Church is the only place where someone speaks to me and I do not have to answer back.
quote by Charles de Gaulle
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hearing Mass is the ceremony I most favor during my travels. Church is the only place where someone speaks to me and I do not have to answer back.
quote by Charles de Gaulle
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sex & The Church
Though the idea of compassion
Is said to be
The union of christ
And his bride, the christian
Its all very puzzling
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
And the church
And the church
All the great mystic religions
Put strong emphasis, on
Redeame this spiritual qualities
Of sex of sex
Chrstianity
Has been pretty modern
About sex
Of sex of sex of sex of sex
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex sex
I think there is a union
Between the flesh and the spirit
Its sex and the church
Sex and the church
All religions mother
Give me youre freedom of spirit
And the joys of the flesh
Of sex sex sex and the church
Give me youre freedom of spirit
And the joys of the flesh
Of sex sex sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
And the church
And the church
Sex sex
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex sex
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
And the church
And the church
Sex sex
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex sex
Sex
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex sex
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The God speaks
Macbeth speaks; Hamlet speaks.
We say Shakespeare speaks.
Krishna speaks to Arjuna.
We don’t say Vyasar speaks.
21.11.2005
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Lydia Humphrey
Back and forth, back and forth, to and from the church,
With my Bible under my arm
Till I was gray and old;
Unwedded, alone in the world,
Finding brothers and sisters in the congregation,
And children in the church.
I know they laughed and thought me queer.
I knew of the eagle souls that flew high in the sunlight,
Above the spire of the church, and laughed at the church,
Disdaining me, not seeing me.
But if the high air was sweet to them, sweet was the church to me.
It was the vision, vision, vision of the poets
Democratized!
poem by Edgar Lee Masters
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This morning six thirty we drive past a church
This morning six thirty
we drive past a church
where a lot of cars are already parked.
While we pass the church
I wonder about what
the people are praying
and I think that they
must truly be Christians.
The church has a neat yard
and looks out of place
in the inner city where everything dilapidates
and I hear a song softly
that people
is busy singing
and then I know that Gods amazing grace
goes through every thing and every place.
poem by Gert Strydom
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What Happens Next? .....
for now i do not go to church
and hear Sunday mass,
i am coming back as always
early morning
and late at night and between
my busy hours
to savor this forbidden place
with no other objective and wish
that i be finally bored
in this kind of hell
choice and find this place later on
to be horrible
seriously, and sincerely
from the inner conviction of my mind
so i may never find myself
back to this place again
and then finally i tell myself
now i am convinced
now i win
now i must leave
and i will never come back again
but when will this really happen?
only when i am dead?
when it is too late?
when it is already irreversible?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Church
The Church is Church my brother, a place to meet with one another,
A place to meet with our Lord, where grace and mercy are implored,
That place for worship and praise, lifted up to The Ancient of Days,
Men gathering, to bring glory to, The One Who created me and you.
Church is a body of those, who know, The Lord and desire to grow,
In the knowledge of Christ our Lord, as Christ's Body in one accord,
A place to encourage others in Christ, while living in this present life,
Support, that we can only receive, from men in life who also believe.
Church is more than a gathering, of men together to praise and sing,
As it's a place to seek The Lord, who, by love makes us one accord,
As believers are in the presence of, Jesus Christ, Who reigns above,
As Christ builds us together in unity, through the power from Calvary.
The local Church is the very heart, of The Savior's mission, to impart,
The very Truth of God's Salvation, in reaching each and every nation,
The Lord scattered His early Church, for His mission of greater worth,
So that as His Church, we could herald, God's Truth into all the world.
Today's Mission, is still the same, when Believers gather in His Name,
To focus upon our Lord God first, while The Savior builds His Church,
As The Lord grants direction to, His Living Stones, that's me and you,
To finish God's purpose, through us, all, for the glory of Christ Jesus.
(Copyright ©11/2012)
Some Have Steeples. Some Don't
What do I think of church?
'Yes! '
Church?
Like in 'church' church?
'Yes! '
Well...
Some have steeples.
Some don't.
Some have people.
Some wont.
Some are religiously political.
And some are politically religious.
My vehicle is my church.
And that's all I care about.
'Oh?
So your 'car' is your church? '
Oh.
No no!
My 'body' is my church.
It is my sanctuary.
Now...
Keep in mind,
I am not devoted to keep it as pure,
As it should be.
But I do the best I can,
Not to be led away by temptation.
But everyday I pray to be forgiven,
Of those 'sins' I know I should not enjoy!
However...
You can find me anytime,
Self righteously defending...
My point of view.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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After All Said And Done.
After Friday choir practice
in the church
after the other members
had gone to the vestry
to ready themselves for home
she stood in the darkened church
looking at the altar
and the high windows
where only moonlight
shone through
and she said to you
we'll stand here one day
and get married maybe
and say our vows
and there will be
our families and friends
and the parson will say
kiss the bride and you will
and she smiled
and looked at you
standing in the quiet church
and you said
some years off maybe
we're only fourteen
and still at school
and we've got to get pass
your mother yet
like trying to get a ball
by a fat goalie
who fills the net
but she just shook her head
and smiled and said
don't be so negative
look on the positive side
look to the future
with bright eyes
and it seems strange now
and sad to look back
at that night
with you and she
standing in that aisle
in semi-dark
while outside
in the night sky
fate was working out
a different answer
where you
would marry others
and she would die
from cancer.
poem by Terry Collett
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Church Of Women
A lie for a lie, but a truth for the truth
Church of women is made out of milk
Which their love turns to butter -er -er
Church of women will have you give praise
With a laugh, bark and stutter -er -er
Like us men like us men they are nothing like us men
Men have gargoyles round their hearts
Im on my knees but dancing
Want to worship at the church of women
Breathe em in until my head goes spinning around
Want to worship at the church
Let me worship at the church of women
Church of women is making donations of loving and giving -ing -ing
Church of women performing that miracle raising the living -ing -ing
Like us men like us men will they ever like us men?
Men have thorns around their minds
Im on my mountain preaching
Want to worship at the church of women
Breathe em in until my head goes spinning around
Want to worship at the church
Let me worship at the church of women
Lie for a lie, but a truth for the truth
Give em back their house: the walls, the doors, the floors and roof
And stop tryin to diet on the wafers and wine and submit were in control
Now lets put things right
Lets multiply the loves and kisses
til we have enough to love and eat forever
Want to worship at the church of women
I want to worship at the church of women now
Breathe em in until my head goes spinning around
Ill breathe em in until my head goes spinning round
Want to worship at the church
Let me worship at the church of women
Want to worship at the church of women
(repeat x3 and fade)
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Thus speaks the star
Thus speaks the star
Leave them asleep
Thus speaks the star
Buried the past
Thus speaks the star
Go for fresh start
Thus speaks the star
Life is our and our
Thus speaks the star
Be optimistic and go far.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Church Not Made With Hands
Bye-bye shadowlands
The term is over
And all the holidays have begun
Now she walks in fresh fields
Her tracks are on the land
She is everywhere and no place
When its dark and evening falls
She moves among men
They would seek to have her as a prize
But she is in the shadows
The ocean and the sand
She is everywhere and no place
Her church not made with hands
Not contained by man
She is dancing high as clouds
Faster than the arrow
As straight as any crows that flies
Accross great seas she travels
Up through rising lands
She is everywhere and no place
Her church not made with hands
Not contained by man
Isnt that a pretty sun
Setting in a pretty sky?
Will we stay and watch it darken?
Will we stay and watch it darken?
The church not made by hands
Not contained by man
That precious place
Unmade by man
song performed by by Waterboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Hiding Place
you have been here
you must remember
i am back and i shall
have no regrets
this is my hiding place
with no description
it is only you knowing this
knowing me
knowing what is this all about
this comfort of silence
this longing unsatisfied
this dreams unrealized
nature does not weep
it simply grows and blooms
like everybody else
you and i do not belong
to the open
we are not overlooking
the sea
we are inside this cave
deep down in its dampness
we are shadows
we weep because we are alive
we ask when and what next
we wait for there is no answer yet
this is our hiding place
this place of the heart
this beating and pumping
never-ending never gaining
anything
yet never losing too
gazing at the eyes of life
uncomplaining
uncompromising
if nature now weeps
so let it be
soon we shall know
its answer
perhaps after this
heavy rain
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sweet Little Child
Darkness- and yet another day slips away
So lonely- lifes just like an empty room
Where is the answer, when our love was so sweet
I wish I could hold you tonight
But we only came close in my dreams
Sweet little child
Give me your answer
Some broken hearts
Theyd die for that answer
To try to get back, back to the past to break free
Tell me how can I find your sunshine again
Truth is well- you know that better than me
I wish I could hold you tonight
But we only came close in my dreams
Sweet little child
Give me your answer
Some broken hearts
Theyd die for that answer
To try to get back, back to the past to break free,
Sweet little child
Give me your answer
Some broken hearts
Theyd die for that answer
To try to get back, back to the past to break free
Solo
You know some broken hearts, would die for that answer
Sweet little child
Give me your answer
song performed by by U. D. O.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When Bryan Speaks
When Bryan speaks, the town's a hive.
From miles around, the autos drive.
The sparrow chirps. The rooster crows.
The place is kicking and alive.
When Bryan speaks, the bunting glows.
The raw procession onward flows.
The small dogs bark. The children laugh
A wind of springtime fancy blows.
When Bryan speaks, the wigwam shakes.
The corporation magnate quakes.
The pre-convention plot is smashed.
The valiant pleb full-armed awakes.
When Bryan speaks, the sky is ours,
The wheat, the forests, and the flowers.
And who is here to say us nay?
Fled are the ancient tyrant powers.
When Bryan speaks, then I rejoice.
His is the strange composite voice
Of many million singing souls
Who make world-brotherhood their choice.
poem by Vachel Lindsay
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Some Say
Some say that life is a burden,
Some say that life is a blessing,
Some say that life is a cycle,
But I say taht life is boring.
Some say that church is religious,
Some say that church is precious.
Some say that church is annoying,
But I say that church is and will forever be holy.
Some say that our culture is unique,
Some say that our culture is rich.
Some say that our culture is highly respected,
But I say that our culture is a lot to deal with.
Some say that school is a lot of work,
Some say that school is no place for a fool.
Some say that school is a drag.
But I say that school is awesome and cool.
poem by Moana Tuigamala
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To Know The Word of the Spirit Original 01 16 2011
TO KNOW THE WORD
OF THE SPIRIT:
Original 01 16 2011
To know the word as motive
Know that God speaks the nous
Between his will and knowledge
Prerogatives of vision and reason
To know the word as verbal
Know that God speaks transcendent
Nous -to know the word as noun
Know God speaks the tone of you
To know the word as poem read
To know the word as pronoun
Know that god does not speak
Of you god speaks to you
To know the word as adverb
Know that God does not speak
About you God speaks through you
To know the word as adjective
Know that God speaks by you
To know the word as preposition
Know God speaks from the heart
To know the word as poem write
To know the word is off the table
Know that God knows who sops
And all that was [was] forgiven
To know word as free verse
To know the word as parable
Know that God speaks nous
To know that God has spoken
Know pain and pleasure in spirit.
Lee Mack copyright 2009. ISBN # 0615318347. Do not reproduce without permissions.
poem by Lee B. Mack
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What if?
A question to which no answer could be found
What if?
Someone to give an answer in fervent sought
What if she ask herself
What if all precious moments in waste
And every sweet word spoken in vain
What if?
Loved never to be
And chosen yet was another
What if she found him not handsome?
And in seeing, is another seen
What if?
He never looks into my eyes?
And never speaks the words of love
What if my lips never kissed?
And never more than an innocent virgin felt.
poem by Nicholas Boateng
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Self-talk In That Secret....
at the end
i am about to cry
something bothers me
somehow
i can't
i hold the knob of the
door
tightly
i want to go out from
this old house
and be with you
but i finally loosen
my hold
and go back to the room
of myself
the law speaks
tradition warns that something
may happen
and i cannot take
all the possible
harsh
consequences
and so i give up my life
and meaning
i stay in the comfort of ordinary
days
unhappily
but it is worth it
when i come back i find a house where i
can still live
it is you that makes me live some more
in the blur of our memories
when you are finally gone
with no address t refer to
(you never write me letters)
i stay put on my chair
and immerse myself in the deep silence
of my sad thoughts
it is the case again
of i want to go but i must stay
same rehashed argument
when i ask you if you are happy
your answer is yes and no,
but i understand it perfectly
it is the same answer that i write
in my journal
in those three perfect days
i forgive myself
but i can never forget you
love stays
but time shall always try to vanish it
without
our consent
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Doomed Padre
The Loss of Faith
Fated priest when he walks in front of a funeral
procession his gait is often wobbly, says it is stiff
joints; smells of aftershave lotion and brandy.
Lost his faith years ago, in the night his prayer
echoes in the village church.
Thinks it his fault that god has left him in a vacuum
of disbelief a penance for not having a total godly
deference. In his dreams he meets god who speaks
in a language he doesn´t understand; he wakes up
bedroom bleak, and the voice of god has gone.
He says as Jesus once did, why have you forsaken me?
Has a brandy goes back to a restless sleep.
And there is no peace as sexual needs takes over,
actions he will not abide. Morning and he is thankful.
Routines of the day someone has died, funeral service,
and a woman who wants confess her banal sins,
he murmurs prayers, waits for god to answer why he
has lost his faith, but there is only silence.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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