He will never worship well the image on the altar who knew it when it was a trunk of wood in the garden.
Related quotes
Some People Worship
Some people worship the fiery sun
And some the crescent moon
Some people worship the stars above
But God I worship you
Some people worship dragons
And some hand carved statues
Some people worship the devil
But God I worship you
You created the heavens above
The earth with color of every hue
Then in your image you made man
God I worship you
Some people worship their president
And some their nation too
Some people worship themselves
But God I worship You!
© by Patricia Bankhead
poem by Patricia Bankhead
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sheer Egoism at Ramasola
Who else would not love his own image?
Even the crude Narcissius loved himself
in a pool of water.
We feed and worship our image
from the crude shadows in the still waters
to the bright reflections of the silver mirrors
and to the wise manipulations over the lenses
of the camera men.
We pose and change suits
giggle at the transfer of life
into the shiny papers and borrowed colors,
tailor our dead sizes,
enlarge these still-pictures
in frames and hang them on walls.
We pay the high cost of joy
of our tailored image
stamped on papers and tucked on wood,
kissed by glasses and adhesives.
And never will the price alter
the rising and ebbing tide
of the ego`s worship
to our own human form.
poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Choriambics II
Here the flame that was ash, shrine that was void,
lost in the haunted wood,
I have tended and loved, year upon year, I in the solitude
Waiting, quiet and glad-eyed in the dark, knowing that once a gleam
Glowed and went through the wood. Still I abode strong in a golden dream,
Unrecaptured.
For I, I that had faith, knew that a face would glance
One day, white in the dim woods, and a voice call, and a radiance
Fill the grove, and the fire suddenly leap . . . and, in the heart of it,
End of labouring, you! Therefore I kept ready the altar, lit
The flame, burning apart.
Face of my dreams vainly in vision white
Gleaming down to me, lo! hopeless I rise now. For about midnight
Whispers grew through the wood suddenly, strange cries in the boughs above
Grated, cries like a laugh. Silent and black then through the sacred grove
Great birds flew, as a dream, troubling the leaves, passing at length.
I knew
Long expected and long loved, that afar, God of the dim wood, you
Somewhere lay, as a child sleeping, a child suddenly reft from mirth,
White and wonderful yet, white in your youth, stretched upon foreign earth,
God, immortal and dead!
Therefore I go; never to rest, or win
Peace, and worship of you more, and the dumb wood and the shrine therein.
poem by Rupert Brooke
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Choriambics-II.
Here the flame that was ash, shrine that was void, lost in the haunted wood,
I have tended and loved, year upon year, I in the solitude
Waiting, quiet and glad-eyed in the dark, knowing that once a gleam
Glowed and went through the wood. Still I abode strong in a golden dream,
Unrecaptured.
For I, I that had faith, knew that a face would glance
One day, white in the dim woods, and a voice call, and a radiance
Fill the grove, and the fire suddenly leap . . . and, in the heart of it,
End of labouring, you! Therefore I kept ready the altar, lit
The flame, burning apart.
Face of my dreams vainly in vision white
Gleaming down to me, lo! hopeless I rise now. For about midnight
Whispers grew through the wood suddenly, strange cries in the boughs above
Grated, cries like a laugh. Silent and black then through the sacred grove
Great birds flew, as a dream, troubling the leaves, passing at length.
I knew
Long expected and long loved, that afar, God of the dim wood, you
Somewhere lay, as a child sleeping, a child suddenly reft from mirth,
White and wonderful yet, white in your youth, stretched upon foreign earth,
God, immortal and dead!
Therefore I go; never to rest, or win
Peace, and worship of you more, and the dumb wood and the shrine therein.
poem by Rupert Brooke (1908)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
Vote! | Copy!
Unbelievers (Chapter 109, Holy Koran)
I ask for refuge to Allah from Satan the exiled evildoer.
In the name of Allah the Kind and the Merciful Giver.
Say, O those who disbelieve
I don't worship that you worship
And you don't worship Him Whom I worship
And I won't worship that you worship
And you don't worship Him Whom I worship
Your religion is yours and our religion is ours to keep.
poem by Asif Andalib
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Whose Image?
man, created
in the image of God.
guns, created
by man's hands.
war, created
in the image of man.
even the animals know!
whose image do we worship now?
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Some men worship rank, some worship heroes, some worship power, some worship God, and over these ideals they dispute, but they all worship money.
quote by Mark Twain
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy! | In Romanian
Hexagram
Paint the streets in white!
Death is the standard
Breach for a complex prize!
I think it's sweet of you
And your parents are proud...
But I would expect it from anyone
Now to protect life's indigenous sound!
Worship! Play, Play x 3
Worship! Play! Worship! Play
Worship! Worship!
Worship! Play, Play x 3
Worship! Play! Worship! Worship!
How the streets they swell!
While the animals make their way through the crowds!
If you keep listening you can hear it for miles...
God, I trust everyone quicker with every faint smile!
Worship! Play, Play x 4
Worship! Worship!
Worship! Play, Play
Worship! Worship!
Worship! Play, Play x 4
Worship! Worship!
Worship! Play, Play
Worship! Worship! Worship!
And the crowd goes wild!
And the camera makes you seasick!
God it's so sweet of you and I know you're proud
And the car bomb hits quick click, faint smile!
It's the same sound... it's the same, same... sound....
And the crowd goes wild!
And the camera makes you seasick!
God it's so sweet of you and you know I'm proud
And the car bomb tick ticks with the same sound!
Its the same sound! With the same sound...
Hexagram...
song performed by by Deftones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Trespasser for M lady Chitra
Lost deep in thought my footsteps strayed
And brought me to a woodland glade.
Wherein there stood an altar stone
erected to some God unknown
Erected in pre history.
The stone will stand eternally
as evidence of worship here
of some forgotten deity..
The altar stone is still pristine
It’s surface completely free
of lichens which should have been
thriving on it visibly.
Perhaps the worshippers still meet
Creep through the woods on silent feet
to carry out their ancient rites.
Beneath the moon on summer nights
When new gods drive he old gods out.
I am convinced I have no doubt
There still remains a faithful few
who worship as they used to do.
Perchance they still worship here
That is the reason that the stone is clear.
Quite suddenly I feel oppressed
and I decide its for the best.
To take again my homeward way
hurriedly without delay.
I feel that I must leave this place
and quicken up my walking pace
I wonder still uneasily
did I offend some deity.
Albeit inadvertently
who might decide to punish me
Though years have passed I’m still afraid.
I trespassed in that woodland glade.
Although in fact by accident
perhaps I earned some punishment.
Perhaps I’m being paranoid.
I try my hardest to avoid
Walking woodland paths alone
they might lead to that altar stone.
10/10/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Enigmatic
Within the woodlands dappled shade.
I came across a block of stone
I had no doubt it was man made
Though when and why cannot be known.
So perfect was the craftsmanship
which had been lavished on this stone
A place of ritual worship
It had to be an altar stone.
Though no one worships here today.
The altar stone still stands alone.
Within the woods hidden away
But sadly there is little known.
There’s no recorded history
To help me solve the mystery.
(09 August 2011)
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Through The Wood
THROUGH the wood, the green wood, the wet wood, the light wood,
Love and I went maying a thousand lives ago;
Shafts of golden sunlight had made a golden bright wood
In my heart reflected, because I loved you so.
Through the wood, the chill wood, the brown wood, the bare wood,
I alone went lonely no later than last year,
What had thinned the branches, and wrecked my dear and fair wood,
Killed the pale wild roses and left the rose-thorns sere?
Through the wood, the dead wood, the sad wood, the lone wood,
Winds of winter shiver through lichens old and grey,
You ride past forgetting the wood that was our own wood
All our own--and withered as ever a flower of May.
poem by Edith Nesbit
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Let Us Worship Him
Let us worship Christ our Saviour
Let us worship Christ our Saviour
Let us worship Him
Let us worship Him
Let us worship Christ, our Lord
(repeat)
All the earth should praise Him
Let us bow down before Him
Let us enter into,His gates with thanksgiving
Come before His courts with praise
Lets us honor and adore Him
Lets us exalt Him for His goodness
For His love and kindness
And for His tender mercy
I will,I will,I will,I will worship Christ the Lord
I will worship Christ
I will worship Christ the Lord
I will worship you
I adore your name
Lord you're worthy
I worship Christ, the Lord
song performed by by Yolanda Adams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Let Us Worship Him
Let us worship Christ our Saviour
Let us worship Christ our Saviour
Let us worship Him
Let us worship Him
Let us worship Christ, our Lord
(repeat)
All the earth should praise Him
Let us bow down before Him
Let us enter into,His gates with thanksgiving
Come before His courts with praise
Lets us honor and adore Him
Lets us exalt Him for His goodness
For His love and kindness
And for His tender mercy
I will,I will,I will,I will worship Christ the Lord
I will worship Christ
I will worship Christ the Lord
I will worship you
I adore your name
Lord you're worthy
I worship Christ, the Lord
song performed by by Yolanda Adams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Ride your greed.
Whom to worship, where to worship,
When to worship and how to worship
Aren’t relevant to the bliss promised
Unless you know how to ride you greed.
21.04.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Marula tree trunk
Strong winds blow against the Marula tree trunk,
They come with miscellaneous objects,
Light and heavy,
And use them to break the Marula tree trunk,
But nothing happens to the Marula tree trunk,
Light and heavy rains come,
The Marula tree smiles,
For the plentiful rain water will make
It stronger and taller,
Animals come and sleep under and on top
Of the Marula tree,
Lean and rub their itching bodies
Against the Marula tree trunk,
Relieve themselves against it,
But nothing happens to the Marula tree trunk,
The human race use the Marula tree for shade
Against the merciless summer heat of the Limpopo sun,
And eat or make beer with Marula,
But, alas! One vicious human being returned,
And chopped it,
Off goes the faithless Marula tree trunk,
To be scorched by the everlasting home burning fires.
poem by Niki Nicholas Nkuna
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sonnet IV: Lovesight
When do I see thee most, beloved one?
When in the light the spirits of mine eyes
Before thy face, their altar, solemnize
The worship of that Love through thee made known?
Or when in the dusk hours, (we two alone,)
Close-kissed and eloquent of still replies
Thy twilight-hidden glimmering visage lies,
And my soul only sees thy soul its own?
O love, my love! if I no more should see
Thyself, nor on the earth the shadow of thee,
Nor image of thine eyes in any spring,—
How then should sound upon Life's darkening slope
The ground-whirl of the perished leaves of Hope,
The wind of Death's imperishable wing?
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
You must realize that I was suffering from love and I knew him as intimately as I knew my own image in a mirror. In other words, I knew him only in relation to myself.
quote by Angela Carter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Candlelight
So many bees, who know so much
that only bees can tell,
gave their life’s devotion
to this single source of light;
silent whisper for your attention
to what it has to tell your sight,
before its substance burns, returns
into the upper air…
gently burns on altar, or scented in the bathroom’s grace;
or here in front of you, gentle hypnotist
for the wandering mind;
to which it has so much to tell..
tells of humility; gently burning
in a stable, before a birth;
tells of loving-kindness; gives itself,
yet asks for nothing but to be itself;
tells of worship: worship, first, of what the bees are;
and here in this honey-coloured form
is their own worship;
waxing silent in murmured devotion;
warming miraculously, into liquid wax;
only love can be so liquid;
only love can reach so far;
liquid, warmed into this present light:
the candle’s flame you know so well
yet cannot shape or hold;
already, candle hints to you
that there is that beyond all sense:
for round its light, air’s gently warmed:
drawing the flame itself into the invisible above
like the soul that’s yearning for its homeland;
and beyond, within, that air you cannot see
unless it moves some other thing,
it lights the space – space which is not
bathroom, altar; but all space;
candle tells you of all that;
draws the mind with steady, silent truth
to all creation in a single flame;
flame that asks for naught of you
but your attention; which it will reward
by telling you in stillness,
what you worship in yourself;
the light of self, that shines before all men
and glorifies its maker
like a gentle flame that cannot be put out.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
God's Garden
God looked around his garden
And found an empty place,
He then looked down upon the earth
And saw your tired face.
He put his arms around you
And lifted you to rest.
God’s garden must be beautiful
He always takes the best.
He knew that you were suffering
He knew you were in pain.
He knew that you would never
Get well on earth again.
He saw the road was getting rough
And the hills were hard to climb.
So he closed your weary eyelids
And whispered, ‘Peace bethine’.
It broke our hearts to lose you
But you didn’t go alone,
For part of us went with you
The day God called you home.
poem by Katie Evans
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Upon The Altar Of My Lord
I offer my words up freely,
upon the altar of my God.
I come to this sacred place freely,
of my own free will to serve to pray.
This ancient sacred place this land,
this holy sacred God given ground;
is where in my humble veneration,
in worship I lay my offering down.
I have nothing more; to humbly offer pray.
I have while materially poor nothing more,
than time of value worth to humbly offer pray;
this is all I have I here in true worship bore,
I offer before my most high my sacred Lord.
Near on thirty years ago, I made this sacred vow,
with my soul heart head, bowed in breath low;
though my flesh remains, be still struggle weak,
this vow before God in worship I honour keep.
I thank my wondrous Lord, who let me humbly come here pray.
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!