Redemption

What is your definition of redemption? Is it salvation? Are you religious? Do you believe in the power of the self? Would you like to share a moral tale perhaps?

Rules

* new writes only
* poetry or prose
* collabs allowed
* one entry per person.
* 2 weeks

cool comp..I'll b back, Missy :-)

Am I Redeemable?

I am a sinner
And I'm probably going to sin again
I try not to
But I can't help it

I ask for forgiveness
Yet I repeat my sins
Over and over again
Because I tell myself that I am forgiven

I just can't help it

I fear that I may never get to see heaven
No matter how much I repent
Or how much I pray

I fear that I may never get to delight in God's glory
I may never get to see those who were dear to me who lived their lives justly
And I may never know what eternal peace is

I fear that all of my days and nights will be filled with torment
That demons will amuse themselves by mutilating my spiritual body
And that I will burn for the whole of eternity

I fear that I will starve and become dehydrated forever
That I will have no human contact only sounds of tortured screams
And that I will become insane with my mind not being allowed to fully reach that stage

I am a sinner
And I'm probably going to sin again
I try not to
But I just can't help it

(I hope this is sort of what you were looking for?)

“Three More Dead in Wardak”
http://static.guim.co.uk/sys-images/Guardian/Pix/pixies/2009/6/24/1245871939545/Shawal-Valley-in-North-Wa-001.jpg
(Sickly-Sweet Redemption)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MR87LsmXzBs
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OPnFccnvMeE

Our place above the clouds
gave us perfect vision,
we could see the goat trails,
every rapid on the river,
all the ravines,
there was only one way in
to our own private Idaho.
We had gathered reliable intel,
we were after the worst of the worst,
one of the local masterminds
to rape, murder and  drug running.  
He even had direct-ties to
a global terrorist network,
was involved in some high-level planning,
bombings on planes, trains, and
some double-decker busses
in an English-speaking country.
We were told,
“Failure was not an option,
stay as long as it takes.”
So him (designated Pistol Pete)
or anybody else coming
into our neck of the woods
would not be leaving.

Three days prior,
the bird had dropped us in
under the cover of darkness,
there was no moon  when
we slipped down the static line,
all of our buckles had been taped,
and we brought our equalizers
along with the ammunition we needed
to complete the mission.

Our ‘camo’ was perfect,
the stringy-Ghillies
blended in beautifully
with the surrounding rock,
we were positive no souls could see us.

“Miss Betty”,
my three-three-eight,
was at the ready,
constantly cocked,
had a round chambered.
My gloved hands, one
with the index finger cut out,
the other whole,
cradled her like a newborn child.
She was my baby,
had never let me down,
seven notches.

Mullins (not his real name) was my battle-buddy,
we had done this before,
counted on each other through thick and thin,
we always came prepared to win.
We took turns napping,
one of us was always up,
we didn’t want to miss the show,
our high-value target(s).

At 0612 on the fourth day
we had movement on the trail
just across the Helmand tributary.
Three bearded men wearing Pakols
and slinging Kalashnikovs
were moving slowly
into the kill zone.
Mullins quickly id’d the guy
in the center as the bad dude,
the one we wanted,
but we were positive
the others were kindred spirits.
We quickly agreed all three had to go.
He would take one and two,
I would take the middle one,
the grand prize, the head honcho.

We took our positions, focused,
it was all automatic pilot now.
Simultaneously we counted and performed our duty-
three-two-one-breath-release-breath-release
breath-release-squeeze-breath.
Pop, I saw a head mist red.
Pop, he said bingo, too.
Then Mullins chambered again……….pop,
the last one dropped in a crimson-cloud.
It was impressive,
over in just seconds,
and wasn’t really that loud,
‘cause we were suppressed.

A warm-wind blew up the valley,
we heard the goats screaming,
“maaaa-maaaaa, maaaa-maaaa”
a dog barked in the distance, but
no other human activity was
seen or comprehended.
It was just three dead bodies,
some goats, a faraway dog,
and the two of us
radioing in
for the dust off.

We held hands and I prayed in a low tone,

“May God Bless those dead people,
our families back home and
grant my battle buddy and me
absolution for our sins.
Amen.”

That ended my special requests,
our mission was now complete,
we'd be going home soon,
Jesus, who knew redemption
could be so sickly-sweet?!

http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nxioCa9o3yI/UX51UcFyfAI/AAAAAAAAMbY/jr9T0OiK3-4/s200/Prayer+siloutte.jpeg

REDEMPTIO


Lord, do not punish me in your rage
For my perpetual sinning
Although you created me
In your own image
Imitatio Dei is so hard for me
Each time I try, I fall short of your grace

Lord, I am sick, I have no strength
Heal me, my body is racked with pain
My soul is racked with remorse
I am exhausted from groaning at night
My tears drench my pillow

Lord have mercy on me
Save me in your merciful love

Lord, I am a lost sheep
Find me and bring me home

Lord have mercy on me
For truly I have tried to atone

Wow, thank you for your entries so far! Inviting more

Rejecting Redemption

Blackened heart
Rising from the ashes
Incinerated from fire of hell
Not literally
Only metaphorically
But my imaginings are just as well

Rejecting a savior
Challenging the dark one
Seeking a middle ground
There seems none
I must pick one
At least that's what I hear around

Could I ever be saved?
I know this not
But hell makes me shiver in fear
I hesitate surrender
Commitment forever
With all my questions right here

Sins so addicting
Don't wanna give up
The things I love doing so much
I hate religions
These stories of crimson
And talk of a holy saving touch

I hate feeling weak
Needing someone big
I force myself up on my own
I will survive
Won't make it out alive
But either way I guess I'm home

Alone

Hollow    hollow    
and certainely i taste raw dark silence    
crumpled in crippled hazy night    
travelling passive between shadows    
of stair cases
poisoned sins smudging      
across dense purest air    
gravels fierce piercing heart    
the loneliness quenching    
flowing paitence    
deserting the black knife paintings    
 
seeking magic insane grasp    
responding to agony    
cold and burnt    
 
fixing inwards smoldering thoughts    
stumbling sights brush across    
murky ashes slithering imaginations    
dreams lusting my pale window panes    
abandoned and naked    
across caressed starlit sky  
casting diabolic  
ink addicted  
in it's spirit's  
howl  
blowing candles in mystic
bloated peace
redeeming the deafening
sanity.

my father married my mother
when I was five years old

the dude that knocked her up
was long gone, my only memory
him drinking quarts of beer
out of brown bags
and puking up blood

earliest memories of pop
the man who raised me
was visiting him upstate
in prison

he was thirty three when he got out
married my mom
and flew as straight
as a man
drunk on family
and freedom
is willing to

worked throughout my childhood
to get out us out of the areas
where white trash burdens black neighbors
and put us in a school
where the kids get cars
for birthdays

I was the first of the kids
to go to college, went to Art School
grew dreadlocks, wrapped crystals in them
traveled my country in a psychedelic circus
went far enough along the road of wing nut
to offer pop a lifetime of catching shit on jobsites
if pop was the taking shit type
which he wasn't

I could help him
bleed the brakes on the Chevy
love a woman with solid steel grace
and respect like he did my mother
keep quiet when the fishing line
hits water

could keep quiet

lost pop when I was twenty
and went the way of weak
where the darks
stitch mud into lavender

pop would have backhanded
the moments before
any of that selfish bullshit started
into last week
but it took me ten years
to feel the sandpaper
caring callouses
of the mans hands

got myself hemmed up
my time a lot less hard
than his

I was thirty
when I resembled
a sort of man
that my pop
would shake hands with

thirty three now
and softer from smart
than the man who raised me
but if there is a bar
where the men like him and I go
when we pass, which there must be
I will toast to the tales
that take decades to tell

and

I will tell him all about
my ol' lady
and her two boys

to all I have wronged  i ask your forgiveness
whether not an option i seek for a nod
see often I dabble, flirting with fire
crash and burn, forgive me for I have sinned.

no longer a child  learning still there is room
for growth, space to be consumed with knowledge
I did not know what now is clear
stepping forward, progressing towards redemption.

Some absolute belters in here, thanks for entering so far guys. Inviting more entries, not long until the end of the competition now!

tongue in nose

lettuce re-deem ahh...selves
hear the rain falls plane
swimming threw the baud-ies ajar
that coal-lie-did infinitely

i saw pur-versions in half
and trep-idati-on full on in-timid-a-ting
the spy-ying I's of the sky oh-were
they were all meut

the four-front G-listens
with REM-nints of true-th sea-kurs
from A tie-im B 4 the prez-unt
are-rye-wing own lee to lur-urn

that red-emption kah-unt be sawt.

does this qualify missy?

in moments thoughts of god creep in


The sky is angry
violent trembles are shedding its breast
in a feeble attempt to reach for everything
that never had a pulse begin to quake
in fear of a guttural response from deft vocal chords

one that festers the rain to cry out
in a pain I've grown to shelter
sputtering
stuttering
racking the underbelly of nothing
yet inviting a tectonic shift lowly demons can never witness

and if there is a heaven
beyond all the whore stars and misplaced childhood dreams
I know it's spleen was cracked straight down the middle
the jugular has been split instantaneously
and the bellows of naked redemption
hang tired upon meat hooks soaked in penance

it's barring apt tattoos prostituted by the (un)justified
and painting a car crash I have yet to suffocate

so why do I find comfort in it's sandpaper language
stroking me raw in a sirens tease
when I decided I hated the sound of music years ago
even though I still listen to post grunge and dying faith
like I'll find that salvaged apathy lost on a sinners tongue

Redemption Unfolding

I once thought that I needed vindication to obtain redemption
running scared and frantic, falsely accused
by a devil in disguise
shunned from the company of those who ate the lies
always alone, never knowing why

I ran from the antagonist and only rumors followed
innocent but convicted
free but serving time
I tried to clear the record, restore my tainted name

I found out the hard way that life would not be fair

and still,
the dark source plays puppet-master
delusion provider, woman of the century
oh high holy martyr
still telling spiteful fibs about me and my life
one she's never known anything about
pulling the strings to harden my plight

solitary confinement, dying, and mute
brain-dead and sedated
she'd have me that way if she could

but,
though the sting of betrayal still burns me sometimes
and my questions on loyalty still flare here and there
and tears still surprise me when I try grasping logic
not on the instigator, just those who bought it

for the most part, I'm over it
I rise above every low ball she throws
and I don't need friends that are enemies, to pose

and lately, there's been a hint of my innocence
playing on the minds of a few awakened souls
little facts and points, contradictions appearing
I can feel the air clearing

too late. too bad.

I knew up front that truth would have my back
even drowning in tears, I forecast my last laugh

when I gave up on respecting their opinions
realized the queen was evil, as were her disciples
and started living my life, valuing my time
before it was me who had to die

when I admitted they were toxic
said goodbye and left them
chin up and heading in my own direction
I was delivered

but, lately
as the tall-tales grow weak
and the facts start to surface

the most they'll get is a difficult lesson
while I enjoy the glow of my own redmption