Long Second coming Poems
Long Second coming Poems. Below are the most popular long Second coming by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Second coming poems by poem length and keyword.
Final Prophecy
by Michael R. Burch
Listen to me now and heed my voice;
I am a madman, alone, screaming in the wilderness,
but listen now.
Listen to me now, and if I say
that black is black, and white is white, and in between lies gray,
I have no choice.
Does a madman choose his words? They come to him,
the moon's illuminations, intimations of the wind,
and he must speak.
But listen to me now, and if you hear
the tolling of the judgment bell, and if its tone is clear,
then do not tarry,
but listen, or cut off your ears, for I Am weary.
***
Published by Penny Dreadful, The HyperTexts, the Anthologise Committee and Nonsuch High School for Girls (Surrey, England)
Keywords/Tags: Listen, heed, prophet, cry, crying, wilderness, voice, vision, visionary, dream, prophecy, judgment, judgement, warning, apocalypse, belief, baptist, baptism, proclamation, teacher, black, white, gray, moon, wind, speak, speaking, speech, instruction, teaching, omen, illuminations, intimations, ears, hear, bell, toll, tolling, peal, pealing, tone, I, Am, god, messiah, religion, spirituality, oracle, seer, sage, precognition, foretelling
Note: The poet as a "madman, alone, crying in the wilderness" is likened to John the Baptist, foretelling a momentous "second coming": his own, with no other Messiah in sight.
Written By: D. Collins 8/23/19
The same ego maniac who thought nothing would stick.
Had no clue of the conviction we are working with.
We are coming to get him. He had best believe that.
"The Chosen One" will have his face in Big Bubba's lap.
"The Second Coming of God" will hit a dead end street.
When he discovers the world is more than Israelis.
He'll see people of color, in many shades and hues.
A world of many religions besides Christians and Jews.
The Teflon Don feels that he cannot be touched.
Well, that ignorant MF hasn't met a crew like us.
We're the American People, and we don't take no sh _ _.
And, we don't even care if it is the President.
He will soon see us, and feel all of our might.
Then, we as a people, can set everything right.
The People are coming with vengeance on our mind.
And, that pound of flesh, will be yours, this time.
The Teflon Don will soon become Gorilla Glue.
Where every dirty little deed is going to stick to you.
The State of New York is actually stalking it's prey.
The People will get every bit of theirs on Election Day.
The world is in the shape that it was back during the days of Noah and the flood.
When the end of time arrives, the moon will turn to blood.
When Judgment Day arrives, people will rise from their graves.
People can have eternal life but only if they have been saved.
People should be prepared because the Second Coming may be near.
When the end comes, people will try to hide from God because of their fear.
After people have been judged by The Lord, it will be the beginning of world peace.
People will be happy when they're reunited with their loved ones who are deceased.
The moon will be gone but I will be reunited with my mother.
When the end comes, she and I will be happy to see each other.
You can be found
somewhere underneath
the mask of
the mundane
On that plane
beneath the sheets
that cover your face
is the real you
The truth many don't see
because you hide behind
a false reality pretending
to be true
You developed a face
in your youth
that protected you
from a world that
couldn't see
You were free
once upon a time
before the ties that bind
attached & took hold
The bold soul that came
through the portal
of what's called mom
now dons a mortal frame
You were never the same
after crossing the threshold
of that door
What's more important
is the fact that you've
forgotten you're
more than this shell
A telling story of a soul
with more stories to tell
than it can remember
You fell faster than
a woodsman could
yell timber in a forest
surrounded by a
chorus of trees
That left you in a place
that leaves
nothing to salvage
but salvation lies within
The second coming
is a journey that begins
with steps toward
your true inception
Your true resurrection
is a shift in perception
of how you came to
manifest
This is a test every soul
must pass
before breaking through
that glass ceiling
Once you've succeeded
you'll hear the chorus
singing your praises
as you've now been raised
Raised from the ground
& out of the wilderness
no longer a tree
but a seed
A seed no longer in need
of healing but one that sows
from a place forever
growing indeed
This is the catch
that's absolutely worth
the reeling because
you've now been freed
God is there in all of us,
he manifests when we do a good deed,
he does not descend from heaven,
for that is just a myth,
heaven is where a good heart is,
every good heart is where angels sing,
care for those who need His care,
in doing so you do his deed,
dress the wound so he can heal,
forgive those who do not know,
as He did, and so would you,
the earth He created for all to share,
love in our hearts so we can care,
do not wait for His second coming,
bring Him back with the good you do,
every soul is a part of Him,
every suffering is his pain,
knowing this truth is all we need,
“ heaven is our heart”
in here ‘Paradise we regain’.
Still stands the night,
an immovable mountain.
A light snowfall of moonlight
on its exposed terrain.
An isolated star shimmers and shakes
its avalanche of brilliance,
outshining myriads of lesser snowflakes
that adorn the night’s somnolence.
In the lee of this mountain,
amongst taupe shadows deep,
three riders their clutches tauten
halting their steely steeds, while other men sleep.
Their chill- wizened faces
look up to the sky
whilst blind night embraces
the three Magi.
Through centuries they’ve travelled
like astronauts through space
though men still hadn’t unravelled
the first mystery that had taken place
on the outskirts of this beleaguered city.
They gaze at the star questioning:
was man ready for the immensity
of the Second Coming?
The frosty light of the star
then started to melt and wane.
It was too soon for the avatar,
the world was still profane.
They re- revved their machines
and set off into orbit exquisite.
Astronomers observing the dying sheen
said t’was a star of hope that surely would revisit.
After the Second Coming arrives, we'll be living under God's Government.
If you're a big sinner, you must put an end to your wicked ways and repent.
The world's Governments will try to fight against God but they'll be defeated.
God will crush the wicked Governments and their cruelty will not be repeated.
We will live under the rule of God and Jesus and it will be a Government that is just.
It's not too late to turn to God, I promise you that he's the one who everybody can trust.
Righteous people will never get sick, grow old or die because they'll be living in God's glorious paradise.
Wicked people will try to hide from God's judgement but they will fail and they will pay the price.
Non-religious people think what I'm saying is fiction, they think that they need not be concerned.
But if they refuse to turn to God and obey his rules, they will be judged and perish upon Jesus's return.
We must all be loyal to God and live by his rules because that's what he's demanding.
We will have eternal peace and happiness when God and his son are commanding.
When God wins, there will be no more wars, no more starvation and not a single bit of grief.
When I'm living under God's glorious Government, I'll be proud to call him Commander-in-Chief.
Anti-Poem — “Nuclear Noah”
i turned the white sidewalk extending to beverly boulevard
my street teeming with oozing life the stilled human voices
the decades dead coming out of their houses again coming
down the dim sidewalk wearing the colors of remembrance
electric mothers with babies on porches spying the galaxies
i saw them all watched them climb the open skies at sunset
their resurrected arms extending to the apexes to the stars
supersonic specter opens the chest plate carves the future
trumpet peels reverberate like singing priests at noon tide
the host is lifted the choirs of the redeemed drone on now
i saw them go up climbing spiraling upward into the tumult
nuclear noah with eyes of jasper descending to the throng
the dream door is closed is locked for seven black autumns
Okay...
I've just finished another masterpiece
I go and hit submit
This shouldn't take very long now
Before the comments come rushing in
Okay...
It's been a couple minutes now
And I haven't gotten one
Is there anybody awake at this time
Can't they see what it is I've done
1) Do you think that they still like me?
2) Do they even know I'm here?!
3) Did I post my poem at the right time?!!
4) Did I make the writing clear?!!!
5) Could the site be on the blink?!!!!
6) Are the worlds computers down?!!!!!
7) Did I miss the second coming?!!!!!!
8) Is there anyone around?!!!!!!!!
ARGHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!
Okay...
I'll check it once again
Is this the third or thirtieth time
My mind can not comprehend it
Are all these people blind
Okay...
Now I'm on the check it 30 second cycle
It's a crazy loop I'm spinning in
Pretty sure I wouldn't be here though
If someone would please comment
Form:
Bagatelle
You see the old olive tree at the entrance of the village
take it for granted until you see the tree is dying
still, it has about it a non-communicative dignity
an acceptance of life`s unplanned cosmic shortness.
Dying slowly, a botanist is trying new soil around
to get more mileage, but in the plant is
too old, cow dung or artificial fertilizer can stop the tree
bark goes wrinkled, 300 years is enough
To be dead is to be unborn
there is no second coming
Not even for a 300-year-old tree.
The morning wakes us up with a dance of sunlight
thought of buying a pair of shoes, bagatelles are
the sum of our existence.