out of three?
I guess the biggest why is ( why me?).
Dear God,
She's phenomenal.
She makes me feel
Free
She makes me feel
Loved
Seen
Understood.
God, I love her.
But why,
Why did you make me
Nothing but a girl.
I love you,
she tells me
In tears.
She loves me,
She loves me, God.
But our love is a sin,
You told us so.
She whispers prayers in a kiss.
Our love makes her feel
Trapped
Our love makes her feel
Hated
Invisible
Misunderstood.
Why, God, why can’t we love.
Were we so wrong,
To be young
And in love.
Damned to Hell.
Perhaps
She and I
Will meet again there,
And we can love without judgment.