To a Millionaire
The world in gloom and splendour passes by,
And thou in the midst of it with brows that gleam,
A creature of that old distorted dream
That makes the sound of life an evil cry.
Good men perform just deeds, and brave men die,
And win not honour such as gold can give,
While the vain multitudes plod on, and live,
And serve the curse that pins them down: But I
Think only of the unnumbered broken hearts,
The hunger and the mortal strife for bread,
Old age and youth alike mistaught, misfed,
By want and rags and homelessness made vile,
The griefs and hates, and all the meaner parts
That balance thy one grim misgotten pile.
poem by Archibald Lampman
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The Treasures Of The Deep
What hid'st thou in thy treasure-caves and cells?
Thou hollow-sounding and mysterious main!
-Pale glistening pearls, and rainbow-colour'd shells,
Bright things which gleam unreck'd-of, and in vain!
-Keep, keep thy riches, melancholy sea!
We ask not such from thee.
Yet more, the depths have more!-what wealth untold,
Far down, and shining through their stillness lies!
Thou hast the starry gems, the burning gold,
Won from ten thousand royal Argosies!
-Sweep o'er thy spoils, thou wild and wrathful main!
Earth claims not these again.
Yet more, the depths have more!-thy waves have roll'd
Above the cities of a world gone by!
Sand hath fill'd up the palaces of old,
Sea-weed o'ergrown the halls of revelry.
-Dash o'er them, ocean! in thy scornful play!
Man yields them to decay.
Yet more! the billows and the depths have more!
High hearts and brave are gather'd to thy breast!
They hear not now the booming waters roar,
The battle thunders will not break their rest.
-Keep thy red gold and gems, thou stormy grave!
Give back the true and brave!
Give back the lost and lovely!-those for whom
The place was kept at board and hearth so long,
The prayer went up through midnight's breathless gloom,
And the vain yearning woke 'midst festal song!
Hold fast thy buried Isles, thy towers o'erthrown-
But all is not thine own.
To thee the love of woman hath gone down,
Dark flow thy tides o'er manhood's noble head,
O'er youth's bright locks, and beauty's flowery crown,
-Yet must thou hear a voice-restore the dead!
Earth shall reclaim her precious things from thee!
-Restore the dead, thou sea!
poem by Felicia Dorothea Hemans
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The Splendour And The Curse Of Song
Methought the unknown God we seek in vain
Grew weary of the evil He had wrought—
The piteous litanies of human pain—
Till here and there some lonely souls He sought
To bear the message of Immortal Thought,
And sent them forth to wander ’midst the throng
Crowned with the splendour and the curse of Song.
But that which still was kindred to the stars
Fought with the flesh and moaned within its cell,
And beat its wings against its prison bars.
Thus, soaring oft to heights sublime, they fell,
Dragged by the flesh into the gulfs of hell;
Till all their days were as a tumult long
Between the splendour and the curse of Song.
Yet often ’mid the fever of distress
Some singer’s lips would chant so sweet a strain
That storm-tossed souls forgot their weariness,
And comfort crept about the bed of pain,
And men took heart and dreamt of heaven again;
And to the weak came hope and courage strong
Born of the beauty and the balm of Song.
But Life was bitter to the lips that sung;
And heavier on those souls the curse did grow
Who strove to speak to men an unknown tongue,
And mournfully their hearts did weigh and know
The measure of the whole world’s cruel woe,
And wearily they fared Time’s path along
Vexed by the splendour and the curse of Song.
Theirs was the homeless hunger of the heart—
Immortal thought within a mortal breast,
Listless they wandered through the crowded mart,
Who to a careless world had given their best;
And when Death lulled them with his wings to rest
What reeked they where they slumbered calm and strong
Crowned with the splendour of Immortal Song?
poem by George Essex Evans
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Faith
Since all that is was ever bound to be;
Since grim, eternal laws our Being bind;
And both the riddle and the answer find,
And both the carnage and the calm decree;
Since plain within the Book of Destiny
Is written all the journey of mankind
Inexorably to the end; since blind
And mortal puppets playing parts are we:
Then let's have faith; good cometh out of ill;
The power that shaped the strife shall end the strife;
Then let's bow down before the Unknown Will;
Fight on, believing all is well with life;
Seeing within the worst of War's red rage
The gleam, the glory of the Golden Age.
poem by Robert William Service
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Rotaract
The youth has power to do things well;
The youth has ideas quite swell;
The youth has energy to sell;
The youth has done so well, times tell.
Begin to think and do while young;
The world needs minds and hearts of gold;
Think of your unlucky neighbor;
Help him to live in a better way.
All good things needs to start from scratch;
All should not stay selfish on earth;
All must help shape the world around;
All must have selfless common ground!
All people aren't hale and hearty;
The world goes on by hierarchy;
Millions of brethren live in strife;
You must do charity in life!
The Rotaract affords this chance;
You can hard-work and sing and dance;
Don't look at downtrodden askance;
You must take up a better stance!
The world has umptine diseases;
Poverty afflicts myriad souls;
The problems people face are great;
Can you not make the world better?
The world at large in hunger lies;
Unsheltered masses sadly die;
Social evils afill the world;
Misery plagues people untold.
The youth must become good adults;
The environs must be better;
There's time for you and fellow-men;
Begin today and make the change!
Work for the common man's welfare;
Feel satisfied in life and act;
Think of the unfortunate ones;
Get God's reward for things you do!
‘Start a new Rotaract club and serve the needy souls! '
Copyright by Dr John Celes 10-10-12
poem by John Celes
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On The Silent Wings Of Freedom
On the silent wings of freedom
Where I ofer myself midst the balancing of the sun
On the winds of celestial seasons
That would carry me on, midst the balance of being one
On the dream of our love eternal
That will eventually bring our living once more with you
Where we are coming from
Or where we go
We only know e come with sound
Where we are coming from
Or where we go
We only know we go around and around
On the back of your forty-second screamdown
Do you choose to be lost midst the challenge of being one
On the flight of regardless feelings
As you hurtle to fear midst the challenge of everyone
On the darkest night so painful
Do you hunger for love midst the torture of being one
On the passing light of easing
Have you seen you inside midst the being of everyone
To the common goal of freedom
Where we offer ourselves midst the balancing of the sun
Where we are coming froom
Or where we go
We only know we come with sound
Where we are coming from
Or where we go
We only know we go around and around
song performed by by Yes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On The Silent Wings Of Freedom
On the silent wings of freedom
Where I ofer myself midst the balancing of the sun
On the winds of celestial seasons
That would carry me on, midst the balance of being one
On the dream of our love eternal
That will eventually bring our living once more with you
Where we are coming from
Or where we go
We only know e come with sound
Where we are coming from
Or where we go
We only know we go around and around
On the back of your forty-second screamdown
Do you choose to be lost midst the challenge of being one
On the flight of regardless feelings
As you hurtle to fear midst the challenge of everyone
On the darkest night so painful
Do you hunger for love midst the torture of being one
On the passing light of easing
Have you seen you inside midst the being of everyone
To the common goal of freedom
Where we offer ourselves midst the balancing of the sun
Where we are coming froom
Or where we go
We only know we come with sound
Where we are coming from
Or where we go
We only know we go around and around
song performed by by Yes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Another For The Briar-Rose
O treacherous scent, O thorny sight,
O tangle of world’s wrong and right,
What art thou ’gainst my armour’s gleam
But dusky cobwebs of a dream?
Beat down, deep sunk from every gleam
Of hope, they lie and dully dream;
Men once, but men no more, that Love
Their waste defeated hearts should move.
Here sleeps the world that would not love!
Let it sleep on, but if He move
Their hearts in humble wise to wait
On his new-wakened fair estate.
O won at last is never late!
Thy silence was the voice of fate;
Thy still hands conquered in the strife;
Thine eyes were light; thy lips were life.
poem by William Morris
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The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part II: To Juliet: XXIII
ASKING FOR HER HEART
Give me thy heart, Juliet, give me thy heart!
I have a need of it, an absolute need,
Because my own heart has thus long been dead.
I live but by thy life. The very smart
Of this new pain which has been born of thee
Is thine, thy own great pleasure's counterpart.
I stand before thee naked. Clothe thou me.
Bring out a robe,--thy truth, thy chastity.
Put rings upon my fingers,--honour's meed.
For thou canst give, nor ever reck the cost,
Being the royal creature that thou art,
The fountain of all honour, whose high boast
Is to be greatest when thou givest most.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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You Changed My Life
You changed my life
Came along in a time of strife
In hunger and need
You made my heart bleed
You changed my life
You changed my life
Now the nature of man
Is to beg and to steal
Id do it myself
Its not so unreal
The call of the wilds
Forever at my door
Want me to fly like an eagle
Being chained to the floor, but
You changed my life
Came along in a time of strife
In hunger and need
You made my heart bleed
You changed my life
You changed my life
Eating with the pigs
Off a fancy tray
I was bold, I was looking good
And to have a nice day
It all seemed so proper
And so elite
Eating absolute garbage
While being so discreet.
You changed my life
Came along in a time of strife
In hunger and need
You made my heart bleed
You changed my life
You changed my life
You were glowing in the light
Being peaceably calm
Well, how often does a man dance
To the beat of the balm?
Your eyes were on fire
Your feet were of brass
In a world that you made
You were an outcast
You changed my life
Came along in a time of strife
In hunger and need
You made my heart bleed
You changed my life
You changed my life
Truce makers and partakers
Of every selfish whim
Her running to meet me running to her
And you running back to him
Their destruction of my confidence
Was like a sharpness of the tongue
I said: make my faith greater
But I was a little high strung
You changed my life
Came along in a time of strife
In hunger and need
You made my heart bleed
You changed my life
You changed my life
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To A Buddha Seated On A Lotus
LORD BUDDHA, on thy Lotus-throne,
With praying eyes and hands elate,
What mystic rapture dost thou own,
Immutable and ultimate?
What peace, unravished of our ken,
Annihilate from the world of men?
The wind of change for ever blows
Across the tumult of our way,
To-morrow's unborn griefs depose
The sorrows of our yesterday.
Dream yields to dream, strife follows strife,
And Death unweaves the webs of Life.
For us the travail and the heat,
The broken secrets of our pride,
The strenuous lessons of defeat,
The flower deferred, the fruit denied;
But not the peace, supremely won,
Lord Buddha, of thy Lotus-throne.
With futile hands we seek to gain
Our inaccessible desire,
Diviner summits to attain,
With faith that sinks and feet that tire;
But nought shall conquer or control
The heavenward hunger of our soul.
The end, elusive and afar,
Still lures us with its beckoning flight,
And all our mortal moments are
A session of the Infinite.
How shall we reach the great, unknown
Nirvana of thy Lotus-throne?
poem by Sarojini Naidu
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Sonnet- God's Creation Is Good
Each flower has some nectar for each Bee;
Each flower has some beauty rather deep;
Each flower has some perfume that is free;
Each flower makes the observer's heart leap.
All religions have good precepts to give;
All religions depict God's love for men;
All religions help mankind better live;
All religions show men way to Heaven.
We ought to take the good things in our life;
We ought to shun all evil thoughts and deeds;
We ought to face in life all kinds of strife;
We ought to plant, to reap better, good seeds.
God made all things with definite purpose,
Expecting man's soul come back in pure dress.
poem by John Celes
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All For The Cause
Hear a word, a word in season,
for the day is drawing nigh,
When the Cause shall call upon us,
some to live, and some to die!
He that dies shall not die lonely,
many an one hath gone before;
He that lives shall bear no burden
heavier than the life they bore.
Nothing ancient is their story,
e’en but yesterday they bled,
Youngest they of earth’s beloved,
last of all the valiant dead.
E’en the tidings we are telling,
was the tale they had to tell,
E’en the hope that our hearts cherish,
was the hope for which they fell.
In the grave where tyrants thrust them,
lies their labour and their pain,
But undying from their sorrow
springeth up the hope again.
Mourn not therefore, nor lament it,
that the world outlives their life;
Voice and vision yet they give us,
making strong our hands for strife.
Some had name, and fame, and honour,
learn’d they were, and wise and strong;
Some were nameless, poor, unlettered,
weak in all but grief and wrong.
Named and nameless all live in us;
one and all they lead us yet
Every pain to count for nothing,
every sorrow to forget.
Hearken how they cry, “O happy,
happy ye that ye were born
In the sad slow night’s departing,
in the rising of the morn.
“Fair the crown the Cause hath for you,
well to die or well to live
Through the battle, through the tangle,
peace to gain or peace to give.”
Ah, it may be! Oft meseemeth,
in the days that yet shall be,
When no slave of gold abideth
’twixt the breadth of sea to sea,
Oft, when men and maids are merry,
ere the sunlight leaves the earth,
And they bless the day beloved,
all too short for all their mirth,
Some shall pause awhile and ponder
on the bitter days of old,
Ere the toil of strife and battle
overthrew the curse of gold;
Then ’twixt lips of loved and lover
solemn thoughts of us shall rise;
We who once were fools defeated,
then shall be the brave and wise.
There amidst the world new-builded
shall our earthly deeds abide,
Though our names be all forgotten,
and the tale of how we died.
Life or death then, who shall heed it,
what we gain or what we lose?
Fair flies life amid the struggle,
and the Cause for each shall choose.
Hear a word, a word in season,
for the day is drawing nigh,
When the Cause shall call upon us,
some to live, and some to die!
poem by William Morris
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Things To Be Balanced
Balance my heart between fast and slow beating rate,
Balance my wealth between the pauper and the rich state,
Balance my food between malnourished and overeating,
Balance my thought between weird and super serene.
Balance the car tyres to get aligned,
Balance the budget without any deficit,
Balance the love for the work and the family,
Balance the time between the recreations and duties.
Lord, Balance my posture of attitude at the altitude,
Balance my temperamental words when in multitude,
Balance the balance of deeds, on the judgment day,
by adding some good deeds or removing something bad.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Sonnet: The World Needs Justice
Tilt the balance I will, in ways I can:
Whenever justice is put in peril;
Till goodness succeeds over evil, man
Just like we triumph over the devil.
This world can’t take too much of unfairness;
Good things must happen much more than things bad;
Men cannot live always in much harness;
God, intervene Thou must, or we go mad!
How much of evil things can this world bear?
How long can righteous men be dishonored?
How long can people grievances not air?
Too much of gall hast Thou in our cup poured!
The world can’t go on in this way O Lord!
To live thus, common men cannot afford.
poem by John Celes
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Sonnet: On Calumny
Be thou a saint and yet the world won't spare;
Be thou most chaste and yet, most tongues will talk;
Be thou a crook and yet people don't care;
Be thou a tiger yet, some men will stalk.
Be thou cruel and yet the world will praise;
Be thou too kind and yet the world will taunt;
Be thou rigid and yet the world can't face;
Be thou timid and yet the world will haunt;
Be thou selfish and yet the world loves thee;
Be thou selfless and yet the world thee hates;
Be thou goodly and yet you are not free;
Be thou evil and yet the world thee mates.
Be thou yourself and yet the world finds fault;
Be thou anything, yet the world will vault.
poem by John Celes
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Clifton Chapel
This is the Chapel: here, my son,
Your father thought the thoughts of youth,
And heard the words that one by one
The touch of Life has turn’d to truth.
Here in a day that is not far,
You too may speak with noble ghosts
Of manhood and the vows of war
You made before the Lord of Hosts.
To set the cause above renown,
To love the game beyond the prize,
To honour, while you strike him down,
The foe that comes with fearless eyes;
To count the life of battle good,
And dear the land that gave you birth,
And dearer yet the brotherhood
That binds the brave of all the earth.—
My son, the oath is yours: the end
Is His, Who built the world of strife,
Who gave His children Pain for friend,
And Death for surest hope of life.
To-day and here the fight’s begun,
Of the great fellowship you’re free;
Henceforth the School and you are one,
And what You are, the race shall be.
God send you fortune: yet be sure,
Among the lights that gleam and pass,
You’ll live to follow none more pure
Than that which glows on yonder brass:
‘Qui procul hinc,’ the legend’s writ,—
The frontier-grave is far away—
‘Qui ante diem periit:
Sed miles, sed pro patria.’
poem by Sir Henry Newbolt
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What’s Up Yonder?
Friend did you ever truly ponder, the sky above and what’s up yonder?
Does your mind ever pierce the sky, to what’s up there and even why?
To a place you have never been, the place many call the third heaven.
A holy place where God resides, that’s well above the temporal skies.
High above these earthly clouds, are multitudes of Heavenly Crowds,
The many saints who went before, now in the presence of The Lord.
It’s a special place we are told, one that’s paved with streets of gold.
In this place flows a Crystal Sea, from under The Throne of Eternity.
And there will be a River of Life, that flows from the Throne of Christ.
On each side is a Tree of Life, for healing the nations of their strife.
There will be no more night, for The Lord God will give all men light.
Heaven’s Light will be His Son; He’s The Eternal Light for everyone.
But, is this place truly there, and why would a Holy God even care?
To extend to mere mortal men, a place for us, to live forever friend.
Heaven is a place that’s pure, and will remain that way forevermore.
A place that’s free of sin and strife, where all men live a blissful Life.
There we’ll have an eternal home, beside God’s Everlasting Throne.
On that Throne, above the sea, where Christ shall reign for Eternity.
Have you ever pondered friend, just where in eternity you will spend?
For Heaven is a place for sure; a place you get to through The Lord.
The curse of earth shall be gone, and replaced with an Eternal Song.
Eternal Praises to Christ our Lord, who upon a wicked cross endured,
A wicked death for both you and me, so that we could live for eternity.
It was His life Christ chose to give, so in Heaven forever we could live.
(Copyright ©12/2005)
All Our Trials
All our trials and all our strife, have their roots in our spiritual life,
Friend we are not just anyone, for we are the image of God’s Son.
We were created more than whole; we were given a body and a soul.
All other creation is as you see, but we have been made for Eternity.
Placed in a garden with no strife, and we were given Eternal Life.
With God man had unfettered fellowship, then Satan entered into it.
Satan’s ploy had caused man to fall, but that my friend was not all.
Being banished from Paradise, started for all men a world of strife.
God no longer walked with them, as their fellowship came to an end.
Outside the garden it got worse, for on the earth God put a curse.
One thing lost in all this strife, was man’s assurance of Eternal Life,
When man takes his last breath, without God, he faces Eternal Death.
It’s from Adam that we inherit sin, that causes us deep grief within.
Friend it is this sin that causes strife, affecting each and every life.
All wicked trials, big and small, can be traced back to Adam’s fall.
And all evil emotions deep within, stem from Adam’s original sin.
Just as Adam caused all men to fall, Christ came to redeem us all,
To redeem us from a market of sin, that causes us bondage within.
He came in the midst of our strife, to restore to all men Eternal Life,
And give to all an inner peace, and a relationship that won’t cease.
(Copyright ©02/2005)
Sonnet: The Potter Makes All Earthen Pots Alike
World’s mole-hill good is dwarfed by mountain bad!
The righteous few by countless evil hearts;
That God’s beside the upright makes us glad;
Do good all life, ignoring evil arts!
No instrument is evil by itself;
Its use by man decides its value true;
Man’s heart can be like angel or an elf;
The net result depends on what we do!
The man behind the machine decides use;
The mind behind an idea, abuse;
A gadget can better or worsen things;
Equal are paupers before God to kings!
The Potter makes all earthen pots alike:
The devils aid to earn divine dislike!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 11-15-2009
poem by John Celes
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Bible Stories: Job (Chapter XXI)
Then Job in reply said:
Just listen to my words, will you?
Some consolation, that can do;
Please bear with me for what I say;
And after that, mock me, you may.
Did I complain to any man?
What’s wrong with my impatience, then?
Be astonished on seeing me;
By horror afflicted truly.
Why wicked should survive on earth?
How powerful they stay since birth!
And grow up to a ripe old age
That can the righteous well enrage.
Their progeny secure always;
Come timely their kinsfolk’s birthdays;
Their homes are safe by night and day;
The scourge of God comes not their way.
Their cattle do not fail to thrive,
Stay children merrily alive;
They dance to tunes of timbrel, flute;
Songs accompanied by harp cute.
On earth, they prosper and flourish;
Although, they live lives so selfish;
They go down to the nether world,
Without the need for God though old.
They dare to tell God to depart;
They never learn His ways or art;
Why should they serve the Almighty?
Why should they pray so fervently?
Their happiness lies in their hands;
If God really hates their bands,
How often are their lamps put out?
They live in lucre and by clout.
Should they not be like straw in wind?
Should not all pity God rescind?
Shouldn’t they see their calamity,
And drink the wrath of Almighty?
And yet, they die with content hearts,
And rule over their counter-parts;
Their bones are richly marrow-ful;
They look like well-nourished a bull.
Can anyone teach God knowledge?
He is on high, the fairest Judge;
The righteous die with bitter souls,
Running all life between the poles.
And when they turn to dust at last,
In nether world, they’re too worm-cast;
Where is the house of the magnate?
And where’s the dwelling of wicked?
And monuments stand for wicked!
The poor has lived a life wretched;
The evil ones are spared all strife,
Until the end of earthly life.
Who will charge them for misconduct?
Will they repay for bad product?
The valley clods are sweet to them;
A funeral mound keeps watch o’er them.
A line of mankind follows him;
Their lives cannot be ever grim;
How can you offer vain comfort?
Your answers don’t console my heart!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 5-5-2007
poem by John Celes
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