Instead of a treasure, coals! [""'Rum,' I hopes! 'Baccy,' I thinks! 'Tracts,' by jingo!"" Sailor's remark on discovering that he had picked up a bottle of tracts.]
Related quotes
At Houtbay beach
A young girl and an old man
walk down steps
to the stretch
that the beach at Houtbay
throws against the sea.
There are some small fishing boats
in colours of blue,
orange and white
that sails into the sea,
but big white cabin cruisers
bobs up and down
next to the quay
some distance away
as if they are ownerless
while their bosses
play somewhere else.
The smell of sea-pike
roasting on coals
lies on the light wind
and their stomachs growl
of sudden hunger
and here and there
the girl stoops
to pick up shells.
His sturdy boots leaves flat tracts
on the firm sand
and there’s a brown wood walking stick
with a lion head in his hand
and the girl’s
bare foot tracts
run in advance.
The sea swishes in and out
and the wet sand
reflects a bright open day
and the blue water
stretches out
as far as you can see
and it’s as if he gets new power
next to the foaming water.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mariya And Son
Mariya the preacher went shopping!
Her son was at her side...
And their Christian tracts were dropping
In places far and wide!
From restaurants to ATMs,
From meters to phone booths!
These tracts like royal diadems
Were sparkling with God's truths!
The sun was shining up above,
The world was bright and new,
Almost as if God spoke with love,
'My Son, I give to YOU! '
Mariya smiling all the time,
Her son as good as gold,
Both walking in God's light sublime,
With winsome faith so bold...
A little child can share God's Word,
With tracts laid here and there,
Yet supervised, as is preferred
And covered with a prayer...
Mariya knows her way around,
She's found the Lord, that's why...
She walks as if she's Heaven-bound,
With twinkles in each eye!
In Heaven, tracts are never seen,
For who would need to know?
But here on Earth, let's intervene!
A-tract souls as we go!
A-tract lost souls! Each day! Be brave!
Mariya knows the score!
What wonders wait the souls we save!
There's joy forevermore!
Denis Martindale, copyright, August 2012.
The Gospel poem is about a short video showing
Mariya giving out Christian tracts to passersby,
in the hope of preaching the Gospel to them.
The Gospel website is dikayo-dot-com and
God bless Mariya who emailed me the video link.
Video shortcut: bit.ly/2MinTip
It links to parts 1 and 2 and also the
dikayo username playlist for lots more!
We can hear the word of the Lord on
Revelation TV on UK Sky Digital 581
as well as the WATCH NOW link on
the revelationtv-dot-com website...
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Johnee Jingo
He was just fifteen, he was a new trainee
He lied about it for the opportunity
To defend the border his life was sworn
Though not a generation was native born
Johnee jingo
Johnee jingo
He had lost the battle but won the war
When the generals said he couldnt fight no more
He was proud and bitter at what hed done
So he passed it off to his favorite son
Johnee jingo
Johnee jingo
Jingo dont you fight for me
Jingo dont you speak for me
To the man who owns the land
Were all the same
But when his grip begins to slip
Then hell be calling out your name
Johnee jingo
And the throne, the pulpit, and the politician
Create a thirst for power in the common man
Its a taste for blood passed off as bravery
Or just patriotism hiding bigotry
song performed by by Todd Rundgren
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The thunder cat
In the bush I see a strange thing,
a secret cat
that like a phantom
follow our tracts, shadowing behind
leaving no tracts of its own.
Red eyes glow at night
with the intensity of a fire burning
but every time that I really look
it’s out of reach.
Around the orange-yellow fire
where we are barbequing the meat
from the day’s hunting
I can almost smell the monster
where it sneaks out of sight
around us.
I wonder what has awaken
in the wild veldt, the jungle
and what hell of a thing
we now have drawn
from its sleep?
My.308 rifle and hunting knife
both lie near to my side,
but something let me comprehend
that no usual weapons
will stand against this monster
but at that time I am still convinced
that it’s only imagination
and the tiredness, the party
at the fire
and my thoughts are playing with me.
Totally unconcerned we go to sleep
and with time the flames
burn lower and lower
and there are only glowing coals left.
When I wake up with a start
a bright moon is in the sky
and something strange
stand over me
and it looks part transparent
but still with a fixed
dark form.
I can smell death
on the breath of it
and see its teeth glittering
and it’s as if thunder
flames from its jaws
when it bites at me
and an urge for survival
let me jump from the ground
to the other side
of the glowing coals
and its teeth clash on each other.
Next to me lies a shovel
and some of the coals
still have small flames
and I see that the coals
make it hesitate for a moment.
Desperately I grab the shovel,
scoop if full of coals
and when the monster
opens its jaws again
to take another bite at me
and I get the rotten smell
of its foul breath
I throw the whole shovel
down its throat.
For a moment it roars thundering,
is filled with bright white thunderbolts
and stand ablaze
and looks like a thunder cat
before it disappears into the darkness
and becomes nothing
as if suddenly it’s in another dimension
and everybody stares at me
with eyes huge as saucers
and from the sand
I pick up two teeth
that shines strangely, like diamonds,
but with an unknown blue-white fire
glowing from the inside.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Through the thick African bush
Through the thick African bush
a troop of soldiers patrol
with black painted faces
and webbing with ammunition bags
strapped around their chests
and h-frames, water bottles
and weapons in their hands
and death
as a comrade leaves
its tracts with them.
They do not ask any questions
in a v-formation they move along
they move along
and death takes its toll
of the enemy
and eats like a cancer
on the soul of everyone
that carries its instruments.
Small like ants
they tread tracts
in to Africa
and their buddy gets wings
and grows as far as they go
and bloody and dark and grim
it spreads over the whole continent
and brakes out
everywhere across the earth.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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After All
Please trip them gently, they dont like to fall
(oh by jingo)
Theres no room for anger, were all very small
(oh by jingo)
Were painting our faces and dressing in thoughts from the skies, from paradise
But they think that were holding a secretive ball
Wont someone invite them
Theyre just taller children, (oooo), thats all, after all
Man is an obstacle, sad as the clown
(oh by jingo)
So hold on to nothing, and he wont let you down
(oh by jingo)
Some people are marching together and some on their own
Quite alone
Others are running, the smaller ones crawl
But some sit in silence, theyre just older children
(oooo), thats all, after all
I sing with impertinence, shading impermanent chords,
With my words
Ive borrowed your time and Im sorry I called
But the thought just occurred that were nobodys children at all, (oooo), after all
Live to your rebirth and do what you will
(oh by jingo)
Forget all Ive said, please bear me no ill
(oh by jingo)
After all, after all
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What I do not want to write is didactic political tracts.
quote by Joan D. Vinge
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Exhuming Mccarthy
Youre beautiful more beautiful than me
Youre honorable more honorable than me
Loyal to the bank of america
Its a sign of the times
Its a sign of the times
Youre sharpening stones, walking on coals
To improve your business acumen.
Sharpening stones, walking on coals,
To improve your business acumen.
Vested interest united ties, landed gentry rationalize
Look who bought the myth, by jingo, buy america
Its a sign of the times
Its a sign of the times
Youre sharpening stones, walking on coals
To improve your business acumen.
Sharpening stones, walking on coals,
To improve your business acumen.
Enemy sighted, enemy met, Im addressing the realpolitik
Look who bought the myth, by jingo, buy america
let us not assassinate this man further senator,
Youve done enough. have you no sense of decency, sir?
At long last, have you left no sense of decency?
Youre sharpening stones, walking on coals
To improve your business acumen.
Sharpening stones, walking on coals,
To improve your business acumen.
Enemy sighted, enemy met, Im addressing the realpolitik
Youve seen start and youve seen quit
(Im addressing the table of content)
I always thought of you as quick
Exhuming mccarthy
(meet me at the book burning)
Exhuming mccarthy
(meet me at the book burning)
song performed by by REM
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There are tracts in my life that are bare and silent. They are the open spaces where my busy days had their light and air.
aphorism by Rabindranath Tagore from Stray Birds (1916), translated by Rabindranath Tagore
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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I had gained the summit of a commanding ridge, and, looking round with astonishing delight, beheld the ample plains, the beauteous tracts below.
quote by Daniel Boone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Let Us Together Regenerate Restore Earth Balances
let there be restoration of balances
replant vast tracts of deforestation jungles
oxygenate multiple dead sea zones
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fragment: A Wanderer
He wanders, like a day-appearing dream,
Through the dim wildernesses of the mind;
Through desert woods and tracts, which seem
Like ocean, homeless, boundless, unconfined.
poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In the little hall leading to it was a rack holding various Socialist or radical newspapers, tracts, and pamphlets in very small print and on very bad paper. The subjects treated were technical Marxist theories.
quote by Agnes Smedley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Popeye The Sailor Man
(kinky friedman & panama red)
My heart is on my sleeve,
Do you still believe ?
Are you listenin to the tide roll in, watchin ships at sea ?
When I come sailin home again will you be there for me,
There for me ?
Treasure ships of yore
Grace the ocean floor
Columbus sailed for italy, columbus sailed for spain.
Columbus sailed a wishin well, columbus died in chains,
Died in chains.
I dont pretend to know every answer
To everything that life may ask of me.
Hey, Im popeye the sailor man
Im popeye the sailor man
Hey, popeye the sailor man
And I sail the lonely sea eternally.
My true love calls to me from far across the sea.
She says, red skies in the mornin
Sailor take warnin
Sail with me tonight
Sailors delight, sailors delight.
I dont pretend to know every answer
To everything that life may ask of me.
Hey, Im popeye the sailor man
Popeye the sailor man,
Popeye the sailor man
And I sail the lonely sea eternally.
She said, popeye the sailor man
Popeye the sailor man
Oh, popeye the sailor man
Sail on home to me, come sail with me.
song performed by by Kinky Friedman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Long ago a man
Long ago a man
with sandals and a cloak
walked on dust roads
and like it is with people
he was different.
He saw every one as his brother
and sister
and shared his possessions
with everyone around him.
Love, compassion and comprehension
was in his eyes
and he did nothing
for his own advantage
and still today
his tracts lie wide
and they cannot fade away.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Winterwood
(mclean)
No one can take your place with me
And time has proven that Im right
Theres no place Id rather be
Than at your place for the night
No time can pass your sight unseen
No moment steals away unfound
Lifetime lived in such a dream
Floats like a feather to the ground
And for the first time Ive been seeing
The things Ive never noticed without you
And for the first time Im discovering
The things I used to treasure about you
Birds like leaves on winterwood
Sing hopeful songs on dismal days
Theyve learned to live life as they should
They are at peace with natures ways
You are as natural as the night
And all that springs from you is good
And the children born beneath your light
Are like the birds on winterwood
And for the first time Ive been seeing
The things Ive never noticed without you
And for the first time Im discovering
The things I used to treasure about you
song performed by by Olivia Newton-John
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Distributing Invaluable Knowledge As You Observe
To think, a Christian Gospel tract
Can help to save a soul...
And yet, in truth, it's proved a fact,
For God's love makes us whole...
Anointed by our Saviour's prayers,
The Holy Bible stands
A witness just how much God cares,
Wherever Scripture lands!
She chose her spot where most folks were
And gave out tracts that day...
A miracle just might occur,
As she went on her way...
She prayed that God would open eyes,
As well as hearts and minds,
So that lost souls would realise
God's wonders and God's signs!
The tracts were just like promises
God had prepared before...
All His people know what bliss is,
At times, thrilled to the core!
The day when Bible verses rule
And Satan's lies all lose!
The day that he can't cheat or fool!
The day that sinners choose...
Disciples spread God's Holy Word,
His Good News far and wide...
Our eyes observe, no longer blurred,
Our hearts are warmed inside!
For God so loved the World He gave
His one and only Son
And in Christ's death, God wants to save
From all the sins we've done...
To think, a Christian Gospel tract
Can help to save a soul...
And yet, in truth, it's proved a fact,
For God's love makes us whole...
Anointed by our Saviour's prayers,
The Holy Bible stands
A witness just how much God cares,
Wherever Scripture lands!
Denis Martindale, copyright, August 2012.
Shortcut info: tinyurl-dot-com/dikayo-poem
The Gospel poem title's based on the initials
spelling out dikayo since the dikayo-dot-com
website was featured in a short video showing
Mariya giving out Christian tracts to passersby,
in the hope of preaching the Gospel to them.
God bless Mariya who emailed me the video link.
Video shortcut: bit.ly/2MinTip
It links to parts 1 and 2 and also the
dikayo username playlist for lots more!
We can hear the word of the Lord on
Revelation TV on UK Sky Digital 581
as well as the WATCH NOW link on
the revelationtv-dot-com website...
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Im Popeye The Sailor Man
Im popeye the sailor man. Im popeye the sailor man.
Im strong to the finich, cause I eats me spinach.
Im popeye the sailor man.
Im one tough gazookus, which hates all palookas.
Wot aint on the up and square.
I biffs em and buffs em and always out roughs em
But none of em gets nowhere.
If anyone dares to risk my fisk, its boff an its wham unerstan?
So keep good be-hav-or, thats your one life saver
With popeye the sailor man.
Im popeye the sailor man, Im popeye the sailor man.
Im strong to the finich, cause I eats me spinach.
Im popeye the sailor man.
song performed by by Face To Face
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Lost Colonel
''Tis a woeful yarn,' said the sailor man bold
Who had sailed the northern-lakes
'No woefuler one has ever been told
Exceptin' them called 'fakes.''
'Go on, thou son of the wind and fog,
For I burn to know the worst!'
But his silent lip in a glass of grog
Was dreamily immersed.
Then he wiped it on his sleeve and said:
'It's never like that I drinks
But what of the gallant gent that's dead
I truly mournful thinks.
'He was a soldier chap-leastways
As 'Colonel' he was knew;
An' he hailed from some'rs where they raise
A grass that's heavenly blue.
'He sailed as a passenger aboard
The schooner 'Henery Jo.'
O wild the waves and galeses roared,
Like taggers in a show!
'But he sat at table that calm an' mild
As if he never had let
His sperit know that the waves was wild
An' everlastin' wet!-
'Jest set with a bottle afore his nose,
As was labeled 'Total Eclipse'
(The bottle was) an' he frequent rose
A glass o' the same to his lips.
'An' he says to me (for the steward slick
Of the 'Henery Jo' was I):
'This sailor life's the very old Nick
On the lakes it's powerful dry!'
'I says: 'Aye, aye, sir, it beats the Dutch.
I hopes you'll outlast the trip.'
But if I'd been him-an' I said as much
I'd 'a' took a faster ship.
'His laughture, loud an' long an' free,
Rang out o'er the tempest's roar.
'You're an elegant reasoner,' says he,
'But it's powerful dry ashore!''
'O mariner man, why pause and don
A look of so deep concern?
Have another glass-go on, go on,
For to know the worst I burn.'
'One day he was leanin' over the rail,
When his footing some way slipped,
An' (this is the woefulest part o' my tale),
He was accidental unshipped!
'The empty boats was overboard hove,
As he swum in the 'Henery's wake';
But 'fore we had 'bouted ship he had drove
From sight on the ragin' lake!'
'And so the poor gentleman was drowned
And now I'm apprised of the worst.'
'What! him? 'Twas an hour afore he was found
In the yawl-stone dead o' thirst!'
poem by Ambrose Bierce
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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