We know something of the history of the spread of Christianity, but much passed from recorded memory and much was transmitted by tradition whose accuracy has been repeatedly questioned.
quote by Kenneth Scott Latourette
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ongoing Process.
Three quarters of a century.
Recorded in my memory.
Experience that made me, me.
A complete life times history.
Of all I've heard and all I've seen.
Recorded in my memory.
What I have done and where I've been.
A complete life times history.
I can look forward eagerly.
A quarter of a century.
To reaching my centenary.
Recorded automatically.
And stored within my memory.
Accessible only to me.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Accuracy
We sit in the same room
Side by side
I give you the wrong lines
Feed you
Accuracy
Accuracy
Look into my eyes
We both smile
I could kill you
Without trying
That's accuracy
Accuracy
Accuracy
...
Accuracy
Accuracy
Practice all day for accuracy
Mirror mirror on the wall
song performed by by Cure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The birth of poetry for M lady Mary Gordley
The birth of poetry.
Before the advent of the written word.
When all knowledge was passed on orally.
then history relied on memory.
Men had to memorise all that they heard
Perhaps this was the birth of poetry.
The tribal elders found they could recall
in simple rhyming verses best of all.
Easily committed to memory.
Long, long before recorded history.
The elders chose and trained one man to be
The current guardian of their legacy
of knowledge they had garnered carefully.
When all knowledge was passed on orally
Then history relied on memory
Poetic piers
http: //blog my space.com.poetic piers
12-May-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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History is more or less bunk. It's tradition. We don't want tradition. We want to live in the present and the only history that is worth a tinker's damn is the history we made today.
quote by Henry Ford
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A strange thing is memory, and hope; one looks backward, and the other forward; one is of today, the other of tomorrow. Memory is history recorded in our brain, memory is a painter, it paints pictures of the past and of the day.
quote by Grandma Moses
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A strange thing is memory, and hope one looks backward, and the other forward one is of today, the other of tomorrow. Memory is history recorded in our brain, memory is a painter, it paints pictures of the past and of the day.
quote by Anna Mary Robertson Moses
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Blind Faith
(09/19/11)
I was always taught that JESUS CHRIST was a Jew.
Then there is a question that I must ask of you.
If he was a Jew- did he have a bar-mitzvah?
Or was he just put on this earth
So Christianity could give birth?
At the age of twelve he sat down
with rabbi’s and teachers
For this was the way that he would reach us.
His cousin JOHN THE BAPTIST
Was baptizing people with water.
Was this the first step of GODS orders?
Questions such as these will always arise
But I know he’s always by my side.
Christianity was born on blind faith
Most get it early - while others get it late.
This blind faith is passed down from
Generation to generation
This has become our salvation.
Unlike scientist who only believe in what
Can be seen and what can be proven, they ask
How can blind faith keep one moving.
Now JESUS is but one man
Yet his face is in every land.
There is not one person in any religion
Known more than CHRIST.
It makes you think - not once but twice.
This is how fast Christianity has spread
That he is known world wide
And on blind faith we do rely.
As for GOD there is only one
And he gave us his only son.
poem by Louis Rams
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Fundamental of Liar Chapter XCI: Questioned
The king will fall if his wisdom is questioned
The soldier will die if his loyalty is questioned
The lover will separate if his love is questioned
But the poet will keep singing even if his sanity is questioned
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Christianity is usually called a religion. As a religion it has had a wider geographic spread and is more deeply rooted among more peoples than any other religion in the history of mankind.
quote by Kenneth Scott Latourette
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Trigger
Everything we do is recorded
in our computer’s memory
to be released at moments
when we least expect them.
A smell or a sound
could be the trigger
to release a memory
and send us hurtling back
to the time when it was recorded.
Some things are sad things
that we hoped
would never be released
and others are of good things
that came our way
making us rejoice over them.
Each lasts for only moments
before returning back
into our computer’s memory.
10 April 2011
poem by David Harris
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History?
Has history taught us nothing
but tales and ancient lies?
All wrapped up in stories
not told us by the wise?
Told by the vicars who consecrated death
Told by the rulers
with power in their breath.
Passed on in written words
in books the masses read,
never questioned, never disputed
in the minds they lead.
Slanted stories still present
right to our present day.
Foes of peace seen as heroes
in ungodly ways
and as we live the history writers
will pen each blazing act
as benificent for these difficult times,
more fiction than true fact.
So those who follow in our steps
will read our history book
and what they read will be fantasy
with a different look.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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When they talk about family values, it's in a repressive way, as if our American tradition were only the Puritan tradition or the 19th century oppressive tradition. The Christian tradition.
quote by James Hillman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Accuracy of observation is the equivalent of accuracy of thinking.
quote by Wallace Stevens
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Christian cannot be satisfied so long as any human activity is either opposed to Christianity or out of connection with Christianity. Christianity must pervade not merely all nations but also all of human thought.
quote by J. Gresham Machen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We don't want tradition. We want to live in the present and the only history that is worth a tinker's dam is the history we make today.
quote by Henry Ford
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Spinsters Legacy
Great Grandma’s walnut cabinet.
In my house still holds pride of place,
displays her treasures even yet.
Fine china that we could not replace
A solid silver tea service.
Presented to her when she wed,
Objets D’Art beyond all price.
Rare curios she collected.
It has passed down the family.
Mother to daughter faithfully
by each one cared for carefully.
Until at last it came to me.
I have no children never wed
so this tradition ends with me.
I have decided when I am dead,
this piece of local history.
Should be on show for all to see
I have bequeathed it clear and free.
To a museum locally
in honour of her memory.
I have no living kith or kin
with me will die the family tree
I had a brother Benjamin
but he died young, a tragedy.
(11-Aug-07)
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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No One Questioned the Reek
When behavior they 'then' expressed,
Was not addressed...
But to some questionable?
Those of responsibility could have stood up,
To the plate.
No one did this.
But many bit down to chew!
And...
Instead,
An appreciation for that was shown.
With a bowing to lower eyes and heads.
Mixed signals were sent.
And deceit and devilment...
Were given carte blanche signals,
Not to slow down with caution...
But to move like blinded bulls,
Charging through halls...
Where precious crystal and china were used.
And no one confused a 'no' with a 'go'!
In fact...
Honors were given.
And some medals bestowed.
Some folks were given carte blanche signals.
For more of this to be exposed.
And it showed.
And they did...go!
Taking 'everything' with them,
To an humongous cellpool!
A deepened hole...
Where rooms were added.
And pretensions glowed!
With a renovation to extend the existing stench.
Guests were invited and asked to adorn masks.
No one questioned the reek.
It was as if an acceptance grew.
No one questioned the reek.
It was as if an acceptance grew.
No one questioned the reek.
It was as if an acceptance grew.
No one questioned the reek.
It was as if an acceptance grew.
And it did!
No one hid.
Deceit was done,
And everyone told...
Their bigger 'fibs'.
But...
No one questioned the reek.
It was as if an acceptance grew.
No one questioned the reek.
It was as if an acceptance grew.
No one questioned the reek.
It was as if an acceptance grew.
And it did!
No one hid.
Deceit was done,
And everyone told...
Their bigger 'fibs'.
And...
No one questioned the reek.
It was as if an acceptance grew.
No one questioned the reek.
It was as if an acceptance grew.
No one questioned the reek.
It was as if an acceptance grew.
No one questioned.
No one questioned.
No one questioned the reek.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Prologue
Chronicle of The House of Maltus
In the corner of history you were there
watching the broken shadow of the air
cast by the light- from the uncertain future
of the recorded fate clothe of horror
In the corner of history- they
people of strange tongue and of ancient way
pale skinned creatures: silent in the day,
at night they with sharp and penetrating eye
In the corner of history- was a sight
the undying old between day and night
-he was un-earthed master of the tomb- the knight
and, -she was, in the womb of the lord's might
In the corner of history- still is
the great ancestors buried to the chest of bliss
lords and ladies- the royal blood of the fathers
warriors and servants- the welcomed guests
In the corner of history- I am
-the last of them, wise and valiant half man
-hundred years and more; I am the to and the from
-their birth, their death in my heart precious so warm
In the corner of history- the face and the name
of the creature cursed by them
man they are all the same
consumed by their malice they named us villain
In the corner of history- I, vanished
left the cruel world created by mans' heart
doomed by their own malice, their hatred
to my own kind- the sons and daughters of god
In the corner of history- I found
at last the heaven for us, above the sand
were memories from the past un-harmed
by the filthy beast: man, and their kind
Note:
Book the first, The Prologue
From the tradition of the “vamperas”- the story of Maltus.
(vamperas- equivalent to vampire; Maltus- character
appeared in the author's dream)
poem by Jordan Legaspi
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It might be crazy to expect a high government official to speak the truth. It might be crazy to believe that government policy will be something more than the handmaiden of the most powerful interests. It might be crazy to argue that we should preserve a tradition that has been part of our tradition for most of our history — free culture. If this is crazy, then let there be more crazies. Soon.
quote by Lawrence Lessig
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Cradled
Sexually transmitted diseases,
Healthy mother and healthy babies;
And like a newborn baby who lies cradled in its mother's arms.
It is a natural process but,
Let us watch out for thses sexually transmitted diseases! !
The pride of parents when a baby is born,
And cradled in the mother's arm is this new born;
But having no prenatal care can put prenancies into a high risk!
So stay very healthy to overcome sexually transmitted diseases.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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