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A Stench to Heaven.....
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By Michael P. Johnson
Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson

† † † †A Stench To Heaven.....

His life was plagued with self-desire

Foul bitterness and guile

With lust ablaze like rampant fire

Birthing nothing worthwhile

With thoughts with deeds exceed crude

No gesture less refined

Most spoken words insanely rude

Devils alone could find

A scoundrel, rogue a thief at heart

Deceiver, liar, cheat

No joy could his heart impart

No grace or love entreat

Forgiveness, was his nature strange

Yet Heaven touched his soul

He read that lives could rearrange

If Jesus made them whole

At first he thought twas not for him

His manner too obscene

If only his past was not so grim

Enough for God clean

Determined pleading on bended knees

With eyes misty with tears

ďO Lord dear God if You would please

Forgive my wicked years

Iíll turn from all the filth Iíve done

Iíll burn hellís bridges down

Iíll lift the name of Christ Your Son

In each and every town

Iíll tell the world about Your love

Of Jesusí life and death

Until You call from up above

Or till my dying breathĒ..Ö

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Submitted: Sunday, August 11, 2013

Last Updated: Sunday, August 11, 2013

About the Poet
I never wrote a word of poetry in my life. Till the day Jesus took my hand and touched my soul.....I invite your response. However most poems are not about me! Very few are. But the feed-back good, bad or indifferent is always desired. Not meant to offend, but I write about many things in many a guise. Of life, death, lost, found, saved, backsliders, new comers, repenting souls, doubting hearts, heathens, Christians, fire, water, Satan's daughter, wallowing in sin, saved, made sound walking in Light, graceful righteous. Suffering, ecstatic, bored, excited, sad, delighted, Sick, well, lame, able, living, dying, etc. etc. etc. Writing about anything, everything and everyone as the spirit leads. All meant to reveal, waken, revive, encourage, shame, help. Gladden, pick up, exalt, portrait, liberate. Again over 99% of my work is not about me. Although at times I write as though I were or am. Speaking e.g. in the first person. This is quite common even in the bible itself. Prophets speak of themselves, then God speaks, again the prophet, then God......Quite often it's difficult to distinguish whom it is that at any given time is speaking or narrating.

Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson

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