If they had a social gospel in the days of the prodigal son, somebody would have given him a bed and a sandwich and he never would have gone home.
quote by Vance Havner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Prodigal Blues
Riding my life
Like a run-a-way train
Moving from
One track to that
Howling, crying,
Screaming at the moon
Only my voice came back
Only the echo came back
When I was a boy
Daddy told me
Grow tall
Yes and billy dont crawl
Taught me how to ride
Set me out on my own
And I never came back
And yes Id do it again
Oh wouldnt you
Yeah Id do it again
A-huh oh yeah
Do it again
Baby
Wouldnt you?
Remember
When I lied
Just when you
Needed me
Now I sit
Alone and cry
Cos now I believe in mercy
Remember when I lied
Just when you needed me baby
I believe in mercy
Riding, walking
Looking so cool
Guess I crossed
Over the borderline
Treated like a dunce
Who just cant read
Did I fool me too?
And yes Id do it again
Oh wouldnt you
Yes Id do it again
Aha yeah Id do it again
Baby
Wouldnt you
Remember
When I lied
Just when you
Needed me
Now I sit
Alone and cry
Cos now I believe in mercy
Remember when I lied
Now that you
Needed me
Yes I believe in mercy
I said come here
Look into my face
And hear into my heart
Hesitation
Could re-arrange
The other side
To your love
Take hold now baby
And take
What other
Lovers have not
Times is changing
Will they re-arrange
The other side to your love
No-woah woah woah
Yeah
Wooooo
(come home
Here he is impatient one
Come home
Come home
Tell the story)
Come home
Here he is
The impatient one
Come home
To claim a glory
Prodigal son
Come home
Prodigal bum
Come home
Prodigal son
Prodigal son
Come home
To claim a glory
Prodigal son
Come home
Prodigal son
Come home
Prodigal bum
Here he comes
Yeah that prodigal son
Ooooh
Hes the one
To tell his story
Cmon to tell his story
Tell his story
To claim his glory
song performed by by Billy Idol
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Writing In A Way
writing in a way is like
taking a spoon of mayonnaise
and you brush it on one side
of a sandwich
and you take another
clean sandwich and you
join them together
into one edible sandwich
to fill your empty stomach
and then you
regret having done such
a meaningless routine
when you could have
talked instead to a friend
waiting for you at the
porch of your house
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Abandoning God’s Gospel
Today many gospels may go around, but, many are just not sound,
Many men preach a gospelly goop, with little Truth in religious soup,
As there’s no meat in their broth, for men who feed from that trough,
Those pulpits of the broader way, as they lead men spiritually astray.
They say in God, that they believe, but, His Truth, they don’t receive,
While they recognize philosophy, and man’s watered down theology,
As they don’t teach from God’s Word, although, His Truth is inferred,
But, only for the appearance of good, as His Truth is misunderstood.
Their gospel is for a social cause, as they put God’s Word on pause,
As they reach to man’s social need, Eternal Truths, they do not heed,
And the real Gospel is ultimately lost, as they avoid the bloody cross,
While avoiding the very reason why, upon that cross Christ had to die.
In their gospel there is no trace, of every man’s need for God’s Grace,
As their gospel ignores sin and Hell, omitting God’s Truth they will tell,
All their listeners, they go to Heaven, which is purely, religious leaven,
And their pews may be very full, but, what’s missing is God’s Gospel.
Many of these men may even muse, about Truth, we call Good News,
But, they need the bad news first, if they’re to have any spiritual thirst,
That being all men deserve to perish, apart from The Lord, we cherish,
And that all only find Eternal Life, in our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.
(Copyright ©08/2010)
Gospel Changes
The Prodigal Son, he'd been away a while
he was working his way back home now
over many a ragged mile
When he finally crossed the river
and his father saw him near
there was a joyful sound, for all the world to hear
I listened to what the Good Book said
and it made good sense to me
talkin' about reapin' what you're sowin'
people trying to be free.
Now we've got new names and faces, this time around
Gospel changes, Lord, Still goin' down.
Jesus, He did not doubt His gifts
though He knew that He had not long to live
He took care of the bus'ness
of teaching us how to fly
then He bowed His head and laid down to die
I listened to what the Good Book said
and it made good sense to me
talkin' about reapin' what you're sowin'
people trying to be free.
Now we've got new names and faces, this time around
Gospel changes, Lord, Still goin' down.
Jerusalem I see you standing high
but if you lose your salvation
there'll be no tears left to cry
Now some men worship a Golden Calf
while others are bought and sold
and if we live like that brother we pay the toll
I listened to what the Good Book said
and it made good sense to me
talkin' about reapin' what you're sowin'
people trying to be free.
Now we've got new names and faces, this time around
Gospel changes, Lord, Still goin' down.
Gospel changes, Lord, Still goin' down,
Still Goin' Down
Gospel changes, Lord, Still goin' down.
song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poke Chop Sandwich
(about lightnin hopkins drummer who used to keep a porkchop sandwich on his floor tom, for snacking during the breaks. recorded with hopkins drummer, spider, present in the studio.)
Poke
Better watch that
Poke chop sandwichwaitin in th? sack
Ridin a tom tom, a double fat back
Got my poke chop sandwich? /p>
Layin on da drum
Poke chop greazyIm gonna get some
Get some a? dat poke chop
Poke chop sandwich
Poke chop
Poke chop sandwich
Yeah yeah twenty five
Louisiana back beat and th? texas bop
Do a hollywood shuffle jes? cant top it
New york turn around and
Th? london stomp
African good luck combination
I know that ya want
Poke chop
Poke chop sandwich
Poke chop
Double poke chop sandwich
Play on
Spider & lightnin hopkins got
Th? big bad beat
Aint no question what they gonna eat
Spider wanna a bottle,
Lightnin? wanna a can
Theyll take in a bucket
cause they dam well can
A poke chop
A poke at dat chop
Cut dat poke chope
Poke chop sandwich
Feel like, I feel like a poke chop sandwich
Give me dat sandwich in wax paper
Pork chop sandwich
song performed by by ZZ Top
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Why?
Unaccountably, while I was making a liverwurst sandwich
(with mustard and cornichons on rye)
the poem took a dive
off the countertop, I don't know why,
onto the floor and burst into words
which can be either blunt or sharp, God knows.
There was nothing to do
but vacuum it up
eat the sandwich and, and,
put on shoes.
poem by Morgan Michaels
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fly Away Home
The bells toll for you today
To fly to your new home in
Yonder sky..
Spread your wings and fly
From down here below,
So, fly away home
Oh, fly away home
To your new home in
Yonder sky..
Our hearts are broken and
We fill so blue,
Many tears has been shred
For miss you so
We know you have pass through
Heavens gates
Your journey was hard but the
Bell toll
For you to come home in yonder
Sky..
So, fly away home
Oh, fly away home
Your great work you accomplished
Down here below
Have been awarded
Your memory will never fade
So, fly away home
Oh, fly away home
To your new home in yonder
Sky..
If I had not died I would have
Been a gospel singer..
But since I’d died I will sing
In the heavenly choir..
So, fly away home
Oh, fly away home...
poem by Carolyn Sears
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Peanut-Butter Sandwich
I'll sing you a poem of a silly young king
Who played with the world at the end of a string,
But he only loved one single thing—
And that was just a peanut-butter sandwich.
His scepter and his royal gowns,
His regal throne and golden crowns
Were brown and sticky from the mounds
And drippings from each peanut-butter sandwich.
His subjects all were silly fools
For he had passed a royal rule
That all that they could learn in school
Was how to make a peanut-butter sandwich.
He would not eat his sovereign steak,
He scorned his soup and kingly cake,
And told his courtly cook to bake
An extra-sticky peanut-butter sandwich.
And then one day he took a bit
And started chewing with delight,
But found his mouth was stuck quite tight
From that last bite of peanut-butter sandwich.
His brother pulled, his sister pried,
The wizard pushed, his mother cried,
'My boy's committed suicide
From eating his last peanut-butter sandwich!'
The dentist came, and the royal doc.
The royal plumber banged and knocked,
But still those jaws stayed tightly locked.
Oh darn that sticky peanut-butter sandwich!
The carpenter, he tried with pliers,
The telephone man tried with wires,
The firemen, they tried with fire,
But couldn't melt that peanut-butter sandwich.
With ropes and pulleys, drills and coil,
With steam and lubricating oil—
For twenty years of tears and toil—
They fought that awful peanut-butter sandwich.
Then all his royal subjects came.
They hooked his jaws with grapplin' chains
And pulled both ways with might and main
Against that stubborn peanut-butter sandwich.
Each man and woman, girl and boy
Put down their ploughs and pots and toys
And pulled until kerack! Oh, joy—
They broke right through that peanut-butter sandwich
A puff of dust, a screech, a squeak—
The king's jaw opened with a creak.
And then in voice so faint and weak—
The first words that they heard him speak
Were, 'How about a peanut-butter sandwich?'
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You are priests, not social or political leaders. Let us not be under the illusion that we are serving the Gospel through an exaggerated interest in the wide field of temporal problems.
quote by Pope John Paul II
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Path of a Gambler
A man sought coin in a voluminous fashion,
a few more pounds to add to his loot,
used to help satisfy a prodigal passion.
A father has lost his son to a single action;
when he craved to add to the tempting fruit,
a man sought coin in a voluminous fashion.
His gambler's heart soon became a beacon;
racing, waiting for a spotter's toot,
used to help satisfy a prodigal passion.
This one risk is only but a fraction
of the goal which he was to pursuit.
a man sought coin in a voluminous fashion.
When his hands started to feel the burden,
one that he had been too blind to compute,
used to help satisfy a prodigal passion.
When his bets were lost, he heard a beckon,
he sought to close the the tribute.
A man sought coin in a voluminous fashion,
used to help satisfy a prodigal passion.
poem by Michael Roysdon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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On My Way Home
I have been given
One moment from heaven
As I am walking
Surrounded by night
Stars high above me
Make a wish under moonlight
On my way home
I remember only good days
On my way home
I remember all the best days
On my way home
I can remember every new day
I move in silence
With each step taken
Snow falling round me
Like angels in flight
Far in the distance
Is my wish under moonlight
On my way home
I remember only good days
On my way home
I remember all the best days
On my way home
I can remember every new day
song performed by by Enya from The Memory Of Trees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Welcome Home
In my life
I have seen
Far away places
Wild and serene
But nothing I saw
Prepared me for
The mat on the floor
Saying "welcome home"
Time flies
See the moon rise
As I'm makin' my way
Through another long day
But I'll go
To a place I know
In my heart I know
There's just no place
Like home
Welcome home
Welcome home
To that place
That's safe and warm
Always a shelter
From the storm
I'm going home
Welcome home
Roll out the welcome mat
For me!
I'm goin' home
Sometimes
I remember
All the days I never knew
If I would ever make it through
But just when
I'd give up again
I'd remember when the days
Were stormy
Home was always
Waitin' for me
Sayin'
Welcome home
Welcome home
Where there will always be
A welcoming light on
Just for me
When I go home
Welcome home
No place
That I would rather be
Than goin' home
In my heart I know
That someday when my time
Is drawing near
I'm gonna hear
Welcome home
Welcome home
Where there will always be
Somebody waiting
There for me
When I go home
Home sweet home
Everyone's smilin' just for me
When I go home
In my heart I see
Somebody waiting
There for me
Welcome home
Welcome home
It looks like a
Starlight symphony
I'm goin' home
song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Big Joe
Once by a star a beautiful bouncy baby was born
The blooming fields were full of the finest corn
Little Joe was a longed for heir in a noble line
The village celebrated and blessed him in wine
Chorus:
A prodigal son entered their life
A perfect future with no strife…
Time will tell he grew up a very handsome man
Succeeded in all and always with a perfect plan
Little Joe got only A’s in his expensive school
His mother adored her most precious jewel
Chorus:
A prodigal intelligent famous son
Life for him was always fun…
Times went by and Joe had to go to the City
His father’s pride but mum thought a pity
He ended up a notorious lover and flirt
Joe enjoyed the limelight and all the dirt
Chorus:
The most perfect prodigal son
Now his life all went wrong…
Some say it was too much whiskey and cocaine
No one really knows what went to his brain
Big Joe as he now was called in the town
He lost all senses and birthright crown
The prodigal son turned a cheat
Now all alone on the street…
poem by Isabel Lavender
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Dead Parents And The Prodigal Sons
at this point
of their lives the stingy parents
now dead
shall have no regrets
for then their time shall come
to squander
what was saved: land and jewelries
and whatever
shall be thrown away like garbage
for the pigs,
sometimes one asks
if the prodigal sons are prodigal
because when they
were young
they were deprived of what
is due
kids who were not allowed to play
stored in the room
like some stuffed toys.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Social Security Reform
They have found an answer for social security
Put them in a nursing home, no liability
Medicaid and medicare will probably have to pay
Then they'll only live a year or two and become their prey
The nursing home corporations, will get rich
And the social security payments, they can ditch
Who's powerful enough to point a finger at them
Some politicians is where it all will stem
The corporations make large contributions
Giving social security great solutions
Let's change the laws and cap health care liabilty
And hurt the care in nursing homes, supposed to be tranquilty
I guess when people get old, they don't need a voice
After all it's not their own, it's the goverments choice!
poem by Donna Nimmo
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That Sandwich
as you take that sandwich
i remember 1971
the ham, and mayonnaise
the purple sliced onions
and cucumber
that you slip between
a big sandwich which you
say is too delicious
that is not how i saw it in the 70's
you were too young then
to know the connotation of the word
or the metaphor of being sandwiched
between two warring forces
who wanted to win by killing each other
they were all civilians mind you
sandwiched between the armed and dangerous government
and the armed and more dangerous rebels
the ham, and mayonnaise
the purple sliced onions
and cucumber
that you slip between
a big sandwich which you
say is too delicious
in the 70's they were not delicious at all
they were maimed, and bloody, killed on the streets
and public plazas bombed and brains scattered
on the hot cemented pavements
people kept in hog wires and secret
detention places
brothers all but so insensitive to the
the roots of humanity
Cains and Abels
the ham, and mayonnaise
the purple sliced onions
and cucumber
that you slip between
a big sandwich which you
say is too delicious
when all i need is simply a bitter tasting coffee
without the sugar and cream
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Disciple
He that hath a Gospel
To loose upon Mankind,
Though he serve it utterly--
Body, soul and mind--
Though he go to Calvary
Daily for its gain--
It is His Disciple
Shall make his labour vain.
He that hath a Gospel
For all earth to own--
Though he etch it on the steel,
Or carve it on the stone--
Not to be misdoubted
Through the after-days--
It is His Disciple
Shall read it many ways.
It is His Disciple
(Ere Those Bones are dust )
Who shall change the Charter,
Who shall split the Trust--
Amplify distinctions,
Rationalize the Claim;
Preaching that the Master
Would have done the same.
It is His Disciple
Who shall tell us how
Much the Master would have scrapped
Had he lived till now--
What he would have modified
Of what he said before.
It is His Disciple
Shall do this and more....
He that hath a Gospel
Whereby Heaven is won
( Carpenter, or cameleer,
Or Maya's dreaming son ),
Many swords shall pierce Him,
Mingling blood with gall;
But His Own Disciple
Shall wound Him worst of all!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Salvation Is Believing
There are many apostate preachers
in the world today
by perverting the pure gospel of Jesus
to change it to their own way
They twist the scriptures around
to make up their own plan of salvation
instead of leaving the bible the way it is
and let it do the work of regeneration
The gospel is not a way to live,
it’s good news to be believed, not to do
Believing with all your heart
that Jesus shed his blood on the cross for you
John 3: 16 For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son that whosoever believeth in him should not perish but have everlasting life.
Galations 1: 6 I marvel that ye are so soon removed from him that calleth you into the grace of Christ unto another gospel:
1: 7 Which is not another; but there be some that trouble you, and would pervert the gospel of Christ.
poem by Cindy Wyatt
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Social Plague
It's a joy in the life of being me
Social changes
The blackest dust can cover their eyes so they can't see
Social stages
The children modify their own monopoly
Social changes
The KKK wants their own STV
Social places
You must understand that I'm made this way
Don't give a damn if you can't change
Your little narrow mind today
I can't wait for the changes
You can't understand my rage
This thing's going on too long
I can't understand it
Social plague now
2000 strong, they back up white supremacy and I can't take it
I can't take it
Can't prove a thing, one day they'll see
That I'm staying
Within this shell there lies a menace to the core
We can't change it
That's the day when there be no more
Social changes
song performed by by 24-7 Spyz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet: An Invocation to God
God, free the bird that’s caught within brambles,
And save the lamb from wolf dressed in sheep-skin;
Rescue the man who takes drugs, kills, gambles;
Set free the souls that live in mortal sin.
God, save the sheep that strayed onto the ledge;
Bring back the prodigal son early home;
Allow the sick to touch your raiment’s edge,
And make the faithful walk upon the foam.
God, let the gospel reach new eyes, ears, hearts;
God, let the deserts bloom verdure again;
God, heal bad minds and diseased body-parts;
God, bring in time, the breeze, the sun and rain.
God, comfort hearts that human hands have ditched;
Deliver souls that satan has bewitched.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 10-21-2005
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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