Two Methods
To bucks and ewes by the Good Shepherd fed
The Priest delivers masses for the dead,
And even from estrays outside the fold
Death for the masses he would not withhold.
The Parson, loth alike to free or kill,
Forsakes the souls already on the grill,
And, God's prerogative of mercy shamming,
Spares living sinners for a harder damning.
poem by Ambrose Bierce
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Related quotes
All Soul’s Day
God, many are the souls that left the earth;
Lord, many were in sin while departing;
The cleansing of souls takes in Purgatory;
Have mercy God and take them to heaven!
Man is not perfect anytime since birth;
Sinfulness fills his heart and mind till death;
Always a prey to Satan’s ploys, he stays;
The purity of soul is something rare.
Show mercy on our brethren God, we pray;
They lived a life of struggles upon earth;
Let Requiem masses celebrated bring
Release of more souls earlier than due dates!
Let Light eternal shine upon those souls
Whose threads of life were severed by rude death;
Let hymns of pleas on behalf of faithful
Open the gate of heaven to them soon!
Let world remember ‘All Souls Day’ and pray
For deliverance of the faithful dead;
Let acts of alms-giving and good deeds too
Kindle the heart of God to set them free!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 11-2-2009
poem by John Celes
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There Are More Stars Than Poems
There are more stars than poems-
More vast silent worlds
Than small verbal ones-
Masses and masses of mass and fire
Masses and masses of darkness and death-
And against this millions and billions of words and more little words -
More stars than poems
And far too many of both
For human comprehension
poem by Shalom Freedman
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War Pigs
Witches gather at black masses
Bodies burning in red ashes
On the hill the chruch in ruin
Is the scene of evin doin
Is the place for all bad sinners
Watch them eating dead rat cinder
I guess its the same
Where ever you may go
Oh, lord yeah
Carrying banners which denounce the lord
See me rocking in my grave
See devil annoint my head with their black blood
See them stick the stake through me
Dont hold me back cause I just gotta go
Satans got a hold on my soul now
Look in my brain and there was blood and seed
Look in my eyes and there I go
Yeah
On the scene a priest appears
Sinners falling at his knees
Satan sends out funeral pyres
Casts the priest into the fire
Its the place for all bad sinners
Watch them eating dead rat cinder
I guess its the same
Where ever you may go
Oh, lord yeah
song performed by by Ozzy Osbourne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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All Soul's Day
They throng the tombs of near and dear,
To pray for souls in Purgatory;
They offer masses, light candles,
And place flowers on cemetery.
They visit tombs of orphans, friends,
And hear Requiem masses this day;
They give alms, singing hymns for dead,
Pleading for God's mercy and pray.
No soul is sinless on dying;
The soul must be freed off all sins;
The venial sins forgotten need
To be dumped in Purgatory's bins!
We ought to pray for all the dead,
Our kith and kin and strangers too;
The dead cannot do more penance,
And earn the grace of God on own!
November is the month to pray
To God to grant eternal rest,
For all awaiting Judgment's Day,
And help them pass the final Test!
Let light perpetual shine on souls
In Purgatory, where they are cleansed;
Pardon them Lord and release them;
Permit them to enter Heaven!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 2-11-12
poem by John Celes
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Your Hero
The heroes of the masses they live for their renown
And the masses create their heroes and then drag their heroes down
And the masses are unpredictable they change from day to day
And some of their heroes like the Autumn flowers are quick to fade away.
Yet there are millions of unsung heroes and they live on every street
And every day a hero I feel privileged to meet
True heroes male and female yet by the masses unsung
The World is full of heroes of heroes old and young.
Some heroes of the masses are arrogant and proud
And their egos over-swollen from the adulation of the crowd
But give me the unsung heroes who go their own quiet way
Who out of the kindness of their hearts perform one good deed every day.
Many heroes of the masses are not heroes to me
Though every day I walk the street some true hero I do see
Your hero is chauffeur driven and drinks the most expensive wine
And you can have your hero but your hero isn't mine.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Let it Kill
let it kill me and if it doesnt let it try again and again and again till i die, then let it try again and again and finally let it kill me if not then let it try again till i die of pain cause this pain i cannot take, so let it kill until i feel death creep up the corner, let me die with honor or without it just let me die, so let it kill me again and again and if not let it try until i die, for this life i cannot take i have lost all faith so just let me die, let it try to kill me dont set me free come on kill me i refuse mercy or sympathy all i want is death so please let it kill let it send me to death as fast as things go past, let it kill, let it destroy my soul and leave it not whole for i want death, i want death again i say i want death let it kill and if not let it kill again and again till death is all that remain, let it kill
poem by Adens Kamwi
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Looking For A Valentine
most of the time, she goes home early
never fails to visit the church and pray
she has been this way, hollow, empty,
the prayers never make her full
sometimes she extends her time in church
looking at the other faces hoping to find someone
that may like her, propose her a marriage
that at her last trip to love, she may not refuse
or have the right to, she has no right to choose now
at 33, she prayed so hard, and gave bigger tithes,
sponsored masses, and offered masses for her
dead ancestors,
until one day, someone paid her a special attention,
and she promised herself, she would not refuse him,
she married finally the priest, and so the emptiness
from her heart, transferred to the hallways of the church.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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All Souls Day: The Faithful Departed
Today, we think of all souls dead, some dear;
Some were so near, now gone afar, we fear;
Some were our friends, both good and bad, we knew;
But they all vanished like the morning dew!
Some were our neighbours, righteous or quite bad;
Nevertheless, they’re dead, which seems so sad;
Some were just strangers whom we met sometime;
They are no more with us in life and time.
Many we heard of, now no longer live;
Some men violent to violent ends did give;
Many unknown are gone forever too;
We pray, the love of God must all souls woo.
Some bodies lie in earthy dampness cold;
Some met a watery grave or in urns hold;
Some killed by beasts or men-demonic, died;
Many were holy, in God did abide!
Some were burnt, their ashes scattered by wind;
Some as mummies in pyramids, we find;
The end of many, we can’t imagine;
For myriads dead and worm-eaten, we pine!
The world of dead exceeds the living one;
Who thinks of orphans and who lived alone?
Kings, queens, lords, ladies, paupers too are gone;
Let living pray for God’s mercy and moan!
‘May the souls dead all, rest in peace;
May God forgive sinners with ease! ’
Copyright by Dr John Celes 02-11-11
poem by John Celes
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Hymn VI: Sinners, Turn, Why Will Ye Die?
Sinners, turn, why will ye die?
God, your Maker, asks you why?
God, who did your being give,
Made you with himself to live -
He the fatal cause demands,
Asks the work of his own hands,
Why, ye thankless creatures, why
Will ye cross his love, and die?
Sinners, turn, why will ye die?
God, your Saviour, asks you why?
God, who did your souls retrieve,
Died himself, that ye might live;
Will you let him die in vain?
Crucify your Lord again?
Why, ye ransomed sinners, why
Will you slight his grace, and die?
Sinners, turn, why will ye die?
God, the Spirit, asks you why?
He who all your lives hath strove,
Wooed you to embrace his love:
Will you not his grace receive?
Will you still refuse to live?
Why, ye long-sought sinners, why
Will you grieve your God, and die?
Dead, already dead within,
Spiritually dead in sin,
Dead to God while here you breathe,
Pant ye after second death?
Will you still in sin remain,
Greedy of eternal pain?
O ye dying sinners, why,
Why will you for ever die?
poem by John Wesley
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Sinners, Turn, Why Will Ye Die?
Sinners, turn, why will ye die?
God, your Maker, asks you why?
God, who did your being give,
Made you with himself to live -
He the fatal cause demands,
Asks the work of his own hands,
Why, ye thankless creatures, why
Will ye cross his love, and die?
Sinners, turn, why will ye die?
God, your Saviour, asks you why?
God, who did your souls retrieve,
Died himself, that ye might live;
Will you let him die in vain?
Crucify your Lord again?
Why, ye ransomed sinners, why
Will you slight his grace, and die?
Sinners, turn, why will ye die?
God, the Spirit, asks you why?
He who all your lives hath strove,
Wooed you to embrace his love:
Will you not his grace receive?
Will you still refuse to live?
Why, ye long-sought sinners, why
Will you grieve your God, and die?
Dead, already dead within,
Spiritually dead in sin,
Dead to God while here you breathe,
Pant ye after second death?
Will you still in sin remain,
Greedy of eternal pain?
O ye dying sinners, why,
Why will you for ever die?
poem by Charles Wesley
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Suicide III
Suicide is not just about death
Suicide is not just about depressive silence
Suicide is about the dead of the society
Suicide is about the ignoring silence of the masses.
Suicidal, a feeling beyond words
Suicidal, a feeling beyond expression
Suicidal, is synonymous not to death
Suicidal, a feeling, is not far from us.
Dead society with rocky feelings
Ignores the plea set forth by bodily language
Each of us busily busy with our own tasks
Time we have, but not the mind and heart to serve.
For a movie we take the depressed to relieve their stress
For a meal we take the suicidal to kill the seed suicidal
We enjoy the movie, we delightfully swallow the meal
We ‘presume’ our friends too shared the same feelings.
Deep down the deadly stalker lies in abeyance
Waiting to pounce by ounce, the victim remains haplessly helpless
Gnawing deep unto the conscience, into the being it merges
Dead fears them no more, only the moment waits to trigger the END.
We, the proud boastful members of the so-called modern societies
Skeptically ignore the pleas and cries of the few distressed souls
Assuming all is right because the victims look hale external
We let their inner turmoil roots deeper and deeper.
Their inner chattering continues
Contours of their rants appear on the face
The pricks of desperation surround their aura
Yet, we are busy planning the trivial of our lives.
Suicide is not just about death
Suicide is not just about depressive silence
Suicide is about the dead of the society
Suicide is about the ignoring silence of the masses,
Suicide is about our selfishness.
©cyclopseven. All rights reserved 010810.
poem by cyclopseven Ram
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Civilization exists precisely so that there may be no masses but rather men alert enough never to constitute masses.
quote by Georges Bernanos
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Kiss of Death
I
There she lay
Her soul astray
Her cruel lips
Where my soul slips
Into the taste of death
To find her breath
The breath of pain,
Where souls are slain
Death does not kill pain!
It lives in the one who suffer from it.
II
Death is the ultimate symbol of life
Its deadly kiss pierces harder
Than the plunge of a sharpen knife….
Death comes to us all
We know not when
Or where death will call
So our souls
Slowly slip
Into death's kiss
On her lip
Where we slowly sip
Death's dead breath
The kiss of Death
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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The Harder They Come
Well they tell me about the pie up in the sky.
Waiting for me when I die.
But between the day your born and when you die.
They never seem to hear even your cry.
So as soon as the sun will shine.
Im gonna get my shine out whats mine.
And then the harder they come, the harder they fall.
One and all.
The harder they come, the harder they fall.
One and all.
Well the opus are trying to keep me down.
Trying to drag me under-ground.
And they think that they have got the battle won.
Oh! I say forgive them lord the do not what theyve done.
So as soon as the sun will shine.
Im gonna get my shine out whats mine.
And then the harder they come, the harder they fall.
One and all. (what I say, now what I say)
The harder they come, the harder they fall.
One and all.
(yeah!)
(yeah!)
Well Ill keep on fighting for the things I want. (for the things I want.)
Though I know that when you dead you gone.
But Id rather be a free man in my grave.
Then living as a puppet or a slave.
So as soon as the sun will shine.
Im gonna get my shine out whats mine.
And then the harder they come, the harder they fall.
One and all. (its true)
Oh! the harder they come, the harder they fall.
One and all.
Oh! the harder they come, the harder they fall.
One and all. (what I say, now what I say)
The harder they come, the harder they fall.
One and all.
[instrumental]
The harder they come, the harder they fall.
One and all.
Oh! the harder they come, the harder they fall.
One and all. (yes.)
The harder they come, the harder they fall.
One and all. (what I say.)
The harder they come, the harder they fall.
One and all.
Oh! the harder they come, the harder they fall.
One and all. (what I say.)
The harder they come, the harder they fall.
One and all.
song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The only power deserving the name is that of masses, and of governments while they make themselves the organ of the tendencies and instincts of masses.
quote by John Stuart Mill
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ivory Towers
In ivory towers they sit
Oblivious to the world outside
The decisions makers huddle
Anyone who questions them
Receives double talk and gibberish in return
Always ending that, we are right you know
Continuous Governments
Feed the masses with pork pies
Those silly stump holes
Don’t seem to realise
The majority of the masses
See through their thin disguise
If they were to see
What the masses see
Maybe their decisions might change
Making it easier to live
And give a better life
To the likes of you and I
poem by David Harris
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The Racial Gun!
the racial gun
has always been pointed
at the masses....
by those who control us
for their own benefit.
'keep them afraid of each other,
make them hate each other,
tell them they're different! ....
anything to keep them
from realizing they're all human,
and joining together! '
anything to keep us from rising up,
and throwing off the chains
of oppression!
folks, there's only two kinds of people....
the masses, struggling, working, needing,
living, loving... just trying to get by....
all different colors, male and female....
and the ones who keep their finger on us,
well hidden, well insulated....
who take from us to feed their greed!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Life of a Roman Catholic Priest
A priest is nearest Christ;
A priest is Christ at times;
A priest is almost Christ;
A priest is most divine.
A priest is God’s shepherd;
A priest must tend to flock;
A priest must be like ‘rock’;
A priest should ne’er defrock.
A priest communes with God;
A priest draws hope from Lord;
A priest shows love of Christ;
A priest carries His Cross!
A priest is tempted too;
A priest has falls in life;
A priest falters also;
A priest has strength from Christ.
A priestly job is tough;
A priest’s life can turn rough;
A priest has strife enough,
But has to smile and laugh!
A priest helps harvest souls;
A priest has many roles;
A priest has but one goal –
To drink from Christ’s own bowl!
Pray that more priests should come;
May priests curb their freedom;
May priest usher Kingdom;
A life for Christ’s welcome.
Fondly dedicated to Rev. Fr. Xavier Claudius,
Beloved Parish priest, ‘Holy Family Church, Perundurai
Copyright by Dr John Celes 25-7-2010
poem by John Celes
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But the question is to find and rear leaders that are really one with the masses. This can only be accomplished by the masses, the political parties and the Trade Unions, by means of the most severe struggle, also inwardly.
quote by Herman Gorter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Luke's Wall/War Pigs
Generals gathered in their masses
just like witches at black masses
evil minds that plot destruction
sorcerers of death's construction
in the fields the bodies burning as the war machine keeps turning
death and hatred to mankind
poisoning their brainwashed minds... Oh lord yeah!
Politicians hide themselves away
they only started the war
Why should they go out to fight?
They leave that role to the poor
Time will tell on their power minds
Making war just for fun
Treating people just like pawns in chess
Wait 'till their judgement day comes
song performed by by Black Sabbath from Paranoid
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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