Until the building of Solomon's temple the unity of worship according to it had, properly speaking, never had any existence; and, moreover, it is easy to read between the lines that even after that date it was more a pious wish than a practical demand.
quote by Julius Wellhausen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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From the building of the temple of Solomon, which is also treated as a leading epoch in chronology, a new period in the history of worship is accordingly dated, - and to a certain extent with justice.
quote by Julius Wellhausen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Read Between The Lines
Uh hu
You got to read between the lines
You got to read between the lines
You got to read between the lines
Ah ah ah ah
Late afternoon
Its the sun going down
A call on the cell
Why is he in such a hurry
Leaving the room
Hes mumbling too
Now look what hes doing
Hes leaving out the room
No explanation
No ask for location
Just watching him pacing
Wonder who hes chasing
Looks like versation
The end of debation
Hed love to go swing and
(chorus)
You better open your mind
And read between the lines
Got to read between the lines
Got to read between the lines
Got to read between the lines
Hot in the morning
Im up waiting for breakfast
Know your getting restless
This fool is full of questions
Little replying
Whole lot of denying
Instead I feel life in
So why do you keep on trying
Touch for the median
Now hes a comedian
Thats all the more reason
Its changing like the season
Are you still pleasing
How soon youll be leaving
Which one hell be creeping
(chorus)
(bridge)
Your replies are getting old
Its in his eyes
Youve got to read between the lines
Your replies again told
Look in his eyes
Youve got to read between the lines
Your replies are getting old
Its in his eyes
Youve got to read between the lines
Your replies again told
Look in his eyes
Youve got to read between the lines
Dont really think your pulling one over me
Cause i
I know whats going on
Dont hope you wont be planning on running me
Cause ah cause ah
Ill be gone
Dont really think your pulling one over me
Cause i
I know whats going on
Dont hope you wont be planning on runing me
Cause ah cause ah
Ill be gone
Cause youre thinking
Your ___ aint mistaken
My temperatures peaking
Now why is you barely speaking
Busting his bubble
And he knows hes in trouble
Hes talking in doubles
I listen to him hardly believing
Changing the story
And trying to ignore me
Still reaching out for me
Still aint no point in reaching
Give me a reason
To put you back on the line
You wasted enough time
I had to open my mind
And read between the lines
Got to read between the lines
Got to read between the lines
Got to read between the lines
(bridge repete 2xs)
song performed by by Aaliyah
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Today... 'The Child Jesus
Led by the Spirit His parents had brought
The Child Jesus into the Temple court
The Temples' to the temple had come
To keep the law and the required custom
The glory of the Lord was there that day
In that building composed of earthly clay
Greater glory than in Solomon's reign
God into His temple had come again
Few expected Him to come in this way
‘Twas not at the request of men that pray
But to fulfil the law and pay the price
A pair of turtle doves as sacrifice
Simeon and Hannah were present there
And in prophecy began to declare
That Child in their arms was the Holy one
Born of God, His only Belovéd Son
As this great moment began to unfold
The world passed by too busy to behold
For this Child Jesus was to change the way
In which man has to come to God today
The veil of the temple was torn in two
It's now possible for man to pass through
That Child in the temple became a man
And died on the cross to fulfil God's plan
(see also the additional information in the Poet's notes box below)
Worship Erected Temples Cathedrals Mosques
in worship we aspire to please God
in offerings we aspire to please God
in buildings we aspire to please God
in sanctified creation songs sculptures
paintings plays poetry we aspire desires
felt dedicated to God by faithful devotes
worship erected temples cathedrals mosques
history abounds in massive building faith
building faith erected to honour God
transition in building worship utilization
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Today... 'The Consolation of Israel
It was a busy world at Your nativity
People were too busy to even stop and see
As into the temple Your family had come
In obedience to the law and Jewish custom
The glory of the Lord was present there that day
In that building composed of earthly stone and clay
The same glory that appeared in Solomon's reign
Was present as God entered His temple again
Simeon and Anna were also present there
And in prophecy they both began to declare
That Child in their arms was the promised Holy one
Born of God, His One and Only Belovéd Son
In wonder Simeon in his arms held his Lord
And began speaking out loud God's prophetic word
And Anna also join in with him to proclaim
These things happened when to His temple Jesus came
The Holy Spirit entered Simeon that day
Causing him to cry out with prophecy and say
'Behold the Consolation of Israel' he cried
He'd been told he would see Jesus before he died
This Consolation of Israel was to be seen
Just as the prophets of old said it would have been
But just Simeon and Anna saw the real glory
Of this momentous occasion in history
(see also the additional information in the Poet's notes box below)
Poetic Co -existence
when i write
there you are, you read
and i do not demand much
if you comment
when you write
i read yours too, and you do not demand much
if i copy your lines
and put them inside my heart
for that is the only
towards a symbiosis
of our mutual poetics
like cigar to my lips
like strawberry candy to my tongue
like rib from my side
like bed to my body
like mouth to my finger
like thighs to my
strong hands
like firewood to my
forest nights
like tent to my rain
like moon to my
winter roof.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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He's Building A Taj Mahal
A deified temple of love
No matter what she says
No matter what she does
He doesn't give up
He won't give up
He's building a Taj Mahal
A deified temple of love
For a shy shadow bodiless her
Each day one more brick
She says cease from your labour
I'm not a stone
I'm not a tower
I'm not a temple
No matter what she says
No matter what she does
He keeps on building
Building a Taj Mahal
The day he's gone
The temple will vanish
A bubble burst temple of love
The day she's gone
The tower will disappear
A bubble burst temple of love
Drawn in earthly notes
Everything's written on a wind
Bubble burst blown away
A shadow for a shadow
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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If You Read These Lines This Morning
if you read these lines this morning
these lines that miss you
these lines that say i love you
these lines that are dying to touch you
to hug and kiss you
these lines that know every inch of you
if you read these lines well enough
then you know who i am
i, who is nothing to you.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Who You Are To Me
if you read these lines this morning
these lines that miss you
these lines that say i love you
these lines are dying to touch you
to hug and kiss you
these lines that know every inch of you
if you read these lines well enough
then you know who i am
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Statistically Speaking
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
Statistically speaking.
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
Statistically speaking.
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
Statistically speaking.
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
Statistically speaking.
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
From the viewpoint of a human being...
I detect us humans,
Are the least important things,
On this Earth.
And the water, grass and trees...
Are the 'real' things,
Mother Nature wishes more to treat!
I perceive our existence here,
Is not so high on the list.
Since we are an experiment.
Even though we choose to think of ourselves,
As the center of the universe.
And here to live in a permanence!
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
Statistically speaking.
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
Statistically speaking.
We leech and feed,
Off what nature offers.
We know nothing but conflict!
And this chaos we foster.
There are laws created to discriminate.
Yet we discuss things loved...
And show how much we despise and hate.
We infiltrate and pillage,
Lands where others live.
We take without thought.
Causing blood to shed.
And worship heartache.
As we lay alone sleepless in our beds!
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
With faith we fake brotherhood!
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
Believing prayer delivers escape!
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
And cry like spoiled children!
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
With no guilt of remorse to eliminate...
The taste of life,
Made of just frosted cake!
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
Statistically speaking.
We treat ourselves and others like sheep!
To fleece the wool.
Because we're full of bull!
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
Statistically speaking.
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
Statistically speaking.
We take without thought.
Causing blood to shed.
And worship heartache.
As we lay alone,
Sleepless in our beds!
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
Yes!
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
Yes!
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
Yes!
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
Statistically speaking.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Can Read Between The Lines
Roy orbison/joe melson
Girl I got your letter telling me youre coming home tonight
The lines were sweet and tender signed with all your love
Pretty words to make me feel alright
Then I read it over I got the feeling youre not completely mine
I held it to my chest, where you always rest
And I cried cos I can read between the lines
Between the lines I see youre making believe
But I cant help it, I still want you
Between the lines its plain youre playing that old game
But I still love you, and I cant change
Baby Ill be waiting at the downtown station right on time
Reaching out to hold you, the way I always do
Ill pretend that you are only mine
And while Im loving you I cant read between the lines
While Im loving you I cant read between the lines
Transcribed by the teenking
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The City of David
God sits up in Heaven and laughs as the nations imagine a vain thing,
For the internationalism of Jerusalem, is the song they seem to sing.
And it is far from an original song that all the nations are singing,
For God made Jerusalem the center of this world before their being.
For God Himself purged the land of Canaan to be the land of the Jew,
And He told Moses to prepare to worship at a place I will show you.
But Moses never crossed the Jordan and was buried by God's own Hand,
And Joshua took over to lead the Israelites into The Promised Land.
And from the time of Moses through the Judges wherever the Jews went,
The Ark of God's Covenant and the Glory of God remained under a tent.
It was not until God gave Israel rest under King David their leader,
That in the City God chose, he desired to make God a house of cedar.
The City that God chose was Jerusalem, on which He placed His Name,
For it is The City of David, and on it God's Name will always remain.
God remembered His Promise to David, and his desire was not ignored,
For God had told David's son Solomon to build a temple for The Lord.
Then God consecrated this temple by putting His Name on it forever,
And this promise to Solomon by God, He can not and He will not sever.
So even though things look quite gloomy in Jerusalem today my friend,
Zechariah says The Lord will inherit Judah to choose Jerusalem again.
(Copyright © 06/2002)
To A Friend On The Other Side Of The Earth...
you write and i listen to each word.
you are faraway. You speak in repetitive lines.
there are standards of art.
a poem must be so and so. so does a short story.
unity of plot, choice of words,
fixing the mood and
fortifying the contextual feel.
you are mumbling poetry in winter
inside a train that travels on a speed greater than light.
tomorrow it will be at ten in the morning
when the bullet arrives at its destination
you write.... breathtaking views, flashes of memories.
i listen to a chant. i chant myself.
speaking to speaking speaking.
we are all alone. yet we cope up without any
help from them, damn carpets and
dripping roofs.
whether what you write is poetry or prose
it is not important anymore.
you are a poem that i care for.
i do not know you but there is a shadow
it is enough for me.
damn biters. damn arrivals.
i do the same. Sit back and write.
senselessly. desperately seeking what we still do not know.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Kebra Nagast – Ark of the Covenant
A new Mystery for Me:
The Ethiopian Queen known as Queen Makeda
came to visit King Solomon of Israel
we read in Chapter 25 of the ancient
Ethiopian Epic Kebra Nagast
King Solomon sent her home
with the gift of half his kingdom
carried through the night
as swift as an eagle in his flight
On Solomon’s secret Flying Machine
afterwards she gave birth to his son
known as King Menelik
who returned to King Solomon
In his Flying Aircraft
to carry off the Ark of the
Covenant to its final
resting place
The town of Axun that had been
founded by Noah’s grandson
so history came
full circle
And I can breathe again:
The Mystery is still
unsolved!
poem by Margaret Alice
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Today... 'The Cornerstone
Rejected of men for being too good
we crucified you on a cross of wood
But Your Father had other plans for You
for the temple was to be built anew
A building not made of rock or of stone
but one made up of Christians alone
Built of people saved by the grace of God
the Cornerstone is Jesus Christ the Lord
A great temple not built by human skill
but made up of those who follow God's will
The living temple of Your body Lord
because its' builder and maker is God
To build it the old temple had to go
through death so that You could raise it up so.
This is marvellous in our sight O Lord
One in Christ we are the temple of God.
(see also the additional information in the Poet's notes box below)
Faces
I cant read faces but i can read yours;
I know it when youre sad or happy,
not through your smile but through your eyes;
and the lines of your forehead,
and the lines of your cheeks...
they tell your secrets and then mystery unfolds.
The beauty of your chin...and the lines of your lips,
they tell me of something that hasn't been told.
Sometimes you laugh, but you're empty inside...
sometimes you frown, but your heart glowed with pride.
Sometimes serious, but your face
has something to hide.
I know coz your eyes tell me everything,
everything within your soul.
You have so many faces...
and i wonder if the world knows.
I wonder if they can read them,
or see what you conceal..
I wonder if they can see your mysteries...
secrets to steal.
And i wonder if they can look into
your eyes like open doors.
I know i cant read faces...
but i can read yours.
poem by Jessel Jane Tevar
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Hunger Hunger To Worship
hunger hunger building up in heart
hunger hunger mounting building up in soul
hunger need hunger grows grows needs to be sated
hunger need hunger need to worship to worship God
hunger ache pain growing need to rush run to God
to rush back to God’s arms as we met in gift creativity
our souls are out back out upon swift flowing healing water
we are together carried over all all lighter darker ink water
we are together giving always giving love throughout time
hunger hunger to love worship universe creator our God
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Historic Myths
The place is overwhelmed,
With a fragmentation.
And for a united nation to declare unity,
Many believe it should be seen.
And lifted from a documentation.
But those guided by policy and division,
See unity as a disadvantage.
Since some mentalities,
Prefer to keep historic myths...
Worshipped and not dissected,
To detect an embellished existence!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Confession
Her heart an open book
Easy to read
Emotions bald for all to observe
A confession to the one
Who denied her soul
As she read his text
Weigh heavy on chest
Squeezing the life from her faint heart
He could not read between the lines
How sincere her words
Until it was too late
Reading the diaries of a broken heart
poem by Persian Khushi
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My companion
I don't know where I'll be,
when who ever buys my book to read.
I was just writing the date on my new
notebook, and these thoughts came to my mind.
Sometimes when I'm going over some
writing I see the date on the paper,
and it brings me memories of
how I felt at the time when I
wrote those poems,
Those notes, they have the flavor
of me. My intimate thoughts my most
saddest and happiest moments of
my existence.
My poems my notes my
stories and my hands, they are one.
One memory in all together.
The way my hands clinch my
writing my every move of prose.
I don't know who
Will want to read the writing coming
from a stranger a none-known poet.
From lonesome I, no one
knows who she is.
I cherish every letter,
word and phrase my hands have writting.
Because all of this has been to me a wonderful
companion of my lonesome life of appetence to feed.
Copyright©ElenaToledo2011
poem by Elenushka Toledo
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