Submit Your Poems
Get Your Premium Membership


Prose Poetry Heaven Poems | Prose Poetry Poems About Heaven

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

If you don't find the poem you want here, try our incredible, super duper, all-knowing, advanced poem search engine.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Love Is My Heaven

~“Tis torture, and not mercy. Heaven is here
Where Juliet lives, and every cat and dog
And little mouse, every unworthy thing,
Live here in heaven and may look on her,
But Romeo may not."
- William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, 3.3



~Blind am I to be of love? Here be mortal eyes, seeing with mine heart. Whereupon earth, I behold her at all times. There in deep pools, from pebble tossed, the rippling flow of her hair. There, where lies the dew upon the buds. Her moist red lips awaiting my favor. In the courtyard fountain's purl, tis the beauty of her laughter. All about me is her visage, from waking morn, to deep twilight. Even the moon does look upon me. Gently caressing my face and does kiss me with her light. Blind to love I cannot be. Not when her love is my world, my eyes, my heart, my very being.~
For the contest, Romeo And Juliet; How Tragic Love Is


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Where I Come From

Where I’m from
Would you like to know
Where I was born
From whose seeds I sow
Not from the hill country
Where beautiful flowers bloom
Not by the river
Where brides marry in June
But I’m from a place
You’ve never been
I’m from the depths of hearts so true
I’m from the soul of hearts once blue
I’m from the joy of what’s meant to be
I’m from a place you dream to see
I am an angel
I’m from above
I was born in a city
But,
I come from love.

By Patricia Templeton


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Borrow Time

A question, a sentence all made since, My apologies indeed,1 to the 2,3…. Can you make time a map, A man a watch, watching it as a clock slide by, Dear fox. Go seek out a dinner for me perhaps a dinner for three, Cause what I could see was a family for me. Is there no good or bad or have you seen no evil to know what it is sad, Settling for less if not the reason why this pen flows, At five o’clock in the morning just after I take a ride down to the coast, I began to catch a feast is it time for lunch with a breeze? , Please just read. But I took the road not taken, And like Robert Frost it was a demon I seen; in me. A lyrical poem with many different poets all in one, a rust diamond if this still is not gem, site the beach, for more discrete. I remember a famous rapper say don’t read too deep into my rhyms, I said to myself I know the feeling too well to be speechless to dine in and be sleepless, This is not the white house but the light is on in this house, all the time. This is the saddest thing to try to reason as I am floating in and out of consciousness , In a lumpy bed watching the clock, skip a beat at five o’clock in the morning, What a treat, And surgery of all things staying awake listening to everescence, Thinking to myself how this would sound better if it was duet with some R&B. I went across the street seen the Raven but still believe in heaven, And as I was waiting patiently a Rose grow from concrete, How long would it grow until the end of the road I think still, and blink. If you knew would you still search if you knew? Could you paint a picture of the life after death only if you knew. Can you get the greeting, and I mean all is well tell this to the Senate, This meaning is too far-fetched to reason. Like my favorite Poet John Milton my favorite poet without any QUSTION, That a book tells two side to a tale, why not witness? By just listening, Question! ! ! The life of a SENTENCE! ! ! It still makes sense somehow more or less than other. I blinked again knowing the content of his meaning, And arose from sleep just as a whisper in the night, And repeated repented as needed the questions, Indeed to answer all too well, Being five o’clock in the morning it was a question, A sentence it all makes sense, One to the two, three…… I sleep with a pen but I sleep with sword! ! ! ! ...


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Familiarity

What is it about me
that I cannot place you
in the picture painted by the years
the life has already spent?
Do you merely lurk,
and leave at a much later time?
Or, 
maybe
you are staying
because 
    you 
        are 
           meant
                to 
                   stay.

Then,
stay.
If you may.
I pray.
While I find a place (for us)
in the picture of eternities,
the gods must be 
hiding, 
conspiring;
themselves amusing.


Ah, the grand scheme of things -
                            a forgetting.
A familiar spirit we feel -
                            a remembering.     


(Note) This piece was inspiredly written for the beautiful souls - even the 
strangers - I have met along the way and will still come upon in my lifetime. To 
each special one, you have stirred quite a familiar spirit within. A remembrance 
of forgotten past, I suppose. Thank you for letting me peak through your 
soul's window. The veil of forgetfulness has never been thin as now to me. You 
have so given me a gift I shall treasure in the moments I may tend to forget 
who I truly am - a being with a soul.



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 | |

Chocolate Heaven

Happiness surged within her
As she slowly kiss his finger tips
He whisper and sighs!

“Make me hard with your eyes.
My chocolate heavenly prize
Grant a dying man his wish”
“ all I need is you”


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 | |

Hell is a Fine Line Between Forgiveness and Heaven

      “Although meaning well, the bottom line shows that a “Jersey Rules” Adoption Attorney, 
a Children of the World Executive Director and the sidling State that is New Jersey had all gambled with the path of lives.
 And now hopeful we should be, each and every soul carries a sealed fate according to visions of karma. 
     One wonders about the autumn of life – if in some of their minds…? 
…Seen loosed for the first time are an infant’s fenced-in lonely springs of life cries, which time had been known to eventually turn into joyous laughter when windblown and lost amongst a summer’s children’s own. 
    This endure of karmic atonement I can only compare if viewed as a metaphoric wind born penance remind given to a phalanx of the forgiven, 
now found ironically within a snow fence’s charged duty to help clear the avenue to adoption. 
Yet for the task of some snow fences, 
found bound is the standing turpitude of the not forgiven; it is when these weathered pickets are subjected to that same constant echoing wind that rushes past, 
drawn out from its gusts is the steady drone of haunted howls for the cold, cold company to once again surround and soon forever to be their winter life’s keep!” …An Unknown Father  



Details | Prose Poetry | |

EASTER

EASTER

King of Kings,
And Lord of Lords.
And He shall reign,
Forever and ever.

Are these not the words of Christmas?
Did Jesus lose Sovereignty after His birth?
Do we just forget this through the year,
Does the Son of God lose His worth?

The Christian Faith lives in a Person,
Not just an accepted creed.
He was born, lived, died and arose from the dead,
This is the Christianity we need.

Christ is the personal, Living Center,
Of all things we believe.
He remains the Church's Sovereign,
His resurrection saved you and me.

We know the enjoyments of this life,
The pleasures that come our way.
But the Christian belief within us,
Helps us make it through the day.

Christianity is more than a history,
Of ancient writings told.
It is the very source of truth,
That comforts when we are old.

We are different Christians than our parents,
Who lived a life so true.
They gave the love and knowledge,
That would guide and comfort you.

We are challenged to pass this message,
A belief in God and His son.
So that our children may know and learn,
He truly is the one.

This Easter is a reminder,
Of the Christmas message brought to all.
It took His Death and Resurrection,
To save us from the Fall.

RAYMOND V. MORGAN


Details | Prose Poetry | |

The generous mother Earth

THE GENEROUS MOTHER EARTH
How generous you are the mother Earth
It is from thee that man was made
You have made man un-thirsty
And your benevolent in giving out of nothing is inexplicable
You feed the worthy and the unworthy
We are till forever indebted to you
To return what thy have taken from thee!
The heaven can never be ungrateful
For the inexplicable water supply
That has made the heaven glamour
That has made the birds of the air gorgeous and flamboyant
They can never fail to pay thee, the last tribute
As to return the expedients taken from thee!
You have continued to bring out valuables
That prompted the regalia of men
That necessitated the pride of plants and flamboyant flowers
That yielded the live of insects and man
 They wouldn’t hesitate to vomit explicitly what they have savored
To the generous mother Earth!
 


Details | Prose Poetry | |

A Trip to Heaven

Sitting working in my private room a grandfather clock ticks and tocks so very loudly,
Like a metronome tuned into my mind my eyes become heavy my lids slowly begin to close,
My mind drifts into very dark places, jet black places with a tiny white dot way off,
I walk towards the dot and after miles and miles it started to grow so much brighter.

Looking behind to see where I started there was nothing just the darkest of dark black,
I have no choice but to keep on walking towards the white dot now confused and scared,
After hours and hours I reach the dot but it is not a dot now it is a new bright world,
There were green fields greener than I have ever seen the trees had heavy velvet leaves.

People walked towards me they were smiling they were happy I wanted to shake their hands,
But they hugged me and held me and talked so kindly my troubles and worries disappeared,
Young children skipping, my new friends laughing it seemed I had known them all my life,
Being with these people was pure happiness we walked up to a white mansion we went inside.

A beautiful girl came running out to meet us she stood in front of me and gave me a rose,
It was the reddest rose I have ever seen it was frosted and gilded and drops of dew fell,
A man with grey hair and a white suit sat by a piano and began to play the sweetest tune,
I leaned on it's shiny surface and could feel the beat of soft hammers on wire, pure music.

All smiled and clapped when this maestro had finished my friends giggled as they saw my joy,
They asked lovely questions nice questions I enjoyed answering as they made me feel good,
We got up and began to walk back to the place where I had first met my wonderful friends,
We talked we laughed everything was about nice things I could feel the smile on my face.

Then the man with grey hair and the white suit said it was time that I made my way home,
Still smiling I desperately wanted to stay forever he saw this and said to have patience,
They stood in line by the entrance each person hugged and kissed me tears ran down my face,
The next thing I knew I was in my private room the grandfather clock still going tick tock.

I thought about my wonderful dream those wonderful people and still felt very warm inside,
It was all so very real and was very disappointed knowing it was just a lovely sweet dream,
Those people in that beautiful garden blessed with such loveliness they seemed so very real,
Standing up and stretching I saw something by the door it was a beautiful rose frosted and dewy,
It was the reddest rose I have ever seen.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Leah's Angel

The stale and dusty, lead filled air
Began to stir in widening breaths.
Pinpoints of light, ionic particles charged with power,
Picked up momentum, as reality stretched.

Excitedly, they began to spin in quickening orbits
Leaving sparkling tactile meteor showers.
Then flashed a brilliant light, so pure and white, 
It tossed me, crumbled, to the quaking floor,
For seemingly raw and unconscious hours.

Dazed, and disorientated, I feared the worst.
Was Death about to open Its ever-ending door?
But, around me grew a radiant hum, louder still it rumbled,
Until at last I braved to slit my eyes
To see, if only for a moment, what marvelous
Spectral filled the space, causing my life to tumble,
Twixt heaven and earth, twixt heart and soul.

There, mighty, glorious, beautiful
Beyond words or understanding
Suspended in the ether between heaven and earth
Was an Angel of Light, illumined by immense beauty and power.
Hand outstretched, She beckoned me, to rise and closer come.

I dared not breathe or blink my eyes, lest She disappear from sight.
But more than sight, or sound, or touch
Her proof was in the mighty waves;
Waves of Energy, radiating frequencies so high, they lifted me to 
Resonance; enough to see Her shape, Her robe of light,
Her all knowing piercing eyes.

Then She spoke to me in pictures, revealing in simpicity the very foundations 
of the earth, the moon and stars, and far flung universes.
She shared the truth of Power and Light, comforting me with the mere slight
Movement of her illumined, translucent hand.
She dismissed the dense lie of my earthbound body, and commanded forth
My own radiant, pulsing Body of Light, too beautiful to comprehend.

Then a voice so powerful, so filled with Love and Grace, 
Neither male nor female, without form or face,
Spoke to me from all directions and all dimensions of space.
As if to confirm my personal divinity, It said, “You are immortal, eternal, and 
Nothing can truly hurt you.  Remember always Who You are.”

At once, I feared yet dared to see. 
I felt release, expansive joy sublime;  
For there was I, a matching Light, 
An entity of Divine Peace and Love;
My spirit one with Her grace and poise,
One with all creatures; as below so above.

Her mission now complete, 
Her image slowly faded into everyday surroundings,
Yet Her Presence lingered still; the energy of the space She filled
Still crackled with power and beauty; the very thought of Her still thrilled. 


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Juliet's Plea

~“Tis torture, and not mercy. Heaven is here
Where Juliet lives, and every cat and dog
And little mouse, every unworthy thing,
Live here in heaven and may look on her,
But Romeo may not."
- William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, 3.3

Juliet's Plea

Dost thou deem, heav'n only rises with the corpse
upon the last sweet breathe of virgin light
as face dost pale to pearl and roses leave my lips tonight
Romeo, my living eyes knew naught your purpose.

In sooth, I thought thee dead on that black night
and so, no other earthly joy could stay my heart
but heav'ns had we all, before this sorry plight
pray pardon love, I would nay have thee depart.

Abide, abide my love, my Romeo, alas...
by your leave, I hold St. Peter’s gate op’ for thee
And verily, I wait for time is naught in death 
and thee, my love, my Lord, are all to me. 

*Their love and their deaths were a scandel.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Contrast

Pharisee went into the Temple to pray
Sure of his goodness and love for God
He prayed confidently about his deeds
Fasting, tithing, praying, He did faithfully
 
This man was glad when the sinner came
Into the Temple with eyes downcast.
For it gave a perfect contrast to himself.
So he thanked God he wasn't like this sinner.
 
Sinner was bowed so very low before God.
"God have mercy on me a sinner." he whispered.
No list of good uttered, as he could see none.
Jesus said Sinner not Pharisee was justified.
 
Simon the Pharisee invited Jesus over to eat.
Simon didn't have servants wash Jesus feet
He didn't kiss Jesus or draw near for fear,
Fear of what others Pharisees would think.
 
In came a sinful woman with unkempt hair.
She wept at Jesus feet without looking up.
Carefully she wiped these feet with her hair.
Simon was now sure Jesus was no prophet
 
A prophet could surely tell she was a sinner.
How could he let her touch him that way?
Reading Simon's thoughts Jesus taught.
Using this contrast in real life as a lesson.
 
He asked Simon if there were two debts
One greater, one lesser and both forgiven.
Who would feel greater love and gratitude?
Simon replied, "The one whose debt was greater"
 
"Correct" said the One who would pay all debts.
Those who know their debt to God is great.
Are filled with greater love toward the Savior.
Simon showed he had little need for the Christ.
 
But to the woman. Jesus said, "You sins are forgiven."
"Go and sin no more." She stood free and esteemed
Precious are those who come humbly to the Lord
He will forgive and welcome them to His Family forever.
 
Humility. Pride. Contrast. Mixed in all of us.
People who come to God feeling worthless, Christ lifts up.
People striding in proudly, Jesus humbles to allow entry.
For the Lord's Kingdom's door is incredibly low.
So low that we enter only through true confession
From the heart to Jesus as Savior who humbled Himself
Coming down from glory to earth's mess to make a Way.
By humbling Himself on a Cross – Universe's God tortured.
 
Jesus contrast makes ours seem small – so why wait?
May we take the humble road to Life, risen Christ made.
Joining God's family of forgiven, freed, joyful sinners.
New life's contrast with old will grow as we follow Him.
 
By a thankful sinner now saint by Jesus' grace


Details | Prose Poetry | |

One Pair Of Hands

ONE PAIR OF HANDS
"Make it your ambition...to work with your hands".  1 Thessalonians 4:11

My dad was a coal miner,
Worked with his hands all day.
As evening came, he took time,
To fold those hands and pray.

A pick  and shovel were the tools,
16 tons for his pay.
Calloused hands gave this service,
It is the miner's way.

A family to feed, clothe and guide,
A home where we gathered with love.
That's how it is in Windber, PA,
With guidance from above.

He taught me how to prune a tree,
To mow the lawn and such.
Landscaping and trim the hedge,
It really was not much.

Your hands, he would say,
Are guided by God's Son.
He healed the sick, raised the dead,
Christ is the special one.

He raised His hands in prayer,
Loaves and fishes He did serve.
Broke bread and served the wine,
More than we deserve.

These hands nailed to a tree,
An innocent man condemned.
They bled as He asked His Father,
Please bring it to an end.

One day we will be with Him,
In glorious heaven lands.
Please find a place for your servant,
Look at these working hands.

RAYMOND V. MORGAN


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Heaven rain



The sea is drying fast
The fishes are gasping to breathe
There is no hope anywhere
Oh! Sea how will be fishes survived

The last portion of the sea is crowded
Every fish wanting to live
This portion can’t contain all
O’ god at creation you did the usual

Every fish remembered God ability
Heaven sent immediate rain
The ocean, rivers and sea are fill 
Now the fishes can live again


Details | Prose Poetry | |

The Fourth Fable

 The Fourth Fable 
The Fourth Fable 
 
A Jesus Cowboy Song 
 
Eye am a strong man iff strength is not physical alone, 
but charachter and hope, love become my armour 
 my arm as gates once opened close now new ones open at a glance in poverty 
of riches poor people there in Heaven sing to Jesus as they wave branches from 
the richness of the trees beside the waters running in the trenches freely given 
overflowing when a little lamb just wants a drink of water another drink the water 
bubbles up so no one has to lift her she can reach the water carefully she drinks 
and then she sings…' 
'my holster is empty my life is complete my love is in Heaven 
eye have plenty to eat and to drink ' 
life is not meant to be a shoot em up rodeo 
life is not meant to be a shoot um up movie 
my life is in Heaven my holster is empty 
eye have LOVE' 
 


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Heaven and Hell

Life has no guarantees 
Death is no different 
Heaven is not up 
Hell is not down 
They are both achievable on Earth. 
Verily, an evil man can live a heavenly life 
As a good man can live in hell 
Paradise is a state of mind. 
Where everything falls into place 
And there is peace and tranquility 
Do not waste your love on a deity 
Made up by men of the past 
Give your heart to a human 
Pour your soul into theirs 
Become one 
Face your future's together 
Do not speed your way through this wonderful gift 
Rushing towards the promise of 
Redemption 
And paradise 
For nothing is guaranteed in life 
And death is no different


Details | Prose Poetry | |

The Moon Shiniest Bright


The full moon shiniest bright inside its double ringed circle as I hoped to see the blood moon meteorologist talked about all week. 
Sad to say I missed the moment so many gazed with their telescopes and cameras. 

I pulled back the white sheer curtain to see the full moon shining its soft shine into my dark room. 
A brown curtain is all that keeps prying eyes from peeping in the sliding glass door at midnight. 

The wooded area so close behind my house hides much. 
No animals roaming, vertical or upright, can see me sitting, watching TV or on my iPad late into the wee hours of the morning. 

October 8 2014 sees another blood moon, but I missed it all. 
Maybe the next one will grace my eyes with its beauty. 


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Changing Directions

	I was driving on Confused Avenue, only to find a T section at the end of the Avenue, I had to turn left, turn right, or simply just turn around.
	I sat in my car, to read the street signs.  The street sign to the left was Hell Street, the sign to the right was Heaven Highway.
	Quite naturally, I turned right onto Heaven Highway.  I drove 10 miles only to find Heaven Highway was blocked, so I had no choice but to turn around.
	Instead of turning back on Confused Avenue, I decided to drive down Hell Street because I was curious about what I would find.  I drove 5 miles and didn’t like what I saw.  I tried to turn around, but, I realized I was trapped, so I continue driving on Hell Street, oh and to my surprise.
	As I drove, I past intersections titled Judgmental Court, Temptation Avenue, Backsliding Lane, Gossip Corner and Devil’s Plain.  I said to myself, these are the same streets I’ve traveled on before, no need to stop, I need to drive on. 
	I continue driving on Hell Street looking for a way to turn around, lo and behold, I saw a bright light shining in the middle of the road.
	I drove as close as I could to the bright light, I stopped the car and got out for a closer look.  I walked into the light and was greeted by a man who was kind and wise.
	I was so scared, but he assured me I would be fine.  He said I saw you driving on Heaven Highway….child, you can’t get to heaven driving that way.
	He said, In order to get to heaven you need to know about  Judgmental Court, Temptation Avenue, Backsliding Lane, Gossip Corner and Devil’s Plain.  
	I told the man I once lived on some of those streets, so I wanted to see where Heaven Highway would take me.  It was blocked, so I couldn’t drive through.
	He said Heaven Highway was blocked for a reason. You forgot to repent and ask the Father, through His Son Jesus, for forgiveness.
	I closed my eyes, feel to my knees and I started to pray, when I finished praying, I  opened my eyes, the man, and, the bright light had disappeared.
	I got back in my car and turned it around, that’s when I realized I had been driving on Heaven Highway the entire time.
	The Highway to Heaven is not a straight forward drive, there are so many detours along the way, that force many to turn their life around.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

~ (~) ~ Dedicated in Love to My Little Sister ~ Tina ~ My Songbird ~ (~) ~

Sissy little Sissy... you fought all your days as it were... . But grateful I am because what you left behind for me is the wealth of your heart so-open... precious... unconditional, pure. Yes Sissy with your broken lungs and all, watching the other children run... as they play. Faithful you were though even given the-burden of-this. You knew that in Heaven you'd be able finally yourself to do this, you knew with God everything carries the pleasure, of a brighter day... ! Now I know you are with Him, I honestly believe running like children will run come them in their glory by name, all their days, Monday through Sunday... ! God knows... it was my hope for you-you would be brought to know them in their freedom... joy... yes... their fun... ! You taught me the greatest thing as you sat talking with everyone through those tender moments given you, gasping for-air... ! Knowing, trying to offer them this truth... . Because being merely six and one half at the time still you knew, had been shown this yourself, were grateful, prayed to remain. You knew "Love is patient, kind and generous, heavenly, faithfully-and-eagerly; tenderly-aware... ." And Sissy-too... I believe now given that day you passed... beams of light shining strait on you in your bed in your room, dust gently drifting... . God He came down as the waterfalls do personally picked you up and carried you off to Heaven with Him... ! And I can't wait myself someday as well, yes I can only hope as I pray now to see you there... ! Signed forever grateful: Your brother ~ Jamie ~ Author notes http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eLRyYETnoIE&feature=related


Details | Prose Poetry | |

The Letter that made it to Heaven

( Ripley believe it or not) This occurrence I wrote happened a few hours ago, these are actual facts, deep emotions, listen to the emotions
{Comments are vital if felt}
I'm remarkably beatified, glorious augmentation, God your child is appreciative for the commendation, I (THANK) my relative Brandon Presley for the pickup, a unusual feeling about the ride, intelligence battling hardworking and vacationing, praying while a magnificent vibe of hip hop melodies is temporarily blasted, on the other hand God in no way comes last, finally the decision was final, no mystery I accepted hardwork, this brand-new meditation that plunders in my brain lets out," Your Grown, No one else can do this for you." I recognize its the humbling tongue of Lord God, God has been so good to me, and this indicates when can't is being necessarily used, I (CAN'T) over express God has been good to me, for the sake of its the truth, I believe in God, no shames a stern truth.
- Loverboi


Details | Prose Poetry | |

YOUR SPECAIL TO ME

you most then that
your my bat
for me you fight
and just right
you ar my life
you alway have the key
YOUR SPECAIL TO ME


Details | Prose Poetry | |

heaven

Times are changing
This time is strange
If I could give you the love my God once gave
I never want to put roses on your grave
It's too much to think
This time we shared
I wasn't a millionaire but I was on top of the world
You gave me that kiss
And I reminisce on a love once bliss
Cherished, the memory
Love doesn't stay
It goes away
I know you moved on and that was fine
You were splendor in my mind
This time it changes
And times are strange
What is love in these days of hate
Do you relate in a God that is dying and a a God that reigns
I feel too cold to explain
Just know heaven was never far away


Details | Prose Poetry | |

CHRISTMA AND SNOW

its feel like christma
if there the white stuff
if it sticks and thick
 and make snow ball quick
its fun to run
as the wind blow
IN 
CHRISTMAS AND SNOW


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Humility

I find it odd that as soon as I asked for forgiveness for my sins
they all came back on me - tenfold.  My seemingly 'bad' luck was caused
only by what I did to others against the will of the Lord.
When I honestly repented for the wrongs I had done, 
I didn't ask for ev'rything to go haywire, but that's exactly what happened,
because I hadn't tried to rectify my behaviors.  I tried to run from them,
and act like I'd ne'er really done anything wrong.  I tried to shield myself
from them behind a wall of lies that only created more lies.
Instead of facing up to what I'd done, and try to fix it,
I thought it would all just go away because I wanted to turn my life around
and be a better person.  I realize now that by hiding behind the hand of the Lord
I only got slapped in the face even harder.  I showed no respect for the laws of God
or the land I live in, so I got blown apart by the bomb I lit so long ago.
It's time I stop running, and face up to what I've done.  Only if I'm willing to do this
will the Lord show mercy on me.  I must apologize, and pay the price -
even if in secret.  Only then will the landslide that I created rush into the sea,
and be squelched by my honesty.  Once I take this step, all will be well again,
and I will be able to live my life in peace, knowing that I have done all I can
to right my wrongs.  And, when I die, the gates of Heaven will open wide,
and accept me unflinchingly.  Then I'll truly know I've been forgiven.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Lost Confessions

Lost between Heaven and Hell, battlements of my spirit and mind, Raptures me into 
the new day, but delivers me in the darkness of night. I argue within my mind, that 
shall wither it blind, randomly I search for the meaning that enhances the light. I 
wander through the ailment that haunts me so. Small amounts of peace keep me 
driving onward, though I feel no glow. In-between both I am haunted with one 
sight, Glimpse of the dream I hold so dear, with massive amounts of fear, my 
menacing fantasy keeps me on my fight. Each week that passes seems as everyone 
that fell before.
My soul knows my end is of a different kind, knowing the sin that I carry each night 
and the penance that I must endure. My destiny is not what I see, But is what I 
deeply ignore. Lost between Heaven and Hell, My soul cannot sell, this torment, I 
speak is a different form I break, Not just any ordinary sin, I have no-where to begin.
No end to reach, my darkness seeks light, though there is no realization to teach. I 
am haunted by the past that lonely night that seizes, though it pleases me ,but no 
other can live in the desire that I speak here and now, Others have traveled this 
road without any dark temptation, though I would lose all interpretation, with great 
litigation. Lost now and forever my dream, forgotten almost it may seem. Distant 
calls engorge my thoughts, memories chase my spirit, and lust envelops my soul, 
into the realm betwixt Heaven and Hell. My dream I shall bury, my destiny, I shall 
marry within my mind and spirit. These darkened nights shall grab the bright days 
down into the mishap of grace. I will council each cheerful day and plant a smile on 
my face. However, the agony shall drive my heart to a stainless hollowness of 
discomfort my continued dream shall live on and inhabit this shell. This shell 
someday shall wither away; there will be nothing left to tell.


Written for

Sponsor Catie Lindsey 
Contest Name Dark Prose 


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Haven

The world beyond
Holds mysteries unbound
Shrouded in dreams
Translucent figures gleam
Where ghosts and ghouls
And peace-loving souls
Reside in the domains
Of another dimension......

Can they feel, can they love
Are their lives different from ours
Do they live
In harmony and peace
No anger, no torment
Without resentment and discontent.
Smiles on their faces
Sweet and sincere, not pasted
Holding hands together
Unhampered by creed or colour.
A perfect haven for the weary
After a long, tiring journey?


Details | Prose Poetry | |

A Dreamless Tree Dweller

Swaying. Dancing. Let me carry you.
Dance for me. Dance for me. Dance for me.
It's beautiful how you hold on so tight, but reach so far.

Up and Up and Up.
Begging sunshine and starlight and moon beams to fill your cupped palm.
We' can sip from it together but we both know you'll never be satisfied
Until your silver leaves can dance to the symphonies of singing constellations.

The diamonds sprinkling down your face would look like tears.
But you, and I? We both know this isn't real. Put away your fears
And dream for me. Dream for me. Dream for me


And please darling, Let us never wake.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Heaven is a different Sign - To My Daughter

Heaven is a different Sign - To My Daughter.
While even children, 
to your brother they did ask unto you as well.

Riding the bus home from school naught being taught 
by their parents,that inside is a mind where it's light 
some have made the heavans darker
to avoid what was done by they whom all love.

If I am blind that is justice for you,when they only say.
And those Robes are to me so much darker at night.

How come each new day do I think a mircle will happen,
not only for me, but for you and the future it must.

and "Heaven" is a different "Sign" - to me, 
beings and such are you and my daughter,
when I think like them they do nothing about it.
and My shame for them just continues to grow
like the robes colored purple wrapped all about them. 




is it poetry