Jeremiah has to lament that there are as many altars as towns in Judah.
quote by Julius Wellhausen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Prophesy Of Jeremiah
Jerusalem, Jerusalem, glad I have been,
for in my lone wanderings Thine
aged walls with these eyes I have seen.
I have stood upon the Mt of Olives,
from its height, looked down upon,
the Holy City, city of Almighty God.
Behold the remnant of Israel gathered.
For God said “Here I am bringing them
from the land of the north, and I will
collect them together from the remotest
parts of the earth.” Prophesy of Jeremiah
fulfilled, when the prophet wrote this book; Jeremiah 31: 8.
in Judah and Egypt between 647-580 B.C.E.
there were no Jews in Russia, the North; nor
scattered to the remotest parts of the earth.
God scattered them, God gathered them!
For it is written. “Hear the word of Jehovah,
O YOU nations, and tell [it] among the islands
far away, and say: “The One scattering Israel
will himself collect him together, and he will
certainly keep him as a shepherd does his drove.
For Jehovah will actually redeem Jacob
and reclaim him out of the hand of the one
stronger than he is.” And so it came to be! Jeremiah 31: 10-11.
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Those Who Betray And Lament
At THIS hour of the day.
And with time allowed,
Over the years to slip away.
Someone sits not to forget or forgive,
Those who intentionally took steps to offend,
With a doing of it they went ahead to inflict.
And at THIS hour of the day,
It would not matter who said what to have what's been done...
Wished away,
To acknowledge what took place.
Since what took place can not be erased,
From the mind of the one this misdeed continues to sit...
Long after it was considered someone's fun!
And at THIS hour of the day...
Wishing for a way to turn back the clock,
To prevent what should not have happened...
To have it stopped and blocked from a doing,
Is not on the mind of the one who is visited with memories...
At THIS hour of the day,
When one witnesses images from a distance...
A payback paid to those who betray and lament.
Those who betray and lament...
Grieve.
Those who betray and lament...
Can't sleep.
Those who betray and lament,
Become haunted.
Unwanted.
Those who betray and lament...
Grieve.
Those who betray and lament...
Can't sleep.
Those who betray and lament,
Become haunted.
Unwanted.
And have nobody near them to hear their pleas!
Those who betray and lament...
Grieve.
Those who betray and lament...
Can't sleep.
Those who betray and lament,
Become haunted.
Unwanted.
And have nobody near them to hear their pleas!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Lord's Scepter Shall Never Depart
God chose the man Abram to start his plan of reconciliation,
He believed and his descendents would be a mighty little nation.
When God first spoke to Abram, he told him to leave his relations,
Later changing his name to Abraham, as the father of many nations.
For through his seed God would bless all the nations of the earth,
Later Isaiah prophesied this seed would come through a virgin birth.
From the tribe of Judah the Lord's Scepter shall never depart,
True Words spoken by Isaac’s son Jacob, right from his heart.
This was Jacob's blessing to his son Judah at his departure,
Spoke for the Father of All Nations, Judah couldn't be any surer.
God began to fulfill His promise with one of Judah's very own,
For through King David He would establish an everlasting throne.
God used his son Solomon to build a temple in Jerusalem for The Lord.
Through Nathan, God told David that his Kingdom would forever endure.
Although the Kingdom grew great under Solomon, his heart turned away,
So God tore away the Kingdom, but for David's sake Judah He let stay.
It will be The Lion of Judah, who fulfills the promise of The Lord,
It is under Christ, The Son of David, that the land will be restored.
However, many countries will be left out of God's plan of Salvation,
For they have harbored hatred and despised this tiny little nation.
(Copyright © 04/2002)
Be Merciful, My God
(after Judah Ha-Levi)
Be merciful, my God, and I shall prosper.
Let not Your punishment sweep me down.
My life, my love, my existence depends on You.
You know every weakness,
You know even my greatest strength.
You are the one that is my constant companion,
who knows every thought, every word
even before I comprehend them.
Not only on Your companionship do I rely,
I draw my strength, my words and my life from You.
[Reference: 'Heal me, my God' by Judah Ha-Levi.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Wild Gazelle
I
The wild Gazelle on Judah's hills
Exulting yet may bound,
And drink from all the living rills
That gush on holy ground—
Its airy step and glorious eye
May glance in tameless transport by—
II
A step as fleet, an eye more bright,
Hath Judah witness'd there;
And o'er her scenes of lost delight
Inhabitants more fair,
The cedars wave on Lebanon,
But Judah's statelier maids are gone!
III
More blest each palm that shades those plains
Than Israel's scattered race;
For taking root it there remains
In solitary grace;
It cannot quit the place of birth,
It will not live in other earth.
IV
But we must wander witheringly,
In other lands to die—
And where our fathers' ashes be,
Our own may never lie.
Our temple hath not left a stone.
And Mockery sits on Salem's throne.
poem by Byron from The Hebrew Melodies (1815)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Train Window
Small towns
Crawling out of their green shirts…
Tubercular towns
Coughing a little in the dawn…
And the church…
There is always a church
With its natty spire
And the vestibule—
That's where they whisper:
Tzz-tzz… tzz-tzz… tzz-tzz…
How many codes for a wireless whisper—
And corn flatter than it should be
And those chits of leaves
Gadding with every wind?
Small towns
From Connecticut to Maine:
Tzz-tzz… tzz-tzz…tzz-tzz…
poem by Lola Ridge
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I Refuse to Lament
I have things to lament.
You have things to lament.
I refuse to lament.
But, you stay glued to sentiments,
With contented reasons meant.
I have things to lament.
You have things to lament.
I refuse to lament.
But, you stay glued to sentiments,
With contented reasons meant.
Growing old,
You lament.
As if you're sold,
To lament.
Inviting mold,
To convince to start a pointless argument.
Growing old,
You lament.
As if you're sold,
To lament.
Inviting mold,
To convince to start a pointless argument.
I have things to lament.
You have things to lament.
I refuse to lament.
But, you stay glued to sentiments,
With contented reasons meant.
Growing old,
You lament.
As if you're sold,
To lament.
Inviting mold,
To convince to start a pointless argument.
I refuse to lament.
But, you stay glued to sentiments,
With contented reasons meant.
I have things to lament.
You have things to lament.
Why shoiuld we be here lamenting,
When lamenting makes no sense.
I have things to lament.
You have things to lament.
Why shoiuld we be here lamenting,
When lamenting makes no sense.
I have things to lament.
You have things to lament.
Why shoiuld we be here lamenting,
When lamenting makes no sense.
I refuse to lament.
I refuse to lament.
I refuse the consenting when to me it makes no sense.
I refuse to lament.
I refuse to lament.
I refuse the consenting when to me it makes no sense.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Jeremiah's Heart
There is so much going on in the world around us and in our heart,
That too often we forget that for a purpose we have been set apart.
That is to make an impact for Christ in the world, in which we live,
This can not be accomplished until our lives to Christ we fully give.
A heart that's fully devoted to The Lord that is evidenced in some,
Is accomplished not by one's efforts, but only through God's Wisdom.
The only way to gain the mind of God, to many may be truly loathsome,
Like ages past and today, the fear of God is the beginning of Wisdom.
The fear of God, unlike that of man, has nothing to do with violence,
For the fear of God in the Bible is a heart filled with reverence.
However, many who understand this Truth are filled with reluctance,
For the only way to gain this Godly fear is through true repentance.
Lack of true repentance in the Church today is why we lost our fire,
For many Believers have slipped off The Rock into the worldly mire.
But Jeremiah in a world like ours, surrounded by all kinds of sin,
Said The Word was a fire in his bones and was weary of holding it in.
We have much more than Jeremiah did, as the Scriptures are complete,
And Christ is at His Father's right hand as He rose to take His seat.
However, He's coming back again, this message the Church must impart,
To finish our job in the Church we need to reflect Jeremiah's heart.
(Copyright © 07/2002)
Lament
Lament is a hollow song
we sing to ourselves
about misgivings in our past.
A song of our wayward life
of when we were young.
Lament is the hurtful baggage
that we carry around
to torment us in silent times
when we sit alone.
We sing it to ourselves
hoping it could be undone.
Once a word is spoken,
it can never be withdrawn.
Once a hurt is caused,
no bandage can repair.
We can only lament on it later
in our silent moments
when we sit alone.
26 November 2009
poem by David Harris
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The Angst...
Lament
knows better
Joy dances with
Bliss but as soon
as Grief arrives
Joy cries and Lament
as usual sits down
reflects
writes and knows
the exit towards
Enlightenment.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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One of the cries from the people was, don't forget us. They have a long road ahead of them. Operation Blessing has found those little fishing towns. They will not be getting what other towns are getting from the government.
quote by Connie Sellecca
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Oh! weep for those
I
Oh! Weep for those that wept by Babel's stream,
Whose shrines are desolate, whose land a dream,
Weep for the harp of Judah's broken shell—
Mourn—where their God hath dwelt—the Godless dwell!
II
And where shall Israel lave her bleeding feet?
And when shall Zion's songs again seem sweet?
And Judah's melody once more rejoice
The hearts that leap'd before its heavenly voice?
III
Tribes of the wandering foot and weary breast,
How shall ye flee away and be at rest!
The wild-dove hath her nest—the fox his cave—
Mankind their Country—Israel but the grave!
poem by Byron from The Hebrew Melodies (1815)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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A Tool To Scream
Goodbye, They breathe but cannot scream
They have no tools to build voices
They wait in fetal position
Martyrs on altars of mistakes
The martyr
They have not the tools to scream
They are just the ones upon the altars of mistakes
There is no safe place
The marytr
song performed by by Zao
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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America is still the No. 1 killer in the world.
quote by Jeremiah Wright
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pibroch Dhu For Jim Hogg
The piper plays his sad lament
Alone upon the bleak hillside.
A bitter hymn of discontent
recalling those who bravely died.
A living breathing testament
to regimented homicide.
The piper plays his sad lament
alone upon the bleak hillside.
This world is not as it was meant
The ten commandments are defied
as warfare rages far and wide.
As in the past and the present.
The piper plays his sad lament.
poem by Ivor .e Hogg
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Lament of a Wash-basin
LAMENT OF A WASH-BASIN
Very sorry my friends,
If by my lament,
Your tender hearts, I hurt,
When thus out I blurt.
But no other way have I,
To gain your sympathy o'er my cry,
Than in black and white to mention
And draw your kind attention.
All of you I beseech,
To yonder bin to reach
And, my dears-there to empty
Your tiffin-boxes, of left-overs sundry.
Of my gurgling throat, I'm sure,
It'll no more be wrote to cure,
For, I hope, you'll ne'er again so choke
And then, with a rod try to poke!
Thank you so much, my dears,
For so patiently lending your ears,
To the lament of a poor sink,
In this emanating stink!
poem by Chandra Thiagarajan
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You lament not the dead, but lament the trouble of making a grave; the way of the ghost is longer than the grave.
The Best Way To Avoid Publicity
The best way to avoid publicity in small towns,
Especially...
Where there are those who are quick to peek and probe.
Is to pretend to seek it!
That's right.
People living in small towns love to believe,
There are those living amongst them...
Who seek attention.
And there are very few people I know,
Who advocate the advertising for peace of mind.
People living in small towns,
Frown down upon others...
Just on general principle anyway.
Anything that does not conform to limitation,
Is ignored and left alone.
That's why many celebrities and other notables,
Choose these places to live to be shunned and go unnoticed.
And this feeling has a mutual understanding that is respected.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Bright Lights
The bright lights are calling me
The bright lights are calling me
When the world is dark and cold
And Im heading down the road
The bright lights are calling me
As the world is round, the road is long
Ive trouble on my mind
Ill just keep on moving
Until the day comes round
The wind a blowing on my back
And my feet a flying
Flying down the road
Where the bright lights shine
Mondays in a pigtown
Tuesdays in a truck
Wednesdays a field of mud
And thursdays out of luck
Fridays rain clouds
Saturday flies by
Sunday comes shining
From a blue blue sky
The bright lights are calling me
The bright lights are calling me
When the world is dark and cold
And Im heading down the road
The bright lights are calling me
Some towns are golden
Some towns are stained
Some towns are shadows
Fading in the rain
Some towns are rust
And some towns they gleam
Some towns are mad dogs
Some towns are a dream
The bright lights are calling me
The bright lights are calling me
When the world is dark and cold
And Im heading down the road
The bright lights are calling me
Some dreams are hollow
Some dreams are cold
Some dreams are crazy
And some dreams are bold
Some dreams are bought
And other dreams are sold
Some dreams lie waiting
At the end of the road
The bright lights are calling me
The bright lights are calling me
When the world is dark and cold
And Im heading down the road
The bright lights are calling me
song performed by by Pogues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The True-Blue American
Jeremiah Dickson was a true-blue American,
For he was a little boy who understood America, for he felt that he must
Think about everything; because that’s all there is to think about,
Knowing immediately the intimacy of truth and comedy,
Knowing intuitively how a sense of humor was a necessity
For one and for all who live in America. Thus, natively, and
Naturally when on an April Sunday in an ice cream parlor Jeremiah
Was requested to choose between a chocolate sundae and a banana split
He answered unhesitatingly, having no need to think of it
Being a true-blue American, determined to continue as he began:
Rejecting the either-or of Kierkegaard, and many another European;
Refusing to accept alternatives, refusing to believe the choice of between;
Rejecting selection; denying dilemma; electing absolute affirmation: knowing
in his breast
The infinite and the gold
Of the endless frontier, the deathless West.
“Both: I will have them both!” declared this true-blue American
In Cambridge, Massachusetts, on an April Sunday, instructed
By the great department stores, by the Five-and-Ten,
Taught by Christmas, by the circus, by the vulgarity and grandeur of
Niagara Falls and the Grand Canyon,
Tutored by the grandeur, vulgarity, and infinite appetite gratified and
Shining in the darkness, of the light
On Saturdays at the double bills of the moon pictures,
The consummation of the advertisements of the imagination of the light
Which is as it was—the infinite belief in infinite hope—of Columbus,
Barnum, Edison, and Jeremiah Dickson.
poem by Delmore Schwartz
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