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Religious Art Poems | Religious Poems About Art

These Religious Art poems are examples of Religious poems about Art. These are the best examples of Religious Art poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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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

Details | Verse | |

Mind and Sound

Only light can penetrate the 
that resides in the default state 
of mind
I descend from beta to delta 
binaural beats; instantly caught 
between frequencies beyond 

I absorb amplitudes of acoustic 
and I learn to just be earth 
Since I am the earth 
and because I am of
the one that is the source of its 
I've owned the power of 

I realize now that I AM because
HE is since I am from that, a 
Created in the image of a 
and a feeling from the 
Universal Mind
I tune in to this vibration from 
pulse that manipulates 
subconscious minds

Immersed  between 4 and 7 
brainwaves halt to a conscious 
All  chakras are aligned shining 
crown energy 
and now my consciousness 
begins to reap! 
and light begins to penetrate 
the harmonious beams
that were already there
constant and always there 

is now flooded with sound 
that force brainwaves to submit 
to power
of omnipresent sound that 
always was 
and always will be connected to 
the Source from which I came
so I extend exponentially 
physical time and space

I long to embrace the intensity 
of gamma rays
I give way to the coded sounds 
that resonate from the inner 
and continue to connect 
through the binaural beats that 
remind me of before

Always familiar but ignored
until found by gaining 
knowledge of self
I listen with the intent to excel 
while reaping an abundance of 
benefits and rewards
It's already yours

Just reach out and grab it 
as long as intention and ego is 
the universe will correspond 
it will deliver a life to you divine 
and orderly
Just listen to the sounds that 
were there from before
They will guide to to the 
vibration from the core
and it will guide you to connect 
directly with the source 

Copyright © humble b

Details | Free verse | |

the Rose

                 The Rose innocent white, soft pink, yellows 
                colors touch your soul vibrant red to amethyst

                enhances beauty yet a thorn awaits to break skin
                as life does piercing your heart with a thin pin.

                My life has shed drops of blood through each petal
                 as if in return for the love and beauty you feel

                hence pain underneath patiently waits the bloodletting ~

                The rose symbolizes love yet vulnerable to hold
                for when you open your heart it can be left bleeding

                The best of surgeons can not beat your heart
                It is the inner faith and God himself whom gives strength 

                whispers in your ear you shall live you will exist
                your life meaningful as the water and sun to the rose

                 For I am your God  your existence is not over yet .
                        You must Live ~You must Bloom 

Copyright © Shanity Rain

Details | Dramatic monologue | |

The Duchess Of Paradise

She's highly sophisticated and full of undefiled wisdom
Yet a crowned Duchess in a paradise kingdom
Quite a beautiful angel flying with black wings
Covered in gold jewelry and precious things
She dresses like the women of ancient Egyptian class
Her wealth is generous and her money grows like grass
She loves orange scented candles with dark room flame  
She rules thirty legions of soldiers and Bune is her name
Her comely warrior voice can wake and relocate the dead
Her armies of soldiers gather around the cemetery
She is brave and deserves a princessly crown on her head
Her facility of speech and flair for words is legendary
A beautiful queen to be treated with respect and honor
Instead of blasphemy,wanton abuse and fictional horror

Copyright © Bill Kim

Details | Verse | |

Spirituals and Drums

My ancestors walking in the night
using oil lights and moonlight for guides
while being instructed to Wade in the Water
to camouflage their scents like disguise

The Sweet Chariot awaited 
so they could ride away
Harriet was a soldier
and it wasn't an option to be caught during the day
That's the same mentality Nat Turner had when he sang
Steal Away

They would follow the drinking gourd
so all were in accord to go north
The Gospel Train was coming
and at the end of the journey
was a fine reward
Freedom was coming
and it was a long time coming and
they walked until they heard freedom bells ringing
and I still hear their tired footsteps running

Thinking of My Darling Nelly Gray
Stolen from my arms a random September day
and eliminated our chances to run away together
No family ties, no love, no strength says the oppressor

Then I hear the drums beat in the darkness
giving me the hope of finally being free
Maybe I'll follow them this time on faith
on bended knee
There must be a place for me among the light
of this darkness
Among oppression, thieves, evil-doers
no thought on their conscience

Thank goodness for the safe houses that
supported our traveled distances
and for the conductors who bore witnesses
and may God have mercy on the souls who
were against this
and on those who chose to forget this sh@!

I still hear crying in quilts of safety 
because I know that the burden was heavy
to be at the mercy of nature and patrol men
catching run-away slaves for money
Some did it bare feet with freedom ahead of this
loved induced journey and they made it
So all that bull about how your life is hard
just stuff it in an envelope and save it

Copyright © humble b

Details | Rhyme | |

The Parish

When the time comes we shall all gather, 
People of all walks and talks together, 
In front of the parish for the Holy Communion, 
It is here that we meet our companion, 
In holy matrimony we unite before the father, 

But this is no ordinary parish, 
We separate men from boys before they perish, 
We relish in wines and spirit, 
Just like church goers after the Holy Spirit, 
In beer we trust because its fetish, 

The parish,
I drink until i perish,
In beer my life i cherish,
I wish to make a wish,
Parish, perish, cherish, i wish,

Just like the church seeing holiness in the pope, 
In the bar tender we see drinking hope, 
We speak in tongues under the influence, 
And we never shy away from an audience, 
So don't demonize us, we don't do dope, 

Just like Jesus who walked on water, 
We keep on walking like Johnny Walker, 
On your wall the Holy Virgin Mary, 
On mine you'll find the famous Hale Berry, 
Unlike them were living our happily ever after, 

The parish,
I drink until i perish,
In beer my life i cherish,
I wish to make a wish,
Parish, perish, cherish, i wish,

We've never missed a bar gathering, 
On several occasions you've missed a church meeting, 
We pay all our dues to the bar tender, 
You hardly give two percent tithe to the preacher, 
So when we meet in hell spare me the greeting,

Copyright © Billy Simani

Details | ekphrasis | |


On Grandma’s bedroom wall hung pencil sketches
To inspire me and draw me in, never fail
The hands in prayer our daily blessing fetches
The cuffs rolled back, work ready, in the detail

The fingerprint motif of light on hands
To give us notice we are unique – and His
Strong thumb accentuating Holy Bands
Steeple elongated fingers, preaching Bliss

On The Tree, He died for our earthly sins
(The cross marked in the veins of the left hand)
He wished to spare us the suffering since
Love and compassion, for which we should stand

Only in Truth can we realise beauty
The Hands setting the example of: “Thank Ye!

[Poetry form used: Sonnet]

If we do not live in Truth, a God given opportunity which we must embrace, then the beauty of all that we perceive will pass us by. ~ Su Crous 

Inspired by: ‘Hands of an Apostle’ by Albrecht Durer:

Sponsor:	Heather Ober
Contest Name:	Famous Art |

Copyright © Suzette Richards

Details | Dramatic Verse | |

Brake Change

Rotors spinning 
Gods kingdom 
Deceptive revelation 
Lies built - unto the throne 
Living without guilt 
Dying all alone. 
Callaper grinds 
Whatever she finds 
Like god throwing stones 
Brakes are broke 
No chance to show 
Vehicle now disabled 
Watching us go. 


February 22nd, 2008 


this is dedicated to my sharp bud Christopher T. we hung out all day and tried to change the brakes on his van. Inspiration hit me with 3 short poems I'm posting. It was a good day and I had a lot more fun then anyone else.  Including you ::points out of screen:: what did you do that day? Didn't hang with us, well, 
that's too bad. 
sorry, charlie!

Copyright © Joel Thornton

Details | Sonnet | |

Sofonisba Anguissola, Pieta

Gathered, to mourn in one deathless hour
Fragile, a test to faith's consummate power
Grief, which is stone cast, among five stricken faces
Softened by reverence, and mute, anguished traces

Weightless in her arms, but heavy for the eyes
Devotion anchors deep, painting tears that will not dry
Each pulse that pounds, each gasp one takes,   
will rise, then, with awe, as the brush strokes create......

Lost, the desperate world, which honed new beginnings
Shattered, by the cost, as their world had stop spinning
The few souls, who cradle, unable to speak 
would renew from a tomb, He would defy and retreat 
For those who altered history, Sofonisba paints with eye and ear
Will they stutter, will they falter, or still deny that He appeared?

  Submitted for Cyndi's Contest:  A Painting....Sofonisba Anguissola, Pieta

Copyright © Carrie Richards

Details | Sonnet | |


    CIL MAOLCHEADAIR   (Kilmalkedar)
On such an Irish spring and drizzle morn,
she wandered through the graveyard, looking for
the Celtic dream from which her past was born,
and every sight brought her to wanting more;

she dreamt her roots from carvings on a stone
as if she understood each chip as real,
passed down to only her, and her alone,
from pagan worship she could almost feel;

and she could bundle them within her mind
to share with Pennsylvania kith and kin,
perhaps the magic, if still there to find,
would be an understanding where they've been;

and she will burn her candles every night,
hoping Kilmalkedar will make it right.
       ©  ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet

Copyright © Vee Bdosa

Details | Epic | |

An heavenly country

Thou art holy 
Oh an heavenly country 
A land of milk and honey 
A land of justice and equity 
A place where everyone 
Is free and happy 
A vineyard full of 
Faithfulness and sincerity 
Love for the poor and needy 
Oh thou art wealthy 
Thou art heavenly 
A land of opportunities 
Where everyone can live his destiny 
Where there is no 
Discrimination and partiality 
Full of transparency 
Oh thou art holy 
Thou art the father 
Of the fatherless 
Hope for the hopeless 
Care for the dieing 
A place full of kindness 
Where there is free and fairness 
You are bless 
Thou art holy 
Oh heavenly country

Copyright © Matt Ancient

Details | Lyric | |

59th Minute

Its the last minute of the 11th hour
I have seen a demon wondering searching for a soul
A priest coveting the ass of another man's woman at church
Convince people you have a speed dial to God's Kingdom
And they will take any theological theories given to them
They worship sophisticated stone deities. 
Emmanuel TV, electromagnetic Gods in static images
Composers of the reverse version of the Holy grail
Cursing God, misquoting scriptures and reversing verses
Misleading women like Hershey's Kisses and forbidden pleasures
The fabric of our species is a loose canon
The revelations post-predicted by the real Mayans
The apocalypse.

Its the last minute of the 11th hour
This poem is not against the church
It speaks for Rhodes, Selassie and Robert Moffat
New disciples that walked the deserts of Africa
The founders and architects of God's synagogues
Scribers that wrote covenants in caves at Timbuktu
Puthadikobo, Livingstone, and Thabanchu
Monasteries with no Automated Teller Machices on their walls
This poem is not against Anglicans, Catholics or  Apostles
Its an allegory against those that spit on the chapel alters
The bishops and priests with their filthy  urethrae
Their genitalia submerged in the oral cavities of alter boys
Seeking head in return for blessings, deliverance and confessions
Fake Joshuas who plant placebo demons and exorcise them for fame
The same devils that preach at the podium of cathedral portals
Dangerous men, listened and  worshiped  by millions

I m not against the church.
I believe in Muhammad and Jesus all the same
And the sacred message they bring supreme
From Judah through Jordan and the rivers of Ethiopia
I stand firm against Lucifer's devices.
In the face of damnation an entire nation has succumbed
The devil puts in more work than Jehovah's witnesses
Such a beautiful genus undone at the seams by its own beliefs
Victims of natural selection and ever-upgrading IQs
Each generation figures they can be better than their creator
Separationists led by confused evangelists
I m not against the church. I m against religion 
I have seen a demon at church searching for lost ones
A priest coveting the ass of another man's woman at church
Its the last seconds of  revelation's  last moments.

Copyright © Prince Katlholo

Details | Couplet | |

Un grand pas vers le Bon Dieu

Sweet short round sadness in the mirror may grow;
He writes her name twice on the mind`s first snow;
It is the moment to find a joke and make her laugh;
If he holds his dreams and her hands ,that`s enough;
A smile of the kidness with each cup of tea, and soon
As brought by Fancy`s Fairy in the blond afternoon,
The taste of honey mealt in bitterness of broken glass;
The subtle drums in his ears violently might surpass
The horses`galoop at the purple banks of his veins ;
From the green empire, where eternal spring reigns
The romp`s steps of imagery in the Plato`s realm
Composing an ode of joy or a long lasting psalm:
Child dancing, playing with the joyous rain,
 Like Narcissus at the sides of the fountain.
That parfume of violets :her hair and her eyes
Tactile, fragile china, cold glass solitude lies
In their unwritten novel: everybody may choose
The thrill of dancing among the Greek statues;
The rustling of the two doves following Love`s call 
 In the hand of Light,with overflown tumult in one soul. 
The step towards his heart and quickly her stop;
Without the slightest hesitation, all muscles hope
 Ready to caught a falling star still hoping
The crystalline tear prolonged dropping
Transformed in advancing recollections through:
Two masters of slaves and two slaves ,thus sum two.

Copyright © Ovidiu Bocsa

Details | Rhyme | |


[Disclaimer: The poem does not intend to hurt anybody’s religious sentiments. It is purely for the purpose of entertainment, art and awareness.]

[Note : - If you don’t know who is Draupadi, follow the link given below the poem to find out]
You are not a s**t. You are not a w**re. You are not what people think. You don’t deserve the abhor. You didn’t choose polyandry, It was a nonsensical fate. A man’s sly desire, But you get all the hate. We hail Karn’s sacrifices. We all feel his pain. He is held like a hero. Your go in vain. When the rules of a game Became bigger than your honour. The respected men, shame, Pushed humanity to a corner. Turned a deaf ear to your screams As you were disrobed to their gaze. The honourable men errant extremes But dirt is shoved in your face. A symbol of rape victim S**t shamed by the society. A fodder of the chauvinists, A pacifier of their insecurity. But you don’t need our sympathy, You are fire in disguise. The sexism,however, is thriving So I incessantly despise. You are not a s**t. You are not a w**re. You are not what people think. You don’t deserve the abhor.
Now read a more detailed version of my poems, find out "behind the scenes", inspiration, in depth story and a lot more ONLY ON MY BLOG. Follow the link and support Thank You PS - I hope you understand the reason why two cuss words have been used in the poem. They are not for the purpose of spreading profanity but instead to slap the words back on the face of the sexists who call those names to Draupadi. I meant to use those words without asterisk for better effect, but I will abide by the rules and let the poem's effect depreciate a bit.

Copyright © Shivam Murari

Details | Couplet | |

The Carver's Religious Poem

The carver stopped carving
And created a poem instead

He wrote about the last thing he had carved -
The Virgin Mary

That was two weeks ago
And many people had come to see

The Virgin was smiling in her blue -
Gently waving to the poor

He called his poem "My Carving",
and dedicated it to Holy Ghost

Copyright © Julia Ward

Details | Rhyme | |


behold, a man with no resistance to good,
perfect being of a blessing as should.
born righteous,
blessing of being faithful.
true knowledge according to the fulfillment,
gentle and bold in His revealing.
humble to the end:
holding no selfish regrets,
serving Him to fulfill all His promises,
that His work can overcome sin,
that we are lifted up throughout his mercy.
all should know. 
he did this out love,
helps us move closer to the glory of his throne.
erases all questions and doubts;
that throughout one mighty act of obedience,
there is hope and chance,
to bring us back to be a part of the blessing of His reign,
take as out of worldly materials.
that the person show more wonders,
greater than anyone has seen.
that through Him we are covered and accepted, 
enough to fit through the narrow gates and be saved.

Copyright © Donn Ronquillo

Details | Free verse | |

To A Religious Lady, On Her Face

With one Million words one can not convey,
Ten hundred colors are less.
Give him golden-nib pen
Peacock’s feathers’ brush,
He may later complain.
Even any ink of hope,
An African poet would write
And had won
An eminent prize in Art.
O.K. provide him that surface
 Having grassy milieu,
Lakes’ view and a rainbows’ hue.
Well! free him all his years and ten more,
He would wander forests side
And seek that required wisdom
In summers’ starry nights, winters’ full moon.
Go, call from heaven
The so-called Raphael or any Pre…,
An Egyptian designer or a thinker of Greece,
Or an Italian I have heard much about...
I know I know and proclaim
Alone or in concert—they all shall fail,
Portraying thy rich face.

Copyright © fayaz bhat

Details | Sonnet | |

The Priest's Deep Love

The Priest's Deep Love

The bright, many colored robes he wore
Giving priestly rank to set him apart;
His faded socks, best of his own poor store,
They drew him to a new repentant heart.

In faith, uttered he words soothing great fears
And sweet wondrous words from his giving heart.
Tending masses- holding back loving tears
Pray he all, blessed and godly new start.

Through infinite quiet and its deep sound
Into that darkness and its scaring hold.
He won battles with his truest faith unbound
Prayers of epic blessings again retold.

Out from the heart of greatest faith he rolled.
Truth of scriptures as were divinely scrolled!

Robert J. Lindley, 10-29-2015

Poem Syllable Counter Results

Syllables Per Line: 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10
Total # Syllables:	140
Total # Lines:	17  (Including empty lines)
Words with (syllables) counted programmatically:	 
Total # Words:	105

Copyright © Robert Lindley

Details | Free verse | |

It is only natural

You and I are natural born poets Established from the Words of God A void-full of nothingness Then love took away the darkness You and I are a-natural work of art Chiseled from, mercy-full-of-grace From dust to the dawn of the Holy Spirit Inherited to dream life up, to the limit You and I are natural shoe-makers Captains and masters and chiefs We make rules where rules are made And make homages to what Jesus’s-life, paid You and I are natural home-makers Leaving no stones or pebbles, unturned But who’s the most natural in God’s point of view Naturally, it’ll be a tie, between me and you By:Wilbert Evangelista Dela Cruz

Copyright © Wilbert Dela Cruz

Details | Free verse | |

A poet to an artist

A poet can see the words, hanging in his mind He applies them like a kid, picking grapes from a vine An artist will then make use of them to construct a bigger leap He will flock every words like a shepherd to his sheep’s A poet will find a way to bring life, into the story Just like King David, with his faith, re-defining his glory An artist will paint his masterpiece, reasonably truthful to his words In the same way a conductor from a train would say, “All aboard” A poet will dig even deeper, to provide you with a little bit more wit He would give you everything he has, up to whatever life permit An artist will re-invent new colors, you may yet never have even seen As if taking you to all of the same places, you thought, you’ve never been A poet can take you closer to that inner voice in you All he needs is one moment, to make all your dreams come true An artist will go as far as to guide you, to that sacred journey inside Like how Jesus saved us from sin, the moment He was crucified By:Wilbert Evangelista Dela Cruz

Copyright © Wilbert Dela Cruz

Details | Light Poetry | |

mad perfect

You don't belong in my circus

You do not possess the correct
Madness in your circuits

I've gone mad searching
For a higher purpose

I'm feeling better
Now that I'm closer to perfect

Copyright © Sebastian Aaron Baez