Street Preacher
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I’m currently working on a new book entitled, “Things That Go Bump in the Night, Poetry of Fear and Fright.” It included several dozen never seen poems, which are far too frightening and grotesque for publishing on The Creative Exiles. This piece is one that I’ve been working on this piece for some time, and despite it having a fearful theme, I felt it would be relevant to many readers due to it’s content.
Street Preacher
Where he came from, no one knows
Flat brimmed hat and long black robe
On a busy street with traffic flowing
A fiery crusade with a mystical knowing
His words came strong
His sermons long
“The time is near!”
“But have no fear!”
“It’s not too late to renounce your hate!”
“Be forgiven, it’s the price of admission!”
He gave the sinners the golden key
Ask his father, then take a knee
Prayers of salvation fell on deaf ears
As they had for countless years
Drawing laughter from the depraved
Confident sinners, not needing saved
But he never waved, never failed
His message strong and quite detailed
Morning, noon, and every night
Preaching of the coming blight
With a tightened face and hardened eyes
Of one who’s seen that other side
He thumped and shouted, “judgement day!”
“The coming beast, then hell to pay!”
Listing troves of evidence
“We’re aligning towards apocalypse!”
Weather patterns, failing crops
Lightning strikes on mountaintops
Empty pews and collection pans
The falling of the race of man
“You’ve abandoned him!”
“And you swim in sin!”
“You must repent!”
“Or face torment!”
He cried out more, but still they laughed
Ignored his warnings, and went on past
For forty days he held that corner
Animated like a good performer
But not a single soul, no, not a one
Gave a care to the tales he spun
Then one day, the man was gone
Sinners laughed and carried on
A few days later another came
Different face, but dressed the same
Ignored the corner, but chose the club
Then set up shop in the local pub
Minions gathered as the money flowed
While digger girls surrendered clothes
He also spoke of judgement day
“It’s just a game, the pious play!”
“There is no heaven, and neither hell”
“A power grab, you know it well”
“The men in robes are worse than any”
“Hurt the children, grab every penny”
The rules they write, they do not follow
Their actions weak, their words are hollow
“All for me, but none for thee!”
“Yet the righteous see what they want to see.”
For days and weeks, he threw his darts
Helped to feed their blackened hearts
For forty nights, high court he held
Wilder tales and his crowds did swell
And then one day, like the preacher before
He disappeared, was seen no more
But unlike the former, they missed him so
Wondered why he had to go
Forty days and forty nights
One brought darkness, one brought light
The opening act to judgment day
A lengthy test to see the way
Whether heaven or hell; either up or down
Wield the pitchfork, or lay hands on the gown
Then the rider came riding, with his bow and his crown
Disease and the plague were unleashed on the town
And after the suffering, a red horse then did follow
An armor clad rider, bringing war to the hollow
Then a third on a steed, in his hands were a scale
A hunger, so painful, then soon, famine would prevail
Starvation for months and then a pale horse,
A sinister rider with the look of a corpse
And behind the horse, came a devilish creature
With the face of a demon and the robes of the preacher
“Your time to repent, has come and then went!”
“Now forever you’ll dwell, in the fiery depths of hell!”
Additional Reading
R.J. Schwartz is an American Poet and Author.
His complete works on The Creative Exiles Website can be found here
The Gypsy Thread is a huge collection of his original work
Ralph also writes on HubPages
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Ralph I am also working on a collection of horror poetry. I love the directions you move with your writing I find many similarities withing choices made. I think it is time to dig into some of your new books. Your friend. Jamie
Really cool. I had no idea you were into horror. This book is just about finished, the cover art is set, now it’s just a matter of me doing final edits.
Very powerful, fearful, poetry. I am thinking we had better straighten up and fly right before the four horses approach. Great work!
Wow, Ralph. Powerful stuff to be sure. Good luck with your book of horror poems.
This might be one of my favorites by you Ralph. I do love the mention of the horsemen. I’ve been trying to write something on the horsemen of the apocalypse as well. It seems like nowadays we are at a crossroads of choice too dark or light, good and evil. Nice work
thanks, I agree with you. The world is at a delicate time, and the darkness is attacking