The next to last pew
An old man was at church last Sunday
He sat in the next to last pew
I slid into the seat right next to him
And gave a him a friendly “hi-dee-do”
He gave me a nod with his time worn brow
Then swiveled his head all around
While his gaze sized up the parishioners
His ears seemed to soak up their sound
His sad gaze seemed to pick out each person
One by one, as he seemed to stare into their soul
To some he nodded, in an approving way
While to others his look was ice cold
I asked if he was a member of this church
I said I wasn’t familiar with him, was he new?
He smiled a soft smile and shook his head no
Said “I’m here most of the time…
here in this next to last pew”
I said “what do you think of our little church”
He rubbed his hands through his hair of silver grey
Looked deep in my eyes and gave a soft, sad sigh
And said “you may not like what I have to say”
He said “ Son, I can see into the soul of these people
And to you, what I say is on the level”
That Most are fools in the eyes of the Lord
The rest are pawns in the hands of the devil
I looked all around at my fellow church-goers
Of whom he spoke, I knew of more than a few
And when I turned back to allow “that could be so”
I was all alone in the next to last pew!
poem by David Whalen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Sex & The Church
Though the idea of compassion
Is said to be
The union of christ
And his bride, the christian
Its all very puzzling
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
And the church
And the church
All the great mystic religions
Put strong emphasis, on
Redeame this spiritual qualities
Of sex of sex
Chrstianity
Has been pretty modern
About sex
Of sex of sex of sex of sex
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex sex
I think there is a union
Between the flesh and the spirit
Its sex and the church
Sex and the church
All religions mother
Give me youre freedom of spirit
And the joys of the flesh
Of sex sex sex and the church
Give me youre freedom of spirit
And the joys of the flesh
Of sex sex sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
And the church
And the church
Sex sex
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex sex
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
And the church
And the church
Sex sex
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex sex
Sex
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex sex
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Judith and her Thoughts on Death
That Sunday
after singing
in the choir
and changing
from the blue
and white gowns
and out
of the dim lit vestry
into the sunlight
at the back
of the church
Judith was standing
by a gravestone
reading the almost
indecipherable words
chiselled there
sad isn't it
she said
that these people died
and are buried
and then the time comes
when you can't read
who died or when?
you walked over
to where she was standing
and rubbed off
some of the green moss
with your hand
comes to us all
I guess
you said
when those whom we loved
or cared about die
and after we and those
who knew them are gone
there is no one left to care
who's buried there
she looked at you
and you saw
her eyes water
and her lower lip tremble
you won't forget me
will you? she asked
course not
you said
anyway
why are we getting
so darn morbid?
we're alive
let's live while we can
she walked away
from the gravestone
and stood looking
around the graves
behind the church
the sunlight
warming the stone
and her head
and you walked
next to her
and put your hand
on hers and said
I'll never forget you
if you go before me
she smiled
and looked at you
I'll always remember you
she said
other choir members
came out of the vestry door
and there was talk
and laughter
and Roger chased Shirley
along the path
and she looked back at him
giggling and making faces
and Judith said
some have no respect
for the dead
even in this
their resting place
human all too human
you said
and kissed her
sun blessed face.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Answered Prayer
i said a love prayer, but no one was there to hear
so i climbed into my bed
just so that i could rest my aching head.
i fell asleep right away
and flashes of love in my mind did play.
i saw a figure floating down to me
my eyes strained hard so that i could see.
the most beautiful sight i had ever saw
was knocking at my hearts door.
she said: you have asked for love in prayer
and you will get it- this i swear.
this love that you seek
you will see in a week.
i responded: are you an angel?
she smiled and said: how did you know!
she touched her back and
out sprouted her wings.
my eyes began to flutter
my heart began to sing.
for i had finally found
the perfect everything.
i awoke that morning wide eyed and refreshed.
and feeling at my very best.
it was sunday so to church i would go.
the church bell rang and we started inside
when i felt someone bump me on my side.
as i turned- there she was
the angel that came from above.
'i'm sorry' she said and gave me a smile.
now you can guess how this story ends.
she became my lover, confidant, wife and friend.
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sundays Past
On Sunday mornings you would wear a dark suit
With a tie and shiny shoes you are ready to en route
The church bells would ring calling for morning mass
While you check the weather through the window glass
A last glance in the mirror and you are on your way
You join the church goers without any further delay
Walking over uneven cobblestones in our small town
Children would jump on the sidewalks up and down
Dressed up for church everyone is wearing their best
Thinking about the priest and what they have to confess
Men lifting their dark hats as they wish a Good Morning
Then pass by the cemetery bowing heads as in mourning
The church bells now ringing louder and more demanding
Calling all sinners to mass without misunderstanding
I always knew that right then the decision was made
And it was agreed to skip church without being afraid
Through the old alley you and others took a known detour
Heading straight to the pub on the corner that is for sure
Around noon I would go to meet my father by the church
And he would talk about mass having done some research
At home my mother would just smile and shake her head
While my father gave her a wink that was hardly misread
Joking around we would eat lunch smiling with every bite
Keeping my father's Sunday secret and the world was alright
© 2011
poem by Kristina Louisa Carr
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You Gave Me Love
You gave me time
When no one gave me time of day
You looked deep inside
While the rest of the world looked away
You smiled at me
When there werent just friends everywhere
You gave me love
When nobody gave me a prayer
Thats why I call you savior
Thats why I call you friend
cause you touched my heart
You touched my soul
And helped me start all over again
Thats why I love you jesus
Thats why Ill always care
cause you gave me love
When nobody gave me a prayer
You gave me laughter
After Id cried all my tears
You heard my dreams
While the rest of the world just closed its ears
I looked in your eyes and I found such tenderness there
cause you gave me love
When nobody gave me a prayer
Thats why I call you savior
Thats why I call you friend
cause you touched my heart
You touched my soul
And helped me start all over again
And thats why I love you jesus
Thats why Ill always care
cause you gave me love
When nobody gave me a prayer
Yes he gives us love
When nobody gives us a prayer...
song performed by by Amy Grant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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After All Said And Done.
After Friday choir practice
in the church
after the other members
had gone to the vestry
to ready themselves for home
she stood in the darkened church
looking at the altar
and the high windows
where only moonlight
shone through
and she said to you
we'll stand here one day
and get married maybe
and say our vows
and there will be
our families and friends
and the parson will say
kiss the bride and you will
and she smiled
and looked at you
standing in the quiet church
and you said
some years off maybe
we're only fourteen
and still at school
and we've got to get pass
your mother yet
like trying to get a ball
by a fat goalie
who fills the net
but she just shook her head
and smiled and said
don't be so negative
look on the positive side
look to the future
with bright eyes
and it seems strange now
and sad to look back
at that night
with you and she
standing in that aisle
in semi-dark
while outside
in the night sky
fate was working out
a different answer
where you
would marry others
and she would die
from cancer.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When That Trumpet Sounds
Most people around today can’t see the darkness through the gloom,
But this very darkness is one sign that The Lord is coming back soon.
Paul spoke of a time when this very evil would get worse and worse,
But, before God judges this evil, Christ will remove His Church first.
For the wrath of God has been revealed against all this Godlessness,
A Day of Judgment against all who suppress the Truth by wickedness.
But Christ gave many promises to all, who believe and walk His path,
One of those is that The Church has not been saved to suffer wrath.
For Christ gave Himself for all men to redeem us from all wickedness,
His Grace has appeared to all and helps us say No to all Godlessness.
As man, apart from Christ, is destined to face Judgment for his sin,
Christ will come again with Salvation for all those waiting for Him.
Paul spoke of a day, that when it comes, for many will be a mystery,
A day when The Lord Himself will change our mortal into immortality.
When in a flash, in the twinkling of an eye, The Last Trumpet sounds,
We in The Church who are still alive will be caught up in the clouds.
After The Church is caught up together to be forever with The Lord,
God’s Righteous Judgment, for those who remain, will be at the door,
As the darkness around us gets darker there’s really no need to fear,
For as a Child of God, when that Trumpet sounds we’ll be otta here.
(Copyright © 05/2002)
What Others May Think.
Apart from the water tower
and the farm
and a few scattered cottages
there were no other buildings
for a mile or more
just you and Jane
and birds in the early morning sky
I like it at this time of day
she said
I like the fresh smell of nature
and the farm
and having few people about
you walked beside her down the lane
that led away from the farm
you noticed how her black hair
seemed freshly washed
and blew slightly in the mild wind
does you father mind
you being out with me?
you asked softly
he doesn't know
she replied
he thinks I came out alone
for a morning walk
why didn't you tell him?
you asked
he was busy writing his Sunday sermon
and it was easier to just go out
and not disturb him
she said looking around at you
her eyes studying you
as she walked on down the lane
would he mind you being with me?
you asked
I don't think he knows you as yet
seeing as you have only moved here
a few months and don't come
to the church
you stopped and took her hand in yours
it was warm and soft
and pulsed with life
she looked at your hand
holding hers and she rubbed
her thumb over the back
of your hand
you wanted to kiss her lips
or cheek just to feel
her flesh on yours
but you didn't you just looked at her
and waited to see
what she would do next
she let go of your hand
and looked around her
there might be people looking
from those cottages up there
she said suddenly pointing up
at the rising bank which went up
to two cottages high up
if they see us they may tell Father
and then it would be awkward
and he might suspect things
and then she went quiet
and looked at the running stream
by the lane
but we haven't done anything
we just walk out and talk
and hold hands now and then
it's not what we do
it's what others think we do
she said softly
and stood looking at you
waiting for you to speak
but you said nothing
just leaned in close to her
and kissed her cheek
and said
even Christ permitted kisses
even the one from Judas
and she smiled
and the early morning sun
pushed through trees
and shone on her hair
and there was the sound of birds
singing in the air.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Church Of Your Heart
Cant we leave the world outside
Just for a while? just for a while?
Spend some time, you and i
Under this bright glorious sky
Its been so long since I first saw you
But I still love that smile in your eyes
Yes its true, right from the start
I believed in the church of your heart
Yes its you, that make me part of
And I believe in the church of your heart
Step inside, lay yourself down
Just for a while, rest for a while
I can hear a thundering sound
Beating inside when youre around
Its been so long since I first met you
Since we made love, you know how time flies
Yes its true, right from the start
I believed in the church of your heart
Yes its you that make me be part of
And I believe in the church of your heart
In the church of your heart
Yes its true, right from the start
I believed in the church of your heart
Yes its you that make me be part of
And I believe in the church of your heart
Pretty baby its true, right from the start
I believed in the church of your heart
Yes its you that make me be part of
And I believe in the church of your heart
In the church of your heart
song performed by by Roxette
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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First Day I Met You
When I first met you I was a homeless boy until I settled in you heart
My love was locked until you gave me the key
My feelings of any other girl easily washed
Away but just one dropp of your love stained in me
I miss you even when your next to me because I know that
Your going to live me by the end of the day
We have different races but same love
Different faces but same expression
You don't need to emphasis your love to me
Because I love it just the way it is my lips used to be
Hard as rock until you gave me those kisses that made them soft as pork
When I first met you I thought I had already known you
I felt like we have lived a life together but no we just had a
Dream together when I first looked into your eyes I saw
Our future as I looked closer I saw our family living happily
I make you smile every time I gaze into your eyes and you make me
Smile every time you gaze into mine we are still cooking up
Our feature though we already have the recipe which is love forever
We don't need to taste it to see if its good because we can already smell
Our eternal love
I NOTICED ALL THIS ON THE FIRST DAY I MET YOU
poem by Atlay Mwenifumbo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Searching For a Church?
After your long and weary search, have you found the perfect church?
A simple church ruled by men; the perfect church you can’t condemn.
Or do they all appear the same, just another building with His Name?
And once inside you’re not sure, if you feel the presence of The Lord.
There’s only one true Church of God, upon this earth that all men trod.
That is The Church of Jesus Christ, and bought by Jesus, with His life.
God’s Church has no denomination, for in Christ is only one Salvation.
His Church has no walls my friend; it has a beginning but has no end.
Christ’s Church began at Pentecost, not for the righteous, but the lost.
His Church is made of sinful men, whom by God were all condemned.
But redeemed with a special price, when His Son became a sacrifice.
Then dipped into a cleansing flood; sinners purified by Christ’s Blood.
Are you looking to men to find, God’s forgiveness and peace of mind?
My friend, are you truly not that sure, where you can go to be secure?
Christ’s first Church had no steeple, and was filled with humble people.
Humble people who gave their life, to reach the world for Jesus Christ.
If you’re still searching for a church, you should end your weary search.
The Church is men like you and me, saved by Christ’s work on Calvary.
Nothing’s been added to the cross, except sinners who once were lost,
Since, they’ve entered in The Door, and now belong to Christ The Lord.
(Copyright ©04/2006)
Church Of Women
A lie for a lie, but a truth for the truth
Church of women is made out of milk
Which their love turns to butter -er -er
Church of women will have you give praise
With a laugh, bark and stutter -er -er
Like us men like us men they are nothing like us men
Men have gargoyles round their hearts
Im on my knees but dancing
Want to worship at the church of women
Breathe em in until my head goes spinning around
Want to worship at the church
Let me worship at the church of women
Church of women is making donations of loving and giving -ing -ing
Church of women performing that miracle raising the living -ing -ing
Like us men like us men will they ever like us men?
Men have thorns around their minds
Im on my mountain preaching
Want to worship at the church of women
Breathe em in until my head goes spinning around
Want to worship at the church
Let me worship at the church of women
Lie for a lie, but a truth for the truth
Give em back their house: the walls, the doors, the floors and roof
And stop tryin to diet on the wafers and wine and submit were in control
Now lets put things right
Lets multiply the loves and kisses
til we have enough to love and eat forever
Want to worship at the church of women
I want to worship at the church of women now
Breathe em in until my head goes spinning around
Ill breathe em in until my head goes spinning round
Want to worship at the church
Let me worship at the church of women
Want to worship at the church of women
(repeat x3 and fade)
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Little Church Round the Corner
'Bring him not here, where our sainted feet
Are treading the path to glory;
Bring him not here, where our Saviour sweet
Repeats for
us
his story.
Go, take him where such things are done
(For he sat in the seat of the scorner),
To where they have room, for we have none,--
To the little church down the corner.'
So spake the holy man of God,
Of another man, his brother,
Whose cold remains, ere they sought the sod,
Had only asked that a Christian rite
Might be read above them by one whose light
Was, 'Brethren, love one another:'
Had only asked that a prayer be read
Ere his flesh went down to join the dead,
While his spirit looked with suppliant eyes,
Searching for God throughout the skies.
But the priest frowned 'No,' and his brow was bare
Of love in the sight of the mourner,
And they looked for Christ and found him--where?
In that little church round the corner.
Ah! well, God grant when, with aching feet,
We tread life's last few paces,
That we may hear some accents sweet,
And kiss, to the end, fond faces.
God grant that this tired flesh may rest
('Mid many a musing mourner),
While the sermon is preached and the rites are read
In no church where the heart of love is dead,
And the pastor's a pious prig at best,
But in some small nook where God's confessed,--
Some little church round the corner.
poem by Anonymous Americas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Some Have Steeples. Some Don't
What do I think of church?
'Yes! '
Church?
Like in 'church' church?
'Yes! '
Well...
Some have steeples.
Some don't.
Some have people.
Some wont.
Some are religiously political.
And some are politically religious.
My vehicle is my church.
And that's all I care about.
'Oh?
So your 'car' is your church? '
Oh.
No no!
My 'body' is my church.
It is my sanctuary.
Now...
Keep in mind,
I am not devoted to keep it as pure,
As it should be.
But I do the best I can,
Not to be led away by temptation.
But everyday I pray to be forgiven,
Of those 'sins' I know I should not enjoy!
However...
You can find me anytime,
Self righteously defending...
My point of view.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Hat
In city shop a hat I saw
That to my fancy seemed to strike,
I gave my wage to buy the straw,
And make myself a one the like.
I wore it to the village fair;
Oh proud I was, though poor was I.
The maids looked at me with a stare,
The lads looked at me with a sigh.
I wore it Sunday to the Mass.
The other girls wore handkerchiefs.
I saw them darkly watch and pass,
With sullen smiles, with hidden griefs.
And then with sobbing fear I fled,
But they waylayed me on the street,
And tore the hat from off my head,
And trampled it beneath their feet.
I sought the Church; my grief was wild,
And by my mother's grave I sat:
. . . I've never cried for clay-cold child,
As I wept for that ruined hat.
poem by Robert William Service
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Grey Eyes
SHE glanced across the path to me,
Grey eyes!
Her looks were kisses plain to see.
I gave her glances back to her—
Glad eyes!
She saw the lifting of despair.
From memory a face looked out,
Dim eyes!
No years could sour that love to doubt.
My soul would nevermore be lone—
Bride's eyes!
Hearts still were waiting for my own.
Our souls uncurtained then, perchance—
Deep eyes!
Each built an epoch in a glance.
Out of her fellowship so free
Light eyes!
She gave some gladness unto me.
And I gave? As we turned apart—
Dead eyes!
I saw the shudder in her heart.
poem by Arthur Henry Adams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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His True Church
I know many religious people, and one Church with no steeple,
A church that’s built with no walls, built on only believing souls,
Built upon an Eternal Foundation, that being our very Salvation,
Built upon The One Cornerstone, and that is Jesus Christ alone.
Many, who worship in a building, to Truth alone, are unyielding,
Building a church on tradition, God’s Truth, with man’s addition,
Added to the work finished by, Jesus Christ who reigns on high,
Ignoring His words “it is finished”, Grace by many is diminished.
Men making a way to Heaven, not by grace but religious leaven,
Building church in a human way, as they lead many souls astray,
As many souls weekly perch, in the pews of a manmade church,
Relying on their religious activity, to help them work into eternity.
“I will build my Church” He said, that was Christ, who is the Head,
Head of His True Church on earth, filled with souls, by New Birth,
All members being Born Again, into His Church, not one of men,
You’ll find, you no longer search, as a member of God’s Church.
Jesus is the Way, Truth and Life, as Head of the Church of Christ,
And each of us is a living stone, built through faith in Christ alone,
His Church He proceeds to build, to complete as His Father willed,
Leading the only True Church friend, as others shall see in the end.
A revival does two things. First, it returns the Church from her backsliding and second, it causes the conversion of men and women; and it always includes the conviction of sin on the part of the Church. What a spell the devil seems to cast over the Church today!
quote by Billy Sunday
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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And You Don’t Remember Me
I sat on the park bench
pen and notebook in hand.
I watched all the people
as they passed on by.
I wondered how in life
each one of them had fared
with their happiness
and their sorrows.
I looked for inspiration
for something to write.
She looked at me and smiled,
I smiled back
thinking that was that.
“You don’t remember me? ”
She said and sat down.
I looked at her again
as memories swirled
around in my mind.
She was right
I didn’t remember her
Her hair was mousey colour
with flecks of grey
starting to appear here and there.
There were thick lines
across her forehead,
crow feet lines
near the corners of her eyes.
The corners of her mouth
drooped just slightly.
Her blues eyes were striking
and I knew I had seen them before,
but they were with a younger face
a long time ago.
A face that lit up
whenever she spoke.
“You still don’t remember me? ”
She asked once again.
I shook my head,
but unfortunately, I did.
I could remember
all the beauty
she had had in her youth,
before time had ravaged her
and taken away her beauty
and her youth.
She looked so sad.
I wanted to reach out
like I always wanted to,
but something deep inside,
a little voice you could call it,
kept telling me no.
My urge to hold her
was trying to win out,
but I couldn’t do it.
She was no longer
a part of my life.
All she was now
was a memory I clung to,
a memory of my youth
so long, long ago.
With notebook and pen,
I smiled and bit her farewell.
I whispered her name
as I said a last goodbye.
I didn’t look back
or I would have looked back with regret.
She was a past,
something none of us can ever relive.
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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That Cat Won't Sit On Your Lap
She warned me
That cat won't sit on your lap
She won't let you pick her up
And she won't let you sit on your lap
She likes to rub her head on you
But that's it
She won't let you pick her up
The cat looked at me
I looked at her
I let her rub her head on my leg
I look at her again and made a cat noise
She said, you'll see, she doesn't let anybody pick her up
I just looked at the cat
She looked at me
I reached to pick her up and she flinched
But she came back
I looked at her
And picked her up
She arched her back briefly
I rubbed her head, which she liked
The cat stayed on my lap
She said....how did you do that?
I said, I just did!
I looked a the cat
she looked at me
And we agreed not to tell
I put her down
As I did she knowingly looked back at me.
poem by James T. Adair
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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