Best Tithing Poems
He served as a deacon in his church and was as pious as they come.
(But on the side, he sold whiskey from a thirty-gallon drum!)
He taught the junior high Sunday school class and was a Bible scholar.
(But on the side, he 'stilled' moonshine way back up in the holler!)
He was faithful in tithing ten percent of his ill-gotten gain.
(For his John Barleycorn he used only the best obtainable grain!)
He occupied the same pew every Sunday listening with attentive ear.
(It was rumored about that he also brewed some very potent beer!)
He proffered an "amen" at appropriate times and wore a suit and tie.
(He was renowned throughout the county for his very delectable rye!)
His tenor voice blended well when singing, "I Love Thy Kingdom, Lord."
(On back roads he did a bit of bootlegging in his hopped-up V-8 Ford!)
He was the first to offer succor to widows, orphans and others left bereft.
(He'd run his still for years - at evading "revenooers" he was very deft!)
When folks were needed to serve on committees he was first to volunteer.
(When asked his occupation he replied, "I'm a 'Spirit'ual Engineer!")
At Yuletide he was generous with the parson giving him a beef, cash and pork.
(At the annual church picnic he surreptitiously passed a bottle to uncork!)
There couldn't be found a finer saint in all of Boondock County, Kentucky.
(He'll continue to "minister" to parched throats thereabouts - if he's lucky!)
Entry for Tania Kitchin's "Primiere Trophy Contest" Contest
This poem is worthy of a Primiere Trophy since it won First Place in the Poetry Soup International Poetry Contest in April 2011. (Won $50 and an Outstanding Poetic Achievement Certificate).
Categories:
tithing, funny,
Form:
Rhyme
Written: December 15, 2023
_____________________________________________
It is undeniable that anguish prevails
It hovers close to a lilting voice
There are no strains to rejoice
Once the beat soars, its genesis tweaks.
Giving alms is obvious
Beyond the ethics of the tithing ritual
Coins jingle, evoking a sound
A decrease in the supply of food.
Newborns lack hearing and verbal ability
The elderly sage dresses chaotically
Elfin babies desire soft touch and warmth
Akin to their late mother's calming palm.
Completely lacking in decency
Deep, the ears were concealed
Whilst untamed jaws sow turmoil
It sinks as a modest, rusted nail.
The crowd heartily jeered
Tears fell over their faces relentlessly
Failure was diligently earned
Mass disgust reached high levels.
The whips roared with mirth
Frames grudgingly bore this duty
Correct ideals will be reinstated
Inept debt must be repaid in full.
Categories:
tithing, analogy, bereavement, confusion, hope,
Form:
Free verse
A dime out of every dollar, a penny out of every dime;
I only want My children to give Me what is Mine.
I blessed you with a job, it pays good wages too!
And all I ask you to give Me is the ten percent I am due.
I promised you in My Word, that I would bless your finances,
If only you would put me first in all your circumstances.
If you would acknowledge Me in all of your ways,
Then I will give an increase and bless your remaining days.
If only you will trust Me, and believe what I say;
Then bring your tithe and offering to My house today.
I'll open up the windows of Heaven and you will plainly see,
How to prosper and be successful, and be a blessing to Me.
I am waiting for you,
I am just around the bend.
And when you make one hundred;
Remember, I am only asking for ten!!
GOD
Categories:
tithing, blessing, inspirational,
Form:
Rhyme
The pastor was feeling quite blue,
Pennies on his plate were few,
So he gave a blazing rendition
On the church's tithing tradition
And the pennies on his plate soon grew.
Categories:
tithing, funny, religion,
Form:
Limerick
When the sands of life run out for me
And I'm about to die,
Will St. Peter say "Come in, Ma'am,
If I bring a piece of pie?
Gravensteins from my own orchard
Are the apples I lke best,
With sugar, cinnamon, butter, flour.
Recipe on request.
I handle the crust carefully
To preserve the tender taste
And delectable deliciousness.
Not one crumb should go to waste.
I learned the process from my mom
Who learned it from her ma.
Grandma honed her skills a lifetime
Making pies for my grandpa
Who was connoisseur of pie
And ate it every day,
Wanting fresh pie for his breakfast,
Not stale slice from yesterday.
Grandpa's hankering for pie, perhaps
Brought him to early grave.
Dad said if pie should bring him harm,
He'd just try to be brave.
My apple tree is bearing
An unusually big crop.
My family is clamoring
For apple pie non-stop.
Last week I had no money
When the tithing plate came by.
I hoped no one was looking as
I left an apple pie.
This week a plumper minister
Could not quite meet my eye,
But when my money hit the plate
I'm sure I saw him cry.
If you think I am just bragging
About my luscious pie,
I'm taking one from oven now.
You're welcome to stop by.
For Linda Marie's contest. "Dreamy Desserts"
Placed 8th
Categories:
tithing, food
Form:
Narrative
~The Evil Fairy And the Vengeful Leprechaun~
Late at Night while the chickadees go quiver
A fairy of the forest has fastened to her heart
A bog-reed arrow, white wash dipped in flint
She dances yes she dances, in a conical red cap
Tithing the sundown, to a leprechauns demise;
Not a stranger to mischief, she steels his golden pot
She stitches up his wishes, and spikes his felted hat
She glues his silver buckles up his nose in, far remote
She sticks him on a clover, stewing mad n’ boiling hot
By; Mystic Rose
Early Morning, under the fogs rainbow, twisting and twisting his nose
Little does she know, Lepree's a madman with his own games
Sitting and brewing with a grin, he awaits the chemicals to kick in
A price to pay for stealing Lepree's gold, in such a golden way
He yells and cries, "I hope you dance, rapid like the river away!"
Fairies don't exist! Fairies don't exist! -----A quiver in the chest
For we all know when speaking them words, somewhere out there
A fairy dies, ----shillings from his silver tongue he spoke
A million times Lepree cried "Fairy don't exist!" suddenly--she drops;
By; Poet Destroyer
~A Poet Destroyer Collaboration~
Categories:
tithing, abuse, conflict, corruption, evil,
Form:
Free verse
It was a dazzling day.
In the park where we gathered.
I watched the sprinkler spray.
Whilst Oleander got lathered.
A pierce of minty laughter.
Came from my mother.
The day, now full swelter.
Brought mephitic curses, from father.
My mother,
A piece, of distinct edges, shapes, and color.
My Father’s piece,
Gossamer... A ghost in the Parlor.
My aunt buzzes ‘round,
Looking to peck.
Her greatest skill,
Tearing wealth from flesh.
She is an ugly thing,
Constantly tithing kin.
Her tabs busted,
Only darkness within.
My uncle walks water,
Crying divine inspired droll.
Then he sees foreign breasts,
And his eyes start to roll.
He is piously loathsome,
A delusional winner.
His piece, contrasting color,
A chronic Casanova of a sinner.
My grandmother sits,
By a row of briar’s.
From here smelling sweet,
Closer and the peril gets dire.
She is a dandy,
Addicting to be around.
But when her corner piece shows,
It can cut to the ground.
My grandfather rests,
In the middle, on a bench.
The tether that keeps,
We are bolts, He is wrench.
His piece.....
To us much renowned.
His piece is the core,
It holds me around.
There it is, my family puzzle.
And on the fringes I sit.
See, I’m an edge piece,
That doesn’t quite fit.
With my teeth on a muzzle.
03/04/13
Categories:
tithing, confusion, dark, family, grandmother,
Form:
Narrative
Some say Heaven
Is just a myth
While many others
Know it's really lifes greatest gift
I come to sit in the back pew
Every Sunday at 9
Tithing in hope, in hope I can find
A little bit of pick me up, in this
World that's gone wrong
So tell me..
What will I lose, even if I'm wrong
If the good book wasn't written
How would a man atone
And I'll admit I'm a sinner, in this
World full of sin
I can't imagine
Giving up my only son
To have him shed his blood
Even if it's for eternal love
Seems I have all kind of friends
Who say I'm wasting my time
Praying to some fictional guy
But I know hell is compelled to make
Me think that I'm wrong
So tell me..
What will I lose, even if I'm wrong
If the good book wasn't written
How would a man atone
And I'll admit I'm a sinner, in this
World full of sin
If the good book isn't right
At least I'll live a life
In a way I can hang my hat on
So let me ask you, what do I have to lose
Even if I'm wrong
Live the way you want too
But what will I lose... even if I'm wrong
Categories:
tithing, bible, conflict, heaven, life,
Form:
Lyric
The monitor beeps,
With each caged breath,
And labored heartbeat.
Snow piles in drifts, cars crawl with fear,
December outside,
December in here.
Candle wax drips, telling a tale of time,
If only it were faster,
Too end this torturous bind.
Bound and broken for far too long,
Family tithing for misery,
Hoping for better days, maybe even a song.
Delusions of hope for some selfish needs,
To reconcile future false void,
That should be filled with a man's life deeds.
His gaolers break down and frequently have cried,
Keeping body preserved,
While essence has long died.
Holding on to mortal coil, waiting for the dawn.
With spirit eternally withdrawn,
The total man long gone.
A younger turnkey came asking "What can I do?"
"Quit crying, go away,
Let me have my due."
Sunken eyes devoid of light, curdled skin, and feeble bone.
"You are holding on to nothing."
The man has long since flown.
"Everyone dies alone."
-Comments are appreciated.
Categories:
tithing, death, december,
Form:
Rhyme
WHERE ARE THEY?
Where are the tear-stained altars that once we used to see,
Where people came repenting and weeping there to be?
Where are the sawdust trails, the tents and open air,
Where the Holy Spirit’s presence could really be felt there?
Where are the bold, loud preachers who weren’t afraid to say
What sin was without favor, of the straight and narrow way?
Where are the old-time singers who weren’t so dignified
With clothes that looked like fashions from the world’s sinful pride?
Where are the plain, old Bibles that showed their wear and tear
From people who would read them and study truths from there?
Where are the prayer meetings when in small groups they met
And poured their hearts in earnest, not one did they forget?
Where are the sold-out Christians who came so faithfully,
On Sunday and on Wednesday their faces we would see?
Where are all of the workers? And where is tithing still?
And where are there just people so eager to do God’s will?
Where are they? I just wonder, but yet I know today
God told me it was coming; soon it would be that way.
If we really want revival in our wicked land today,
It’s time we asked these questions—these questions, WHERE ARE THEY?
For only will revival, for which we now do lack,
Will ever be for real when these things we all bring back.
Categories:
tithing, christian, how i feel,
Form:
Rhyme
Pharisee went into the Temple to pray
Sure of his goodness and love for God
He prayed confidently about his deeds
Fasting, tithing, praying, He did faithfully
This man was glad when the sinner came
Into the Temple with eyes downcast.
For it gave a perfect contrast to himself.
So he thanked God he wasn't like this sinner.
Sinner was bowed so very low before God.
"God have mercy on me a sinner." he whispered.
No list of good uttered, as he could see none.
Jesus said Sinner not Pharisee was justified.
Simon the Pharisee invited Jesus over to eat.
Simon didn't have servants wash Jesus feet
He didn't kiss Jesus or draw near for fear,
Fear of what others Pharisees would think.
In came a sinful woman with unkempt hair.
She wept at Jesus feet without looking up.
Carefully she wiped these feet with her hair.
Simon was now sure Jesus was no prophet
A prophet could surely tell she was a sinner.
How could he let her touch him that way?
Reading Simon's thoughts Jesus taught.
Using this contrast in real life as a lesson.
He asked Simon if there were two debts
One greater, one lesser and both forgiven.
Who would feel greater love and gratitude?
Simon replied, "The one whose debt was greater"
"Correct" said the One who would pay all debts.
Those who know their debt to God is great.
Are filled with greater love toward the Savior.
Simon showed he had little need for the Christ.
But to the woman. Jesus said, "You sins are forgiven."
"Go and sin no more." She stood free and esteemed
Precious are those who come humbly to the Lord
He will forgive and welcome them to His Family forever.
Humility. Pride. Contrast. Mixed in all of us.
People who come to God feeling worthless, Christ lifts up.
People striding in proudly, Jesus humbles to allow entry.
For the Lord's Kingdom's door is incredibly low.
So low that we enter only through true confession
From the heart to Jesus as Savior who humbled Himself
Coming down from glory to earth's mess to make a Way.
By humbling Himself on a Cross – Universe's God tortured.
Jesus contrast makes ours seem small – so why wait?
May we take the humble road to Life, risen Christ made.
Joining God's family of forgiven, freed, joyful sinners.
New life's contrast with old will grow as we follow Him.
By a thankful sinner now saint by Jesus' grace
Categories:
tithing, christian, forgiveness, god, heaven,
Form:
Prose Poetry
My Lover’s heartfelt tithing setting by my bedside looms.
For his comment undermining, gave a gift of Lily blooms,
but the bouquet ever blossoms off intoxicating fumes
and the blunder of my Lover unbeknownst becomes my doom….
What augurs well, perchance foretell! The Lilies shroud my tomb?
So drifting off through slumber soft my summer sloth descends
into the blue, the muddled hue before the black begins
and dreams supreme replaced by screams as Nightmare settles in.
For if I die before I wake, eternity to spend!
I pray my Love, my Soul, to take the lilies back again.
Categories:
tithing, flower,
Form:
Rhyme
Sin took away your Holy Spirit
Sin took away my Will
Sin took away my Praying
Sin took away my Fasting
Sin took away my Tithing
But Sin could not take away your Word In My Heart
Categories:
tithing, africa, allah, arabic, bible,
Form:
Free verse
I've grown tired of feeling dead and of making the wrong choices
so I've decided to choose life and to take heed of the heavenly voices
I've made so many decisions that were spiritually wrong
for I did not take them before the altar of God where they first belonged
God wants us to choose life and to live our lives in the blessing
and desires that we have an existence that is free of anxious stressing
to think right, to eat right and to do what's godly in mind
to love one another, to respect each other and be a reflection of God's kind
to make the right choices in order to determine one's life course
to do what is necessary to continue one's life force
to making the right decisions that will leave a lasting legacy
to making the right choices that will insure man's continuity
to look beyond one's self and towards the future generation
to choose life and not death for all of creation
Jesus said "step forth" to that man with the withered hand
and then He asked the crowd of on-lookers of His actions "did they understand?
He wanted to know if they were accepting of what He was about to do
If it was more godly to choose life and not man's laws in full view
a critical moment awaited, a decision needed to be defined
to choose life over death He wanted to know what was on their mind
God wants us to step forward and choose life in our finances, fitness and faith
God wants us to be healed in every aspect of living that we undertake
to stretch out our hands to Him in faith whenever He does call
to trust that He will lift us up by His grace if we should fall
to step forward with a desire to be more healthy and physically fit
to choose life and have discipline with our bodies and our spirits
to step forward and believe that He will preside over our financial predicaments
and trusting in Him to provide by tithing to Him our ten percent
to step forward and make the right choice by choosing life
to step forward and stretch out our hands to be healed by Jesus the Christ
Categories:
tithing, faith, health, hope, inspirational,
Form:
Didactic
Like bakers kneading moments for their draught,
that using once, discard for the new taught,
is wisdom learned mistaking from honed sought,
nor guilt could so define, for none is wrought.
A newness of prevailing is condensed,
from virtues needing tithing, thereby naught,
as even sin unconquered leaves it ought,
so building in thy grace, would seem as sensed.
Design of living's faith, not piled or fenced
has no regard for guessing - love not dense
is as the widow's coffin, fully whence
love meant to love as endless, no expense.
To love so, ne'er durations's increments,
but true eternal posting, new ... intense!
Categories:
tithing, love, love,
Form:
Rhyme