"redemption" poems
I wake as your friend You wake as my lover
I speak as your lover You speak as my friend
I act as your possession You are my possesion
I rebel as your cover A means to an end
I hurt for your compassion You live for my acceptance
I injure for your respect Though it's never been withheld
I confide for your emotion You crave my direction
I give and you collect Never will you rebel
This is madness This is Sparta
This is insanity This is the price of exellence
I can't be everything for you I am your everything
You can't be everything for me I am magnificence
You treat everyone the same I am fair and righteous
As a friend, yet as a lover And yet you seek more
And it's a cruel, cruel game Dare you grow capricious
From your twisted love, no one recovers You'll become one I abhor
I am done You are confused
(I am never done) And I will not calm you
I am sick *As I am amused*
(But I'm not tired) As I drop little clues
I will run You'll never leave me
(I won't run) But I'll abandon you
Because I love you You'll always need me
(A better word is 'desire') And I'll never need you
Let me go! My grip is vice-like
(But you're not holding me) I'm not ready to let you go
Bring me back! If I lose you, 'my dear'
(But I never left) I must find yet another 'beau'
Love me only! And I've not the time to put effort
(But you love equally) In little minions like you
Push me away! I've not a care to give for
(Or bridge this rift) You insects I never knew
Please, disappear I am your torture
One day you'll understand But I am your salvation
That the twisted way you love I am your executioner
Could coax death from any human And I am your redemption
Please, disappear! You'll wish me dead forever
Though I'll weep when you're gone You'll wish me dead I know
I know sanity will return And you'll wish yourself deader
And I'll eventually move on. When away I finally go.
Apr 9, 2013
Apr 9, 2013 at 8:25 PM UTC
gods and goddesses stilled mid-flight,
immortalized in a glory fast fading.
distilled sunlight filtering through, unheeded,
as a devastating dawn for redemption awakens.
_dust scattering over marble hands, forever supple,_
as angels fall from grace,
wings clipped and torn asunder.
the sigh of a thousand lost souls, searching;
the thunder of a thousand chariots, unbridled.
_a wing outstretched, a bow pulled taught;_
drawn, not fired.
frozen heroes lifting voices unheard;
_the calm before a storm, a fight unforeseen,_
silver linings beckoning victories
of heaven's epics left unsung.
look up into the clouds and you'll see a history unwritten,
for they speak to you in murals
of smeared colors and pure light.
but hush! sweet child,
off you drift into an insincere sleep,
until these stories buried beneath your lips,
singed, searing, burning away memories of the battles that
linger ,over your tongue ,
are no more than a shadow of a flame.
and as his lashes flutter closed over blue eyes
and his heavy golden curls fall on white sheets
she whispers,
_the renaissance was not painted for you._
Jul 27, 2018
Jul 27, 2018 at 10:08 AM UTC
He came to Jerusalem mounted on a donkey
People went out to meet him,
Waving the palm branches they bring
And hailed him as their king.
Yet, people don’t know the sorrow
The coming week would bring
Soon, Glad acclaimed will give away,
To jeers and mockery.
In God’s redemption plan,
He’d be condemn to a cross on cavalry
But he knew that he was a sacrificial lamb
To die for the sins of man in misery.
Today is the day when Jesus will passed
Give praise to son of God,
Shout the benediction of his name
From the sky and to the sod;
Hosanna to the Highest!
Apr 12, 2014
Apr 12, 2014 at 8:06 PM UTC
Ask me,
Ask me now daddy.
What I want to do when I grow up.
I want to be happy.
No, not happy
I want to be happiness.
I want to be joy and cheer and admiration
Confidence and peace and optimism
I don’t want to be like others, no, I want to be love.
The smile that comes across your face when they say your name,
The look that makes your heart skip a beat,
The song that makes you rethink every second you spent together.
I don’t wanna be the poem, I wanna be the emotion behind it,
Not the first kiss, let me be the nerves,
Not the dance, let me be the excitement,
Not the Officiant, let me be the vows.
When I grow up, I don’t wanna be a doctor mommy.
I want to be the feeling when someone’s told there’s a cure,
Or when a parent finds out their child will live to be a teenager,
Or maybe I want to be 3 in the morning when a mother holds her child for the first time.
I want to be affection and adoration and passion
Oh, I want to be passion.
Let me be passion.
So that you cannot do without me, because nothing without me has meaning.
So that when you are playing the final strain or scoring the winning goal,
Or writing the last chapter or finishing the last paint stroke,
You will think of me.
Maybe I’ll be allegiance or devotion or respect.
I won’t be the soldier, I’ll be the loyalty.
Or the surprise in a child's heart when their dad comes home early,
Maybe I’ll be the feeling when a father meets his baby for the first time,
And the child already knows his name.
I want to be piety and faith and worship.
I don’t want to be the pastor, I’ll be the lesson.
Maybe I’ll be the obligation behind the first baptism or first communion.
Maybe I’ll be the words when someone so low is told someone loves them.
I’ll be the salvation of the gospel,
The redemption to the guilty,
The forgiveness to the sinners.
When I grow up,
I want to be the opposite of sorrow,
The antonym of misery,
The reverse of fear,
The contradiction of rejection,
The antithesis of disappointment,
The inverse of insecurity,
I want to be the alleviation of anxiety,
The ease of pain,
When I grow up,
I want to be happy.
Nov 20, 2013
Nov 20, 2013 at 10:17 AM UTC
My little deer
Is that you
peeking between the trees
peering at the stag
but your heart's
still not at ease
... time ago
a short time
a stray cupid's arrow
shot the night air
splitting your spirit in two
frightened you took off
from the foreboding
hiding in a lea
there was sun
and cloudless skies
but not really
as your insides
raged
in a storm
in a hourglass
with sand pebbles fighting
to heal
for the best
now as you peer
between the trees
of salvation
do you hear
birds singing near a brook
... songs sung
so beautiful
in concerto
with the chipmunks, ***** crickets
then, as you take
that step forward
so lion hearted
peering
between those
branches
of redemption
my little deer
are there rays
of sunshine
peeking back
LR-4/23/17
Apr 23, 2017
Apr 23, 2017 at 11:46 AM UTC
all is lost; hopeless.
until from out of the skies
our redemption comes.
Apr 27, 2014
Apr 27, 2014 at 9:25 PM UTC
I want to know
what it feels like
for reconciliation
to wash over
my fault lines.
Take my cracks
and paint them
with gold.
Let me glimmer,
gleam,
and glow
redemption.
Illuminate my mistakes
and let my skeleton
frame out a museum
of triumph
Apr 11, 2016
Apr 11, 2016 at 1:20 PM UTC
dead in the night
all alone
dead inside
eyes wide open
glued to the ceiling
gone all mental healing
all the overthinking
praying for redemption
followed by slow blinking
for shame, i'm left with feelings of abnegation.
Dec 1, 2019
Dec 1, 2019 at 1:40 PM UTC
"There is no forgiveness for any kind of unspeakable Evil that one has already committed... but redemption.. at any cost.. may not be forgiven.. but shall help proceed, one, onward in the journey towards something that might be suffice. To become something.. 'better'."
Jul 8, 2014
Jul 8, 2014 at 2:39 PM UTC
Remember, dancing with the devil
In life will take it's toll
For, dancing with the devil
In the end will take your soul
Many who have done it
Reached the top only to die
Many souls we thought in heaven
Could never get that high
The Forever 27 club
playing in the band
Janis, Jim and Jimi
In hell, oh....ain't it grand
We thought them all as angels
But, the truth it rings a bell
They were dancing with the devil
And they ended up in hell
Cobain and Amy Winehouse
Oh yeah, they're down there too
Brian Jones and others
Playing hard rock and the blues
Sell your soul to Satan
Where you go...you do not choose
If you spend time with the devil
It's nothing but bad news
Remember, dancing with the devil
In life will take it's toll
For, dancing with the devil
In the end will take your soul
Many who have done it
Reached the top only to die
Many souls we thought in heaven
Could never get that high
There's others there who did the dance
Hit the crossroads, sold their soul
Drugs and drink and suicide
That's how this devil rolls
Some may get redemption
For the things they do in life
they sold out with their talent
They were dancing on a knife
The band is hot, and so's the place
They play here every night
We wish they were in heaven
But, deep down you know I'm right
Elvis, yes, the king is here
He did drugs and did the dance
Now, he's singing for the devil
He never had a chance
Remember, dancing with the devil
In life will take it's toll
For, dancing with the devil
In the end will take your soul
Many who have done it
Reached the top only to die
Many souls we thought in heaven
Could never get that high
So many tortured people
So many who did wrong
They traded with the devil
For the price of just a song
Rock and Roll in heaven
Has a great band, just the same
But, with Janis, Jim and Jimi here
They just don't have the game.
Mar 6, 2013
Mar 6, 2013 at 12:12 PM UTC
Resuscitate our dead memories only just to die again;
Waking from a deep slumber, Staring out the window pane;
Counting hours, how long can I endure the need to restrain?;
Nothing have changed I should just get back to sleep again.
The sun rises slowly as it burns my pale tainted skin;
It just felt so good just to feel pain! For so long I've been so keen;
I grew weak in my dreams when I'm asleep, the thoughts of you makes me sick!
It's not that you vexes me, It's because of what I did to you that worries me;
Never before I have felt so sensitive within this lifeless body...
Lived only by drinking blood! To be confined in this coffin just to feel lonely!
And then you came... The one I thought who restrained the beast in me;
The one who gave warmth not burning me, calmed my soulless fury.
But we must all know that the nature has its way of breaking;
Something that is beautiful, Something profound! A new beginning...
And so it came to that point where I fed on her! left her dying!
Perhaps it was all meant to be for a while just to forget the craving...
I'm a killer, a monster! An abomination to this world!
But I can't take my life...Believe me I tried!
I bathed under the sun turn to ashes and died!
Only to know that when darkness falls I'll be revived...
I must make a choice... It fancies me just having this thoughts right now;
What could I possibly do?If the beast within is the one who contains me and how?
It seems like a personal attraction just to add some satisfaction as I reach for the ****
A little drama, show some masked humanity, make them live a little just to quench the thrill!
I have glared, I have grinned, I have laughed and I have seduced...
As I get closer for my teeth to sink in, let loose, let the hunger reduced;
But after the feed do I feel remorse? For hours I thought I did...
It's been like that through all the years... Feels redundant indeed.
So how far will this story goes? For centuries I have pondered in circles.
I have been there the evolution, the changes, the life as it cycles.
And again...Here and now as I stand where once I become capable staring at the sun;
I will forget the unforgettable, sail away! Far away from this land...
Remember my story as it will never end;
I'm finding a way now to break free from this curse;
To be one with my prey walk free no more blood to quench thirst;
So long and goodbye from me Dracula...
Serenity is what I seek...A redemption of what they speak.
Nov 14, 2013
Nov 14, 2013 at 2:36 AM UTC
My heart is a cave,
a home...
For animals who live in shadows,
my pathos,
which once shined upon,
removes all doubt,
glowing as a ghost-white sun.
Remove this light of your love,
and these shadows crawl back into their hole,
the caverns within the cave of my heart,
where there lives my long lost soul.
If you continue with the light,
that emits from your charitable love,
you can hold my hand through this fight.
Lead me through this maze,
into resurrection,
implode my heart,
devouring itself.
Yet I am reborn from the ashes of my past,
like a phoenix in the sky,
with you as my guide,
I fly with my wings spread vast,
a redeeming cry,
and you by my side.
And nothing could be better.
Nov 17, 2014
Nov 17, 2014 at 1:02 PM UTC
*The Road to redemption
Is a daunting path
It’s an uphill battle
That is slippery and steep
It goes against the current
In the frigid rough rapids
With rays of blistering sun
A jagged wall of obsidian
And a sea of sand
There are no shortcuts
Only cuts, scrapes and bruises
What you did in the past will never be forgotten
But what you are remembered for will have changed.*
May 30, 2016
May 30, 2016 at 4:54 PM UTC
Thyself or Myself.
Selflove or Selfcare.
Eating or consumption.
Redemption or Vindication.
Self-conscious or Self-aware.
Sounds same,
Yet vastly different!
Or might I say diverse?
Mar 13, 2021
Mar 13, 2021 at 6:13 AM UTC
Lord, I need some devine redemption
Because I move like a heathen through the night
Depart some solemn words of wisdom
Deliver your blessed sacred rite
My god your wrath is so sweet
I am consumed by it's salvation
Let me offer myself to you
And save myself from your damnation
My wickedness will have me burned
I make a covenant to you from this day forth
Enter me and make me clean
Fill me with your righteous seed
Command me down on my knees
I'm praying with my mouth to please
I offer myself as your possession
To use whenever at your discretion
Dec 30, 2016
Dec 30, 2016 at 5:55 PM UTC
Visits of condolence is all we get from them.
They squat at the Holocaust Memorial,
They put on grave faces at the Wailing Wall
And they laugh behind heavy curtains
In their hotels.
They have their pictures taken
Together with our famous dead
At Rachel's Tomb and Herzl's Tomb
And on Ammunition Hill.
They weep over our sweet boys
And lust after our tough girls
And hang up their underwear
To dry quickly
In cool, blue bathrooms.
Once I sat on the steps by agate at David's Tower,
I placed my two heavy baskets at my side. A group of tourists
was standing around their guide and I became their target marker. "You see
that man with the baskets? Just right of his head there's an arch
from the Roman period. Just right of his head." "But he's moving, he's moving!"
I said to myself: redemption will come only if their guide tells them,
"You see that arch from the Roman period? It's not important: but next to it,
left and down a bit, there sits a man who's bought fruit and vegetables for his family."
9k
How tenuous this grip we have, how slight our hold remains
When all around loud braggards boast that power now pertains,
We see the banner headlines splashed across our daily rags
And redneck demonstrations cleans the streets of Spics and ****
When blood runs in the gutter as the battons rise and fall
And whilst taking tea in style the filthy rich ignore it all.
The blonde leader of our nation struts, postulates and brags
While the rest of us skive off around the corner smoking ****
Our kids ingest confusion as they loiter on the street
Unknowing our delusions make illusions held, replete.
How tenuous the grip we have, how slight our hold remains
As our allies shower cold distrust convinced our fault inflames.
What chance of clear redemption, what remedies revive
When truth is lost to darkness can our honesty survive?
Reputation cut to shards, confidences ******
That leaders of community no longer hold our trust
When white is caste as black and then to green and then to grey
And sanity refuses pontification one more day.
How tenuous the grip we have, how slight our holds remain
As twilight turns to darkness caste against a larks’ refrain.
M.
The White House
HAMILTON, New Zealand
25 July 2018
Jul 25, 2018
Jul 25, 2018 at 1:36 AM UTC
This nation
once fought
for its liberty,
its redemption,
its freedom.
Now it sets all its
rights aside
just because those who reside in this nation
simply lost the fire
that once burned in their heart.
The freedom that this nations heroes fought long ago
is being disregard.
The countrymen act like the
notion of freedom is nothing.
I dream about the nation this
piece of land used to be.
How nationalistic it once was,
how love used to fill the air.
Now, nothing remains but the memories
of what used to be.
I would honestly rather live and die
in the time wherein this nation fervently fought for its
freedom and its rights, wherein each and every person
loved its homeland, than live today
where apathy rules.
Apr 12, 2010
Apr 12, 2010 at 1:54 AM UTC
A soft touch of your lips
Caress my ears
Pouring life into my veins
My soul brought back as redemption
The world swirls around you and I
Dropping all concern or restraint
I feel all that I could feel
I feel all that I ever wanted
Your eyes hold me down to this earth
Your eyes make me fly
Sep 21, 2014
Sep 21, 2014 at 2:28 PM UTC
O Thou who at Love’s hour ecstatically
Unto my lips dost evermore present
The body and blood of Love in sacrament;
Whom I have neared and felt thy breath to be
The inmost incense of his sanctuary;
Who without speech hast owned him, and intent
Upon his will, thy life with mine hast blent,
And murmured o’er the cup, Remember me!—
0 what from thee the grace, for me the prize,
And what to Love the glory,—when the whole
Of the deep stair thou tread’st to the dim shoal
And weary water of the place of sighs,
And there dost work deliverance, as thine eyes
Draw up my prisoned spirit to thy soul!
7.2k
This isn't him,
This can't be the face he's left here,
This isn't the face he's used to seeing,
Solidified in the mirror.
It can't be the current one,
Or even close,
It's not at all how he recalls from the ponds he's known.
Not the one admired,
On crystal clear days,
Or the one sang with,
Through some humming nights.
Maybe his memory is just fogged up,
Maybe this reflection is just blurry from the showers,
They'd have burned others skin.
Still this can't be the face.
Not with the potholes for eyes,
Waning moons for lips,
And cliches for brains.
Or maybe things,
Maybe they do just change,
Maybe sometimes somethings sink in the earthquakes,
And are never swam in again.
Maybe sometimes there's no hope for reversal, redemption,
Or some rectifying light to right what's left,
Only hope in surviving the new.
I guess that's all there ever was.
If only he had it sooner,
He would have thrived in the old world,
Found melodies in the days and more mirror-less memories for the nights.
Only then could things be better off,
Different.
Jul 26, 2018
Jul 26, 2018 at 5:27 PM UTC
I'm looking down watching what you do
As if i'm Uatu the Watcher
Or maybe I'm controlling you
Like the evil Puppet Master
See you have no control in life
This is my world and I'm just allowin you to live in it
It's like I'm eating up planets with Galactus
And creating chaos with Apocalypse
I'm in control of my actions
Choosing to do wrong
Only to wait until my redemption by the hands of the worthy
You're inside my head like Charles Xavier
Trying to find out my secrets
Only to discover that I keep my mental barriers on lock
With no key or code to unlock
Said passageway into my subconsious
Because I can block you without a helmet
Unlike Juggernaut or Magneto
I'm free to swing around with the good wall crawler known as
Scarlet Spider
Hah
And write up my own unique flows with no worries
I don't need the X-men or Avengers
Or my friendly neighborhood Spider-Man
To know that I have some great repsonsibilities on my shoulders
Weighing me down like a ton of bricks
And I don't need someone like Doom
Telling me how to be a leader
When we all know his leadership skills could use some attention
I'm an enigma
Close to what Deadpool would say is
Very unique
Before muttering towards the wall
As if it were his faithful audience
I know who I am
I know what I do
So simply put
I'm freaking awesome
Apr 24, 2013
Apr 24, 2013 at 11:19 PM UTC
The letter I never sent,
I write my valentine on my beating heart,
And send a perennial prayer,
That you could know without knowing.
Petals on your doorstep,
But no signature,
Pink Rosehip on your bedsheets,
Spying through your window blinds,
At someone I invented.
A label that travels as my desperations move it,
How I value the sick,
The unnatural,
The corpse and the comfort.
The will to pull me off the train,
The weight of every station,
The ommitance after the deprication,
And the awkward silence after the cosmic joke.
I lust for that iced libation,
The roseate water of ivy and redemption,
A clay to fit inside my insatiable skin hunger,
A welcomed error of continuity in my own beliefs,
And my perennial prayer,
For an ardent antiphon.
-Unabaitingly, The Romantically Inept
May 8, 2019
May 8, 2019 at 4:58 PM UTC