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Religious Tribute Poems | Religious Poems About Tribute

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

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Details | Terza Rima | |

- Peace, Love, and Gods Greatest Gift -




The mellifluous musical tones of the village bells

Echoing chimes over the cold snowcapped mountains

Both finding their way to people in the valley below

Christmas songs — let your spirit sing freely and loudly

Welcoming the Birth of Our Savior and Baby King

Who so charms the Angels on High and God Himself

On this night, The Star was so beautiful, clear, and shiny

Crisp and so crystal-bright, centered above and beyond

Reflecting now the Lord God’s most divine and holy light

There is real magic in the night air as Heaven rejoices aloud

The child and the infant’s divine soul breathe life now intently

Fulfilling truly God’s very promise and His hope to Mankind

Keep this Christmas spirit — share it with others near and far

Grace filled with good tidings as we dance on wings of joy

We all now celebrate in great happiness, love, and kindness

Christmas is forever — and you must never ever close this door

Faith always enters, carrying His guiding torch high and proud

And encouraging Man every step of the way on his long journey

Even in a simple cradle where the Baby Jesus so innocently lay

Heaven doth bathe His cradle with the warmest rays of divine light

Bespeaking the heavenly beauty, joy, and wonder of Our Savior

Amazing peace makes a lovely gift, I wish for all of us to have

As new life blossoms, wrapped in petals of an immaculate heart

God’s holy blessing, love, and intention are clear for all to see

That Holy Night the Angels entire sang mirthfully on Christmas Eve

Praising Almighty Lord God in Heaven on the birth of His only son

The Angels’ paeans echoed in their divine beauty across the Universe

To bring peace now, glowing with your love, is His divine intention

Rejoicing in God’s Greatest Gift to Mankind who was born in a manger

Destined to become Our Most Holy and Divine Savior — Amen! Amen!






Anne-Lise Andresen, Liam McDaid, and Gary Bateman
A Collaborated Poem, Copyright © All Rights Reserved
December 1, 2015 (Unrhymed Tercet)

Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2015

Details | Terza Rima | |

Peace, Love, and God's Greatest Gift

Peace, Love, and God’s Greatest Gift

The mellifluous musical tones of the village bells
Echoing chimes over the cold snowcapped mountains
Both finding their way to people in the valley below

Christmas songs—let your spirit sing freely and loudly
Welcoming the Birth of Our Savior and Baby King
Who so charms the Angels on High and God Himself

On this night, The Star was so beautiful, clear, and shiny
Crisp and so crystal-bright, centered above and beyond
Reflecting now the Lord God’s most divine and holy light

There is real magic in the night air as Heaven rejoices aloud
The child and the infant’s divine soul breathe life now intently
Fulfilling truly God’s very promise and His hope to Mankind 

Keep this Christmas spirit—share it with others near and far
Grace filled with good tidings as we dance on wings of joy
We all now celebrate in great happiness, love, and kindness

Christmas is forever—and you must never ever close this door
Faith always enters, carrying His guiding torch high and proud
And encouraging Man every step of the way on his long journey

Even in a simple cradle where the Baby Jesus so innocently lay
Heaven doth bathe His cradle with the warmest rays of divine light
Bespeaking the heavenly beauty, joy, and wonder of Our Savior

Amazing peace makes a lovely gift, I wish for all of us to have
As new life blossoms, wrapped in petals of an immaculate heart
God’s holy blessing, love, and intention are clear for all to see 

That Holy Night the Angels entire sang mirthfully on Christmas Eve
Praising Almighty Lord God in Heaven on the birth of His only son
The Angels’ paeans echoed in their divine beauty across the Universe 

To bring peace now, glowing with your love, is His divine intention 
Rejoicing in God’s Greatest Gift to Mankind who was born in a manger
Destined to become Our Most Holy and Divine Savior—Amen! Amen!

Anne-Lise Andresen, Liam McDaid, and Gary Bateman
A Collaborated Poem, Copyright © All Rights Reserved
December 1, 2015 (Unrhymed Tercet)

Copyright © Gary Bateman | Year Posted 2015

Details | Pastoral | |

THE LIFE OF JESUS CHRIST LORD

In Galilee, his voice was heard.
In Nazareth, he rested his spirit.
Cana is where he was first miraculous.
In Galilee, the crowds were like a flock of sheep.
But his crucifixion in Judea defeated their image.
My beloved Jesus knew his faith.
At the last supper, he told his disciples about his last days.

Oh Lord of greatness
How they hung you on the cross
Arms stretched to the limit
Not mindful (of it) at all.
The people of Galilee embraced your ministry.
In Judea, they crowded to witness your crucifixion.
Your mother cried out but
She knew that you were seeking your crown.
In Heaven, you reside.

You were raised from the dead.
Lord Jesus, you will meet your disciples once again.
Your resurrection was angelical.
An angel appeared to your disciples.
They were informed of your forgoing.
In Galilee, as promised, they would see you once more.

The prophecy of the birth of Christ is destiny that forfeited his life.
_________________________________________________________
Penned March 20, 2015!

Copyright © Verlena S. Walker | Year Posted 2015

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 night,
Pal quietly passed away.

Bob held Pal in his arms and wept.
“Oh, Pal…you’re the best friend in my life.” 
Bob talked to Pal, caressed him until he fell asleep;
Then, sometime in the night, Bob finally joined his wife.

The next morning, an old woman,
Tears welling in her sad and lonely eyes,
Brought 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.  “I had a dog when I was young...
a good one too.  His name was Pal.”

Copyright © Robert Candler | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

ISIS

She's the first image of God
the Alpha    the Omega
the beginning   NO end
the highest evolution of God
God sent
the Black woman is God
nappy   nappy
the master
the servant
still happy  happy
the first image of God
strength that cannot be broken
soul that cannot be bought with a
silver or gold token
YES! 
she’s the first image of God
Mother of the rainbow children
Lucy    Auset   Isis    Virgin Mary
I know  
sounds scary   scary
the Black woman is God
skin as brown as dirt 
divine flower sprung from the earth
she’s the first image of God
Original descender
return of Christ
Nibiru ascender
the universal womb of God
divine womb   divine wombman
holding the knowledge of God
the Black woman is the mystery of God
 Isis   Genesis 
genealogy of God

Copyright © Nailah Baniti | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse | |

LOVE

Loyalty
One self
Virtuous
Eternity

Copyright © Amy Rose | Year Posted 2013

Details | Epitaph | |

Grandfather

Here lies the best Grandfather,
One who was very considerate.
Remembering him as a child,
I would sit on his lap.
He was a rare person indeed.
He was a colonel in the Army.
Also superlative of a gentelman.
Here lies the best grandfather,
May he rest in peace.

Copyright © Sarah Cassleman | Year Posted 2013

Details | I do not know? | |

A Story My Mother Told Me

someone always told me this with tears in her eyes...


(for Lata Sethi's late-mother, who was my mother’s ‘sister’ and who took us all into her heart, and for Lata and Ravi Sethi of Defence Colony, New Delhi)


a wife left South Africa in the 1960’s to join her husband 
who was in exile at the time...

in 1970 the husband was sent by the African National Congress to India to be its representative there...

the husband and wife spent two years in Bombay...

one afternoon the husband fell and broke his leg...

the wife knocked on their neighbour’s door, in an apartment complex in Bombay

the neighbour was an old Punjabi lady...

the wife asked the neighbour for a doctor to see to the injured husband...

a Parsi ‘Bone-Setter’ was promptly summoned...

the husband still recalls his anxiety of seeing ‘Bone-Setter’ written on the Parsi gentleman’s bag...

by the way, the ‘Bone-Setter’ worked his ancient craft and surprisingly for the husband, his broken leg healed quite soon...

but still on that day, while the ‘Bone-Setter’ was seeing to the husband...

the wife and the old Punjabi lady from next door got to talking about this and that and where these new Indian-looking wife and husband were from as their accents were clearly not local...

the wife told the elderly Punjabi lady that the husband worked for the African National Congress of South Africa and had left to serve the ANC from exile...

and that they had left their two children behind in South Africa and that they were now essentially political refugees...

the Punjabi lady broke down and wept uncontrollably...

she told the foreign woman that she too had had to leave her home in Lahore in 1947 and flee to India with only the clothes on her back when the partition of the subcontinent took place and Pakistan was formed and at a time when Hindus from Pakistan fled to India and vice versa...

the Punjabi lady then asked the foreign woman her name...

‘Zubeida’, but you can call me ‘Zubie’...

the Punjabi woman hugged Zubie some more, and the two women, seperated by age and geography, wept, sharing a shared pain...

the Punjabi woman told Zubie that she was her ‘sister’ from that day on, and that she felt that pain of exile and forced migration and what being a refugee felt like...

Zubie and her husband Mosie became the closest of friends with the Hindu Punjabi neighbours who were kicked out of Pakistan by Muslims...

then came the time for Mosie and Zubie to leave for Delhi where the African National Congress office was based...

the elderly Punjabi lady and Mosie and Zubie said their goodbyes...

a year or two later, the elderly Punjabi lady’s daughter Lata married Ravi Sethi and the couple moved to Delhi...

the elderly Punjabi lady called Zubie and told her that her daughter was coming to Delhi to live and that she had told Lata, her daughter that she had a ‘sister’ in Delhi...

Lata and Ravi Sethi then moved to Delhi...

This was in the mid-1970’s...

Lata and Zubie became the closest of friends and that bond stayed true, and stays true till today, though Zubie is no more, and the elderly Punjabi lady is no more...

the son and the husband still have a bond with Lata and Ravi Sethi...

a bond that was forged between Hindu and Muslim and between two continents across the barriers of creed and time...

a bond strong and resilient, forged by the pain and trauma of a shared experience...

and that is why, and I shall never stop believing this, that hope shines still, for with all the talk of this and of that, and of that and of this, there will always be a simple woman, somewhere, anywhere, who would take the ‘other’ in as a sister, a fellow human...

and that is why there will always be hope...
hope in the midst of this and of that and of that and of this...

hope...


(for Lata Sethi's late-mother, who was my mother’s ‘sister’ and who took us all into her heart, and for Lata and Ravi Sethi of Defence Colony, New Delhi)

Copyright © Scribbler Of Verses | Year Posted 2013

Details | Verse | |

US in JesUS

Before we were thought of or time had started, 
God put US in His Son’s name.. 
 
And each time we pray, you'll see its true, 
You can't spell Jesus without including US.  
Were a pretty big part of His wonderful name, 
For US, He was born; 
 
And His great love for US is the reason He died. 
Isn't it thrilling and splendidly grand 
He rose from the dead, with US in His plan? 
 
The stones split away, the gold trumpet blew, egospelexpress
And His resurrection was for US.  
 
As JesUS left the earth with His wonderful ascension, 
When He felt there was one thing He just had to mention. 
 
"Go into the world and tell them it's true 
that I love them all - Just like I love you." 
 
So many people are Christian brothers and sisters, 
Don't all the others have a right to know JesUS too? 
 
It all depends on what we do, 
He'd like them all to know, 
But it all starts with US. 

Rev. Samuel Mack, OMS
Copyright   2011

VISIT US AT; http:paladinnews1.blogspot.com

Copyright © Rev. Dr. Samuel Mack | Year Posted 2011

Details | Rhyme | |

Let's Praise the Lord

Let’s praise the Lord!
All you people of the land!
Let’s praise him with every
Instrument we have on hand!

Let’s shout praises to his
wonderful name!
A message of rejoicing,
we need to proclaim!

Let’s come before him,
with love from our hearts!
This is where a victorious
life really starts!

Let’s bring him our thanks
and appreciation!
And sing of his tender mercy
and wondrous salvation!

Let’s bring him a heart filled
With hope and cheer!
The coming of the lord,
is so very near!

We bless the father, the spirit
and son!
Through the blood of Jesus,
we have overcome!


By Jim Pemberton

Copyright © Jim Pemberton | Year Posted 2013

Details | Dramatic Verse | |

The number the brand

When I met her , a very old lady she was , yet inside lay a frightened child .
I felt my heart cry , I felt as if I was touching history itself , as I made this older lady, child,  chai .

I remember the day , and so many tears I have cried
I have cried before she and I met 
As a child , so many tears, left confused inside .

Not understanding Why , and how could we stand by and live our lives as if this never happened ?

It happened , we are left in dismay of the movies seen the accounts taken of History 
My self ..I have caught stereotyping the very people whom did this to she , the rest of her Family erased .


The white candles we light , we try and forgive , or just simply block this pain out completely.

It occurs , over and over , as it has been said History will repeat .
When thinking of my children , when I think of that little girl losing ,  cold and scarred , feeling only defeat .

There is a lesson here and I pray , that all whom have been taken from life , have no pain and are gifted spirits throughout eternity . May they be warmed with love,  and reunited with the ones they lost .

The first time I met her , her old hand I took and warmed it with mine , I held it for a long time . 
You could not,  but notice ..the Evil imprinted on skin , the Evil only to remind.
This very old Soul , in her eyes you could see . 
The child that once lived , so innocently free, not aware yet,  of the Hostility .

I speak of a Little girl, I speak of a old woman , I speak of a Jewish,  chosen Religion.

There as I held her frail , old hand  , a brand , a number stamped in Evil a long time ago .   In 1945  , once in our distant, yet Frightening  past . 

We should never forget , never forget it happened , never forget all the names .
If we do , we have learned nothing , A World living in Shame .
                                " Etta Babooshka Kofman  "

Copyright © Shanity Rain | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

Life Can Be Cruel

I cannot get into heaven
God I have tried!
Suicide is a double edge sword
Especially when you survive!
Walking the streets at night
Dazed and confused
Longing to be loved
Wondering...
When is Mum, coming for me?

"Does she still love me?"
"Does she still care?"
"Does she still think of me?"
"Does she wonder, where I am?"

I want her to come find me
I want her to say she 'loves me’
I want her to comfort me
I want her to take me home
And keep me safe
And not forget hat I exist
Like the way she treats me now

I wish God 
Could make my Mum
Magically appear
Making this hellish nightmare
On the street
Disappear!

“Send my Mum please!”
So, all this can end!
Before this last ray of hope
Diminishes for good!

I don’t want to become
The walking dead
Forever forgotten as if 
I was never born!
For this is the cruel, harsh reality
Of living life, feeling unloved
Uncared for, abandoned,
Left to fend for my own

A dangerous killer inside me
Eating away, at my soul
Something, no one can see
As I suffer in silence
My insides crippling!

Lost, alone and frightened
Weeping on a dirty
Graffiti park bench
Dirty tears
Rolling down my cheeks
Stuffing newspapers under my jumper
To keep myself warm

“What am I going to do?”

“Will I make it through the night?”
“Will I get raped and beaten?”
"Will I be left for dead?”
“Will I survive
To see another day?

“Is my life worth living?”

Please God, I beg of you
Have mercy now
Please show me the way!

Copyright © Amy Rose | Year Posted 2013

Details | Haiku | |

Depths

Braving stormy seas
Lone helmsman-up to the task 
Old Leviathan 

Copyright © Richard Thistle | Year Posted 2014

Details | Quatrain | |

Safe

It's like a weight lifted off of my heart;
I am no longer torn apart.
Thank God you are safe;
Everything is okay.

Copyright © Kevin C. Martin | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme | |

Jesus Has Given So Much

What Shall I Do? For the One Who Gave So Much? What shall I do? For the one who gave so much? God reached down, and blessed me, with his touch! What shall I do? To my lord who bled and died? It was for my life, that Jesus was crucified! What shall I do? To the God who truly loves me? He has made it know that he wants to be with me! What shall I do? For the many who’ve “lost their way?” Please dear Jesus… Give me the right words to say! What shall I do? As my way of, expressing my gratitude? May God help me to have a Christ’ like attitude! What will YOU do? In this time that God’s given to you? He’s here right now! And is patiently waiting for you! What will YOU do? Will you give God a chance ? Won’t you accept his salvation? Whatever the circumstance? What Christ will do… Is to do, what he does best! Simply give him your life! He’ll take care of the rest! What Christ has done…. Is to give life everlasting! Everything you need… Is right here, for the asking! By Jim Pemberton

Copyright © Jim Pemberton | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme | |

What is God

What is God?
Is it the Power?
Or is it a man?
Could it be an Alien?
I like to think it’s a person 
But I’m probably mistaken
All the knowledge in the mind
Just makes it harder to define
I’d like to dream and go to heaven
Just to ask to see the boss there
I would ask him why the world is so troubled
He would have to admit it is a muddle
I wouldn’t trouble him with little things like the weather
Although I would ask why people have to die in earthquakes and floods
I’m sure he would understand the needs of a simple man
To want something to believe in besides religion
Religion doesn’t help they are all the same
Professing to be better than the rest is a silly game
I think I’ll get into yoga it might help me pass over to Nirvana
Then I would know all the secrets of the ages just like the sages
And I could share it with everyone and say it was from above
But people would probably laugh at me for telling them to love
So I will just tell you my friend I’m sure you’ll understand
Simply love, that’s all
And now I’ll go to bed
I think it’s for the best and I do need the rest.
Good night.


Copyright © Colin James Platt | Year Posted 2014

Details | Limerick | |

THEO-OLIGARCHIC HAPPENINGS IN SLOVENIA


URAN'S WILLY

Taking sides in discussions holily
About whether Uran used his willy
Means you're trapped in their game -
Either side is the same:
Cock distracts, cash departs, crowd stays silly.



Story:
http://www.sloveniatimes.com/scandals-in-the-slovenian-church-to-go-on


The National Poet Of Slovenia In A Language People Understand interprets important Slovenian affairs for the non-Slovene speaking world. 


www.maria.si

Copyright © Julian Bohan | Year Posted 2013

Details | Sonnet | |

Sonnet to the Christ

That the brilliance of His majestic ways
and fire that burns from His white-hot eyes
give light to space of infinite, vast size 
and shine on martyr’s endless lift and praise;
that the grace He shows them endures and stays
in them and keeps and seals their lips from lies
for hearts and minds to remain pure and wise
and give His Word divine, angelic raise;
that the millennial Kingdom's earthly time
arrives after end times' brief, labor pangs
and saves God's children from sin's filthy grime,
so they who were tempted by Satan's gangs
will live on in glory and in their prime
once Christ defangs the Serpent's deadly fangs!

Copyright © Ngoc Nguyen | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

Gift Of Mortality

An earthly existence
A universe beyond my minds, comprehension
I die
I rise
Life lessons reviewed
Homeward bound
I am not lost, after all!
I am a willing participant
Serving, the Father, of all creation
His son combined, ‘producing life’ as we know it
Representing them, in everything I do
I am nothing, without Love!
My heart full of faith, loyal service I give
Learning how to unconditionally serve, as the Father unconditionally, loves me
Worshipping our Divine Creator’s existence
Choosing to live, moment to moment
Being as one with ‘Our Universal Father’
No physical permanency
My physicality, disappearing
My mortality existence, I let go of
Death temporary
My spirit alive!
Relief, Peace
‘I am only passing through!’
A unique, experience of mortality 
A gift, I am blessed to experience, to live!

Copyright © Amy Rose | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme | |

Thanks For My Wonderful Wife


I remember the first time I
 and my wife first met.
The beauty in her...  I'll never forget!

I won't forget the day 
and the place.
I'll never forget the look
 on her face.

The feeling I had was
 hard to describe.
I knew she was going to be my bride!

I'm thankful to Jesus for 
bringing us together.
Binding us as one... 
Both now and forever!

Twenty years have passed...
 since our wedding day.
She's still my beautiful wife!  
I'm proud to say!

Thanks be to God,
 for making us one.
I pray for his blessings upon
 our daughters and sons.

May God be the unifying 
love in all that we do.
May we never forget the meaning of...
 "I love YOU!"

Each day I look at her... 
what do I see?
This wonderful wife God
 has brought to me!

I'm thankful and honored
 to have her as my wife.
She's been such a blessing...  
A great part of my life!

By Jim Pemberton 


Copyright © Jim Pemberton | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme | |

God's Grace

The blue waters,
The green trees,
The blue skies,
The light breeze,
The crisp air,
The birds sing,
The puffed clouds;
The awakening.

Copyright © Kevin C. Martin | Year Posted 2013

Details | Romanticism | |

Prime Mover

Like the seraphs whose wings unfold,
Christ's light and glory goes not untold;
as the love of his humble grace
moves inside me all time and space,

as the planets orbit heaven's sun
and encircle it one by one--
so, too, am I caught in his sway,
beloved of him from day to day.

Through hosts of astral dimension
God's angels fix their attention
with expectancy and burning pause
around the universe's First Cause.

He, the one true Incarnation  
that begets cosmic causation,
resolves the Infinite Regress
from the pre-Socratics' egress

with his omniscient wisdom
and the archives of his kingdom
where all can come and read and know
what miracles he'll yet bestow.

Copyright © Ngoc Nguyen | Year Posted 2013

Details | I do not know? | |

The Cowardice of the Taliban and The Silence of The Good Muslims

The Cowardice of the Taliban and The Silence of The Good Muslims.


When hot lead tears the flesh of a 14 year old girl,

ripping through her skull,
leaving her to bleed out and die,

does Allah not recoil in horror,

to see His child whimper,
to see His daughter cry.

Where is the indignation,

the anger that often boils over and manifests itself as flags and books and videos are burnt in mass orgies of hollow piety,

where are the voices that scream so loud,
that denounce all but their own creed,

where are the men, the impotent men who crave for nothing more than their fascist egos to feed,

where are the voices that so loudly proclaim,
enemies here and enemies there, always quick to condemn,

where are those voices when the enemy walks amongst them.

14 year old Malala Yousafzai was shot in cold blood,

her crime?

Advocating the rights of girls to an education.

Shame on you, men of bigotry and men of cowardice.

Shame on you, silent and mute accomplices in this carnage.

Shame on me,
for my inaction,

Shame on us all,
who proclaim lofty ideals,

yet are conspicuously silent,

when a 14 year old girl is shot in the head,

by fascist fundamentalist bigots who only worship bullets of hot lead.

Not in my name!

Not in my name,
shall the cowardly men rain down abuse,

Not in my name,
shall the bigoted men light the communalistic fuse,

Not in my name,
shall Malala Yousafzai be shot in the head,

left to bleed out,
while countless mothers' tears are shed,

not in my name,
shall religious murderers,
be left to wander free,

not in my name,
for I dare all believers to open their eyes,
to see!

To see,
the innocence of a 14 year old girl,
wanting only an education,

as the men of the cloth,
prance around with their pathetic self-righteous indignation.

I write this today,
the anger raging in my veins,

yet I fear,

that I shall write more of this,

unless we stand up and say 'no more',

I fear that I shall be writing this again,

until we all,

reclaim the true principles of humaneness,

until we silence the voices of bigotry,
of rage,
of fanatical insanity,

I fear I shall be writing this again,

and,

until the muck-ridden bile,
is not excised,

I shall continue to say,

NOT IN MY NAME!

Or else I shall have nothing,

but my unending shame.



(for Malala Yousafzai, 14 years old, in a critical condition after being shot in the head by the Pakistani Taliban, for her work as a young activist advocating the rights of girls to attend school)

Copyright © Scribbler Of Verses | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme | |

Christ Stepped Down From His Heavenly Throne

Christ Stepped Down From His Heavenly Throne! Christ stepped down, from his heavenly throne. He came to earth… For 33 years, he called it his home! His mission had one purpose and desire in mind! He was to one day, be a sacrifice for mankind! He taught and gave us his words, powerfully spoken! He knew that one day, his body would be broken! He desired that all, would one day, come to know him! Because of his resurrection, all can receive him! He’s alive today! And reigns from heaven above! And desires to touch us, with his endless love! Won’t you humbly come, and accept what he’s given? And experience the power, of being forgiven! This can be your moment! This can be YOUR day! He loves you much more, than words can say! All honor and praise, to Christ Jesus, our king! You are our righteousness! Our everything! By Jim Pemberton

Copyright © Jim Pemberton | Year Posted 2013

Details | Quatrain | |

Sandy Hook

Today, it just doesn't seem fair
That we are still able to breathe.
They have given us their air-
Our duty to lead the life they leave.

Copyright © Kevin C. Martin | Year Posted 2012

Details | Rhyme | |

All I Need Is You

I don't need any money,
I don't need fancy shoes.
I don't need to buy happiness, 
'Cause all I need is You.

I don't need expensive clothes,
I don't need things to choose.
I don't need five-star meals,
'Cause all I need is You.

I'm smiling here so wide;
I feel like I'm brand new.
Today is the start of something big
'Cause all I need is You.

My soul is eternally fulfilled;
My heart is being led through.
I don't need anything else,
'Cause all I need is You.

Copyright © Kevin C. Martin | Year Posted 2013

Details | I do not know? | |

MLK - 1929 - 1968

MLK...
(January 15, 1929 – April 4, 1968)


they shot you down
all those years ago

but

your dream lives on
and always will

for though much has been
gained since you dreamed
your dream

there is much to fight for
and much more to struggle for

and much, much more
to fight for still

so
your dream resounds in
our hearts and we pledge 
this to you today
for though they shot you down
all those years ago on a memphis day
we shall overcome
this we do believe
deep in our hearts
that
we shall overcome
someday...


(for Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.)

Copyright © Scribbler Of Verses | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

That's Where The Lord Lives

I walk outside to see all that I can see.
Over there is our house, our home,
In the distance, you can see.
And that place of hallowed happiness
Forever has been our home
And forever will be so evermore.
That house is small but raised us tall,
From the perfect parents who loved us so
To the perfect sister for which every man would want.
The house built us all up strong.
More than a mere building,
It is a place to love and be loved,
A place that hands you hope that you give right back, 
And a place of everlasting faith.
This home is where my parents taught me about God
And opened me up to Jesus.
They opened the eyes of the blind for all to see,
And the blind included me.
They taught me to be the best I can be;
The best things in life are free.
They have taught us so well,
And they all have saved my soul.
Even if I am not there now,
I carry Him with me.
I carry them with me.
I carry Their values and Their teachings with me.
In this house, this home,
We reside.
We cannot forget this.
This is where my Mother lives.
This is where my Father lives.
This is where my Sister lives.
This is where We live,
In this loving, caring, beautiful home
They made just for us.
We cannot forget this either.
This is where it all began. 
This is where the hunger and thirst was created;
This is where we are fulfilled.
We cannot, we must not forget this:
This is where God lives.
This is where Jesus lives.
This is where The Lord lives;
The Father and The Almighty.
This is where We live;
This is where We reside.
We must not forget this.
We must not forget this:
What a beautiful and perfect life this is.

Copyright © Kevin C. Martin | 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 | Rhyme | |

Humble

I give my word a breath of life
and those who give me strife
I willingly do what needs to be done
and do not wish to be won
I smile a smile that lights up any face
and hope to never disgrace
I do what I am taught to do
and that my help would be true
I clam my words together
and hope times will never weather
I do have some faith in all matters
and things to reach with ladders
I hope for many things in heart
and I cherish everyone that is part 
I do know one thing is set
and with my life I would bet
I will hold true to my words
and make my world good towards

Copyright © Reynaldo Mast | Year Posted 2013