Writing Christian Poems

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Details | Free verse |
By my side:
The tallest mountain,
The calmest pond,
The purest stream;
My hope and strength,
Faith and love;
The Lord,
Our God,
Always by our side

Copyright © Kevin C. Martin | Year Posted 2013




Details | Rhyme |
Always running late;
Just taking time to enjoy it.
Life is a car speeding fast,
But it's better to be stuck in traffic.

Copyright © Kevin C. Martin | Year Posted 2013

Details | Enclosed Rhyme |
If only my body had no need of sleep,
Unceasingly, I would write poetry
The fragrance of my words like potpourri ,
Stirring the angels to weep.
*
Why do I waste my time,
Arranging words in symmetry,
Guaranteeing poverty and obscurity,
On such a trivial pastime.
*
I will stop writing today alas,
No wait, I'll stop tomorrow,
First let me express my sorrow,
In a touching epitaph.

5/17/16

Copyright © Kim Bond | Year Posted 2016




Details | Free verse |
I came I saw I conquered you blundered

Copyright © John Beam | Year Posted 2014

Details | Narrative |
         The Cross-dressing of Joan d`Arc

Cross-dressing of Joan was perhaps heavily based,
On the bible’s principle in Deuteronomy 22:5 and viewed 
as a Rebellion against God. 
Tis not the putting on of a pair of pants or slacks today, 
But the attempt to deceive who one really was. 
Joan of Arc thus deceived the World in those times,
Prancing around the battlefield in man’s clothing
until the word got out that she was not!
 
Born a bonnie babe was born in 1412,  to peasant French 
parents Jacques d`Arc and Isabelle, in Domremy, 
One would think that the farm would be her heredity. 
No farm inheritance or work on this farm for God had other ‘work’ 
For Joan to do, no not that traditional kind.
What a time to be born, and during the 100 Years War the 
Lancastrian phase of the Anglo-French conflict.
This War began 1337, 925 prior to her birth when
King Charles VI brother and cousin, made Regent Dukes
as Charles lost soundness of mind. 
Their fight over the throne caused the economy to go down 
like a “slippery slope”.  

From a vision Joan foretold that France would lose a siege, 
before it even took place.
It was only then that High Officials took her seriously,
And listened to her ‘message’ from God.
In 1428,  Joan was “crossed-dressed as a male 
and taken to the battlefield. 
Wearing a man’s garb she galloped through fields,thickets,
and rough terrains, and leading France into victory.  
But her cross-dressing switched the conflict to a Religious War, 
For that was a Political and Religious sin! 

On May 23rd 1430 Joan was pulled off her horse 
while riding at the rear of the guard.
Her captors bargained for a huge sum of 10,000 livres lournois. 
While in captivity she wrote two letters alluding she may never come home. 
Two dreams came through for her: 
Victory for France and the Coronation of Charles VII.
 
An inquisition was held for poor Joan of Arc in English
territory where she was Interrogated.
There Joan was accused of things such as these:
Cross-dressing, bewitching, hearing from God.
At age 19, her trial over, in 1431 she was found guilty
Of all charges and burnt at the stake for heresy!
A sacrifice for cross-dressing for her King.

God won’t let her case “rest” and twenty five years later,
An English Bishop ordered that Joan’s case be exhumed.
Examining the case found her “not guilty”, and all charges 
against her were debunked making her a Martyr.
For the role she played and the services that she rendered.

 Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Copyright © Rainbow Promise | Year Posted 2015

Details | Lyric |
we got a lot of rain man's wearin ray bands tryin to shake hands
with baked fans it a staged plan to get carly rea pants in front of a video tape.
stumblin mumblin bumblin fools trying to get paid
To say f this chick and f that one
whatever absurd word that flows right off of this tongue
got a dirty mouth, here is some orbitz gum
im sweatin bullets and i cant even afford a gun
but its so free if i want to abort my son then take his lungs
so i can be one hundred and forty one
and be here to see the thwarting of the sun

mr. obama who've worn out your welcome
But what do I know? I'm this republicun
who thinks all  girls and boys should become
either a monk or nun and never cum
and pay for all of our condoms and pregnancy prescriptions
Or am I christian who cant have fun
because I know hun its wrong to drink coke and rums
till i am drunk and wait for the ring to get buns
then go condemn kids with weed and pokemon

And its sad to think this what our kids believe
cause this what they preach on the MTV
and  their  heart beat beats to each tweet and re-tweet
till a pick leaks online then they move on to vines
whatever better trend setter that stimulates the mind

Copyright © Mike Conway | Year Posted 2013

Details | Ballade |
A Poet Masterfully weaves His words
He mixed them with rhyme and rhythm
And expresses them in great depth of reason

Beauty and Excellency is the aim of the Poet
His piece is an expression of a divine perfection
It is rendered in a way that arouses affection

The Poet spit-out words instead of paint
The poet string words instead of bead
The Poet weaves words instead of thread

A Poet evokes our thoughts and calls us to reason
A Poet enlightens and draws inspiration
A Poet educates and arouses aspiration

The audience is his cosmos
Upon whom the piece is to have an impact
Stirred and deeply affected by his language and art

God is the Master Poet
The Poet and His Poem are in affinity
The Poet’s Piece is a product of divinity

The Poem of God is not buried underground
The Piece of God is not concealed in a book
The work of God is not hid under a nook

The Poem of God is read and recited
It is distinctly seen and apprehended
It is discreetly felt and comprehended

This Poem is the Poet’s most magnificent Masterpiece
We are the divine masterpiece of God’s glory
Publishing the Good News of His Greatest story

Our life is a classic and inspiring Poem
A perfect and a breathtaking work of creation
Yet, this Poem is under a divine construction

For we are His Poem, engrossed in Christ Jesus for good works,
Which God imagine and design that we should divinely express them- Eph 2:10 [The Poet’s Preachers Version]

Copyright © Gideon Foli | Year Posted 2013

Details | Dramatic monologue |
the negro is inferno. doomed for hell. sinful with lost indulging in their own ignorance. made into a reincarnation of the devils wishes. the devils wants the devils needs. they say the pigment is the reason. but i say Jesus is the reason for the devilish seasons excuse my blatant response to the evils that have been done in the name of the SON. the inferno negro is the movie of this country, always watched and critic-ed. you must understand that self hating is very wicced, misunderstood when you walk through a suburban neighboorhood the devil is screaming conform!! conformm!! inferno negro you dont belong so just get along, even if the devil knows. the devil knows your story and your weakness and he lives behind and inside the so called supremacy system we live within. peace inferno negro know thyself for you are so lost in this Babylonia hell.

Copyright © KingWata XX | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |
Random Free Write: 

Just flowing - writing
and not stopping to think
or even to lift my pen
I kept going and the words seemed to have no end
Understanding that the process is a simple one
Love everyone and 
stear free of the wicked one

I'm not sure if it was winter or spring
But, I gave way to all the flaws and  imperfections
and realized that this is me
The change came when I saw fit
and not when someone else decides

It's not hard to forgive
And even easier to forget
Does that not reflect love and also what it begets?
Except too many hold grudges and even
pretend to be angry beyond whats necessary
Caught up in someone elses problem
and not dealing with their own is a hard burden to carry
Let it go
stop negativity where it begins

Cut people short if you have to
because this is your life you have to live
Be on the lookout for those looking to devour you
Pray for those who do ill sh@! to you
Respond in a way that makes them realize they love you
and hope it inspires change

Still maintain dignity and move on to something new
Growing, building up treasures for a place greater than
you can even dream to go
It's the simple things that help make life flow
I could go on and on with this practice flow
Writing and stoping to think or lift my pen
This is one of those poems that didn't make it to the waste bin.

Copyright © humble b | Year Posted 2011

Details | Prose Poetry |
 #1 Apr 21, 2015
I felt nearly dead but I was alive as I remember sitting in a room labelled "CityU of Seattle Library, looking at rows of White Cubes with my books in them and I was not a vegetable in a com a like they said to each other. The people around me had contempt for me and I wondered again if this was real Genocide.
"Park her here", the woman said, "Park the 'Sufferer'(her term) here.God, why did I end up with this? What is it, a Vegetative or Vegetable? Who is Patricia L. McGurk, anyway?"
In Washington, D.C. at the Martin Luther King Library, a man calling himself "the President" ordered, "Put its head here," and the person who worked for him leaned my head on the wall as I stood up (near a photo display of the Civil Rights Movement that I tried to explain to him may have been mine or that I had supported the work to end Segregation in the American South for his race, but he refused to listen to me and it was very hard to speak.
I was near the free computers the 15-minute express emails on computers I believe I had given to the library I had personally built not far from the MacPherson Square-Franklin Park-Skateboard Park or "Freedom Plaza" "torture area". It normally was called the Metro Center stop across the street from the large Catholic Charities stone building I had paid for and built as a child, connected to the Church I thought I owned but never did own anythiing in the United States. No matter if I paid for it, designed the architecture and subsequently built the institution such as the American Publi Libraries - they stole everything and every ounce or particle of credit for the work involved.
"We knew we had a Live Victim, and we proceeded reagrdless or anyway", someone stated perhaps to me in a hearing, I am not certain as I am a victim of horrib le, brutal assaults and murders since that time. It may have been an international conference in Geneva or Vienna, Austria - I am not certain as I was kidnapped as well and brought back to the United States, I believe, to be murdered, stolen from further and tortured publicly in the nation's Capitol area as well as in other states (although Washington, D.C. is a territory, it remains the real capital of the Nationb, the United States of America.
What they do in homeless shelters if put all your things or possessions in cubes or big plastic bags, or they make you do it yourself. They may make you sit in a cube "on display", a bubble in a public park or with actual gas, which reminds me of the "Euthanasia Bubble" from my childhood - a public murder in the hospital I believe I owned or own - it may have been the Georgetown Hospital in Washington DC.

Copyright © Patricia McGurk | Year Posted 2015

Details | Sonnet |


I'm faithful to the talent given me
and so remain a worker of word craft,
for daily do I write my poetry
and praise my God for each and every draft.

To pen a line or two and maybe more
brings satisfaction like a warm embrace
that gives the reason what I'm living for,
although I struggle in this final race.

God gives the grace that's needed in this life
along with peace he promises to me,
the battles of a world that's filled with strife 
have always been and will proceed to be.

  I give my all to gifts he gave to me,
  a faithful writer I will ever be.


August 1, 2013

Copyright © 2013 H. L. Smith

Copyright © Holly Smith | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |
Why do I feel so alone?
Why must I have this feeling,
when His love is shown?
Why am I crying?

I hate how I deal
with everything thrown at me.
Why must I feel
like there's nothing I can achieve?

I know He's here,
and I know He cares,
but I always fear
that no one's there.

I feel as if 
everyone will leave me.
Almost as if
no one loved me.

When I know
everyone cares...
It's just hard to show,
I just wish they were fair.

I cry almost every night,
thinking of how to die,
of how this came into my sight,
how to say goodbye.

I'm sorry.
I know this isn't right.
I've just been lonely, 
all I want to do is to stop this fight.

Copyright © Ana Jusino | Year Posted 2013

Details | Sonnet |
SONNET FROM CHRIST
I never thought of coming to this evil land
My father sent me though it wasn't a command
I was invisible until I turned dust
It was my father's wish thus a must
You were all uncircumcised until I arrived finally
I came to set you free
I was not unaware of the pain I would go through
They debased me because of you
I was virtually nude when they hanged me on that transit tree
My father's wish came to pass untrammeled
You whom I freed went back and stumbled
After I sacrificed my blood, you subjected me to disdain
My father sometimes feels I came to toil in vain
You hide behind the facade of my commemoration and escalate my pain

Copyright © CHRISDAD KOJO ARTHUR | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme |
My dear friends,
you may be afraid of an end,
afraid of the truth of life,
afraid to even use a knife.

For you know it can be used for more than food,
it is more bad than good,
but you know not to do things like that...
know to never turn your back.

For you love Him,
you don't want to lose Him,
but my dear friends...
I had went to the end.

I had done things I haven't told you.
I don't know if you want me to be true,
for I haven't been real...
haven't told you how I really feel.

I have been going through a battle all on my own,
always thought I was alone.
Even when I knew I had God,
I never really was with your God.

I don't want you to make the same mistakes,
for I believe that I am fake.
Don't believe a word I say...
if you did, you'd just walk away.

My dear friends
do not fear, this is not the end.
I will get better,
and become another.

My dear friends,
I will not come to an end.
I will come back,
and I promise that.

My dear friends,
please make your amends,
and live your life.
Put away that knife.

Copyright © Ana Jusino | Year Posted 2013

Details | Ballad |
The beauty of that place was such
that I just hadn't mattered much.
Except for me, the trees were bright
with vibrant leaves.  Oh, what a sight!
The crowds would mingle and would rest
among the brightest and the best
where thoughts and dreams together meld
in beauty so unparalleled.

Those autumn trees would grin and shout,
"Hey, look at us.  Come check us out.
We've colored leaves for you to see."
And so it was for ev'ry tree -
except for me with branches bare.
I didn't brag.  I didn't dare -
for people laughed - and newlyweds
just rolled their eyes and shook their heads.

A boy yanked off my one last leaf,
then ran away - that little thief!
So there I stood, ignored, alone.
I was a poet tree, unknown.
Exposing all my worthless whims,
the breezes weaved around my limbs.
The days were long and getting cold.
I knew that I was growing old.

A gentleman came strolling by
who paused a bit.  I don't know why.
He was a man, quite elderly
who found an old leaf under me.
He picked it up and for a while,
I thought I saw a little smile.
He contemplated for a time
and then reread my dead leaf rhyme.

I'm not a poet tree, they say
so yes, my poems blow away.
But high in humble love they sail -
across the plains and over vale,
over seas and over shores,
before they rest near Heaven's doors.
They're found by men of humble heart
whose souls are touched and set apart.

Let colored leaves not camouflage
those covered trees that sabotage
the perfect rhymes of poet's love
which blow as snow from God above.
God's love is oftentimes disguised
from people who are mesmerized
by pretty leaves that promise bliss
and worlds of joy and happiness.

But seasons come and seasons go
as brooks and streams and rivers flow.
They never stop.  They never end.
If only man could comprehend.
For sailing from the empty trees
are tears of love inside the leaves.
So leaves as these are worth the rhyme
and fly along on winds of time.

©2015 louis gander - www.ganderpoems.org

Copyright © louis gander | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |
From time immemorial your story began
A hundred, a thousand, a million years and more
Your story past written a character just one
The tale of you bleeds into all

Each story unique while pieces the same
Today, tomorrow, millennia expended and gone
Your story continues passed first to no last
The tale of you bleeds into all

Through love and hate, laughter and death
Minutes and seconds grew to decades and days
The story being written you wrote each day
The tale of you bleeds into all

Memories endure through dream and remembrance
Yesterday is gone but tomorrow you live on
Your story yet written a character more than one
The tale of you bleeds into all

Your stories the fires shall never consume
A past, a future, a present goes on
The story you wrote lives forever in your love
The tale of you bleeds into all

Copyright © Steven Fordyce | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |
Just do what ever you think if you must,
Cause with you there can be no trust.
   Faith and love is what you must learn,
It is  something you must go out and earn.
   Respect and understanding is how you must start,
To keep a love from completely falling apart.
   If Joy and Happiness is what you seek ,
Then be strong and true it will be yours to keep.
   Kindness and compassion is a good rule to follow,
It will bring brighter days for al your tomorrows .
    Love as if it were the last day of your life,
Try caring with open arms and do not fight .
    This life is precious if there is someone to love ,
Try to remember that it is a gift from above.
TAC

Copyright © TIMOTHY CARTER | Year Posted 2013

Details | Epic |
An epiphany is actually a Christian holiday that takes place on the 6th of January every year. An epiphany is also a sudden realization of greater truth. It seems that after he or she had said some hateful remarks about each other or whatever, he or she finally has an epiphany; people should accept some changes in their lives. Epiphany is used different ways, especially when it comes to being a Christian holiday, even after Christmas. The only way for people to each have an epiphany is to end their selfish and hateful ways. And the fact that day in and day out, even if these people are moving on with their lives, they should do the same. Some people, like Albert Einstein, were using the word "epiphany" as a scientific term, but it's used to end all types of selfishness and a lot of arrogance. No wonder why epiphany has affected the lives of every human being on planet earth. and just like I said, the only way to end this selfishness is to have an epiphany. The only reason why he/she shouldn't care about him/herself anymore is because other people are as important as he or she is. Without multiple people in their lives, he or she is nothing. He or she must put all negative thoughts aside in order to save themselves from reliving a lot of painful memories. Everybody knows that God wanted the entire human race to get along well. Right now, I wish every human being on the planet each have an epiphany and were to stop being self-centered and start thinking about others besides themselves. Unless he or she each has an epiphany and until he or she ends his or her selfish ways, he or she will likely spend the remainder of his or her days alone.

Copyright © Brashard Bursey | Year Posted 2011

Details | Bio |
Kim
Mother of Rachel, Trey, and a few pets;
Lover of Jesus Christ our Lord, darling husband Hank, and faith-based writing;
Who feels hopeful, joyful, and whimsical; 
Who fears tight spaces, long races, and crowded places;
Who would like to see her Savior’s face, gifts of grace, things fall in place;  
Resident of Saint Louis, Missouri;
Bond

Copyright © Kim Bond | Year Posted 2014

Details | Verse |
SWEET FLOWER OF PARADISE
Grace ,a very sparkling jewel,
a ring of gold,brings day out of
night,sweet from bitter ,glory
out of shame and turns pebble
to pearls,weakness into strength.
This sweet flower of paradise
dwells in the heart that empties
itself of self.Prayer brings forth the
sweetest blessing,where God speaks
peace and fills with joy.No mercy
is too great for Him to give ,no
mercy too little for we to crave.
Lay hold on mercy for how strong
is grace,and how victorious over sin
From Thomas Brooks writings  in Spurgeon’s
Smooth Stones 
*A Phrasis is a structured verse where the poet uses selected prose phrases of another writer’s  to compile  unique poetry therefrom as a tribute thereto,the word phrasis is Greek for phrase.



Listen to me read this phrasis verse of mine on youtube under name ichthychiro

Copyright © Brian Strand | Year Posted 2013

Details | Enclosed Rhyme |
Poetry Title: THE BEGINNING (Colossians 1 vs. 18)KJV
Written by: The Lord of Mammon

Introduction: There are three (3) Realms of Existence that describes the Purpose & Reality of The Creation namely;
1. The Pre-Existence (God the Father, God the Son Jesus Christ & God the Holy Spirit as the Trinity).

2. The Existence (Everything made out of invisible things which includes things we can see and things we can’t see but some are written down for us to believe).

3. The Beginning (The Church – the Called out Ones from Paganism which includes you & I).

Ladies & Gentlemen, God’s about to reveal something some of us knows nothing about. God’s gonna release His Light (New Knowledge) on some of us & we, with willing hearts would be filled with conscious exceeding deeper Knowledge about Jesus Christ we know so little about.


OK!!! Y’all Ready???????

Let’s go there!!!!!!!!!!

In the beginning, God created the beginning. He began with the knowledge of the End from the beginning. Before the beginning began, God was and after the beginning ends and the End begins, God is. The beginning couldn’t exist without God been the pre-existence and as such the beginning can never begin if God had not created the existence which would bring into form, the beginning.

Infinite Nature has this to say; “My Master’s All-Knowing ability began as the pre-existence before He created the Beginning”.

The beginning began after the existence had existed and before the existence began, pre-existence was.

Now, God isn’t found in the beginning cos He got no beginning and He got no ending. So, did God exist before pre-existence or rather is He the Pre-existence? If the beginning fathoms the Pre-existence of God, who and what was in existence between the pre-existence and the beginning before the beginning began? If the beginning can’t exist without the Existence, then the Existence can’t exist without the Pre-existence. If the End knows how the beginning began, then the beginning of the end will begin with the end beginning as the end of all things without a beginning.

Every beginning has an end but can the beginning (The Church) end???

In the beginning, there was a beginning and in the end there is an end. So, why can’t we fathom God’s Pre-existence??? Cos God was, God is and God is to come.

The Beginning could never have begun if there was no God.

To be continued...........................

Copyright © Blessed Uchechi | Year Posted 2017

Details | Rhyme |


There was a city of Babylon whom
King Belshazzar ruled...
Till that one night, when he became “fooled.”

“Eat drink and be merry.”
Was the motto of the day!
But God had something else, he wanted to say! 

The finger of God reached down
And wrote on the wall!
The prophet of God told the king, 
his kingdom would fall!

The king panicked and later that night…
His kingdom fell…  Without a fight! 

May this be a lesson and a warning to us today!
We need to listen to God!
And what he has to say! 

Our country may “enjoy”  it’s wickedness and sin!
But one day soon!  It will
be coming to an end!

Won’t you allow the writing of God,
to touch your heart’s door?
It was for me and you, that our savior died for!

God loves you more, than you’ll ever know!
He came to earth to redeem your soul!

By Jim Pemberton   

Copyright © Jim Pemberton | Year Posted 2012

Details | ABC |

 
 Who am I to criticize another person
         I try to play the role but, yet I hide behind a curtain,

 Is my mind playing tricks on me
         Or is it just my inner demons trying to get free,

 I try hard to erase my terrible past
         So I can cast all my vengeance to those who ask,
 
 I am trying to change who I really am
         But, the ones I have tried to impress don't really give a damn,

 I shout to the world I am now a christian
         Is it real or am I too far gone due to all my confessions,

 The inner me wants to believe all this is true
         But, the old saying goes I am me and you are you.



Written By: Unique Poetry.....2008


Copyright © Michelle Born | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |
You know you’re a writer when every circumstance is an opportunity 
To paint your paper with a pen
When a teardrop shed is a new gateway with a gleaming rainbow
You know you’re a writer when you awaken suddenly in the night
Chasing a comet and its tail then off to a maroon sunset you will sail
All with the stroke of a pen	
Just think of the possibilities with me and my pen
You know you’re a writer when your house is a mess
And the trash has yet to be taken out 
Because you are digesting the end of a magnificent fairy tale
When your water just got shut off because you forgot to open your mail
All the while writing about menageries and meadows
How shall I close this extraordinary gem?
How shall I bring this poem to an end?
It’s all sitting at the tip of my quill
For now I will close this write and bid my poetic friends a good night
We shall gather again here on another day!
I know that I am a writer and for this gift of God I say “thank you, Father!”
Thank you for the gift of creativity and love for all of mankind
Your heart is my heart as I sit down to write
You are always speaking to my fingertips!
May this joy of writing never end
Your best friend,
Gwendolen
8-8-14

Copyright © Gwendolen Song | Year Posted 2014

Details | Verse |
WHEN THE WORLD SLEEPS 
This man Christ,very God and
very  man,this great design and ‘til 
the end of time,to make all sinners
‘mine’. To commemorate this
sacrifice this glorious sacrament,
a preparation daye, a solemne
Feast of mercy and miracles.Pledges 
of Thy love, sacred institutions 
regularly to be said, of prayer and
meditation,lest they wither away,
dead, with time.When all the world
is asleep we should’st watch upon the
Day-lilie of life as if the sun were
already set.When all is gone,and 
all is dust, deformity ,desolation 
and stress.Keep me Lord from hours,
and the powers, of the darknesse.

From Henry Vaughan’s Solitary Desolations

*A Phrasis is a structured verse where the poet uses selected prose phrases of another writer’s(not a poet)  to compile  unique poetry therefrom as a tribute thereto,the word phrasis is Greek for phrase.

Listen to me read this phrasis of mine on youtube under the name ichthyschiro

Copyright © Brian Strand | Year Posted 2013

Details | Light Poetry |
A poet is a man with words,
And words a weapon are.
His words are sharply stropped and so
He makes them travel far.
He makes them cover many miles, 
Emotive  ones at that,
Digest those miles, absorbs their styles,
Gestate them, thinking back.
Then, having indigestion, our
Young poet now must crumble,
Or re-invest those travelled words
In a new song, strong but humble.
He reaches in to get the feel,
He crawls to depths un-shared.
He wonders is that’s all there is
And dances with despair.
But he reaches out to touch
The great Designing Hand
By whom all things were made, who took
That great creative  stand,
Whose mind spun wildly when He thought
Of making man like Him,
With vivid sensitivities,
A heart to reach and dream.
He stretches, and the Hand is there
To touch and know the power
Of gentle sensitivity
In this harmonious hour.
He starts to write he knows not what,
Marvels at the sight
Of these rich words that tumble out
In order neat and tight,
The words are sharp.  They know their place.
Their rhythms dance and play.
He dances too, though the tune is new,
The words make no delay.
They place themselves before his eyes.
His eyebrows on the rise,
His eyes wide open watching while
His hand the keyboard plies.
He takes a breath before he reads
What he has written down.
His heart expands, and satisfied,
He thinks of what he had inside
And finds it grandly multiplied
While he seems just the clown.




Copyright © Helen Murray | Year Posted 2016

Details | Rhyme |
I was lounging in plain sight,
He appeared and said “Write!”
I said, “Paper is fresh out,”
Legal pads, college-lined, and rose-scented paper
suddenly delivered in fresh stacks all about,
Then He vanished in a foggy purple vapor.

Again I began lounging outright,
He reappeared and told me to “Write!”
I said, “Pen just ran out of ink,”
Ballpoints, gel pens with comfort grips,
feathered quills and inkwells came about in a blink,
Then He disappeared like the sun during an eclipse.

Once more He was there. “Write,” He said.
I replied, “I am afraid to see what’s in my head.”
He said, “Don’t be afraid, dear daughter.”
Then He produced a lake of still water.

Wearily, I looked inside.
Carefully, I wrote.
Tragically, I shrieked.
Frantically, I cried.
Then He held me,
And I was satisfied.

“He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters.” -Psalm 23:2

Copyright © Kim Bond | Year Posted 2015

Details | Epic |
At a church in a suburban community, I see a bunch of people and a trio of
rock/contemporary Christian bands. I'm either a soul trapped in a force field, or a guy
with a free spirit. When I listen to a lot of rock/contemporary Christian music, it's like
a party in my brain. It's also as if I'm going to a rock/contemporary Christian concert in
Arlington, Texas. The only reason why I listen to a lot of rock/contemporary Christian
music is because it's entertaining and inspiring. My favorite artists are P.O.D., Aly &
A.J., Skillet, Delirious?, and other artists. It's the other way to express myself freely
without holding anything back. If I were in a real band and I were good at playing the
guitar as well, then I'd be playing some rock music fused with contemporary Christian
music. It seems that I'd rather be at a church in one of the suburban communities than a
gospel church in an urban community. And if I were to own all rock/contemporary Christian
albums released by all of the artists, like, P.O.D., Skillet, and/or other recording
artists, there's no telling what great thing might happen next. I wonder if there's going
to be more contemporary Christian music and new artists? I guess I'll never know.

Copyright © Brashard Bursey | Year Posted 2011

Details | Rhyme |
Wondering;
Wanting something right;
In my life;
Totally corresponding to the rites;
Those rights of surviving in this vast universe;
Going, 
Going on;
Going on and on misty lights;
Wonders of culturally enticed;
Where are the heavenly's;
God has promised me;
Where are the birds inflight;
What about visions of marvelous;
Available for all of us;
Every word needs a friend;
So I placed a pen in hand;
As I place these words on paper, while sitting on the porch engaging;
All early morning sights
Gonna see every thing all right;
it's alright as I ponder..
In awe God's awesome 
Sunlight wonder. . .

Going to see the light
Brilliant brights seeing heavenly lights;
Sun light wonder, as I gaze across the skies;
Glorious wonders as I spy God walking in the clouds;
Sun light wonders bright in skies;

Still I'm wondering, wanting something right, in my life;
Totally corresponding to the sites;
The hills, the valley's beneath my feet;
The woodland small animals eating off the ground natures treats;
And I am going on, going on in the mists of the lights;
The lights that shine so ever bright(ly)
And I must go on, go on till I, see the face of my God. . .

Where are the heavens?
Where are the birds inflight?
What about visions of marvelous marvels, (oh my)
my, my, my. . .
brilliant bright seeing heavenly lights;
Sun light wonder, as I gaze across the skies;
Glorious wonders as I spy God walking in the clouds;
Sun light wonders bright in skies;
Sun lit wonder standing on the clouds;

Gonna see everything all right;
it's alright as I ponder..
In awe God awesome;
Sunlight wonder

Questing all my thoughts;
By passing my inner self;
All I have left;
Is to give up the breath;

Where are the heavens, in my life?
Where are all those birds that are inflight?
What about those visions of birdy's flying above me?
Glorious wonder as I now see God walking before me;
And what of all this beauty, then I must finally be;
I am in sun lite wonder and it's in me;



(From the forthcoming God's Children Writes Words, New Poems New Friends) 2010c





Copyright © James Edward Lee Sr. | Year Posted 2017

Details | Rhyme |
If Jesus were a blogger,
I’m sure His stats would soar.
When folks read of His miracles
they’d want to come back for more.
 
 
There’s no doubt in my mind
that His followers, they’d become;
when they read how He could heal
the lame, blind, deaf and dumb.
 
 
His popularity would be off the charts,
at least in my estimation.
As they heard of the  loaves and fishes,
He would be an instant sensation.
 
 
His fame would be astronomical,
spreading afar and near ;
As long as He constantly published
what the masses were  wanting to hear.
 
 
But what if He wrote to His “followers”
that they needed to take up their cross?
Would folks still throng to His site
or would blog traffic  suffer a loss?
 
 
What if He got specific,
and in writing, defined what was sin?
Would the groupies continue to follow,
or would the blog crowd start to thin?
 
 
Well, Jesus is not a blogger,
but He has given us His Word
While some cling to it tenaciously,
others think it outdated, absurd.
 
 
Some thrill to read of the miracles;
the blessings on earth and above,
The wonders of His creation,
His mercy, His grace, His love.
 
 
 
Don’t  tell them of expectations.
To serve God, there’s a price to pay.
It doesn’t please their ears.
From sound doctrine, they turn away.
 
 
But God’s Word is not a smorgasbord.
There is no take it or leave it.
It’s inspired, profitable, all of it.
So obey it and believe it.
 
 
It may not be the popular thing,
what majorities want to pursue.
The Holy Bible, will you wholly follow?
The choice is up to you. 
 
 

Copyright © Carol Connell | Year Posted 2017