Long Spiritual Poems
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poetry which debates religion, atheism and New Age spirituality
Long poems (300 words or more), most recently posted poems first.
MalcolmG
Poem Published
30th Nov 2024 5:15am
30th Nov 2024 5:15am
A Choir of Lies
In the halls of guilt, where coins
sing like crickets in the dark,
their psalms rise, a lattice of smoke
curling from a dying flame.
fear not the sins of others,
rather the sins of their own,
more than the sins of devil,
It's the sins of the Father after all.
The altar gleams, not with divinity,
but with the cold sheen of rivers
choked by gold. Their voices echo,
hollow gourds beaten by the wind,
each note a shard of glass
pressed against the throat of belief.
Abaddon watches like a stormcloud ...
sing like crickets in the dark,
their psalms rise, a lattice of smoke
curling from a dying flame.
fear not the sins of others,
rather the sins of their own,
more than the sins of devil,
It's the sins of the Father after all.
The altar gleams, not with divinity,
but with the cold sheen of rivers
choked by gold. Their voices echo,
hollow gourds beaten by the wind,
each note a shard of glass
pressed against the throat of belief.
Abaddon watches like a stormcloud ...
#Christian
#God
#heaven #religion
#heaven #religion
50 reads
2 Comments
PeaceFlpw
Peace Flow
Peace Flow
Poem Published
29th Nov 2024 10:27am
29th Nov 2024 10:27am
Solid, Liquid, Gas....
one often obsesses about concepts of "life after death"; imagined round about ways to glimpse "there"-nothing less than lucid;
one admits that one's heavily bound by the solid exterior that is flesh; blissfully yet cognitively navigating this realm like liquid- in often wonder of during/after the "gas" aspect when there's no more body left;
the physical on so many levels drives this soul to want to know- what happens when there's no more dance- no more obstacles- no more minstrel show;
...
one admits that one's heavily bound by the solid exterior that is flesh; blissfully yet cognitively navigating this realm like liquid- in often wonder of during/after the "gas" aspect when there's no more body left;
the physical on so many levels drives this soul to want to know- what happens when there's no more dance- no more obstacles- no more minstrel show;
...
#escape
#freedom
#peace #spiritual
#peace #spiritual
82 reads
FionaScout2323
Poem Published
27th Nov 2024 11:37pm
27th Nov 2024 11:37pm
Poetry and Silence
Its always the quiet dead silence that captivates me
In a sea where my imagination takes flight
The feelings of ecstasy that comes from pure beautiful creations
Music to my ears of beautiful words of poetry
Or sometimes just the dead silence
Something in me needs healing
A irritation a itch that’s not easy to scratch
Possibly maybe this is my key to that itch
I don’t know well see
If writing my inner deep world may just be the ticket here
When life seems bland and people know exactly how to get under your skin
Anger boils and...
In a sea where my imagination takes flight
The feelings of ecstasy that comes from pure beautiful creations
Music to my ears of beautiful words of poetry
Or sometimes just the dead silence
Something in me needs healing
A irritation a itch that’s not easy to scratch
Possibly maybe this is my key to that itch
I don’t know well see
If writing my inner deep world may just be the ticket here
When life seems bland and people know exactly how to get under your skin
Anger boils and...
#spiritual
42 reads
0 Comments
CasketSharpe
Poem Published
22nd Nov 2024 12:10pm
22nd Nov 2024 12:10pm
Bathroom Church
The reason I don’t go to church, because it’s full of shit
Honestly, a real man can recognize a sucka-ass pimp,
“Twisting the message of the Bible into his own word play
Seasoning the congregation for Hell every motherfuckin Sunday,
“Bible study Wednesday, fish fry Friday
Don’t come knocking on my door to preach that shit no day,
“I might be watching my Hellraiser marathon or trying to fuck
I will answer the door asshole naked and ask ‘what’s up?’
“Straight from the visual they will know shit ain’t right
And it...
Honestly, a real man can recognize a sucka-ass pimp,
“Twisting the message of the Bible into his own word play
Seasoning the congregation for Hell every motherfuckin Sunday,
“Bible study Wednesday, fish fry Friday
Don’t come knocking on my door to preach that shit no day,
“I might be watching my Hellraiser marathon or trying to fuck
I will answer the door asshole naked and ask ‘what’s up?’
“Straight from the visual they will know shit ain’t right
And it...
#betrayal
#religion
80 reads
5 Comments
MalcolmG
Poem Published
19th Nov 2024 7:53pm
19th Nov 2024 7:53pm
Lust and the Devil
I am told that the devil is a name
spoken only by the wicked and fearful,
a shadow cast on by the soul's yearning,
an accusation that stains the lips.
But yet they speaks of righteousness,
when their body trembles with desire?
"Who then amongst you dares to call lust a sin or immoral, when it beats like fire deep within your soul, the pulse of your life itself, breathing flames into the hollows of your hungry heart?"
It pulls the heart, it stirs the mind,
A craving wild, a tie that binds the blind.
but in its wake, the soul...
spoken only by the wicked and fearful,
a shadow cast on by the soul's yearning,
an accusation that stains the lips.
But yet they speaks of righteousness,
when their body trembles with desire?
"Who then amongst you dares to call lust a sin or immoral, when it beats like fire deep within your soul, the pulse of your life itself, breathing flames into the hollows of your hungry heart?"
It pulls the heart, it stirs the mind,
A craving wild, a tie that binds the blind.
but in its wake, the soul...
#devil
#lust
#StreamOfConsciousness
67 reads
0 Comments
cabcool
Poem Published
19th Nov 2024 3:31pm
19th Nov 2024 3:31pm
2024 November Poems >> i fathom not why He should choose the least
No. 08
i fathom not why He should choose the least
an awe-inspired confessional
Remembering Eerie
“It is not death that a man should fear,
but he should fear never beginning to live.”―Marcus Aurelius
i wonder if it's almost time to die,
because my bloom is as the century palm
whose shoot with fragrance paints the evening sky
of spikenard, for its withering of calm.
am i the thornbird with his sweetest song, ...
i fathom not why He should choose the least
an awe-inspired confessional
Remembering Eerie
“It is not death that a man should fear,
but he should fear never beginning to live.”―Marcus Aurelius
i wonder if it's almost time to die,
because my bloom is as the century palm
whose shoot with fragrance paints the evening sky
of spikenard, for its withering of calm.
am i the thornbird with his sweetest song, ...
#death
#grief
#memorial #respect
#memorial #respect
50 reads
0 Comments
MalcolmG
Poem Published
5th Nov 2024 2:20am
5th Nov 2024 2:20am
Letters To Heaven
I wrote you a letter, I'm wondering why,
I’m left with no answer, no simple reply,
No voice from heaven no voice from the sky. Surely you haven't left ,O God did you die?
Thought you'd ease this burden we all have to bear, but it’s quiet down here, are you actually there?
We live in our fears, tears dripping on faces, People starving, the whole human races is, suffering and homeless, year after year, please give me sign that you can actually hear.
Did you plan this...
I’m left with no answer, no simple reply,
No voice from heaven no voice from the sky. Surely you haven't left ,O God did you die?
Thought you'd ease this burden we all have to bear, but it’s quiet down here, are you actually there?
We live in our fears, tears dripping on faces, People starving, the whole human races is, suffering and homeless, year after year, please give me sign that you can actually hear.
Did you plan this...
#atheism
#devil
#God
#religion
#TruthOfLife
63 reads
0 Comments
ClovenTongue34
Poem Published
3rd Nov 2024 5:40pm
3rd Nov 2024 5:40pm
Lying Sorrows
At the foot of a mountain
Every precipice a false summit
Every peak stands tall but is still just a valley
Tending to dying gardens on repeat
Every season of our glory is temporal
Every breath we take but a means to an end
Caught in routine ruts and count downs to moments of fleeting beauty
Constructing a perishing kingdom
A slow fix for a sinking ship
Capsizing, it’s a losing battle to salvage the vessel
No escapes but for rescues
Living like this is the end all be all
Making our beds in transition
This waiting room...
Every precipice a false summit
Every peak stands tall but is still just a valley
Tending to dying gardens on repeat
Every season of our glory is temporal
Every breath we take but a means to an end
Caught in routine ruts and count downs to moments of fleeting beauty
Constructing a perishing kingdom
A slow fix for a sinking ship
Capsizing, it’s a losing battle to salvage the vessel
No escapes but for rescues
Living like this is the end all be all
Making our beds in transition
This waiting room...
#faith
#LifeCycle
#LifeGoals
#LifeStruggles
#spiritual
49 reads
0 Comments
MalcolmG
Poem Published
30th Oct 2024 8:22pm
30th Oct 2024 8:22pm
In the Shadows of He
In the dim light of ancient halls,
He whispers softly,
We hear his calls,
a friend clothed in shadows,
in smoke and fire they say,
keeping the church alive,
a warm embrace for cold fears,
preaching hellfire and brimstone,
a spire of dread pointing skyward,
where the devil dances,
a charred marionette on strings of sin.
Oh, false doctrines rise like smoke,
a specter, a finger-wagging savior,
teaching dagger and cloak,
“Beware! The adversary lurks,”
they warn with trembling lips,
“He,...
He whispers softly,
We hear his calls,
a friend clothed in shadows,
in smoke and fire they say,
keeping the church alive,
a warm embrace for cold fears,
preaching hellfire and brimstone,
a spire of dread pointing skyward,
where the devil dances,
a charred marionette on strings of sin.
Oh, false doctrines rise like smoke,
a specter, a finger-wagging savior,
teaching dagger and cloak,
“Beware! The adversary lurks,”
they warn with trembling lips,
“He,...
#devil
#God
#magic
#mythology
#religion
65 reads
0 Comments
PAR
Poem Published
28th Oct 2024 12:51pm
28th Oct 2024 12:51pm
Incomplete Myth of a Goddess that Does Not Exist.
Shapska, a name bruited in the dark corners
of forgotten realms where murk
cotillion with the remnants of lost souls.
In the heart of this desolate place Shapska reigns,
a deity of crooked love and morbid allure.
Her touch, both a blessing and a curse,
weaves through the fabric of actuality,
binding the living and the dead in an eternal grasp.
In the silence of the night,
Shapska's presence is felt,
a cold surge stroke that sends
jitters down the spine.
Her eyes, like double voids,
pierce through the mask of...
of forgotten realms where murk
cotillion with the remnants of lost souls.
In the heart of this desolate place Shapska reigns,
a deity of crooked love and morbid allure.
Her touch, both a blessing and a curse,
weaves through the fabric of actuality,
binding the living and the dead in an eternal grasp.
In the silence of the night,
Shapska's presence is felt,
a cold surge stroke that sends
jitters down the spine.
Her eyes, like double voids,
pierce through the mask of...
#dark
#mythology
#religion
#spiritual
#tradition
83 reads
6 Comments
ClovenTongue34
Poem Published
16th Oct 2024 6:58am
16th Oct 2024 6:58am
Illnesses of Mass Destruction
Face to face with life
Am I the blessing or the curse
Weary in the valley
Lost for the temporal beauty of the shadow
Trying to find the words to say it all
Make sense of it and find my peace again
I write letters in a perpetual state of transition
Shouting into the void, the echoes of anguish and hopes that fluctuate between confidence and question
Caught in the in between
Trying to find a sense of home in a world that I don’t belong
Hungry is my exile heart, banished by sabotaged and betrayed affections
As I oscillate between...
Am I the blessing or the curse
Weary in the valley
Lost for the temporal beauty of the shadow
Trying to find the words to say it all
Make sense of it and find my peace again
I write letters in a perpetual state of transition
Shouting into the void, the echoes of anguish and hopes that fluctuate between confidence and question
Caught in the in between
Trying to find a sense of home in a world that I don’t belong
Hungry is my exile heart, banished by sabotaged and betrayed affections
As I oscillate between...
#addiction
#cancer
#Christian
#mother
#sadness
121 reads
2 Comments
crimsin
Unveiling
Unveiling
Poem Published
8th Oct 2024 3:19am
8th Oct 2024 3:19am
epiphanies and throwing rocks
punish me for being
I was pretty once
then I still thought I was beautiful
and maybe I was, because my personality was or wasn't
my person shifts inside
slips in and out of focus and I lose time
forgetting who I am it's always been this way
coming and going these people all reflections of me
sexiness incarnate when my confidence is unshakeable
trembling in my shoes standing in the shadows
terribly mean perhaps even cruel with my words
honesty blushing she is most lovely to me
her melancholy smiles within me ...
I was pretty once
then I still thought I was beautiful
and maybe I was, because my personality was or wasn't
my person shifts inside
slips in and out of focus and I lose time
forgetting who I am it's always been this way
coming and going these people all reflections of me
sexiness incarnate when my confidence is unshakeable
trembling in my shoes standing in the shadows
terribly mean perhaps even cruel with my words
honesty blushing she is most lovely to me
her melancholy smiles within me ...
#angels
#love
#spiritual
117 reads
3 Comments
DU Poetry : Long Spiritual Poems about Religion, Atheism and New Age Spirituality
