Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Groved Wall Apr 2017
I am mad
or so they say

Seems sad
the prophets way

I am bad
or so they say

Its always been
the prophets way

Shine the light
on the right

Resist and fight
ink is might

I am mad
or so they say

but I will live to fight another day
brandon nagley Jan 2017
Ariseth watchman, O' prophet's dust off the dirt from thy feet. Ourn messiah is close, Iisoús Christós,
He's at the narrow door
Knocking; hair white as
Snow, countenance as
A white sun.
                    Waken, liven up thy hope,
For ourn lord hast risen; all thing's made subject to him.

Art thou ashamed of the great "I AM",
O' Christian? Is thy lamp trimmed, full of oil? Or is thy lamp half full.

Art thou ready? Or playing
World as time ticks through.

From thy slumber, wash the crust out of thy eyne, judgements soon to
Befall this sphere, get thy mind
Settled, focus on what's right.

Watchman watch, O' prophet's write,
Yeshua's coming as a thief;
To rapture up his bride.

©Brandon nagley
©lonesome poets poetry
©prophetic poetry
Ariseth: means arise.
Watchman in the bible: The Bible uses the role of a watchman to describe the work of a prophet among God's people. The role of a watchman is vital to a full understanding of the work of God in the end time. The watchman pays attn to all prophetic things happening around them and warns others, one who blows the trumpet you can say, one who warns. Similar to prophets.
Prophet;a person regarded as an inspired teacher or proclaimer of the will of God. A messenger of god many times by visions, dreams.
Iisoús Christós: jesus Christ in greek.
Liven up: make lively.
I AM in the bible was a name given as a name for god one of many names like Yahweh, jehovah, elohim,
As also immanuel or pronounced Emmanuel meaning (god with us or god is with us). I am stems from

Exodus 3:14King James Version (KJV)
14 And God said unto Moses, I Am That I Am: and he said, Thus shalt thou say unto the children of Israel, I Am hath sent me unto you.
Where i talk about lamp has to do with the parable of the ten virgins in the bible..spoken below which in.other words is your lamp full are you going to be ready for when the lord comes to rapture his people ( the bride away meaning the church) as christ is called the bridegroom before all the tribulation hits on earth or will you have no oil and be searching for that oil in the last minute yet it will be to late Christ would have already taken his people and shut the door. Are you ready Christian to meet yeshua ( jesus).
Matthew 25:1-13King James Version (KJV)

1' Then shall the kingdom of heaven be likened unto ten virgins, which took their lamps, and went forth to meet the bridegroom.

2 And five of them were wise, and five were foolish.

3 They that were foolish took their lamps, and took no oil with them:

4 But the wise took oil in their vessels with their lamps.

5 While the bridegroom tarried, they all slumbered and slept.

6 And at midnight there was a cry made, Behold, the bridegroom cometh; go ye out to meet him.

7 Then all those virgins arose, and trimmed their lamps.

8 And the foolish said unto the wise, Give us of your oil; for our lamps are gone out.

9 But the wise answered, saying, Not so; lest there be not enough for us and you: but go ye rather to them that sell, and buy for yourselves.

10 And while they went to buy, the bridegroom came; and they that were ready went in with him to the marriage: and the door was shut.

11 Afterward came also the other virgins, saying, Lord, Lord, open to us.

12 But he answered and said, Verily I say unto you, I know you not.

13 Watch therefore, for ye know neither the day nor the hour wherein the Son of man cometh.

Eyne: archaic for eyes.
Christians who are saved in jesus Christ be ready for Christ is at the door, Christ is soon to call his bride) we know not the day nor hour not even Christ knows nor the angels, but god knows as bible spoke. But bible also spoke ( you will know even when its at the doors) by all signs prophetically in the news, and by millions including me having prophetic dreams and visions of what's to come as joel 2 speaks also the book of acts states.  
(Joel 2:28-32)

God’s Spirit Poured Out

28 “And it shall come to pass afterward
That I will pour out My Spirit on all flesh;
Your sons and your daughters shall prophesy,
Your old men shall dream dreams,
Your young men shall see visions.
29 And also on My menservants and on My maidservants
I will pour out My Spirit in those days.
30 “And I will show wonders in the heavens and in the earth:
Blood and fire and pillars of smoke.
31 The sun shall be turned into darkness,
And the moon into blood,
Before the coming of the great and awesome day of the Lord.
32 And it shall come to pass
That whoever calls on the name of the Lord
Shall be saved.
For in Mount Zion and in Jerusalem there shall be deliverance,
As the Lord has said,
Among the remnant whom the Lord calls.
Christ will come as a thief in the night
, 1 Thessalonians 5:
2For yourselves know perfectly that the day of the Lord so cometh as a thief in the night. 3For when they shall say, Peace and safety; then sudden destruction cometh upon them, as travail upon a woman with child; and they shall not escape. 4But ye, brethren, are not in darkness, that that day should overtake you as a thief.

So Christians don't let his coming overtake you as a thief in the night, be ready ,be ready.
I.beg anyone who doesnt know yeshua jesus as their lord and savior go back read my poems on urgent message to read for all how to escape the coming judgement how to be saved in jesus go down my poems find them read them, accept christ as your lord and savior today your clock is running out im warning everyone here for the last time, before all hits the fan . Plz read other posts on accepting Christ and judgement you want eternal life in heaven and true peace love with a loving savior with arms open to all people go read my posts asap plz last warning good luck. Actually copy link below paste in.browser read it all accept christ today im blowing the alarm here my warning accept him today..

Another link
Stanley Wilkin Dec 2016
I feel I have to make my defence
Regarding those who over several millennium
Believe they can speak for me;
I do not need to name names, do I? You know
Exactly who I mean. What can I do?
I speak briefly to someone once and, before
I know it, we’re ***** buddies-they claim to
Know my inner-most thoughts,
My opinions on every subject from what
Clothes to wear to who to marry.

Do I not have more important things to think about?
The well-being of an entire universe to evaluate
On a daily basis?
How you treat one another is your concern-
Just keep me out of your bigotry and spite,
My name out of your books, my voice out
Of your heads. I am not who you claim me
To be; I am far better and, at certain times, far worse.
I am both nothing and everything!

You can nevertheless be assured-
I do not lead your armies, support your murders,
Sanctify your suicides, bless your hatreds.
I do not inhabit your words,
Your statues, your art, nor am I the knowing
Voice in your head or the gnawing pain
In your heart. Own what is yours!

Originally, I was a small-time local deity,
Lord of the mountain, brooks and olives.
Benevolent, ***** and shy.
Nothing special! One god amongst many
In and out of pantheons, attached to this
Goddess or that. Sometimes I was el of the
Desert, sometimes the family god in
The corner or staring out of the tent flap-
Inauspicious and insignificant!

I was happy then. I had none of the obsessive
Responsibilities of a universal god. I seduced
The local women, fathered thousands of mixed-children-
Part deity/part human-received the flow of eager
Sacrifice; the few remaining aurochs,
Bulls, deer and first born. The smoke always revitalised me!
Children’s flesh was always particularly nourishing!
For such extensive insurance for my continued interest
I protected each group who so honoured me, destroying
Their enemies, as well as their friends.
(But, oh, not now! I’m expected now to exterminate entire neighbourhoods,
Nations and cultures! Now I’m expected to be the murderer,
The sole master of death!)

I was without ideas! I accepted everyone, loathe to judge!
****** peccadilloes I found interesting, fun.
Adultery I saw as an aspect of marriage,
Homosexuality, the absorbing antitheses of the endless
Production of new life, from its sterile cusp
Seeping forth new ideas and artistic burgeoning.
I created beauty, adoring it. I danced to
Lively music, sang to beautiful songs.

In Egypt a disgruntled warrior-priest arose, preaching violence,
Preaching conquest. I trembled in his angry presence,
Shaken by his bloodlust. An excitable poet sang of his adventures,
Turning a 100 followers into thousands. The poets used my name-
One fashioned in gentleness-to encourage war.
Then, from the confusions of statehood, prophets emerged
Spreading their misery through my authority,
Grinding my benevolence under soiled sandals,
Telling others what to do, as if the words were mine-
Engaging in genocide with pitiless intention.
They flail my soul with madness!

And so on and so on; numerous messengers
Shouting of sin and retribution,
My voice reverberating with their words,
As I stand in the shadows like a serial killer,
Frightened of lamplight. With nothing
More to do, conforming savants
Described rules for life, a non-existent heaven,
Transcribed my thoughts from their own experiences
Created another reality, ignoring their own.

I am now terrified of my name
(EL, YHWH, Allah) Terrified of what it represents-
Burdened by its acquisition
By the bombastic and cruel.
I, who was once a god, now
Am captive, a prisoner of recitation.
Where once I had priests to beckon, they
Now beckon me. Where once I pronounced on
Goodness, I am now too alarmed to speak.
Where once I was the object of sacrifice
I am now the sacrifice itself.
PTL this morning!!!
Big and bold,
We praise him who the prophets of old
hoped and spoke of!
Praise him who we know,
him the faithful and true.
Praise him big!
Praise him bold!
T A May 2016
The stranger entered through the gate
He walked down Crimson Street
He stopped, and all around him wait
He heard the ceasing feet

The stranger said, “All who are near
Gather, hear my cry
I have an elixir here
Drink, and never die”

The people looked at him and thought,
“This man must be lost”
Then one said, “Can it be bought?
How much does it cost?”

The stranger said “The price
Is lower than you’d think
The requirements are concise
Quite simply, drink”

The people said “This can’t be true!
Surely it is fake!
He cannot bring us immortality
If we simply partake”

“Hear me, please!” he cried aloud
The people stared in despise
He was swept up by the crowd
Violence met his eyes

The curtain of mercy we will today
Over this scene bring down
It sufficeth me to say
They chased him out of town

Outside the city gate he sobbed
And wrung his beaten hands
He was bruised, abused, robbed
So he went to a different land

Fifty years, few more had passed
Until he returned again
He hadn’t aged, this old outcast
Though he lacked a single friend

The people, old and weary now,
From fifty years and five,
Saw his face and shouted, “How!
“How is he still alive?”

“The elixir” he said, his voice soft
And trembling with pain
He thought of these people oft
Though they thought him insane

For their frail bodies he could not
Help but shed a tear
They refused before, and now they rot
And still death they fear

Their shaking voices he heard
And his heart did sink
“It’s so simple,” the man whispered,
“They only had to drink”
How slow we are to trust the purest forms of truth.
Brent Kincaid Feb 2016
I truly fail to understand
Why it’s gotten out of hand.
It seems so very odd
There are so many God
Is supposed to have ordained
Some aren’t even trained.
There is an absolute dearth
Of an actual true rebirth
In the revivifying blood of Jesus.
It’s almost like allergic sneezes.

Pastures full of pastors.
Priests and beasts.
Defectors and rectors.
Pickers and vicars.
Bleachers full of preachers.
Clerics and hysterics.
Papal delegates and celibates.
Televangelists and Adventists
And hostile Pentecostals.

We are becoming overrun
With an ecumenical kind of fun
In which before we can holler
Another puts on a backward collar
And starts tell us what to do.
When the rebirthing is through
They are on their park soapbox
And ******* about our Xbox;
Telling us what we should watch
And the coffee in our coffee klatch
Is unGodly because Jesus never drank it.
Makes me want to grab and spank it
Before it multiplies. Jerks, those guys.

Pastures full of pastors.
Priests and beasts.
Defectors and rectors.
Pickers and vicars.
Bleachers full of preachers.
Clerics and hysterics.
Papal delegates and celibates.
Televangelists and Adventists
And hostile Pentecostals.
Leal Knowone Dec 2015
master of dust
swimming in the ashes
I am but a man
among a sea of prophets
Peter Balkus Nov 2015
What if death is a pretty girl
with long legs, beautiful curves
and shiny hair?

With eyes like milky way,
with the softest lips in the world,
with a smile you can't forget,
with two sweet fruits of *******,
and body, beautifully shaped,
much warmer than any of the living girls?

What if pleasing is the way she smells
and her moves are full of grace?
What if she waits for you
to make you a happy, not sad?

What if the medieval art bluffs,
saying that she is ugly, scary and without face,
and without eyes and lips,
without nose, smile and *******,
but the cold ***** skeleton?
And that she stinks and she limps,
foaming heaves at the mouth,
waiting for you at the end of the tunnel,
where no light,
to take you in her arms and to kiss you goodbye?

You won't know until you die,
but why not to imagine her
in the meantime, called - life.
Devin Ortiz Oct 2015
What is the right ending?

Murders of crows sing
Prophetic tales

An evil man, in righteous body
Waiting eternities, to leave a wake
Of ruins, oracles weaping
The fall of man.

This false world,
Twist apart the flesh
Fighting, torn to pieces
To encapsulate, the intent

Fiendish resonates in the chest
A word, spoken by strangers
Summoning, to their ignorance
The mad king

Howling vibrations grasp
At the walls lining the throat
Where booming echoes
Locate the delusions.

Words, chain the beast.
The maniac cackles,
Taunting in the cells.
Always ready, always waiting.
Brent Kincaid Jul 2015
Come and let me tell you
Tales of distant wizards
In far off foreign lands.
The speak in words of poetry
And magic incantations
Even they don’t understand.

They tell of arcane stories
Of dragons and the caves
Of gemstones where they hid.
They tell of verve and derring-do
And swashbuckling heroism
In legendary acts they never did.

They chant, these ancient shamans
To deities and gods of ancient name
Who they know well are fakers.
They foretell and portend wonders
And riches for those who rule, and
Call themselves movers and shakers.

These magic-minded soothsayers
Drape themselves in auras of mystery
And tell the believers they can heal.
And if the congregation fails to look
Closely enough at their performances
They believe the mythological is real.

And time can coat the stores in paint
That looks like the patina of the ages
So it passes the inspection of he willing.
No true believer looks for cracks
In the walls around the real facts
Or questions the truth they are killing.
Next page