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Heaven Prose Poetry Poems | Prose Poetry Poems About Heaven

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

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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 |

Familiarity

What is it to 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 |

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 |

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 |

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 |

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 |

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 |

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


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