"pentecostal" poems
Today’s cloud is a rainbow
Dark blue
Light blue
Orange
Pink
With white
Outlines
Some clouds are Pentecostal fury
Orange cotton burning
With daylight’s rage
Swirling and smoking
Working themselves
Up into a storm of retribution
The clouds descend
Bluish grey beasts
Swallowing
The skies
Consuming
All things in sight
Leaving nothing
But a lone tree
To stand against
The rain and sleet
Sep 12, 2015
Sep 12, 2015 at 4:04 PM UTC
**† † †
A quorum of biblical scholars
turned their doubts into thousands of dollars.
Armed with Document Q
they revealed nothing new
but the dirt neath’ the white of their collars.
A proud “health & wealth” Oklahoman
was renowned as a gospel-tent showman.
While the scriptures he twisted,
their tithing assisted
his rise from poor hick to rich Roman.
A sexually diverse professor
(assured he was not a transgressor)
spoke only of openness
glossing sin’s brokenness;
rainbows and tolerance—yes sir.
A Mormon, who lost his own ephod
Realized he was running quite slipshod
and invoked Joseph Smith.
(Yes, it may be a myth—
but it’s not like misplacing your I-pod…)
A Christian whose faith was prophetic
held to views that were truly pathetic.
This crazed Pentecostal,
not quite an apostle,
had taken an End-Times emetic.
A sober and staid Presbyterian
was distrustful of thoughts millenarian.
After smoking some bud,
he awoke with a thud;
in his sleep he’d become Rastafarian.
A preacher who fleeced his disciples
overdrew his own balance of scruples.
He was finally captured
(defrocked and un-raptured)
and rent by his destitute pupils.
A sister who waxed Pentecostal,
mistook herself for an apostle.
Speaking pure glossolalia
she sure could regale ya’
with prophecy; crazy—but docile.
Sep 11, 2015
Sep 11, 2015 at 8:12 AM UTC
My mother was
a first generation lesbian.
My father,
a first generation divorcee.
His father was the one child
of a public school teacher.
He found my grandmother at 18.
A farm child, one of seven.
A painter, a baker.
My mother's father
a single boy to three sisters.
His aggressive masculinity
kept the line clear and thick.
He found my mother's mother at 17.
A middle of seven Pentecostal children.
A beauty queen, an agoraphobic.
Each had five children.
The door-to-door salesmen/
homemaker and mother of boys duo
bet it all to open a hobby shop.
They were by far the poorest of the
watermelon farming siblings.
They were artists and explorers.
The high school graduate and ladies man,
was a logger before a father.
And the single mother of 25 he left
scarcely left her home at all.
Neither pair made it big.
But they made my father.
A lonely, post middle aged man.
The poorest of his brothers.
A used to be pilot,
and could have been teacher,
a want to be pioneer.
A nuclear family super fan
who never got his way.
And they made my mother.
A nervous, eccentric hippie
who doesn't know how to talk to her siblings.
A woman working her *** off to excel at lower middle class.
A builder, a fighter, a **** good mother.
Even if accidentally so.
She has plans to travel.
He has dreams to live by a lake.
And they made me.
A single girl among three boys.
A quirky, nervous tomboy.
A thinker, a gardener, a climber.
A loser and a dreamer by blood.
Nov 17, 2015
Nov 17, 2015 at 5:20 PM UTC
"No man loves God who hates his kind;
Who tramples on his Brother's heart and soul.
Who seeks to shackle, cloud or fog the mind
By fears of Hell has not perceived our goal.
God-sent are all religions blest;
And Christ; the Way, the Truth and Life
To give the heavy-laden rest
And peace from Sorrow, Sin and Strife.
At His request the Universal Spirit came
To all the churches; not to one alone;
On Pentecostal morn a tongue of flame
Round each apostle as a halo shone.
Since then, as vultures ravenous with greed, We oft have battled for an empty name
And sought by dogma, edict, creed,
To send each other to the flame.
Is Christ then divided? Was Cephas or Paul
Nailed to the Cross to die ?
If not: Then why these divisions at all?
Christ's love doth enfold you and I.
His pure sweet love is not confined
By creeds which segregate and raise a wall.
His love enfolds, embraces Humankind;
No matter what ourselves or him we
call.
Then why not take Him at His word?
Why hold to creeds which tear apart ?
But one thing matters be it heard,
That brother-love fill every heart.
There is but one thing that the world has need to know;
There is but one balm for all our human woe;
There is but one way that leads to heaven above;
That way is human sympathy and love."
MAX HEINDAL
•||~•¥•~^\\:://^~•¥•~||•
Oct 24, 2014
Oct 24, 2014 at 3:21 PM UTC
Dear God
I love you so much
that I want to
put my **** inside you.
You gave me freedom,
and a set of rules to follow.
And even if my faith is based on a personal relationship with you,
it should most certainly mend me to be a true follower of these rules.
I thank you for saving me from my own independent ways,
and for taking my fear of death away
that your followers carefully planted inside me.
Oh God!
I love the thought of someone loving me!
Oct 31, 2010
Oct 31, 2010 at 5:13 AM UTC
Charley Bob is a "walker".
He walks the roads and avenues where I live.
He doesn't appear to have a job, he just walks.....every day.
He use to walk with his zipper down
and with flacid ***** in hand proudly display himself to all who drove by,
but that embarrassed many
and they made him put his security blanket away.
Now he just grabs his crotch like the gangstas downtown.
Sorry Charley.
Every town has a "walker",
some have several.
You've seen them.
They walk the streets, lost in their own little worlds.
They look the same as they did 20 years ago.
There's the lady with nary a tooth in her head,
her ankle length skirt and her Pentecostal hairdo (PHD).
They say for 50 bucks she'll let you know why she has no teeth.
She's a "working girl walker", but she is still a "walker".
Once I was walking downtown,
and as I passed her she angrily mumbled something to me, all lips and gums,
"Muver Phucker", she said.
I don't even know her,
but she was as angry with me as if we were the best of friends.
Some "walkers" talk to themselves,
some answer themselves,
some stop and turn and scream out profundities to no-one,
or someone,
it's a matter of perspective.
It's like some shrink somewhere
gave them a prescription for their mental disorder,
walk 20 miles and see me in the morning.
Charley Bob is the best though.
I swear you can see him at 10am,
and by 5 he is still
slowly
making his way
back
from where
he went to.
I wonder what makes him turn and go home.
Charley Bob is a "walker".
Mar 3, 2013
Mar 3, 2013 at 10:58 PM UTC
But
Love hung on a tree
Bruised body
blood flowed
Love died for my shame
Love didn't look at skin or color
Love didn't look at nationality,
legality
Love look at souls
and said we're brothers
Blood flowed
for every nation,
tribe and
tongue
But we've forgotten.
And now
the prophets of the streets
crying like Pentecostal priests
Beating chests and
stomping feet
Begging
those choosing blindness
to see
See our pain
Feel our fury
Our righteous anger
rages
against injustices you pretend can
remain unseen
You were born with this freedom
to close your eyes
We were born into a world
stabbing us from behind
So don't
bring your Bibles,
shove your tracts
drag us down aisles
You weren't here from the beginning
Fighting to break chains and
set captives free
"We have nothing to lose but our chains"
Our battle cry is freedom
justice,
equality for all
Jew and Gentile
Slave and free
Now the verses can read
Black and white
Upper class and lower
College educated, GED
You know, He's crying with us
shouting, marching
Beating chest and
stomping feet
Don't think you're bringing Jesus to us
He's already here,
on the streets
Prophecy of protests
Righteous rage against
iniquity
Jesus, the revolutionary
God with us
On the ground with us
Love doesn't look at
skin or color
And love hung from
a tree
It is our duty to fight for our freedom
Love has already won the day
And we have nothing to lose but our chains
We will fight to lose our chains
Dec 13, 2014
Dec 13, 2014 at 11:19 PM UTC
Sin glows
With sparkling richness
Of all luminaries
of blanketing galaxy
Sin is worshiped and enshrined
Righteousness is
but blase fallacy
With all over-flowing
Affluence
of new pentecostal churches
and their greedy pastors
And easy-come riches
of Chiadzwa diamond fields
with her flippant Gwejas and Gwejerinas
Life is but black
like Soddom's ****
I hear the knell of dawning doom
As Angels of doom boom...
I swear by ****** Mary's blessed ****
I saw a Stephen preaching down Rekai Tangwena Ave
And was run down by a speeding motor car
"O poor chap, was a good fellow," muttered God
I saw drunken Thomas roaming the streets
Of cogitation convincing himself
it was true news
That brother Jesus, pot-bellied in Armani suit
Was back riding a top of the range Lamborghini
And God shrugged his shoulders,kept quiet
Afraid it may be fatally true
I saw God wet his pants
When listening to Elliot The Idiot's "Songs of Sobs"
That applaud Simon and Peter fishing
From people's pockets
Songs that revere and adorn the vigilant
Pillar of Salt
Scorn and mock
the meekness and softness of heart
At Golgotha...
Sin is vermin spreading
In this our home,the infierno grande
-dougwa-
Mar 12, 2013
Mar 12, 2013 at 8:10 AM UTC
Judy Judy Kansas cutie / it starts in the heartland / Tornado = social change through manipulated crisis / Toto the only free agent / Dorothy struck on her head by the closing window of virtual possibility / She realizes that hope'n'change have reached the prairie / Alice in Wonderland Hollywood / Kansas as futurist narrative / Star Wars pre-dated / It's a Wonderful Mythic Life / Miss Gulch as Henry Potter / Witchery in bitchery: Hillary 2016 / Scarecrow as Celtic bog-sacrifice victim / Tinman as ****** therapy client / Did that hurt? No - it felt wonderful ! / Bible-belt Pentecostal subtexts: "the anointing" / obsolete leonine monarchies / Louis Quatorze the Sun King / enlightenment through concussion / the tyrant must be resisted from the heartland / populist progressives plot stealthily to justify their rule through the wizardry of science / the tyrant utilizes tech to manipulate the credulous / green state fascism / journey out of ontic inevitability into the futurist nightmare / eco-mammon bailouts / infantile mental midgets ruled by witch-tyrants = One World Munchkinland / Dorothy as redeemer-Messiah / Dorothy as Mary Poppins / America exports populist prophecy to the greater world / Glinda the Matriarch-Goddess / Glinda as transcendent Wisdom / the Anti-witch antidote / Patriarchy creates "special effects" subterfuge / flying monkeys: shock-troops of the witch / simian social justice warriors / Obama as Witch of West AND Wizard simultaneously / flying monkeys: brown-shirt armies of new multi-culti order / George W. Bush was the the witch the house ("Hope & Change') fell on / Over the Rainbow: somewhere beyond ****** identity grievance-mongering / There's no place like the Restoration of All Things
May 18, 2016
May 18, 2016 at 5:49 PM UTC
i watch you inside my head
with eyes like binocular surveillance
spinning bulls
dancing widdershins
in mind erasing rituals,
from witchy book
voodoo tropical itch
that spits a mudslide
and who are you in this poem
maybe a hungry ghost or
just a girl who has a kink
for shadows burn
from midnight suns
algorithms of bleated conundrums
and luminous smiling star eyed teeth
your undulant music
melodically bleeds desire
swelling
aching worm tongued clitori
in teary shredded *******
that bows her head like sinking stones
to touch blood silent puddles
of Pomegranate Martinis encircled by
drunken Pentecostal Lucifer's
better than a kiss could ever be
you would **** to die goat horned
pink as dingo ****
and held down by storming arms
that stop you dead past memories blur
a martyred fruit darker than night
in a leg show
scumbag halo resurrection
under threat
ankles bound
fledged
split wide and trussed
she panted
"I hate pain
but love being forced to take it".
Nov 8, 2020
Nov 8, 2020 at 1:25 PM UTC
I went to church Sunday like I always do
My Pentecostal Pastor could see right through me
He looked into my eyes and asked me
"Are you living for God Tana?"
I looked straight back at him and said
"Yes sir."
Sep 6, 2013
Sep 6, 2013 at 2:01 AM UTC
My Kingdom has a place for you.
If you followed all the requests, I asked of you?
But I'm Catholic.
My Kingdom has a place for you.
Well, I'm Protestant.
My Kingdom has a place for you.
Well, I'm Methodist.
My Kingdom is reserved for you.
If you abide by my commandments.
They were spoken and written to guide you.
But I'm Muslim.
My Kingdom is reserved for you.
I'm Pentecostal.
Still, my Kingdom is yours too.
Whatever religion you belongs too?
I don't discriminate like people amongst you do?
I notice.
I acknowledge it.
And decides, who comes into my place.
For, I Am God.
Even if you are spiritual only.
My words affected you.
And have found a connection too.
For , I Am God.
Plus, I Am Love.
Apr 5, 2013
Apr 5, 2013 at 4:24 PM UTC
Hmm, Christmas season has gone, good:
Presents shoved in drawers, some used, some abused,
Some never to see the light of day, until thrown away,
Others worn with delight, played with, till dawn’s first light,
We never even saw church, or thought of god, any god.
Why should we? Religious? Nah, not us, Darwin rules,
We had science in schools, we mocked the fools,
Who even imagined an all seeing deity, with awe,
Punishing and rewarding, everything he saw,
But we ate our fill, partied with skill, just avoided,
The need to **** especially to **** so messy,
Never allowing our own family blood to spill,
The clean up is swallowing, such a bitter pill.
Hmm, Easter approaches, we do it all again,
Stretching our family, what an awful strain,
Pretending we like, adore, the snidely sneers,
We just ignore, avoiding the drunk, such a bore,
While those of us, who are close, watch the chaos,
Feel the undertows of love streaming among us,
Binding the salient parts, making a family work,
For the kids, you see, a duty we, must never shirk,
Our only legacy, from the lives we have built,
Making us continue, regardless of the guilt,
Emotional alloys in alcohol flux, so easily spilt,
Another religious festival, who gives a toss?
A land of empty churches, not such a loss.
Hmm, Whitsun lies beyond Easter: what?
What is, Pentecostal; exactly? More rot?
Fifty days, oh yeah, makes sense, sure,
Makes nonsense, have faith, no defence,
We don’t care: get it! Got it? Well good!
No nailed-god; for heathens like us; we hijack,
As Christianity hijacked our paganism, yes!
Copied and pasted their festivals over others,
Took our sacred places, chanted in dulcet tones,
Where we gathered, running naked around stones,
Leaping cleansing fires, bumping ugly bones,
How’d you like that, preacher folk; in shock?
Burn in your created Hell; let heathen Earth rock.
© Paul M Chafer 2014
Jul 28, 2014
Jul 28, 2014 at 8:16 AM UTC
I’ve learned to love a blade’s edge…
I am nobody and somebody
with nowhere to go: the border between
Manhattan’s East and West Streets
ground and stone
reason and faith
mother and father,
the Father and the Son.
I’m the Holy Spirit, the shadow always
mediating between phrases “Serve me” and “Agape”…
I am this sentence. I want you, for this moment; this sliver
between life and death, this Mississippi cutting through
a continent. I was in Adam, after his expulsion:
Let the green apple be lodged in my throat
while washed in the image of Eden
before I leave, so in cursing my fate
and love what is…
Sharp and dangerous, always ready to use conscience
and **** according to judgment,
the thrill, the second where happiness
and sadness is satisfaction, I am there.
Nothing ever gets done without me.
I am a peninsula, imparting
land to waters and seas
divinity to mortality:
Pentecostal.
The blade’s edge ready to cut and be cut.
In the name of the Father and the Son
and me
Amen…
Go to heaven
if you cannot accept hell.
Go to hell if you cannot accept heaven.
As any mediator, I am a nation
unto myself, my fate, my exile.
Jun 3, 2016
Jun 3, 2016 at 4:37 AM UTC
Be you Baptist.
Be you Jewish.
Be you Cathloic.
Be you Pentecostal.
Be you Muslim.
Sunday message should be God wishes you the best.
We see conflicts.
When we should seek resolution through our prayer.
Only the highest power of the universe.
Knows, how to solve them.
Any differences has ways of reaching an agreement.
It's been done down through the centuries.
Even amongst those that chose to keep us problems.
Hate comes and go.
Love stays around forever more.
Be you Mormon.
Be you Progressive.
Be you of any faith.
Sunday's message should be accepted with truth.
That the Almight wants the best for you.
He don't sanction wars.
It's the people.
He does sign off on love.
Cause, it's of him.
There's no one better.
There's no one greater.
There's no one that remain quiet and listen.
But will advise you without speaking.
Sunday's message carries a lot of weight.
Absolve it.
Adapt to it.
And you'll survive your worse conflict.
Cause God won't desert you.
Jan 27, 2013
Jan 27, 2013 at 9:59 AM UTC
My dear Theophilus, I want to stress
that this gospel story is ever-present, continuous
and it’s by no means strenuous
to draw a straight true line
from the angelic choir’s ‘unto us’
through to the empty cross,
and yes, past the fall of Judas
to the day the lot fell to Matthias
and whilst Matt may have on occasion
felt a little out of place
and like us, have sometimes undergone
the syndrome that’s imposter-ous,
nevertheless, with the disciples he received Christ’s promise
of a collective Pentecostal renaissance
And so,
no, it’s not presumptuous for you, for us
to stand with Matthias and the rest
of the disciples of Christ Jesus,
to receive this same promise
and for Christ to continue
the same reconciling mission through us,
because my dear Theophilus,
we are, you are the one and present-continuous,
Spirit-filled church
Jan 3, 2023
Jan 3, 2023 at 8:23 AM UTC
Reserved;
*"o' be careful little eyes what you see...
o' be careful little ears what you hear...*
For the Father..."
-old Pentecostal hymn
Dec 4, 2015
Dec 4, 2015 at 6:21 PM UTC
the pentecostal
white feathers of
the graceful swan
drifting upon
a mirror lake
while the
gospel blue eyes of
a saint
protect our world
if we watch the
morning break
Mar 30, 2015
Mar 30, 2015 at 4:57 PM UTC
To dilligently seek his forever face
focused eternally upon his giving grace
even in squals that hover
under his wing you hide in compassionate cover
Knowing the love that longingly lasts
to hold you like an anchor sure and steadfast
pressing on towards whats in wait
your refining process toward the heavenly gate
Never lose sight of where your going
no matter what the evil one has thrown
for storms and squals open opportunity
to glorify his name in broken community
Shine bright like the night star
breaking bounderies in cities near and far
taking hold of Pentecostal power
leading people to his refuge and tower
Like Pentecost the Spirit will fall
then they will hear his compassionate call
"There's nothing to fear"
"My child come near"
Sep 12, 2021
Sep 12, 2021 at 1:56 PM UTC
Smooth Maur to face their parties
are to blame; the main point is that
it is mountains and desire little fright
into them head to parts of body
and stomachs are against Manifest
system girl increased the shadow
of the ********** saw the boy Equity
least with the officials of Georgia
and died young boys. Chau Choi (Russian
Chocolate Church), Turks and Bing [4]
ship in the Russian equivalent to major
disasters chuke Chukey Otonak. Arns
("1"), the recent lessons, American heroes,
dogs and Tucson, and Pentecostal blood,
Modern Greek, Greek and Latin and Greek
in Greece for many acids. Horror
of my brothers and sisters in French
in France, Russia and planned,
which is 21 years for kings and queen
of wheat in Georgia, Romania, Russia,
is very hot composite and six months:
and in the sky of life, Jesus, and the
women had to take the life of Mr. Robert L.
the best of the oil, the olive-tree?
In the United States, in Kenya and friendship
among people who have no power.
In the morning, the lady and the glory of God.
In recent years, the mainstream fishers
dark to prevent the sleeper from a bed
of every kind. Roman Gaul angels (1)
wall attached to the wall, the wall behind
the wall of wall space. At the same time,
alcohol consumption, Gomer and all
overthrown and the highway, George
English, and I love Georgia. Finally
webizz.ringtoner very easy to use. !
A standard kit of Europe and the United
States, in the darkness and in a festive
Sabbath year nearly all officials
available in the dark night star star
with a bright English from the blue
color of gold color dog Latin language,
George Thomas opens hot air Admin
in the Greek changed future Christian
Association of friends centers in
Greece, Germany's loose women: Elliot
smearing of Jesus Christ according
to the number of the moon of the night
in North history morning east Kenya
walls walls wall of the goddess canvas
walls of the canvas walls of the canvas
walls of the canvas walls of the wall
for Bell and canvas walls of the canvas
walls of the wall of the partition;
wall being privy to the poor, they are
not as hot on the dark side of the girl's
father England, asking about the
bed-in-law and father-in-law of
the throw. The ship shipping
modern temple to temple to temple
out to hear the message of the devil.
Eritrea published articles with
images of purple stones in their
faces, girls and women, eggplant,
Burlington County to the
American Academy of Books || ||
Nov 20, 2018
Nov 20, 2018 at 10:46 PM UTC
Glory to God!
In heaven above
I'm sick of your sins
Sewn with
lust
Your tongue
Eyes
Drowned in lager
Father no saint
Mother a martyr
Tears shed gold
In Christs own name
Bellowed
by man
Pentecostal flame
Roped their arms
Touched all sick
Hammered
him in
On your crucifix
I
Condemn you to
The wrath of the Luna
Sallow your pride
Sing Hallelujah
May 18, 2019
May 18, 2019 at 11:08 AM UTC
My Personal Testimony As A Christian :
I came to know Jesus Christ in 1979 at the P.T.L Club in Charlotte, N.C.
was baptized by their pool by brother Anthony.
Had the opportunity to meet Jim & Tammy Faye Baker there.
Growth for me as a Christian took time I went to various Pentecostal Churches that were spreading the world of God.
I always read from the King James Version of the bible.
Since 1989 I have written more then 1,000 poems and two short stories featured on line.
Many years would pass having every reason to grasp the true message of the gospel.
I decided to enter the New England School of The Bible in 1996 studied under very good teaching by Pastor Townsley.
A few years later I drifted away back to alcohol & drugs.
Then I repented in 2007 and joined the Wolcott Christian Life Center.
It was there I discovered the 12 steps of Christianity & prison ministry.
I went to Manson Prison unit in Cheshire Ct to spread the word of Christ there.
That brings me up to today in which I'm a practicing Charismatic Catholic at St. Michaels Church in Waterbury, Ct under the pastoral care of Rev. Labarda.
Jesus Christ to me is the true essence of life. He's my love the reason I get up in the morning.
I share with others daily the true message of the gospel message which is Christ in you the hope of glory.
My life verse is II Corinthians 10 vs 3-6.
Thank you for the opportunity in sharing my personal testimony with you all.
In Christ,
Poet Mario William Vitale
Aug 2, 2017
Aug 2, 2017 at 8:16 PM UTC