Best Grace Of God Poems
On the train that I rode today,
into town I was on my way.
You never know what you will see,
out the window were clouds of gray.
An old man came on with one knee,
he hobbled over ~ sat by me.
By God's loving wonderful grace,
I softly said a pray to thee.
An old lady with a sad face,
filled with hurt and pain sat in place.
All her pearly white teeth were gone,
leaving just a wide open space.
She could have been up near the dawn,
she really slept on the lawn.
I wondered what her life was like,
so tired she gave a big ~ big yawn.
Next a kid with a minibike,
the kid looked like a hunger strike.
God's loving grace has been on me,
so that my life could be christlike.
Date Written:5/11/2022
2 place
Rubaiyat Contest Contest Judged: 6/13/2022
Sponsored by: Sotto Poet
~~Note~~A true story from a train ride on 5/1/2022.
Any of these could have been me.
By God's loving wonderful grace,
I was able to watch and then pray.
"There
but
for
the
grace
of
God
go
I"
I
heard
them
say,then
they
pass
an
addict
begging
on
the
street
and
turn
away,
They
call
themselves
Gods
children
and
through
Gods
land
they
roam,but
the
homeless
dont
get
charity,why?
cause
charity
begins
at
home,
So
much
for
Christian
values
may's
well
leave
them
on
the
shelf,they'll
tell
you
God
will
only
help
the
man
who
helps
himself,
There
but
for
the
grace
of
God
go
I
and
aint
it
so,no
point
in
asking
for
their
help
they'll
only
tell
you
no,
They
congregate
on
Sundays
and
their
sermons
they
do
teach,its
time
that
someone
told
them
they
should
practice
what
they
preach,
Hypocrisy
comes
from
all
sides
inside
rage
does
errupt,as
I
think
of
the
Catholic
church
so
false
and
so
corrupt,
There
but
for
the
grace
of
God
go
I
its
all
a
farce,your
word
it
just
dont
mean
a
thing
youre
talking
through
your
ass,
Theres
nothing
that
Id
like
more
than
for
us
to
both
agree,that
there
just
aint
a
hope
in
Hell
youll
ever
convert
me,
So
there
but
for
the
grace
of
God
go
I
and
aint
it
true,dont
think
that
youre
above
it
for
someday
that
could
be
you.
Back when I was a rebellious, care free young lad
there was this regular practice that I had.
I can remember when, every now and again
I would visit my local court house and watch the sentencing.
Defendants were declared convicts officially
and marched off to serve their time at some correctional facility.
Their lives were now forever changed for the worse most likely
and then on one visit it really struck me
that there but for the grace of God goes I
and I've been only lucky so far not screwing up my life,
but all luck does run out eventually,
So Don't Blow It!
Right now you have this one chance to change immediatly,..
...and so I did and for the better I believe.
Hanging at a court house was great therapy for me apparently.
VIETNAM and the GRACE OF GOD..
“ another fallen marine”
The daughter of a lucky Vietnam marine,
his only child is my husband you see
lucky because he made it out alive,
aware of the alternative..
as he watched buddies die.
Some days for hours I’d listen to stories
many times in disbelief…………
it wasn’t until he pulled out his pictures
that he made a believer of me.
Enemy fire, hell in the jungle,
and finely beyond the grenades,
I remember him saying
it was by the grace of GOD,
the reason their Asses were saved.
Proud they were and lucky
to go home, now here we are,
fourty years down the road.
While my husband,
our daughter,
his mother and I, feel
very fortunate to have been
a part of his life
As luck would have it..
this cliché is a lie,
those who felt lucky never
had luck on their side.
A soldier selflessly sacrifices life
some were called quickly
and others over time.
Dad was a marine during the
Vietnam War standing
front line and center,
freedom at the core
Positioned in the jungle,
men were exposed
It’s silent, and brewing,
agent orange as we know.
Agent Orange is the reason
so doctors have said,
that caused the cancer and
the death of our dad.
A MAN of all MEN
he will always be known
as another fallen marine has
been called home.
An old man staggering and begging
Outside the doors of Walmart…
There but for the grace of God go I
Perhaps most look askance
Not even giving a second glance…
There but for the vagaries of Fate go I
Does the miscreant chuckle to himself
At the naïve charity of strangers
Or does there reside a tear in his eye
His hands tremble…His eyes dart about
Is his sad condition real
Or just a well performed lie
Life’s not always fair
We all bear some sting
Of outrageous misfortune
But some seem to bear more
Than their fair share
A seemingly outsized portion
So how is it that they’re overweight
How can they afford to smoke
How can that be… if in truth they’re truly broke
Perhaps their lives are
Not all that meets the eye
I can only surmise (and sympathize)
And wonder whether
It’s by luck, or fate,
But for grace of god
…Go I…
"There but for the grace of God go I",I heard them say,then they passed an addict begging on the streets and walked away,
They call themselves God's children and through Gods lands they roam,but the homeless don't get charity,cause charity begins at home,
There but for the grace of God go I and don't ya know,don't bother asking for thier help they'll only turn and go,
So much for christian values leave them stacked up in the shelf,they'll tell you God will only help the man who helps himself,
There but for the grace of God go I it's just a farce,so take your Christian values now and shove them up your ****,
It's nothing but hypocrisy it's flagrant and it's rife,ther quick enough to pass remarks on someone elses life,
So ther but for the grace of God go I 'n' aint it true,don't think that you're above it friend,one day it could be you.
I thank you Lord for being in your hands. I thank you Lord for being part of your plan. I am on my own but I am not alone because It's by your Grace that I can keep my pace. I know you love me Lord even when things are hard and I know you will be by my side and you will always be my guide.
When I don't know what to do I know I can always trust in you, because it's by your Grace that my life is no longer a waste. Even when i was strung out on alcohol and drugs, you still showed me love and when I felt like the whole world had put me down you brought me back around.
You took away fears and wiped away my tears. Now I have the strength to go on and finish the race, for you have taken my case, I feel your wonderful embrace and it's by your Heavenly grace. Father, I pray, that one day, I see you face to face through my Lord Jesus Christ and by your Heavenly Grace...
By MilMan
…There, but for the grace of God go I…
Is a thought I oft used to think
As I cast a hasty, judgmental eye
Roundabout the coffee shop
And o’er the brim of my morning drink
…I used to judge those so-called ‘sorry souls
And ascribe to them sad histories
In blissful ignorance that
Some were likely looking back
And doing the same to me
…Yet with a superior sense of satisfaction
Would I sip my McDonald’s morning brew
Until some hapless soul would draw my attraction
Ah yes…this sorry soul will do
…I would focus in and build upon
My narrative about this sorry soul
Whose life seemed sad and almost gone
Down into life’s rabbit hole
…Oh the trials and ordeals
That this man must daily feel
The sting of outrageous misfortune
That Fate of late has shared with him
More than his fair portion
…Alas my coffee is quaffed
My imaginative narrative done
I’ll likely see this man (my star) no more
And I wonder who the morrow’s
Protagonist will be
As I walk out through the door
…Tomorrow will dawn a brand new day
I’ll sip my Senior brew and sigh
Select a new star for my newest play
(I think I shall title this one like all the others)
…“There but for the grace of God go I…”
…
A cardboard mansion, renovated expansion
No payments left to be made
Three car garage, a hungry mirage
An elegant dumpster buffet
Hand tailored suit sewn with laces from boots
Which he donated to a friend
His non existent gold, lost through the holes
A tragedy one can not defend
Disheveled and dirty and always wordy
Talking about his wonderful life
Has failing health, depends on himself
No way to feed kids or a wife
His only possession is his neck sign confession
"Have mercy will work for food"
No tears left to cry, society asks why
But for the Grace of God it be you.
An original poem by the "Poemdog" Daniel Turner
There are nearly 1 million homeless in the US alone
! In 7 go hungry daily. Just think about it.
The daughter of a lucky Vietnam marine,
his only child is my husband you see
lucky because he made it out alive,
aware of the alternative..
as he watched buddies die.
Some days for hours I’d listen to stories
many times in disbelief…………
it wasn’t until he pulled out his pictures
that he made a believer of me.
Enemy fire, hell in the jungle,
and finely beyond the grenades,
I remember him saying
it was by the grace of GOD,
the reason their Asses were saved.
Proud they were and lucky
to go home, now here we are,
fourty years down the road.
While my husband,
our daughter,
his mother and I, feel
very fortunate to have been
a part of his life
As luck would have it..
this cliché is a lie,
those who felt lucky never
had luck on their side.
A soldier selflessly sacrifices life
some were called quickly
and others over time.
Dad was a marine during the
Vietnam War standing
front line and center,
freedom at the core
Positioned in the jungle,
men were exposed
It’s silent, and brewing,
agent orange as we know.
Agent Orange is the reason
so doctors have said,
that caused the cancer and
the death of our dad.
A MAN of all MEN
he will always be known
as another fallen marine has
been called home
He’s with me when I’m feeling ill
And dries my eyes when tears would spill
And when there’s no one else to care,
The grace of God is there.
He sets His angels over me
When danger looms, where ere it be
And when I need a friend to share,
The grace of God is there.
When rosy clouds have turned to gray
And only sadness comes my way
With sorrow far too much to bear
The grace of God is there.
And when each morning dawns anew
And rainbows arc, I know it’s true.
The grace of God is there.
I can only imagine
How horrible it would be
In a world of total darkness
If I couldn't hear or see
How would I communicate?
If I could only use my touch
If I couldn't understand it
How would it help that much?
I would never hear "I love you"
Or see a beautiful smile
I could never know the greatest things
That make this life worthwhile
And what about the loneliness
That I would feel inside
I would never know accomplishment
Even though I tried
Now, I may never know their heartache
Nor even probably ever understand why
The only thing I know for sure is
There but for the Grace of God go I
THE GRACE OF GOD
Make a joyful noise unto the Lord
Serve Him with gladness
As found in His Word
In His presence, sing songs of joy
I will serve Him with humbleness
For He is my hope
A very present help in trouble
He is to be exalted
Exalted in all the earth
Cast me not from Thy presence
Nor take Thy Holy Spirit from me
Cover me with Thy right hand
You are my Shepherd I shall not want
As one of Your sheep, I will hear your voice
And I will dwell in the House of the Lord forever
AMEN! AMEN! and AMEN!
Curtis Moorman
3 August 2019
During the past three months, I have experienced some extremely difficult trials in life. Only by the Grace of God was I able to endure those dark days. As recorded in the Book of Psalms, I found solace in the Lord. I felt led to share that solace and the joy it brought me during my heavy struggles. The joy of the Lord is my strength. Weeping may take place all during the night, but joy comes in the morning. I encourage all who read this account of my recent dark days to take the time to read passages from the Book of Psalms. If you do, I believe you will discover the peace and joy I found when I read it. God Bless you.
(The date on this poem coincides with my Father's birthday. His guidance during my formative years is helping to sustain me as I have done as the Prodigal Son in Scripture who returned to his earthly father when he realized the error of his ways. I have returned to my Heavenly Father in the same manner.)
The architects of cardboard town, will never shoulder blame.
From brick and stone built luxury, they sit immune to shame.
Whilst on forgotten streets the homeless, dwell in paper waste
Constructing prefab mobile homes, before each cold night breaks.
In handmedowns and odd paired shoes, they shuffle in our streets,
invisible, anonymous, a Legion of deadbeats.
Tramps and Bums, the great unwashed, the epithets we use,
Casting blasé aspersions, we carelessly abuse.
We close our eyes and turn our heads, reciting ‘it’s God’s will,
we don’t know them, they don’t know us,’ thus avoiding bitter pill.
Just Stop, reflect, one minute, as you avoid their eyes,
Remember, but for God’s good grace, that there goes you or I.
A thousand different stories lie, beneath those cardboard roofs,
A million different reasons why, but all state one sad truth.
The corpulence of greedy men, with callous aforethought,
has generated homelessness, our indifference cheaply bought.
A kindly word, a helping hand, each Christian act you make,
to a broken, lost and lonely soul could all the difference make.
Instead of standing idly by, and sighing at the sights
Why not take to task MPs, and make them put this right.
These victims of our system, have slipped between the cracks,
The engine of good government, must get back on the tracks.
Put this right, remove this blight, that puts us all to shame.
Accept the fact, that all of us, share equally the blame.
I started noticing superficial similarities.
He had a shaved head just like me,
and we were both the same age, separated by 3 months exactly.
He was born June 1st, 1953.
I was born March 1st, 1953,
and as I listened to his life story,
of mental health issues, darkness and misery,
I began noticing stronger similarities,
between this unfortunate individual and yours truly.
His problems as a child, his falling into the company,
that would influence his life most heinously eventually.
His low self-esteem, his vulnerability to be drawn in,
by anyone who made him feel special, and/or important,
and as I sat staring into my flatscreen,
I was taken aback suddenly.
The image on my screen was not he but me.
"There but for the grace of god goes I,"
was the first thought I had before I broke down and cried,
but I wasn't crying for myself, I was crying for him,
because he too, like I was also a victim,
of an environment that influenced our behaviour and decision making.
My path just happened to be not as extreme,
as this individual who publicly is seen as a villain,
but it could have been.
"There but for the grace of god goes I,"
I continued thinking as I continued to cry.