What atonement is there for blood spilt upon the earth?
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Atonement ceremony
Atonement does not atone for the offence
Done by one until one's made atonement
Direct, personal, to the one offended
And until the offended is prepared
To forgive the offender in response
To compensations and repentance made.
Atonement demands no ceremony.
Feel the tone of it; you get atonement.
25.09.2012
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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If blood is spilt on you before breakfast, you will shed blood before nightfall.
Moses Dedicated The Law Of Moses
Moses read to the people the law.
The people promised to obey the law.
Moses sprinkled blood on the people
blood on the book sealed the people
sealed in contact with dedicating blood
thus was born a new Mosaic Covenant
the first covenant was dedicated blood
Moses spoke every precept
to all the people according to the law
Moses took blood of calves
goats, with water, scarlet wool, hyssop
sprinkled both the book and all the people
saying 'This is the blood of the covenant
which God has commanded you.' Hebrews 9: 18-22.
Moses sprinkled with blood
both the tabernacle and all vessels
of ministry according to law
almost all things
holy are purified
in sacrificial blood
shedding of blood
there is remission
atonement in blood
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Jesus Dedicated The Law Of Baptism
Jesus took bread blessed broke it
gave it to his disciples and said
'Take, eat; this is My body.'
Jesus took the cup gave thanks
gave it to his chosen disciples
saying 'Drink from it, all of you.
For this is My blood
of the new covenant,
which is shed for many
for the remission of sins. ' Matthew 26: 26-28.
Jesus becomes Christian Covenant
it was necessary
copies of utensils in heaven
should be purified
Christ entered not
into holy places
made with hands
dedicated true copies
Christ entered into heaven
to appear in the presence of God
not as the high priest enters
the most Holy of Holies
once every year with offering blood
animal blood for our sins
Christ freely made atonement
sacrifice his own suffering blood
for the atonement of our sins Hebrews 9: 23-26.
Christ entered not
by means of the blood
of goats and calves
Christ entered the Most
Holy Place once for all
by his own sacred blood
having obtained eternal redemption Hebrews 9: 12.
'How much more, then, will the blood
of Christ, who through the eternal Spirit
offered himself unblemished to God,
cleanse our consciences from acts
that lead to death, so that
we may serve the living God! ' Hebrews 9: 14.
a Christian Covenant blood dedicated
a Spiritual Israelite Law of Jesus Christ
a Spiritual Circumcision Baptism in Christ
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Sonnet- Global Peace, At What Cost?
By just a few men’s insane sins on earth,
How much of sufferings get set afree?
The world wonders if ’tis anyway worth;
Yet, ’tis the only way it ought to be.
The heinous crimes affect most innocents;
How blood gets spilt so freely in the fray!
Man’s peaceful life becomes really tense;
The good must join keep evil at bay.
There is a price to pay for anything;
The price is higher for heralding peace,
Which martyrs lives and blood alone can bring,
From terroristic endeavors, release.
The road to global peace is thorny;
Stormy could always become the journey!
poem by John Celes
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Pukllay Meaning Of ‘Yawar Mayu' Battles
what meaning function did
‘Yawar Mayu' blood battles fulfill
fights embodied an appreciation
of complementarity of opposites
fundamental principle in quantum mechanics
results inherently dependent upon devices
employed in each measurement
various agreed upon social bases
in each complementary measurement
men engaged in ceremonial conflicts
bravely facing injury possibility
bravely facing death possibility
being cheered on by their women
fights held for social betterment
of the larger Andean community
purpose balance restoration
encompassed both sides of ritual fight
regeneration blood must be spilt
blood spilt
as an offering
to Pachamama
for the fertility of the fields
in both neighbouring communities
purpose is a communal effort
a conflict to benefit both sides
blood offerings flow to Pachamama
blood had to flow as Pachamama
needs a few drops of devotee blood
communities come together to provide
this offering opponents end in solidarity
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Young Goals
Young goals massively exist,
Like the wombs of the mothers.
Never in the happy world is darkness
A void, but a night of holy silence.
A womb spilt blood when in darkness
As it is darkness that is spilt by the day.
Each and every day carries warmth of the stars,
No matter when the day stops.
The goals of youth are like these days and nights,
Why do young men and women exist?
poem by Naveed Akram
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God Is Incarnate In Us
How can God
in complexity infinity
touch man humankind?
God is
reaching out to us
coming to us;
incarnate in flesh in us.
Born of a virgin
atonement of sin
through Jesus all win;
in his death reconciliation.
God is enthroned in destination heaven.
Jesus is sitting on the right hand of God.
Holy Spirit is liberating seeking earth souls.
How can God
in complexity infinity
touch man?
God is reaching out to us
coming to us
incarnate in flesh in us.
Born of a virgin
atonement of sin
through Jesus win;
a messiah physical divine.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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We will not bend or fail until the blood of every last Jew from the youngest child to the oldest elder is spilt to redeem our land!
quote by Yasser Arafat
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Holy City
Midnight in the holy city
Playground for restless souls
Graveyards for the sons of ft. sumpter
And the ghostly daughters
Wait for their boys to come home
Moonlight in the holy city
So thick it warms the air
Burned my heart on a sweet southern flame
Like a hug from your mama saying it will be ok
Spilt my blood, in the holy city
Seen the flood of a thousand rains
I ran away from the holy city
Heard the spirits in the steeple singing
Youll be back again
Sunrise in the holy city
The kings and queens shuffle by
Im born here of my own ashes
Just lay me down here when I die
Spilt my blood, in the holy city
Seen the flood of a thousand rains
I ran away from the holy city
Heard the spirits in the steeple singing
Youll be back again
Ive seen visions
Lord Ive seen visions
Hanging in the summer sky
I fell in love, lost my heart
Laughed until I cried
song performed by by Edwin McCain
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sexual Assassin
Would you
Find me sexier
If I were
An assassin
In pursuit
Of your
Childhood rapist
To slit his throat
In a dark alley
Until his
Spilt blood
Pleaded for
Your forgiveness?
poem by Uriah Hamilton
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Creator And Savior
God not only is our Creator, He, in Christ, is a wonderful Savior,
The Creator of all we can see, came down to earth from Eternity.
Christ came to die upon a cross, to be the Savior of all the lost,
And with God’s price for sin paid, in a grave, His body was laid.
The Creator became a sacrifice, paying for us the ultimate price,
Then He rose in victory over sin, creating for all New Life in Him.
For God’s Own Chosen Lamb, Jesus Christ, is The Great “I Am”.
Existent prior to creating man, then chosen to finish God’s plan.
God’s Plan to redeem creation, all through our Lord’s Salvation,
A salvation that is offered to none, apart from belief in His Son,
God’s Only Son, Jesus Christ, sent to the earth to offer His life,
As God’s ransom, sent for all, to redeem man from Adam’s fall.
The Lord and Creator of men, was sent to save the condemned,
Condemned from the sin of one, and saved by God’s Own Son.
Reconciled to God up above, by the action of our Savior’s love,
All sinners offered life eternally, from that blood spilt at Calvary.
The Creator, both pure and just, condemned all to return to dust,
Separated from God Eternally, apart, from the Blood of Calvary,
Blood spilled from Christ’s side, as on the cross, for all He died,
As He faced death with its strife, to gain for sinners, Eternal Life.
I know that I'm very lucky to be alive. For 35 or 40 years I've spilt my blood and broke my bones and spent years in hospitals.
quote by Evel Knievel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Thy Brother's Blood
I have no Brother,—they who meet me now
Offer a hand with their own wills defiled,
And, while they wear a smooth unwrinkled brow,
Know not that Truth can never be beguiled;
Go wash the hand that still betrays thy guilt;—
Before the spirit's gaze what stain can hide?
Abel's red blood upon the earth is spilt,
And by thy tongue it cannot be denied;
I hear not with the ear,—the heart doth tell
Its secret deeds to me untold before;
Go, all its hidden plunder quickly sell,
Then shalt thou cleanse thee from thy brother's gore,
Then will I take thy gift;—that bloody stain
Shall not be seen upon thy hand again.
poem by Jones Very
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Africans
Africans at this hour of the day deserve an atonement,
And in the name of the looted wealth during Slavery Days;
But, do think very well before you tread on this issue.
Blind justice,
But it is time to push harder and harder! !
And to create the atmosphere of blameless error,
For there are more stories to say about the Slavery.
Physical death doesn't separate a man from a woman,
Because in the way of Yahweh they are always united forever!
But, i am only writing to the one who knows the law.
Africans need atonement in many ways,
For our past stories are still recorded in our minds;
And peace is right here at our fingertips.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Ritual Ram
Bathed in final sweat of his blood
A sickle above ready to wreath
To the breath-taking holy din
He bleats with gory eyes
Whilst his soul
All set ready to soar
To the bloody god
Heaving the sinful globe of heavenly prayers..
Human tears bleed vows for atonement
poem by Indira Renganathan
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(Angry Poem) Blood On The Floor
Mark My Words,
This Will Not End Good.
I Can Already See The Blood On Floor.
Spilt Everywhere.
All Because Of You.
All Because You Can Never Lose.
Always Right Never Wrong.
Just Walk Away Leave It Alone.
Its Like Trying To Talk To A Brick Wall.
There's Just No Way To Get Through To You.
Mark My Words,
This Will No End Good. I Can Already Blood On The Floor.
Must We Go Through This Once More.
The Stress Builds,
The Headache Becomes A Migraine.
Too Close To Just Losing It.
Becoming Completely Insane
Going On A Rampage.
I Just Can't Stop Now,
I Won't Stop Now.
Not Till The Place Is Burnt To The Ground.
Buried In Mounds Of Ash Lie's A Key chain Its All That Will Be Left Of You.
Please Oh Please Just Stop Enough Is Enough.
A Scream After Every Heartbeat.
No Reason,
No Logic Behind All This.
Just Swallow That God Damn Pride.
Or Just Go Kill Yourself,
Yes Oh Yes Beautiful Suicide.
This World Would Be So Much Of A Better Place.
Mark My Words,
This Will Not End Good.
I Can Already See The Blood On The Floor.
You Opened This Door.
Now Theirs No Going Back.
You Better Just Shut Up Now, Now, Now.
I Say Bow, Bow, Bow,
Beg For Mercy, Kiss My God Damn Feet.
For We Have Reach The Tipping Point.
Just Relax It Will Be Quick.
It Will Be A Great Ending To This.
Mark My Words,
This Will Not End Good.
I Can Already See The Blood On The Floor.
As The Anger In Me Soar.
Like An Eagle I'm Flying So High Right Now.
With Nothing But Pure Adrenaline
I'm Prepared To Rip You Heart Out With My Talons So Sharp.
Mark My Words,
This Will Not End Good.
I Can already See The Blood On The Floor.
Theirs Just So Much Blood On The Floor.
Just So God Damn Much Blood On The Floor.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Through Foulest Fogs
THROUGH foulest fogs of my own sluggish soul,
Through midnight glooms of all the wide world's guilt,
Through sulphurous cannon-clouds that surge and roll
Above the steam of blood in anger spilt;
Through all the sombre earth-oppressing piles
Of old cathedral temples which expand
Sepulchral vaults and monumental aisles,
Hopeless and freezing in the lifeful land;
I gaze and seek with ever-longing eyes
For God, the Love-Supreme, all-wise, all-good:
Alas! in vain; for over all the skies
A dark and awful shadow seems to brood,
A numbing, infinite, eternal gloom:
I tremble in the consciousness of Doom.
poem by James Thomson
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Blood Red Roses
Blood red
The roses she'd
Always received
Blood red
Blood red
The sole chroma
Of her world
Blood red
Blood red
Spurted out from
His thorn-like barbs
Blood red
Blood red
Her anguished life
Assiduous
Blood red
Blood red
Her favorite
Shade of roses
Blood red
poem by Alice Vedral Rivera
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The Crowing of the Red Cock
Across the Eastern sky has glowed
The flicker of a blood-red dawn,
Once more the clarion cock has crowed,
Once more the sword of Christ is drawn.
A million burning rooftrees light
The world-wide path of Israel's flight.
Where is the Hebrew's fatherland?
The folk of Christ is sore bestead;
The Son of Man is bruised and banned,
Nor finds whereon to lay his head.
His cup is gall, his meat is tears,
His passion lasts a thousand years.
Each crime that wakes in man the beast,
Is visited upon his kind.
The lust of mobs, the greed of priest,
The tyranny of kings, combined
To root his seed from earth again,
His record is one cry of pain.
When the long roll of Christian guilt
Against his sires and kin is known,
The flood of tears, the life-blood spilt,
The agony of ages shown,
What oceans can the stain remove,
From Christian law and Christian love?
Nay, close the book; not now, not here,
The hideous tale of sin narrate,
Reëchoing in the martyr's ear,
Even he might nurse revengeful hate,
Even he might turn in wrath sublime,
With blood for blood and crime for crime.
Coward? Not he, who faces death,
Who singly against worlds has fought,
For what? A name he may not breathe,
For liberty of prayer and thought.
The angry sword he will not whet,
His nobler task is -- to forget.
poem by Emma Lazarus
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