Best False Belief Poems
Denial will get you no-where, a dead end road
A false belief, hanging on untied string
It keeps you from uplifting and living fully
It prevents genuine care, not the fire burning
It restricts truth and contiuously badgers your soul
When it all caves in, there is no use complaining
- Denial built the bridge that fell -
Heidi Sands
4/12/26
(C)opyright
Athena
the dutiful daughter standing behind her father
in lightning thick with aegis assurance
read to protect her family
and counselling them times of need
Athena, the grey eyed goddess
who watches carefully with graceful wisdom
coercing ignorance into obliteration
solutions fly into her hands
for her to dispense and she desires
Athena of the City
philosophizing with the common man
trading amongst mortals
companion to heroes in distress
strategic with the broken soldier
Athena the virginal queen
modesty made attractive
purity prioritized in beauty
who ran through rape's smitten fires
with the strength of civilization in her hands
Yet even you, Pallas Athena,
illustrious among even immortals,
are not without your faults
Even you fear death's decay
dragging your name into Lethe's depths
You weave with Fate's spindles in faulted pride
as your equals fall beneath your altar
spinning spiders slaving in cinders
and gorgons grazing beneath your Parthenon
made golden by their angered gaze
Are you not jealous as well as just?
Is not your immorality made irrelevant
in the light of your immorality?
One does begin to wonder
If your wisdom is mere intelligence
Your knowledge mere luck covered stupidity
Your duty and honor merely a fear
To be seen as a vulnerable beauty
Your prized purity mere pride
Your longevity simply a lie
Perhaps all the exists of you
Is a memory wasted with the false belief
That your good outweighs your transgressions
DRUGS
Duping myself with that false belief for the
Recreational using of these mind altering
Until I find myself slipping from my sanity
Gripped by the uncontrolled insanity they
Say that I can't survive without them I fear
Sister, you left me without saying goodbye
And lived your life in a wink and a sigh
Born in the spring with a short season to give
I lost you in the fall leaving a long winter to outlive
You taught me love and held me close in my grief
I'm wishing we had never put our faith in false belief
Nothing could harm us as we sought out love
When you were gone, something I could barely speak of
I miss your presence even more today
On your birthday, this Easter Sunday
I have only to hope and pray
And wonder about the woman you would have become
Lend me your strength not to succumb
To sadness, yet whisper to me to go on and grow
So I carry you with me wherever I go
You're there in my dreams and never really apart
Now you can finally take flight and know heaven's heart
You are my April angel that will never depart
Walking Down To Death is a daily sorrowful walk into the darkness of life.
Where you loose all control.
The sidewalks seem to come alive to eat at your exterior as you hunt for your drug of choice.
This chase leaves you feeling worn and riddled with the demise of your self-worth and self- respect coming to a regretful end.
As a result of this never ending chase eating the bottom of your foot wear.
Loved ones then start succumbing to the appearance of self-dis figuration in their beautiful outward God given frame.
Walking down to death is a dark one that takes more and more from your spirit while inflicting aches and pains for the desired appetizer of the addiction.
What started off from innocence ended up becoming a down payment for your very soul.
Disguised in curiosity, trying to fit in with your friends, with the false belief that getting high was all in having fun.
Will-power has packed up and left you without saying goodbye.
It feels betrayed by your choices that led to demolish it's very existence and it's position to strengthen you.
No more of a party favor's for you as addiction strips you right down to the very core.
Your body aches for more and more and addiction continues to demand for more and more until it can't take from you anymore.
It's to addiction you loose your life and will be pronounced dead to your family and friends.
Your Walk Down to Death is now marked by the enemy as complete.
A precious life lost and gone forever to a tragic end.
Poetic Epistemology
(Belief System modifying JTB+G to JTB+C)
We believe without thought the sun rises.
However, we know the facts of how the sun burns.
Where facts and belief overlap is justified true belief.
We believe without thought we will have clean water to drink.
Nonetheless, we know that often water is fouled by mankind's greed.
Where foul and the clean overlap is a false belief.
We believe our bodies are functioning correctly.
Notwithstanding, we know sickness will strike us all.
Where health and sickness overlap is our tested belief.
We believe there is no end to the ticking of the clock.
Even so, we know our body's time on this earth is limited.
Where limitless and limited overlap is the birth of true knowledge.
We believe without thought that the infinite cosmos exists.
Regardless, we know our minds are finitely bound in our existence.
Where the infinite and finite overlap is our event horizon to enlightenment.
We believe without thought we are alive.
Nevertheless, we understand why we die.
Where life and death overlap is true knowledge converting to singularity.
It seems that man can never comprehend
The carnal thrust of lust we all must trust;
As human minds design no plan to end
Carnality 'till man converts to dust.
When facets of our lives are added new,
Atop existing layers of the truth,
Environments of learning do renew
The curious intensity of youth.
We are allotted exploitation needs
Of broadened exploration, to negate
Hyperbole and altered truth, that bleeds
Intolerance resplendent in its hate.
But time can lead a child inside deceit
Perpetuating common fallacies
Supported by revisionist conceit
Transparent in their false realities.
Revise, revise the facts you little whores
Enjoy the crime of falsifying past
And make it easy there behind closed doors
To witness fabrications that are vast.
The neo-nazis and the Ku Klux Klan
Deny the Holocaust and all its pain.
They claim the nazi's had no final plan
And such a plan would simply be insane.
The camps became infested with disease
Another reason many prisoners died.
And academics shouting out their pleas:
"The Jews had our sweet Savior crucified. "
Today the truth revised and falsified
Comes straight from printers who with pride omit
The aboriginal great genocide
That many witnessed our own troops commit.
They state that in the scheme of things so grand,
Elimination of a race though sad,
Is something that we all should understand
But teaching it makes Anglo's very mad.
But history without integrity
Is empty exercise of false belief.
To understate the state of slavery
Will give the racist only brief relief.
The founders compromised morality
Allowing slavery to long endure.
Incomprehensible duality?
Just keep the facts wrapped up and children pure.
For us to live and thrive if not survive
We must admit the errors first and last;
If not we find inside our final dive -
Oblivion of splintered fragments past!
I fancy that I am competent
To write on the theme of fear—
Only because I have spent much of my life in fear
And thus seem to know the emotion inside out!
Now, coping with fear
Is something like coping with the unknown.
For irrational fears, like phobias and phrenias,
The solution is probably to self-learn—
To remain positive,
Not only in thinking
But, more importantly, in feeling:
Most failures in this venture, in the past, are the result
Of some mismatch between the two.
Rational fears arise mostly
From having to face unequal battles in life:
Battling, for instance, with a wrathful, vengeful God,
Who is out to punish any poor erring soul.
But we know that to err is human.
A wrathful God trying to get even with a frail human —
That is something unimaginable.
The bottom line: God is
And will be what we take Him to be—
Because we are all after all participant observers.
And subtle are the ways of God,
Which cannot be easily understood
In terms of simple Newtonian equations.
This awareness should save us
From cognitive dissonance, if any.
Religion may put fear in me—of God,
Lest I should go reckless.
So I must guard myself against recklessness.
God, however, helps
The brave rather than the timid.
God is a Paradox, not Irony.
Then, why fear God?
Now, let’s not fear
Other unequal battles in life, either;
Be it with the spouse
Or the boss or ill-health.
The situation is like that of the (proverbial) mouse:
As a muse fearing the cat,
As a cat fearing the dog,
As a dog fearing the tiger and so on:
David vs. Goliath, Rama vs. Ravana, Child Krishna vs. Kalinga,
Nabi vs. False Belief, St. George vs. the Dragon,
Déjà vu!
Then, why fear unequal battles?
Poet Bharati equates fear with death,
And Yeats would call it death in life.
Let’s not be crippled—
By the so called Conscience,
Or Freudian Superego,
Or Eric Berne’s Censuring Parent.
Why fear fear?
***
Never-After
© Ben Burton
Why is it
So many godless people
Are offended by religious words
Spoken publicly?
Does reverence instill fear in them?
If so, of what?
The church lady
Swinging her purse?
If shuffling off our mortal coil portends
The end
What then?
It is done. Finis.
Who’s afraid of the big, bad nonentity?
Where is the sting?
Why is it troubling
To nonbelievers
If I proclaim to the very stars
Belief in a Divine Being?
Will it harm their children?
Influence them so much
That they fall prey to false belief
False hope
Thereby opening a path
To the glorious Never-After?
Does sincere prayer
Uttered before atheists
Lead them to despair
If so, why?
Do atheists have commandments
Precluding their admittance
To a nonexistent afterlife lodge
If their ears are violated
By a believer's
Prayer?
Or does apprehension take root
Nourished by the idea of being wrong
Thus, wrecking their chance
To make it to the dance
Maybe it is best not to believe
Risking no disappointment after death
When, upon looking around, one sees nothing
And thinks, "HA, I knew I was right all along"
While huddled masses praise His name
Elites look on with stark disdain
The common man remains inane
Blissfully inane
What flies in the face of logic
Must be wrong
Though theories with highly suspect reasoning
Are showcased as irrefutable
And spoon-fed like poisoned pablum
Ultimate proof lacking either way
But, oh, what spoils to the believer
While the atheist looks forward to . . .
Ironic? Certainly
For fate's so easily changed
In fewer words than these
In His name
by Michaelw1two
inspired by word works of Void Opus
all for you, superannuated, desiccated erudition,
this propagation scribed, this apotheosis odium;
under eructate flames, under the epitome of,
euphonious, promulgated magniloquent inception;
of the Maker’s exuberant false belief, in each of you,
this written punctilious event, come full circle;
rising to the very cusp, from titubate cathedra,
wherein the last of pure worshipers, in chants;
celebrate the edification cleared, to your last days,
by those, with their own amphigouris conjunct;
this of your quintessence, to show tutelar beings,
nothing, but exemplification of pride and dominance;
arise, you opprobrious center jestee, then look up,
to the center of infinite, lonesome screams;
this day’s iniquity is all you will fight for;
these last importunes, are all for you, one last time,
histrionically, making way, to move forward;
to the vertiginousness, of sand, sweat and ground,
denunciatory yells and screams, are all for you;
bow your head lower and cross this palisade,
to the center, until you hear a rise of yells;
the pitch perfect roar, cannot stop the gods,
until you are circled, in yourself, by all of us;
this last chance, for you to soutenu forward,
until you ululate for the dust from the dead;
this all for you, your torrid tomentum, this tined fork,
made to transfix all that has become perpetually you;
accompanied incessantly by these sanguinary tridents,
all for you, aimed at you, the fountainhead raising;
these enduring entry points, standing at your fundament,
in themselves, distinct in that you be one all for you;
one more is all, one more to extirpate, for this is all,
this wright’s sword your will needs, even if this ends;
all from you, the all for you, is all you will ever need,
are you ready for the all of these acuminate moira?
May 2013
"Affirmation without discipline is the beginning of delusion." Jim Rohn
The question: Am I open-minded, closed-minded, or delusional?
Sometimes, we mortals desire to believe in the unbelievable.
Therefore, we must choose our teachers and mentors wisely.
Wisdom says to wait and investigate before it is too late.
He who approves before 'taking one to school' is unwise.
To affirm without heavy questioning is foolishness.
Regardless of whether our field of endeavor is religion,
politics, or business, we must avoid dictators and deceivers.
A person or world in depression has little room for discretion.
If I am delusional, I have been deceived.
If deceived, I have accepted a false belief.
I have been overpowered or misled by persuasion.
I have trusted something or someone who's not trustworthy.
I am then ripe for the pickings by anyone desirous of my fruit.
For so during, I have become a victim like an ant in a spider's web.
I lack the necessary discipline to examine and scrutinize what has been
placed before me. The cleverness of the deceiver is such that I have
willingly legitimized and given accent and access to the forbidden.
Delusion is living blind,
Unseeing reality.
It weaves a web to find
It own disparity.
Content not to face
Real factors that exist,
Delusion will always
Deny Reason, resist.
Delusion seeks to negate
Life's meaning, human values-
All we honor it berates,
In truth, it has no use.
Wisdom, hope, and courage-
These are real things.
But in Delusion's page
Are reduced to nothing.
Deluded minds can't grasp
What makes this life worth living.
It lives on wearing a mask,
Resisting logic, decaying.
Cynthia Buhain-Baello~~~04.21.15
*Delusion --a fixed false belief that is resistant
to reason or confrontation with actual fact:
(www.dictionary.com)
This remorse is choking me to death,
taking away all the livable breath...
leaving guilt, anguish, and wrath:
am I another insane Macbeth?
If hours slowly pass making me restless,
and through rageful images
I despise when waking up with screams:
what's their symmetry to eternity?
Much worse are the innate dreams
never imagined having fragility!
There's a young storyteller with auburn curls
who comes from the medieval town of Arthun
narrating tragedies of inseparable lovers,
who died before their given time;
he sits on a bench of the small square
that depicts the sensuality of a nude siren
laying in the middle of a stone fountain
and spewing outflowing water, she entices sensuality!
I won't attempt to fling a silver dime
in its water showing an emotional valence,
but with prudence, I'll toss it gladly and gallantly!
Since I have no luck and an unpredictable future,
his tragedies seem sympathetic to an extent;
I won't be pierced by a blade to prove I'm faithful,
I won't lay in a tomb besides my adored lady...
the times of faithfulness have ceased to exist,
finding a true one among thousands of women who care
is such a rarety, they once were found in a monastery
and their desire was to be the bride of Christ,
and they always kept a holy image never being disgraceful!
If someone is being tormented by constant remorse
for a fault which wasn't his own attempt to contemplate revenge,
or the cruel intent of harming someone without a hint of knowledge,
then he should cleanse himself thoroughly of the false belief
and continue living without idiocy until he overcomes his grief,
not exiling himself on a deserted island and suffer the worse:
neither should I who has isolated himself and writes in pathetic rhyme
avoiding to compare himself to Othello who repented for his heinous crime!
Whom do I resemble most: Othello or Macbeth?
One had dark skin, the other had fair skin,
wasn't their vile character wrecked by sin?
They were murders stripped of moral and worth!
To watch you leave, watch you walk out
Hurt so much and filled me with tremendous doubt
That we were every truly friends
It was as if you really didn’t care in the end
This life, so full of secrets and lies
I never understood any of it…and you walk away, back turned away from the silent cries
My heart wrenches with unmendable grief
Why did you ever come around! Why must I hold on to this false belief
That you ever cared when you really did not
Your lies and secrets, so full of raging hate, I tried to love you…I tried to show you a friend all for naught.
I do not understand…and I never will because you will not allow me too
I want to understand…I want to help you and be here for you
But all you do is push me aside…push me away
Bury me in silence, stab me with your misery…but still I wish you to stay
But you do not, you still leave, still walk out that door
And I fall…hard to the unforgiving cold, hard floor
Weeping bitterly tears of repressed sorrow and pain
This empty void growing, tearing me from the inside…but the smiles I still feign
I still walk this crooked path that leads to nowhere
Wondering if maybe…just maybe I will find you here
Because you’ve stolen into my battered heart and made me care
And now I cannot let you go…not ever…I wouldn’t dare
Yet you still do not care about the hurt…the tears
You still just walk away, continuing to spreading your fears
And she goes with you
You knew that she would and you allowed her to
Golden bits of dust ,from a glorious past,
lost in the winds of memory , of moments that last,
for years in the hazy and shadowy alleys of the mind,
flecks of existence that were left behind,
in the desperate effort to find a better tomorrow,
shimmering reflections in the lake of the heart,
lost in the depths, in the search of a fresh start.
A whirlwind of thoughts comes to me today,
stirs something inside me that longs to get away.
something old,ancient , in the labyrinths of my brain,
that threatens to change all i know ,and drive me insane.
they say you reap as you sow,
i believe as it all comes back to me now,
everything i lost in the struggle against time,
as my vision was distorted and blurred with grime,
of my own false belief and an illusion of success,
in a mad race for what i thought was happiness.
today as all falls silent, my ambitions come to rest,
I realize, the memories of you are my real treasure chest.