A man has to learn that he cannot command things, but that he can command himself; that he cannot coerce the wills of others, but that he can mold and master his own will: and things serve him who serves Truth; people seek guidance of him who is master of himself.
quote by James Allen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Am I a master
I am the master, master of art
have painted true pictures,
of rising sun, mountain, sea
through jungles flowing rivers,
shining stars, birds, cloudy sky,
can paint anything and everything.
insects, lions, bear and deer.
just like the living things.
I am the master, master of art,
can make my own paint and brush
Alas! but cannot create raw material
of any of paint, brush or canvas.
Oh! can not paint these seven
which are made only in heaven:
smell, touch, look, hear and taste,
emotions, thought and breathe.
No, I am not the master, master of art
can paint uncountable things yet not.
Not possible to paint love and laugh
I have to go again and again to learn
to the supreme master, who painted
the universe, stars, moon and sun
(C) S. D. Tiwari
poem by S.D. Tiwari
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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10/31/2007 Command Post Controller
I work in the command post,
You wouldn’t know there everywhere from coast to coast.
We work while everyone else is wake and sleeping,
We do things that help our nations safe keeping.
No one understands the command post because,
No one fully grasps what the command post does.
Know this though,
Controllers are at work even in the snow.
Holidays we are still here,
24-7 every day of the year.
I work in the command post,
Family I miss the most.
But I don’t gripe nor complain,
I’m proud to serve I have no shame.
Next time your working your nine to five,
Remember controllers actions help keep you alive.
When you lay your head down and asleep you drift,
Remember a command post controller is still on shift.
poem by Coreena Dejesus
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Lord of the Flies
Oh Master my Master
Oh where have you been
I wallowed in filth and
I drowned in sin
Oh Master my Master
It's my rotten luck
To swim in the decay
And swallow the muck
Oh Master my Master
I stand in the fires
Surrounded by murderers
Thieves, cheaters, and liars
Oh Master my Master
the earth has turned red
Fluid with blood
Of the recently dead
Oh Master my Master
What's wrong with the world
The blackness unfolds
Like a flag that's unfurled
Oh Master my Master
You ignore my cries
And now I'm quite sure
You're the Lord of the Flies
poem by Anonymous Ghurl
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My Creation
I will give you life
You'll serve only me
And my will to kill
You will kill for me
All that I desire
All that I command
You are here for me
I'm your Master
My creation
I will make for you
A soul mate to love
Unlike your love for me
And you will take my name
She will be your bride
She will serve me too
And I will introduce to you
The Bride of Frankenstein
song performed by by Megadeth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Master Mind
The master mind, devil of evil.
Initiator of deception, creator of sorrow.
Most cunning, most assuring,
fallen emperor, proud prince.
Master mind, he masters the mind
At the entrance of the grave,
he envies the throne of grace.
author of death, father of hell
rewards flaming passions with flames of fire
and he masters the proud, master mind
He serves to master
and masters the world
beauty, wealth, power, and pride...
his own assets.
The master mind serves the world.
His empire is deception,
his agent is 'reason'
who reasons with the wise
and curses the proud into a trap
He masters the mind, who masters the world!
poem by Timothy muggaga
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The Master Spoke.
Why is the world here today?
The Master Spoke.
Why are we sinners, like sheep gone astray?
The Master Spoke.
Why all this toil, no comfort of Eden,
Since man didn't obey?
The Master Spoke.
Why work the dust of the ground, from whence we came,
And eat 'By the sweat of our brow? '
The Master Spoke.
Why do we, naturally,
Posess the desire to before,
God, want to worship and adore?
The Master Spoke.
Why is Jesus glorified,
And why, for sinners, did he die?
The Master Spoke.
Why shall God return again,
To take away Isreal, His bride?
Why me, a sinner, justified?
The Master Spoke.
Why will there be Revelations, wars,
And roomers of wars,
Nearing the End Times?
The Master Spoke.
Why is God an eternal Being,
But the world shall be no more?
The Master Spoke.
Why is it, that when a man speaks,
His words blow away
As kernals of grain,
And yet, when God speaks, his Word is as rock,
Forever to remain?
The Master Spoke -
'Heaven and Earth shall pass away,
But my words shall never pass away.'
Why do these things occur,
And as it were,
The penalty of sin man did not have to pay?
The Master Spoke -
'For God so loved the world,
That he gave his only Son,
That whoever believes in him
Shall not perish,
But have the gift of eternal life.
Why?
The Master Spoke.
'Go now! Help the needy,
And the weak!
Save hearts that are broken! '
Hurry, now!
The Master has Spoken.
poem by Macy Dvirnak
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Some day Peter will command as much as his master.
The slave loves his master
It is a pleasure
For a master to command his slave.
It is a pleasure
For a slave to attend his master’s call.
The difference is
That the slave’s pleasure is for love.
30.06.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Too Much
As a slave observes his master and so grows
Familiar in his ways (though still in fee)
I have studied Love to bend his blows
Hoping, eventually, to be free:
Meet his every visit with reproaches
When he calls you quickly, quickly tarry
Never seek him, wait till he approaches
Leaving banks where he is known to dally.
Learn to become the Master's master
Master cast as servant of the servant's
Remember Love evaporates the faster
Proportionate to how you offer urgence.
But if you're sick of peace and sanity
Feel free to disregard this monody.
poem by Morgan Michaels
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Oh, My Captain
Oh, my Captain, my Captain
Where is that gleam in your eye?
Where is that sting
Whenever your colors fly?
Where is that thirst
for adventure you sail?
Where is that booming voice
Through oak will drive nail?
Oh, my Captain
Where could you be?
Thy gaze crosses
more than the sea
Where is the man
Who knows not any fears?
Who's cheated death
All these long years
Come Captain,
Where is thy cheer?
We sail into eternity
The rest is unclear
Oh Captain, oh Captain
Why such a sad soul?
It's treasure and loot
So much we have stole
Oh, master, my master
We are, and can no more be
Like the birds,
We are free as long as we breathe
Come Captain, my Captain
Give us command
Give 'weigh all the anchors'
Seek ye new harbors with warm golden sand
to Captain Cur
poem by Midnights Voice
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Sonnet: On God
'Strange are the ways of God, 'None can forecast';
The unseen Master of the Universe;
He knew the present, future and the past;
Despite all afflictions, no one should curse.
God plays chess with a billion at a time;
And none can challenge him, nor ever win;
He calls the weather changes and each clime;
He can redeem man from all mortal sin.
God is the embodiment of all love;
The fountain-Spring that can never go dry;
All things on earth are decided above;
God knows each heart and every Being’s cry.
How can we fail to serve our Master, God?
Because of whom we came, our only Lord.
poem by John Celes
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Respect the doer of mean works
Respect them who do works
That demand no respects
More than them who do works
That command reverence.
Not prepared for such works
That are held low or mean,
You must at least respect
Them who do men works to you.
As a doctor serves you
A barber too serves you.
As a teacher serves you
A sweeper too serves you.
06.02.2012
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Mystical Force of Nature
The mystical force of nature exists
Under the beat of its own drum
A force so strong it commands,
Everything on this planet
Adhering to the rhythm of this life,
Nature is natural,
The phenomena of every living thing
That grows and breaths
Is blessed with a divine will
To live and reproduce.
Mother Nature has no jurisdiction on either
The golden sun or the silver moon, but
Is the leveller of all that lives on earth
And the grand master of none,
Quietly the architect of design changed
By the stroke of time’s evolution
Tells all this must command respect,
Of Mother Nature
The Grand Master forever.
NB Oxf/Dict The Master... 7b Christ
poem by Ken e Hall
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Master
Master went a-hunting,
When the leaves were falling;
We saw him on the bridle path,
We heard him gaily calling.
'Oh master, master, come you back,
For I have dreamed a dream so black!'
A glint of steel from bit and heel,
The chestnut cantered faster;
A red flash seen amid the green,
And so good-bye to master.
Master came from hunting,
Two silent comrades bore him;
His eyes were dim, his face was white,
The mare was led before him.
'Oh, master, master, is it thus
That you have come again to us?'
I held my lady's ice-cold hand,
They bore the hurdle past her;
Why should they go so soft and slow?
It matters not to master.
poem by Arthur Conan Doyle
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In Life on Earth…
The west is not always the best
And east not always the worst;
The north is indiscernible;
The south is unexplainable.
Never ape all things you find around;
Never follow ones un-understandable;
Emulate the good found in others;
Take the good what cultures offer you.
Give unto Caesar what is due to him;
Give unto God what rightly belongs to Him;
One cannot serve both world and God
Except by being righteous all the time.
Nothing you do must exceed its limits;
There are some things that God abhors;
Both good and bad on earth are transient
But will decide your spot in after-life.
Learn to be wise and risk not priceless life;
Learn to not hate but love others around;
Learn to adjust with neighbours and creatures;
Learn to seek God and truth by being holy!
In life on earth, we ought to live right way;
Our conscience will ably guide us through;
Why worry for things earthly, lasting short?
Work for those things eternal in heaven!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 19-04-'12
poem by John Celes
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I Know What My Master Does
I know where my Master lives.
I need no invitation to visit where He is.
I know where my Master lives.
I know what my Master does.
I witness this on a daily basis.
And not with eyes fixed on skies above.
My Master is available whenever I call.
My Master is everything and to me my all.
My Master has seen me stumble and fall,
To get up off my knees to again walk tall.
And if it wasn't for my Master I'd be left to crawl.
I am aware ot this.
I know where my Master lives.
I need no invitation to visit where He is.
I know where my Master lives.
I know what my Master does.
I witness this on a daily basis.
And not with eyes fixed on skies above.
I know what my Master does,
Can do...
And has done for me.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Guidance
When I walk.
Which path do I follow?
Who will tell me?
The high road or low.
Who do I ask?
What is right
or will be wrong?
Who will be my sight?
When times grow hard
and temptations abound.
Who will show me
safe detour around?
Guidance I seek.
To whom can I turn?
From what wise sage
wisdom can I learn?
That truth I chase
so often elusive.
Frustration abounds
to the point of abusive.
So many times
my efforts are checked
by demons of doubt and fear.
Still I shall not be deterred.
The path of truth
the only way I seek.
With guidance it I shall find.
No longer must I be weak.
poem by Kurt Hearth
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Master Of Life
He is the master
the master of life
who attributes his success
to all people
he has so far met...
good ones taught him
how to live and
bad ones showed him
how not to
both of them he doesn't forget...
He attributes his success
to all people
he has so far met.....
He is master
the master of life..
he will remain forever...
poem by Mugdha Khedkar
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People Forget
Going out of one's way,
To discredit the deeds done by others...
To portray them with betrayals,
Mocked and displayed to jest...
Has these disadvantages:
God is always listening.
God is a Master at fixing things.
And God is quick to share,
With those who faithfully pray.
Removing deceivers and exposes truth...
For all to see,
Those who have created such falsities.
And eventually there is an exchanging of pain.
People forget,
Whose World this is.
People forget,
What they do is inspected.
And not just left,
To go undetected.
People forget,
Everything done they do is known.
People forget,
What goes down...
Comes back around like a yo-yo,
Going up and down affixed to a string.
People forget,
These things.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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