"abednego" poems
Just as
Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego,
I've been through the fiery furnace.......
And as them,
I cameth out unscathed and untouched without one burn mark...
I'm a spiritual being,
I'm protected...
Jul 6, 2015
Jul 6, 2015 at 9:58 PM UTC
King Nebuchadnezzar ordered people to worship a statue that was ninety feet high.
But when three good men refused to worship it, the King condemned them to die.
Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego refused to worship an idol even though the punishment was stern.
The King had them thrown into a furnace but Jehovah God sent an angel and they didn't burn.
Those three men said that they would only worship The Lord.
And being protected from a fiery death was their reward.
Nebuchadnezzar was amazed when they weren't consumed by the fire.
Those three good men survived a fate that would have usually been dire.
Jehovah proved himself to be the true God who has might.
He protected his three loyal servants for doing what was right.
May 26, 2016
May 26, 2016 at 9:01 PM UTC
i choose to be a misfit, it's part of my artistry. i choose to be a misfit, a pirate and a bandit. a slave to my ministry. i outwit your chemistry and scream from the pulpit. i awoke to explosions and time lapsed erosions. the air filled with fire and rainbow smoke. i couldn't find my breath, the bed was ablaze. i inhaled the nightmare and began to choke... just then, things went fragmentary. i was more than just a dignitary. i found myself in a cinerary, facing someone legendary, and they were me. so i looked up my apothecary, knowing that i should be wary. i quickly dispensed with commentary, avoiding all things monetary. but nothing's free. speaking briefly of the goings-on, i stopped to berate the hangers-on. my mouth wove a verbal marathon, it was a virtual phenomenon. lost in my ego. restless, like the myrmidon, i was unsure of my prolegomenon. when i heard the ringing carillon, i went for a swim in the phlegethon. like abednego.
Aug 29, 2010
Aug 29, 2010 at 6:35 PM UTC
a one dimensional
*** ***** brain
in a three dimensional hologram of consciousness
i am a dumb wind
a slouching mongrel soul
carved in corpusles
its twenty six dimensions stupid!
mind like a radish in a **** slum
inhabiting a no return winter
of hollow helled mountains
soon to be dead
like disappearing smoke
i hear my voice
trying to count its molecules
with a slathering tongue
needle numb
and a brocaded Vox throat of tears
while eyes plead floating
like cataract clouds
no
Shadrach Meshach and Abednego
shinning baptism ufo's
god ***** shimmering in space
no
no reality quotient here
in a fitted sim built blood machine
of flimsy bone locomotion's
looking for time slips
tormented
by lifes prodding night stick
in a distortion field
i turn the wheel of shapeless shadows
in Satan's mill
waiting dormant
****** and muzzled
in a 666 cosmic zip code
im just another
****** **** ***** Jew
************ ******
apple bend over
living to pay the ******* rent
in a house fallen before its built
panting staccato deja vu's
in a no return winter
of pandemonium
in this knot of blotting screams
i try desperately to levitate
from this spittoon of ascending ***** matter
here gold turns to chalk
and i'm always doing gods work
with the devils pride
like a bug in the grass
Jul 3, 2019
Jul 3, 2019 at 12:59 PM UTC
when people travel far and wide
Enough to make their way inside
a world that tries too hard to be
The definition of complete
I cannot help but find escape
In something not so far away
It's not above and not below
A place beside Abednego
The heat will burn but reassure
you came to be and always were
A passerby of life and death
And lungs that breathe the purest breath
There's nothing here for you and I
Except the time to say goodbye
And when the words prepare themselves
you'll need to look to no one else
your heart will be your head and soul
Derail the thought of human cold
The cover gone, the flesh undone
Recovery to Babylon
Mar 9, 2015
Mar 9, 2015 at 9:45 PM UTC
And cast they, him, Shadrach,
And alongside, Meshach,
Bound with them, too, Abednego;
But cold raged the fire,
Even seven times hotter,
For within stood the glorious One;
Spake He to the inferno,
As though it were snow,
"Touch not these, my annointed sons."
Oct 25, 2015
Oct 25, 2015 at 7:50 AM UTC