Church Bells Ring
The church bells ring merrily
their wake up call
for all those sinner to repent
the sins they committed all week.
In their Sunday best
looking smartly dressed,
they amble down to the church
and take their place on a pew.
After several hymns they sing,
the minister gives his address
of how the evils of the world
are creeping up on all of us.
How we must be always wary
in everything we do
as the devil is always waiting
just to ensnare you.
More prayers and hymns follow
and then they are on their way.
However, did they learning anything
while they were at church today,
sadly for a lot
what was said went in one ear
and went out the other,
for during the week
they follow the same path
and go about sinning again.
19 February 2007
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
I Went To Church Today
i went to church today
and as it is customary
at dawn
a sacrifice so to say
for advent's sake
i join in the singing of
the hymns
i sit and stand and kneel
i recite my prayers
on paper
i look at the pulpit
and listen to the
priest saying the homily
i sit and stand and kneel
i look around the corners
i follow the lines of the pillars
i look at the center of this
church majestic in its
art and architecture
i look at the corners
and at the seats filled with
my own people
i was looking for the face
of God
his shadow even
is not there anymore.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sex & The Church
Though the idea of compassion
Is said to be
The union of christ
And his bride, the christian
Its all very puzzling
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
And the church
And the church
All the great mystic religions
Put strong emphasis, on
Redeame this spiritual qualities
Of sex of sex
Chrstianity
Has been pretty modern
About sex
Of sex of sex of sex of sex
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex sex
I think there is a union
Between the flesh and the spirit
Its sex and the church
Sex and the church
All religions mother
Give me youre freedom of spirit
And the joys of the flesh
Of sex sex sex and the church
Give me youre freedom of spirit
And the joys of the flesh
Of sex sex sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
And the church
And the church
Sex sex
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex sex
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
And the church
And the church
Sex sex
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex sex
Sex
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex sex
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A revival does two things. First, it returns the Church from her backsliding and second, it causes the conversion of men and women; and it always includes the conviction of sin on the part of the Church. What a spell the devil seems to cast over the Church today!
quote by Billy Sunday
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Ballad Of Go-go Brown
If thats why they call him go-go brown
Hed say (? )
If thats why some people put him down
Hed say it costs his name as go-go brown
All the girls in town
Used to follow him around
Go-go brown
Go-go brown
All the boys would sing
Were gonna make this go-go king
Go-go brown
Go-go brown
Go-go brown is the smartest guy by far
A brand new girlfriend and a brand new car
The girls all thought that he was heaven-sent
one day this boy will be a president
All the church bells ring
When that go-go used to sing
Go-go brown
Go-go brown
Here the people say
hes gonna be someone someday
Go-go brown
Go-go brown
Then one day some bad men came to call
And go-go knew its time to take a fall
Hes been smoking since the age of ten
He took some crack, he sold some smack
And now hes in the pen
All the girls in town
Used to follow him around
Go-go brown
Go-go brown
All the boys would sing
Were gonna make this go-go king
Go-go brown
Go-go brown
He raised them all
Yes he do
He faced the wall
Yes he did
He stood tall
Yes he do
Who did he let down
Just one man thats go-go brown (? )
All the church bells ring
When that go-go used to sing
Go-go brown
Go-go brown
Here the people say
hes gonna be someone someday
Go-go brown
Go-go brown
All the girls in town
Used to follow him around
Go-go brown
Go-go brown
All the boys would sing
Were gonna make that go-go king
Go-go brown
Go-go brown
All the girls in town
Used to follow him around
Go-go brown
Go-go brown
song performed by by Heaven 17
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bredon Hill
In summertime on Bredon
The bells they sound so clear;
Round both the shires they ring them
In steeples far and near,
A happy noise to hear.
Here of a Sunday morning
My love and I would lie,
And see the coloured counties,
And hear the larks so high
About us in the sky.
The bells would ring to call her
In valleys miles away:
'Come all to church, good people;
Good people, come and pray.
But here my love would stay.
And I would turn and answer
Among the springing thyme,
'Oh, peal upon our wedding,
And we will hear the chime,
And come to church in time.
But when the snows at Christmas
On Bredon top were strewn,
My love rose up so early
And stole out unbeknown
And went to church alone.
They tolled the one bell only,
Groom there was none to see,
The mourners followed after,
And so to church went she,
And would not wait for me.
The bells they sound on Bredon,
And still the steeples hum.
'Come all to church, good people,' -
Oh, noisy bells, be dumb;
I hear you, I will come.
poem by Alfred Edward Housman
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Some Have Steeples. Some Don't
What do I think of church?
'Yes! '
Church?
Like in 'church' church?
'Yes! '
Well...
Some have steeples.
Some don't.
Some have people.
Some wont.
Some are religiously political.
And some are politically religious.
My vehicle is my church.
And that's all I care about.
'Oh?
So your 'car' is your church? '
Oh.
No no!
My 'body' is my church.
It is my sanctuary.
Now...
Keep in mind,
I am not devoted to keep it as pure,
As it should be.
But I do the best I can,
Not to be led away by temptation.
But everyday I pray to be forgiven,
Of those 'sins' I know I should not enjoy!
However...
You can find me anytime,
Self righteously defending...
My point of view.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Hypocrisy In Christianity
today is Sunday
the one day sunday christians
are off to church
these are the Christians
who are only Christian
one day Sunday a week
Christians for only one day?
one day sunday for a few hours?
sin of Hypocrisy in Christianity?
is one of the most detestable sins
it causes righteous worshippers to stumble
it takes the name of God in vain
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Christmas 2007 Song – 10
Alit are Christmas trees!
And gifts are placed beside;
Festoons decorate halls;
Bright stars illuminate.
Hymns are heard everywhere;
Good music fills the air;
There’s laughter in most homes;
Today’s a special day!
Church bells are ringing ’loud!
And fervent prayers said;
Choir-bands play divine songs;
For, born is Jesus babe!
Today is Christmas Day-
The birthday of Jesus;
He brings with Him new hope
Of peace and joy for world.
The world can rejoice now;
A Savior has been born;
All sins are forgiven;
All can go to heaven!
Oh, what a loving God
Father gave His one Son,
For sake of all mankind,
To reach Eternal Bliss!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 12-24-2007
poem by John Celes
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Much Today Is Not Of The Lord
This world has changed in so many ways in these ever darkening days,
For it used to be The God of Grace, but now its wicked men we praise.
Today many entering God's marriage covenant enter totally deceived,
For those who wish to, have changed Adam to Madam and Eve to Steve.
Pure religion is keeping oneself from the world so not to be polluted,
But we have embraced the world so that our theology is convoluted.
Soldiers serving God have no time to be involved in civilian affairs,
But too often the Gospel is put aside, only to address worldly cares.
God makes it very clear that a rebellious spirit should be corrected,
Today we are told to stay encouraged, as this is only to be expected.
The Lord Himself said that we are not to call anyone on earth Father,
But ordinary men dismiss The Lord simply because they wear a collar.
Church is where you strengthen your Faith by hearing sound theology,
Unfortunately many pulpits today are smothered in worldly psychology.
As you struggle through your week church is a place to be encouraged,
But Satan has planted so many weeds at times you leave discouraged.
John the Baptist's words echoed on, “Repent for The Kingdom is near.”
Today many balk all my sins are forgiven, so what do I have to fear?
Much today is not of The Lord, who will one day very soon condemn it,
And many will be left behind when He raptures His remaining remnant.
(Copyright © 04/2003)
Sundays Past
On Sunday mornings you would wear a dark suit
With a tie and shiny shoes you are ready to en route
The church bells would ring calling for morning mass
While you check the weather through the window glass
A last glance in the mirror and you are on your way
You join the church goers without any further delay
Walking over uneven cobblestones in our small town
Children would jump on the sidewalks up and down
Dressed up for church everyone is wearing their best
Thinking about the priest and what they have to confess
Men lifting their dark hats as they wish a Good Morning
Then pass by the cemetery bowing heads as in mourning
The church bells now ringing louder and more demanding
Calling all sinners to mass without misunderstanding
I always knew that right then the decision was made
And it was agreed to skip church without being afraid
Through the old alley you and others took a known detour
Heading straight to the pub on the corner that is for sure
Around noon I would go to meet my father by the church
And he would talk about mass having done some research
At home my mother would just smile and shake her head
While my father gave her a wink that was hardly misread
Joking around we would eat lunch smiling with every bite
Keeping my father's Sunday secret and the world was alright
© 2011
poem by Kristina Louisa Carr
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Scenes from a Parish
The weekday Mass at 6 a.m.
brings old folks out
from bungalows
around the church.
They move like caterpillars
down sidewalks,
some with canes,
some on walkers.
Young Father Doyle says the Mass
and is renowned for giving
homilies on weekdays
superior to homilies
heard in other churches
even on a Sunday.
After Mass, he goes back
to the rectory to care
for a mother older than
most of his congregants.
A gracious lady, his mother
cannot move or talk
because of a stroke.
But every Sunday at noon,
when the church is overflowing
with people wanting Mass to start,
Father Doyle, in full vestments,
wheels his mother in a lump
down the middle aisle
and lifts her like a chalice
and places her in the front pew
before he ascends to the altar.
Sometimes at night,
when his mother is finally asleep,
he returns to the church
and rehearses in the dark
three hymns she long ago
asked him to sing at her funeral.
He practices the hymns
because the doctor said
she could go at any time
and when that time comes,
he doesn't want to miss a note.
The last thing she ever said was
'Son, I'll be listening.'
poem by Donal Mahoney
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A Contradiction
They go to church with their prayer books on sunday and praise the lord and sing their hymns and pray
And when their political leaders talk of war they support them for war to them one might say seems okay
They are what one might call a contradiction their love for god and war go hand in hand
These people who love god and talk of bloodshed are people that are hard to understand.
They go to church to pray to the almighty though with their next door neighbour they're at war
But they kid themselves by their self delusion for they take self delusion that bit far
They say they love god though their god from them seem distant and they don't seem to have their god within
And if their god exist then their god will disown them for god's approval they could not hope to win.
These people truly are a contradiction they go to church and praise their god in song
Yet some of them belittle their next door neighbour and some of them will tell you war's not wrong
And some of them back their political leaders to dropp bombs on people they don't even know
And they think they are decent church going people yet for others compassion they do not show.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Sunday Christians
today is Sunday
the one day sunday christians
are off to church
these are the Christians
who are only Christian
one day Sunday a week
Christians for only one day?
one day sunday for a few hours?
sin of Hypocrisy in Christianity?
is one of the most detestable sins
it causes righteous worshippers to stumble
it takes the name of God in vain
my neighbor proclaims I am not a Christian
because I do not show go to church Sunday
she is correct I am not a Christian as she is?
this is all that she is correct in...
I do not claim to be a good Christian...
I do not even claim to be a Christian...
although every hour every day God
motivates many multiple actions in my life
God even at times enters my dreams
motivates the first actions of my day
after I arise from precious sleeping
even in sleep God is part of my life
I am Christian Buddhist Muslim Jewish
I am respectful of all who worship God
respectful of all who worship in sincerity
God said love your neighbor
I love them and pity them both
God said thy shall not judge
I am mindful of my own sins
I have pity for the sins suffering of others
I rejoice in my Lord Savior Jesus
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Happy Easter!
Palm Sunday has gone,
Holy week has begun,
The week with events
Leading to Jesus torments,
To His Resurrection,
Showing the spirits domination.
Glory to Jesus Christ!
Easter Sunday today,
The greatest holiday.
We pray and say,
All around the world,
The words of love to our Lord
Showing that his death was not in vain.
Glory to Jesus Christ!
We light the candles
As a symbol of the rising sun,
And their light resembles
Jesus was really God’s Son.
The light comes back to the world
With the risen Jesus.
Glory to Jesus Christ!
The church bells ring,
The whole world sings Alleluia!
Easter eggs we bring
As a symbol of spring
With pretty small limes
Since the ancient times.
Glory to Jesus Christ!
Easter Rabbits or Easter Bunny
Look today happy and sunny.
They represent a new life
Full of presents and so nice.
We wear new clothes to look the best,
We’d like to follow His behest.
Glory to Jesus Christ!
The history of Sunday Easter has a long story,
And today we proclaim Jesus Christ Day
And say: Glory to our Lord!
Glory to the King of all Christians:
Ukrainians and Indians,
Russians and Americans,
Of all those who want to live in love and peace,
Our life for better to increase.
Glory to Jesus Christ!
And…..Happy Easter!
©Larisa Rzhepishevska
The 24th of April,2011
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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What Do You Call it?
What do you call it, when you have a disability,
And once your were at a church, and now you're not;
But no one from the church comes but say excuse me,
I cannot be there, I no longer can cope, did I put them in a spot?
What do you call it, is it an excuse, or am I contagious at all?
If your in a wheelchair, Being in a church my problem is small;
Why can't look past the chair, and see my need, today,
Even a phone call would help, but their heart says no way.
What do they call it, If some one is not so very well,
And can't get to church, pain is bad, they won't hear when I tell;
That I need fellowship from folks, so I don't shrink,
But they don't listen, their brains just don't think.
What does God call it, to leave a Christian alone,
That isn't very well, and yet, no one will ring on the phone;
I thought the Lord taught us, think of others first,
And when one is unwell, they shouldn't allow their bubble to burst.
Please Lord! Help me to have fellowship in some way,
When I can't get to church, they'd come some day;
It hurts to be left, with no calls, cards, or visitors as well,
Please Lord, make them think, to make my phone to bell.
poem by Margaret Haig
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Red riding hood
In the jungle named city
Johnny and Sally
dressed in their church best,
(she with a little red jacket and hood for winter)
one Sunday evening walked to church
when the cruel wolf
(a black monster) ,
drew a long knife
to take God’s money with violence and force,
but unluckily for him
they made him cry long howls
even before the moon did appear
when one two three
they chopped and kicked him using karate
and walked on quite unimpeded
before the church bells were even ringing.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Hope For Heaven
Grey church sits lonely on the hill,
Awaiting its next Sunday thrill.
Voices rising up to the spire,
Kept in tune by the local choir.
Regulars that every week,
Enter the door the Lord to seek.
Its rural town’s a busy place,
Harbouring a mixed human race.
On the seventh day most sleep late,
Don’t venture through the old lychgate.
They think about the open shops
And whether lunch requires pork chops.
The bells ring out, the faithful meet,
For some it is their only treat.
They catch up on the parish news,
And who will this week, clean the pews.
Then wander home their minds refreshed,
By words spoken when they were blessed.
Grey church that stands through passing time,
Listening to its own clock chime.
Could tell a million happenings,
Of centuries of natterings.
All the souls who have passed away,
Laid to their rest, and there to stay.
Such peace surrounds this house of God,
So many feet this path have trod.
But it remains steadfast and true,
All the inclement weather through.
Solitude for the broken heart,
Hope for heaven when all depart.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Follow Me 'Ome
There was no one like 'im, 'Orse or Foot,
Nor any o' the Guns I knew;
An' because it was so, why, o' course 'e went an' died,
Which is just what the best men do.
So it's knock out your pipes an' follow me!
An' it's finish up your swipes an' follow me!
Oh, 'ark to the big drum callin',
Follow me -- follow me 'ome!
'Is mare she neighs the 'ole day long,
She paws the 'ole night through,
An' she won't take 'er feed 'cause o' waitin' for 'is step,
Which is just what a beast would do.
'Is girl she goes with a bombardier
Before 'er month is through;
An' the banns are up in church, for she's got the beggar hooked,
Which is just what a girl would do.
We fought 'bout a dog -- last week it were --
No more than a round or two;
But I strook 'im cruel 'ard, an' I wish I 'adn't now,
Which is just what a man can't do.
'E was all that I 'ad in the way of a friend,
An' I've 'ad to find one new;
But I'd give my pay an' stripe for to get the beggar back,
Which it's just too late to do.
So it's knock out your pipes an' follow me!
An' it's finish off your swipes an' follow me!
Oh, 'ark to the fifes a-crawlin'!
Follow me -- follow me 'ome!
Take 'im away! 'E's gone where the best men go.
Take 'im away! An' the gun-wheels turnin' slow.
Take 'im away! There's more from the place 'e come.
Take 'im away, with the limber an' the drum.
For it's 'Three rounds blank' an' follow me,
An' it's 'Thirteen rank' an' follow me;
Oh, passin' the love o' women,
Follow me -- follow me 'ome!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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While Praying...
he is in church
attending the Sunday Mass
trying to close his eyes
in solemn prayer
at the front row
three rows ahead of him
is the woman who defrauded him
in a land deal
(money is not that important
but the fraud pinches
his soul)
beside him is his debtor
who just arrived from Dubai
on a three-day tour
and he did not pay him
his debt for two years
now
now the question is:
how can he keep his peace
in the middle of his
mumbled prayers?
before God his traitors
and swindlers
sing their hymns
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Lean On Me (Tonight)
Lazy day, Sunday afternoon,
Like to get your feet up, watch TV.
Sunday roast is something good to eat,
Must be lamb today 'cause beef was last week.
So full up, bursting at the seams,
Soon you'll start to nod off, happy dreams.
Wake up, for tea and buttered scones
Such a lot of work for you Sunday moms.
It's such a crying shame
Week after week the same.
Today's heaven-sent and you're feeling content,
You worked all week long.
Still, it's quite sad tomorrow's so bad
And I don't feel too strong.
Lazy day, Sunday afternoon,
LIke to get your feet up, watch TV.
Sunday roast is something good to eat,
Now it's almost over till next week.
That's how your life goes by
Until the day you die.
song performed by by Moody Blues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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