California
Why should he not have been allowed
To thread with peaceful feet the crowd
Which filled that Christian street?
The Decalogue he had observed,
From Faith in Jesus had not swerved,
And scorning pious platitudes,
He saw in the Beatitudes
A lamp to guide his feet.
He knew that Jonah downed the whale
And made no bones of it. The tale
That Ananias told
He swore was true. He had no doubt
That Daniel laid the lions out.
In short, he had all holiness,
All meekness and all lowliness,
And was with saints enrolled.
'Tis true, some slight excess of zeal
Sincerely to promote the weal
Of this most Christian state
Had moved him rudely to divide
The queue that was a pagan's pride,
And in addition certify
The Faith by making fur to fly
From pelt as well as pate?
But, Heavenly Father, thou dost know
That in this town these actions go
For nothing worth a name.
Nay, every editorial ass,
To prove they never come to pass
Will damn his soul eternally,
Although in his own journal he
May read the printed shame.
From bloody hands the reins of pow'r
Fall slack; the high-decisive hour
Strikes not for liars' ears.
Remove, O Father, the disgrace
That stains our California's face,
And consecrate to human good
The strength of her young womanhood
And all her golden years!
poem by Ambrose Bierce
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Related quotes
How Graces Are To Be Obtained
The next word that I would unto thee say,
Is how thou mayst attain without delay,
Those blessed graces, and that holiness
Thou dost with so much godly zeal express
Thy love to, and thy longing to enjoy,
That sins and weakness might thee less annoy.
Know, then, as I have hinted heretofore,
And shall now speak unto a little more,
All graces in the person of the Son
Are by the Father hid, and therefore none
Can them obtain but they who with him close;
All others graceless are but only those;
For of his fullness 'tis that we receive,
And grace for grace; let no man then deceive
Himself or others with a feigned show
Of holiness, if Jesus they eschew.
When he ascended to his Father, then
It was that he received gifts for men;
Faith, hope, and love, true zeal, an upright heart,
Right humbleness of mind, and every part
Of what the word of life counts holiness,
God then laid up in him, that we redress
And help might have, who do unto him fly
For righteousness and gospel sanctity.
poem by John Bunyan
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Who Are The Saints?
Just who are the Saints my friend, let The Word help you comprehend?
Are Saints a select religious few, selected by a tiny hand picked crew?
Are they made for worship by men, which by Christ will be condemned?
Or are they men like me and you, who have come into a life that’s new?
Call no one on earth Father Jesus said, it’s in Matthew haven’t you read?
For we have but one Father in Heaven, all else is simply religious leaven.
Men’s pious religious veneration, has nothing to do with true Salvation.
True Saints are humbled when, they realize they should be condemned.
All those who come to Christ in faith, are said by God to be His Saints.
Saints are the men set apart by God, while still upon this earth we trod.
We become a Saint when we believe, so please friend, don’t be deceived.
The Bible said that men would fall away, in the spiritual apostasy of today.
What about the Saints at Ephesus, should these men be respected less?
What about the Saints at Rome, the Pope or Vatican wasn’t even known?
Why not believe the words of Christ, if we’re serious about Eternal Life?
The Holy Spirit is the one who seals, all God’s living Saints who are real.
Our worship should go to only one; and that is God and His Only Son.
Just one mediator between God and man, this is easy to understand.
The mediator is Jesus Christ; for Christ is the One who gave His life.
He gave His life for me and you; Christ died so we could live life anew.
Because of His work on the cross, we enter God’s throne with boldness.
He now intercedes for the Saints, who pray to God through humble faith.
Soon Christ will call His Saints up, to return with Him in eternal triumph.
Then religious men in fear will faint, when they see Christ’s real Saints.
Save Them Father
Father you are always on my mind, I love you Father and trust
in you with all my heart. I have no questions for your decisions,
my faith is strong and true.
Father I’m in awe when I look around this world, when I stand
and take in the awesome views, I know this is the work of the
Master, and that Master for certain is you.
This morning Father I pray for those without faith, who can not
see pass their noses. They have eyes that function, but they
truly can not see.
Father give these blind people the ability to come out from their
deadened shells, touch them with your spirit, let them see the
light.
Oh Father God, drench them with your love so they make no
mistake. Take them by the hand so some day they too will
walk through Heaven’s Gate.
Father sometime young people are taken in by those who have
no interest in their soul but only in the money that they hold.
The devil’s people live among us, taking advantage of many.
Your children need your guidance Father and your continued
patience for I truly believe some day they will come out of the
darkness, walk into the light and face the truth.
Father I leave these people to you, in your caring hands. May
they make Jesus the center of their lives and join their brothers
and sisters who know the truth, save them Father.
I Love you Father and I ask this Lord in the name of your only
Son Jesus.-Amen
Written: Sept.30,2007
poem by Melvina Germain
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Honor Our Father! ! !
I remember when I was young,
My New Life with Christ, Just begun,
I became Born-again!
I'll Never forget that day,
When Jesus came in my heart, To Stay!
He's been guiding me all this way,
One day I asked Him'Father, What should I do?
My earthly Dad, wants to be called father too
I know Your Word says, Call No man Father
On Earth, But Only Our Father in Heaven,
You're The Father -of us all, This is True! ! !
Father replied'My Child, You don't understand
'I AM' 'Your Holy Father'
Your earthly father is a Human, man
But You are to Honor Your Father and Mother,
Because that's one of My Commands,
By Honoring them, You also Honor Me!
I appointed Your Parents, to guide You to see,
Jesus! Through Him, You've come to me,
'I AM' The Holy Father, I give Eternal Life!
poem by Patricia Martin
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Speaking Against ‘ Da Vinci Code’
What Jesus did until thirty
Years, isn’t mentioned in the Bible;
For next three years, he traveled wide,
To preach the Word of God’s Kingdom.
A busy man, a Master too –
With flock of Apostles behind:
He preached through parables to all,
And earned good respect ’midst people.
He spoke in parables;
He performed miracles;
His wisdom was so great,
That Pharisees did hate!
Yet, all the while, He knew His end!
A painful death on Holy Cross –
For sins of entire mankind;
He had His Father’s cause always!
Oh, what a sad life for young Christ!
His eyes revealed divine love first;
He had no time for romance, love;
His Father’s work was duty prime!
Like a man who knew His end was near,
He walked about praying, with fear;
He fasted often- bible tells;
Some laid snares to entrap Jesus.
Which doctor marries his patient?
Which lawyer weds his own client?
Do teachers marry own pupils?
These are’nt so common-place at all!
To say that Jesus was in love
With Mary Magdalene, that too,
Who was a known harlot those days:
Amounts to only blasphemy!
To speak wrong things about the Lord,
To lie about his personal life,
To misinterpret Bible’s words –
Are sins that God cannot forgive!
To slander about Christ’s conduct,
To spread false stories about him,
To hurt a Christian’s faith, beliefs –
Is but a work of Anti-Christ!
Yes, Satan trys his level-best
To bring a slur on Christ’s image;
But Prophecies will happen true;
God’s Words are words of truth always!
No Christian cares for Vinci code;
God knows to annul extreme lies;
Lord Jesus who won o’er satan
Was not an ordinary man!
His aim in life was Redemption
For mankind’s sins by death on cross;
The thought sometimes troubled his mind;
He prayed to Father for new strength!
(To be contd.)
Copyright by Dr John Celes 5-13-2008
poem by John Celes
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Saul turns Paul: The Road to Damascus
Blinded by a brilliant light,
On the road to Damascus,
Saul of Tarsus, on horse-back
Heard the voice of Jesus Christ:
‘Saul Saul, why persecute me? ’
‘Who are you? ’ Asked Saul at once.
‘I am Jesus Christ and Lord! ’
Saul saw Christ in apparition!
Others saw the light as well,
But couldn’t hear the divine voice!
Hit by the bolt of light from sky,
Saul fell from his horse-back to ground;
The voice bade him enter city,
Where he would be told what to do;
For three days, Saul remained just blind
And did not eat and drink ever!
Ten years’ younger than Jesus Christ,
Saul annihilated Christians
Whenever, wherever, he could;
He never had seen Jesus Christ.
A disciple, Ananias
Had a vision in Damascus;
To go to the house of Judas
And to restore the sight of Saul.
Ananias did as he was bade;
Something like scales fell from Saul’s eyes;
His sight was restored by God’s will
Ananias then baptized him;
He regained strength after eating;
God chose him as His instrument
To spread His name among Gentiles!
Cured by Ananias, he was
Baptized into Christianity;
From Saul of Tarsus, Pharisee,
Was born an Apostle of Christ;
Paul took his newer Latin name,
An ardent Christian, Apostle.
From youth, he knew how to make tents!
His New Testament Epistles
Became a founding voice of faith
And proved that sins can be absolved
Through faith and grace of Jesus Christ!
God forgives any sin of man,
No matter how grave it could be;
Except against Holy Spirit!
Orthodox Hebrew of Tarsus,
Saul journeyed to Damascus,
To seek and arrest Christians there!
Having witnessed Stephen stoned –
The first Christian martyr Saint!
Saul repressed disciples of Christ
At Jerusalem and elsewhere
Arresting and chaining them all,
Forcing them into blasphemy!
He laid siege to the Church!
Paul learnt the Gospel from no man;
It was revealed to him by Christ;
The grace of God had chosen him
To preach the Gospel to Gentiles;
To Paul in trance-like state, God spoke
And sent him on a mission far
To preach the Word to Gentiles all;
To open their eyes from darkness to light
To turn them away from satan;
Receive forgiveness for their sins.
St. Paul wrote epistles in Greek;
He was martyred (beheaded) in Rome.
June’08 – Jun’09 is ‘Year of St.Paul!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 7-15-2008
poem by John Celes
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What is Hope?
Never was a larger word
than Hope;
all dreams reside there;
In the Future,
resides our desires laid bare;
our Now wants to go there
our Past wants to be washed away
or celebrate there-
inside Hope's Cathedral.
Hope is the Promised Land.
both Means
and Destination.
But, what good does Hope do
if it goes away
after
what we hope for comes true?
Is there not another dream then
that Hope must then fulfill?
But, here we ask
what then is Hope itself?
Is it my Expectation Confident
that what I want
will come true?
Is it merely that Leap of Faith
that all that currently ails
will dissipate
in my hoped-for future state?
If all is risked on this single word
then we must know exactly
what it is;
for me
what is Hope's meaning for me?
Well the Expectation idea
that Hope is the confidence that
want I want will come true
is too much for me.
I don't have that kind of confidence
do you?
Nothing for me is ever for sure
not even Hope
itself
because, as we all know, Hope can
give way to Black Despair where
by definition Hope has gone
and fled.
Since no one can read our future states
we bob and weave between
hoping for hope
but fearing despair.
I rather like the Leap of Faith Idea
where we all make
the assumption that actions now,
will in future state,
pay off
and Hope will fulfill the expectations
we have placed there.
But note,
it is all too true that Hope
then is fully based
on Leaps of Faith
and then we ask
faith in what?
If all of Human-Kinds Hopes
distill from Human-Kinds Dreams
then upon what faith did cavemen
dream of a better world?
Upon a pagan God,
restless shadows on the cave wall,
incantations said and made?
But the pointed point here is
that our ancestors did have
blind faith in something which
caused them to feel that dreams
they dreamed
had some Hope of becoming Real
and that Hope
had to involve for them an enormous leap
beyond what they could see
in their lives then.
So Leaping then is what we do
even where there is no evidence
in reality that our dreams
however fervently held
will ever actually come true.
So Hope we see
is bound up with
Mystery
and Leapings
into Voids
with nothing more
than the belief
that in dreaming
it
we can make it come true-
be brought into reality.
Rather like writing a poem.
Humm, the moral here:
Nothing can be done
unless one
has the dream
and Hope
to make it so
and by hoping bring it
into reality.
This seems to be
the true History
of Human-Kind
at its best
and
at its
worse.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Father Joe Murphy
When i was a Schoolboy Father Joe Murphy was a young man
I recall him and his Brothers Doney and the late Johnny Dan
And though of my existence he hardly would know
One cannot help but remember the great Father Joe.
Fifty five years as a priest something to celebrate
The man has been blessed in his great gift of faith
To his own higher self and to his god true
We must give him credit since credit he is due.
Devoted to his god by good example he lead
At living a good life one who does succeed
A credit to Millstreet and the pride of his clan
The great Father Joe is a wonderful man.
In this age of the cheapening values in life
With warring and famines and poverty rife
A story like Father Joe's a great story to hear
There's still hope for humanity it does appear.
Fifty five years a priest is something well worth a boast
To Father Joe Murphy we will drink a toast
He was in his prime years when i was quite young
And surely his praises deserve to be sung.
poem by Francis Duggan
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My Father cuts a Furrow
My father cuts a furrow, true lines does he run,
My father cuts a furrow, no horses did he have,
My father cuts a furrow no fields, hills of grass,
My fathers furrows were wisdom,
This is what he had.
To his dying day his gait was straight and true,
My father was not a farmer, for the city,
All he knew.
As father cut his furrow, so does hit son, I am told,
The wisdom my Father passed on to lay dormant,
Many years, put on hold, not until the age of 78 did
I realize, not much time left, as I too was growing old,
So I write my poetry from my fathers wisdom,
That was willed to me, only way to have my stories told.
As father cut his furrow, so does his son, to pass
The wisdom, that was left from father,
God Bless his soul.
poem by Charles Garcia
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Follow A Famous Father
I follow a famous father,
His honor is mine to wear;
He gave me a name that was free from shame,
A name he was proud to bear.
He lived in the morning sunlight,
And marched in the ranks of right.
He was always true to the best he knew
And the shield that he wore was bright.
I follow a famous father,
And never a day goes by
But I feel that he looks down to me
To carry his standard high.
He stood to the sternest trials
As only a brave man can;
Though the way be long, I must never wrong
The name of so good a man.
I follow a famous father,
Not known to the printed page,
Nor written down in the world's renown
As a prince of his little age.
But never a stain attached to him
And never he stooped to shame;
He was bold and brave and to me he gave
The pride of an honest name.
I follow a famous father,
And him I must keep in mind;
Though his form is gone, I must carry on
The name that he left behind.
It was mine on the day he gave it,
It shone as a monarch's crown,
And as fair to see as it came to me
It must be when I pass it down.
poem by Edgar Albert Guest
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Maybe A CINO
Friend, are you a CINO faithfully, being a Christian in name only?
Christianity they don’t profess, as The Spirit they don’t possess.
Some, may dare profess a faith, never touched by God’s Grace,
Grace that when it’s received, changes hearts that have believed.
True faith’s more than knowledge of, The Lord who reigns above,
But, a faith that brings to earth, God above, through a New Birth,
Spiritual Birth, bringing into life, as Lord and Savior Jesus Christ,
Who moves upon this earthly sod, in all who truly belong to God.
There are CINOs in every church, weekly in their pews they perch,
Hearing the Word week after week, but His Truth they never seek,
And in their pews they do remain, with a heart in need of change,
Sitting there as they always have, using their faith as just a salve.
So they leave their house of faith, not changed, by God’s Grace,
Still being who they were before, they entered in a church’s door,
And back into their week they go, with very little change to show,
To those on life’s Broader Way, with whom they work day to day.
So all Christians, in only name, can cause Christ hurt and shame,
By their actions, make no mistake, for their benefit, not His sake,
When you see a Godless testimony, it may just be, in name only,
Not a True Christian, please know, but simply a professing CINO.
(Copyright ©11/2009)
Sonnet: Upon the Christian's Heart
Upon each Christian's heart is etched by God,
The Ten Commandments that He gave Moses;
And disobedience's mortal sin with rod;
And after-life with God, He thus looses!
Each Christian's heart has knowledge of God's love;
The Father gave His Son's life for man's sake;
By keeping all Commandments, we then prove
Our love for Jesus is true and not fake!
And when you keep the Ten Commands all life,
Your soul stays pure, ready for heaven's gate;
God raises you each time you fall in strife;
You are well dressed for Bridegroom's Banquet Date!
Happy's the Christian who keeps God's tenets;
And when he dies, he leaves without regrets!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 27-02-12
poem by John Celes
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The Two Debtors
Once a woman silent stood
While Jesus sat at meat;
From her eyes she poured a flood
To wash his sacred feet
Shame and wonder, joy and love;
All at once possessed her mind:
That she e'er so vile could prove,
Yet now forgiveness find.
How came this vile woman here,
Will Jesus notice such?
Sure, if he a prophet were,
He would disdain her touch!
Simon thus, with scornful heart,
Slighted one whom Jesus loved;
But her Saviour took her part,
And thus his pride reproved.
If two men in debt were bound,
One less, the other more;
Fifty, or five hundred pound,
And both alike were poor;
Should the lender both forgive,
When he saw them both distressed;
Which of them would you believe
Engaged to love him best?
Surely he who most did owe,
The Pharisee replied;
Then our Lord, by judging so,
Thou dost for her decide:
Simon if like her you knew
How much you forgiveness need;
You like her had acted too,
And welcomed me indeed!
When the load of sin is felt,
And much forgiveness known;
Then the heart of course will melt,
Though hard before as stone:
Blame not then her love and tears,
Greatly she in debt has been;
But I have removed her fears,
And pardoned all her sin.
When I read this woman's case,
Her love and humble zeal;
I confess, with shame of face,
My heart is made of steel,
Much has been forgiv'n to me,
Jesus paid my heavy score;
What a creature must I be
That I can love no more!
poem by John Newton
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Tip Of The Iceberg
what you know of me for the whole year
when you read my poems are not at all true.
they are all lies.
words pretending to be hands
and feet.
Lines pretending to be faces and bodies.
i do not wish to tell you that you must disregard them
you want them to believe to be true.
i cannot stop you.
the women and their names are lies.
the white horse
that father rode was also a big lie.
It was father who
gunned the horse down, and he even sold all the meat and bones
of the poor animal in the streets of the town where we live.
the places and events and other
sighs and moans, the squeaking beds and mournful
moons and crying stars: they are all lies.
they are but tips of the icebergs of my glacier
of lies floating in the middle of the arctic.
you always follow me and
i do not wish to stop you.
and i will tell you wrong directions.
i will tell you about
the wrong places that i have not ever been to.
i will tell you about the errors.
the wrong things about me.
i will tell you exactly the opposite of who i am and where i am going.
you may be lost as i will mislead you.
But, IF you really want to know me, i will compromise.
You must remove your clothes.
Everything.
Even your skin.
Your face.
Your eyes.
Tighten every screw and bolts that hold your bones.
If you want to really know me, not just the tips of the icebergs about me,
you must be naked first.
Undress everything that covers you.
Then we must swim together. Let us dive under.
Let us go deeper
together. It is where my soul lives.
Deep under the tip of the iceberg.
Do you see me now? I am bigger and wider under.
Do you not fear me? Be not afraid,
I am the one that you always followed
for years and more years to come.
I am huge, deep down under.
Do not fear me now. Hold me.
Do not leave me. I am your truth too.
For one thing, there is no exit going up.
Now we must suffer together. IT is forever.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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To Jim
I gaze upon my son once more,
With eyes and heart that tire,
As solemnly he stands before
The screen drawn round the fire;
With hands behind clasped hand in hand,
Now loosely and now fast—
Just as his fathers used to stand
For generations past.
A fair and slight and childish form,
And big brown thoughtful eyes—
God help him! for a life of storm
And stress before him lies:
A wanderer and a gipsy wild,
I’ve learnt the world and know,
For I was such another child—
Ah, many years ago!
But in those dreamy eyes of him
There is no hint of doubt—
I wish that you could tell me, Jim,
The things you dream about.
Dream on, my son, that all is true
And things not what they seem—
’Twill be a bitter day for you
When wakened from your dream.
You are a child of field and flood,
But with the gipsy strains
A strong Norwegian sailor’s blood
Is running through your veins.
Be true, and slander never stings,
Be straight, and all may frown—
You’ll have the strength to grapple things
That dragged your father down.
These lines I write with bitter tears
And failing heart and hand,
But you will read in after years,
And you will understand:
You’ll hear the slander of the crowd,
They’ll whisper tales of shame,
But days will come when you’ll be proud
To bear your father’s name.
But oh! beware of bitterness
When you are wronged, my lad—
I wish I had the faith in men
And women that I had!
’Tis better far (for I have felt
The sadness in my song)
To trust all men and still be wronged
Than to trust none and wrong.
Be generous and still do good
And banish while you live
The spectre of ingratitude
That haunts the ones who give.
But if the crisis comes at length
That your future might be marred,
Strike hard, my son, with all your strength!
For your own self’s sake, strike hard!
poem by Henry Lawson
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Jesus Christ, Our Hope, Strength and Refuge!
For sins of human beings all,
Lord Jesus laid His life on cross;
Although a sin-free soul Himself,
He suffered, died to redeem man.
He shed His every dropp of blood,
Emancipating human race
From punishment by hell for sins –
Such heinous crimes upon the earth!
The cross is part of Christian’s life,
And persecutions will happen,
As Christ predicted all these things,
For those who walked in His foot-steps!
His Holy Spirit guides Christians,
Who live a righteous life for Christ,
The only Son of Almighty –
A heart of immense love for man!
But Christ resurrected from death!
He won clear victory o’er satan;
All Christians good will do the same;
This faith is something strangely true.
Let humiliations come in life!
Let trials, tribulations come!
Let strife threaten our faith and hope!
Christ stays with us till end of time!
A Christian takes his cross and walks
Behind the Savior, Jesus Christ –
The Light and Truth and only Way
To reach Heaven, abode of God!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 3-31-2009
poem by John Celes
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A Sweet Lullaby
Come, little babe; come, silly soul,
Thy father's shame, thy mother's grief,
Born, as I doubt, to all our dole
And to thyself unhappy chief:
Sing lullaby, and lap it warm,
Poor soul that thinks no creature harm.
Thou little think'st and less dost know
The cause of this thy mother's moan,
Thou want'st the wit to wail her woe,
And I myself am all alone.
Why dost thou weep? why dost thou wail?
And knowest not yet what thou dost ail.
Come, little wretch - ah, silly heart,
Mine only joy, what can I more?
If there be any wrong thy smart,
That may the destines implore,
'Twas I, I say, against my will;
I wail the time, but be thou still.
And dost thou smile? Oh, thy sweet face,
Would God himself he might thee see;
No doubt thou wouldst soon purchase grace,
I know right well, for thee and me,
But come to mother, babe, and play,
For father false is fled away.
Sweet boy, if it by fortune chance
Thy father home again to send,
If death do strike me with his lance,
Yet mayst thou me to him commend;
If any ask thy mother's name,
Tell how by love she purchased blame.
Then will his gentle heart soon yield;
I know him of a noble mind.
Although a lion in the field,
A lamb in town thou shalt him find.
Ask blessing, babe, be not afraid;
His sugared words hath me betrayed.
Then mayst thou joy and be right glad,
Although in woe I seem to moan,
Thy father is no rascal lad,
A noble youth of blood and bone;
His glancing looks, if he once smile,
Right honest women may beguile.
Come, little boy, and rock asleep,
Sing lullaby, and be thou still;
I that can do nought else but weep
Will sit by thee and wail my fill.
God bless my babe, and lullaby,
From this thy father's quality.
poem by Nicholas Breton
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Father, Father Abraham
(On the Anniversary of Lincoln's Birth)
Father, Father Abraham,
Today look on us from above;
On us, the offspring of thy faith,
The children of thy Christ-like love.
For that which we have humbly wrought,
Give us today thy kindly smile;
Wherein we've failed or fallen short,
Bear with us, Father, yet awhile.
Father, Father Abraham,
Today we lift our hearts to thee,
Filled with the thought of what great price
Was paid, that we might ransomed be.
Today we consecrate ourselves
Anew in hand and heart and brain,
To send this judgment down the years:
The ransom was not paid in vain.
poem by James Weldon Johnson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cry Freedom
How can I turn away
Brother/sister go dancing
Through my head
Human as to human
The future is no place
To place your better days
Cry freedom, cry
From a crowd 10,000 wide
Hope laid upon hope
That this crowd will not subside
Let this flag burn to dust
And a new a fair design be raised
While we wait head in hands,
Hands in prayer
And fall into a dreamless sleep again
And we wave our hands
Hands and feet are all alike
But gold between divide us
Hands and feet are all alike
But fear between divide us
All slip away
There was a window and by it stood
A mirror in which
He could see himself
He thought of something
Something he had never had but
Hoped would come along
Cry freedom, cry
From deep inside
Where we are all confined
While we wave hands in fire
Wave our hands
Hands and feet are all alike
But gold between divide us
Hands and feet are all alike
But fear between divide us,
Slip away
In this room stood a little child
And in this room this little child
She would remain
Until someone might decide
To dance this little child
Across this hall
Into a cold, dark, space
Where she might never trace her
Way across this crooked mile
Across this crooked page
Cry freedom, cry
From deep inside where
We are all confined
Till we wave our hands
How can I turn away
Brother/sister go dancing
Through my head
Human as to human
The future is no place
To place your better days
Hands and feet are all alike but gold between divide us hands and feet are all alike but fear between divide us hands and feet are all alike hear what I say hear what I say oh, so be it
How can I turn away brother/sister go dancing through my head human as to human the future is no place to place your better days
song performed by by Dave Matthews Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Father why have you forsaken me?
Faith is believing something which you can't question
........ not even classified as a blind obedient of what you believed
........ it is an inner self manifestation of the soul that reveals that only
........ your heart can define and fulfillment is rewarding beyond the
........ earthly prizes, so mysterious that no exact word can described
........ the meaning of faith
heavenly language are so simple that, only through following the foot
........ steps of the prophets, faith can be understood: the Bible, the
........ Qu'ran, the Torah has revealed and guided us the ingredients to
........ achieve perfection, the ancient wisdom provides the faithful
........ the way to live in human form of holiness
Jesus, is reflected in the scripture as the man who perfected his faith,
........ in the calvary of pain, suffering and that only our hearts can felt
........ a life that human has power to resist and define the essence of
........ self-giving through the wisdom of our faith, a sacrifice that brings
........ the meaning of the cross, a man who is willing to give his precious
........ blood
the significance of the cross, lay down the openness of our heart, our
........ hope, our faith, our future, even the human suffering we encounter
........ and along the road to calvary, all are equal, regarless of race, sex
........ religions and faith we possess
in the high-way, towards the vertical and horizontal horizon of direction
........ the cross gives us the sign that its only by meeting others in the
........ crossroad we will find the meaning of existence.... Jesus showed
........ us the way....like Him....we too shout.........Father why have you......
forsaken me?
poem by Antonio Liao
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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