Best Redemptions Poems
It looks like a simple brownstone building,
Not much different then any other but it’s residents,
Are of the haunted kind, not made of flesh and bone.
In every window a wind chime stirs, gently caressed by
A chilling winds icy finger tips, after all this is known as
The house of spirits.
Witchery or voodoo’s domain, it is a place of salvation for
Spiritual challenged, listen to the beautiful music they make,
Singing within this their walled cage of brick and mortar, these
Ethereal victims lost.
Here in peace they wait for the light to find them, a waiting chamber,
Of the lords misstep souls, those whom walked off the righteous path,
Yet are not without redemptions wanton of need.
Wanders of limbo’s astral plain, seekers whom roam blindly until
Finding a doorway threshold, then crossing over, into this the house
Of spirits.
A corridors slender passageway, a way stations layover for those tired
And weary travelers to rest until their final journey’s end comes for them,
Sanctuaries power house of the supernatural.
Behind these red doors dare not the mortal flesh clasp the gilded knockers,
For within are things of the unspoken variety, creature protectors waiting at
Bay for the stray intruder to wander forth upon this sacred ground.
Angels kindred brethren whom seek out evil, destroyers patrolling the
Darker shadows for night stalkers whom wish to feast upon the forsaken.
But light’s white power is a mightier force to be reckoned with, and vanquished
Will the devils spawn into the depths from which they came, into the bowels
Of hell shall these demons be thrown into the blackened pit from which they came?
In the twilight’s ethereal hour, a mid-ways breaking point between light and dark,
A shimmering glow strikes this standing watch tower of abandonment’s forgotten,
And heaven’s flood gates are opened unto them, calling these the lost upwards
Towards nirvana and at last know true peace.
It looks like a simple brownstone building,
Not much different then any other but it’s residents.
Are of the haunted kind, not made of flesh and bone.
In every window a wind chime stirs, gently caressed by
A chilling winds icy finger tips, after all this is known as
The house of spirits.
BY; CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Categories:
redemptions, evil, fantasy, fear, god,
Form:
Free verse
Where will you be when the trumpet sounds
When the call comes with an
amazing surprise
A shout is heard by all who leave
these grounds
And all the dead and alive in Christ
shall arise
How will you explain; none of the missing is found
While Satan bombards the media with
his lies
Millions disappear as an army calls up
the hounds
Gone with no trace of any, as hearts in agony cries
Graves are open, cribs are empty, the trumpet sounds
Delusions, signs, and wonders as the evil one abides
Deception is real in all as this
darkness abounds
While behind the scenes, This world in
sin resides
What will you be doing when the
trumpet sounds
One of two in the fields is taken up beyond the skies
The other is left behind, in fear an empty heart pounds
To meet the Lord in the air as the Bible
so describes
All believers united with praise as
heaven resounds
The judgment of God on this earth will truly abide
In tribulation to all clothed with the unbeliever's gown
Their destination set: in their sins they
chose to hide
To this end, eternal fire in hell to be
cast down
When the trumpet sounds, all in Christ
will arise
To meet the Lord in the air, Wearing redemptions gown
For faith in Christ is gifted with the everlasting prize
Eternal life: in heaven we shall forever
be found
When the trumpet sounds?
Categories:
redemptions, blessing, celebration, christian, encouraging,
Form:
Rhyme
On the streets of sin city, on the high roller's main drag,
Known as the Las Vegas Strip, a gentlemen phantom
Does stroll dressed in all black attire, striding forth with his golden Cain,
Flipping a silver chip into the air, and mocking at its power.
The devil's agent of deception is he, retaining a list of names
To collect upon, this gentlemen bandit of the forsaken.
He is here on the dark master’s behalf, ready to claim on
The I.O.U's signed by the greedy, and innocence fallen.
Quietly, moving amongst the crowded venues, he waits
Until his lord calls the name of the unlucky, to be reposed.
Dance do the neon lights, flashing towards pleasure dens of iniquity,
As ladies whom belong unto the night itself, offer their
Tokens of favor, for a working man's paycheck.
Black jacks twenty-one, cut those cards, and pass them out
The first timers dumb luck, will deliver him unto evil,
On this walkers dead man's list tonight.
Against the loaded dice, no soul is left unsanctified,
On the sacred green velvet altar, the wheel of fortune
Spins out of control, then hitting the baccarat tables
Wooden wall, someone screams snake eyes.
Then all is lost, faded are the dreams of illusion, melting away
Into the harsh desert soil, along the road side leading to sin city.
Beneath the arid sandy duns, lies the grave yard
Of the unknown unidentified, a missing persons
Smorgasbord of the rich and infamous, lying right
Beside, the unreported poor man corpse.
This is the Grim Reapers play ground, taunting
And tormenting, those begging for redemptions
Last chance to gain a reprieves pardon.
But when tapped by his golden cain of death,
Your life's essence has wagered it's last bet,
To the winner goes the spoils, and now you
Belong unto the devil.
People say what happens in Vegas stays
There, and rightly so will he agree, with his blackened
Heart and soul, for after all is this not
The capital of hell on earth, known as
Sin City, Las Vegas, Nevada.
The populations of the undead just added
Another’s names tally and the gentlemen
Dressed all in black, is sent a wandering
Again amongst the crowed streets, to claim
Another victim in the dark master’s wrath of
Vengeance.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Categories:
redemptions, adventure, america, evil, halloween,
Form:
Free verse
It is the craving never satisfied, the malformation
Of gluttonous starvation, the disfigured beast of emaciation.
Hell's spiritually depraved wind walker, feasting on the
Lingering slowing pulse of the flat liners final vibrations.
Engorging itself on the fiendish terror, unleashed by this
The devil’s own kindred son!
Dare not look into his hollowed out eyes, turn away from
This misshapen abomination, with its tautly pulled
Flesh, stretching thinly over its boney skeletal frame, it so
Lurks in the night shadows, waiting for a moment of
Unconscious weakness!
For it senses your revulsion, yet it excites and stimulates
Its inner bloods thirst, and desire to feed, awaken from this
Realistic nightmare, quicken your pace, hasten your steps,
Run mortal fool, run!
But there is no safe place to hide, once you bare his
Mark as prey, the predator by midnight follows the
Unrighteous footprints, this blackened satanic beast!
Beware the wrath of the Wendigo, for it has no soul.
This demonic sadist, hiding within the arms of darkness.
Behold this Insatiable cannibalistic hunter,
Taboo’s flesh crawler, stalking on the edge of reality,
Thriving on the hatred, and malice of your civilized society.
This demonic boogie man, whom dances on the grave
Stones of the innocent backwards, wearing a mask
Of lies and deceit, spitting forth a foul odorous
Stench, repelling the living, attracting the undead!
Beneath the chilling air, a creature so slithers, undetectable
Turning into vaporous mist, sniffing at the shifting winds,
Seeking, testing its keen awareness against the night breeze.
Kneeling in the holy church, the sinner begs for redemptions
Shield, to protect him against this foul monster of evil,
But it is too late, for the devil owns this fallen soul,
And the wendigo, is here to collect on his dark fathers
Unconsecrated debit.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Categories:
redemptions, culture, halloween, holiday, horror,
Form:
Free verse
She smiles upon coated slate.
Her skeletons become coagulated whispers
Of yesterday
Another blissful awakening
This shedding of redemptions’ sin
Under elastic dialects
Closure within ephemeral slow dances
Irregular beats of her drum
Now
Steadfast acoustic riffs
Forge constellations' new tomorrow
As she swims through cashmere laden sands
Without the need to float
On dependency’s raft
©Drake J. Eszes
Categories:
redemptions, freedom, life,
Form:
Free verse
I thought for a long time
to try and do something right
(in your eyes)
I've taken the blows
and the comparatives
of every beauty you know
You love me, you loathe me,
I'm evil and detestable
You take me to my depth,
then, deny I've ever been
(there in the shadows of destruction)
(where one must sometimes fight to see the light)
I've been under bondage, n'er a day passes
that I do not try
Yet you splattered the truth and it helped me
for all the time living and giving,
never drawing a breath for today;
reflections of the past
Today my God Given name is special
For maybe I am not what I seem
Beneath this shell, redemptions plea
Seven years and months I've thought of how I could say
what it is that I need to say
Once the weight of humanity sat upon me,
every part of me cared and in my depth,
darkness and despair shadowed me, moving about
It doesn't matter the cost,
the dead are not living, but it's the lost
Lost was I, so cold to the Lord and I told you so
You were nice to me and cared
I loved you
Far be it to me now to brush back the tears streaming
at all cost, freedom is what I want
free to believe that I can be redeemed
Somewhere in days ago
was the writer that was the big joke
the one whose feelings meant the least
This monster
something evil
Your woe
A Wo-Man
Trust me not, for I do not love you anymore
Lest I shall die a horrible death
Seven years and months to say what I needed to say
You gave me brushed pink and yellow pastels of love
and brushing another tear back,
where the darkness's of all your lusts and loathing resides
Do not trust me, for I do not, could not love you any longer
Stars at night tell me I am right
they synchronize their twinkling with fallen hopes gone by
still it is beautiful
a light none the less
Where struggling through our nightmares we found dreams, awakening this
dawn
Do not trust me, I am deceit, I am your fear, I am the worst for you truthfully
I am your woe, man
Your woe
Now go
For John Rhinem aka Johnny
link, John Rhine M John Rhinemiller Rachel st cross, tristen temple
poetrysoup.com Jeremy Street Christopher Marcum whoopi goldburg
Categories:
redemptions, anniversary,
Form:
Free verse
Please speak to me of love in gentle tone,
That I may recall her voice in your inflections
Never were her words shrill or monotone,
But sweet like honey-frosted confections,
She spoke to me with love and sincerity
In phrases coming from her introspections.
She and I conversed in contented solidarity
I so miss those times of sharing intentions,
When together we searched for our verity.
And, sometimes, we cast aside conventions
Speaking in intimate terms only we knew
We were our sole-partnered redemptions.
Once again I yearn to hear her words so true.
SECOND PLACE WINNER
Written July 5, 2022
Submitted to "The Meaning of Love" poetry contest
Sponsored by Anoucheka Gangabissoon
Categories:
redemptions, lost love, memory, voice,
Form:
Terza Rima
Ways of Taiwan….
Open and upright are oracle minds.
Wisdoms are fluxes and thoughts are coils.
Valid truths are drive as forces.
Taiwan needs a exact ways.
Fighht the china commie and get their righrs.
Laws are ready and some are crucial.
Have what you wish as list to list.
If worse come to happen then some had to fight.
China bosses redemptions comes as beyond ways so ever.
Categories:
redemptions, dark,
Form:
ABC
A night of miracles, of splendor, of grace,
A night of wonder for all to trace.
A night of promise of hope, of glory,
A night of holiness, redemptions story.
A night to believe, to accept, to embrace.
A night to grasp the depth of His grace.
A night to reach for something brand new,
A night to hold to all He can do.
A night for sharing, for giving, for gracing.
A night for slowing a life that is racing.
A night for reflecting on purpose and choice,
A night for rehearing His still small voice.
A night of miracles, of splendor, of grace
A night to believe, to accept, to embrace
A night for sharing, for giving, for gracing.
This night is eternal is rich, is amazing.
This night is eternal, is rich, is amazing
This night is smiling for what is arising.
This night is conquering the slaves are free!
This night is Christmas, when God came for me.
Categories:
redemptions, holidaynight, night,
Form:
Rhyme
Judas, Judas, didn't you know
From the cross, forgiveness flows
Upon yourself you brought much strife
In betrayal, you ended your own life
Judas, Judas how many shall follow
Turning their backs, for a better tomorrow
God's not in it, only their greed
That better tomorrow, their dirty deeds
Judas, Judas, they sit among God's own
Taking the communion with a heart of stone
They trade the love of a savior so dear
To fill their pockets and walk in fear
Judas, Judas, they walk in deceit
As scripture their tongues so proudly speak
Deceiving a world, headed for disaster
But they will never deceive the Holy Master
Judas, Judas, in their wisdom they will fall
As they miss the hour, the midnight call
In man's steps they will continue to follow
Hell holds a place for their better tomorrow
Judas, Judas they are seated among the dead
In a fiery hell, they will lift their heads
With their words leading many astray
To stand in judgment that final day
Judas, Judas for silver they traded their soul
Never to walk upon the streets of gold
They strip Jesus and mock him in shame
To their own understanding, God is to blame
Judas, Judas the nails continually driven in
Through the professed church and its sin
They will follow man to the end of the earth
In return an eternity of hell is birthed
Judas, Judas it is sad to see
Why didn't you and they trust in He
A hell where fire is everlasting
Will swallow many with their own understanding
Judas, Judas, why did you stray
Didn't you know, Jesus is the way
Now in hell you lift your eyes
Where the soul of greed never dies
Judas, Judas if you could only speak
To a lost world truly in need
I am sure from hell you would say
Lay down the world, or your soul will pay
Judas, Judas, Jesus loved you so
Above all this you should know
To fall from His amazing grace
Never to look upon redemptions face
Written by: Donetta Harless
Thursday July 21, 2016
Categories:
redemptions, betrayal, bible, christian, faith,
Form:
Rhyme
Human Rights
We struggled more
With these rights which are the rights of humanity
We cried for our rights
We cried for our rights as humans
Our rights for education, sustainability and more
With this cry both a boy and man cried interchangeably for freedom from slavery not in chain form but poverty and debt
We struggled more with these rights
We struggled with the rights of humanity
History had a way of writing us down
With its bitter sweet lies and truth
History had a way of taking these rights from us
Our struggle was deep
Our struggle cut off our rights of humanity
We watched ourselves drink from the cup that was half empty
We watched ourselves drink from the cup of empty promises while we suffered loss broken down from our rights as humans
We had sound melodies of redemption as we screamed for equality and freedom
Our rights, your rights, my rights and the human rights
We paced ourselves as we created rhythms with our footsteps chanting to the beat that will never change
We had sound melodies of redemptions as we screamed for equality and freedom for the rights of humanity
The human rights
Poet
Masego Nkuna
Categories:
redemptions, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form:
Bio
The hardest losses
are those too late to repair
what has been win/win time lost
to despair
Just as love
cannot co-arise
where fear grows
fully uprisen
a prison
predicting anger's nearby
impetuously apprised
surprise.
So too,
Freedom cannot thrive
where addiction has hard helped
us feel we are not softly worthy
to survive
"Loser" labelled struggles
with addiction
cannot feel free of affliction
nor can giving in
to addiction's short-term affections,
powers to feel escape
from personal
and communal,
economic
and political,
monocultural
and monotheistic
OverPowers
Social judgment,
blame
and shame,
co-detachment
non-communication
developing hard
stiffly cold silent screaming
excommunication
Depressing loneliness
isolation
self-ostracization issues
win/lose closeted
fear-based shame defenses
against Old School GoldenRule
loss of co-invested love
offenses
Against spirited natural
nondualistic redemptions
restorations
of win/win historical
Sun nurturing light
and Earth nutritioning power
regenerating
EarthTribe
indigenously sacred regenerations.
Categories:
redemptions, addiction, anger, fear, happiness,
Form:
Parallelismus Membrorum
who would have known
that the fire this time
would be so dreadfully blown—
consuming yours and mine…
but no matter the cost
precious memories are never lost,
we yet live and god remains the boss—
like the eagle he has stirred the nest
and our soul’s spirit survived the test:
weep not for us—for in his mercy, we trust
and in time we shall build again
our god is not the blame…
that old devil will be shamed—
for on the other side of hope
waiting redemptions remain:
bringing new ways for us to cope.
Categories:
redemptions, analogy, faith, fire, imagery,
Form:
Free verse
Get down! is no joke-
Amazon eyes meet
black, jungle eyes
No one backS down!
The genetic zipcode
has travelled over
two (2) continents
on a tight-rope
to say a false/friendly
"Good Morning/Buenos Dias!'"
We serve it up with a side order of MEANS WELL
like the Connecticut River in January
the pieces...peaces
float and bob upward near
cease-fire redemptions
just in case mutual dreams
come to fruition
during the Panasonic night.
Ellen Denise Richardson
10/8/12
Categories:
redemptions, urban,
Form:
Free verse
Lonesome day knocking on the door,
Brand new day crawling on the floor,
Wonder when my fortune
Would be kind to my luck,
Time is chasing
But life just won’t work.
Twilight that guides the shooting star,
Lazy poems to heal the scars,
Was there ever any beginning…
Or is this the end?
But somewhere waits for me,
My dear old friend.
Fortune teller out there selling some dreams,
For a while it makes me forget where I've been,
Life does not offer
All the answers to all the questions,
In the end we are all just tired souls,
Searching for redemptions.
Sail away once again, into the darkness...
Destination nowhere, all along with hopeless,
Sometimes I wonder,
If this life was a mistake?
Dear coldness in sleep,
Please don't leave me awake.
(C) Obaidur Rahman. Published in the poet’s debut book of English poetry titled “The Mystic Inferno” in 2012.
Categories:
redemptions, dark,
Form:
Ballad