A Cynic’s Prayer

Image credit; Pavel Danilyuk@ Pexels

I don’t believe in you, don’t freak out,
god(s), or demi-gods, or goddess,
lol, you’re just words to me, like
gy, (read it, it’s in a book)
of wanting things I can’t have,
help when I need it
a step up, a step down
a shout out, a call down,
but I’m too smart for you
me, don’t fool yourself
that I’m praying when I’m posing
and rit-

or I’m a believer for my
when you’re just wishful
and for all my talk, you say
NOTHING, you’re
just a dream of weak-
lings, or weak
in the chain
of evol-
ution, and you’re never
a chain around my neck,
so don’t look for me in lost
when I’m TAKEN,
mother nature’s bag of chemicals
and lucky enough to know
cause it’s built into my neurons –
like the man says—
oh yeah, social constructs –
like, what’s a woman anyway—
whatever I say, hey,
take that, you, whoever you think you are,
get with the education,
you product
of the
medulla oblongata,
that’s French for “Get lost!”
because I’ve stopped looking for you
and I’m so evolved that . . .
well, just look at me!
Aristotle, eat your heart out, man.

Ecclesiastes 12: 6-7
Remember him—before the silver cord is severed, and the golden bowl is broken; before the pitcher is shattered at the spring, and the wheel broken at the well, and the dust returns to the ground it came from, and the spirit returns to God who gave it.

Photo prompt for Sadje's What Do You See #160

23 thoughts on “A Cynic’s Prayer

  1. A wonderful example of human hubris. Might he come to ask how he became ‘hardwired’ to know “good” from “evil” or why he felt self-sufficient with the gift of a questioning mind? There’s hope for this guy. He’ll figure it out. 😉


  2. Sounds like teenage me. I declared one Sunday that I didn’t believe in God, which had more to do with resenting being forced to attend what was to me a stultifyingly dull church service, than with any real thought about faith. After all, Mommie Dearest was the one who was into it, and it didn’t seem to dull her fangs at all. It seemed more to me like a portrayal of being upstanding and a seeing and being seen by others portraying and signifying the same thing than anything actual. It wasn’t that long a time after that when I found myself out for a night-time walk and found myself standing in the middle of my old school playground looking up at the night sky. All of a sudden I felt something I had never felt before, like a warm clean-ness coursing all through me, something personal, something loving that said I had value. I found my church on a softball field at night, with nobody watching or preaching.



    1. It’s so often like that, isn’t it? The God who is Love comes seeking you and you’re in a place or a space in your heart when you’re open to Him, as if you’ve always been waiting and He’s always been there, this Someone who know you through and through and loves you deeply. My church life growing up sounds very similar to yours and it didn’t take any effort at all for some very accomplished profs at college to suck me into their atheistic mindset, angst and all. You’ve made me want to share “my road to Damascus” experience even more in a post one day given how much your account has moved me in gratitude to Him, that you, my friend, are also safely gathered close in His arms of love. I know that all would be meaningless and futile, utter “vanity of vanities” without His saving grace in my life.

      Liked by 2 people

  3. The ending made me chuckle! I think he’s not searching and won’t find any truth until he gets knocked down a bit. It is so much about the heart and not the jewelry, or the facade. Enjoyed this sketch, Dora! 👍


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