#poetry about religion

[poemsonmars]

my new therapist tells me

that we need to do a

depression assessment.

during it, she asks me

if i believe i am being punished.

i ask her, "punished by who?"

and she shrugs at me.

i tell her, "i would have to

believe in a god of some sort

to believe that someone

could be punishing me."

she scribbles something down,

looks away from her paper,

tries to make eye contact,

asks me, "hypothetically,

if there were a god, would you

believe you're being punished?"

and it takes what feels like

an eternity of silence

for me to answer her.

i swallow the lump in my throat.

i settle my stomach

with the palm of my hand.

i do not meet my therapist's eyes.

i tell her, "there is a reason

i don't believe in god anymore."

-mars

[blueywritespoetry]

I never thought I was an optimist.

I saw the world as fairly dark

with bright spots only there to cast

a shadow across those lesser.

however I choose to hope.

I choose not to believe in a God

because if this is a world He deemed

"good"

then he cannot be as "good" as he claims

and if this all is in my best interest

God can go fuck himself.

I choose to believe in natural benevolence

believe we are not doomed nor destined

I believe we have hope.

[asoftepiloguemylove]

"I BELIEVE THERE IS A GOD. BUT I'M NOT SURE HE STILL BELIEVES IN US." // MUSINGS ABOUT GOD

Vi Khi Nao Fish in Exile // pinterest // Ada Limón The Echo Sounder, from "Lucky Wreck" // Mitski Bug Like an Angel // Margaret Atwood Half Hanged Mary // Ethel Cain American Teenager // Supernatural (2005-2020) cr. Eric Kripke // Elle Emerson Regarding the Röttgen Pietà // Yves Olade Belovéd // Kim Addonizio Wild Nights from "Tell Me" // Jensen McRae Machines // Supernatural (2005-2020) cr. Eric Kripke // Anna Kamienska A Nest of Quiet: A Notebook (tr. Clare Cavanagh) // Tom Waits Day After Tomorrow // pinterest // Lauren Camp Upon Taking the Universe One Thing at a Time

[trickstersaint]

in which you are seven years old and trying to dislodge the chunk of apple in your throat // october 22 2023

[diaryofruchita]

ruchita, excerpt from about love

[lesbianjudasiscariot]

When He keeps quiet, who then can condemn? - Job 34:29

Psalm 102 - Semler / Half-light: Collected Poems - Frank Bidart / The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath - Sylvia Plath / Greywaren - Maggie Stiefvater

[toalltheangels]

@/writerandweeper on TikTok // "Susan Smith" by Wych Elm // @/noknowshame on Tumblr // Book "Call my name" (2017) by Melissa Febos // "Family Tree (Intro)" by Ethel Cain // "Easter" by " @/freedomanddisorder on Tumblr // "Hail Mary" prayer

[moth-j]

How to Talk to God:

- A step-by-step tutorial

Step 1: Tell him everything.

You will wonder why you need to tell him these things about yourself, for God is supposed to be all-knowing.

Do not question him. He is all-knowing. He is simply giving you a chance. He does not have to provide you with a chance.

Step 2: Beg for His forgiveness.

It’s best to do so on your knees, knelt at the altar. No matter where you are in the world, God will always be looking down on at you.

But you don’t look very remorseful with your shoulders held high, it’s better for you to be low enough to kiss the Earth He created for you.

Show Him your guilty hands and pray that He will wipe them clean.

Step 3: Be grateful.

God has given you more than you could ever understand. It is true that He might not answer every prayer that escapes your lips, but God knows that now is not the time.

Yes, He is all-powerful, I don’t know why you would ever question that. Here, put a few bills in this basket, the higher the offering the stronger the faith.

He knows more than you could ever comprehend. Trust in Him, and He will provide.

Step 4: Have unwavering faith.

You know, the reason God hasn’t answered your calls is because He can feel your faith wavering. Though, I’m sure Father John has already spoken to you about this.

Maybe if you loved Him more, He would be more keen to save you. You haven’t gone to confession in so long, do you even deserve to be blessed with that communion?

God doesn’t like people who whine.

Step 5: Give up

How many times can you apologize before the words lose their meaning? How many times do I have to kneel before you, bloodied hands and bruised knees, before you show up?

It’s 11:13 a.m. on a Sunday and my right hand is gripping a crucifix in the back row of my home church’s pew. My head is bowed, my heart is heavy with everything that’s ever happened to me, splinters from dead wood are digging into my palm, and I’m begging for you to help me.

You do not answer.

The wooden cross tumbles onto the blue-carpeted floor and lands facing away from me.

I feel guilty.

I do not apologize.

[egharcourt]

They say there’s no scene that humanizes Jesus more than his prayer at Gethsemane. Matthew, Mark, and Luke all reiterate the same desperate plea: “Take this cup away from me.” Luke goes even further in describing Jesus’ agony, so tangible it manifested as sweat that fell to the ground like drops of blood. It’s almost theatrical, in a way— the composed Christ inconsolable, the faithful Martyr faltering. 

But I know that anguish is not ephemeral. For it festers within you, bursts out from you when you can control it no more, and ends with you. They only see the eruption. We hear about Jesus as a precocious child, questioning his earthly parents, “Did you not know that I must be in my Father's house?” Does knowing his Father mean knowing his demise? Did that comprehension come later? Was he as oblivious as Issac then, asking his father on their journey, “Where is the lamb for the burnt offering?” At what point did he realize that he was the lamb that God had provided? When he learned that fate meant him to die did he realize it entailed such cruelty?

It’s perfectly reasonable if he didn’t. The sacrificial lamb is always adored. Without blemish, without broken bones, without fault. They dote upon you like a prince until they pin you to the chopping block. Your father nurturing you with a knife in one hand, saying, I love you so much that I’ll let you bleed out for God. 

And you’ve internalized it. You’ll cry when you see the altar, but you’ve long ago conceded that you can’t escape doom. So you bargain to make it a little more endurable, to meet the end with a bit more poise and dignity. It’s the final resolute “May your will be done.” It’s Issac struggling in his binds until his strength is spent, taking one last glance up at Abraham to whisper, Make it hurt less.

"Elegy for the Messiah by the Sacrificial Child-Lamb on the Altar", E. G. Harcourt

[some-murmurings]

somewhere along the way, a whole lot of people concluded that "metaphor" meant "false" and "illusion" meant "lie"

furries are not animals. they are humans. you can tell because, first of all, they are made of the same people meat everyone else is. not a flawlessly deductive argument, no, but a very robust induction nonetheless.

furries are not humans. they are animals. you can tell because, first of all, they will tell you that. at great length. repeatedly. bc we are all autistic. not a flawlessly deductive argument, no, but a very robust induction nonetheless.

being a furry is, as the eminent philosopher Patricia Taxxon (@patricia-taxxon) defined it, a concession to the symbolic and the sensory. humans are already mammals, that some of us find more of ourselves in fur than skin is not news.

Traumagenic, Endogenic, & whatever-a-tulpa-is-genic systems both are and are not multiple people in one body. We are a body experiencing consciousness in a non-singular way. We are reality viewing itself through a kaleidoscopic fractal fraction of the infinitely fractal kaleidoscope that is human experience. That we see more of ourselves in a group than an individual is not news either.

God is not real. God is also real. God is a metaphor. Maybe. God tends to elude definition, a defining tendency itself, if you wanna try & wrap your already aching brain around THAT.

That furrydom, systemhood, and theology are all metaphorical and illusory is not a reduction of their truth but instead are their nature. Life is metaphorical and illusory. Motion is a logical inconsistency. Plato, the stupidest man to ever live (other than every other person), said that time itself was "the motion of eternity." He was talking about clouds passing in front of the sun. He was also right. For once. The metaphor and the illusion ARE the truth of it. Samsara take us all, Brahman ur Atman, man, no one else can do it for you.

Every paradox I've mentioned is solved by shutting the fuck up and being kinder. Listen. Speak. Agree. Disagree. Love. Hate. they're all the same and completely different.

In my experience, hope is just despair after a shower, death just rot becoming regrowth. calling my metaphor a metaphor derogatorily does nothing but make you look like a dumb asshole. calling your own metaphor not a metaphor has the exact same effect.

[atbussysparks]

I love dog motifs about being muzzled and trapped, stared in the eyes forced to defend, and slave away, and be the perfect companion of God. His faithful disciple. I love the metaphor of a "bad dog" being bonded and loving and protected with a family with no blood ties. I love the idea of a untamable and naturally unloved dingo or coyote being shown acceptance by a pack. I love when a rowdy dog is treated like they are too much or have rabies, and they're a big sweetheart truly, but they're punk. I love mental images of a dog chewing through the rope that ties them to a pole to get to their adult puppy, and they themselves are a puppy. But they heal their stunted growth by ripping the muzzle off the other adult puppy.

I love canine motifs.

[blueywritespoetry]

be kind says the catholic

I don't see what's so hard about niceness

Unless you're of another religion

In which case you cannot truly love

What? You expect kindness without it stemming from love?

You expect non-judgment while you're disgusted by fhem?

You cannot disrespect people and expect them to

Value your opinion because of your God.

Love thy neighbour, Jesus said, unless you're a different faith

Obviously. Because Jesus, a Jew who sheltered Samaritans

Spent time with the lepers and taught the women

He would've hated Muslims and Jews and Sikhs alike

Naturally.

[asoftepiloguemylove]

RELIGION AND SUPERNATURAL

unknown // Supernatural (2005-2020) cr. Eric Kripke // Mitski Bug Like an Angel // Supernatural (2005-2020) cr. Eric Kripke // Lingua Ignota NO. 1 / FORGIVENESS // The Rapture from "Supernatural" (2005-2020) dir. Charles Beeson // BELOVEDVIOLENCE a search for God // Paint It Black from "Supernatural" (2005-2020) dir. John F. Schowalter // Ethel Cain Inbred // Supernatural (2005-2020) cr. Eric Kripke // John 11 1-45 from "The Holy Bible" // We Happy Few from "Supernatural" (2005-2020) dir. John Badham // Ethel Cain Sun Bleached Flies // Inherit the Earth from "Supernatural" (2005-2020) dir. John F. Showalter // Tom Waits Day After Tomorrow // Don't Call Me Shurely from "Supernatural" (2005-2020) dir. Robert Singer

[trickstersaint]

musings on prayers gone unanswered // september 21 2024

[whipitgod]

self love is when i cut up fruit for myself like my grandmother used to.

[diaryofruchita]

ruchita, from Letter to Evie