Long Blaspheme Poems
Long Blaspheme Poems. Below are the most popular long Blaspheme by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Blaspheme poems by poem length and keyword.
Vain
When you are more beautiful than any thing created
and all gaze upon you, dwelling in your magnificent
with voice confident in the rhythm of poetry
Radiance of your glory shines as you glow in perfection.
Your mind sharp your tongue soothes your words move
Dare to demand to be worshiped forget to serve but your self
Can there be two Gods in one creation?
Never
He must go and kneel before thee.
Lucifer, Lucifer when did you not love Me?
Foolish, proud and wicked your vanity your downfall
Cast out from Heaven and it's gate forever closed against you
those who followed you forever damn
There is no forgiveness for blaspheme
Chained into eternal darkness your body mutilated by sin
Ugliness deforms you
Still your mind corrupts, your voice still heard
Whispers into the hearts of men, evil rules the world.
Not mortal but gods do as you please
Bite the apple of intelligence, open your eyes, see all to see
Knowing all being all
Exists in illusions
all for feelings and pleasures
Words etch into the souls of flesh
There is no man, There is no woman
cleanse the womb before birth
All in all is All
Greed is compassion, as gods you cannot sin.
His beauty deteriorates but the mind sharp
the tongue soothes, words like prose
Lucifer Lucifer do you love me?
I'm afeard of the youngins a followin' us elders
I'm afeard of this world and I pray
That you expose them thar varmit polutitions
Who narry mean nothin they say
And I am old and never had any learnin
So forgive that I can't ritely spell
I jus wanna say the world ain't ok
And in fact it's headed for hell
What in tarnation has happened
Evil lurks round every bend
The folk you once knew as neighbours
Are no longer trustworthy friends
The good folk who do well are silenced
By them thar high monkey monks in command
They have taken over the world
As you bow to their corrupt plan
They have no regard for the Creator
Thar awantin weath an power an acclaim
With no regard for justice
They blaspheme God's Holy name
When I died in 1873
I had no suspect of future event
Now from Heaven I see great atrocities
From a race that is surely Hell bent
On destroying this planet God created
Man persists in polluting His Earth
I cry from my old eyes watching oceans and sky
Being assaulted as though they'd no worth
Where are the defenders of your great nation
They have perished in Wars bravely fought
Soldiers as young as 15 gave their lives and their dreams
In the hope that the goodness they sought
Would be one day enjoyed by you their descendants
Poem by Joan Donnelly Ellis July 4, 2020
Inspired by my Grandfather , Joseph
Sun rays dazzle my eyes,
an ominous dark cloud
penetrates my mind and blinds me.
Groping like a mad person
I search for my elixir,
gulp down the scorching liquid,
curse, pray, blaspheme and plead,
hoping for some insight
into life's mysteries.
The darkness clears momentarily,
a silver lining glows on the horizon,
a handful of ideas come my way.
I grab my journal to scribble away.
My hand trembles,
my stomach aches,
darkness envelops me again.
The moment of inspiration evaporates
as quickly as a pool of water
in an oven on a hot summer day.
I reach out again
only to swallow the burning alcohol
in the hope of drowning my despair.
JERLENE
Acrostic
Jerlene, lovely and beautiful young lady
Your tantalizing eyes enthralls a lonesome heart
Your smile captivates a feeble heart
Allures and fascinates a lonely life.
Every man is found mesmerized
By your God-given angelic beauty divine
A virtue and quality that are sublime
That I saw it in your eyes, from time to time.
Respect, cherish and never blaspheme
The sanctity of love never profane
Treasure in your heart with honesty and probity
Harbor and deeply embed with dignity.
Love is the sweetest joy the wildest foe feeling
Take good care of it and do not disdain
Respect and give a high regard and esteem
In your heart let it forever reign.
Egregious and faithful thou art
Performing your duty with all your might
Carry on the mantle of responsibility in God’s sight
Yours is the reward when the time is right.
Natty, spick-and-span, chastely
Charming replica of Venus the goddess of beauty
Poet’s inspiration that moves his imagination to play
And ask the birds how to chirp, tweet and fly away.
Endearing kindness is a womanly attribution
Enviable characteristic and affection
Virtues you should nourish, possess and nurture
Man who finds this woman finds a great fortune.
I am the eternal, your LOVE
Thou shalt have no other loves before me
Thou shalt not bow down to the image of another love
Nor give your heart and homage to any other than me
For I, your eternal LOVE, am a jealous love
I am the eternal, your LOVE
Thou shalt have no other loves, but ME!
For I will visit with vengeance
if you blaspheme my name
and tarnish my image
by loving one unworthy
I am the eternal, your LOVE
and my love for YOU, is eternal
Eileen Manassian
;) Now, don't go and get yourselves all bent out of shape. This is a different take on the first two commandments. I thought I would take it to stand for Love instead. BTW....the apostle John does state, "God is LOVE." God says that He is a jealous God. Our jealousy is based on feelings of inferiority. We see what others have that is lacking in us, and we burn if we think our loved one is appreciating someone else. However, God's jealousy is based on superiority. He is the best there is, so when we give our love to another, it rouses His jealousy, for He knows we will NOT be satisfied. Isaiah 52: 2- "Why spend money on what is not bread, and your labor on what does not satisfy? Listen, listen to me, and eat what is good, and you will delight in the richest of fare." God insists that He is the best there is.
Taking that concept, I turned it to be the voice of a lover speaking to her loved one for she KNOWS...that there is no other love that can match hers. Too much? You tell me!
Study the ins & outs of
what is you and see
if what you've learned
holds true
You are a book of words
composed of everything
from nouns to verbs
In other words
you personify
what's known
as the All
You are that leaf
on a tree in spring
that drops to the
ground in the fall
You are that summer
rain that turns to snow
when winter season
calls
Collectively
we are all the reason
the world keeps spinning
& have been that
from the beginning
If what I'm saying
is considered sinning
I'll continue to blaspheme
until the whole of HIM
is truly seen
His thunderous voice
screams when one
doesn't recognize
who they truly are
& what their existence
really means
Look in the mirror
to be seen by the eyes
of him patiently watching
& waiting
Waiting for you
to wake up
from the dream
& realize that you are
the golden mean
The light born
from the darkness
in the womb
The darkness
that nurtures the seed
until light helps it
to bloom
You are the sun
at high noon but also
the moon at night
giving light to
nature's room
You're consumed
by him because
you are the fruit
of his tree
You are his seed
that's supposed to grow
to know you are IT
indeed
You are his child
& not in a mild kind
of way but
in a literal sense
because he parents you
night and day
You haven't come
all this way
to minimize your
stay on this screen
where you're
constantly streaming
Remember you're one
with the thing that dreams
of worlds & awakens
to what you're fervently
dreaming
CORNUCOPIA
Let's eat sweets complete
Thanksgiving pies, yum! fruits, nuts, cakes
Unloose belts eats, more. . . .
S-some
W-watch
E-everyone full
E-everywhere-
T-talks
P-people
O-ordinary
T-truly
A-angry
T-towards
O-oppositions
P-principles
I-ingesting all edibles
E-everything
As I rise from the table
I enable
Myself I stretch and scratch and yawn
Think I ate too much food, (sleepy now)
This cornucopia is a horrible disease
Makes me over eat and sneeze
All manner of improper eating we be
Eating the fat of the chicken and lamb
Every holiday seasons
The turkey and ham
Full of sodium gravy
Cornbread, rye breads and maybe
My stomach won't hurt
If I didn't over eat so much, meats and sweets
And my throat won't choke
by the fine bones of the turkey
And every holiday, it's the same old thing
I eat, I eat, eat just over eat
Man Oh! man love me them sweets
Thanksgiving a turkey, Christmas a turkey
It beginning to think that God is a turkey
The way we eat this foul
But I wouldn't blaspheme His name now
Could someone pass me the string beans
This cornucopia sickness here again
I've gain 15 pounds just sitting here
10/31/17
FOR CONTEST: CORNUCOPIA
Sponsored by: Kim Rodeheaver
Form:
Destroyer, discrepancies.
How to sort them out?
Dismantle, then fire post-freeze.
River, run rue rout.
Destrier, to break mid-stride.
Sacrifice a pawn.
Midnight train, buy ticket, ride.
That will mow the lawn.
Priceless? Quite a prize? Surmise.
In passing? En prise.
Ring? Alchemy. Arcane? Rise.
Stifled cries? No lies.
Falconer, thy widening gyre.
Second coming? Now.
Come and see? Fine funeral pyre.
Live wire, take a bow!
Broil and char? From near to far.
Muskellunge and gar.
Peacocks pretty, poison par.
Dream, seem. Lead. Red star.
Serenity? Stable, sage.
Madness, mycophage.
Roundabout, rill. Rusty cage.
Symptoms mad, thy age.
Ark electric, how you burn.
Tones, burst sonic flame.
Mind cartoons? Ashes in urn.
Same game? Claim the name.
Armies, mechanize and wail.
Never end, our tale.
Weak resistance stale, you fail.
Blaspheme, boil and bail.
Silver, sickles. Red regrets.
Automaton, glean:
He who risks it all once bets.
Wind and wintergreen...
Pounding at the resonant head
of my chest—he of hunger
latches his fangs just beneath my jaw—
not to sever silence, but to pummel poison.
Tissue parts with wet reluctance,
he with need more than malice
burrows into the larynx of what
was once controlled, fearful sound.
Nameless, shapeless he who
with shark-possessed teeth does not ravage—
but infiltrates—peeling cartilage from confession,
mining marrow-thoughts clogged in
curse-traversed trachea.
I am a conduit split open—
voice extracted in ligaments,
fibrous and twitching,
stripped from the cords—
myofibrils separatus tendon.
Nameless, shapeless he!
How does he so musically reshape
what I cannot say?
How does he gut syllables
I do not recognize—
yet still, convince me
they are mine?
With his guiding talons,
my breath comes out red,
heavier than blood—
tastes of steel-bitten soul—
boiled vowels
that never knew air
but somehow rise.
His incantation:
Spiritus somni!
Spits into my mouth—
a blessing—not!
a summons—not!
but a shameful dream behind my teeth
like bruises that speak sermons.
Nameless, shapeless he…
He says I was never mute—
only sealed for some latter doomsday…
And now, with my throat laid open like a shrine,
he listens as I blaspheme
my dream.
The church I went to as a teenager
was full of sex.
It seeped through the worn wooden pews
into the pours of our skin
It filtered through the sunlit air.
The aroma of young girls at prayer
was overpowering for an adolescent boy,
yet only now in my own old age
do I recall how the older members
of that congregation,
how with closed eyes and backs arched,
seemed to be holding onto
some sudden and unexpected arousal;
that orgasmic instant
was called ‘feeling the Spirit of the lord,’
a sort of magnetic and divine experience,
but now I know it as
that very same energy as sexual pleasure,
and consider this ‘knowing’ as not a blaspheme
but a gifted glory
one just as powerful as prayer
and capable of a much greater holiness.