Best Prophets Poems


Premium Member Politicians, Preachers and Prophets

“And for what, except for you,
do I feel love”
Wallace Stevens 


Concealed in full view
there are sanctuaries where you
can go when the shrill noise
of politicians, preachers and prophets 
gets too loud -  the quiet 
of a morning wearing a glossy melt 
of frost honeyed in the glow of first light - 
forest trails winding 
under the whispers of tall trees -
a shoreline slowly emerging
from the stillness of a thick fog
as if it were letting go of a dream 
and at the end of the street, 
a place in the mind where a poem
frees itself from gravity
and with frail wings
lifts itself towards love.

False Prophets

FALSE PROPHETS

They have the word of God as their encyclopedia
They refer and come out to deceive the myopia
They are quick to inform like Wikipedia
Their actions premeditated like the media

About people they always see vision
But their flaws they fail to acknowledge
They come into the field with a weird mission
Therefore always speaking out of knowledge

They don't have an emblem
But by their deeds we know them
They are infected with a germ
Searching to destroy the worm

On scene they help us genuflect
We scream crazily to pay respect
Behind scene they have their own dialect
Communicating with structures they erect

They consult at midnight while mining
They always see our problems from afar
Nothing not even our prayers except their ways can solve that canker
Men in black, all they do is cunning..

FALSE PROPHETS THAT'S WHAT YOU ARE
Form: Lyric

Pamphlets of Prophets

Pamphlets of Prophets

And in the barren face of sanity
I scavenged 
For hope

Hope between the bleeding
Stain

Full forces littered the bodies
Pamphlets of prophets
In useless streets

Streets paved with dead
Dreams

Burning crosses
Burning flags
The caricatures of hate

Hate in the Holy walls and domes of
Jerusalem

And in the coloured face of madness
I found the ever smile
Of borrowed light

Light in the Holy walls and domes of
Death

Death in weeping children sung its dirge
In the sacrificial arms of 
Love

Love ?

What love is there between the ruins of bone and shattered blood
Siren screaming its danger to flesh
This Auschwitz strip
This apocalypse
Is a lament unheeded
Of starved and parchment skeletons
Turning in their graves
Piteous demise of theirs
Wasted
 
Full forces littered the bodies
Pamphlets of prophets
In useless streets
war


Premium Member Pervasive

what is the true pattern of consciousness in this immense universe?
how far into the overwhelming breach has awareness been dispersed?

in the depths of exhaustion, the dark silent stillness nourishes me
universe is full of entities which act surreptitiously

from ignition, our sun has shown each second of every cosmic day
particle exchange has long been the source of our universe's headway

those traits which exemplify humans have uneven distribution
we reside in the crucible of universal evolution

constant flow within our cosmos is mainly a matter of valence
we expand level of consciousness through reality's surveillance

earthly prophets proclaiming simplicity makes words more persuasive
biota which our planet has generated became invasive
providing sudden realization existence is pervasive
© Ng Rippel  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Monoku

Premium Member An Ode To Seven Prophets

Yo,
When I was younger, stronger, faster, phatter!
I saw Bayard Rustin, ascending and descending on bell hooks’ reveries,
And I screamed, from artistic insights,
Of plights and rights, citing Mumia Abu the Baptist,
“MOVING” SOULS to awakening, writing like Melchidezek in a Birmingham Jail,
Christ in Communist imagery,
Mohammed quoting Amos and speaking Barack into the “real”,
The World unknown to slaves of Matrix Madness,
Sad yet Strident,
Che and Jesus, encased in Chrystal prisms,
Of John the Baptist’s prison, 
Different shades of the same spirit,
Freeing seekers from Oppressed Pedagogy,
But the sounds of naked children,
Screaming from the shattered images of Native Prophets denied their right to subdue the earth,
Enraptured my brain, and the thousands slain by South African Nazis,
Brought me to the brink of new beginnings,
Wherein, I war from the inside out,
Watching the sunrise of lies exposed, and young prophets forging emergent imagery,
“Christian”, teaching on the front lines of minds that can breathe anew,
“Dr. T”, slayin’ nightmares of myopic minions clouding the light of the almighty,
“Eli”, the young Jedi, facin’ Dark Forces with a saber tooth intellect,
“Melissa”, demandin’ respect for the forgotten and makin’ miracles for the downtrodden,
“Hugo”, the only begotten of Chi-town expression, taggin spiritual secrets on the backs of
abandoned day dreams,
“Viv”, teachin’ lessons of stress silenced by the strident freedom of angels bustin’ forth
from cocoons of plastic consciousness,
“Leber”, the dreama, of new market creation, in the image of acts, where none know lack, 
And the facts, smack, cracks, in the faces of fat cats who feed on the blindness of hatred,
 These are the prophets of my generation,
And as I weave my seeds of transformation, from a tower of sanctuary,
I look to them on the streets, reaping the harvest renaissance,
And know joy!

Elijah and the Prophets Or Baal

Serving God Or Baal???

The Bible speaks of Elijah who 
challenged the prophets of Baal.
To see who’s God was true.  
And who’s God would fail!

The prophets of Baal cried 
out to their God in vain.
But when Elijah cried to his God... 
Then the fire came!

The people of Israel were astonished
 by what they saw!
Fire from heaven…  Consuming the
 sacrifice, water and all!

Child of God…  There’s a message that 
God wants you to know…
Which God are you serving?  A false one?  
Or the one who loves you so?

Baal (this world), or Jesus…  
The choice must be made!
There’s no middle road.  It’s Jesus… 
 Or being sins’s slave!

Won’t you allow the fire from 
heaven to consume your sin?
Renew your commitment to Jesus… 
 And not sinful men!

By Jim Pemberton
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member The Prophets Elijah and Elisha

.
One
Man 
Prophet
Elijah
Spoke direct to God
God told him anoint Elisha
Elijah passed Elisha plowing cast mantle on him
Twelve men plowing oxen; Elisha was last in line said let him tell his parents goodbye

(Based on 1 Kings 19: 19-21)
Form: Fibonacci

Premium Member Rise Prophets Rise

Rise Prophets Rise

Check This, I know a Medicine Man who spent 10 years doing manual labor,
He is a Genius trapped in an insane world.
I know a woman, Nolana, with the Heart of a Lion and the Soul of a Saint, who doesn’t
 	think that she can lead because of the voices from dead people, with dead hearts,
 	and dead souls.
And yet, I am called higher to love the dead unconditionally and yet I am called higher to
 	love the dead unconditionally, as I attempt to sort out my own insanity.
I know women, so many women, bruised and battered and hiding in shame.
And though I hide too, I want to shake them and say.
You are the future, the past, and the present hope my sisters,
You are medicine women, prophets, teachers, and preachers,
Caught in a world in some respects dead to kindness.
Your soft hears are wounded and so you turn to food or against food or drugs or sex to
 	comfort places that only God can reach.
You are Sirens and Phoenix’, 
You are eagles and hawks, caught in the visage of crack addiction, or binging and
 	purging, or seeking abuse with abandon.
Just as I fake tough when my soul cries deep for a reprieve from my madness.
You, afraid of sadness, with imploding anger,
You are the prophets of a new tomorrow.
For you have been to that dark place that most men run from,
And through struggle, toil, faith, and surrender, 
You will continue to face the shame, and know freedom..

Premium Member Saints and Prophets

Bodhisattvas turn airflow into flames,
water into Earth
as Jesus turned baptismal waters
into blood red rivers
of warm nutritious wine.

Bodhisattvas,
like Messiah prophets and saints,
long for
belong to
the baptismal political economy
of cooperative ecotherapeutic waters,
as yin flows air MidWay notnot pathological
through Yang's Great Transitional flames
ecstatically leaping,
empowerment "hungry"
for air's co-arising health-optimizing 
embrace

as ReGeneration
balance evolving waves
of neuro-conscious language
logos thoughts 
deeper mythos feelings
inviting ecological ethos.

When our political voices become too didactic
we listen wiser for more lyrically cooperative outputs
with denser harmonics,
singing and dancing in
bilateral resonant appositionals
polycultures
polypaths
optimally nurturing ego/eco-health perpetuation,
regenerative yang/yin dipolarity 
of deep wealth EarthTribe.

While these singers and dancers
disconcert their way
maintaining (0)-investment PlaceHolder mentations,
SpaceTime Unitarian-Integral Occupation,
unbiassed polypathic attention 
to neuro/eco-systemic ethics
and shared bipartisan norms
and co-invested political cooperative values

Natural communion economies of cooperation with Other 
v competition for sufficient compassionate time
to heal threats to politically dense wealth outcomes

These are all held in Common Symbolic Messages
as invitations to positive individual freedom development
of positive values 
with nutritionally regenerative purpose
emerging future Bodhisattva Co-ReGenerators

Composed of past,
and disposed toward future, healthy love
of neuro/eco-passionate balancing
fractal mind enlightenment
and dialectical body empowerment

Where red flame 
of dawn's Earth matriarchal warning
meets red fears 
of long dark-swept patriarchal past.

Prophets Chamber

renovated grace
upper terrace enshrouding
satiated guest
Form: Senryu

Premium Member Ode To Two Poets and the Poetry Soup Prophets Hip Hop Remix

Yo I know 2 poets, one young and one old,
Bold, and bright, bodacious,
But still gracious, perspicacious, never racist,
Moving to the beat of two generations,
Elations, facing nations, speaking truth to power,
This is their hour, 
Yo, I know 2 poets, one young and one old,
Farah and Gary Jones, like Ezekiel speaking life to bones,
He makes it real, with zeal, and shields of toughness,
Like the heroes of old, he was a cop, protectin’ the innocent,
Like Clark Kent, they got two sides, one quiet, and one out tha box,
Knocking your sox off, with on time rhymes, and affirmation,
Now check this out, Farah’s like Mozart, makin’ art like a prodigy,
Helpin’ us to see, the magnificent, miraculous,
To make folks see consciousness, of a world where men love with abandon,
I am a fan of them, but yo, I ain’t done yet,
They part of this whole cipher,
Like the pide piper, we rip it nice and smooth style,
Ooh lala A wewe,
We got barak obama’s, in hidin’, fightin’ for a new tomorrow,
Some got sorrow but still shine with rhymes of hope transcendent,
Like Elijah and the prophets, we break optics, with our brightness,
Tightness, lightness of being,
Seeing sounds of bustin’ breakdowns into astoundin’, lightnin’,
Citing, Charles and Baldwin, If you saw them,
You know these black jedi,
White, red eye’s leadin’ to new ages,
Brown sages, yellow suns of revolution,
With poet solutions, Like my girl sue, sowing seeds eternal,
Infernal darkness, you betta watch out,
Cause the soup’s here,
Destroying fear, and like the book of acts,
Creatin’ koinania, or maybe just community,
No fee, no charge, just bards,
Of me, growin’ into destiny,
And my sista’s and brotha’s of the soup,
Legends of the fall,
I sweat em all,
And in the end, just know that we ain’t stoppin’
Till the world’s a symphony,
Soon all heads will see,
There’s more!
Peace Out!
Form: Ballad

False Prophets

Pimp C (RIP) often said it

On a song that is often

In many hood homes played

Everybody sittin in the pulpit

Ain't saved most preachers

Just false prophets

Prophets freaking pros

And getting paid."

 

When I was younger

I knew it was true but

I never gave it much,

Much thought Pimp C

Also said whatcha gon'

Do when the devil poke

You with his fork.

 

I would never want

To do what I see

Some of these preachers do.

They need to get

Out of the pulpit

That's why so many

Are on the streets

Smoking dope

And looking to false hope.

 

They don't want to

Come to church

Because they see

The  preacher hoing,

Buying and smokin' perp.

That devalues the church.

And what makes it worse

Is that we Christian's allow

It to go on and it's so wrong.

 

 

Now that I'm older

I know that  false prophesy

Occurs often and it makes

My heart soften. It is

Painful to see indeed

It is tragedy. That

Many preachers talk

The talk and don't

Walk the walk

And going to cause

Themselves and the

Congregation

To get poked by the

Hot fork.

 

All because of what

Pimp C said "Everybody sittin

In the pulpit ain't saved

Most preachers

Are just false prophets

Freaking hoes and getting

Paid."

 

wrote 12-2-10
Form: Rhyme

Prophets Rebel! Now

No sin no win break,
crosses to amen stop!
Chanting Trinities!
Form: Haiku

Premium Member False Prophets

False Prophets


                            Spirituality for one, atheism for other

                            deterred


                             Skeptic dissenting extreme religiosity

                             wickedly interred


                             Charlatans deluded permeable minds

                             weaponized infectious lie


                             Prognostication of human destiny fails

                             for in time tyrannical powers, die!











Penned: 1?11/2022
12:18 a.m.
Lake Worth
Florida USA
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Fall of the Prophets

Blossoming heart of the cosmos’ union, 
With every connection to interstellar waves. 
The path of All seems to wander aimlessly, 
Leading nowhere except the oasis of mind. 

Esoterically challenged, by the ambient soul, 
We shine brightly in the spiritual realm. 
In this physical form we are deluded, 
To thoughts of limitations, we stop evolving. 

Memories of past lives, in some lie extant, 
Pushing back those intuitive emotions. 
Believing that all can be quantifiable facts, 
As artists strive to bring the magic back. 

Falling behind while we waste our time,
Weighing the pros and cons to life. 
Examining the exterior of the world, 
Our direction now we believe we have found. 

Populating propaganda like needing war,
Closing the door on the prophets before. 
Seeking out wisdom from others that talk, 
No longer do we run, walk or crawl.
© White Wolf  Create an image from this poem.

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