Long Preacher Poems
Long Preacher Poems. Below are the most popular long Preacher by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Preacher poems by poem length and keyword.
October loves me
September baby
Virgo across its face
Out of it’s play pen
This child
decides to spin
In a vacant scenery
Thinking back
On what yesterday
meant to me
He’s going on
It won’t be long
As he’s carried home
Don’t you love me sober
Days I’m drifting
Along In October
She just sits there
Someone hold her
Kiss her sober
Missing all the fun
Just growing older
Flowers ale
Roses
Paint you pale
Broken, shapeless
Only strangers notice
The rain
That follows hail
Jesus Seekers
Leaves bristle
Against
a fallen preacher
your father’s gone
Running home
No ones worried
That your gone
Don’t you love me sober
It’s almost over
For days I’m drifting now
Alone in October
Omen
Its coming soon i fear
I can hear the preacher on the corner screaming
" The end is near! "
If he only knew what ive been feeling
in my bones these many years.
All the signs
All the warnings passed down for ages
Scribed by prophets on sacred pages.
The dreams and visions ive been afraid to share
I dont dare
For it is the death sentence for fools
Once again the dunce in the corner
On the lonely stool
How much further can i be cast away
But i have to say
All the bombs and ensuing holocaust
The volcanoes cataclysmic blast
The approaching comet with a target on
Our back
But the fact remains
People will shrug in disdain
Until their final too late moments
Swallowing their agonizing pain
And the preachers screaming fades away
As his voice evaporates in the nuclear fray
His dreams of heaven blown away.
Its mans last thoughts on judgement
day.
To answer why we threw it all away.
Two children walking down the street.
Seven or eight years old, the most that they could be.
Looking through the garbage for something to eat.
They found a half eaten hamburger that was thrown away
This treat would make their day.
They broke it in half , and together they ate
But they had to hurry for it was getting late.
Sooner older kids would be around and they
Knew that they would have to scramble and fight
For every morsel and every bite.
They hurried through the garbage
to see what else they could find.
Then they would have to run and hide.
The older kids would always bully the young
For on the streets this is how it is done.
They found a cup which still had soda and ice
And a small bags of fries
and with that they could get by.
They ran to an abandoned building where they slept
This is where they sat and wept
On a dirty torn mattress, and rags to use as a pillow.
And the sounds of rats in the rafters.
They huddled next to each other, and they began to pray.
This is what their mother showed them before she passed away.
They didn’t have any relatives that they knew of
But they prayed to the one above
For his guidance and his love.
Oh GOD ! We are your children, why do we suffer so?
My sister and I have done nothing wrong.
This is not where we belong.
Mom told us that you watch over all your children
And all we see is poverty and misery.
The older children know how to survive
But we are younger, and we’ll continue to try.
I saw a church just the other day
Which isn’t too far away.
Children playing and having fun
In the sprinklers and away from the sun.
Why can’t we be there?
Maybe some of the toys with us they could share.
This is my prayer for my sister and I
On these streets we do not want to die.
Their prayer had been answered on the same day
When a preacher who had been passing by that way.
He took them in and Fed them, cleansed them
and gave them clothes to wear
And with the other children some toys to share
The brother and sister went to the church
And got down on their knees , and thanked
Their mother who had given them hope
When there was none to be found.
And for telling them that GOD is always near
And listens to every word and every prayer.
HOPE IS THE KEY IF YOU WANT TO BE FREE.
His light shone brightly, like a beacon on a hill
shining forth for all the world to see.
Boldly did he proclaim the gospel, the good news
the very heart and soul of Christianity
Jesus, the Way, the Truth, the Life!
He was a man of conviction, a man of faith
a man of integrity. A man whose words
lit up a fire, a stirring, in the hearts of the masses.
Words from God, Words from the Bible
Words inspired by the Holy Spirit.
He came from humble beginnings
a farmer's son from North Carolina.
Yet God had His eye on him
no ordinary man would he be.
God had a plan for this young man's life
a plan that he could never even imagine.
God raised this man up to become a
preacher among preachers
a modern John the Baptist.
His crusades packed multiple coliseums
the world over, as the words would ring out...
"Repent and be saved! Believe the Bible!
Confess your sins! Ask Christ into your
heart, and He will save you!"
And they would come...
I was a young teenager in the early "70's
when I attended his crusade in Oakland, Ca.
with my family and my best friend.
I had already received Jesus, but my friend
the daughter of a Baptist minister, had not.
But she did that night. She heard the call.
Yes, the call went forth mightily from
that powerful preacher, ringing out,
strong and sure, with conviction.
Many people rose from their seats
and poured down the aisles.
My friend also went down, and I with her.
The choir sang, "Just As I Am".
There were tears, there were praises!
I will never forget that night.
For years, he continued to preach the
gospel message all over the world.
He counseled many generations of
US Presidents, he met with world leaders.
He was truly a man of God.
Today, he finally met his Lord and Savior,
Jesus Christ, face to face.
He had said in the past how much
he looked forward to this day.
And the only thing he wanted to hear
from His Lord was this...
"Well done, thou good and faithful
servant. Enter into the joy of the Lord."
Today, that mighty, yet humble servant
Billy Graham, heard just that.
Today, he is rejoicing with His Savior
in heaven! Praise the Lord!
True love, she's always seeking.
Broke up not too long
Find another who truly loves her
Proposed to her that same year
She's ready, to let go of her past
She was absolutely happy, It's her wedding day
The long waited day, unknowingly to her it's a bad day.
It's her ex
Coming for revenge
Holding unto offense
Ready to defend without pretense
He still love and want her, not ready to let go.
As the preacher man says,
Do you have anything against this union
He stood up and walked majestically
Down the aisle, straight to the altar
Such an hassle, he's a *******
With all eyes on him, he uttered everything
She screamed; nooooo... then she fainted.
~Life Support~
Welcome New Poet To Poetry Soup,
I offer you a warm smile, in hopes you come back another day.
From the moment I spot your name on the new poet list,
I roll out the welcome mat, in hopes you will stay
I am not afraid of you, I will approach you to say hello
I will Annoy you until you stop by and say "YELL-OW!"
Please have patience, when my ink has no flame
Don't be intimidated by The Poet Destroyer's name,
I'm sweet looking like a lollipop and fun like a kitten
"Warning!" Don't get too close or you'll be smitten,
You can choose to adore or instigate petitions of envy
When it comes to PD
Even then I am a friendly poet, protected by God's loving levee
It's time to introduce myself, call me Linda or PD
Unless, you're in constant warfare for the dominance of poetry
Then by all means, express yourself retard-ly
Verbalize my name, in any which way you like
Call me The Poet Destroyer, when tapping the mic
All though many here know I'm more of a Poet Supporter
A comment crusader, a poetic hoarder
I have no shame in my game,
I give, I love, I treat everyone the same
Unwind, Enjoy all the Xoolness coming to your direction
Inspiration, Contest, Friendly Poets, Poems, and Dedications
I am not a mentor, I'm not a preacher advocating the perfect poem
I am me, original as can be, in time you will seek out my troupe
Reminiscing, over the time I was your first,
Regale with loving respect, don't judge my hunger and poetic thirst
To all new poets I promise, I'll be faithful and follow you like a star
Unless, you forget to put gas while side showing in my crystalline car
Don't worry, New Poetic Poe, I got your back
Taunting you with a copy paste smack
Call it a "--Statement--" call it what you want
I call it, Love From PD, enjoying the community
With a simple hello, and peace out spree
CONGRATULATIONS, to all who made it through the years
Ain't nobody here worth more than you and your poetry
Take this time, and introduce yourself my new friend
Remember New Poet:
If it weren't for you, this place would be 2005 all over again
Always & Forever
Age Of Poet Destroyer
6-24-14
Finally
By Franklin Price
3/11/2017
Finally we've made it
To that disappearing day
When the sunrise breaks tomorrow
Time will have gone away
We will have lost an hour
Will be gone without a fight
Saving daylight for the evening
To charge the solar lights
They may now last 'til bedtime
To light the entry walk
To show the way for friends and guests
Who come to visit for a talk
If you forget to jump ahead
If you're late to start the van
You'll have an upset congregation
If you are the preacher man
So don't forget to change the clocks
Before you go to bed
And you'll be on time tomorrow
And not be late instead
My favored Muse
mysteriously asks
muted
kinda sexist
win/lose
either/or
complex bilateral questions.
Oppositional
defiant
nearly despairing quests
exploring why I have yet to find
Faith
Hope
or delightful Joy
as names for a boy
Who might be named
willful Father William
or Pastor warlike Warren
or Patriarchal terrifying Terrence
or even red Deacon Fred's
bruising win/lose plots
against Reverend Bruce.
Vengeance is mine
says retributive justice
Preacher Justin
proclaiming blame
and shame
on monotheistic Religious Teacher
Shane.
Meanwhile
wise elderly EcoFeminists,
warming the pews
and cooperatively co-invested offering plates,
continue singing Joyful journey praises
Of Faith's passionate commitment
inside EarthMother's cathedral Grace
And Hope's sometimes unsisterly
yet sincere advocacy
for paper straws
to win EarthTribe's straining race
against ecocidal ocean polluting
patriarchal time
and desecrating capitalistic
commodifying space
Wherein my favored Muse
mysteriously asks
muted
musical
win/lose
either/or
complex bipartisan questions
of secular health care
and sacred safety shares,
music's dissonant glare,
bemusing bewares.
Spiritual springtime
invites Aunt April
Matriarchal May
Joyful June
While natural full-summered lust
and bustling Buster
fluster hot
sweaty
sometimes angry
idolatrously crusty August
oppression
suppression
repression
Negative impressions
of Winny's winter
wounded
advent womb
Emerging Tiffany's
annual Epiphany,
favoring ecofeminist Muse
mysteriously musing
kinda amusing
win/lose
either/or
complex bipartisan questions.
I deem it important to attend church for my spiritual maturation.
I really savor the fellowship of a loving and caring congregation.
I especially relish the potluck suppers and other social interactions,
But even in this worshipful scenario, there are bound to be distractions!
Now, I don't mind the preacher pounding his pulpit to gain attention,
Or the occasional "amen" from a dear sister for her comprehension,
But that feller across the aisle who always sings off-key and out of tune,
Sounds like a murder of cranky crows or an out of sync bassoon!
I thrill at a great rendition of "How Great Thou Art" by the choir,
And the crescendo of the organ as it grows higher and higher.
Even the woman belting out her mezzo-contralto doesn't bother me so,
But that feller across the aisle who murders "Amazing Grace" has got to go!
I can tolerate little children who holler and scream now and then,
Or the occasional raucous ringing of a cellphone now and again,
But I approach congregational singing with little or no anticipation,
When that feller across the aisle brays, "The Churches One Foundation!"
I don't mind the snoring of the guy who occupies the pew behind me,
And I can abide the pastor's profound homilies to a certain degree.
But how I dread to hear that feller's odious and tuneless strain!
(I suppose I could move to another pew to ease my Sabbath bane!)
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
Having been converted the year before
Dr Graham came over the following year
to preach at Mission England in the UK
Sunderland was the nearest venue I could hear
I decided to spend a week down there
an opportunity to view BG for real
was not disappointed not even a little
for God's presence was there to feel
Cliff Barrows lead the congregation
to sing in unison was so brill
Bev Shea sang solo so wonderful
could hear pin drop so very still
What a privilege to hear the great preacher
Dr Graham spoke with authority so clear
backed by scriptural truths as he said
repeatedly the Bible says so we shouldn't fear
What a blessed week that truly was indeed
that was a week I never will ever forget
watching many respond to God's good news
life's transformed by God's servant on set