In God We Trust

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Riddles  |  House: Philosophistication Poetry

Look through a blind lense...


Yawning seas swallow

memories of footprints,

arrogant minds find blueprints of the universe

in Disney tales,

the sky falls in love with a ground

that inhabits graves,

so it refused to fall,

books and articles are expressions

of diluted opinions,

absolute truths are seen as relative

tools to dictate what's right,

aren't we just a disturbed beautiful

creation searching for heaven in our

mysterious ceilings,

for centuries we have found reasons

that put us on top of the universal food chain,

drones and thrones controlled by men

and women who admire order through chaos,

truths buried and lies unravelled into propaganda,

agendas hidden in classified binders,

truths are conspiracies; so we don't believe

in that stuff,

tough luck, the enlightened laugh

and watch from a microscopic view,

spirituality is left metaphorical,

reality becomes distressing,

minds are depressing,

between neighbours there is tension,

love, peace and harmony, that's

a 70's Guru stature,

have you read the book or you have

merely read the lips of those who

extract genealogies from comic books,

I guess the truth is hard to admire

when its embedded in plain sight...


Stir the sea,

but the tea will be too sour to drink,

we think over our heads,

admire our own beards and then

create God in our selfish images,

then the question remains,

why are we still here,

living in routine,

dying of weak insulin,

purpose only advertised on 

motivational pamphlets,

we are modest beings wearing

our own brain tissues and bragging about

how much of geniuses we are...

but real genius minds know the answers

before the questions are found,

so the questions are always stagnant;

who is God, why isn't he evident,

but then why would the toymaker

make himself become part of the logic

of his own toystory,

well good or bad analogy:

you be the judge of that,

then rebuke or condemn my words

as heresies, well my truth is not absolute,

but relative to God's absolute truth.


Words are no longer effective to young minds,

rather actions spark the light,

fear blooms that dim light into

a shining tower light,

thus, fear the one who ploughed

your head and planted the seeds of hair.

If any of you were God,

well you're not and that's an absolute fact,

so sit back and admire the

beautiful architect tectonically

designing reality within the arc

of human ignorance.

In God we trust,

or we may believe that when

we start fearing becoming dust to dust!


By Eugene 'Philosophisticater'©

Submitted: December 20, 2018

© Copyright 2022 Philosophistication Poetry. All rights reserved.

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Prince EL

Quite profound and thought provoking. Nice work. I thoroughly enjoyed reading this poem. :)

Thu, December 20th, 2018 11:21pm

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