Category Archives: Poetry and Prose for pro’s (or anyone really.)

There are many different types of poetry and prose, but all of these are original to myself.
(Or could be attributed to subconscious plagiarism, which I believe to be forgivable.)

Rending and mending

We strive in this life for all the wrong things
We cry from our broken dreams
Search the sky to see what it means
Fly toward the end of the stream.

Forever seems like too much to hope
endeavor to live right
define your own meaning.
and choke on the end of your rope.

It’s a bit dark in the tunnel alone
But who’s alone for real?
Who’s ever alone?
What we know makes us feel.
Cause we feel what we know.

We are never alone and
the purpose and plan
for this life is the hand
held out to correct, not to fan
the flames of our self seeking ways
but replace them with the purpose He always intended
and mend us and rend out the rot from our souls.

Five unrelated facts you never knew about nothing.

1. Those people who believe in absolutely nothing are called Nihilists.

Most commonly, nihilism is presented in the form of existential nihilism, which argues that life is without objective meaning, purpose, or intrinsic value.[1] Moral nihilists assert that morality does not inherently exist, and that any established moral values are abstractly contrived. Nihilism can also take epistemological or ontological/metaphysical forms, meaning respectively that, in some aspect, knowledge is not possible, or that reality does not actually exist.

2. Stealing from wikipedia without proper credit is considered acceptable by people with no conscience.

That’s a big surprise, now isn’t it? Now to show you a picture of a whale in distress

Wait, is this a whale or a lake that just looks like a whale? Or could it be Justin Beiber? I dunno.

3. Most people won’t read this title since they have attention spans which are too small, or a lack of love for beached whales.

It’s true. The heartless human race has endured too many Free Willie films and doesn’t care any more. Which brings me to my fifth and final point.

5. Math is for people who love whales and puppies and long walks on the beach.

Us normal people will simply let the square root of pi be what it may. We have no time for times tables or simple addition. You don’t need addition to balance the checkbook, just subtraction!

Jerusalems Daughter

Original Art  by MichelleMarie

Original Art by MichelleMarie

By his life He saved us
By his might He raised us
Empowering the resurrection cry.

Dying once, he saved believers
Calling all his saints to glory
A story for the resurrected life.

A friend to them who lowly bow
Ascending to the face of glory
For eternal shore awaits the justified.

Singing over the called and listening
Glory glistening from his voice
Rejoice, oh daughter of Zion,
face his splendid, sacred choice.
Renew the vow of covenant
and bless the nations with the joyful noise!

Thoughts without merit

So many opinions, with so few facts. They come to the table, just to give us their backs. Set in their ways, with no excuse of age, they wage a war of words with high morals, but half of the picture. They spout scripture, but only the parts they’re down with. I’m starting to drown with all these vain words.


For my artsy friends, you are 100% free to use this in part or whole in your art. I just really felt compelled to put my thoughts to verse.


Trying to capture a thought

Trying to think on the spot

Wondering about why

Feeling a little dry

Pieces of the puzzle falling in place

Nothing really coming.


Facing  the fact


Even though a thought might not be what you wanted

What you got might be better still


a plan behond your own hand, behond your own head, beyond your own mind; find what it is that’s supposed to be found.


Hit the ground running.

No time for blunderin

No way.

At the end of the time, at the end of the day

What really matters?

Start well.


The Plan

A flower may wilt, and beauty may fade
but the God who created refuses to change.

His promise not temporal, his power not fading

Divine inspirer gave his plan away.


Follies of persons on earth, bound to earth.

Never impeding the showering of love

but heading His call, do every good deed

Until the world knows; their reward then received.


A bigger plan ever, than man could devise

Is acted in sequence before the unwitting.

A shame that no knowledge can reach the unwilling

Who live for fulfilling

the desire of the eyes.


Rise and show yourself strong.



Life is more than you make of it. If it were only what you made of it, it wouldn’t be worth living. ~Dan Delyon


It vaguely resembled him. His hair, his eyes, were the same.

Nothing else would say that it was him. Nothing else could get out more than a whisper.

The temple light shown down upon the abandoned street and glared in the face of the man who had been the first of his kind, the most famous of his kind. He was a Juggernaut.

A light rain fell on the cobblestones and he hesitated in his step. The temple seemed to waiver in his vision. Was he dreaming? What would he do if he was?

He drunkenly took another step, his right hand brushing against the lightpost.


He fell in the sand, face forward, then lifted his head.

There was no temple, there was no rain…only the dark sands of the wilderness. He was dry to the bones. Even worse than the dryness in his body was the dryness of his soul.


But the man he had seen near the temple; could he be the one he was supposed to find? What had happened to the temple, it was there, then gone.

Had he been thinking rationally, he could have reasoned the cause, but reason had abandoned his dry soul long ago.

Power will abandon us all: Health will fail us.

Michael died in the desert he had created. In his own creation did he die.

Closer to the way of life than ever, but never on the right side.

Mourned by many, known by few, he was a brave soul.

These were the words written on his headstone.

A land close beyond the skies.

Floating over the pomegranate skies

A land awakes and the sun dries.

Slipping away time like a third handed clock

Stopped to take stock of the moment.


Vested in glory and bequeathed with the light

A city of glory, weakens the mighty.

Shimmering candescence of altosphereic mass

Descends through the crackling sky.

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Symmetrical Tears

Mira looked down at the two pieces of bread held out by the stranger, either unable to comprehend that someone would give away food, or wary of the gift, but in the end she took it and devoured it.

A few tears slipped down her cheek. She had never been given such a present.

She was the first of the children to be given food that day and was followed by twenty or so other starving people. They were all that were left of her village after the flooding and disease.

She looked up to see the womans tears flowing as she watched them all eat, overwhelmed by what she saw. She had never seen such need before.

It wasn’t the food that kept Mira going. It was the shared tear.

Authors note: I really do hate tear-jerkers. I always have.

The purpose of this is not so that you will have something to cry over and then feel better about your life. I should think that you can figure out the purpose with a few moments thought.