Long Chapter and verse Poems
Long Chapter and verse Poems. Below are the most popular long Chapter and verse by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Chapter and verse poems by poem length and keyword.
Jesus became a curse for those-
All who call upon His name.
He died for our sin, then arose,
Our lives He fought to reclaim.
Isaiah 53 foretold
His commitment to God's will.
He has removed sin's stranglehold,
Thus, fulfilling God's goodwill.
Jesus is the Way and the Life,
The path that guides and sustains,
When fear and trials are causing strife,
For temptation still remains.
Yet nothing like sin's stranglehold,
For the sinner's curse remains.
Its end always the way of death-
Man's works won't remove sin-stains.
His attempts to defeat the curse,
Just makes his punishment worse.
Though quoted both chapter and verse,
He clings to what is perverse.
"Because of their temerity,
The innocent reap distress.
I curse them for barbarity,
But their victims I will bless."
"I heard your prayer for a curse-
Just cause and faith attended.
Your request, I am not averse-
Space to repent rescinded.
I will stir their greed and malice
And cause their schemes to collapse.
With hearts and minds hardened, callous,
I'll bait them into My traps.
The empty fig tree stands smirking-
Its leaders have turned beastly.
Watch them to see its outworking-
Watch them ruined completely."
I've never been to Kathmandu
it's highly unlikely I'm ever going to
and I don't consider macaques the least bit holy
while some there choose so to do
tho' they may be Nepalese aristocracy
no they won't make a monkey of me
such couldn't leave me any colder
as it's all in the mind's eye of the beholder
and who decides what is 'God'
of all possibilities chapter and verse in the universe
why give such Old World primates the nod
how about a slug or a ladybug
polyphyly and insects are equally relevant too
in fact if we're allegedly created in 'His' likeness
why not me... or even you?
He spoke to me of spirituality as life’s sole reality.
Mumbling in my sleepless sleep I pondered his disparate thought
for I could quote chapter and verse and blindly curse
all manner of religions gold and silver pomp and ceremony.
Until I touched the hem of tattered lives in passing
through dim slow darkened dens cold threadbare promises of hope
rescued by a fragile gestures welcome beneath a fraying trust
sunrise breaking weakly warm across a dark and troubled horizon
teasing my sleepless thoughts with the aroma of awakenings doubt.
He spoke to me of spirituality thus changing my reality.
©1/14/2019
10 Lines 10 Words, Free Verse 1 Poetry Contest
sponsor – Lu Loo
There is a boy called Rick
who who took to hurling; with bricks'
He let loose with a low'un,
It looked like it was throw'un
And knocked pastor down into the c'rick.'
The pastor fell backward right in'
He never, had learn't quite how to swim'
He sat on his behind,
and thought wasThis a sign,
that some heathen Had targeted him?
He attempted to climb up the bank
Thinking I'd better try stopping this crank'
As he got to the top,
a girt blooming rock'
Hit him straight in the chapter and verse
Some money spilled out of that purse,
Not too thrilled And now feeling much worse,
He let out a prayer
Asking everyone there
If there was a nearby; district nurse?
Chapter and Verse
Borrowed words
Overdue loans
On faded words
Tears melting ink
Wisdom's die
Collection time
Bankrupt soul
With no words to share
Overdue books
Wine splashes the pages
Of my mind
Melancholy whispers to me
Here, here
The past sings me a song
Withered books
Our collective memories
Buried in the pages of history
Sad Chapters
I danced
I drank
Love and wine
Penelope Sosa
Stole heart and mind
Debts paid
Her beauty refined
Lonely betrayal
I dine on sad chapters
As wine still splashes the page
The last Verse
Mathematical potions
Equations that dream
A soft kiss lade upon my sleeping heart
Is it you? Is it you that lightens my soul?
Spread your wings for me
I shall smell the sweet scent
Of your poetic juices
As we lay entwined
Inside the last verse
The Christian life is not robotic
The Kingdom of God is very organic.
It is not "do this and you will get that"
But a Seed of life on His welcome mat.
It's not "do good and you'll get good"
But feeding from Jesus the heavenly food.
It's not "do bad and you'll get bad"
But hearing the warnings from his red flags.
It's not by principles or law based keeping
but letting seed grow, while you are sleeping.
We're not asking God to create the external
For we already have what we need internal.
I's not a structure you build so well
but a tree that grows; cell by cell.
It's not that you know each chapter and verse
But an agreeing heart to His voice you've heard
It's not a formula that you can do
But agreement to the Life inside of you.
The Kingdom of God is not for mechanics
But tillers of soil who love organics.
The Kingdom of God is not cause and effect
But seed and harvest for God's elect.
About 600 BC sailors went down the East African shore
A Pharoah had sent them, afraid of an oncoming war
They rounded the coast at the African horn
Astonished at what they saw that morn.
The sun arced in the north, it just couldn’t be
The earth was flat in those days, everyone did agree.
When they reached home, the crowds didn't believe
But it’s exactly the reason we know they didn't deceive
They had passed the equator, of a world that was a sphere
It shows that away from the front, we should trust what we hear.
A unit of Jewish women saw Hamas soldiers rehearse
To take hostages, blow up fences, they reported chapter and verse
But their superiors didn’t believe them, told them to be silent
The result of this skepticism was incredibly violent
On the seventh day, seventeen of them were killed
Hamas filmed on their go-pros, so much blood spilled
To Hamas liberation, but I shake my heads at that day
Israeli dogma near the top meant quite a price to pay.
Pilots warned of safety concerns at a D.C airport for many years
Near misses with helicopters was the source of their fears
One captain said he could not imagine what kind of designer
Could let helicopters cross the paths of a crowded airliner.
Then a helicopter collided with American airlines 5342
67 died, figure skaters, coaches and an engineer too
Friends who had gone duck hunting in Kansas, didn’t think they would die
Because of an avoidable burst of flame in the sky.
Our hierarchy should be inverted, the hands-on types know more:
the people at the scene, the sailors by the shore
From cockpits and borders to decks on the sea
The front line sees first what the future will be
The theorists in their armchairs, the truth they must seek
We need to bypass them, link the base to the peak.
My Kingdom
For a verse
Worthy of note
A poignant stanza
Recited before a willing audience
My Kingdom
For the words
Etched on an unmarked grave
Moss won't grow over
Because it's visited
Time to time
Read chapter and verse
As it nurses the soul
Of the lost dead poet's
Who congregate at midnight
Feasting on the shards of fame
That never came calling
Beset rather by Crippling writers depression
Dead before deciphering the lesson
My kingdom
I tried
But cold and wet
Looking for a phone box for shelter
In search of finery
I sink blessed without even a coin
My damp hand clenched into a pocket full of hole's
For bus fare home
My kingdom
For a happy end
‘Tis not for the ninety and nine He goes
On a dangerous midnight search.
’Tis not for the ninety and nine who sit
In security safe in the church,
Whose paths are set in the well-fenced bounds
Of conventional Sunday suits,
While the songs of their souls sound dreadfully cold
To the biker in leathers and boots.
‘Tis not for the ninety and nine good folk
Who chapter and verse freely quote,
Nor those who appear so exactly sincere
As their Bible-text pencils take notes.
‘Tis not for the multitude stuck in the fold
That the Shepherd is mostly concerned –
But for wanderers lost in the soft ways of sin,
Jesus’ eye with compassion-light burns.
For the sinner perplexed by the pattern of life,
For the one from the hundred astray,
For the one who’s abandoned the standards of God,
Determined to go his own way,
For the one who has tasted the sweetness of sin,
And discovered how quick it decays –
’Twas for him that the Shepherd went out in the night
Of that sin-uttered “Crucify!” Day.
What love! What compassion! What limitless care
In His seeking for one who is lost!
Oh, what infinite pity must quicken His heart
To go out on that search at such cost!
And the organ plays softly,
The hymn board is fixed,
The offering taken for mortar and bricks,
And so few in the pew
For sinners will search,
For the Shepherd, like them,
They have shut in the church.
John Puckett
When a rather unconventional young biker man began coming to the morning service of a traditional chapel some years ago, I was struck with how easy it is for us in our churches to become self-contained and self-content.
That life is a struggle, there's no denying
when the distance between light and dark
is just one misstep across the boundary line
Problematic for mankind since time began
Prompted by the reminder of crows flying
I have need to heed his words in the great book
There's truth there to find courage and strength
Armor and shield to prepare me for the fight
In chapter and verse I found it when I searched
for the way out, a way to escape the sea of madness
I pray not to get lost in the dark swells I abhor
It's the only way to assure my soul's salvation
Ravens roost there, in a forest of leafless trees
where damnation spills its virulent seeds
There, in the shadows of the valley of death—
like carrion for the picking, is how they see me
Blackguard avians wanting to spread their disease
Beady eyes following me as I walk through the mist
Waiting like vultures for me to take my last breath
To save myself from plight of battle and eternal death
I pray to defeat the demons crying out for me,
concentrate on the consciousness of mind over matter
and denounce the thought of "What will be, will be."
I must avoid the darkness for in its shadows, sings
the ruthless caws of ravens, fluttering their black wings
I've come to despise the sound of their beastly cries
Behind me the sound arises again, that baleful cawing
and ominous sight; the murder of crows taking flight
Overhead, they squawk a challenge with talons clawing
but I will face the soulless demons that tyrannise me
To their offers of temptation, I vow never to succumb
for a sin it would be to forsake my will to remain free