Long Agnostic Poems
Long Agnostic Poems. Below are the most popular long Agnostic by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Agnostic poems by poem length and keyword.
How can you say
with your not quite straight face
that you neither know nor care
anything of God, or gods,
or exotic goddesses
or ghosting holy spirits?
That's like saying you don't care for any love today,
or believe in rain during a drought,
yet feel gratitude for sacred Earth's holistic medicine,
all the grace-filled rain that came some other place and day,
even if not this dry and cracked today.
Like saying you don't believe in music
and dance
and sex
and pleasure
and passion
and red and purple and pink and yellow bruised violet sunsets.
How could you not care about creative becoming?
Regeneration of interdependent life?
The future peaceful home of our prospering grandchildren?
Health care and assurance?
Social and environmental securities?
Anti-social anti-ecological irreligious insecurities?
AnthroObscene LoseAnthroMinds/LoseEarthBodies
mutually assured destroying war games
and re-creative multicultural sacred/organic gardens
pantheistically loving
peace-thriving fragrant and beautiful Beloving Communities.
How can you pretend
with that half-smirk
that this Earth Goddess
we democratically garden together
is no one you could wisely know
or deeply care about?
To co-redeem a master gardener's wildest dreams?
To love into integrity's holy nature/spirit wealth
by divesting of manmade hypocrisy,
thinking we could sufficiently name,
much less commodify, God
without re-creating passions
and pleasures of organic Paradise.
Why would you take a pass
on digging into Earth's co-passionate
fully humane mind/body divinity?
This could not be true
not really you
not the Self with polyculturing Others
past and future right now within
and without your own,
but never owned, passion
to prefer sacred cooperative pleasure's
indigenously natural wisdom.
How can you know
we're not gods and goddesses
in our health-gardening integrity?
in our potential for harvesting regenerativity?
economic and politically fertile
sync-tensegrity,
love of full-stretch multi-colored jazzy soul livity.
You know you want to dance in cornrows
and sing with bird choirs
as god and goddess
within and on,
for and of Mother Gorgeous Gaia's
embryonic wounded womb
elationally awaiting Golden Ruling garden bliss
Or, did I miss something
in that twinkling
of your somewhat straight-faced lie?
Can a man – all alone - foist a god upon his fellows
Even if it’s only himself
And they his subjects
G.. is Akbar!
Does the muezzin from the minaret of Qoutoub-Minar
look up or
down to the illiterate savant emperor
whose newly-ordered cosmos
much as Tamerlane and Genghis Khan's blood
mixed gods
invented the Gysin-Burroughs cut-up and fold-in method
a cornucopian chimera
shi'ite-sunnite-kharidjites
hindu/buddhist-jain
confucian-taoist/zoroastrian
orthodox-christian/judaic
saivite-vaisnavite
mahayanist-theravadite
shintoist-zen-chan
agnostic-atheist
A…. is Great!
In the begining there was no VERB for him
In the end
from
"brahmana" Himalayas to the "asurya" Deccan
from
Ghazna and Kabul to the spent chugged mouth of the Ganges
where bloomed the Allah-Upanishad
One common language
One uncommon religion
One classless society
One mutually nourishing art
One scientific quest
and the sweet music of friendly disputation
within then the world’s vastest book and art collection
though knowingly
took to wife an Hindu princess
chose his prime counsellor from among the Brahmin élite
where within hearing distance lithesome nymphs bathed in scented milk
his victoriously wearied warrior limbs back from punitive expeditions
through Panipat Delhi Agra Punjab Gwalior Ajmer
Gujarat Bengal Sind Orissa Baluchistan Ahmadnagar Kashmir
Khandesh
to circumscribe the sub-continent
a Ceasar at the court of Fatehpur-Sikri
Akbar is ___!
Who would parse and complete or conclude the syllogism
For « One » who dared abolish the jiziyah
Note: Jalal ud-Din Muhammad Akbar (1542-1605), the third Mughal Emperor, edicted that muezzins should herald the rising of the sun by the call: Allah-u-Akbar!
The « jiziyah » , a word of Arabic origin, meaning a tax levied on non-Muslims who wished to conserve their own property, and imposed by the Moghul sovereigns – on and off - in India, was abolished by Akbar in his seventh year of accession to the throne.
©: T. Wignesan, March 13, 1992 (from the sequence/collection: "Words for a Lost Sub-Continent")
How is it Possible?
How is it possible that one can be a pluralist and still be true to the savior?
I am the way the truth and the life, he said!
I AM!
Not confession or even faith, but I AM THE WAY!
And in him was life and the life was the light of men!
He is the light of the Bodhisattva!
He is the light of Buddha!
He is the light of Allah!
He is the light of Siva!
He is the wisdom of agnostic intellectuals!
He is the fury of feminist revolution!
He is the joy of liberation!
He is the burning beat of rhythm in the streets!
No man has seen God, but the SON OF MAN HATH PROCLAIMED HER!!
From the Jews who he chose!
To his humility to learn of the suffering of men!
To his exaltation!
IT HAS BEEN HIM ALL ALONG!!
ONE MEDIATOR BETWEEN GOD AND MAN!
I AM THAT I AM!
The burning fire of love that transforms all things!
And so you ask, who shall not make it?
Some may see hell, but they will not stay there!
For God rains on the Just and the Unjust!
For God will have mercy on who she will have mercy!
And so, in the end, All shall be reconciled!
He is the WAY, THE TRUTH, AND THE LIFE,
He is the wisdom of the Vedas,
He is the weak and strong force that holds all things together!
And enabled Teilhard de Chardin to speak truth to power!
He is the light of Ghandi’s nonviolence!
He is the strength of Mary’s courage!
He is the love of mother God!
Dancing in Trinitarian Jazz,
With the spirit that he wields and who wields him!
God of the Chosen!
God of Hagar’s son!
God of the East!
Lord of the Magi!
And King Supreme!
Though meek and Lowly,
He is unafraid of our exploration!
He is unafraid of the beauty of men laying with men, and women laying with women!
For he is love incarnate!
And he is THE WAY THE TRUTH AND THE LIFE!
And he shall birth new Deborah’s and New Joshuas
To change the face of Arrakis,
For he is the Quizazk Zaterack,
He is the communion of the saints and the power of the ancestors!
And in him, he has reconciled male and female,
Black and White,
He is unafraid of justice,
And with justice he wields punishment on corporate monopolies and white supremacy!
He is unafraid!
Risen, Strong, True, Just, but Merciful.
And so in the end, all shall know the beauty of God eternal.
For we shall see Angels ascending and descending on the son of man.
Amen.
Chasin’ Lighting – In Honor of the CUA Crew!
Several rickety rides held together with the faith of the ages,
Sages some might say, turnin’ pages of things old and things new,
The chosen few, riding with the storm,
Lighting flashing on all sides,
Switchin’ gears from fears of repeating histories to mysteries of new days dawning,
Spawning day dreams of elastic electricity, serendipity,
As Barack ascends,
Inspiring men,
They fight the darkness of hail ridden windshields,
Toggling between the unknown and highbeams of luminescent knowledge,
Chasing a faith strong enough to free the fatherless and set the captives free,
Wrestling not against flesh and blood,
But wide turns of satanic deception,
With weapons of light like mad max before them,
They wage war on the dark roads of Memphis, searching like alley cats like Thunder Cats,
For stitches of acts like koinonia,
Chasing a faith in persistent praya’ for a different tomorrow.
Sorrows fading beneath the commitment to serve a God beyond the schizophrenic nightmare of human imagination,
Sorrows fading beneath the elation of love and mercy eternal,
On their way to Oklahoma City,
Fighting for that Jerusalem which will stand forever,
Caught in the obsession of one singular endeavor,
To redeem the minds of our time, and see a renaissance explode out of the womb of suffering,
7, several, 70 times 7 rides, held together with the faith of the ages,
Chasing the courage of Baptists,
Chasing the justice of quakers,
Chasing the wisdom of Episcopalians,
Chasing the unity of Catholics,
Chasing the power of charismatics,
Chasing the stillness of the upper room,
Chasing pentacostal fire,
Chasing a fire strong enough to speak in the language of doubting atheists,
To speak in the language of agnostic scholars,
To speak in the shalom of the Torah,
To speak in the illumination of the Bagadav Gita,
Convincing Hindus of the ultimate avatar,
The Bodhisattva the Christ,
Converting crack heads into prophets of a blessed age,
They rage against disbelief and catch hold the rhythm of heavenly praise,
That all will be saved,
Several rickety rides, like Battlestar Gallactica, a rag tag assembly of apostles,
Chasing the end of paranoid hatred and the daydream of life eternal,
Several rickety rides,
Chasin' lighting
Unsettling premonition kickstarts fiendish abomination
Consider the following
dogmatic, enigmatic, fantastic,
idiotic, jargonistic, kimetic, linguistic,
narcissistic, opportunistic,
poetic, quixotic, rhapsodistic,
scholastic, transformistic,
universalistic agglomeration
as an abbreviation
overactive imagination
wrought demonic manifestation
unaware reading dictionary
could engender garrison housing
Century 21 ghostly conjuration
paranormal shenanigans this
Lake Wobegon resident
grudgingly attests perturbation
disembodied spirit betook
(analogous to Casper
the friendly ghost)
"FAKE" spooky introduction
primarily cause ethereal
phantom of the opera mine
diaphanous doppelganger actualization
forcing agonizing confrontation
blindly highlighting spectacular illumination
constituting undeniable declaration,
whereby stagnant existence
aligned stark juxtaposition
courtesy faux charade, escapade, facade...,
gimcrackery literary affectation
yielded (still does) negation
to befriend prospective logophile,
essentially begetting immediate amputation
as posited a posteriori said acquisition
regarding, kneading, experiencing...
inclusiveness feeling reviled discrimination
foisted linkedin with nonestablishmentarian
progressive, liberal, agnostic Unitarian
paradigm upbringing birth parents
decreed ideal articulation
to foster independent cogitation
among yours truly, and his two sisters,
at one time felt veneration
marble lustrous bead
felt towards (guess who) second born
only brother gifted with affliction
diagnosed recent as
schizoid personality disorder,
a mental health condition,
whereat emotional affinity
toward kin folk sundered
buzzfeeding self cannibalization
predicated on inchoate
in utero causation
insync with adaptation
(actually Putin on Ritz key conspiracy
incorporating Russian collusion)
in tandem with basket of deplorables
little rock and rolling
witnesses regeneration
frothy heady windblown
dyed in wool Taj Mahal size
pompadour toupee coronation
ego freezing troll defies decapitation
barley bubbling within hopscotching
mucky swamp characterization
capital hillbilly Phoenix
resembling archeopteryx alights
shrill screeching, digging lame talons
into trumpeting paunchy underbelly.
If I were heavy into all sports and loved racing fast cars; if I were shorter, taller, fatter, thinner, quieter, louder; if I were an atheist, theist, gnostic, or agnostic; wouid you still love me?
If I were American, Asian, African, European, or other; democratic, republican, or non-political; if my hair was black, blond, brown, or red; would you still love me?
If I had no arms, one eye, or one leg; could not walk, talk, dance, or sing; homeless, carless, or jobless; would you still love me?
If I were born handicapped; dirt poor like my parents; my IQ were above or below 100; would you still love me?
12032018PoSoupContest, Would You Still Love Me?, Edward Ibeh
Do you think you'd be happy if there were no God?
Well, I wonder if that could be true?
It would seem to suggest that your life has no meaning,
If so, are you sure, that is OK with you?
Though simplicity’s something that I give high praise,
Does the absence of God bring it on?
And a universe singing, “I’M ALPHA, OMEGA,”
Make you want to dance, exercise your baton?
On one hand, there’s the universe, other hand’s God,
Is this where we bring logic to bear?
And in choosing a steady state, or a creator,
Do questions remaining just vanish from care?
I won’t try to deny it; the Bible sounds strict,
But then where it counts most, Good Book’s kind,
Christ says “My yoke is easy” and “Grace is salvation,
Is Zoloft the solace that you have in mind?
I say these two positions rest wholly on faith,
So it seems just one side has a prayer,
The Agnostic is only one seen using logic
But tempted toward laziness in this affair.
Seems a Christian and Atheist worship same God,
Their God’s FAITH (neither one has a clue)!
So then where is FAITH’s virtue “God” finds so appealing?
It’s door to your heart, though it’s frozen dark blue!
Tell me if God exists, is it smart to play dumb?
You could join Pascal’s club and just bet!
But then God (if He’s God) would divine you are hedging,
And likely repelled by your playing coquette!
If my thinking is right, then Agnostics aren’t safe,
Christ likes souls either cold or quite hot,
It’s lost souls who are lukewarm, that bad taste embody,
They rarely attract like a child or a tot.
Though space-time may contain the truth, can it be true,
If creator, how could it be pure?
It is probably best if you rise to occasion
And hope God is real though you cannot be sure.
Who can prove with no doubt that God doesn’t exist?
How could space-time exist with no plan?
To find joy without God feels quite oxymoronic
If truth is not real, how could joy speak to man?
Both our postulates have the same fault it would seem,
Who’s the author of space-time or God,
And what entity gave rise to all we encounter?
I’d swear it's not me! (But I’ve always been odd.)
Brian Johnston
April 6, 2017
If I were not a GAY white male
living in the USA,
I wonder if I would have grown my LeftBrain up
to so easily hear
Donald John as Head Pharisee
for privileged religiously-held Nationalism--
a totalitarian fake-idol
substituting fake-patriotic raptures
against sacred polyculturing outcomes
for all multiculturing
underprivileged creolizing
natural agnostic and spiritual religious Cultures.
Susan Werner asks
"If God is good
and God is great,
Why is your heaven so small?"
If USA is good,
right or wrong, and
If USA is patriotically great,
loyal to democratic principles of active healthy cooperation
and therefore morally divine,
Why is your current CEO Pharisee of Privilege
so egotistically small,
so badnews mendaciously tiny,
rather than globally sacred
ecologically Great Transitioning
toward restoring climates of polypathic healthy wealth?
If God's timeless polyphonic Paradise
is too narrow,
too spiritually elitist,
for those of us naturally and/or spiritually underprivileged
victims of Trumpian Win/Lose privileged Rapture smallness,
then how sure are you
you have never had a queerly unorthodox sensual thought?
A flicker of sacred matriarchal woundedness?
A flash of natural wet warm wombishness?
An addictive glimmer of longing to reassociate
with sacred Virginal MotherEarth?
How sure are you of not preferring
innocent transgender lily love for each NewDawn--
Raptures in and of NonViolent Revolutionary Fields?
If we cannot recover
some active multicultural hope of landing together
in God's jealously occupied
and punishingly withheld Paradise,
if only to avoid monoculturing risks
of hellfire's sweeping overpopulated damnation
for timeless eternity
of Here with Decomposing/Recomposing Now,
perhaps it is time to recall
Jesus's God of Love,
WinWin Grace,
restorative ego-ecological
co-messianic
co-operative SpiritNatures,
secular Ego with sacred Eco ZeroZone
nondually co-arising
rapturous WinWin healing.
Transparent secular/sacred political vocations
as eco-ministers reforesting wounded Earth
to heal internal addictions to multiculturing Love.
Distressed, I attest,
Like not blessed,
A voice in my head,
Said out of bed,
So I was led to
A quiet church,
As owls sang out,
Midnight gone tombs,
And my tears appeared,
Death beckoned long
finger nails of distraction,
And so I gazed upon an open Abbey, with folk awake that caused a shake, God botherers with likely guitars, a melange of niceness where only grief was sat. So I drifted in, hiding behind tissues
of my own life lies, and sat prepared to run, quite prepared and scared, from that worse than death, the well meaning Christian. Then as I sank into the pews, staring up from rotten shoes, my woes, my blues, I saw floating in midair, a man, with dark blooded hair, and I knew then I was crazy within my distress, not blessed. But as that thought, which came to nought, crossed my elitist demeanour, I shared everything he felt, and at that moment, beyond compare, exquisite agony my problems became less than my being, now seeing Christ. Never one to take miraculous moments without scepticism, I stood disbelieving, a rescued Thomas who had seen, unseeing, still unbelieving.
So I walked with much chagrin
towards the font my eyes had
seen, to find rational reasons,
A reflection, some explanation,
for why of all people this soul
of mine, might be saved by
one whose face I had denied
for so long, that no song could
ever write my wrongs, and there
in a Pentecostal moment, I
gained insight into the wind
that came at night, where no
delight was held for me,
an agnostic changed now for
all eternity. A man unworthy
of that name, came to faith,
kicking, screaming at how
unfair, it was to find that God
was really there, and worse,
so much worse, he knew my
name, and despite my attempts,
cared enough to save my day.
@Andrew Carnegie, Bessay Lighthouse, 28th December 2016. A true story.
If you would like to know a bit about me and my poetry please click this link below:
https://youtu.be/Ic_V7aX4xbk
This free verse was written from an agnostic point of view
so may appear biased, against organised religions
I assure you this is not my intention, and it is simply a poem
For the record, I have told lies in the past, and still do occasionally
The tannoy operator
And so it came to pass at a certain time in human history
the greatest illuminati in civilisation are called together
with only one question to solve
IS THERE ONE TRUE GOD!
Physicists, philosophers, professors, sit round an enormous table
No religious leaders where invited,
as they are deemed to be extremely prejudiced,
Besides they already believe in many relevant Gods
depending on their denomination and orientation,
Stern faces stare across the table at each other
For this matter is to be taken, with the utmost gravitas,
All known religious texts are brought in, and piled high on the table,
“Search the evidence” echoes over a tannoy system
All the texts are studiously scrutinised, over the ensuing days
After which the great debate is due to begin in earnest,
But first a show of hands is called for, by the tannoy operator
and this question put to them,
“Have you found one true God”
but alas nobody raises a hand,
“Ok so let the great debate begin”
They all just look at each other, stand up shake hands,
leave the room, and go their separate ways
Unknown to these illuminati another conference had been called in secret
by the tannoy system operator
Only this time, it was between the various religious leaders,
Again after pouring over all the texts
the same question was put to them,
“Have you found one true God”
and sure to form, every one of them raise their hands
But then unbelievably stand up, and prepare to leave the room,
“You cannot go, without revealing who God is”
echoes from the tannoy
Just then a massive argument erupts, spilling over into fisticuffs
Indeed this status quo, has remained ever since.
By
David Kavanagh