These Faith History poems are examples of Faith poems about History. These are the best examples of Faith History poems written by international PoetrySoup poets
N ever again will the Tribes of Israel be the sacrificial lamb of man.
A nnealed in furnaces not in Olam HaEmet by the Almighty "the World of Truth."
Z ealots rose from the ashes of the ovens and now defend like Sicarii of old.
I srael blooms and grows in the desert, returned by Allied Forces to the cauldron.
H ome to the Holy Land, sent, shipped, caste surrounded by Arab foe, isolated.
O vens melted their hearts, striped their forms for their souls held no intrinsic value.
L ampshades and shoes made from their skin, jewelry from the gold in their teeth.
O rders given by The Third Reich obeyed without conscious. The herd was culled.
C hrist-killer the Christian mind said, devil worshiper, their deaths were acceptable.
A nti-Semitism always has been and always will be a threat to Jews everywhere.
U nited, Jews must form a majority in Israel, so Jews everywhere feel safe.
S anctuary will never again being denied, Israel will be safe haven from persecution.
T o a future where all men have worth regardless of race, creed or religion, pray.
*Thanks to Arild Andresen Ertsland for his inspiring
From the Ashes
(_____ JESUS _____)
________(_______ HOLY SPIRIT_______)_______
___(_______________ KING OF KINGS_______________)___
(________________ EVERLASTING FATHER________________ )
(__________________ THE PRINCE OF PEACE___________________)
(_______________ LION OF JUDAH_______________)
(________ LORD OF ALL________)
(______ DELIVERER ______)
__(_______THE BREAD OF LIFE_______) _
_(____________THE LAMB OF GOD__________)_
(_________THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD_________)
I have a special story I wish to share
About a seamstress beautiful and fair
She would fade away turning into smoke
Of her amazing beauty, no man would joke
The spiraling smoke would then re-form
I know only an angels face could be so warm
Before her a beautiful quilt was spread
Upon it the story of my life was said
As she once again started to dissipate
She said, “Mike this quilt records your fate”
As the smoke traveled over to a new place
And then formed together creating her face
Looking over her shoulder back at me
She said, “This area will hold what has yet to be”
Most of the quilt looked like twisted evil tattoo
Simply because, my life’s quilt was quilted true
I looked the quilt over and then met her gaze
She was so beautiful in so many different ways
The last part of the quilt way over to the right
Showed the beauty of someone changing their plight
Upon her beautiful hand, which seemed so nimble
I noticed she was wearing my grandmother’s thimble
From a young maiden so beautiful to see
My grandmother appeared right in front of me
I guess up in heaven we return to our youth
My grandmother was beautiful; such is the truth
I thought of the price grandma was asked to pay
The shame of knowing I had turned out that way
I thought of her sitting there stitching my shame
My grandmother didn’t deserve an eternity of pain
She said, “Michael be still with the pain in your heart,
Your story encourages others to make a new start.”
“The deeper the wrong the stronger the right
I always knew my boy would take up the fight”
With a smile much brighter than an ice covered sea
She said, “I love the man my boy has grown up to be”
As she turned to the quilt and started to sew
She said, “Michael, its now time for you to go.”
“Believe in your story believe in your truth
For Salvation is the true fountain of youth”
One night in a dream, which I’ll hold forever divine
I learned; my Grandmother is now,” The Seamstress of Time”
When I was a boy I would help my Grandmother roll
her quilt, find her glasses, as well as, her thimble. I
never thought about how amazing her art truly was.
From a pile of rags she would make the most beautiful
quilt's. I sleep under one of her quilts to this very day.
Somewhere in midnight’s nocturnal hallways
As the chill settles down with starlight
While the world stands silent in waiting
There abiding with his flock walks the shepherd
Hopeful in thought and yet weary of foot
He moves his charges through the bite of night
His hope in the coming dawn lifts his burdens
Filling his minds eye with warm musings of tomorrow
In tones they beseech the day and challenge darkness
But through this constant cycle of shine and shadow
The guardian of the flock stands steadfast and waits
The promise begins as His voice appears cherubically
Falling in fear and praying for strength of faith
The radiance in the sky softens ever slightly
Speaking of the vow and announcing the messiah
Who brings the world a love and a hope yet tasted
Tremulous breath’s as the promise is spoken
Awing the greatness with a loving and respectful fear
Silent in belief beholding the coming miracle
He stirs the somnolent flock down the slopes
To bestow upon all the gift of this divine hour
His breath brittle’s the final icy moments of dusk
He labors the trail with renewed strength of heart
Proclaiming hushed gratitude within every step
A beacon of brilliance converges in the heavens
Beckoning his faithful west toward little Bethlehem
Dropping to his knees his face wetted in thanks
Finally understanding what is gripping his soul
He sees the precarious pathway laid before him
Though he has journeyed into the unknown before
None had brought with it a promise so precious
There are times we are left to cope
With situations that drain our hope
Leaving us full of despair
At how some people just don't care
About the evil that they do
To good people like all of you
We are left to somehow face
That in mankind there is disgrace
And those of us left alive
Must find away to survive
As you pick up the pieces of your life
Without your mother, father, husband or wife
And some of you God forbid
Without the love of your kids
We must band together with a brotherhood
Show that in this world there is some good
Because we are together in this deal
We try to help each other heal
We seek in each other good advice
And offer each other sacrifice
We hold each other in prayer and song
As we continue to re-build the wrong
Because what else in the world can we do
Except let the light of good shine through
The evil darkness and despair
Of a catastrophic lack of care
We want you to know you are not alone
Think of America as a giant cone
And all of us are funneling through
Our prayers and hopes to all of you
Posted for Nathan's 9-11 contest
Don’t point your finger at the thief
For losing sovereignty
It’s not the fault of Hollywood
If God, we don’t believe.
The pace of life accelerated
When first we wouldn’t wait
To seek Divine direction at
The start of every day.
Then babies resting in the womb
Broken, limb from limb,
With suctioned brains in bio-bags
Or moved to stem-cell bins.
Children raised by villages so
They won’t be in the way
Of self-absorbed, unfeeling parents
Selfishly at play.
We teach them they are primates
With no purpose to their life,
Then wonder why some children
Choose death to calm their strife.
Eight were saved from flooding rains
And four from Sodom’s Gloom,
Where are the righteous found today
To escape a pending doom?
The Second book, Chronicles,
Gives warnings we must heed
To evade the coming judgment in
Chapter seven and verse fourteen.
Yes, judgment stands before this land
We call the U.S.A.
The source is not the sinner but
Those called by HIS own name.
Would be better to deny HIM,
To remain one with the world,
Than to falsely represent HIM
And defile HIS HOLY WORD!
The third of HIS Commandment Laws
Means more than blasphemy,
It’s how we wear the name of Christ
When someone else can see.
God’s patience thins so GRACEfully
Til Israel stands alone,
Then comes our condemnation from
“I AM”, still on HIS throne.
Yet the only way to turn around
Fierce judgments sure to come,
Depends on true repentance from
The ones that wear HIS name.
To those of us, HIS Mercies claim
Let’s join, repent, and pray,
That GOD will heal our wayward land
And spare HIS WRATH today!
Pieces of history
We clutch to our chests
Which seek to crush us
For they hold us together
Making us stronger
More firm are we
In our resolve
To be one nation
The little drummer boy....
He played this beat for you!?
But you could not hear
Still, he kept rapping upon that drum ~
Even as the salty tears they did flow
Standing all alone?
While the Heavens rains, began to pour....
Yet, still, he played ~
With somber upon his face
As the world about him
Continued to fade away?!
Drumsticks made of flames....
And Angels, that often sang
The tunes of tomorrows, beginnings ~
Amid, todays, shades!?
He played and he played and he played
But no one wished to dance
Because no one could hear or, see
Nor, did they ever understand....
Standing all alone?
They laughed while he stood
Watching, the mountains melting into the sea
The stars, waving their forever goodbyes
To the shadows, upon the rise....
Beating his drum, to these end of days?!
Creation unknowing bathed, amid their moment
Frolicking within the merriments
Beneath this blinking Sun ~
Living, but dying....
Holding tightly these, evaporating dreams!?
But still, he played; rap tap tap
As the end of tears; rain would fall
Yet, again, they could not see nor, did they hear
So, how could they have ever known?!
Though some did; oh, how they loved him so....
....The little drummer boy ~
Note: Smile ~ Just another repo; Winter 06' & 07'....
"Pride In The Name of Love," by U2 ~ "Love," John!:) ~
Ain't a word, you said.
but it takes a daring gust
for things start to be.
In this centrifuge of sanctimony
Where I sip the atrophied air of my ancestors
The shipwrecked tide of my unborn children
Angels dangle from a precipice of silence
Strained by strings of a theoretical God
Sung by eyes of defiance
Which navigate the jagged epitaphs below
For that one sediment of salvation
That one moment of submission
Hoping he will see
His wonders, atrocities, his indifference
To cast a shadow of conviction
Over shivering light
Across the inlet where ivory columns crumbled
And modernity now deftly mumbles
Its fleets of fortune baptized
Nigh the bronze dust of golden millennia
Where history lies with its victims
A fugue of fossilized souls
A silent prayer remains