En.Citatepedia^®.ro

God And The Gas Pumps...........[religion; creation; short]

Now I'll bet God never pumped gas into a car, nor did He check the oil.
It's hard to believe He ever worked at any gas station doing manual toil.
And yet I've thought of a link that binds gas pumps and the Man Above.
The same Guy who sent the flood to Noah. Noah's the one who sent out a dove.

It matters not whether you believe the Earth is billions of years or only thousands of years old.
In church, as a boy, I learned God made all things. That's what I was told.
He was all-powerful according to the minister. He didn't need long to make stuff.
He could have put pools of oil underground and waited patiently, sitting on His duff, .......(take any dictionary definition of "duff" you please) ...to see how long it would take for parrots, or wolves, or men to pump it out.
Or he could have let Nature form petroleum from decayed fragile grasses and trees most stout.

So remember...., your electricity at home may come from wind or solar power or coal.....,
but most of your cars run with gas created SOME HOW by God, the Guy who gave YOU a soul.

(Nov.2012)

poem by Bri Edwards
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Parafake: The 'Word'.....[English language; 'new' word]

My wife used the "word" parafake, one evening in our bed.
Now don't get any nasty idea she was speaking of ME, in your nasty head.
In fact I don't believe either of us recall, of WHAT she was speaking,
and "parafake" isn't even a word in my dictionary. I know; I went peeking.

There is paraffin and paraformaldehyde, and parakeet of course,
but I could not find parafake; nor was there parahorse.
So I looked up "para", which turns out to be some sort of money.
Then I looked up the prefix "para- (or par-) ", with no definitions that were funny.
The prefix definitions range from "beside" and "beyond", to "incorrect",
to "a diatomic molecule" which, without super-eyes, I could NOT detect.
Well there was one definition of para-, the prefix, which I thought would fit.
"Para" can mean "assistant" (such as in paralegal) . On that definition I bit.

So then I looked up "fake" in my dictionary to try to pin down "parafake".
Guess what. There are widely varying definitions of "fake", for goodness sake!
Well I've chosen the definition of fake which is "one that is not genuine".
Therefore I say a "parafake" is an "assistant to one that is not genuine". If you don't agree, that is fine.
So a paralegal would be a parafake if her boss had no law degree, and
a vintner's assistant would be a parafake if his boss neither made NOR sold wine. You SEE?

(Nov.2012)

poem by Bri Edwards
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My Friend, The Parking Lot Attendant

—he's a dandy
—small moustache
—usually sucking on a cigar

he tends to lean into cars as he
transacts business

first time I met him, he said,
"hey! ya gonna make a
killin'?"

"maybe," I answered.

next meeting it was:
"hey, Ramrod! what's
happening?"

"very little," I told
him.

next time I had my girlfriend with me
and he just
grinned.

next time I was
alone.

"hey," he asked, "where's the young
chick?"

"I left her at home...."

"Bullshit! I'll bet she dumped
you!"

and the next time
he really leaned into the car:

"what's a guy like you doing driving a
BMW! I'll bet you inherited your
money, you didn't get this car with your
brains!"

"how'd you guess?" I
answered.

that was some weeks ago.
I haven't seen him lately.
feIlow like that, chances are he just moved on
to better
things.

poem by Charles Bukowski
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The Seventh Day

Forget not the day of the Sabbath,
Its mention is like a pleasant offering.
During it the dove found resting place,
And there the weary may relax.
The day is honored by the Children of Faith,
Careful to observe it are fathers and sons.
Engraved upon two tablets of stone,
From great power and mighty strength.
And they all came in Covenant together,
In unison they said, "We shall do and we shall listen."
And they commenced and answered, "God is One,"
Blessed is He that gives strength to the weary.
He spoke in His holiness by the mountain of Mohr spice
"Remember and guard the seventh day."
And all of his commandments to be completed together
Strengthen the loins and gather up power.
The nation that is in motion, like lost sheep,
By covenant He will remember to recall it,
So that an evil happening may not befall them,
Just as You have sworn by the waters of Noah.

poem by Yehudah HaLevi
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Betrothed

You have put your two hands upon me, and your mouth,
You have said my name as a prayer.
Here where trees are planted by the water
I have watched your eyes, cleansed from regret,
And your lips, closed over all that love cannot say,

My mother remembers the agony of her womb
And long years that seemed to promise more than this.
She says, "You do not love me,
You do not want me,
You will go away."

In the country whereto I go
I shall not see the face of my friend
Nor her hair the color of sunburnt grasses;
Together we shall not find
The land on whose hills bends the new moon
In air traversed of birds.

What have I thought of love?
I have said, "It is beauty and sorrow."
I have thought that it would bring me lost delights, and splendor
As a wind out of old time . . .

But there is only the evening here,
And the sound of willows
Now and again dipping their long oval leaves in the water.

poem by Louise Bogan
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Nothing Greater Than Love

(9/9/12)

There is nothing greater than love
Not the earth, the moon, the stars above
GOD decided to make the heavens and the earth
To be there when to man he would give birth.

All that he made - he knew was good
But he had to give something to man
That would be understood.

He gave it time for man to adjust to all that he had given
But needed something for them- to make life worth living
That is when he gave us his son
Greater than that - there could be none.

But with that greatness there was still something
That he had to give man "so he created love".
His son was the first to fully understand
What love was about
and held his father in his heart
Of that there is no doubt.

All trials and errors that he had been put thru
Could not shake the love that he had for his fellow man
Which is something that we've learned to understand.

From his GODLY father to his earthly parents
Who loved him more than life
Had made many a sacrifice.

JOSEPH took MARY his virgin wife
Because of an angel who showed him the light.
It may have been hard for him to accept that fact
But the love for GOD took care of that.

This was the beginning of infinite love
Created by GOD above
And showed through his only son
Who would affect everyone.

In his eyes there were no bad people
Just misled people, and with each of his steps
He turned it around - and in the streets
His followers could be found.

Because of this we learned that other things
Go hand in hand with love
We learned compassion, forgiveness, hope, and faith
And to truly love "this is what it takes".

Now I ask you this "look at the life you live"
Is there love in your heart?

I may not have it all, but I'll pick up
Everything that falls
And spread the love that GOD has given
And make my life "truly worth living".

© L.RAMS

poem by Louis Rams
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Well Water

What a girl called "the dailiness of life"
(Adding an errand to your errand. Saying,
"Since you're up . . ." Making you a means to
A means to a means to) is well water
Pumped from an old well at the bottom of the world.
The pump you pump the water from is rusty
And hard to move and absurd, a squirrel-wheel
A sick squirrel turns slowly, through the sunny
Inexorable hours. And yet sometimes
The wheel turns of its own weight, the rusty
Pump pumps over your sweating face the clear
Water, cold, so cold! you cup your hands
And gulp from them the dailiness of life.

poem by Randall Jarrell
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Menses

(He speaks, but to himself, being aware how it is with her)
Think not I have not heard.
Well-fanged the double word
And well-directed flew.

I felt it. Down my side
Innocent as oil I see the ugly venom slide:
Poison enough to stiffen us both, and all our friends;
But I am not pierced, so there the mischief ends.

There is more to be said: I see it coiling;
The impact will be pain.
Yet coil; yet strike again.
You cannot riddle the stout mail I wove
Long since, of wit and love.

As for my answer . . . stupid in the sun
He lies, his fangs drawn:
I will not war with you.

You know how wild you are. You are willing to be turned
To other matters; you would be grateful, even.
You watch me shyly. I (for I have learned
More things than one in our few years together)
Chafe at the churlish wind, the unseasonable weather.

"Unseasonable?" you cry, with harsher scorn
Than the theme warrants; "Every year it is the same!
'Unseasonable!' they whine, these stupid peasants!—and never
since they were born
Have they known a spring less wintry! Lord, the shame,
The crying shame of seeing a man no wiser than the beasts he
feeds—
His skull as empty as a shell!"

("Go to. You are unwell.")

Such is my thought, but such are not my words.

"What is the name," I ask, "of those big birds
With yellow breast and low and heavy flight,
That make such mournful whistling?"

"Meadowlarks,"
You answer primly, not a little cheered.
"Some people shoot them." Suddenly your eyes are wet
And your chin trembles. On my breast you lean,
And sob most pitifullly for all the lovely things that are not and
have been.

"How silly I am!—and I know how silly I am!"
You say; "You are very patient. You are very kind.
I shall be better soon. Just Heaven consign and damn
To tedious Hell this body with its muddy feet in my mind!"

poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay
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Sue In The Stew

In my "Stew" my "Stew of Goo" I will have control over you.
Yes, I will control you with my evil spell,
I will control this doll with named Mel.
I will say things that are not NICE,
you see I took your Power and I control the Dice!
Everything is "neat" in this "Game of Deceit"
This Game where I control everything.
Yes, I took your power that you willfully gave to me,
that was Deal, don't you see? ? ?
Don't tell me you want your Power intact,
You chose me as your mother! !
So I can talk behind your back! !
Now, now, you say "Why would I do that? "
You had to find yourself and get back on track...
See how would you ever know who you really are.
"Why, you think you came into this world complete like Sarah Star? ? ? "
You needed my "Evil" ways to make you strong,
you can thank ME when I am long gone...
Now, now you realize it wasn't about ME,
why it was all about YOU,
Yes you finding You—"YOU in the Stew"

Written By Suzae Chevalier in 2006 & 2010

poem by Christina Sunrise
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It Was a Famous Victory

It was a summer evening;
Old Kaspar was at home,
Sitting before his cottage door--
Like in the Southey pome--
And near him, with a magazine,
Idled his grandchild, Geraldine.

"Wy don't you ask me," Kaspar said
To the child upon the floor,
"Why don't you ask me what I did
When I was in the war?
They told me that each little kid
Would surely ask me what I did.

"I've had my story ready
For thirty years or more."
"Don't bother, Grandpa," said the child;
"I find such things a bore.
Pray leave me to my magazine,"
Asserted little Geraldine.

Then entered little Peterkin,
To whom the gaffer said:
"You'd like to hear about the war?
How I was left for dead?"
"No. And, besides," declared the youth,
"How do I know you speak the truth?"

Arose the Wan, embittered man,
The hero of this pome,
And walked, with not unsprightly step,
Down to the Soldiers' Home,
Where he, with seven other men,
Sat swapping lies till half-past ten.

poem by Franklin P. Adams
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I Saw An Old Image In My Mind - Noah's Ark

I saw an old image of my mind Noah's Ark
Fading in the wilderness of the sky
I touched the land with my dreams
And nothing I knew said it was real-
I heard the sounds of songs of delight
And remembered the Creator in the days of my youth-
I listened to the poems long in the hearing time of my mind
And I waited as I wondered why and we are all destinies not struggling to be free-
I thought I lived
They were branches of other trees
An old man’s folly can never capture -
The first wonder of an infant eyeing through branches the lips of the sky -
We are wonders and dreamings and seemings and always being beyond what we are not-
And when our lives are done in this last world
God who made branches and trees and Noah’s ark and the leaves of the first land
Will remember to make us see again,
As if we were always Light and more Light and Still more Light
Heading out again through another lost wilderness.

poem by Shalom Freedman
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The Biggest Flood

The Biggest Flood

Pakistan, the biggest flood ever recorded the newscaster tells me,
has he forgotten about the biblical flood and Noah?
I could be that after years of flooding in Noahland that he got
the idea of building a boat, big enough for his family and cattle.
Of course his neighbours thought he had lost it, his sons too were
skeptical but helped their father building a wide hulled boat;
in the inn at night they often got into fist fights, when funny
remarks were made about their father’s crazy venture.
After weeks of rain he boarded and boat and it didn’t sink.
When the rain stopped and the sky was clear all Noah could see
was water everywhere. Not a navigator Noah just drifted about
hoping to find land; and as water level fell he hit a reef which
turned out to be a grassy mountain slope. The biblical story is
certainly true, if it isn’t it is still worth thinking about its wisdom.

poem by Oskar Hansen
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Abelard and Heloïse

["There are so many things I want to talk to you about." Abelard probably said to Heloïse, "but how can I when I can only think about kissing you?" --KATHARINE LANE in the Evening Mail.]

Said Abelard to Heloïse:
"Your tresses blowing in the breeze
Enchant my soul; your cheek allures;
I never knew such lips as yours."

Said Heloïse to Abelard:
"I know that it is cruel, hard,
To make you fold your yearning arms
And think of things besides my charms."

Said Abelard to Heloïse:
"Pray, lets discuss the Portuguese;
Their status in the League of Nations.
. . . . Come, slip me seven osculations.
"The Fourteen Points," said Heloïse,
"Are pure Woodrovian fallacies."
Said Abelard: "Ten times fourteen
The points you have, O beaucoup queen!"

"Lay off," said Heloïse, "all that stuff.
I've heard the same old thing enough."
"But," answered Abelard, "your lips
Put all my thoughts into eclipse."

"O Abelard," said Heloïse,
"Don't take so many liberties."
"I do it but to show regard."

And Heloïse told her chum that night
That Abelard was Awful Bright;
And--thus is drawn the cosmic plan--
She loved an Intellectual Man.

poem by Franklin P. Adams
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Small Cog In A Big Wheel?

We're told;
One person is puny and has no power;
"Your just a small cog in a big wheel"
Cosmic-clock soon chimes the final hour,
When all create again, from hearts who feel

"Big plans" give way to "Simply doing"
For God/Mother Earth always provide
Jesus shall minister once more;
Whilst (out back) the crowd is booing,
He's learned by now;
"Take everything in stride"

"As the season turns, turns, turns"
After dry-chaff burns, burns, burns;
Renewal!
God's gift to everyone;
Father,
Mother,
Daughter,
Son

ROTMS

View ROTMS writings, images a video at;

rotms.blogspot.com

poem by Ray Lucero
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Mom

"Hello mom, " I said "It's me"
"California set me free"
She just laughed and said "I knew"
Said I was one of the few
Who could make it anywhere
Go through life without a care
Which I can I know for sure
For in my heart I am pure
We talked for a long, long while
Which is really not my style
Then just before our goodbyes
She started in with the lies
About how good life had been
How she gave up on the gin
Then I heard a word she slurred
That moment my world was blurred
Was I to ignore the call
Or stop her from her sure fall
It pains me every day
That I didn't even pray
For we never spoke again
That's the source of all my pain

poem by Paul H Nelson
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The Ape And God

Son put a poser up to me
That made me scratch my head:
"God made the whole wide world," quoth he;
"That's right, my boy," I said.
Said son: "He mad the mountains soar,
And all the plains lie flat;
But Dad, what did he do before
He did all that?

Said I: "Creation was his biz;
He set the stars to shine;
The sun and moon and all that is
Were His unique design.
The Cosmos is his concrete thought,
The Universe his chore..."
Said Son: "I understand, but what
Did He before?"

I gave it up; I could not cope
With his enquiring prod,
And must admit I've little hope
Of understanding God.
Indeed I find more to my mind
The monkey in the tree
In whose crude form Nature defined
Our human destiny.

Thought I: "Why search for Deity
In visionary shape?
'Twould better be if we could see
The angel in the ape.
Let mystic seek a God above:
Far wiser he who delves,
To find in kindliness and love
God in ourselves."

poem by Robert William Service
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Baby Sitter

From torrid heat to frigid cold
I've rovered land and sea;
And now, with halting heart I hold
My grandchild on my knee:
Yet while I've eighty years all told,
Of moons she has but three.

She sleeps, that fragile miniature
Of future maidenhood;
She will be wonderful, I'm sure,
As over her I brood;
She is so innocent, so pure,
I know she will be good.

My way I've won from woe to weal,
And hard has been the fight;
Yet in my ingle-nook I feel
A wondrous peace to-night;
And over me serenely steal
Warm waves of love and light.

"What sloppy stuff!" I hear you say.
"Give us a lusty song."
Alas! I'm bent and gnarled and grey,--
My life may not be long:
Yet let its crown of glory be
This child upon me knee.

poem by Robert William Service
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At Lulworth Cove a Century Back

Had I but lived a hundred years ago
I might have gone, as I have gone this year,
By Warmwell Cross on to a Cove I know,
And Time have placed his finger on me there:

"You see that man?" -- I might have looked, and said,
"O yes: I see him. One that boat has brought
Which dropped down Channel round Saint Alban's Head.
So commonplace a youth calls not my thought."

"You see that man?" -- "Why yes; I told you; yes:
Of an idling town-sort; thin; hair brown in hue;
And as the evening light scants less and less
He looks up at a star, as many do."

"You see that man?" -- "Nay, leave me!" then I plead,
"I have fifteen miles to vamp across the lea,
And it grows dark, and I am weary-kneed:
I have said the third time; yes, that man I see!"

"Good. That man goes to Rome -- to death, despair;
And no one notes him now but you and I:
A hundred years, and the world will follow him there,
And bend with reverence where his ashes lie."

poem by Thomas Hardy
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Wine and Water

Old Noah he had an ostrich farm and fowls on the largest scale,
He ate his egg with a ladle in a egg-cup big as a pail,
And the soup he took was Elephant Soup and fish he took was Whale,
But they all were small to the cellar he took when he set out to sail,
And Noah he often said to his wife when he sat down to dine,
"I don't care where the water goes if it doesn't get into the wine."

The cataract of the cliff of heaven fell blinding off the brink
As if it would wash the stars away as suds go down a sink,
The seven heavens came roaring down for the throats of hell to drink,
And Noah he cocked his eye and said, "It looks like rain, I think,
The water has drowned the Matterhorn as deep as a Mendip mine,
But I don't care where the water goes if it doesn't get into the wine."

But Noah he sinned, and we have sinned; on tipsy feet we trod,
Till a great big black teetotaller was sent to us for a rod,
And you can't get wine at a P.S.A., or chapel, or Eisteddfod,
For the Curse of Water has come again because of the wrath of God,
And water is on the Bishop's board and the Higher Thinker's shrine,
But I don't care where the water goes if it doesn't get into the wine.

poem by Gilbert Keith Chesterton
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The Colonel's Solilquy.

"The quay recedes. Hurrah! Ahead we go! . . .
It's true I've been accustomed now to home,
And joints get rusty, and one's limbs may grow
More fit to rest than roam.

"But I can stand as yet fair stress and strain;
There's not a little steel beneath the rust;
My years mount somewhat, but here's to't again!
And if I fall, I must.

"God knows that for myself I've scanty care;
Past scrimmages have proved as much to all;
In Eastern lands and South I've had my share
Both of the blade and ball.

"And where those villains ripped me in the flitch
With their old iron in my early time,
I'm apt at change of wind to feel a twitch,
Or at a change of clime.

"And what my mirror shows me in the morning
Has more of blotch and wrinkle than of bloom;
My eyes, too, heretofore all glasses scorning,
Have just a touch of rheum . . .

"Now sounds 'The Girl I've left behind me,'--Ah,
The years, the ardours, wakened by that tune!
Time was when, with the crowd's farewell 'Hurrah!'
'Twould lift me to the moon.

"But now it's late to leave behind me one
Who if, poor soul, her man goes underground,
Will not recover as she might have done
In days when hopes abound.

"She's waving from the wharfside, palely grieving,
As down we draw . . . Her tears make little show,
Yet now she suffers more than at my leaving
Some twenty years ago.

"I pray those left at home will care for her!
I shall come back; I have before; though when
The Girl you leave behind you is a grandmother,
Things may not be as then."

poem by Thomas Hardy
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In Memoriam A. H. H.: 45. The baby new to earth and sky

The baby new to earth and sky,
What time his tender palm is prest
Against the circle of the breast,
Has never thought that "this is I":
But as he grows he gathers much,
And learns the use of "I," and "me,"
And finds "I am not what I see,
And other than the things I touch."
So rounds he to a separate mind
From whence clear memory may begin,
As thro' the frame that binds him in
His isolation grows defined.

This use may lie in blood and breath
Which else were fruitless of their due,
Had man to learn himself anew
Beyond the second birth of Death.

poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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