Abel Prudhomme holds a degree in Biblical Studies from Louisiana Baptist University (B.A.).  He is also a graduate of the Library Technology Program at Pasadena City College.  His published works include “The Lost Canterbury Tale”, “A Modest Proposal/A Modern Proposal”, “The Frankenstein Chronicles”, “I Will Haunt You”, and his newly released theatrical play, “Hamlet Resurrected”, portions of which may be previewed via front page publication in the Fall 2012 online edition of West Magazine, or via a three part televised reading, from the “Spend a Little Time With Poetry Show”, available on YouTube.  More information, including his latest works and upcoming performances, is available by going to the Menu for this site, and clicking on the appropriate tab for each book .


There is a stream that rushes to its end,

Whose waters must be shared;

That crushes through the beaver’s dam,

And makes the world aware.


And I the keeper of its turn

Must ever let it out;

And write it down for all to read

Or rise to scream and shout.


But I suppose were it to cease,

And I to write no more,

It’d rise to rain and then return

As storms upon the shore.


Oh, muse not mute prevents my soul

From ever being still,

‘Til I, translated translator

Awake in oceans filled.


Thrill, thrill, thrill…

(Copyright by Abel Prudhomme, January 28, 2012)


I was raised…

tempestously at home

rapidly on the streets

miraculously in Christ

and soon I’ll be speaking adjectives in Heaven!

(Copyright by Abel Prudhomme, January 8, 2012)

To see a complete schedule of upcoming appearances, or to contribute your review of a book,

please click over to



Abel’s Lulaby

As I hold you here within my arms and beam into your eyes,

I kiss your cheeks, I cuddle you, I watch your love arise.

You laugh at me, you smile at me, you fill my heart with joy!

The happiest of fathers, I love my little boy;

My Abel Boy, my Abel Boy, my Abel Boy, my Abel bohhhh-ohh

Boy, boy, boy, boy!

I’m dancing ’round the room now; this moment’s finally here.

Some things are so worth waiting.  (I prayed you would appear.)

All my life and a whole day it took for you to come.

Now baby has his Papa, now Papa has his son;

My Abel Boy, my Abel Boy, my Abel Boy, my Abel bohhh-ohh

Boy, boy, boy, boy!

As I look back into your eyes, I clearly now can see

The future that awaits us.  It waits for you and me

The great that you will do… I wish I could be there,

Yet take with you my fire: the strength that we both share;

My Abel Boy, my Abel Boy, my Abel Boy, my Abel bohhh-ohh

Boy, boy, boy, boy!

A cloud of witnesses are watching you with me.

May we behold a fire that blazes brilliantly.

Preach the Gospel, preach the Blood, preach Truth; oh, let it burn!

Let no one douse your fire until Our lord returns;

My Abel Boy, my Abel Boy, my Abel Boy, my Abel bohhh-ohh

Boy, boy, boy, boy!

(Copyright by Abel Prudhomme, June 30, 2005)


A Summer Boy

He was a summer boy from a summer land

Who followed the river to its winter end;

Out of his normal habitat,

Adventuresome and free;

He would climb the mountaintop,

He would finally see

His mother.

His heart was as big as his beautiful eyes,

His fears naive but his love so wise;

Wild with want

That wanted desperately

To see a dream

And that dream would be

His mother.

Father left but she they sent away;

Replacing her son with hope for the day

A boy would be a little man,

A boy would have a simple plan,

To bring this leaving to an end

And never leave alone again

His mother.

But senders leavers sought once more

To rot the hinges from the door.

Away with those who dare create

A world that dares to separate

A mother from her son;

Can you not see the harm you’ve done

His mother?

You had so many, God gave her one;

A rightful mother, a rightful son.

Cease then from greed that seeks to steal

A love that only she could feel:

Behold this true maternity

That you yourselves could never be

His mother.

Now follow him who walks upstream,

Reality is not a dream:

It is his feet

It is his hands

It is his heart

That understands

His mother.

And there shall be no other


There shall be no other.

(Copyright by Abel Prudhomme, April 15, 1998)



(written for our anniversary, 2008)

I am not mad

Though I hear the laughter of a billion people

I am not mad

Though I be compelled to rip out my beating heart

And place it in your open hands

I am not mad

Though again and again mid sentence without end

My soul flings itself back across a thousand nations

To witness the beauty of you sitting on your throne

I am not mad

I am in

In love with the last Mayan princess

In a trance in an attachment that will not end

Enslaved and seeking no emancipation

In chains bore gladly

Bound to all that is you and to all that could ever possibly please you

I am not mad

For every prisoner would sing

Everyone so captured thus would be branded with the same never ceasing ever raging ever rushing river of desire to hang about your golden feet

To be near you and simply hope to see

Your Mayan lips perfect themselves into a full smile of satisfaction

Great pleasures of the ages come and please this royal love

I am not mad

I am sane

And all the world has left me

As I hold the last of the Mayan princesses within my arms

Within my undeserving arms and ever so tightly

The full breasts of a nation press themselves into me

And archaeology is mocked

As the mists of misunderstanding fade away to reveal the secrets of a long lost world

I am not mad

I am inside her

I am Maya

A civilization is reborn

Ancient temples lie ruined in the jungles of Belize

But resurrect themselves in me

Streets light themselves in me

And the air is charged with the pain of love

As women send their men off to war

For me to lead them though I cannot die

For with each touch she re-animates my heart

Until it is told that there shall be no invasion

For history must repeat itself each night

As we incessantly touch one another and I live the more

I am not mad

I am rich

Oh diggers of dirt

Thou findeth nothing

For the treasures of her people

That unimaginable wealth of beauty

Is not found in chiseled stone

But in her soul

See now the mysteries of her people

Rise up to overwhelm my mind take my heart

And pour the power of their ancient culture from my eyes

I am not mad

I am in earnest

Call me chief lunatic

The pride of all fools an unwinged creature of the night

And I shall but laugh


I am not mad Haha

I am the most sane of all men

For she is mine

Mine to hold mine to have mine to live and to die with

Mine to make happy mine to please until I fill her soul up full of love

As a spoiled child I shall keep her

And as a king I shall defend this great Mayan nation

I am not mad

But let the reader beware

For if you call this madness

Then your best sanity is the worst of all loneliness

I am not mad

Are you?

(copyright © by Abel Prudhomme, January 14, 2008)





Proverbs 11:14

14 Where no counsel is, the people fall: but in the multitude of counsellors there is safety.

Proverbs 18:1

18 Through desire a man, having separated himself, seeketh and intermeddleth with all wisdom.

Proverbs 25:1

11 A word fitly spoken is like apples of gold in pictures of silver.

Proverbs 29:1

29 He, that being often reproved hardeneth his neck, shall suddenly be destroyed, and that without remedy.

Isaiah 64:1-4

64 Oh that thou wouldest rend the heavens, that thou wouldest come down, that the mountains might flow down at thy presence,

As when the melting fire burneth, the fire causeth the waters to boil, to make thy name known to thine adversaries, that the nations may tremble at thy presence!

When thou didst terrible things which we looked not for, thou camest down, the mountains flowed down at thy presence.

For since the beginning of the world men have not heard, nor perceived by the ear, neither hath the eye seen, O God, beside thee, what he hath prepared for him that waiteth for him.



Mark 13:35-37

35 Watch ye therefore: for ye know not when the master of the house cometh, at even, or at midnight, or at the cockcrowing, or in the morning:

36 Lest coming suddenly he find you sleeping.

37 And what I say unto you I say unto all, Watch.

John 3:16

16 For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.

Romans 12:19-21

19 Dearly beloved, avenge not yourselves, but rather give place unto wrath: for it is written, Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord.

20 Therefore if thine enemy hunger, feed him; if he thirst, give him drink: for in so doing thou shalt heap coals of fire on his head.

21 Be not overcome of evil, but overcome evil with good.

Philippians 4:6-8

Be careful for nothing; but in every thing by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God.

And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.

Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things.

Philippians 4:11-13

11 Not that I speak in respect of want: for I have learned, in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content.

12 I know both how to be abased, and I know how to abound: every where and in all things I am instructed both to be full and to be hungry, both to abound and to suffer need.

13 I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me.





3 thoughts on “Personal

  1. There are more upcoming events listed at If you are reading this then that means you get to attend as many of them as possible! Mmmmm, and aren’t you the little most fortunate one!

    Bring your body with your soul, and look out… you just might meet a fully dressed undertaker, or get to see and meet a real live carnation sniffin’ elitist! Lions, and tigers and performances – oh, my!!

  2. Mr. Prudhomme. I just finished reading your impressive interview in West Magazine. I just wanted to thank you for these very encouraging words from you:

    “But let us be clear. If we are in fact of heavenly stuff, then there is no limitation to what we can do nor to whom we can be; for the image of God is the image of utter freedom and of ability divine. They told my mother to abort me; that I could not contribute to society. Thank God she didn’t believe them. Neither do I.”

    A million thanks. Wishing you and your family more and more blessings. Olivia

    1. Thanks, Olivia!

      Your input is appreciated. I’m currently organizing the first table reading for the play, “Hamlet Resurrected”, which was featured in the interview you read.

      Stay inspired!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s