Prose Poetry Forgiveness Poems | Prose Poetry Poems About Forgiveness

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Details | Prose Poetry |

My blessing, your curse

Where else do you want to mock me? That my Sister is a Whore? And she owns miserable men under her Lure? Or is it that I have intense body Odour? Maybe you will taunt the clothes I once wore which you already tore. So, what else is it? That I snore? Or that a drunkard is my Family's Core? Is there anything more? Or something laughable you really saw? Perhaps, you just realize I'm poor? Please anymore flaw? If you're bitter, it isn't my fault don't use me as the Salt on your wounds. I know, I stimulate the stretching of your Catapult and my smile makes you want to join a Cult Even with the Insult, never forget that I'm mere Human who can halt; despite not giving a damn just to make you understand that I'm simply a friend.

Copyright © Funom Makama | Year Posted 2012


Details | Prose Poetry |

Remember Me Like this

Remember me (like this)… A smile that made your heart Feel lighter A word that made your Day brighter An embrace you only wanted To be tighter Please remember me… Like this Forget the frowns Forget the pouts Forget the downs The angry bouts Forget the times I wasn’t there Forgive me for that Frigid stare and… Remember me like this… A hug whenever you Needed one A back rub… late at night A place to go to When you felt so low A touch that felt So right Remember me… The provider for the family Companion always there Old friend and confidante Cuddly Teddy bear Gentle soul with good intentions A moral man who could not lie Humble man with no pretensions A man you can’t forget, even if you try A stubborn man…I’ll give you this A simple man…tho’ a bit remiss A man always ready with a tender kiss So when, (and if…) you reminisce Please remember me …Like this…

Copyright © David Whalen O Haolin in ancient Celtic | Year Posted 2014

Details | Prose Poetry |

A Perfect Love

I never claimed to be perfect,
and yet she wished it so.

An unspoken promise
to which I never agreed;

And now she knows
that unrequited part of me
that took a lifetime to overcome;

And now she sees
with eyes wide open
that I chose to return;

An unspoken promise to her,
now realized:

I never claimed to be perfect,
and now she knows it’s true.

Copyright © Jacob Welch | Year Posted 2015


Details | Prose Poetry |

GOD WE BLAME YOU

GOD we blame you for the evil that we do. Why don't you keep coming to our rescue? Just wipe it all away, make everything new so the crazy and foolish things we can continue to do, then maybe, we will believe in you.

You see, we are highly intelligent we think we know better than you so when you hear us croon we want you to dance to our toon, now we may sound like buffoons but GOD we want you to make life a cartoon. Thence no consequence.

Even as children we have learned if you play with fire you will get burned and if you do dirt a lot of people could get hurt. But your laws are old from so long ago where it also say you shall reap what you sow and your old laws we want to overthrow.

Yes GOD, we are very smart we just refuse to understand that you made life real and not wonderland, which is why we say a woman can marry a woman and a man a man. If you get that sensation then it's aspiration, to us it's a good relation but you call it an abomination. That we won't even mention cause we pay it no attention.

Because we want our livelihood, to live like Hollywood, even if it's falsehood we still want you to make it all good. So your laws we want to change or rearange. We love to shake our groove thing, to make life a game where nothing matters but fortune and fame.

Therefore, we want to be players coz we love to play, the problem is it puts us on ground of very soft clay. Although it feels on solid ground we stand, it keeps turning into quicksand. As we are going down wearing an ugly frown, bidding ourselves adieu, we blame you.

Now GOD if to our every whim you would cater then we would stop being traitors and haters but only if you be our personal waiter. Since your consequences can be brutal and trying to change your laws is futile then we are highly disturbed so we'll have to kick you to the curd. 

We don't care about the preachers broadcasting, that you and your Word are from Everlasting to Everlasting. Furthermore, if you are The Father and The Master why would you let people go through such horrible disasters, while letting children die of cancer.

Knowing very well we're looking directly at the answer. For we know it's a crime, a shame and a disgrace when they let children play on land full of buried toxic waste. They know it's there they just don't care because they are in the land of milk and honey, so they do it in the name of power, fame, fortune, Greed, MONEY.

And they don't fret because they know the people are not a threat. As we turn our heads, twittle our thumbs, act dumb and even get numb and expecting a good outcome. While the bigwigs keep snapping people like twigs and using the public as guinea pigs. As they poison the air, the land, the water and the food too, yet GOD we blame you for the hellish and heinous things we do.

I remember hearing my father holler, gather around and hear me sing, this is my castle and I am the king. No one would open their mouth because there was no way we could tell our father how to run his house. You are our Heavenly Father and The Creator , we want to be the dictators and you our personal waiter, snap our finger and you're the operator.

Its all Vanity and what is the meaning of INSANITY?

Copyright © Milton Robertson | Year Posted 2016

Details | Prose Poetry |

And Then I Pray

You came into my life, why? I didn’t invite you, I never wanted you around, you 
know this , but you will not leave, you don’t know how much I hate you, and yet I 
don’t hate anyone or anything. When you hate, to me, it is the same as killing. If I 
only knew how to kill you ……. It would have been done many times over. I awake 
every morning and there you are, ready to make my life miserable, the one thing 
you enjoy most in your life. Wherever I go, you follow bringing your misery into my 
life. Why cant you just leave and leave me in peace? I fight with you every day, and 
it hurts so much, so much it hurts to fight with anyone, even you. There is one 
way and only one way to rid you of me. I think of this often, but then where would I 
be? I would not be, because you are part of me, your name is bi-polar. Handed 
down from my father and from his father, and from me to my son, but he refuses 
to recognize you, so he fights you without help he could get. If he would only say I 
know who you are. I hurt for him everyday, and then I pray.
Oh God please forgive me for what I have brought upon my son. Son, I love you, 
and am so sorry for what you go through. Maybe someday we will talk again. Dad

Copyright © Kenneth Fordham | Year Posted 2008

Details | Prose Poetry |

7 Gifts of the Holy Spirit Prayer

Lord God,
Stretch our mind/s with deep understanding of Wisdom
To obtain positive understanding with every complications
Counsel us with guidelines in our work

Give us Fortitude, strength, Patience and Tolerance to finish in peace successfully
Deliver knowledge in our mind/s
For us to receive Piety, goodness and devoutness to get satisfaction
With Holy Fear of the Lord-God, I/we ask in the name of Father Christ Jesus to be with us now and forever.

Amen 
09122012

People can change the “our” to “their”, “him” or “his” when praying for others.

Copyright © Jacqueline R. Mendoza | Year Posted 2012

Details | Prose Poetry |

DRUNK AND IGNORANT

A noble story one that ought to be our good host laughed and swore the games begun. Come match the knights tale if you can sir monk. To bellow arms and blood and bones he swore. A noble one I'll pay off the knights tale lets do this right. You tell yours by and by either I'll speak or go on my own way. Everyone listen but first i will propound that i am drunk i know it by my sound. For I'll tell a golden legend and a lie. Forget your ignorant drunken bawdiness it is a sin and great foolishness. Tell us of other things you'll find to lack i see you are angry with my tale but why. cuz you are a fool your head is overpowered by the wine. If you are not enjoying yourselves then cut off my head but as i drink my wine and ale. Whoever won't accept what i decide will pay for everything we spend along the ride. So hold up your hand if you accept my speech reflect a little and don't hold me to blame if you choose wrong don't lay it on my head. And both of them had bawdy tales to tell theirs no sense making earnest out of game.

Copyright © craig schaber | Year Posted 2011

Details | Prose Poetry |

All About A Red Saturday

At last time has brought me to this day yet again on another Saturday night things forever will end sweet flowers with petals in need For me it is nothing more than a day my life will begin the pain I feel will forever remain yet to others it is merely a Saturday Here I stand at the path of yesterday and today for tomorrow there will be nothing more to say in so many demanding ways I thank God it is Saturday The last day in a week seen as play but as for me it is such a lonesome day tomorrow is day number one the day life begins has yet begun Peace floods me in my solace this day knowing it is final, done, ended, this 5th day in May the day I was finally told to give up and walk away I am no longer trapped by my fears or waiting for he to cause me pain I am the one who won on this Saturday At last I do not care to be played or hurt to the extreme, a lovers old tired game I want to thank you for moving on to another's sweet way This will forever be known as Red's blessed Saturday and with this release back into the wild game I find my heart pure for those locked deeply away thank you for letting me be and not trying to keep hurting me SATURDAY is officially my lucky day! enjoy the date that you made, love her deeply, cherish her face for I will forever remain ever-so grateful for this Saturday To you both I thank you, and send a prayer of passionate love your way! At last I can be happy all because of one Saturday in May! To me a new anniversary I have now made, with God's amazing grace.

Copyright © Danielle Wise Baxter | Year Posted 2012

Details | Prose Poetry |

One On One

One On One…

A peculiar similarity between 
you and me;
I born a slave being;
you , seemingly free.

My father toiled in bondage;
yours to serve and protect the same;
mine lived and died in disguised rage;
yours lived and died in unfretted—denied shame.

Strange fruits of the same human tree
are you and me.  We
searching the blood soaked rooted key
the door to set us free.

Reciprocity can be a raging bitch.
I refuse to be a wretched witch.

Copyright © millard lowe | Year Posted 2016

Details | Prose Poetry |

Guilt's Insistence

Guilt’s Insistence
                   by Odin Roark

One’s perception 
Often lingers amidst stench and flames
Where personal battles fought
Leave only wounds unhealed

Unsettling dust
And billowing spirits 
Weave through porous walls
Embedded with crustaceous regret

Such battered pasts
Remain painful
Awaiting our will to cast aside
Our self-imposed eclipse

And often…

Duration too can tire
Rendering time’s horizon
To drift from consciousness
Becoming but faded memory
Leaving one shackled
With guilt’s insistence

Copyright © Odin Roark | Year Posted 2014

Details | Prose Poetry |

Take Off the Mask and Be Yourself

Take off the mask and be yourself:
Be honest; be true and strong.
Stop trying so hard to fit in a crowd where you really don't belong.

Don't side-step your calling
To HIM, you should only remain true
Don't push HIM aside because you need HIM as Guide in all that you think, say 
and do.

He is the only One who does possess the Power to the success you are looking 
for.

So take off the mask; simply be yourself; accept His plans for you.
Rekindle His Love through repentance, prayer and faith within your heart-
And true success will scoop you up and elevate you high;
And wealth will be yours unendlessly with love; with  peace you can not deny.

Copyright © Martha Malloy | Year Posted 2008

Details | Prose Poetry |

Woven in Silk Threads of Love


Woven in Silk Threads of Love
(Apropos Us and the Children)

Time tested love, bruised
and battered,
lay like littered crystals
on the steel plate stage of life;
dismembered and crumbled
like a stale cookie
whose particles 
have lost
their electromagnetic-like
attractiveness.

Ingredients of envious spice
inhibits any and all adhesiveness—
that tough threading  love folds and kneads.

Yet, the sprinkling of forgiveness
knits and weaves the web 
of diverse unity of understanding—
                          cocooning new beginnings:

Indeed, the most fragile butterfly wings
have endured—soared in monarch majesty—
defying time tested, treacherous winds
that the teeming silk of love forever spins.

Yes, to err is human; to forgive divine;
may eternal blessings forever twine
this tender love of yours and mine.

Copyright © millard lowe | Year Posted 2016

Details | Prose Poetry |

To Touch The Heart

                                                       To Touch The Heart

                                           I to feel and gain respect from love,
                                           But knowing that your lover is much fond of,
                                           That warmth and caring that love gives,
                                           From feelings shared and now love lives.
                                          
                                           But that of life's little minutes one can see,
                                           A picture of perfection and reality.
                                           Surrounded with love's handy touch,
                                           And that glitter from feelings felt so much.

                                           But with much beauty from loves shame,
                                           One noticing that hate has lost this game.
                                           And now tell me of how to feel from pain,
                                           When my heart touches your name..

Copyright © Michael S. Johnson | Year Posted 2014

Details | Prose Poetry |

YESTERDAY HAS GONE BY

I believe that yesternight has gone by,
And this is another day, 
A brand new day,
A very beautiful one.

All I could see is the rising of the sun,
with its beauty and energy,
Ready to beautify, 
And illuminate this day. 

All I wish is to be like this sun unto you,
lighten up your angelic face to a lovely smile,
And a source of encouragement to launch you, 
Higher unto greater achievement.

Copyright © Joshua Akinwande | Year Posted 2012

Details | Prose Poetry |

More Than

More scared than faith 
heaven can wait.
Goosebumps more
 than Braille
Every tale of less than
proves we're blinded
by more than
socio-economic design
when we recite 
Jay's on my feet
and quit school 
cause of Shakespeare.
Certain that orbits 
eventually falter;
the course we're 
meant for
sometimes alters
Brimstone and sin
is where confusion 
 begins.
Took awhile, but
love seeped in
Peace came and went
left us spent albeit 
understanding
how fear was maiming.
One drop sent
a chilly ripple
through limps
we thought were there,
so when we stepped out
on faith, 
a nurse kept us
from falling 
on our faces.
We're recovering
from PTSD and
every acronym.
More embarrassed 
than anything 
to foolish to say
a thing.
Pride vs. bravado 
hearts more or less hollow 
A father's tail
a child bound to follow
Hallowed be thy name
A boy swallows 
as if standing on top a
skyscraper ledge. 
Taking a step
the crowd at Ground
Zero, gasps and says, "NO."
Hands up lifted
momentum shifted
More fall than wind
more fear let in,
Wings outstretched 
Catch air and raises 
No fear, just  praises.
Love starts falling 
Uncovering a calling 
more electric 
than lighting. 
Frightening 
what appears, 
when pen
is uninhibited
and flirts
around her name







Copyright © TS Lewis | Year Posted 2015

Details | Prose Poetry |

sober

                                            s o b e r...
The fuse burns the skin; 'till years disappear in the sear. Those scars allow us to be who we are - - - urging us to bleed truth- - -  so we can speed through the blues----- fueling us with the go, the giddy up to show, with each blow we grow,---and we Leggo our Ego -------just so the doubters we encounter shout louder and louder--- tho' they ain't got a clue as to who... or what we're about, or the journey of pain ballooning our veins with insane clout-------- and we wish upon a trouble free time to be near, yet it's far...- - - like the stars in the sky----...---sobering the view...while we drink the abuse------Still, the lit fuse burns the years till our fears cry.-____so hopefully, we learn from the scars when our tears dry.

Copyright © JSLambert Mister ROBOTO | Year Posted 2012

Details | Prose Poetry |

The color of love

Without him beside me, my future seems so bleak, being naïve, 
i was told he was not meant for me. Ignoring this world of cruelty
and its power tear our world apart. Now sitting i ponder why I being so naïve from the very start

My tomorrow will never come, for I will forever live in his yesterday. Turning my back on the one who loved me in every single way.
Not even time can heal a shattered heart, but I guess somewhere in his heart he loved me after all

Many times I’ve dreamt of him and unable to hide my tears,
As I reminisce that sad day I decide we go our separate ways,
I pinch myself, as in a dream, knowing it is not true,
How could I let go of such a man, no woman would ever do.

I remember the look in his eyes when he dropped by and found my note. Pain crippled on his face leaving such a heart in pain, as he read along “My heart is with you but I will forever be alone, never will you and I share a place of our own. Rejected by all to cross the color line thinking my love is blind".

 If again such a love should come my way, I’d break free of those dark days I’d confess my true heart and reject the rest and  break through this racial barrier and fallow my lovers path wherever he lead to ease this heart that beat to grieve.

Copyright © kelleyana junique | Year Posted 2011

Details | Prose Poetry |

Over the Middle Passage of Time




Over the Middle Passage of Time
(Apropos of Trials and Triumphs)

In the crypt of the ocean’s deep
Lay ivory bones
Of screaming ebony souls
Drowned in due seasoned journeys
Across middle passage sojourns
Of pilgrim’s progress
Yoking labor in the wrinkles of the earth
From the fresh dawn to the tired dust thereof:
Nothing fertilizes like wet sweat and dried blood.

When the instructive tongues of ancestors 
Tap at the door of attentive ears
Spirits scale skyscraper yearnings of home
Parachuting shackles of mind and body
Drifting in earthy fields of rusty ways;
No, the last supper will not be here.

The lit torch illuminates the new summons;
The passage of time forgives but never forgets;
The Supreme Master of the Universe spills His cup
Into the Saucer of which we now sip:
Because of His amazing grace, we shall not
Sup the tainted bastard blue blood of disgrace.

Copyright © millard lowe | Year Posted 2016

Details | Prose Poetry |

Nineteen fable

 Nineteen fable 
Nineteen fable 
 
MUSICK NONnude Review 
 
 
CHarlaxFabels 
 
Grand Funk Railroad was a fave group of mine the best time eye ever had was in 
a house on a rug listening to this song of hard rock and rhinocerous thumps. 
Wait. FOGHAT was the best for sex but lucky mee was never a Catholic. The 
Horns blew for Chicago and there was lots of other groups to make this fable 
bleed there was the Creedence Clearwater Revival so cool so wonderful a thing. 
John Fogarty sure must have been a saint. Eye wish he had not got so mad and 
left the other members of his group. But Creedence Song became a new fave 
thing. 
Daddy had a band 
Played him a little guitar 
Traveled in a van 
Livin' that rock and roll 
Night after night 
People comin' up to the bandstand 
Say you can't go wrong 
If you play a little bit of that 
Creedence song 

It was late one night 
Cruisin' on down the interstate 
Stopped into a diner 
To get him some chili and fries 
Heard the waitress tell a guy 
Standin' over by the jukebox 
Hey you can't go wrong 
If you play a little bit of that 
Creedence song 

Well daddy took a shine 
To the lil' girl behind the counter 
She movin' her hips to the swamp beat 
Right on time 
Said could he play her somethin' 
Over there on the jukebox 
She said you can't wrong 
If you play a little bit of that 
Creedence song 

Daddy had a plan 
He asked that girl to marry 
With a brand new wife 
They're livin' on rock and roll 
Night after night 
She whispers oh so sweetly 
Hey you can't go wrong 
If you play a little bit of that 
Creedence song 



Copyright © charles hice | Year Posted 2008

Details | Prose Poetry |

Time Heals All Wounds, But It Doesn't Rid The Scars

Faith lost, love failed All because of what's unveiled. And in this pain I have been jailed. It was not you, it was all me And no one else will ever see How these things all came to be But now it's lost, now it's gone I watch the sky for signs of dawn Yet I never played you as my pawn. I hid in dark, I hid in lies I kept it all from dark brown eyes I now await for harsh goodbyes. No one will see, no one will hear The reasons I held these secrets dear Yet visions' still blurred by means of tears I watched you rise, I watched you grow And that's why you did not know The deceit I had yet to show. It was your laugh, it was your smile That kept me quiet all the while Trudging every single mile You own my soul, you own my heart I can not bear for us to part Let me help the healing start I am a human, I am a girl And mistakes come about and whirl Causing rivers of silver pearls You do not believe, you do not trust This healing process is a must The reliance will rise up from the dust It will take long, it will take time And many, many clocks will chime Until our love's back in it's prime I love you now, I love you forever Please let us spend it all together I want to part not now, not ever.

Copyright © Erika Raiken | Year Posted 2011

Details | Prose Poetry |

The Punctuation Factor

This is a result of text messaging. You have forgotten; how...; to punctuate. It affects you. This affects me. This effects all of us. Misplaced kindness masked by hate; lost in a text. There's no self expression. It makes me sick. No accents! No real emotion! Only your own interpretation, which is most likely misplaced in punctuation(s); lost and in need of Google to translate. Communication without true meaning; that is the text message; these are the lives that we live. Angry from a false pretense; fabricated from interpretation, this is not real. Talking is the only way to understand; completely. It's the only way; the only way out of this virtual chaos of selfies. So picture this...; a world without insecurities; free from hidden phrases; free from misunderstanding. Freedom from sensitivity; put down your texts and flips your phone, dial a number and say; hello…; actually communicate; with REAL words! What a concept! People expressing feelings with courage…; he who texts emotion is he who lacks backbone. We are all weaklings. Seriously; we are cowards. Face to face is becoming obsolete. It's text to text nowadays. It's been fun, this texting thing. I must admit. But I see too many people scratching their heads; I myself included. Brains’ polluted from picture mail, status updates and alerts. It's driving us to the edge; berserk!

The virtual world we are in; watching porn instead of helping out a friend; looking down with your mind in the clouded cellular. Missing the action and crashing our cars. Living in a day dream; not finding new stars. What have we become? I am ashamed of myself; I'm afraid; to say the least. It's all synced. Set up for one click wonders. We are all linked. A Facebook friend request away from a twitter post away; imagery placed in the mind of the fragile…; manipulating their way into your life. Lies that we claim true; represented by role play. Like this for a TBH; date or nah? Insert smiley’s to disclaim while the 45 year old sends a dick-pic to the teenage. I shake my head. This is not an individual problem. We are all held accountable. 

Society is the collective; so place blame on ourselves. Stand up and unite. Band together and spread this message; just not through text. Use your words. Call your mother. Call a friend. Go tell it on the mountain. Sing it on the streets. People need people! We do not need mobile devices; we need to change our views. You need me because; I need you. This is all I ask: Please close your inbox and shut down your instant messenger for just one day. Call someone and take the time to listen to them. Say what you mean; and mean what you say; live life in the real world. 
Take a chance. Leave your phone at home and walk with your head held high. It's up to us to make the change, so be it. If anyone agrees with me, I urge you to reach out. Spread this message. Break free from the virtual chains that bind you. Kick it old school and the rewards will find you. Off in the distance I see something so profound; and I scratch my head in disbelief? It's a new age where people actually use their words to speak. 

-Ironic Zinc 8-26-14

Copyright © Ir0nic ZiNk | Year Posted 2016

Details | Prose Poetry |

Stolen Hearts

Cold, callus, crying, shivering,
and covered in sweat.
Wondering what has happened.
Not yet understanding this fate I’ve met.

What of a guy that stumbled around,
just trying his hardest to show he’d been found,
after all he had just been purchased
from the human pound.


That promise to you.
Man I broke it.
I told you Id stop,
and for a time I did,
but that stuff two blocks away,
my will power just wasn't work-n.
My wrist watch again broken.
Always from the look on my face,
you could tell Id been smoke-n.


You tried.
You tried so hard,
but the mind wasn’t mine.
only a shell of what used to be,
all of me you were trying to find,
and I didn’t get this till my alone time.


I was pushing.
You were pulling.
Then it all pushed you away.
It was all down hill from here,
so naturally you couldn’t stay.


I sit here so sad
for the way you must of felt.
Let alone how you dealt.
Ill never understand how I could do this to you.
You're so prefect,
even your aura dances in ambient light.
You’re the best friend I could of had,
and that leaves me really mad,
that the rest of the world
may never know what we had.

The thing is I know now,
that you loving me.
This really was Much more,
than I loving you.

~Ha,Turned around this insecurity was always mine.~

Copyright © jay o'neal | Year Posted 2011

Details | Prose Poetry |

DON'T LIE TO ME

i can tell by your smell
when its a tail
this time it fail
you can smin like wail
 and feel free
JUST
DON'T LIE TO ME

Copyright © kurtis scott aka curtis futch jr | Year Posted 2012

Details | Prose Poetry |

The Prodigal Son

Why do you choose to stoop this low?
On the streets of savages and thieves you roam.
What has affected your sense of reasoning?
When in your father’s house there’s a huge foam?

Your uncertain mobility with so much savings;
hitting rock-bottom which I wouldn’t have guessed,
you waited to go through pains, eating with pigs;
sawed by poverty before you knew you’re blessed.

Your realization is complete, please embrace good sense
come back home and let your pride pretend.
You’re still important no matter how far you’ve deviated
because your welcome celebration, even the king will attend

Copyright © Funom Makama | Year Posted 2015

Details | Prose Poetry |

Fallen from Grace

Fallen from grace, 
no longer do I sit high upon the pedestal that you had once put me 
No longer am I seen as idol or mentor
Nor wanted as provider or protector 
But now looked upon as an outcast and banished from your heart. 

Betrayed by the one who now blinds you 
With a veil of lies and deceit that weighs on your young fragile heart 
With heavy words of animosity and abhorrence
 
You have been trapped in a malevolent web of hatred and retribution 
Used as an unwitting pawn in a game of emotional chess. 

Your words of respect and adoration 
Have been replaced by venomous accusations of brutality and oppression 
Taught to you by the on who now holds the chains that bind your heart. 

But I will not be vanquished or deterred 
By these attempts to falsify or dilute my love for you 
I will be strong in my resolve and true to myself
 
I will not let these misguided asseveration's destroy my confidence 
In knowing that my spirit is pure and that one day 
You will be able to break free from your restraints 
And uncover your eyes so you can distinguish the truth from the lies. 

To understand the choices that need to be made in life 
Through your own mistakes and life experiences 

Until that day comes I shall be waiting, 
Ready to stand next to you as opposed to being on that pedestal 
And walk down a new road with you as your friend and equal.

Copyright © Thomas King | Year Posted 2014

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

Copyright © Scott Bronner | Year Posted 2013

Details | Prose Poetry |

My Unconditional Dog

First of all, it’s a big responsibility,
especially in a city like Jacksonville, or Philadelphia, or wherever really.
So think long and hard before deciding on love.
On the other hand, love gives you a sense of security:
when you’re walking down the street late at night
and you have a leash on love
ain’t no one going to mess with you.
Because crooks and muggers think love is
unpredictable.
Who knows what love could do in its own defense?
Broken glass bottles.

On cold winter nights, love is warm.
It lies between you and lives and breathes
and makes funny noises.
Love wakes you up all hours of the night with its needs.
It needs to be fed so it will grow and stay healthy.

Love doesn’t like being left alone for long.
But come home and love is always happy to see you.
It may break a few things accidentally in its passion for life,
but you can never be mad at love for long.

Is love good all the time? No! No!
Love can be bad. Bad, love, bad! Very bad love.

Love makes messes.
Love leaves you little surprises here and there.
Love needs lots of cleaning up after.
Somethimes you just want to get love fixed.
Sometimes you want to roll up a piece of newspaper
and swat love on the nose,
not so much to cause pain,
just to let love know “Don’t you ever do that again!”

Sometimes love just wants to go out for a nice long walk.
Because love loves exercise. It will run you around the block
and leave you panting, breathless. Pull you in different directions
at once, or wind itself around and around you
until you’re all wound up and you cannot move.

But love makes you meet people wherever you go.
People who have nothing in common but love
stop and talk to each other on the street.

Throw things away and love will bring them back,
again, and again, and again.
But most of all, love needs love, lots of it.
And in return, love loves you and never stops.

Copyright © Spenser Jones | Year Posted 2012

Details | Prose Poetry |

Introducing Me


Who am I really? Who does everyone think I am,                                            and what do they think I’m really like?                                                                 Do I even know?  Stay tunnnnned.

I was a newborn in ‘49 in a home within a mile of Highway 49
There was no doctor; but a midwife arrived on time, nice and kind.
My weight was 10 lbs.; and I have reached 165 in 66 years of time.

I didn’t go astray; and I’ve done my best to walk the narrow line.
Old people said, “Be good so you don’t go where the sun don’t shine.
Anyway I respect everyone, and I serve notice on any who disrespects me.

O I have over time exceeded the speed limits, and ran a few stop signs.
My folks attended a Church in the neighborhood known as True Vine.
I’m not perfect, but I’ve never  been accused of being a liar or hypocrite.


People called me “a good boy” when I was a kid growing up.
But there was always something inside the me that they could never see.
They never knew the deprived, the denied, and the underprivileged me.

My grandma was my best friend who taught me love; and man she was tough.
My next best friend came along when daddy gave me Jack, my first little pup.
He was the best, boldest, fastest, and loved to ride in daddy’s pickup truck.

By grace I’ve done good like we all should, and never committed a crime.
I don’t smoke, drink, or dope; but I’m a sinner saved by God’s grace alone.
I believe in forgiveness and not “an eye for an eye”; but please don’t ignore me.
04012016  PS Contest, Who Are You?, by Catie Lindsey

Copyright © curtis johnson | Year Posted 2016

Details | Prose Poetry |

lead my hand o' dear life

lead my hand o' dear life

lead my hand
on this land
o' dear life, 
until the end

o' dear thought
of comfort

seed my life
feed me not in strife
bleed me joy from nine to five

lead me a journey of phases
a journey of ages
to face this

germinate in me a corn
of survival 
a history of possibilities
a record of living to afford
a source to live

for this life 
is a choreographer of life
a propeller of existence
an economy of spiritual commodities

a tear drop of opportunities
yet not so many does see its commonalities
an event of anomalies and regularities

lead me a way o' dear life
carry me a sledge on a journey of life 
a terrain of survival and life

a gemstone for many
a pentagon of any
a model of penny

an artwork of joy

a string of life on a journey
a script of many
a stanza of any

opn08022012/0106

from: 'journey of life' and 'on a journey', 
february 2012 

>> ntema's unique poetry (nup) 
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/lead-my-hand-o-dear-life/

Copyright © Onalethuso Petruss Buyile Mambo Ntema | Year Posted 2012

Details | Prose Poetry |

Of A Pin Cushion Heart

     Of a Pin Cushion Heart

Corroded tear ducts,
crystallized tears,
and estranged crying,
have left
a pin cushion heart
that no longer bleeds
memories of hurt.

The space left
with your leaving
still remains
but need not be filled:

I will always
have known you
and love you still.

Copyright © millard lowe | Year Posted 2015