"repent" poems
I want to be your sunset eyes, those blue skies, you're perfect starry night.
I want to be the shore kissed by the sea, I want to have everything causally, I want you and me.
I want to be the waves when they dance alone, the midnight tone, I want to be your back bone.
I want to be your perfect scent, your missed rent, those days you feel you need to repent.
I want you to listen to these cheesy rhymes, feeding me these sweet lines, be together all the time.
I want to be your dark brown hair, the place back when we didn't care, the memories only we share.
I want you in all the ways I can say.
I'll want you forever and always each and every day.
Aug 30, 2014
Aug 30, 2014 at 1:28 AM UTC
A black crow's darting eyes
spans the wheat field
and an orange pumpkin patch.
She sees
tall grasses of brown
seedlings,
bristling in the wind,
soon to be bushels of grain
and a pumpkin pie that she never savored.
She sits, atop her tree perch,
at times warm and storybook,
hidden by tree branches,
and at times out of harm's way
and infamy.
Her friends, the sun, and clouds in concert,
dancing along.
Her other friends bring alms and smiles.
Life is so good at times.
Down the road sits a mill
next to a waterfall
and a cabin,
with reindeer horns
hanging above the doorway.
She is in her element, happy,
carrying for her nestlings.
Back and forth her parental eyes dart
the hilly fields, a smoked filled chimney, and her babies,
all crawling with sustenance and awe.
Storybook.
A mother feeding a worm to her baby.
Storybook.
Off to her side is not a blind eye
watching her,
scary stick figures of
straw tucked under red shirts and hats,
with a tied tinfoil strips dotting
her eyes and tease.
Scarecrows, cease.
At times life is good nature, hand in hand,
knock on wood.
If only life could be circumspect.
Than darkness filling the light
and a stutter of life.
For a sad page is turned,
pause
... tears.
Then, feathers fall.
Hers.
The sound of a thud.
Silence and tears of her friend's swelling.
A baby's cry, missing her mother.
More orphaned tears.
Who would be this despicable?
On that rogue day.
A kick of a donkey,
an ***
one bad rock on her path,
breaks the air,
as three little elementary kids were walking along
to school.
One, me, with a rock in his hand,
taking aim at her perch
and the death of the black crow's pages.
I confess.
... Bless me, Father, for I have sinned
it has been fifty years since
my last confession ...
a Tom Sawyer-like childhood gone worse.
I repent.
Some fifty years later I think of those first cairns,
including stealing the reindeer horns and milling
my brother and sister's storybook.
Waterfalls
stream tears, and a sorry boat
rowed downstream
sadly
thereafter.
Logan Robertson
7/25/2018
Jul 25, 2018
Jul 25, 2018 at 6:02 PM UTC
Im cold
no one knows me
not even myself
Im tired of living with no self-help
Oh hell
Oh well
Guess this fights over
i hear the ringing of a bell
In time
in my own eyes im blind
cant seem to find
my way out of this mess
so much stress
just to impress
Impress who you ask
Matter fact
i dont know that
but all these suicidal tendencies
Someone put an end to me
I feel like i should be quoting Macbeth's final solilquoy
Life is but a wandering shadow
Goes nowhere
like i care
And all our yesterdays have lighted
fools the way to dusty death
Now stop it for a minute
let me catch my breath
Foe his final line
so i may go in depth
Life is told by an idiot
full of events
signifying nothing
so why repent
and now i truly question
can time be well spent?
Just let me lament
Few good times
adn many bad
all sad
i start to get mad
I start thinking
even if i did look
on the brightside id probably go blind
no lie
i bought a suit to meet god
so let me straighten the tie
my final words to you
goodbye
Nov 9, 2012
Nov 9, 2012 at 11:41 PM UTC
Le ***** Quest
Glasses up, Hair down
*** up, Face down
Ignore the sisters, I’m after the cousins
The catholic approved crevasse to bust in
I wouldn’t say im obsessed
But the ***** demon has me possessed
I’d call you blessed, its what you guessed
I’m hard pressed to bend you east and get at the west
I’m on a ***** quest with a lascivious request
to admire the caboose cleft
I can’t repent the intent of this unspent cement
But I’ll give up hemp for lent
Embark on a posterior pilgrimage of preposterous proportions,
Devoted to the search for thy voluminous bloons for which I swoon
Sep 9, 2015
Sep 9, 2015 at 11:50 PM UTC
I get accused of a lot of things at first glance
"You're simplistic, you're hiding something
You have no convictions, you don't think deeply"
Usually by those who I consider to be on intellectual crutches
If you're gonna come up to talk to me from a religious context
from a spiritual context
from a hierarchical, metaphysical, eat this **** popsicle mindset
Don't expect me to swallow
Don't expect me to talk
You won't like what I have to say
Because really you just want me to agree with you
If you want me to respect your framework
When you have nothing but the claims of quacks
and the feelings you gleaned from your last psychedelic trip
to back you up
While I have to sit back and listen to how I'm close minded
Close minded for wanting some real truth in this universe
unfiltered, raw, verifiable, and in my hand
and that anything other than that is a spray paint over
my true awakening
Then I guess I'll just have to be that *******
to die for these intellectual sins
The Eldest Son of Matt, hater of pretense
Hypocrite to the highest level
Build me up into a figure of idolatry
Just like you do with the rest of your ego cases
Priests, Gurus, Rabbis, Rockstars, Poet sensations
Tell me how wonderful it is to listen to them
Tell me how I should be more in touch with a tree
Tell me how I don't dream
When all my life is but that
Tell me how I'm not deep when you make no attempt to learn
Who I am, and where I have come from
Misinterpret my teachings, and claim me to feel
As if I was the newest son of god
When all I want is for people to get beyond blinders
and love each other, and to get beyond the metaphysical rat race
Tell me that I'm supposed to live and let live
While you jam your beliefs down my throat
and expect me to respect getting philosophically tea bagged
Tied up to the crucifix
and asking me to repent for my search for truth
Jun 3, 2014
Jun 3, 2014 at 1:02 PM UTC
I am Sin
In its purest and rawest form.
& for that, I have no shame
as fire in the bible resembles
purification.
I...
repent.
And so
as this fire
burns between my legs
flickering images of your full, yet delicate figure
cross my mind.
I turn into myself
& wish me anew.
my fingers cupping and twirling
so gracefully...
caressing...
as I scream my confessions
I'm born again.
Oct 24, 2022
Oct 24, 2022 at 10:53 PM UTC
Your laugh was a cloud
Loud
Enveloping
Mist which covered me without the
slightest resistance
insistence
I needed assistance to breathe
Your laugh shows I'm useful
shows there's a need
For us
as I feed on the delicious awkwardness we
shared
Caught unawares by being liked
It's a shame your laugh
was the cloud which hid
a trucks headlights
crash
shared
spent
Your laugh a narcotic cloud I refuse to repent
Jan 12, 2015
Jan 12, 2015 at 4:13 PM UTC
I don't understand
Why we claim we're human
When we tear each other down
Hurt each others feelings
Because we're too small minded
To accept that we are different
Instead we become hateful
Acting stupid and illiterate
**** the minorities' spirits
Make them feel insignificant
We teach every generation
That being gay is a sin
Then turn around and say
We're all God's children
There are so many thoughts in my mind
I don't even know where to begin
So I'll begin with this thing
That they call sin
God makes us exactly
How we are
The differences we have
Are to set us apart
So we shine brighter than the stars
So I don't know why man
Would turn around
And say on judgement day
All gay men will repent and pray
Cause they won't be allowed
Into heaven
Simply because they loved men and not women
Say the "homos"
Are lost and will never be found
The hate towards gay men
Is a sound too loud
The other day
An innocent man who was gay
Was killed by a homophobic crowd
When I heard of this news
My heart dropped and frowned
I don't understand
How man can be so proud
So send an innocent soul
Six feet into the ground
So tell me
You so called Christians
With your egos so large
Who do you think you are?
God said we should not judge
You walk around like you're perfect
But I see a smudge
From the lack of innocence
You carry on your sleeve
With your head in the clouds
Saying God created
Adam and Eve
Not Adam and Steve
Thinking you see all things
Through God
But really
You're blinded by hate
And all I can do is wait
For the day we stand in heaven
And await our fate
And hear God say
To all the men that are straight
"There is nothing wrong
With being gay
Because in my kingdom
That's how these men were made"
Oct 4, 2014
Oct 4, 2014 at 9:25 AM UTC
Amazing Grace: your gift for all. So amazing your grace that you would die for us sinners on a cross in shame and agony though sinless yourself.
How Sweet the Sound: to hear "your sins are absolved"
That Saved a Wretch Like Me: Compared to your perfection and glory we are truly wretched. All blackened by sin, but because of your death on a cross not by water or blood, but by water and blood we are saved and washed clean and white. The only chance we have of getting into heaven is by your gift of Amazing Grace.
I Once Was Lost: like a sheep who strays from the flock and wanders off
But Now Am Found: I am safe and sound in your arms once again. You rescue me from danger and bring me back safe and sound.
Was Blind: because of sin and my faults, wrapped up in a blanket of hurting and lies.
But Now I See: the magnitude of this gift you give and because of your death, the pure spotless lamb, and the cleansing blood you shed for me and for many that sins might be forgiven.
'Twas Grace That Taught My Heart To Fear: fear you in a deep respect for your power, fear of not having you always there and fear of satan and the cost of sin.
And Grace My Fears Relieved: I used to fear what would happen if I sinned and I still fear as I should always, but I take comfort in the knowledge that when I sincerely repent, do my best to sin no more, and to avoid the things that lead me to sin I will be forgiven.
How Precious Did That Grace Appear: It is by Grace and Grace alone that we are saved and indeed how precious, how special Grace was as it appeared to me
The Hour I First Believed: The hour I came to believe in you Jesus my Savior who shed your blood, died and rose again that I might live!
May 9, 2014
May 9, 2014 at 8:50 PM UTC
Good sir, one thing I owe to you: to tell you that I hate thee true.
Your sly advances show for real that I am but your body's meal,
to be deliciously consumed, and have my sanctity be doomed.
Repent, oh Devil, back to Hell! Sink back into your slimy well
where from its spout burst tongues of fire to feed your wretched, black desire.
And if you do not go today then under Earth and dirt you'll lay.
I'll see that you ne'er have a breath until you've met your certain death.
You call yourself a pious soul, yet crying's God's name you take me whole.
You choke me up in your embrace, and tell me I'll be filled with "grace."
Thy love is but a dark snake's skin, which when once shed shows what's within.
Thy hands like teeth about to clench. The stink from out your mouth doth stench
-just like the rotting fumes of graves and poisoning the prey it craves.
Ah, sir, if you are even that. You pull your tricks out of a hat.
But I can see the trickery and magic so it's plain to see:
you do not love me for myself, you'd use me; put me on a shelf
- another token that you've won.
But put quite simply, sir, I'm done.
Dec 13, 2016
Dec 13, 2016 at 10:50 AM UTC
If loving you is a crime,
Then I am guilty, yes I am.
I'll admit it all this time,
I loved you, as a woman, as a fan.
No need to hide the screaming reality.
There's no escape from my insanity.
Don't ask me where my fearless passion started.
For I don't know, I just found my self addicted.
You change my life without trying
You set my heart in jail, and I'm crying.
I dream to walk with you under the moonlight.
Stealing a moment,
To hold your hand for the entire night.
Your lips and smiles makes me shiver
As I stare at your eyes, crime has overpower.
I committed the crime,
But I'm the one who been murdered.
By the way your body move,
With the music your group rendered.
An arrow from your bow struck my heart.
Love arrest my innocent soul from the start.
But I don't repent this crime I did.
For stealing your heart is all I wanted.
Call me crazy, but I don't care
I won't look back for the word fear.
Punishment of pain might await.
Let me be judged by the law of fate.
Oh my love, I'm a sinner , yes I am,
Because loving you from the start is all I've done.
Mar 11, 2019
Mar 11, 2019 at 10:07 PM UTC
In the rectory garden on his evening walk
Paced brisk Father Shawn. A cold day, a sodden one it was
In black November. After a sliding rain
Dew stood in chill sweat on each stalk,
Each thorn; spiring from wet earth, a blue haze
Hung caught in dark-webbed branches like a fabulous heron.
Hauled sudden from solitude,
Hair prickling on his head,
Father Shawn perceived a ghost
Shaping itself from that mist.
'How now,' Father Shawn crisply addressed the ghost
Wavering there, gauze-edged, smelling of woodsmoke,
'What manner of business are you on?
From your blue pallor, I'd say you inhabited the frozen waste
Of hell, and not the fiery part. Yet to judge by that dazzled look,
That noble mien, perhaps you've late quitted heaven?'
In voice furred with frost,
Ghost said to priest:
'Neither of those countries do I frequent:
Earth is my haunt.'
'Come, come,' Father Shawn gave an impatient shrug,
'I don't ask you to spin some ridiculous fable
Of gilded harps or gnawing fire: simply tell
After your life's end, what just epilogue
God ordained to follow up your days. Is it such trouble
To satisfy the questions of a curious old fool?'
'In life, love gnawed my skin
To this white bone;
What love did then, love does now:
Gnaws me through.'
'What love,' asked Father Shawn, 'but too great love
Of flawed earth-flesh could cause this sorry pass?
Some ****** condition you are in:
Thinking never to have left the world, you grieve
As though alive, shriveling in torment thus
To atone as shade for sin that lured blind man.'
'The day of doom
Is not yest come.
Until that time
A crock of dust is my dear hom.'
'Fond phantom,' cried shocked Father Shawn,
'Can there be such stubbornness--
A soul grown feverish, clutching its dead body-tree
Like a last storm-crossed leaf? Best get you gone
To judgment in a higher court of grace.
Repent, depart, before God's trump-crack splits the sky.'
From that pale mist
Ghost swore to priest:
'There sits no higher court
Than man's red heart.'
7.7k
Give me back my broken night
my mirrored room, my secret life
it's lonely here,
there's no one left to torture
Give me absolute control
over every living soul
And lie beside me, baby,
that's an order!
Give me crack and **** ***
Take the only tree that's left
and stuff it up the hole
in your culture
Give me back the Berlin wall
give me Stalin and St Paul
I've seen the future, brother:
it is ******
Things are going to slide, slide in all directions
Won't be nothing
Nothing you can measure anymore
The blizzard, the blizzard of the world
has crossed the threshold
and it has overturned
the order of the soul
When they said REPENT REPENT
I wonder what they meant
When they said REPENT REPENT
I wonder what they meant
When they said REPENT REPENT
I wonder what they meant
You don't know me from the wind
you never will, you never did
I'm the little jew
who wrote the Bible
I've seen the nations rise and fall
I've heard their stories, heard them all
but love's the only engine of survival
Your servant here, he has been told
to say it clear, to say it cold:
It's over, it ain't going
any further
And now the wheels of heaven stop
you feel the devil's riding crop
Get ready for the future:
it is ******
Things are going to slide ...
There'll be the breaking of the ancient
western code
Your private life will suddenly explode
There'll be phantoms
There'll be fires on the road
and the white man dancing
You'll see a woman
hanging upside down
her features covered by her fallen gown
and all the lousy little poets
coming round
tryin' to sound like Charlie Manson
and the white man dancin'
Give me back the Berlin wall
Give me Stalin and St Paul
Give me Christ
or give me Hiroshima
Destroy another fetus now
We don't like children anyhow
I've seen the future, baby:
it is ******
Things are going to slide ...
When they said REPENT REPENT ...
7.4k
Like a male monkey you rises up
And thumps hard your chest-it is you and you only!
O Man! You forgets, who you are and what you are is Nature’s
She generously gives and she avariciously takes-
Just a few chances she is giving you to repent before she ruthlessly returns
She is a sharp, doubled edged sword-merciful and merciless!
Man, Humanity is not hostility: Humanity is humility!
Like Sheol that is never satisfied you want to swallow the whole world
Like death you want to take everything, big-small-you want to stomach all
Everything you want to keep to yourself, to be to your entitlements
You take and leave nothing at all for the harmless hopeless-the voiceless
Yet you easily forgets, when the angel of death calls it’s only you and your soul in burials
Your ill amassed pride, wealth and health is not with you anywhere in this your brutal trials
Man, Humanity is not gullibility: Humanity is generosity!
O man! O man! You fills the whole world with mortality
You have killed the sole essence of the soul’s endless immortality
With your undignified dishonesty, your free-will to filthy immorality
War you begins wealthy to get-war is a supernormal profiting business
Man, Humanity souls has never been subjects to severity but sanctity!
Innocent-as little as little children-you murders-they were inevitable!
Common civilians’ deaths are collateral damages-inescapable!
You forgets who you are-you are a little loaned, little you returns for judgment
Here no allies to look after your backs, no cracks to corruption kickbacks-
It is the fairest of all hearings, a ***** for a ***** it is not for a big spoon!
Man, Humanity is not ignobility: Humanity is dignity!
What you are given to govern you governs not
What you are given to take care of you pilfers all
For you and your lineages eternal legacies-the richest ever to have graced the earth!
Yet you forgets, Master a little while returns to put you to a rigorous account
And whoever much is given-that much is also expected, what will be your report?
Man, Humanity is not royalty: Humanity is loyalty!
Humanity is a community, not a sorority of individuality!
Humanity is not infidelity: Humanity is honesty
Humanity is not how wealthy: Humanity is how a loyal legacy
Humanity is not how large is your multinationals entity:
Humanity is how huge is your small heart-its hospitality
Humanity is a humble history, a saintly story!
© Kìùra Kabiri. All rights reserved.
Feb 17, 2017
Feb 17, 2017 at 1:23 AM UTC
you can't make a flower grow
by telling it you love it,
by telling it it's beautiful.
a flower will continue to wither away,
even if you keep saying "I'm here for you."
when winter comes and the flower begins to die,
telling the flower "it gets better" won't warm the temperature.
don't try to nurture a flower you picked.
it will never be safer in your hands,
than it was in the grass.
flowers will dry when you rip them from the roots.
don't look at a brown flower,
and ask it "whats wrong".
it wouldn't tell you
even if it could talk.
don't lie to the flower
and say "its going to be okay"
because you put it in a vase.
the flower knows its not the same.
don't bother saying "you're not alone"
because flowers die all the time,
it already knows.
the flower is still on its own.
you can't glue the petals back on,
after you've plucked them all for a game.
she probably doesn't love you,
and the flower is not to blame.
you can't straighten out the stem,
after you've stepped on it in passing.
it will always be bent
even if you repent.
"i didn't mean to" means nothing to a flower
after you leave it in the dark.
it doesn't matter what you've said,
the flower is already dead.
a withered and dry flower,
will not stand up and turn green
just because you love it.
these things are simple facts,
its how nature works,
and nature will never love you back.
i know you're really trying,
and doing everything you can.
but without water and sun,
the flower will keep dying.
Oct 19, 2015
Oct 19, 2015 at 1:52 AM UTC
Table full
portions grand
colors and flavors
tempt and persuade.
We want for not
the bounty received
thankful for blessings
pleasantries and conversation between.
Recall when rich
with family
with friends
we rarely repent
having acquired our full share.
Dec 8, 2014
Dec 8, 2014 at 10:09 AM UTC
It lingers between small talks,
things best left unsaid.
All that remains
is the silence, so dead.
Nervous, little peeks
when the eyes refuse to meet.
That lump in your throat
at every heartfelt greet.
Staring into empty space
like you lost your muse.
Why was the courage hidden
if it was of no use?
The mind begins to burn
and the smoke grows thick.
It creeps into the heart
and makes you sick.
The silence then grows
with each passing moment.
Memories cloud your eyes
and make you repent.
The tongue begins to sting.
So much to be said.
Yet, all that ever remains
is the silence, so dead.
Things remain unsaid
when words begin to fail.
That excuse you make
is just another tall-tale.
That tension in the air
when you pass each other by.
That lump in your throat
stays, and you wonder why.
Dodging the questions
for there are no answers.
Wishing for things to go back
to the way they were.
They still linger between small talks,
things which were left unsaid.
All that will ever remain
is the silence lying dead.
Nov 25, 2014
Nov 25, 2014 at 9:18 AM UTC
My enemy let us compete,
in game unique, offbeat.
This is my father's vintage gun,
using it we'll have some fun.
Rules of the game let us fix,
bullet is one, chambers are six.
Rotate the chambers putting bullet in one,
where is the bullet will be known to none.
Pointing each one's head in turn,
we'll pull off the trigger one by one.
At the very outset brain can rend
or game can go till the very end.
Six times of nervous ******
is enough to make the projectile burst.
With anguish and pain looser will yell,
very soon his soul will reach fiery hell.
Winner's anger and hate will get a vent,
future will give him enough time to repent.
My enemy let us compete,
in game unique, offbeat.
Nov 29, 2014
Nov 29, 2014 at 11:30 AM UTC
a false hope,
mindless optimism,
delusion.
an unattainable target,
an unachievable goal,
self pity.
a false hope,
misunderstanding,
regret.
love,
or not,
forget.
remember,
repent,
rejuvenate.
forget,
fall,
repeat.
Oct 18, 2012
Oct 18, 2012 at 5:41 PM UTC
Warm lips
eagerly met
tears fall
soaking wet
hot embrace
face to face
family forgotten
lovers eyes
hypnotise
hunger spent
lovers repent
leave in a daze
memory sways
husband and wife
another life
Apr 24, 2013
Apr 24, 2013 at 4:46 AM UTC
In the West I learned western hospitality
Free spirit, free drugs, more ***** more love
If you can remember your problem your doing it wrong
But if you forget your responsibilities you're not worth much
Party everyday pretend you don't understand the methods of your madness
Walk the streets half naked in half a foot of snow
Party, study, party, study
party, party, party
CHURCH
repent and once it strikes midnight start again.
In the North I learned Northern hospitality
It's called minding your business
It's called I have to get somewhere
If you have a question you also have a smart phone
It's not my job to tell you the norm.
You'll figure it out
I learned to walk fast, speak briskly and tell everyone to mind their own business
In the South I learned Southern hospitality
It's where people talk nice to your face and ***** behind your back
It's where the idea of ownership has stemmed way before the monogram
It's where if they only have two faces they are genuine and where they'll feed you fresh apple pie
filled with arsenic
Where you can trust your neighbor only as far as you can throw them
Where everyone's a little racist, a little homophobic, a little god-fearing
In the South I learned
Hospitality
--------------------------------------------------------
A/N
I was born and raised in Denver, Colorado.
Currently I reside in North Carolina.
Oct 23, 2013
Oct 23, 2013 at 4:54 PM UTC
In this river while rowing your boat
hey there ! you hasty toad
you did not check for the banks
and flowed through the ranks
the trees are not anymore
by your side like before
the birds don't sing here
no sign of land far or near
in your attention for the twists and turns
like you ignored the face and saw just the sideburns
you were driven by an unquenched thrist
you repent what you left behind, now hurt
fishes so big, in this depth, your heart is now sunken,
in search of sweet happiness you have reached the *salty ocean*
Jul 3, 2015
Jul 3, 2015 at 11:59 PM UTC
O might those sighs and tears return again
Into my breast and eyes, which I have spent,
That I might in this holy discontent
Mourn with some fruit, as I have mourned in vain;
In mine Idolatry what showers of rain
Mine eyes did waste! what griefs my heart did rent!
That sufferance was my sin; now I repent;
‘Cause I did suffer I must suffer pain.
Th’ hydropic drunkard, and night-scouting thief,
The itchy lecher, and self-tickling proud
Have the remembrance of past joys for relief
Of comming ills. To (poor) me is allowed
No ease; for long, yet vehement grief hath been
Th’ effect and cause, the punishment and sin.
5k
As days jitter by gleamed with such sheer and merry,
Then comes the memoriam-filled allegory;
Called the times of meditation and redemption,
Purple-shrouded cloth with blood has brought salvation.
40 days to drop down and be poured on ashes,
40 nights to commemorate for such dashes;
A memoir to be sung, flinging an elegy,
Sacrifice of the Son tuned to a eulogy.
But have no disheartened faith heard on stricken grief,
For a promise of sacrifice is worth that brief;
It’s the moment to recall, repent, and renew,
Making a mark not turn to long the past askew.
Lenten season speaks of turning from the darkness,
Losing a part to share with Him pure happiness;
Just as Christ suffered for the shortcomings of men,
His Church must respect and join for the time given.
So do not grieve for his loss, or that of your own,
It will be worth such a gain and it shall be sown;
For that choice, a short-time loss is a long-time gain,
With God, He provides us courage to surpass pain.
Such as to come thwart on our midst His forthcoming,
Prepare not only now but till life deems rusting;
But until time hovers to an eternal halt,
Apprehend, amend on such light and grave faults.
Jul 6, 2014
Jul 6, 2014 at 9:14 PM UTC