Best Faithtree Poems


No Room For Baby Jesus

It's Christmas time again.
The shopping is over;
All the beverages have been bought,
as well as the food.
Cards have  been sent and received.
Decorations have been placed 
and the tree is fully assembled and garnished.
Located at the base of the tree are gifts.
So many that you can't see the stand.
One problem...
There's no room for baby Jesus.

A Penny For Your God Part One

In the wood, two paths diverged, I could follow but one. It seemed absurd, to make 
a choice that many had made, to believe in one, and the other proclaim, that the 
one I follow leads to the light, because others believe it, it must be right, and there 
on the trail of the path I follow, a penny I found beneath the hollow, of an oak that 
has stood for thousands of years, and besides mine dropping … a million tears. It’s 
been there witness to this and more, to the greatest of love and the hatred of 
scorn, its seen man aplenty in grandeur and sorrow, and in every vein belief that we 
choose to follow, it cannot move … it only bears witness, to the hope we spill out, 
our blood of Sucre’s. Its seen people bleed for naught but the land, that its shadow 
has fallen upon, for this grand, scheme of things that we believe is tomorrow, but 
never our eyes will open to follow, that greatest of things … the lifting of sorrow.

To put forth the light of a “Penny” that’s borrowed, from the one who created that 
thing he hallowed, beneath a tree where a penny was found, and a child picked up 
and thought … “He Crowned”, for once before … owned he nothing, and now 
afterward … owned he something, that was not his but something of store, of 
another’s hands … a pennies succor, and where this thing so small and slight, 
where it came from … who had the might, to change the fortunes of one so slight, to 
bring a child out of this thing called blight, just from the simple task of seeing, this 
thing beneath a tree was gleaming, of copper … not gold this thing he followed, and 
like his hopes before he had swallowed, and noticed it there beneath its glimmer, a 
grain of sand that brought its shimmer, to add to this, this Penny that shines. And 
shows of a time, when life went without rhyme. When nothing made sense … not 
even the penny, which small fingers picked up and thought it plenty, enough to give 
birth to wine and bread and the water that we all wish we had

Zappum

Zaqqum
06/05/2011

Sweet and foul
Bitter and beastly
Look upon the ones that chose to eat me
Feathered millionaires gathered at my feet yearning for the biter treat
It's calling you will you answer
Will you kill your spouse for this meal
My belly it's full of hate as I hold in my bowels from the ache
Still I'm propelled to reep from the grit filled tree of sin
This tree is designed for the son of men
Adam will rise up again
Taking hold of a pummeled end cleaning the rinds
Holding it in
Oh great and mighty one please not this again
Tis what I wanted when I took up with sin
So I grab more fruit and I dig in.
Copywrite©ameaca2011


The Witching Fire

no more broken bread upon a tree                                                                                 
the eyes of the alpha and omega first and last                                                                
the consuming fire Jesus out lives his the created tree                                                         
nostrils blast broken cross the past he sets in heaven  laughs                                        
witchery’s vain assuming for his not under a rock he is the rock                                         
he is not in the garden not behind a stone not in the tomb                                                 
the precious stone he is upon his throne I hope you receive                                                
his mercy he has already shown judgment coming soon                                                    
the true bread was never bound by any one                                                                    
the Gospel he laid his life down freely for every one                                                
repentance and truth a gift from on high                                                                            
a love sent to our hearts to purify                                                                                    
it draweth nigh ye will stand like men                                                                        
before an almighty God that judges sin                                                                           
let him amend your ways before you die                                                                            
a plea accept your Lord Jesus this hour                                                                          
before this heaven and earth expires                                                                                
before painfully you know that your on fire
© John Beam  Create an image from this poem.

The Priest and the Man

Ashes from ashes
The eternal tree arises. 
With
Roots deeply rooted,
In the dust of dusts.
In which our sins gather.


“O Priest, o priest what do these words in my visions mean” the man says.
The priest replies “My son, my son I do not know,
For I too have these visions, but that tree you see is etched on my chest”.

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