Like Him Who Great reports Of Tilth Rejects
Like him who great reports of tilth rejects,
Because his own is a most barren field,
Is he who man’s divinity suspects,
Because his own soul doth so little yield.
Better is one who through himself can see
How good, how lovely, all mankind might be,
Though mere experience give his faith the lie,
And all his hopes breathe the world’s breath—to die!
poem by Charles Harpur
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Music
In vain, when music’s seraph-fire
Runs kindling through the air,
Making it such as gods respire,
(And gods perhaps are there!)
In vain would words of subtlest wit
Reveal, as on they roll,
The clouds of glory it hath lit
Like sunrise in the soul!
Like sunrise when its conquering glow
Smites through the vapours cold,
Till all their ragged inlets flow
With floods of burning gold.
--------------------------------- -----------------------------------------------
Like him who great reports of tilth rejects,
Because his own is a most barren field,
Is he who man’s divinity suspects,
Because his own soul doth so little yield.
Better is one who through himself can see
How good, how lovely, all mankind might be,
Though mere experience give his faith the lie,
And all his hopes breathe the world’s breath—to die!
poem by Charles Harpur
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This was Shakespeare's form; who walked in every path of human life, felt every passion; and to all mankind doth now, will ever, that experience yield which his own genius only could acquire.
quote by Mark Akenside
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ballad: Pope Benedict XVI in US,2008
The Apostle of peace had come:
Pope Benedict by name;
To US, where he was welcome,
With missionary aim.
‘Let faith in earthly life, God find;
Christ is the only hope,
For modern world, and all mankind, ’
Said Benedict, the Pope.
In doldrums lies, world of today;
Man’s faith in God is weak;
Most think that science has final say;
So, God, most men don’t seek.
‘Let faith in earthly life, God find;
Christ is the only hope,
For modern world, and all mankind, ’
Said Benedict, the Pope.
The family in danger lies;
Now love does not prevail;
As virtues are replaced by vice;
And freedom blows like gale.
‘Let faith in earthly life, God find;
Christ is the only hope,
For modern world, and all mankind, ’
Said Benedict, the Pope.
The quest for God is dying fast;
Rely men in own toil;
‘The mole is mound’- all sins of past!
Man’s soul is on the spoil.
‘Let faith in earthly life, God find;
Christ is the only hope,
For modern world, and all mankind, ’
Said Benedict, the Pope.
With fervent prayers, send your pleas,
To God who is above;
The caring God will surely ease
Your problems, with great love.
‘Let faith in earthly life, God find;
Christ is the only hope,
For modern world, and all mankind, ’
Said Benedict, the Pope.
Encounter living God in life;
Blessings will follow then;
God cares for you in any strife;
Keep eyes upon Heaven.
‘Let faith in earthly life, God find;
Christ is the only hope,
For modern world, and all mankind, ’
Said Benedict, the Pope.
Though holy is matrimony,
And sacrosanct is sex,
Man sins for sake of more money,
In ways that all can vex!
‘Let faith in earthly life, God find;
Christ is the only hope,
For modern world, and all mankind, ’
Said Benedict, the Pope.
Like love of God that radiates,
Let man’s heart do like-wise;
Let’s take the narrow road to Gates
Of Heaven; Be soul-wise!
‘Let faith in earthly life, God find;
Christ is the only hope,
For modern world, and all mankind, ’
Said Benedict, the Pope.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 4-23-2008
poem by John Celes
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Ale
Now do I hear thee weep and groan,
Who hath a comrade sunk at sea?
Then quaff thee of my good old ale,
And it will raise him up for thee;
Thoul't think as little of him then
As when he moved with living men.
If thou hast hopes to move the world,
And every effort it doth fail,
Then to thy side call Jack and Jim,
And bid them drink with thee good ale;
So may the world, that would not hear,
Perish in hell with all your care.
One quart of good ale, and I
Feel then what life immortal is:
The brain is empty of all thought,
The heart is brimming o'er with bliss;
Time's first child, Life, doth live; but Death,
The second, hath not yet his breath.
Give me a quart of good old ale,
Am I a homeless man on earth?
Nay, I want not your roof and quilt,
I'll lie warm at the moon's cold hearth;
No grumbling ghost to grudge my bed,
His grave, ha! ha! holds up my head.
poem by William Henry Davies
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The Poet's Possession
Think not, oh master of the well-tilled field,
This earth is only thine; for after thee,
When all is sown and gathered and put by,
Comes the grave poet with creative eye,
And from these silent acres and clean plots,
Bids with his wand the fancied after-yield,
A second tilth and second harvest, be,
The crop of images and curious thoughts.
poem by Archibald Lampman
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Love Field
You lie so unfolded
In a love field
With your contempt for any modesty
In a love field
In a love field
In a love field
You yield with your lips still sealed
In a love field
Lost in a sea of imaginary women
Everything youd want
From the dawn to the dimming
Breath comes sharp and heart beats faster
In a love field
Cold ground for a pillow
Under a blanket of stars
In a love field
In a love field
In a love field
Headlights that startled
This embrace of hours
In a love field
In a crooked house
Where things can be arranged
You think youre different from the rest
But you dont see how youve changed
Under an archway
On a road of white linen
In a love field
Feel the anxious rhythm of a functional stranger
In a love field
In a love field
In a love field
Shes so tense but its never mentioned
In a love field
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Never give in - never, never, never, never, in nothing great or small, large or petty, never give in except to convictions of honour and good sense. Never yield to force; never yield to the apparently overwhelming might of the enemy.
Winston Churchill in Speech, Harrow School (1941)
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Iam Never Quiting,
Iam Never Quiting,
Iam Never Quiting,
This STAR is able to see Maturity,
In this LIFE,
All the Greatness that God gave to Humanity,
I received this Image with a Meaning,
That we are Surpassing History,
A New Idea is Coming,
When Mankind will Face Eternity Rather than Death,
In all LOVELY that is upon most Souls,
This is the Revelation of a Moment,
When the Great Men will Never QUIT,
Follow TRUTH and see this DAY not a Quit,
It is my Breath that made this Day,
Let it Breathe and Turn Day's to Maturity than Ignorance,
LOVE than Racism,
All Races won with LOVE,
No more spirits from not UNDERSTANDING the WORD,
It came and now it is seen withing Human Face,
That most of us Never Understood what the King Meant,
What the Teacher gave to the Rest of Mankind.
poem by Maxim Muyu
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I Have No Place
I have no where to go and hide
The world has been torn apart and made wide
I have no face to reveal cruelty being inflicted
Divinity is shamed and faith is dissected
What is wrong with my appearance?
Lovely face and red cheeks by chance
Can no one take it as god gift at once?
Why at all outrage with beautiful flower with mad chase?
I am brought to disrespect and shame
Where do I cry and try to put the blame?
Who will listen to my woes and come to rescue?
Life is now in doldrums and needs honest review
Humanity is shamed for want of nothing
I am put to hell with no more soothing
Words don’t appeal me and frighten with cruel face
Is there any cause for me now to believe them in any case?
Who can help me to wake the soul?
That has been killed and witnessed by an owl
Night action performed with all form of nakedness
I could only cry to witness ugly scene of wickedness
I have no means to forgive them or condemn
As life may witness ugly turn and damn
I shall be pushed from wall to wall
Certainly a living hell to experience with fall
Nothing can be brought back now to normal
I am in deep shock and may now be crushed by windfall
I shall be hunted and vultures may be set for pounce of blood
What will be now open for me as reasonably good?
I know nothing about dark clouds
The words are spoken with fear and loud
I have nothing left in me to feel proud
Yet life can’t be thrown away and left out
I shall fight the world with positive aim
Ask for no mercy but certainly argue with no claim
Life can’t be ruined by vultures in open field
All females must unite and operate under shield
I may not be condemned as destitute or whore
But what else I can lead life for and explore?
There may be nothing good left in the store
As ladies may always be condemned for crying more
I need to expose the weakness of such elements
There may not be strong support with movements
Yet it has to be resisted with appeals and uprising
For lovely tomorrow and with lots more promising
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Just a little Faith...
Just a little faith can light your path
When everything seems dark,
Just a faith can push you forward
To achieve a higher mark..
Just a little faith can move a mountain
From its place
Just a little faith can assure you that
Life's challenges you CAN face..
Just a little faith can give you the courage
To reach your dream
Just a little faith can restore you confidence
and self esteem
Just a little faith can allow you to soar
Above the sky
Just a little faith can make you never give up,
and try, try and try, ,
Just a little faith can pull you up,
From rock bottom, straight to the top
Just a little faith can make a dying person
Once more alive
In a world which treats us as though we're nothing,
Just a little faith can make us SURVIVE........
Bless! !
poem by Original Soul
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The Creator And A Barren Woman
A barren woman had been praying for a child for long,
Then after many years without hope the Creator heard her prayers;
Then the Creator said to her: 'A year today you will give birth'.
This is the story of the Creator and a barren woman:
A year after the barren woman gave birth to a child.
Now, she started to complain again to the Creator;
Because, she has no time to take care of the child.
'Oh, i am too tired of taking care of this child';
And the Creator was very patience.
'Oh, i cannot take care of this child any longer';
And the Creator was very patience again.
'Oh, i have given my husband a child but i cannot take care of him';
This child was a son and then, the Creator said to the woman:
'When you were baren you did cried out for a child but,
Now that you've got one you also crying daily for his upkeep';
'Well, the wants of mankind are many and mankind is NOT satisfied'.
Yes, we are all living on this earth;
With stories and the things that we see around us;
But mankind is really NOT satisfied, whether barren or with a child.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Faith is an axiom
Faith is an axiom which is beyond proof.
Faith is a self-evident fact, a conviction, a belief which exists without a reason.
You put it to test, you fail. You cannot show the faith but you can certainly have one.
Hence, it is said to always “have faith” or to “keep faith”.
The more faith you have, the more hopes grow. The more hopes grow, the more optimism flows. The more optimism flows, the more confidence grows........so.....
Have faith in goodness and the good will soon follow.
Have faith in abundance and the riches will soon follow.
poem by Meetika Srivastava
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A blooming poem
A blooming poem
~
all the flowers in the garden
those wild in every field
the pallet of the sky and clouds
each a picture of beauty
does touch the soul
with all that is good
inspire the mind to think
only great thoughts
it is nature which nurtures
the way the world does grow
like the seeds in every field and garden
let the be sowed into every soul
poem by Matthew Holloway
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Sonnet LVII: Like As the Lute
Like as the lute that joys or else dislikes
As in his art that plays upon the same,
So sounds my Muse according as she strikes
On my heart strings high tun'd unto her fame.
Her touch doth cause the warble of the sound
Which here I yield in lamentable wise,
A wailing descant on the sweetest ground,
Whose due reports give honor to her eyes.
Else harsh my style, untunable my Muse,
Hoarse sounds the voice that praiseth not her name;
If any pleasing relish here I use,
Then judge the world her beauty gives the same.
O happy ground that makes the music such,
And blessed hand that gives so sweet a touch.
poem by Samuel Daniel
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There is magic in your nearness
There’s magic in your nearness
and the pleasure
of being with you
changes my world
You bring the best out of me
and let me perceive things
in a another way
and you
make me experience new things
and experiences.
With you the world
lies open before me
and it’s exceptional
to laugh with you
and to have you
as a part of each lovely day.
When you are with me
time rushes past,
while I get more and more
of your humanity
like the breath of life
to quench my soul.
poem by Gert Strydom
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A Breath I Cherish
I cherish your breath a lot.
As your breath is a sweet sob
That chimes out tales for a reverie.
Perhaps you breathe for none but me.
At times I miss your breath
As I flee to a world of solitude.
But then is heard your breath winding in
To reach the peaks of my utopia.
Your breath gets cannonised
And my entity rebounds unto you again.
A love is born and blossomed
As I search for you in the dark.
I cherish your breath a lot.
As I too begin to breathe like you.
poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
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Psalm 84
How lovely are thy dwellings fair!
O Lord of Hoasts, how dear
The pleasant Tabernacles are!
Where thou do'st dwell so near.
My Soul doth long and almost die
Thy Courts O Lord to see,
My heart and flesh aloud do crie,
O living God, for thee.
There ev'n the Sparrow freed from wrong
Hath found a house of rest,
The Swallow there, to lay her young
Hath built her brooding nest,
Ev'n by thy Altars Lord of Hoasts
They find their safe abode,
And home they fly from round the Coasts
Toward thee, My King, my God
Happy, who in thy house reside
Where thee they ever praise,
Happy, whose strength in thee doth bide,
And in their hearts thy waies.
They pass through Baca's thirstie Vale,
That dry and barren ground
As through a fruitfull watry Dale
Where Springs and Showrs abound.
They journey on from strength to strength
With joy and gladsom cheer
Till all before our God at length
In Sion do appear.
Lord God of Hoasts hear now my praier
O Jacobs God give ear,
Thou God our shield look on the face
Of thy anointed dear.
For one day in thy Courts to be
Is better, and mere blest
Then in the joyes of Vanity,
A thousand daies at best.
I in the temple of my God
Had rather keep a dore,
Then dwell in Tents, and rich abode
With Sin for evermore
For God the Lord both Sun and Shield
Gives grace and glory bright,
No good from him shall be with-held
Whose waies are just and right.
Lord God of Hoasts that raign 'st on high,
That man is truly blest
Who only on thee doth relie.
And in thee only rest.
poem by John Milton
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The end be with good hopes
I have had experience
That I was not treated
The way I had hoped
After the incidence..
At the time of death
I will have some hopes.
Even if they are not carried out,
As far as I am concerned,
They have been carried out.
Give one good hopes when one die.
23.04.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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You speak to me and say
Cherish
The brilliance of the day,
Come what may
The warmth descending from our sun
Which coddles each and everyone
The breath of life on this planet earth
Until our death, from our inconsequential birth
Thank you, Oh great uncaused first cause,
Whoever you are, wherever you may be,
Because
I am so glad to be around
To hear each and every sound
See each and every sight
Experience every single day and every single night
To breathe each and every breath
From my birth until my death
And waste not one single second
Of your great gift - this is my bond.
poem by Terry Brewer
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One Who Rejects Christ
There's farmers and there's farmers,
There's many a field and field,
But none of the farmers round about
Can haul such harvest-wagons out
As I from an acre's yield.
There's plenty and plenty of farmers
That leave the ground by the fence,
Thinking it's nice if a patch of roses
Should scratch out the hay and tickle their noses
With nice little wild-rose scents.
I'm not like other farmers,
I make my farming pay;
I never go in for sentiment,
And seeing that roses yield no rent
I cut the stuff away.
A very good thing for farmers
If they would learn my way;
For crops are all that a good field grows,
And nothing is worse than a sniff of rose
In the good strong smell of hay.
poem by John Crowe Ransom
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