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Sins Of Omission
On the fringes of torso and lips
Straining to hear the voice of gospel choir
Pummelled plains and beaten fields
Were never broken in spirit within
But I feel like were coming around
Yes, I feel like were coming around
Tell me
Cloud burst teeming, insect wave and bite
Yes its true, we are not alone
Tv silence its a narrow entrance
Its a sometimes leading into future time
But I feel like were coming around
Yes, I feel like were coming around
I feel like were coming around
Sins of omission, no love
Sins of omission
I heard it once before in shepherds isolation
Over the horizon in blue and white now, now
Now overcome you can outrun it
When the roarings cease and the right stuff weaves and fits into your life
And I feel like were coming around
Yes I feel like Im coming around, tell me
Sins of omission, no love
Sins
song performed by by Midnight Oil
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Rendezvous
Nightly I put up this humble petition:
'Forgive me, O Father of Glories,
My sins of commission, my sins of omission,
My sins of the Mission Dolores.'
poem by Ambrose Bierce
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Three conditions are necessary for Penance: contrition, which is sorrow for sin, together with a purpose of amendment; confession of sins without any omission; and satisfaction by means of good works.
quote by Thomas Aquinas
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Portrait of the Artist as a Prematurely Old Man
It is common knowledge to every schoolboy and even every Bachelor of Arts,
That all sin is divided into two parts.
One kind of sin is called a sin of commission, and that is very important,
And it is what you are doing when you are doing something you ortant,
And the other kind of sin is just the opposite and is called a sin of omission
and is equally bad in the eyes of all right-thinking people, from
Billy Sunday to Buddha,
And it consists of not having done something you shuddha.
I might as well give you my opinion of these two kinds of sin as long as,
in a way, against each other we are pitting them,
And that is, don't bother your head about the sins of commission because
however sinful, they must at least be fun or else you wouldn't be
committing them.
It is the sin of omission, the second kind of sin,
That lays eggs under your skin.
The way you really get painfully bitten
Is by the insurance you haven't taken out and the checks you haven't added up
the stubs of and the appointments you haven't kept and the bills you
haven't paid and the letters you haven't written.
Also, about sins of omission there is one particularly painful lack of beauty,
Namely, it isn't as though it had been a riotous red-letter day or night every
time you neglected to do your duty;
You didn't get a wicked forbidden thrill
Every time you let a policy lapse or forget to pay a bill;
You didn't slap the lads in the tavern on the back and loudly cry Whee,
Let's all fail to write just one more letter before we go home, and this round
of unwritten letters is on me.
No, you never get any fun
Out of things you haven't done,
But they are the things that I do not like to be amid,
Because the suitable things you didn't do give you a lot more trouble than the
unsuitable things you did.
The moral is that it is probably better not to sin at all, but if some kind of
sin you must be pursuing,
Well, remember to do it by doing rather than by not doing.
poem by Ogden Nash
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Sorry To Say
‘Sorry' is the easiest excuse
sometimes, deliberately misused
comes very handy, for unmindful lapses
saving both from an angry course, often.
there seems to be a misconception, that
seeking ‘sorry' has some limitations
as it is seldom heard or used
among family members, as hardly, I have seen.
All are respectable individuals
no bars, immunities, exclusions, age-division
upon commission or omission, we are bound to say sorry
with a genuine air of repentance, care and reverence
poem by Santhana Louis
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Better
Get it right
My last word sins
I taste it now
Omission wins
For keeping down
My better side
I still ignore
And try to hide
So get out
The easy word
Will never slip
I brought it down
To take the lip
Dont need to know
Dont have to feel
Your better side
I had to steal
Your better, you die better
Write down the day, expend it
Work it in again, death ends it
song performed by by Helmet
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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7 Deadly Sins
7 seven deadly sins
Thats how the world begins
Watch out when you step in
For seven deadly sins
Seven deadly sins
Thats when the fun begins
(seven deadly sins)
(sin number one) was when you left me
(sin number two) you said goodbye
(sin number three) was when you told me a little white lie
Seven deadly sins
Once it starts, it never ends (seven deadly sins)
Watch out aroung the bend (seven deadly sins)
A seven deadly sins (seven deadly sins)
(sin number four) was when you looked my way
(sin number five) was when you smiled
(sin number six) was when you let me stay
Sin number seven was when you touched me and told me why
Seven deadly sins
So many rules to bend
Time and time again
Seven deadly sins
Seven deadly sins
(seven deadly sins)
(seven deadly sins)
(seven deadly sins)
Seven deadly sins
Thats how the world begins (seven deadly sins)
Watch out when you step in (seven deadly sins)
For seven deadly sins
Seven (seven) seven (seven) seven (seven) seven (deadly sins)
song performed by by George Harrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sins and pleasure
Pleasure of sins lures me to sin.
Sins of pleasure follow me in.
I sow sins to harvest pleasure
And sow pleasure to harvest sins.
Virtues might promise me pleasure
But it is sins that assure of it.
Sins are the food meant for senses.
Virtues are the food made of ego.
I do sins to derive pleasure
And then repent to cleanse my soul.
Virtues I stay with; sins I flirt with.
29.03.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Our Sins
Our sins are leading us away from the truth!
Our sins are causing all the troubles in this world,
Our sins are bringing about all these wars around us,
Our sins have torn us apart from love! !
And, we now hate each other in this world.
Glabal warming! !
And, it is all because of our sins;
Our sins have really destroyed everything around us.
Just watch the news!
Just listen to your neihbour!
Just look around you!
Just see how much hatred is being expressed among us!
Our sins have torn us apart from love.
Scenes, sins!
Of the scenes of life full of many troubles;
All in the name of our sins.
The Creator, whose Original Name is Yahweh,
Created us all with true love in many colours;
But, our sins have led us to hate each other on this earth.
Famine, disaster, sickness, accident, drought!
And all the global warming seen around us;
Are all caused by our sins because,
We failed to follow the Laws of Yahweh.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Confessing Sins
when guilt is full
there comes a time when we think of
the possibility of confessing our sins,
the usual sins of omissions
more than our sins of commissions,
to a friend perhaps, but you doubt
for he has more sins than you have
and it might as well end
on the reverse, you the listening tree
and he the barking dog,
or perhaps to a religious group but
you shy away because of their number
and you might as well at the end be the
subject of their gossip
in town for a week or so,
and so you become a catholic again
on a Sunday before your parish priest
you kneel down and confess your sins,
and your dismay the priest says,
'
my son these are not sins anymore
under the new doctrines
with an ending, don't worry my boy
you'll do penance just the same
say three our fathers and three hail Mary's
and don't come back
your sins are the same as mine'
what comfort is this, when sins are confessed
to a person on the same misery and guilt as we are.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Seldom, very seldom, does complete truth belong to any human disclosure; seldom can it happen that something is not a little disguised, or a little mistaken.
Jane Austen in Emma
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There Is A Poem Of The Evening
THERE IS A POEM OF THE EVENING
There is a poem of the evening
never written before.
The tiredness of time
And the tiredness of mind
take flight.
when in the cool corner
of the silent light
Lines are put down
Slowly
One by one,
As if in forgiveness
For all the sins of omission
Of a life
that never came to be
what it dreamed
In the evening here
After the long day
And who knows how much time he has left
as these lines are written.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Simple, Seldom and Sad
Simple, seldom and sad
We are;
Alone on the Halibut Hills
Afar,
With sweet mad Expressions
Of old
Strangely beautiful
So we're told
By the Creatures that Move
In the sky
And Die
On the night when the Dead Trees
Prance and Cry.
Sensitive, seldom and sad -
Sensitive, seldom and sad -
Simple, seldom and sad
Are we
When we take our path
To the purple sea -
With mad, sweet Expressions
Of Yore,
Strangely beautiful,
Yea, and More
On the Night of all Nights
When the sky
Streams by
In rags, while the Dead Trees
Prance and Cry,
sensitive, seldom and sad -
sensitive, seldom and sad.
poem by Mervyn Peake
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The Main Regret
[Written for the Charing Cross Album]
I.
Seen, too clear and historic within us, our sins of omission
Frown when the Autumn days strike us all ruthlessly bare.
They of our mortal diseases find never healing physician;
Errors they of the soul, past the one hope to repair.
II.
Sunshine might we have been unto seed under soil, or have scattered
Seed to ascendant suns brighter than any that shone.
Even the limp-legged beggar a sick desperado has flattered
Back to a half-sloughed life cheered by the mere human tone.
poem by George Meredith
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When Your Sins Come Home to Roost
When you fear the barber’s mirror when you go to get a crop,
Or in sorrow every morning comb your hair across the top:
When you titivate and do the little things you never used—
It is close upon the season when your sins come home to roost.
Many were the sins of others and you never were to blame,
Some were sins you shared in common—you must suffer all the same;
Some were sins of wasted hours with the wine cup or a mate,
But you cannot share the burden—and they come in duplicate.
Oh! you’ll find the fowls are heavy and their claws are sharp and deep—
They will bow your head in working, they will jerk you from your sleep,
And so many hands are eager just to give your back a boost
On the road to wreck and ruin when your sins come home to roost.
But you don’t let on they’re roosting and you take some only way,
And you never whine or guzzle and you neither curse nor pray;
You will never for an instant let your lower lip be loosed—
But you stand up like a soldier when your sins come home to roost!
And you’ll find them growing lighter till you find room for a few
Of the sins of other mortals who have weaker souls than you:
Then you’ll smile, and not too sadly, at old sins reintroduced—
And you’ll be a man in many when your sins come home to roost.
poem by Henry Lawson
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Lucky Sin
Luck reminds me of sin,
Sins collect from the odour.
A fortune fades, faces do fight,
How do we describe the sins?
The luck is like gambling, a soot
From the chimney of the home.
My sins concern me, like fire and ice,
They flop, flip and fold in a paper-form,
To write books of acts and messages,
That luck writes, that sins are simpler.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Her Sins Are Not My Own
Her sins belong to her alone.
My sins are my own.
My sins are more than enough.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Osmosis between good and evil
Sins are forgotten by the sinners.
Sins are forgiven by the creator.
That is why heaven is not empty.
Sins are justified by the sinners.
Sins are allowed by the creator.
That is why hell too is not empty.
But from time to time
Osmosis takes place.
24.04.2002, Pakd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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A man does not sin by commission only, but often by omission.
Marcus Aurelius in Meditations
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The omission of good is no less reprehensible than the commission of evil.