Submit Poems
Get Your Premium Membership

Religious Animal Poems | Religious Poems About Animal

These Religious Animal poems are examples of Religious poems about Animal. These are the best examples of Religious Animal 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 | Free verse | |

Moments In Time

The sweetest sounds of burning trees
A gentle stroking in the breeze
The calm has lasted past the storm
Cloudy visions, Satan’s roar
Too many sights have passed my way
A time found only in the haze
The softest screams are running bare
My aching bones creak as I stare

You walk a distance towards me
The fall’s eternal, can’t you see?
I’m a memory in your heart
I whisper to you in the dark

The battle’s started at the end
No one is coming to repent
The sinners grab their wine from prey
No judgment calling here to stay
The sport is reckless to be told
The one is laughing at his souls
It falters nowhere to be sure
The power grows forevermore
Like a spirit in the wind
I have no say in where you’ve been 
But cross the line to come to me
And pay the price for ecstasy

You walk a distance towards me
The fall’s eternal, can’t you see?
I’m a memory in your heart
I whisper to you in the dark. 

Copyright © John Paluszek | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme | |

Pal

Bob had been a lonely man ever since
His wife of fifty years had passed.
“Lord, let me join her.” he would pray.
“Let this day be my last.”

Each day, he went to the cemetery,
Just a short walk down the street.
After their talk, he would water her flowers
And hear passers-by whisper, “How sweet.”

One gray and misty morning,
He had hoped for sunnier skies
To plant fall bloomers at her graveside;
But there, to his surprise…

Stood an old dog beside her stone;
Thin and dirty, but he struck a handsome pose.
He whined as Bob approached, as if to say,
“I could use a friend, you know.”

He sat calmly as Bob planted flowers,
Carefully sniffing each one Bob put in place.
Then, after the last one was planted,
He sniffed it; then turned and licked Bob’s face.

Bob smiled. “I had a dog when I was young…
Pal…he was a mighty good one too.
So, if you don’t mind old fella,
That’s what I’ll call you.”

Pal may have been an old dog,
But he was smart and handsome in his way;
So they made a deal, Bob would give him a meal
And a bath, if he decided to stay.

Pal loved his bath, then rolled in the grass.
He slept on a blanket in the den.
In the night, he dragged it next to Bob’s bed. 
He intended to be Bob’s best friend.

Pal was such a good dog, housebroken too;
Never made a mess or got in trouble.
He knew about newspapers, slippers and Frisbees;
And when Bob called, he‘d come on the double.

Yes, Pal gave Bob’s life new purpose.
A special bond of friendship was cast.
And never again did Bob pray, 
“Lord, let this day be my last.”

For twelve years, the very best of friends,
Together night and day;
And so it was, until one evening,
Pal quietly passed away.

Bob held Pal in his arms and wept.
“Oh, Pal…my best friend…you saved my life.” 
He caressed Pal as he reminisced;
Then, sometime in the night, Bob joined his wife.

The next morning, an old woman,
Tears welling in her sad and lonely eyes,
Brought fresh flowers to her husband’s grave;
But there, to her surprise….

Stood an old dog beside the stone, 
Thin an dirty, but he struck a handsome pose.
He whined as she approached, as if to say,
“I could use a friend, you know.”

He sat calmly as she took old flowers
And put fresh ones in their place. 
He carefully sniffed the fresh ones,
Then, turned and licked her face.

She smiled through her tears.  
“I had a dog when I was young...
A good one too.  His name was Pal.”

Copyright © Robert Candler | Year Posted 2014

Details | Haiku | |

Haikus About God: II

Invisible chap
Bearded egomaniac
Probably not real

Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

The New God

You're a voyeur at best!
Your vampiric heart beats out of your chest
Ready to consume the final climax
I know who you are - when the lyrics fail to resemble
Letting your poison drip straight from your lips
Portraying, entertaining the image of sex's delusion
You know only rape - manifestation of hate
Lack of the fruit of the beauty of a human mind
Depths you'll never penetrate!

She was only a doll - type of a lost father's adore
Impaled into a desperate whore
Shamefully out of broken safety's  choice 
She bore embryogenesis of morose
May your rusty blades caress as they please

So confront the masses with the halt of embryogenesis
Let the worship of machines be
Leg them construct us cell to cell
Nature's just in the way
Of our race of perfectly engineered machines!
The burden of conception
Surrenders to the will of
The New God
   

Copyright © Wyatt Loethen | Year Posted 2012

Details | Free verse | |

To Kill The Choctaw Cow

           To Kill The Choctaw Cow

The Choctaw Nation Oklahoma, with proud and noble people
Hunting is our nature and our way
Pretty Tail was a family member, a friendly cow
She gave us milk for many moons
This is the story of her kill 
My father Bully Ten Foot is our chief 
Old and ill from living beyond himself
Hills and tent on prairie land, filled our purpose
No game to feed us so our cows sustained us
Food was scarce through winters blasting bite
Pretty Tail stayed just outside my tee pee every night 
Years of her soft moo would sooth me off to sleep
Starvation steeped in desperation came on hard 
Crops failed, grazing ended without rain
Pain became the Choctaw, as one and the same
An Indian man must always be a brave
Must know his reason within nature and the nation
Bully Ten Foot honored me, with the sacred task
My hunting knife and I took Pretty Tail down below the neck
I slit her deep within her throat
She bled on me her blood, a river of sorrow
For hours I let her do so with her last drops of red
And held her tight as my best friend
Made sure my tears spilled over into her blank eyes
And cried for her, in her place
Never again will I wear hide or eat a steak 
But I ate her brains for power
Rode at great speed on angry stallions back
Black, with strong memories in mind
And opened up inside the plains releasing spirits
To send her off
From Choctaw Nation 


9/24/14 Divine Intervention - Poetry Contest

  

Copyright © Earl Schumacker | Year Posted 2014

Details | Sijo | |

Creation

Bloodthirsty tiger lies in wait to tear dog's flesh from bone,
Elsewhere, dog nurses an orphan tiger cub, licking and washing,
God looks down from His throne in heaven and smiles on them both.

Copyright © Kim Bond | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

The Night of Unleavened Bread

Matzos slip into their mouths
Voices project merrily...tonight is
The night of Unleavened Bread

Lamb and other delicious
Meats and veggies... satisfies our taste buds 
What a splendid night it is!

Wine's brewin' in our wine cups
The dinner table - creates pleasant talk 
During this meaningful night

There's moments of quietude 
When it comes to de-leavening our lives
But, there's moments of gladness

On this night of peacefulness
Cheesecake - a delightful treat to savor 
During this night of pure bliss

Copyright © J. W. Earnings | Year Posted 2013

Details | Iambic Pentameter | |

Serpens Savium

I lay encased in darkness, in loathing, 
With twisted visions, my mind betrothing 
My dried lips with a lustful, moistened hue. 
In that blackness moved a slender figure, 
Its shadowed frame increasingly bigger, 
As it coiled tightly around my senses. 
And into my ear I felt a whisper, 
So surely of some forgotten sister
Released to tempt one upon his Garden.
This serpent lady, she but kissed my throat, 
And claim of my soul this seraph could boast;
Into her cold grasp, my consciousness sank.
Breaking from that kiss, I felt her slither
Beneath my spread, her sweetness turns bitter
As she encumbers my mind and my bed.
Upon my neck there's a burning trickle,
Her fangs no longer a sweet, soft tickle;
She licks my waist, I fall into a death.


---- 

Note from the author: 

Lately I've been very inactive with my poetry. I've had a severe writers block and my mental health, usually a fuel for my writing, got to the same smothering inevitability as putting too many coals on an open fire at one go; my writing was starved of some form of oxygen that helped it thrive. To be honest, I'm attempting my writing again, but just where I've got to it compared to some of my other poems on this site I just don't know. I hope you all can soon appreciate and enjoy my writing again, and thank you for your time in perusing my poetry.

Copyright © Darren Mallett | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme | |

How The i Ching Came About

How the ‘I Ching’ came about.

Once there lived a wise old man
His name, it was Lau Tzu
This man he lived in ancient China
And what he loved to do
Is watch the birds, and all the beasts
And watch the rivers flow
He had no time for the foolish ones
Who’d say these words ‘I know!’

Folk would come from miles around
To hear this old man speak
Hanging on to every word
For they had come to seek
The secret of their lives, through him
Though he had naught to say
Except to flow just like a river
And live your life today.

One day he made to go and live
Where the forests, they grew wild
But he was stopped there at the gate
For the guards he had beguiled
They made him stop and write a book
Before they’d let him go
That’s how the ‘I Ching’ came about
A book to help folk grow.

26 December 2013 

Copyright © peter duggan | Year Posted 2016

Details | Lyric | |

God's Blind Eye

Ten talons, ten claws and coherent eyes/
Ten fingers, ten toes, twenty reasons why/
when an animal fights for its right to life/
And goes off of instinct for every bite/
Why is it spared the afterlife/
In which its sins are brought to light?/

Why is it that 'cause men can lie/
Rape, steal, cheat, fight, then when we die/
We are sent to hell with these reasons why?/
But an animal strives off selfish pride/
And then is blessed with god's blind eye/

He turns his back on them
No alibi/
Too dumb
Too numb
Too uncivilized?/
Why us, 
why them, 
why not ask why?/
Are they so different from us,
Or Are we just blind?/
And Why can't we get 
god's blind eye/

Leave me from heaven
Keep me out of hell/
When I'm gone all I want 
Is to sleep so well/
No worries or stress
No painful affairs/
a blacked out presence
void of all cares/
No judgment, no sorrow,
No regrets nor fears/
No more suffering
and no more tears/
Let me cease to exist
Let me see what its like/
I didn't ask for this life,
to lie is to be alive/
So why can't I get
God's blind eye?/

Copyright © Bo Vigoren | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse | |

Sobriety - The Poison That Fades

I'm sober but in a intoxicated way, 
when I walk, I mumble to myself 
delicately.
The words are like poison. 
The acid melts away the compliment 
to the barest bones. 
I grind them 
to make soup.
The worms find themselves confused as they go towards the surface just to be breakfast for a bird who hasn't seen their children in what seems to be years.
As the wind picks up speed, the bird fights through it. 
As I did. Is there a battle waging
or is life supposed to be a struggle?
The lungs collapse and the avian angel plummets towards Earth 
with only herself to blame.
If we're all God's creation, why did he make us different from one-another?
Why don't we live in complete equality?
Like the decomposing used-to-be's...
Only in death are people the same, we are not meant to know why, if we were privy to this knowledge, we would all die and throw ourselves to the ground in hopes to join them in the soil.
My words feel like toxic, my bones feel weak. I'm a struggler. But I don't know why...
If I just fight for a moment longer, maybe then I will find internal peace, with an external breath.
Because if I don't I only have myself to blame. 
I'll make the angels wait. 
I still have my concoiusness.
That keeps repeating the same phrase: 
"To dust we were formed 
and to dust we return. 
But dust fades 
and poison remains."

Copyright © Shane Houston | Year Posted 2016