Best Confession Poems
POTD
Placed 8 out of 11 placements with 35 entries.
Final days of truth approach
I'm haunted by the tragedy of living,
remembering what an ignorant fool
I was indulging only in passive pleasures
of a world that is full of lies.
I bow my head and on my humble knees
I cross a rainbow bridge,
Search for a sweet blessing of love
and find a sweet serenity.
I hear a strange whisper,
A mumbling prayer of love.
It's strange that such an invocation
should ease my penitent pain.
For if old flowers their petals shed,
then there is hope for me
since I'll shed all my transgressions,
acquire new virtuous leaves
and pray to the Almighty
that He'll forgive my sins.
It is hard to really tell you
The beauty of this man
For many simply find it
Too hard to understand
They laugh, they smile, and tease
As I describe his every being
They just can’t fully see
The splendor that I’m seeing
Though he is just a character
I really can care less
He is real in this crazy heart of mine
So give your teasing a rest!
His hair is black as ebony
His voice as smooth as milk
It reminds me of dark chocolate sliding across oiled silk
His face is pale and serious
With black eyes that pierce your own
His grimness makes me envious
In this world he is alone
His nose is hooked—but not too much!
And his rare smiles are divine
His black robes add a vicarious touch
I wish he could be mine!
As far as personality goes,
I say, he’s quite the charmer!
Dexterously shielded by a past of foes
Beneath his shame of honor
Sometimes he’s angry, but mostly glum
Rarely is he content
He lost his love, cold and lonesome
Sarcasm is his lament!
Alone he lingers in the dark
Torn and set apart
No one knows he has left a mark
Right smack-dab on my heart!
I stared intently at book and screen
When they first came on
Every word he utters is like a dream
And then again—he’s gone!
Nevertheless he leaves me
With a feeling so grand
At loss of words from the awe he gives me
A joy that no one understands
Can I help but swoon and gape,
At the great professor Severus Snape?
*Note: Although Alan Rickman is a contributing factor to my obsession,
I’m seriously just in love with the character…and that is my confession!
You reminded me again, not to be late.
That I shouldn't let you hate.
What we have because it's delicate.
That you are fed up, trying to put me upright.
Talking about how much money I waste.
On things that ain't important.
Some that I buy off the internet.
Not to mention, going out on dates.
With group mates, accumulating debts.
Like earning money is a copy and paste.
That you are done with me not being straight.
So you are gonna leave and I will regret.
Because I don't seem to have learnt.
Ever since we met
So I made it simple enough not to complicate.
I talked to immaculate.
And asked her to review my monthly budget.
I blocked Margret.
I told Sarah to talk to Cate.
And tell her never to show up again at our gate.
I told you Peace is a friend, just like fortunate.
Shamim is my workmate same to Annet
And sometimes our bosses ask us to collaborate.
On some projects that's why I have to work late.
With Esther, Fauster and Bridget.
I am not always really out on a date of late.
And not to forget.
Shalom has got Jophet.
Who was my classmate.
So I wouldn't really want to interrupt.
What they have got.
Their relationship is perfect.
Remember the last time we met
In studio, I had to vacate.
Because I didn't want another upset.
Back at home with my soulmate.
Because of a compliment.
Or a comment that would make us fight.
Set us apart and have us separate.
I dearly love and cherish you my sweetheart.
Numberless now ...
Many, the years since then
When I uncurled my toes and reached thru soil
Pushed up and spread out
While beneath me the richness of the earth nourished
Spreading tendrils through the dark and damp
To give me strength and secure purchase
Ring-by-ring my girth increased
Branches spreading ... reaching for the air
Capturing the weep of heaven
And bounding toward the warm of the sun
Water surging like blood
Chlorophyll coloring my bloom and breadth
Carbon dioxide like the breath of life
Deep in ... oxygen out
Little ones doing their work during the green time
And their bright, crisp, beautiful deaths
Autumn's blanket, their last deed
Countless, those cycles ...
Yet ... I stood strong over HER
Sheltered her from rain, child-to-woman
Shaded her quiet time in the summer swelter
Covered her loves in the autumn chill
Let her swing in my boughs, up to the sky and back
It was my pride to care for her these years
To offer my strength and cover
And mostly, to hear her sing to the meadow.
Yet now she swings again in my boughs
Dangles amidst my strong arms
Lifeless ... on a rope.
Oh, if only I were a willow
For then I, too ...
Could weep.
Written on January 7, 2020
N/A'd on June 13, 2020 in the the "I Am A Tree" Poetry Contest
Submitted on June 16, 2020
To the "N-A Re-Run 8" Poetry Contest
John Hamilton, Sponsor.
My thoughts were of you today
as I sat and wrote another letter.
It's said that a signed love letter
is the truest confession of affection.
Mine have filled pages that you will never read~
of things I no longer have the chance to say to you;
words of passion left unsaid, of anger put to bed
and of the dreams we once held dear.
Last month I wrote about the song you wrote for me
of how I struggled to hold back my tears~
torn between watching your face
and your fingers as they caressed the keys~
imagining how they'd feel moving over me.
I wrote of my thirst for you... then and still
although this letter will never reach you
on this last page, I had to let you know
Last week, I wrote to thank you for loving me.
It was the greatest gift we gave to each other,
but it's supposed to endure all things
How sad to think of a star dying.
Sad to think that now, when I look at the stars,
I can feel your arms around me.
You asked me to write a poem about fallen stars,
wondering where they go when they die.
The last line was, "Heartache is elusive to the eye."
I no longer believe that to be true
for my heart aches from missing you.
You're no longer beside me as I sleep.
Our eyes no longer gaze into each other's,
but my heart weeps with every beat.
Today, I wrote you... one more love letter
This last one will be in your beribboned pack
One last letter, one last page
that you will never know you were missing.
I signed it as I always do ~"With love,"
and added it to all the others,
safely kept in the back of my desk drawer.
I cannot post them now that you've passed away
"Farewell my love," are tearful words
that would've stained the page ~
a valediction my hand refused to write.
A confession to the
bartender
The one with the drink in
her hand
The one who looks just
like my bottle...
A glass would do
Or make it two
So i can pour out my
heart to you...
So i can make my
bitterness come
through...
You remind me of my
lady
The only difference is
your are tenderness
You never took my heart
the way she did
you never played me the
way she did....
She was everything to
me
That's why i took her to
where i would be
Somewhere dark where
no eyes can see
Somewhere i could meet
her again....
Somewhere she won't
hurt me again.....
My secrets i give to to
you my bartender......
Secrets of a large dark
heart....
CONTEST; confessions to
a bartender
by; Natalie :) The Rogue
Rhymer
Confession Seeks Forgiveness – I Do Not
I will not confess, nor beg forgiveness,
for the sins of others, unrepentant,
nor succumb to “Inquisition’s” game,
accept their scars in Jesus’ name.
Confession would relieve them of
their guilt as they stand in mocking
pose of staff and quilt.
I will write in metaphoric hell of
living in a demon crusted shell,
hearing only roaring of the beast
denying me my right to living’s feast,
carrying the weight of living death
tortured by the scent of whiskey’d breath.
Catharsis, the confession of the soul,
leaves me empty - never feeling whole,
frees me from rage’s pain streaked grip
the demons of the past escaping crypt.
Hate and violence turned upon the self
a loneliness that anger cannot quell,
an innocence long locked in private hell.
Confession seeks forgiveness, I do not.
Writing let me voice the things I thought,
spew the venom of a vile and putrid stench
that I’ve lived with from that day - and ever since.
Thus have I learned to live in guarded space
in endeavor to show only freedom’s face
to smooth the ever present strain
the somehow they might see my hidden pain.
I seek not absolution for their sin
but the destruction of unholy liars den
where they hide the children’s souls they stole
under flowing robes and crowns of mitered gold.
8/31/2014
in the stormy light
each lover hears confessions
the night rains passion
contest Get Romantic
visual 2
“Guilty, Sir, if you insist that I am--
Yes, ‘twas I who cut her with a knife and
Took her heart out, so very gently while
It was beating--still beating in my palms.
From the cavity where her heart had lain
I placed it in an ornate box with care,
A vessel lined with the finest satin,
Encrusted around with glittering gems
That shone and sparkled like her living eyes,
Which had enthralled me when she was alive.
“What? Remorse, Sir? No, absolutely not!
With what I did, I am most satisfied.
Know, Sir, that she had promised me her heart
When we were young and very much in love--
This love we nurtured, as seasons went by
And yearly sealed in sincere assurance,
Till she slowly became cold and distant,
Not speaking a word, till through circumstance,
She confessed that someone else had her heart,
So I--I took what was pledged to be mine.
“Where, Sir? It’s in a space under my bed,
Where nightly I take it out of its place
And lay it on my pillow near my head
That I may caress it and dream of days
When lovers stood fast on what they had pledged.
Please, Sir, if you’d retrieve the box for me,
This dank dark cell would be a paradise,
For her heart would bear me such company
That even the loss of freedom would suffice
To make me feel I am a man most free.”
April 2, 2023
This lapse shed showers of sorrows
Piercing my diamond heart with its arrows
And as it breaks within my grasp furrows
It paints little hells on my minds marrows
Oh! Pretty maiden so dark and comely
Exhuming my youthful passion spontaneously
With infectious smiles and extorted kisses
Your seduction breaks honest promises
There our shadow coupled in the pool of yesterday’s rain
Ill-memories of passionate groans and silent whisper
Accentuating painful pleasure for gain
A deluded victory, a stunting stigma,?
Growing is the ears to this confession
Of rumbling rhymes and straying clauses
Still before you condemn me pause
To this myth of contrition.?
Within the warmth of wandering words lies the breath of God
His blessing upon panegyrical pages that my pens have clawed
For inside each liberated letter a cerebral of celestial creation
With no beginning no end to its magnanimous manifestation
His words that spew out like relentless radiating rivers ranting
In the waking wisdom of sculpturesque seeds forever planting
But with the word like a hammer can boldly build and destroy
Let’s choose our thoughts well before we deliberatively deploy
Warrior writers work with God in their panoptical pensive play
To successfully spread His Love thru words in a Biblical bouquet
For all the poets that speak through Him, I will adoringly applaud
Confessions of obsessions writing words from the breath of God.
July.19.2017
OBSESSION
Sponsored by: Silent One
Confession
Author: Runping Chen
From the peak of soul
I carry a handful of clean soil;
From the rapids of life
I scoop up a ladle of clear water,
And mix them up together.
I searched and fetched the bricks of affection
To build up a kitchen range.
I burn my life as igniting the firewood
To heat the pot of faith
So as to stew leisurely
Gurgles of the poetic thinking,
In silence.
BULLY
Who is the girl with the cricked teeth, she doesn’t deserve to smile
She is the type of person who needs to stay in and marinate for awhile
She needs to do something with that nappy hair looking like Diana Ross
Because damn, if life was a beauty contest, she automatically loss
I don’t know who her family is but she definitely got the ugly gene
She wears the same clothes everyday and she lacks personal hygiene
She has no friends and no one even acts like she exist
So she should be glad I’m giving her recognition and writing this
On the bus we make fun of her, the whole way to her house
She doesn’t even talk back, she is just as quiet as a mouse
We love to see her cry because maybe it will wash the dirt off her face
We always throw a paper bag over her head anyways, just in case
We like to throw food at her in the lunch room to give her some flavor
And we throw her downstairs so she can die but we do it to her as a favor
However, she took the last bit of abuse from us and showed us bullying wasn’t fun
Because she was after us today, when she showed up to school with a loaded gun
I never wanted to be a bully, I just wanted to be popular and that is my confession
Needless to say, I will never bully anybody again, she taught me my lesson
Prayers with Confusion
After the sixth day god had created the heavens, earth and man.
The seventh day, god lay. He looks up as he rest his head and
what did he see? Nothing just darkness and open space.
He just wondered and stared at a blank canvas with nothing there.
With continued interruption from the voices of words
with indiscretions. God's head was filling with desperate pleas
of man in need. These prayers were people's thoughts of
worship and repent. The holiest and brights words, god holds
closest to his beating heart in his holy chest.
God commands, with the words of amen at the end of a confusion.
A star will glow and appear for they will know I have forgiven
there sin and their soul will be cleansed.
By
Rowdy
Yates
Once enraptured by beautiful Bathsheba’s allure,
my life went horribly awry.
My appentency for control took a very bad turn
after I gave into lust and tried to conceal my awful sin.
I sent Bathsheba’s innocent spouse to the front of a battle,
having him serve in a position not at all auspicious.
My first sin of adultery had multipled into other sins!
Now beset by anguish, I plead with the Lord
to forgive me and show me his great compassion.
I ask Him to assuage my miserable soul
and restore me to salvation.
I suffer here on earth the pains of hell
for my atrocious transgressions.
I beg for God to absolve me.
Forevermore I shall sing praises to my beloved Lord.
Oct. 31, 2019 for John Hamilton's Crazy A's Poetry Contest