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Prose Poetry God Poems | Prose Poetry Poems About God

These Prose Poetry God poems are examples of Prose Poetry poems about God. These are the best examples of Prose Poetry God poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Prose Poetry | |

IF GOD GIVES UP ON US

Open season
the games have begun
We be target practice
Shoot randomly 
no penalty

Kill at will
...if you will
Lives don't
matter to the people
you're chanting to

Kill for thrill  
new sport
Kill at will
...if you think
Lives matter 
watch the gavel...
justice not served

Makes no difference
if they get sacked
Big money got their backs
Now who has that kind if cash ?

Thumb twiddlers, sitting down
eyes watching God's moves
"God's gonna get them people"
That is what God said: He also
 said: "faith without works is dead'

Earth disturbers in combat boots
Serial killers with badges in blue suits
commissioned for this mission
rewarded with loot.

The makers of tragedies  on 9/11
twin towers. Afghanistan and 
the embassy in Kenya ..World Trade
Center and the list goes on..
By the way who's funding BOko Haram?
They have better weapons than the whole
Naja Militia.

Desensitized people, frightened and numb
Worldwide genocide irrespective of person
religion or gender.
When bombs go off, bodies drop 
buildings fall down.
What if the grid breaks?
What if he does not re-create 
anyone smart enough to fix it.?

Those people who one day 
gets paid, to kill those people, 
Who pays you to kill them people
and them people to kill you....

Somebody is paying people, 
to make less people
and paying people - 
to make less people etc...
until there is less people. 
Only the people on the left, 
are left.
And the leftover people. 

Then no more people left.
and the green grass grew all aroun all aroun ....
and the green grass grew all aroun

IF God Gives Up ON US...

What might he do, send us back into the 
black hole.Take the power back from the Sun?

Reverse the magnetic magnitude of the moon
There'll be no separation of day from
night, there'd be no more chances to get life right. 

If God gives up on us it would
serve us deserving. No intercession
for your transgressions.

Just send us back into oblivion;
Erase us like we had never come.?
Dauntless disobedience, and foul
acts mocking his earthly domain
Diverging from Gods plan
Ignoring truth, man abusing man.

What if God would wait
one million years before 
he launched another plan
and like the dinosaurs
we'd be - Just another species 
from ancient times and lands.

What if God gave up on us....

and sent us back into the 
dust, and the only memories 
left, would be the writings
in ancient books..
Ancient books no-one could decipher.

...and the green grass grew all aroun all aroun
and the green 

ghttp://www.addictinginfo.org/2015/01/20/black-homeless-man-sleeping-when-he-was-set-on-fire-by-white-teens-video/


Details | Prose Poetry | |

War Against The Flesh - Part 3

Roaming the Streets Like a Wildcard With a vendetta,
I Ignored the Ache that was Thumping Against My Brain.

                              - Like Some Sort of Haunting Medicine -

It'd been Months Since Daylight. It All Started with  
The Darkening of the Sky. Then After, Came The Visions.

                              - Street Preachers with a Cause -

Those Religious People I Befriended But Never Took
The Time To Listen to, Vanished by The Church Load.

                              - Then Came The Slaughtering -

Those With Souls as Black as The Richest Tar. Found
In Disturbing Circumstances, Nailed to Wood.

                              - All The Blood Rushing to Their Heads. -

Now All That's Left on This Limbo of a World is us.
The People Who Never Embraced nor Rejected Him.

                              - Ragdolls For The Devil -

Following The Light Brought Me To a Small Camp, A Fire 
Blazed in the Middle, and my Arrival Attracted No Attention.

                              - I'll Hide From The Fire -
                                  They Burn out Fast

If The Smoke Attracted my Attention, Then
They'll Receive More Uninvited Visitors.

                             - For Now I'll Sleep Near The Camp Not in It -
                               - Sleeping Near Company Eased The Mind -
                                               - Made it Possible - 

Random Scuffling and Gasps Followed By The Screeches
and Noises Caused by Tearing Flesh. It Woke Me From Security.

                             - Raping Murdering Creatures -
                                   Upholding Their Design 

The Noise Died Down and Uneven Footsteps Trailed into
The Distance Behind a Deranged Doppler Effect. 

                             - ....Tend to The Wounded -

You Can Talk to Them Minutes Before Their Bulb Blows,
But How Do You Console The Damned? 

                            - Life is Terminal -

A Cancer Created to Spread, and Spread We Did. 

                           - God Added Restrictions -

Every Pregnancy Miscarried by Involuntary Abortion.

                           - Humans, Following In League With Dinosaurs. -

...  If God Wants You Dead,
                                          Where Can You Hide ? ....


Details | Prose Poetry | |

THE CHOICE

THE CHOICE

HE WAS asleep
Between space and time
The first light on the world
Floated idly
On him
He was just born.

His folded hands
Glowed a pale pink
To keep the fire of life
He wondered if he was really awake.
Is it the true world?
Is it the true village?
Is it the true nest?
He kept kicking
And cried like a scared owl.

God trod to the next village.

Best of 2014 - Poetry Contest
Sponsor	Carol Eastman

from BIRTH FANTASY FAIRY CATS AND EVENINGS
Written on 8/20/2014	 
Poet: RAJAT KANTI CHAKRABARTY


Details | Prose Poetry | |

My God on Earth: My Mother

A heart that cries more than me 
in my pain. 
Whose congenial and benign teachings 
make me sane. 
A warm touch that dispels from me 
the gales of worry. 
Whose proximity ensures me that I'm 
protected by her under furry. 
A helping hand that always hold me 
whenever I'm about to lose. 
& my first teacher who makes me to 
distinguish between donts' and dos'. 
A voice and nothing more, an Angel 
who is entirely mine just after my birth. 
And she is none other but 'My Mother', 
The God on Earth. 
  
Although to define her in words is 
beyond my skill. 
Nevertheless I can say that her pace in 
my life, none can fill. 
She is the one who needs not a single 
word of me to understand. 
In my devastation, she is always there 
to provide effusively her hand. 
In the weariness of my life, with her, 
I may lose to be in link. 
But she ever remembers me whenever I 
breathe or my eyes blink. 
I can say that in search of heaven, 
I needn't to go anywhere. 
I would like to put my head in my 
mother's lap, as its only there.. 


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Oh God When I die

                                                 Oh God When I Die

                                      Oh God when I die please let me,
                                      See the sin's from past reality,
                                      And if my deeds out wiegh bad,
                                      Then let my soul feel glad.

                                      And if I die from a lier's shame,
                                      Please allow my shameful name,
                                      To be among the forgiven with pride,
                                      Knowing your grace has given me a guide 

                                      From death to light le me see,
                                      That eternity is my reward from thee,
                                      And infinite love of peace from you,
                                      For your promise is eternaly true.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

OH MY GOD

OH MY GOD!!!

Assemble all the gods we’ve built,
stand them in a line, then walk along
the corridor and ponder which is yours,
which is mine?  Dragons, stoics, satyrs,
saints, all stony faced with colored paints.
Some in regal pompous robes others missing
all their clothes.  Fierce and sullen, sour faced
one look to put you in your place, kind and
gentle, bended knee promising to set you free.
Ogre sneers on giant cats, fat and sassy spoiled brats.
These are the gods we have created.
Thank God they never met - and mated.


John G. Lawless


Details | Prose Poetry | |

The Day the Doctor Told Me

On the day
When the doctor told me 
My whole heart crushed 
Melting like snow in summertime
Leaving me to wonder 
Was this moment 
My realty 
A fantasy 
Cause even though I don’t go to church 
Every Sunday 
I knew God wouldn’t plague me 
With a curse such as this 
I was too young to die 
Carry an illness which could 
Define me 
Would I make it 
Is there a cure 
Cause the way he was telling me 
My diagnosis and deterioration 
I wasn’t so sure 
So instead of making this a life sentence 
My death penalty 
I chose to live another day 
Not allowing this moment to end my dignity
I knew my life wasn’t destined to end this way 

The day the doctor told me 
I was a victim to Cancer
I gave the message to God 
Allowing him to solve the problem
Provide the answer
Only he could to clear my vision 
Cause at this time
Everything was a blur
I couldn’t stop, wouldn’t stop 
I knew he wasn’t done with me yet
I wasn’t ready to throw in the towel 
Take a seat, swivel away
Let my coffin bow down a whole 6 feet

The day the doctor told me 
Not only did I take heed to what he said
I believed in what wasn’t note
Understanding I had a chance 
It wouldn’t be circumstances
Used to close the book to my story 
But the reason to live and be loved 
To achieve all I ever dreamed of 

The day the doctor told me 
I had Cancer 
I simply replied, “No, I do not” 
I have life 
A life not complete, nor finished 
And after 7 years of living 
I am wiser, smarter, healthier and determined 
Not to let this Cancer make me a victim 
But claim my place in David’s army
Nothing will happen to he who believes
And guess what
I’m a Survivor, I’m Here, and until My God is ready
I am not going anywhere!!!!!


 


Details | Prose Poetry | |

God And Woman

God And Woman

I did not want anything from The Almighty
Sacrificed untouchable realization
Which is symbol of myself
And dedicated emotions, silence.

I did not demand anything from the woman
Allowed her into the corner of my mind
Which is the center of bleeding
And presented my intuition.

The Almighty and the woman repeatedly call
Destruction in my lonely life
It's the ability to do more by them...


SANDIP GOSWAMI, INDIA


Details | Prose Poetry | |

STRONG WOMAN

Strong woman
That woman 
Who tears behind the mirror? 
Made me who I am 
My hardened heart she took
Tenderized it with love
Took my salty tears 
Turned into joyful tears

That woman 
Who sighs behind the mirror 
Sighs in memory
Memories and feelings
Hardships she went through 
To feed my whole stomach

That woman
The woman pulling back her mucors
Does so in fear
Fear that ill not be what she hoped
That teared woman 
Crys in fast and prayer 
Crys for my dark self 
Cries for my future 

That woman crying 
Tears down her body fluids
Hopefully that her anger and disappointments
May atleast flow out with them
Her body almost running dry by now
That woman calls upon God
GOD atleast make him better
That woman cries for me 
That woman cries for her lineage
That woman cries night and day

How I came to be 
To be what I am 
I don’t know how
A slave of the world
A slave with one work song 
A song entitled failure 
The first stanza of calamity
The last stanza dead man where I am heading





Looking at her cry 
Twists my brains 
Is this what I am?
Is this my purpose to the world? 
Is this the man the world wants? 
Is this what God spent time Molding 
Is this what the bible describes? 
Just for her 
Just for her I take my life back 
Just for her God I stand strong 
Just for her I say no
NO no no this is not me 

Come mummy take this handkerchief 
I don’t wannna see those tears again
I love you mummy


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Gods and Devils

Gods and Devils

And on the saddest day,
“Men” created “Gods”
bestowing upon them
the power to terrorize “men”,
reduce them to subservience, servitude.

“Men” worshipped these “Gods”,
begged them for fulfillment, forgiveness,
petitioned them for mercy.
Blamed the “Gods” for all things
good and bad, holy or evil,
for all that happens is
“the will of the “Gods”.”

“Men” fear their own “Gods”.
Cower silently, heads bowed, as those
who “represent the Gods” pass -
Grovel before the power of an
unseen “God” – before a “Man”.

The “Gods” created “Devils”
as a defense against the “Men”
who created the “Gods”.  Declared
that all who questioned the
validity of the “Gods”, and their
powers, were -  “Devils” -
therefore a manifestation of “Evil”.

Thus, the “Gods” and “Devils”
created by “Man” have conspired
to hold “Man” hostage, to punish
“Man” for having the audacity
to create such “Gods” and allowing
these “Gods” to create such “Devils”.


1/7/2015

Submitted to – Gods and Devils – Poetry contest


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Thread of Hope

As all I’d ever termed wondrous bliss unexpectedly died -
As my fantasy of a reality with destruction did collide -
My hopes shattered around me like glass in countless pieces,
Fragments suspended in mocking beauty as time freezes…

The clock hand ticks forward and it all crashes to the floor
My knees hit rock-bottom when I could take no more
All I now see is blackness where once there was color
Gone appears the light from the sun and its fervor…

I begin to walk away from the pond of shattered dreams
But the glass is in my clothes and cutting through my heart, it seems
Perhaps I am too close, the smoke is clouding my full view-
Glance up at the tower, instinctively know what to do…

Run up the steps; one, two,three hundred endless stairs
And I barely catch my breath, or have time to fill lungs with air -
Before the ground beneath my feet crumbles into sand
Loud thunder above me rumbles as I fall back down on land…

And I hit rock-bottom again
Thinking this must be the end
For surely no human can go through this pain
And still see rainbows through the rain…

The whole world seems gray and black tonight
With not a speck of pure, identifiable white in sight
Nothing is untouched, gone is everything -
Then how do I glimpse in that crack a thin white string?

Among the dirt, surely this uncorrupted clean string is not real
But just to verify the hopeless doubts, I reach out a hand to feel
And to my electric surprise, it’s most tangible indeed
I yank it out attached to a note, uncrumple it and read:

“Verily, with every hardship comes ease” [Quran 94:6]

That white thread...
Of hope.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Christ Child

In eternity past, the Father asks the Son to go down.
Having equal Love for humans the "Yes" comes fast.
When Creation leads to time, the world waits for 4 BC
Marking the start of the end of Satan's long rule at last.

Did Satan laugh at the poor setting for Jesus' birth here?
A cry in a cave for animals pierces the night, changing all.
Shepherds worship; later wise kings give precious gifts.
Mary and Joseph marvel, yet Herod's rage soon gives a call.

A call to leave quickly to Egypt where they'll live as refugees.
Sparing the Christ child a merciless death of those under three.
When Herod finally dies, Jesus' parents head back to Israel.
Still not fully safe from mad rule, Nazareth is their destiny.

Here the child will grow to be a man, following His parents rule.
Surprising the Pharisees with His wisdom at 12, at 30 riling them.
Preaching with authority, healing the incurable, loving the humble.
Women weep repenting at his feet; one's healed by touching his hem.

Zacchaeus risks going into a tree and finds Jesus' salvation so free.
Nicodemus comes at night to ask and ends amazed he's met God's Son
The Woman at the Well gets far more vital water than the usual kind.
And many healed can't but tell others of the miracle God has done.

The babe in the manger now stills the storm and his disciples believe
Even seeing the dead arise, like Lazarus in the tomb for four days.
Foretelling a greater rising coming but not before immense suffering.
The sword Mary was told would pierce her heart is soon on its way.

For most religious leaders cannot tolerate Jesus' lack of respect for them.
Calling them whitewashed tombs and pointing pride out to Pharisees.
Not endearing Himself with the establishment, but following God's way.
Knowing soon He'd be betrayed, arrested, tried and tortured brutally.

Still, he calmly feeds them body bread and blood wine in a final feast.
Tells them the Spirit comes, and prays they'd be one like Father and Son.
Heads to the Garden, prays to His Father for another way if possible.
Your will be done ends and the soldiers come and with Judas kiss it's done.

The most pure, innocent Man who's ever lived is now in hostile hands.
A trial by dark without witness or any rights – and off to Pontius Pilate.
Then Herod then back to Pilate whose wife dreamed Jesus was innocent.
But the people's cries to crucify win over – Jesus caught in intrigue's net.

The child of Bethlehem now hung on a Cross between two criminals.
The Light of the World by darkness and our sins is being slowly slain.
Feeling forsaken by God, but then "Into Your hands I commit my spirit."
Reunited and soon to show the world that this Child was no ordinary one.

Risen as Jesus predicted, for how can death conquer everlasting, perfect life?
From childhood to adult not one sin, not once yielding to Satan's temptations.
Proving we can have life eternal if we confess and believe in Jesus as our Savior.
Calling His followers in risen form to await the Spirit and share Christ to the nations


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Hope You Know My Name Part Two

He has so many names and there is so much confusion, 
I'm not sure I kow them all but here are a few.

The Word of God (rev. 19:1-16) 
The Word of Life  (1 John 1:1-3) (1 John 1-3)
The Alpha and The Omega (rev. 1:8) (rev. 22:13)
The Bright and Morning Star  (rev. 22:16)
Messiah   (Daniel 9:25) (1 John 1:41)
Lamb of God  (1 John 1:29)
King of Kings and Lord of Lords  (rev. 19:16)
The Chief Corner Stone  (1 John 20:17) (1 Peter 2:6) (Matthew 21:42)
Man of Sorrows  (Isaiah 53:3)
Rod from the Stem of Jessee  (Isaiah 11:10)
Holy One of Israel  (Isaiah 55:5)

I am sure there are so many more that fit 
fit the purpose. I would appreciate it if you
would like to collaborate I'm sure you know
some that are new, jump in if you would Please?


Details | Prose Poetry | |

A running chestnut or no - on essay,idiocracy

Altogether unprofitable sentimental but no fool they call him an old sap 		        The taste of knowledge to him is sweet to get more valuable than sap to a tree	   even more valuable than the gold that runs from seven hills					 prolongs the days: but the years of the wicked shall be shortened.				  The Lord does hate pride, and arrogancy, and the evil way, and the froward mouth         the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom with an expected end pure love                  as God gives the increase I have tasted the Lord is gracious				           A strong warning from the savior Jesus He is Lord						   whosoever shall say, Thou fool, shall be in danger of hell fire                                      some may say the old sage is just saber rattling 					             Essayage the shoe on the other foot walking a mile				                   in someone else shoes who has two left feet and one leg longer				          truly your feet are bound to get sore circling around the mountain 	 			    just assaying the metal who is your maker I know mine 					         For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, 						        works for us a far more exceeding eternal weight of glory						 I am not straining gnats just spitting out the the filthy camel 				      Love the Lord God Jesus and every man your neighbor                             all the glory of man as the flower of grass like sagebrush					     God made foolish the wisdom of this world                				put your faith and hope in God and not in men 								 though man's urban inflections change the Word of the Lord stands sure                       Everlasting superior are God's ways than man's momentary dullness


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Today God Asked

do you love her?
cant you see it in my tearfull eyes
and when i am angry
what hurts me inside
what are my worries 
and why do i cry
why cant i just forget the things
i want to hide from my pride
what are these prayers
while walking and wondering
why do i suffer 
from yearning and longing
as if grief is not enough

why is it that i refuse 
to be comforted by anyone else
why do i feel so sorry for myself
no one seems to know my pain
nor does the one i love
when my voice should make it so plain
it doesn't have a choice
it can feel her name
is it a greater sin to covet
what i wish i had
and is blaming God, all together bad
why am i constantly reminded
that it is time to let go
yet hoping, always for an open door
and while i suffer all these pains
i never know if they are for loss or gain
when or if they will ever end
or do they just come again and again
do i love her?!!!


Details | Prose Poetry | |

GOD TOUCHES ME

My shoulders are blades of flesh,
they hold my skinny arms

to hands that hold this pen
across this page as it reaches
the end of a long lived life
that was meant to bend fold
and remend.

But these feet have already
left;  I can feel it in my chest.
These lips want to smile the 
day away;  I have nothing 
else to say.

Knees to my chin, how long
has that been?  To crouch, cuddle 
what is now so thin.  Press and
pull, it all fits in.  

The warmth and the cool.  These
toes are not mine, they belong to
the sublime.  Up my pants you 
will find my legs spindly; a jelly
belly that shakes in my tummy.

My thin arms hold loops of skin.
They are far away and my head needs 
covering; but the sun warms my neck
and my face is full of laughter because
God has reached out his hand to me.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

TRUST IN GOD

                              TRUST IN GOD 
WO RAATOO KO UT KAR AKSAR   
         APNAY  RAB  SAY  SHIKAYAT  KARTA  THA 
UNDA - E - ZAY  AHTEYJAAJ  KO  WO  
           LAMHEY  SHIKAYAT  KEHTA  THA
NADAAN  NASAMAJ  PAGAL  DEEWANA  
          HALAAT  KI  GARDISH  KA  ILZAAM  
                           WO  APNAY  RAB  KO  DIYA  KARTA  THA
EK  DIN ALLAH  KO  JOSH  AYA
      TAQDEER  KO  US NAY  BADAL  HI  DALA
                AP  WO  RAATOO  KO  UT  KAR  
                            ROZ !  SUJDAY KIA KARTA HAY
SHUKRAY KUDA KAY NAM PAR
          HAR ROZ ROHYA KARTA HAY
                US KI TAKRAR MAY US KAY AITAJAAJ MAY
                       EK YAQEEN KA RANG THA, EK UMEED KA DUNG THA
ALLAH  KO  YEH  SAB  PASAND  AYA  
            BOLA!  JA  TUJH  KO  MAY  NAY  NAWAZ  DIYA  
                       JO  MANGTA  HAY    MANG
                           JO  KEHTA  HAI  KHAY
                                          KAY  MAY  RAZI  HOON  TUJH  SAY  BAHUT  
                                                          KUN  KAY  MAY  HI  TERA  KHUDA  HOON 
WRITTEN BY SHAISTA MANSOOR                       


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Lord God

Halleluya!halleluy!
This is a shout of joy and happiness
Both streaming from my soul
Like waters from the mountains.
I open my mouth,recite and sing of his greatness,
His doings,are so much that I cant even tell
 I can only lift my hands up,open my mouth to say,
Thankyou Jesus

Many said that  I could not make it
And for a moment I thought they were right
But He proved them all wrong.
He is not mocked and His thoughts are far beyound our thoughts
He is a father to all and a provider to all,
And above all He reigns forever,
I can only lift my hands up,open my mouth to say ,
thankyou Jesus

Don't look down ipon yourself,
But lift your eyes unto Him
Let Him know of your desires and He will grant you.
He is a true friend,and will always be there for you.
He is a guider to thr lost and a counsel to all.
I can only lift my hands up, open my mouth to say
Thankyou Jesus.

What can I say?
He is beyound description,
And am lost of words to write ,
But ,I can only live to tell of His works
Lifting my hands up,opening my mouth i say,
 thankyou Jesus


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Pleasure in Possibilities


Writing my prose,
unmeasured.
Sometimes I try poesy,
another pleasure.
Untrained. Unskilled.
But, what a joy!
to freedom,
my thoughts I find.
And so, as day by weeks
would turn into a lifetime, could be
the possibilities concocted by gods
may be.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

The Blind Man

Blind man
Feeling anothers thoughts by touching his hands;
Can you tell who I am by my darker shades that follow the cracked, dry lines of your palms? Do you see what I hide from everyone else like a silhouetted tattoo? Can you tell that a concrete kids game isn't the only thing that almost broke the back of my mothers heart once? Is it the sound of my voice that pierces through your senses that makes you silence the memories deep within the recesses of your past? 
I can see you'd rather forget about it; discouragement is written all over a face that you can't even read. Does that make me better than you? Truth is, I long to see like you. Heighten my senses, Mr. Sphere, so that I may see everything that my two small worlds can't. I want to read a book backward and forward a thousand times without being so anxious to flip forward, because I imagine you're more patient than I am. I want to know the adventures of your vivid dreaming, and how safety sounds like whenever God speaks to you. I want to be able to wrap my head around the concept of appearing to look good even when I know that my clothes, cologne, and character are wrapped around my ego like bandages I never changed; I never knew I was a walking, talking, mummified optimist until I saw the stench of the lies I told myself seeping through the eyes of loved ones. I never again want to make another cry from a false truth. 
Mr. Blind eyes, could you help me to believe that their are others who look like me who see more like yourself? I don't like who I'm becoming, and I want to know that my choices won't be just for show. I want to know that when I look at my wife in her lifelines, we'll both be able to see that death has no real place in the wounds that love has healed. Bandages have to come off and stay off at some point; you'll never be able to move onto greater things until you can live with the sight of scraped knees that made sidewalk scars of your past. I want to carry her in the voice of my care, like a musical note you hold two seconds too long just because you love music. I want to be just like you, so that my child will want to look up and see more than a father worried about his job. I want to see that my breaths can take shape in the form of a beautiful baby. I want to give back.
Are you listening to me?..
God shows himself in rare forms, and sees with his heart when we ask Him out of the honesty of ours. So, by the time we've finished talking, what we've been searching for is already inside of us. God is blind to the sin of those who seek to be saved. Their will always be a second chance if you ask in an honest tone.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

THREE IN ONE

Father God,
The Omnescient One,
The Alpha and The Omega.
Almighty, Powerful, Unfathomable Love.
The Head of The Holy Trinity.

Jesus, The Son,
Love Incarnate.
Son of God, Son of Man,
Savior and Friend.
The Lamb of God is He.

Holy Spirit,
The Light and the Essence,
Of God The Father, Himself.
Convictor, Teacher,
Seeker of Souls,
Sent to comfort you and me.

Father, Son and Holy Spirit,
There's three in one, you see,
And we are created in His image,
So again there's one in three.

Body, Soul and Spirit too,
Again there's three in one.
He said,"We'll make him in Our own image,
And to teach him I'll send My Son."


"I AM THE 'A' AND THE 'Z' , THE BEGINNING AND THE END OF ALL THINGS, SAYS GOD, WHO IS THE LORD. THE ALL POWERFUL ONE WHO IS AND WAS AND IS COMING AGAIN."
                                                                                                  Rev. 1:6

"ONE DAY AFTER THE CROWDS HAD BEEN BEEN BAPTIZED JESUS, HIMSELF WAS BAPTIZED AND AS HE WAS PRAYING THE HEAVENS OPENED AND THE HOLY SPIRIT IN THE FORM OF A DOVE SETTLED UPON HIM AND A VOICE FROM HEAVEN SAID,'YOU ARE MY BELOVED  SON IN WHOM I AM WELL PLEASED."
                                                      Luke 4:21-23


Details | Prose Poetry | |

In the Eye of the Storm

As young people, we feel we are in fact immortal,
 like the pits of death will never cut the breathe of our pharynx short,
 until tragedy strikes and reveals to us that death and sorrow have no respectable persons
 regardless of race,gender,nor age, my revelation came in the form of a massive ef-5 tornado,
 as I sat in the hall along side my mother, we could feel such uneasiness and vexation,
 as if we were a two time felon in the courtroom during sentencing, then the mallet drops,
 wind consuming us,debris flying overhead,I heard the house I resided in being ripped to shreds,
 I felt my body rising off of the floor, I just knew I was dead,
 wish I could tell my family bye, I love you deeply within,
 then I begin to cry out Lord please forgive my unspoken sins,
 dirt circulating everywhere, I could not open my eyes,
 then I felt someone tightly clinch me, I guess he heard my cries,
 after the storm it was such a unique calmness, 
like a mother after she conceives, 
suddenly I heard people crying out, trapped under debris, 
I continued to ponder where did the hands come from that saved me...
 it was my mother, she told me she would die for me, because ill always be her baby..


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Heroshima

Heroshima
Can ewe balance out those two final hits against the lives saved those that would have 
continued WAR on Asian Soil those days of hell of hurting men caught by bullits and the 
bayonets? Can just two bombs blasting death be counted as salvation won for all those 
young boys girls old men women who died instantly in two Atomic Blasts over those two 
cities of Japan. Nagasaki Heroshima eye have seen the END of time the BOOKS of GOD are 
open when the Dead Arrive. Arise all sleepers in those Graves can GOD usher in those 
SOULS into new places now to stay is there a place for JAPAN in Jesus Heaven? For those of 
us who sinned and suffered radiation burns lost our skins and mortal coils gone some died 
just screaming out in pain all normal living gone perhaps no time to say your HOLY NAMME 
of Jesus. Can they live there inside your heaven is it still possible that you forgive them for 
once upon the time it came to me today that a Just and Perfect GOD adjudges perfectly 
those in suffering words can not describe no time to utter words of salve; but deeds looked 
at made right by YOU salvation won given now to all. Eventide has come today to those 
whom tomb decay whom die threw no fault of there own. Just hit twice dumped down on 
Killed with anguish very slow. A special place in heaven for all those special people of Japan. 


Details | Prose Poetry | |

ApplefortheTeachor

 ApplefortheTeachor 
ApplefortheTeachor 
 
MAS come on down front you have been chosen by the frozen tender tundra to eat the 
apple i can give her. Staccatto beating in the background leaning to the south moving in the 
night polish wont make green apple to shine. The love GOD has for all of us in is SON Jesus is 
also inside us in our Souls inside our Spirit. He did this even though none of us are worth this 
a freely given gift. Something that opens up inside us each and every day. Better then the 
food we eat the apple red and green. Better then what people give on Christmas Day the 
packages wrapped and placed underneathe the tree dont open that dont shake it up dont let 
Johnny see. Perhaps its all the things that boy has stored up all year long some new toy he 
saw on television laying on the lawn. He never picks it up now or plays for very long. This 
Christmas please think of how the Son Of God must feel when we ignore his gift to us. I feel 
so guilty of his love inside this green forgotten apple in the bucket in the snow. Sorrow not 
the answer the apple catches worms so the food stored in the bucket doesnt turn to molded 
into love when I get hungry having none I go to cuppoard never barren there. I cannot eat 
much fruit anymore but mix the trail will fill me up when there is none to find in town. For 
CHristmas is two missing weeks after Thanksgiving missing one. SUnday on the November 
twenty nine untill Friday December Eightteenth then back for three more days then Monday 
the eleventh of January I solidify for more solid days activities perhaps the apple won. Bright 
red and polished up for teachor loves. Look for me with love. 




Details | Prose Poetry | |

A Central Focus

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w_YJhmGKTxk&feature=related http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kl-VCHzS1So&feature=related http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KwsvqVmFV6Y&feature=related http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=18CJGlp5eiI&feature=related "A good-controversy is-just-like a real-tasty pot of-beans; replenishing the water-you-have to-keep-them stirred-up, lest you-do-this-they-tend to- get to tasting-bad, getting-stuck-on-themselves, burning to-the bottom-of the- pot... ." http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rKbk_dQ8Mhg "I mean imagine if you will one thought or existence where there is nothing of evil, everything of goodness, then imagine if you will the latter... ? Where then is there more comfort in the fathoming... ?" "In the purpose of liberty and for the evolution if you will of growth towards an abiding unity with God and man, my choice if I am bold enough is to in the offering - allow myself to know them both as they are - so I may be moved myself in the direction; of pure divinity... ." http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VU_rTX23V7Q&NR=1 "No; we as creators being gifted or so bestowed as we all are with the powers of free will and the intuition to weigh the realities of these truths, well often times absent of the adoration; thereby-insight (I know now; for myself, as I am being-shown-when I am opened myself to-look) this virtue granted us through-this prominent-consideration - we alone as a result within ourselves without this, create our own follies as it were... and as it is it is as well why I think, feel, believe; have-faith now that God in His eminence offers these blessings - all evolving as one as they are in-Him as a gift unearned; of His Unconditional-Grace, Mercy; Forgiveness." http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p7TrU4_-JTY "Because indifference is the plague of the heart I am coming to find - blind tendentiousness the babbling brook sown solely of this denial - abiding absent of this Forgiveness, Mercy - forevermore feeding it's root - latter the boldness, passion; pureness, perfect opportunity; honest beauty/eminent-blessing... yes; provision, of this Grace... ." http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4xLdpM01inM&feature=related "The hyphens are all used in conjunction with one another for recording purposes for the disabled." http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uhOJW4Uwy3c&feature=related http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7L4oaLSWHrk&feature=related http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3KkUeRPjc-Y&feature=related http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YqUsAHTUPTU&feature=related


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Like An Angel from God

Years passed with no attempts at finding the one,
The one to cherish forever and call mine.
My inner soul sometimes cried from loneliness
But was it a simple relationship I had been yearning for?
Or was I crying out something so much more?
I could feel the struggle between body and mind
The scorn, 
How it left my heart completely torn.
I began to think I would never taste,
But not a normal taste,
I began to think I would never get that real taste of Love.
Realizing Love was no abomination,
That it was possible
Possible for anybody…
And like an Angel from God 
I found my one
The one to call mine
I felt as if I had bamboozled Loves obstacles.
The one that I now call mine is like no other
She undoubtedly is something special. 
Our Love has only begun to bloom
But the tender touch of her heart against mine,
Makes the passion and Love for one another burn like an endless flame


Details | Prose Poetry | |

CharlaXTitle8

Schism
 FAITH is a shield that covers a man from head to toe. True faith surpasses dead works. And now to this title poem. Ed. Note. There is GOD and his SON and his SPIRIT they aer three separated and distinct images and yet they aer one persona one giant mega person perhaps with three faces. No one has yet completely deciphered his image iff an artiste was to create to paint GOD eye suppose it could look something like an Ancient of Days upon a Throne not once but thrice with the same face three times the image of the SON being the predominate one. The first image an old ancient man. The second one is harder a Scepter in his hand of Righteousness a crown of Diadems jewelry that cannot be likened to money or material wealth but as a sign and symbol of his Authority. Jesus has a Crown for he is Ruler of this universe. The third image; that one of the Spirit, is yet harder to discern the same Jesus face in a burning glowing place. A Glow of Flame a Fire; however, made of warmth and love.
A SPIRIT made of GOD. He broke the Horn off Satan forehead gave the world back to the Flock. Gentle reader ewe just stop. Stop strife worry remember what a PRICE was paid for love and go back to the cross for there we pray. Yes we build all our deeds the love upon the Death, not counting all the cost our possessions all our love our very lives depend on Christ our King. A living GOD a loving Spirit a wonderful Father who gives more than mere health and wealthy love neither constrained or with any guile or predetermined Schism of the flesh just unconditional love without end lasting forever nothing ever is needed again love. Eye am reminded of the many infirmities of flesh the frailties of a man the Schism of his Grace as eye sit ici with this pen discovering all the needless hashing of old wounds fumbling at the hands and scars the wounds eye sometimes get as certain they aer thine not self inflicted or just mine. Schism is a wrent a tear in time the body dies the flesh in grave the light for all to see apparently asleep yet Schism thrives for eye have seen the Temple of the Lord a Saint a Lady in death’s place repose aware of nothing now her Spirit gone to Lord somehow twas more than beautiful to me no longing brought forth from Schism’s door a token portent of myself at play upon the earthly plain of dust the Grace upon her face the Peace mere word cannot her Journey over now convey, her Judgment come and gone and Heaven won all in a single word born. Jesus! Jesus! Jesus! Come. GOD. The maker of the Schisms all and one.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Refrigerator Love

Refrigerator Love (Poem)
God, I don't really know why You made the breadth of Your Son's arms stretch far enough apart to allow your living breath inside of dying lungs like mine. My sin is the tree cut down and shaped into the crucifix. For years, I took the blood of Your Son and smeared it over the wood, trying to splinter the genes from Your hands from ever matching mine. 
So why are you still molding me in Your image? I've always been attracted to the wrong people, places and things like a noun with bad grammar, but You spell I love you all over my surface like refrigerator magnets until it sticks. I've been outdated since the day I was born, and the 90's left my life so fast I swear they ran to the 21st century outlet to pick up a better model of me. My insides have grown freezer frigid over the years, but You've kept my heart preserved. I've left a few more spoiled memories on my shelves longer than I would've liked. Back then, I just loved the look of them still alive in me so much that I never learned to let go when I thought my life was still in one piece. Compost my past like the gardener You are. I'm on my knees begging to You to plant and harvest seeds in Your fields that will grow into fruits without expiration dates. Father, Your food is eternal because Your love is everlasting. Reverse me like a walking tomb, and let me be the body for Your Spirit to live in.
Tend to my inside circuits, and help me be a bright, electrical vessel,
Continually kept running through the night so others can see You too.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Solving God

When I was in the 8th grade i learned how to solve a Rubik's cube
and by about half way through my freshmen year I was a master
I could make cube flowers, and checkerboards and any pattern you want!
I could make white crosses and yellow crosses and red crosses and any cross
in less than thirty seconds!
I could put any piece anywhere
I could manipulate the cube with my fingers
and I could do it fast
but the thing about solving Rubik's cubes is that it is easy
all you have to do is memorize a handful of twisty turny patterns and when to use them
It is one of those tings that once you memorize you know
and I am good at those things

I am a very analytic person
and of course because of that I am inevitably not a very spiritual one
but I am surrounded by spiritual people 
I live with them
they have been praying for me since before I was born
and preaching to me everyday after

They tell you in Sunday school that if you ask God to save you he will
and it's as simple as that 
but then when you start to go to real church 
it becomes bigger than that
you see other people feeling things 
and they talk about feeling things
they say 
" I feel like God is telling me to do this"
" I feel like God is telling my to say this"
" I feel like God is going to heal you"
" I feel... I feel...I feel"
My favorite is during worship 
when the leader stops singing
and the music just keeps playing
and piano chord after chord
and guitar strums after strums go on
and I look out among the people
and it is like they a frozen
and I see them and I know they must be feeling something 
and so I try and feel with them
I shut my eyes tight and hold my hands out like they do 
I search and search for their feeling and there is nothing
and the worship leader says softly into the mic 
" I feel God's presence"
and I try to feel God's presence too
and I can't 

I want God to be something that is easy to obtain
I want to manipulate him like I do a Rubik's cube in my hand
I want to memorize and know him
But the truth about finding God is that it is not easy
I can make white, yellow, red, any cross , but I can't feel the God that they swear died on a cross for me
I can memorize scripture like twisty turny patterns, but I can't know God like I do a Rubik's cube.
And after analyzing all the facts 
I am left to think 
That maybe knowing God is so hard
Because unlike a Rubik's cube
he is not there

I have more faith in a Rubik's cube than God 
Because unlike God
the cube is always there for me.








Details | Prose Poetry | |

TEARS IN MY EYES

Tears of  the  living but painful souls are in my eyes.
Tears of  the   children whose destiny has been robbed;
Tears of the youths whose right has been denied;
Tears of  the  old parents  seeing  their wards  dying in the hands of suicide bomber.
Tears of  the   animals are  seeing their young ones dying of starvation.
My eyes are full of their  tears.
If don’t cry their tears out, I may lose my sight.

Tear of  the sea seeing fishes bodies floating on surface of the deep,
Tears of  the birds that are  falling from the sky;  begging humanity to end shooting at the sky 
Tears of  the sand that is  seeing  millions of corpses in  shallow  little  graves. 
Tears of the  poor seeking for freedom that  look like mirage.
I can’t  stop  my eyes from crying their tears, if I do , who will understand that  people have tears in their  eyes unexpressed. 

Tears of   unborn  generations  that keeps  me awake all nights.
Tears  of the innocent babes in the womb that will be denied of their  right.
Tears of seeing images of God begging for food  in the midst of  abundant  of  natural resources.
Tears  of  nations  that  are  suffering  in the hand of monsters.

My eyes are dimed , not because of  my  age;  but because of  the suffering of creatures;   That has taken ages; and   yet  to end.
Each time I see tears in my eyes, I saw nations in  bondage  chain;
When will our tears be heard by God? 
Looking down the streets, 
I saw  creature’s  eyes pushing out from the  windows ;
In pitiful  manner, begging their God for the return of  Hope.
Written by
Pastor Emmanuel Brown Omojevwe