Submissions by D_M0ndE99
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
I don't fall under any label, I like to write about everything and anything. Draw my inspiration from God and the the world around me. I like to write about God, the devil, supernatural to everyday things.
LOVE POEM
Published
18th Mar 2014 7:55pm
18th Mar 2014 7:55pm
To My Angel
To my angel
may I find you
someday.
I pray to God
that I will recognize you
when I see you
and not missed you.
I pray that
I will recognize your voice,
your song
when I hear you.
O, I am so hurt
and alone in this world.
may I find you
someday.
I pray to God
that I will recognize you
when I see you
and not missed you.
I pray that
I will recognize your voice,
your song
when I hear you.
O, I am so hurt
and alone in this world.
662 reads
4 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
17th Mar 2014 6:35pm
17th Mar 2014 6:35pm
Snakes and Bells
When Patrick built his Church,
He rung the bell
that was in the tower.
At first toll
it was the sound of thunder.
The noise, terrified the hearts
of every evil spirit and fairy.
Second toll,
The Devil, and the demon host rose
with alarm and petrified.
They heard the sound
of doom.
Third toll,
banshee's keen,
it is the sound,
the sign of death,
of their ways,
their religion is dead.
At the fourth toll,
a great storm wind
expelled every demon
from the land,
like snakes
and the rest of fay,
who held...
He rung the bell
that was in the tower.
At first toll
it was the sound of thunder.
The noise, terrified the hearts
of every evil spirit and fairy.
Second toll,
The Devil, and the demon host rose
with alarm and petrified.
They heard the sound
of doom.
Third toll,
banshee's keen,
it is the sound,
the sign of death,
of their ways,
their religion is dead.
At the fourth toll,
a great storm wind
expelled every demon
from the land,
like snakes
and the rest of fay,
who held...
494 reads
0 Comments
SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
17th Mar 2014 6:33pm
17th Mar 2014 6:33pm
We, the Irish
We, the Irish
are sinners,
the worse sorts
in the world.
We argue and fight
against our fathers,
out mothers, our brothers
and our sisters.
We fight against our families
and friends.
When we are not fighting
our kith and kin,
we are fighting against our foes
and when we are not fighting
against our foes,
we are fighting against the world.
We waste our time
squabbling, quarreling and drinking.
We are worms
in the mud.
Dirt, filthy and unclean.
Our hearts are harden,
and our hands are covered
in...
are sinners,
the worse sorts
in the world.
We argue and fight
against our fathers,
out mothers, our brothers
and our sisters.
We fight against our families
and friends.
When we are not fighting
our kith and kin,
we are fighting against our foes
and when we are not fighting
against our foes,
we are fighting against the world.
We waste our time
squabbling, quarreling and drinking.
We are worms
in the mud.
Dirt, filthy and unclean.
Our hearts are harden,
and our hands are covered
in...
553 reads
SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
15th Mar 2014 3:41pm
15th Mar 2014 3:41pm
I, Patrick, Ambassador
I, Patrick, a sinner
am an ambassador
for Christ
for the Irish,
and so that they will get to know
Christ
to be saved.
I, Patrick,
am not Irish
but I try to find
Common grounds
with the Irish,
to be all things
to all men.
My ambition has always been
to preach the Good News
where the name of Christ
has never been heard,
rather than where a church
has already been started
by someone else.
Nor do I claim credit
for the work someone else has done.
Instead, hope that your faith will...
am an ambassador
for Christ
for the Irish,
and so that they will get to know
Christ
to be saved.
I, Patrick,
am not Irish
but I try to find
Common grounds
with the Irish,
to be all things
to all men.
My ambition has always been
to preach the Good News
where the name of Christ
has never been heard,
rather than where a church
has already been started
by someone else.
Nor do I claim credit
for the work someone else has done.
Instead, hope that your faith will...
561 reads
3 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
15th Mar 2014 3:40pm
15th Mar 2014 3:40pm
Irish Hymn of Thanksgiving
My heart rises up a hymn
to the LORD,
my soul will sing thanksgiving
to the LORD
for saving me
and my family, my friends,
my people, and my country
Ireland,
from false gods, demons
and from our sins.
I thank God
for not giving up
on us,
even when we were hard and stubborn
and for sending his soldier
Patrick, backed up by His Son,
to save us.
to the LORD,
my soul will sing thanksgiving
to the LORD
for saving me
and my family, my friends,
my people, and my country
Ireland,
from false gods, demons
and from our sins.
I thank God
for not giving up
on us,
even when we were hard and stubborn
and for sending his soldier
Patrick, backed up by His Son,
to save us.
522 reads
0 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
14th Mar 2014 4:20pm
14th Mar 2014 4:20pm
True Irish
To be true Irish,
is to remember
the past,
to remember
your history,
remember the face
of your forefathers.
To be Irish
is to remember
the Briish oppression,
the fights,
the wars,
the starvations,
Gorta Mor.
To be true Irish,
is to remember
the past,
to remember
your history,
to remember the face
of your forefathers.
is to remember
the past,
to remember
your history,
remember the face
of your forefathers.
To be Irish
is to remember
the Briish oppression,
the fights,
the wars,
the starvations,
Gorta Mor.
To be true Irish,
is to remember
the past,
to remember
your history,
to remember the face
of your forefathers.
512 reads
0 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
14th Mar 2014 3:48pm
14th Mar 2014 3:48pm
They don't Know Me
They name a day
after me
but they
the world,
don't truly know me.
They name a day after me
but the make a mockery
of me.
They name a day after me,
they donned the green
and got drunk on beer,
the liquor of stupor,
and they think it's all about
leprechauns and Irish pride.
I am so ashamed.
All my efforts had died in vain.
My mission has failed.
This is not what I'm all about.
What happened to God's Salvation?
Where did the Lord's redemption go?
They named a day after me
they make a...
after me
but they
the world,
don't truly know me.
They name a day after me
but the make a mockery
of me.
They name a day after me,
they donned the green
and got drunk on beer,
the liquor of stupor,
and they think it's all about
leprechauns and Irish pride.
I am so ashamed.
All my efforts had died in vain.
My mission has failed.
This is not what I'm all about.
What happened to God's Salvation?
Where did the Lord's redemption go?
They named a day after me
they make a...
524 reads
0 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
13th Mar 2014 6:59pm
13th Mar 2014 6:59pm
What is the Celtic Path?
Where is the Way to Ireland?
What is the Celtic path?
Who has Irish feet?
There can be no Celtic way,
if there's no discipline,
no devotion.
There can be no Celtic way
if there's no path,
and if there's no path
then there's no discipline,
no devotion.
And there would be nothing
to learn.
What is the Celtic path?
Who has Irish feet?
There can be no Celtic way,
if there's no discipline,
no devotion.
There can be no Celtic way
if there's no path,
and if there's no path
then there's no discipline,
no devotion.
And there would be nothing
to learn.
455 reads
0 Comments
FICTIONAL PROSE
Published
13th Mar 2014 6:24pm
13th Mar 2014 6:24pm
In the House of Hibernia
As the idol of Dagon
has fallen and broken before
the Ark of the LORD of Israel,
so shall all idols, shrines
and images fall and break
before the God of Jacob
in the land of Eire.
For there can be no peace
as long as there's witchcraft
in the house of Hibernia.
has fallen and broken before
the Ark of the LORD of Israel,
so shall all idols, shrines
and images fall and break
before the God of Jacob
in the land of Eire.
For there can be no peace
as long as there's witchcraft
in the house of Hibernia.
489 reads
0 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
12th Mar 2014 5:54pm
12th Mar 2014 5:54pm
There is more then to be Green
There is more
to being Irish
then wearing green.
There's more to being Irish
then to know your
leprechauns and banshees.
There is more to be Irish
then drinking beer.
to being Irish
then wearing green.
There's more to being Irish
then to know your
leprechauns and banshees.
There is more to be Irish
then drinking beer.
498 reads
0 Comments
SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
12th Mar 2014 5:35pm
12th Mar 2014 5:35pm
My Lornica
Christ be with me.
Be with me
when I'm at home.
Christ be with me
when I'm on the road.
Christ in the North
and Christ in the South.
Christ be with me
in the West
and in the East.
Christ be with me
among friends and foes.
Christ be with me
during the day
and at night.
Christ be with me
in the darkness
and in the light.
Be with me
when I'm at home.
Christ be with me
when I'm on the road.
Christ in the North
and Christ in the South.
Christ be with me
in the West
and in the East.
Christ be with me
among friends and foes.
Christ be with me
during the day
and at night.
Christ be with me
in the darkness
and in the light.
553 reads
3 Comments
FICTIONAL PROSE
Published
10th Mar 2014 7:21pm
10th Mar 2014 7:21pm
Proud Morgan
Morgan
held her black head high
proud and defiant.
She refused to give up
to the missionary.
The goddess refuses
to submit to God.
It is not in her,
a Queen
to bow to the King of Kings.
She refused to give in
to The New Religion,
The New Way.
"Bring out the ravens,
bring out the crows,
let's make war,"
she said,
"I rather make war
then to fade away
into darkness.
held her black head high
proud and defiant.
She refused to give up
to the missionary.
The goddess refuses
to submit to God.
It is not in her,
a Queen
to bow to the King of Kings.
She refused to give in
to The New Religion,
The New Way.
"Bring out the ravens,
bring out the crows,
let's make war,"
she said,
"I rather make war
then to fade away
into darkness.
483 reads
0 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by D_M0ndE99
