Best Religous Poems


Premium Member Easter - the Son Rises

Easter - The SON Rises!

Friday comes,
The SON struggles
The cross weighs
On his back, bare

On the cross
The SON rises
The earth shakes
Then the SON, sleeps

Daylight comes,
The sun rises
Easter comes,
The SON rises,

Mid day comes.
The sun rises.
Easter hears
The SON speak

Twilight comes
The sun sets
Easter ends
The SON Rises!

Comments: This is my Easter poem.  Started around Easter, I’m happy to finish it.  All these years later, I’m still hopeful and Catholic at heart.  FEEDBACK WELCOME

NoelsArt

Religous Silence

I am so drunk already reading all this religious tripe n nonsense 
Give us all please - a rest !

Never trust a man who doesn’t drink
He is probably a righteous sort
A man who thinks he knows right from wrong
Some of them are good men
But in the name of goodness 
They cause most of the suffering in the world
They are the judges
The meddlers
Never trust a man who refuses to get drunk
They are usually afraid of something  deep down inside 
Of themselves 
You can’t trust a man who’s afraid of himself
They are either a cowards or a fools
Forgive my arrogance 
but I speak the truth
I am wiser than all religious folk
because neither of us know anything of the great or the good 
but they fancy they know something 
as I do not know anything so I do not fancy to say so
Yet I appear to be wiser than them because I know what I do not know
© Nigel Fox  Create an image from this poem.

Religous Silence

I am so drunk already reading all this religious tripe n nonsense 
Give us all please - a rest !

Never trust a man who doesn’t drink
He is probably a righteous sort
A man who thinks he knows right from wrong
Some of them are good men
But in the name of goodness 
They cause most of the suffering in the world
They are the judges
The meddlers
Never trust a man who refuses to get drunk
They are usually afraid of something  deep down inside 
Of themselves 
You can’t trust a man who’s afraid of himself
They are either a cowards or a fools
Forgive my arrogance 
but I speak the truth
I am wiser than all religious folk
because neither of us know anything of the great or the good 
but they fancy they know something 
as I do not know anything so I do not fancy to say so !

Yet I appear to be wiser than them because I know what I do not know !
© Nigel Fox  Create an image from this poem.


Enthusaistic Looking Religous People

[the Egyptians are extremely interesting to us today
for various reasons.  How science today wishes to 
understand the secret ingredients where that the Egyptians 
used when they wrapped up dead people so that their faces 
would not rot for innumerable centuries.]

LIKE SILVER BIRDS before the wind
enthusiastic looking religious people who sit in sky seats.

The germs breaking out of mankind with lumps of famous bronze.

They will clear up your guts.

Say, 'shh.'  The corduroy forest is luscious and black smoke 
of the lamp.  Dots of red ants are upon the Letter we Opened.

They build trampolines in the dish but we have forgotten.
To not be able to shake the wrinkles off of time and memories.

How they watch and laugh!
Look, there is something we all want.

It has steps.

Here is the key:

"Shh."

The stoat jumps out of the fur and runs away to catch the scent.

Shh.  -- only for a moment then from behind the awful gilt wings of a magnificent
palace of life shall be painted on the blackened door.  And when it is done it will
be our palace of course.  Bluebells, bluebells, bluebells of hundreds--like far-off suns--
hand strayed from that beaten path.

:: 03.18.2022 ::

The Third Option

There was a dreary blip in my life
I feared two depressing outcomes

The first, hell
I separate myself from societal pressures
I accept who I am
I let go of all that abuse that has kept me who I was
I let go of hiding behind a hundred carefully tailored masks
Just so one may approve of me
But in return
I risk burning in depths of hell for eternity
And all the days of my life are spent regretting
That fateful decision

That is scary
So scary

The latter, suppression and hell combined
I continue to clothe myself in lies
To satisfy society
I refrain from feminity
I continue to practice speaking, clothing and loving in a way that does not suit me
I continue to feel uncomfortable in my own body
And perhaps I still burn in the depths of hell for hiding my true self
For lying to so many when they ask who I am

I finally made my decision
I finally feel right
No longer must I lie and deceit my identity
And as I ask God to cure me of all my evils
I realize he has delivered
I finally am happy and free

And I speak to my pastor
Who I very well know may call me a sinner

I have been called slurs, to be put to death, to be put in camps, unloved, mentally ill, a crime

But my friends I thank the Lord for his guidance and truth
For amongst all these problems
I shout from the mountaintops
My Church and faith are not one of them

Dear Soul

Oh soul do you not know your name? 
And tell me who it is to blame 
You were made with a will so free 
What made you trade eternity?
You came to earth with truth inside
But clothed in flesh the truth could hide.
You chased the world, you played its part
And traded truth to feed the heart.
You dressed in crowns you smiled you sold
But every gain just made you cold
You touched the gold it turned to sand.
You begged for love from broken hands.
O soul do you not feel the ache?
The hunger none on earth can break
The point of pain is to crack the shell
And show the lie you wore so well.
The heart was meant to be a glass 
Reflecting Light nothing else could pass.
But when it fills with sin and stain
The soul forgets and calls it gain.
O soul, the gate has not been closed.
The One you left has always known.
Each tear you shed each breath you waste 
He counts them all He still gives grace 
So go now walk with slower feet
Humbled crumbled feeling weak
Cry to fill a river deep 
Call a prayer the lost may seek
So rise not proud but low and bare.
Let longing be your only prayer.
O Protector of souls, O Light of lights
Pull me through these darkened nights
Unchain my heart from lowly sights
And help me with Your Endless Might.
© Sarah Abar  Create an image from this poem.


The Sound of Temple Bell Brings Me Peace

the sound of  temple bell brings me peace writing.com prompt

the sound of a temple bell
ringing in the crisp mountain air
in the buddhist temple
deep in the mountains

brings me peace
and joy
and fills me with happiness
as I contemplate
the meaning of buddha

and seek to find 
peace 
in the everyday life
around me

and I ring the bell 
again
wishing hoping
for an end 

to our suffering
on this planet 
of ours
© Jake Aller  Create an image from this poem.

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