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Emmanuel Davies Sep 2020
The Gospel preaches no condemnation
But of indisputable love
Why fright?
Emmanuel Davies Sep 2020
The beauty of it
The world I tell you
In the last days
When I shall cease
No more to be
But caught up with him
In the firmament

When I shall no longer
By my sins be judged
Nor condemned by my wrongs
But be tested in fire 🔥
My service to Him
In order for the gospel to go it also must come.

come Jesus come.
go Gospel go.
Ken Pepiton Jul 2020
Quiet, or you miss the promise kept
by we, the people who hold the yesmen in chains egon-wize

Cuomo Opens Poetic Door Looses Zeitgeistical Cult of QAnon

everybody wants your vote, nobody wants to read my ****

so if you do you could be like so
this is easy,
we have taken every test,

passed all the rituals, learned the steps to the rose dance
morphing from the lilac dance which is longer

in the years when the manzinita shed
more bark to make the fiber for the best baskets ever tested
best
being relative you perceive in as, as in may be the global brain is
friendlier than the kids in the 1950's happy days,
could imagine after they wore the tie

yeah we just missed that, my generation,
barely missed disco, too.

beat the rap, survived the crap, got old on rumors of war.

Huawei, wu wu wu wei we go,
peace versus war...

who one last time? What are the odds?
There is a flood in Bangladesh,
Warholian fame,
back up to 3 centuries
must be the melting of the ice. Who is making this
seem life-like,
as real as any vision in any kiva, vista vision, without which

internet of things

my people perish, and I am at the white page, once more
turning to the business page
three of the world's biggest banks set aside, as in, did not count
as profit,
just in case. Eh. We qui quinonaqanonic grain eaters,
we set a scene, the stage
observed off stage, obscene as you know,

when you see it it is as if you are here, in the book of life
where you witnessed all the evil any one like you could do

if you had your own way, you coulda been Besosaurus, or Sam,
but you went walkabout
and now you say

you learned how peace is made, while being good for nothing.

Ironmanmeyes yesyses I said, while being, actually being virtually
real
as any deed you wisht you did, but did ent, earily close
but
missed still counts, you fired,
you pulled the trigger on the trap you set and Broncos are back,

life goes on, the richer are as rich as ever and the hermits
are as happy as they ever wished to be

Cuomo is a graphic artist, a meme maker,
who new a lysurgic imitation
of
what? HELLOHNOMYGAAAACH-you

deny my power? Fool. Raca-ist, too. Dimensional missed shifter

making some old lies do double time,
the center cannot hold,
Cuomo is a zeitgeistic antenae in radiolandmentis psiscience-osis.

Any idea can be a plague these days. Give 'er a go.

Antediluvian condition, sayzz the New York Times, cut the drip
drip drip
bene fits as we approach 6% solution,

with full disnification in the internet of things allowed.

Tinker bell may be the voice in your GPS if you can imagine
Suzie Creamcheese dating me and being
the operator who once connected me to you

we were walking to chicago, remember?

"On the far end of the trail of tears." today, a native son
sang of a promise kept,

and here we sang along, before we knew he sang, we knew the song.
Good news, on the whole
ConnectHook Apr 2020
Eternal salvation’s a gift

From a righteous young maid in a shift

Who had never been laid;

By God’s Spirit: hand-made

was her baby, our burdens to lift.
PROMPT #20: write a poem about a handmade gift that you have received.

I spent this afternoon watching SHE (1965 Hammer version) with my daughter because I was dreading trying to rise to the challenge of this prompt. I wound up with a half-baked limerick based on Luke 1:37, 38
"For with God nothing shall be impossible.
And Mary said,
Behold the handmaid of the Lord;
be it unto me according to thy word.
And the angel departed from her."
Gods1son Mar 2020
Unwanted things that we buy
Just to fill a void that we feel inside
Unnecessary battles that we fight
Because we rely on our own might
God is saying, let Me fill you up
Till your cup overflows
I will bring peace to your soul.
If you would open up your heart to Me
I'll show you what tranquility means
I turn broken pieces into a masterpiece
If you don't let Me, I don't overstep boundaries
I am here for you, whenever you're ready.
Dez Mar 2020
Fetters are on many who do not believe
Are they on you?
Well, check and see!
Are you bound by doubt
Or are you shackled by a thought you can’t surmount?

In my answer listen close
For good news, I bring from the coast.
Turn not from listening when I begin
For it is needful that you listen in.
It is that you are a sinner and do need saving
From the wrath of God, that is hastening.
Believe me, not?
Are you without a blot?
Well, then you must be the best of persons!
But quick, let's check and see?

Not one false truth have you unfurled
From thy curled
Lips?

Do you withhold every word thou might have uttered
In the blasphemy against thy maker?

Have you never murdered?
Even by saying a perverse word
Against thy brother?
Tell me truly
Are you
Unruly?

If this dear poet were to speak to your parents
Would they tell me you've always
acted truly?
Honored their commands
And obeyed their demands?

Has thy hand taken?

Has your heart coveted the body of another
That is lust, my dear brother.

But be not mad
for I am just as bad
if not worse then all transgressors.

How then shall two chums like us
Enter glory when our bodies are but dust?

Maybe we shall escape through the mercies
Of the God that is to judge our secrecies?
Nah, my fellow!
Be we in a court of law the judge would bellow
That we have transgressed
And are dismissed
To suffer the vengeance
Saved for our negligence!

But say we were so bold
to lay out the story yet untold
Of good deeds many
And prayers plenty?
This still would not suffice
For our sins do require a sacrifice.
For though I transgress not again
The sin is unpaid for if I have not accepted the Christ.
The one who suffered all demise!

'Tis a two-step process
that is a must that leads us
To a reunion and a trust
To the one who formed us from dust.

First cometh repentance
The which is a turning
From the yearning
Of the lusts
Which did
Hold you
In the
Dust.

The second
Is to believe upon
The one who hung well after the dawn.
Yet not in his death alone, for that would be wrong!
But in his resurrection and in his victor's song!
For he has freed us from our death
And taken the punishment
For our every breath
That we did fail
To thank God
For who gave
To us, our
Will.

Repent and believe this tale
And my dear friend, he will never fail.
He promises not a life of ease
Nor one free from disease
as some modern preachers tease.
No, he promises a life of toils
And many raging seas.
But at the end is life untold!
So brother do be bold
And humble thy head
and bow thy knees.
Commit to him thy life
And to you, he shall grant eternal life.

If this has happened to the soul that does read
Then do take heed
For our heads are not the keys
Nor are thy deeds
A means to inherit
These.

Trust Christ and him alone
for all thy wants and needs.

I am from humble means
So think not that I live in ease
For I live for him but many tease
And my life has its stormy seas.
But he has called me to my knees
Where I did call upon his mercies
And he bestowed his wondrous glories
And gave me joy and peace

With that, I may now cease
To question my life
that I once did doubt
And my fetters are fallen
And I do shout
So how could I ever come to doubt?

Now conclude I with a promise
And it is one He gave to me
It is that life might be more full
And abound with blessings
And in the end, you will receive
Life everlasting, peace, and glory.

No shackle
No fetter
Only a life for the better
This does come if repentance
You seek and are humbled
Before Christ.
Amanda N Skaggs Mar 2020
Bowed heads weeping death
Spotless lamb reborn three days
Trumpets sound return!
Max Neumann Feb 2020
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UuuZMg6NVeA
Sorry guys, that's not a poem. Had to publish it :-) So much love in it, HEAVEN YEAH!

Today is a good day.

Youtube: Hezekiah Walker New Video "Every Praise"
Everything I once knew has been stilled:

I fathomed my mother’s voice whispering
In my juvenescence,
She weaved a tapestry of tales
Whilst her pearlescent eyes
They glistened,
Enveloped by downy lashes
Ebony and yet unassuming
For
The night domineered.
Unblemished enough to
Garner the praise
In the clarity of
My reverential heart,
As I lay there
Tucked in,
Once peacefully,
Yet now shaken
By
The disquietude
Of the restless twilight,
Upon an azure king-sized mattress
Primped in creaseless Space Jam sheets.


They were set by
The grace of her manicured hands
However slightly,
Chestnut and replete
That longed to,
By the Blessed Oracle
Speaking with a God,
Summon the Salvation
Of my long lost rest
That Raged Leviathan
Where,
To be cocooned in The Sea of Shadows
The thew of dreams would be born.

She sanctified my fears
Like coal oppressed for aeons
By
That Treasured Sphere
(Terraqueous Gaia)
Until by
The Womb of the Mountainous Mother,
Were reborn
As the Children of Diamonds.

Or perhaps
Like a baptismal kiss
That floweth from an ivory chalice
By which
The soil of my life flowered,
For a quaked youth was
Bestowed
With a fading taste
Of the transcendence at dawn
Poured upon my palate
Until
The Garden of the Valiant
Bursted into bloom.
(Tis where the Behemoth lay nestled
Under the Age Old Tree of Life
And Sylphs soar beneath iridescent twilit skies
Illuminated by Providence
Of the Half-Faced Crimson Moon).


If I so chose
I could
Be anything
That
I imagined, even
Today.

Ephemeral though
Those moments were
My reminiscence
Doth memorialize in crystal stasis
My infantile longing,
Tis ceaseless in its yearning
To be comforted
When
Pangs overtake me:

But what fable is my weapon
Now?
The Hallowed Excalibur,
Or perhaps even The Ultima Weapon
With the Impenetrable Aegis
Imparted by
The Mighty Crystal
Bestowing might to its Anointed
The ones who war with their own iniquity,
Until their paths align
Like celestial bodies
And they’ve arisen triumphant,
Eclipsed the fictitious light
Of a false deity
Who besmirched the truths
That upheld The Cosmos
Since its genesis?

There is one tale,
(Lean in, listen closely,
This is my Susurrus in the Night)
Tis no figment
And one I found most favorable,
One of a man
Simple,
Strong,
Stunning,
Sound,
Sapient,
And high over all but
The Desideratum of the Holy,
The one to whom
Even the angels, seraphs, and cherubs bow.

He was scourged
In flesh and spirit
Till his pulse was silenced,
His inestimable blood
Prophesied to vanquish
Chaos and
The Futile Wind
Of life
That by
By the disobedience of
Our
Tarnished Father,
Is now
An accursed child

She
Is effaced by
Time
(For Sorrow has no end)
And
Tormented by Space.
(Height,
Breadth,
And depth,
O that Existential Fabric)
His caverns
Condemned Her
Without
Compassion.

The thought of solitude
Looming in mortality
Were the dreadful horns
Of an Auroch that
Pierced
Her consciousness
Until by
Proud Oppression
Hope
In its frailty
Was a dandelion
Strewn by skinless hands
Against the immaterial
Brush of the breeze.

To flourish then
Wither,
Wax and
Wane;
Never
Was a fate
That our God intended.
For eternity shines and
Is a supernova
In the galaxy of our hearts
And though undiscerned
By many
Has always been
And
Will always be
The Cherished Wish of the Stars,
For though we are an exhalation
By contradistinction,
Even they become nebulous
Fading into dust.

We shall
Become
Exalted and ennobled
Even to these who are
Of the luminaries,
Lowly
Brothers and sisters
Without Ears,
Eyes,
Hearts,
Or minds.

Yes,
(These vibrations resonate from the Cosmo-Plexus of Love)
Soon enough they say,
Soon enough.
Hey guys, this poem is written as a thematic embodiment of a religious-based autobiographical piece I am in the process of assembling (It will be a metaphorical interlude if you will in between two segments of the piece and thus act as a segue). It was written as a free-verse piece. I have not written in about a month which has given me time to reflect and introspectively examine the Universe around me; consequently, I hope that you guys can perceive my metamorphosis in my month long cocooning as a writer. I wanted to encapsulate the whimsicality, fancifulness, and innocence of youth by incorporating myth, imagery, and imagination (almost reminiscent of a fairy-tale whispered to a child before bed, hence the title "A Susurrus in the Night"). I kind of rushed putting this out because I was so eager to share with you guys, so forgive me if it's not as refined as my usual writings. *Since posting I have edited it on this website* I this does not convolute and thus make it less understandable! I have so much to say through this piece! Thank you so much for your support and God bless!
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