En.Citatepedia^®.ro

My ancestors wandered lost in the wilderness for forty years because even in biblical times, men would not stop to ask for directions.

quote by Elayne Boosler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Forty Years Of Warning

Why did God wait forty years after the death and resurrection of Jesus?

An entire generation?

Before was fulfilled the prophecy of Jesus about the destruction of the Temple and fate of Jerusalem!

The number forty is symbolic of trial testing and punishment in Biblical symbolism.

Moses lead the Israelites through forty years of punishment in the wilderness before a new generation
was allowed to enter
the promised land.

Was waiting this forty years
to definitively
prove God's patience?

To allow the Jews time to repent
to turn back to God
to exhibit appropriate
behaviour and worship
so that God could
bless them as God desired
instead of punishing
them as he had warned?

Copyright © Terence GeorgeCraddock
See also 'Temple And City Were Destroyed In 70 A.D.! ' and 'The Fall Of The Temple In 70 A.D.! '

poem by Terence George Craddock
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Wilderness Salvation Ministries For Lost Sheep

Wise men versed already know
God moves in mysterious ways
any great work any human may do
exhibits worships hand of God if endures.

Therefore though priests are steeped versed
in God's mysterious revelations recorded ways
Biblical instructive records of works of Holy Trinity
why is their faith so slow to contemporary recognize

voice still working calling in the wilderness?
God has lost sheep in wilderness are shepherds
who risk desert snares to save lost sheep angels rejoice
not all are called to church security blessed also are other ministries.

poem by Terence George Craddock
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Jewel In The Savannah

Out of the mouth of the lion,
That which was spoken;
Out of the mouth of the tiger,
That which was written;
A lover of hospitality to write a muse.

A flame of fire! !
That which was read;
The King must surely dance naked.
All out of one,
One out of many,
The Queen must also dance naked.

Forty years in the wilderness,
I've been too long in the bush;
The Prince must dance naked.

Oil of gladness,
Hope of dreams;
Pay attention to yourself.
Of milk for babies,
Of meat for adults,
A voice spoke to her;
Hope of dreams,
Oil of gladness,
She got the name;
You are the jewel in the savannah.

Forty years in the wilderness,
Watch the mouth of the lion;
The Princess must also dance naked.
Like the Lion and the Tiger,
Like the King and the Queen,
Like the Prince and the Princess,
The jewel in the savannah is what you are.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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A Full Stop.

I’ve lost a full stop,
And I need it for the end
I’ve lost a full stop,
It’s driving me round the bend
I’ve lost a full stop,
I wonder where it can be?
I’ve lost a full stop,
If you see it, please tell me
I’ve lost a full stop,
I better keep on looking
I’ve lost a full stop,
The banks books have been cooking
I’ve lost a full stop,
I can’t find it anywhere
I’ve lost a full stop,
Oh there it is, over there
I lost a full stop,
Now I have found it again
I lost a full stop,
It’s here now, right at the end.

poem by Gordon David
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I Am Told

For forty four years now

Each morning I woke up

I go straight to prepare

A cup of coffee for my wife

It's a ritual that I do

For forty four years

Not that she asks for it
But it's what I love to do

Love is what commands me

To lit a kettle to boil a water

For she likes it when its so hot

A coffee she drinks quite early

Suddenly, now that it's our anniversary

I do the thing I 've been doing ever since

We got married for forty four years back

Yet for the first time I am told just so today

That the coffee I served her now tasted bad

poem by Marvin Brato Sr
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Hilda

I know a woman she is forty three
And she still search for an identity
I'm still a stranger to myself she say
And in the maze of life I've lost my way.

Retrenched from her job earlier this year
She does not know where she is going from here
She now live on welfare a quarter of her wage
And her barrier to employment is her age.

With job seekers half of her age she must compete
And she feels that by time she has been beat
At forty three on the wrong side of time
And employers see her as well beyond her prime.

She was a young woman twenty years ago
And Hilda herself still doesn't seem to know
Where her life's going to, she feels a lost soul
And a bleak looking future on the dole.

I know a woman she is unemployed
And out of work to her means loss of pride
And though on her birthday she was forty three
She still searches for an identity.

poem by Francis Duggan
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Forty Years

(on the 10th anniversary of the end of world war ii)
Here in berlin - people line up to get in
To wait for the end - living in glorious sin
Theyve looked around - and now there is no looking back
To when rivers ran red - now its the sky that grows black
Shadows are cast as two giants roam over the earth
We light a match - but what is that little flame worth
Once allies danced and sang
But it was forty years ago
Here in d.c. - they talk about euro-disease
And how the french are always so damn hard to please
Otions are passed in brussels but no one agrees
And no one walks tall - but no-one gets down on their knees
Once allies laughed and drank
But it was forty years ago
Where I come from
They dont like americans much
They think theyre so loud, so tasteless, and so out of touch
Stiff upper lips are curled into permanent sneers
Self-satisfied
Awaiting the next forty years
Once allies cried and cheered
But it was forty years ago

song performed by by Joe Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My parents only had one argument in forty-five years. It lasted forty-three years.

quote by Cathy Ladman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I've said it once and I'll say it a a hundred times, I'm forty-four years old.

quote by Satchel Paige
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Today You Guys Are Just Going To Have To Wait

At times I feel,
I provoke the ghosts...
Of my ancestors.
Especially when I know,
I am not at my best!
And rest I'd rather get.
Than to impress with those gifts,
From which I did get,
As a result of my ancestors blood and sweat.

Never did I wish,
To sit...
In the taking for granted,
Of those I represent and miss.

But I do admit,
A feeling I provoke...
The wishes of my ancestors.
Those ghosts within me that make visits.
Awaiting impatiently to do...
Not what I want.
But what they insist!

'Today you guys are just going to have to wait,
And sit.
I am tired.
I need rest.
And rest I am going to get! '

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Poem for Molly's Fortieth Birthday

'Why do you
have stripes
in your forehead,
Mama?
Are you
old?'

Not old.
But not so
young
that I cannot
see
the world contracting
upon itself
& the circle
closing
at the end.

As the furrows
in my brow
deepen,
I can see
myself
sinking back
into that childhood
street
I walked along
with my grandfather,
thinking he was old
at sixty-three
since I was four,
as you are four
to my forty.

Forty years
to take
the road out . . .
Will another forty
take me
back?

Back to the street
I grew up on,
back to
my mother's breast.
back to the second
world war
of a second
child,
back
to the cradle
endlessly
rocking?

I am young
as you are
Molly-
yet with stripes
in my brow;
I earn my youth
as you must earn
your age.

These stripes
are decorations
for my valor-
forty years
of marching
to a war
I could not declare,
nor locate,
yet have somehow
won.

Now,
I begin
to unwin,
unravelling
the sleeves
of care
that have
stitched up
this brow,
unravelling
the threads
that have kept
me scared,
as I pranced
over the world,
seemingly fearless,
working
without a net,
knowing
if I fell
it would
only be
into that same
childhood street,
where I dreaded
to tread
on the lines-
not knowing
the lines
would someday
tread
on me.

Molly,
when you are forty,
read this poem
& tell me:
have we won
or lost
the war?

poem by Erica Jong
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Navigate

I’m not lost, no
directions and maps;
I got it right here

I’m not lost, no
I know quite well
where I’m headed

I’m not lost, no
money and fake friends
they’re not my loss

I’m not lost, no
whatever is within these hands
are all I need

I’m not lost, no
just waiting
for you to navigate

poem by Janine Alyssa Navarro
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She was in the profession

She stopped her work at her lawn when she saw me
and leaned over the fence and we talked for over two hours
with my elbow on her posts and my feet resting
against the palings.

She had worked forty years in the same profession
and had seen generations through the doors. She
had enjoyed her work and people still call her to
tell her about themselves; they express their gratitude
and how much of a difference she had made.

She walked down the fence, waved her arms
and returned to the corner where I stood.

But what was work for?
she asked.
Forty years doing what was good for others
but nothing that was good for myself.
What was work for? she sighed.
What were forty years for? It destroyed me.

(from The Migrant - notes of a newcomer (February 1997- July 1998))

poem by Raj Arumugam
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I’ll Change My Name

I give you thanks all my people
Congratulations,
For helping change my name
Which initials would not be known to our ancestors.
I’ll change my mother tongue and modify my Alma-matter
I’ll change my voice so you would no longer recognize my songs
I’ll cut all the favorable crops in the farm and plant in it new ones
Just like the frog, I’ll bathe in waters
In order to differ from the toad.
All because I’ll change my name
Which initials would not be known to our ancestors.

I write this to you all my people
That ignorance deserted me from my own land
And I’ll come back no more
I gave it in worlds that you could understand
In parables I left it with others that they would also understand
And tell the ancestors that
I’ll change my name which initials would not be known to them

Tell me if the ancestors are still alive,
Lying there and see you helped me change my name
Tell me if they have lost their eyes and years
That they can’t see and hear
If so, then my people, you those
Whose fire woods have reached your head load
Go and tell them, I say
I’ll change my name which initials would not be known to them.

Once men could now see and hear
That I’ll change my name;
Today that I’m felt with the muse of poetry
In my shabby cloths
I gave it out in words and parables
That you helped me change my name.

Thanks,
Thank you all my people
Congratulations,
Tell them and more handsome rewards from heavens
If not too far from you
Just because you helped me change my name
Which initials would not be known to our ancestors
But still, I’ll change my name.

copyright (c) Sep.2006 E. Korsi Senyo Kumedzina

poem by Korsi Senyo
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Edu-mac-cation

‘EDU-MAC-CATION’

I am going back to school to finish my education
Something, I should have done forty years ago
Will I succeed this time around?
Oh dear, I very much hope so

I have tried several times before
Somehow, I always failed
Couldn’t concentrate, hadn’t the patience
Think it’s time I got it nailed

GCSE’s in Maths and English
I have to follow those paths
Not so bad at English
Bloody useless at Maths

That was when I was in school
All of forty years ago
I was jack the lad back then
Now I really want to know

I know it has been coined before
Now, I believe it to be the truth
What some clever person said
Education is wasted on the youth

MICMAC

poem by Michael Micmac Mccrory
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Hopeless Bleak Despair

I never knew what everybody meant by endless, hopeless bleak despair
Until one day when I found out
The first time I ever left my house
It saw me and followed me home
And stayed with me for my whole life
For years and years I wandered the earth
Condemned to a life of bleak despair
Then one day I looked around and found
It had disappeared
All this bleak despair
It was always there
And then one day it disappeared
In a puff of smoke
In an unceremonious way
One day it disappeared
All I had ever wanted in my life was only to be free of it
It drove away my family
It made me lose my job
Whenever anybody saw it
Theyd say get out of here
For years and years I wandered the earth
Sick of my life, looking forward to death
The one day I looked around and found
It had disappeared
All this bleak despair
It was always there
And then one day it disappeared
In a puff of smoke
In an unceremonious way
One day it disappeared
For years and years I wandered the earth
Until I died and went to hell but my
Despair had ascended to heaven
Thats how I finally got rid of it

song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Jesus was not denying the legitimacy of biblical law. On the contrary, He was affirming biblical law. We love God first; God commands us to keep His word; therefore, we must enforce the law on ourselves.

quote by Gary North
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Two Different Directions

This song appears on three albums, and was first released on the different directions album, and has also been released on the a portrait and the john denver collection - annies song albums.
They say they love each other
Ive no doubt they do
They say theyll always be together
That may not be true
They come from different places
Different points of view
They find themselves in different spaces
Everything is all brand new
Two different directions
Too many different ways
One always on the road somewhere
The other one always stays
Too often unhappy
Too often on your own
When you are moving in different directions
True love is all alone
Old stories start to surface
Patterns from long ago
And loving quickly turns to anger
For reasons they dont even know
The strongest heart can be broken
With one insensitive word
The deepest feelings remain unspoken
No one is seen and nothing heard
Two different directions
Too many different ways
One always wants to work things out
The other one wants to play
To ready for changes
To much that just cant wait
When you are moving in different directions
True love can turn to hate
If opposites attract each other
Whats the reason for
One being like an open window
One just like a closing door
Two different directions
Two many different ways
One likes to see the morning sunrise
The other one sleeps in late
To many tomorrows
To many times too late
When you are moving in different directions
True love may have to wait
If you are committed to different directions
True love will have to wait
Words and music by john denver

song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Wilderness Ministry

John the Baptist
was a voice crying
in the wilderness

preparing a way
for coming Jesus Christ
power of Holy Spirit

are there now
no voices crying
in the wilderness?

Is there now
no need for a ministry
like most righteous John?

God will use hands
offered even unclean hands
God will make clean.

Lost souls in wilderness
God will send nomadic shepherds
reclaiming preparing a way

angels are separating lost
sheep from among herd goats
Jesus Christ Holy Spirit

are still seeking
lost sheep bleating longing
to be rescued saved.

poem by Terence George Craddock
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One Hundred

To all those who have read my poems,
this poem is just for you.
This is my hundredth poem this year
and I feel like celebrating too.
You see for years and years,
I did not want to write anymore,
until I came along here and met all of you.
For some reason I cannot explain,
you took me under your poetic wing.
You made me want to write again,
with your comments by the score.
You brought life back to me,
took my hand,
and guided me from the wilderness,
from which I ran.
You gave me injection,
and my confidence once more flowed.
My pen was put to paper again,
and out the poems came,
one after the other,
but never one the same.
I took a little time out to write a novel too.
All this and more is all thanks to you.
Without that hand of friendship,
which you’ve all shown to me,
I’d still be wandering like a lost soul,
in that wilderness out there.
Therefore, I am taking this opportunity
with this my hundredth poem this year,
to send you a special thanks,
from the bottom of my heart,
to each and every one of you out there.

poem by David Harris
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