Ceasefire
Believers, stoked by a thirst-quenching fire
scale mountains with hope-braided rope.
Atheists, being damper and drier
tackle gentler slopes of Mope and Cope.
Some ride a pendulum high, to inspire
music and art beyond mortal scope.
Others, content in a logical mire
wash layers of mud with plain soap.
Unflinching believers aspire, won't tire
aligned by an inner gyroscope.
Less particular atheists acquire
bits, here and there in a whimsical grope.
Once, creation myths were shaped by desire
like a slow turning kaleidoscope.
Advent of printing fixed faith to require
no deviation from dogma's tightrope.
Maybe evolution was the supplier
of protective spiritual envelope.
Still, who would conspire, to maim with crossfire
unless she be a hard misanthrope.
poem by Diane Hine
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Related quotes
Fire Your Desire
Since the day that the lord set me on fire
i have had a desire to acquire the knowledge of my messiah,
Whatever u desire, Dont retire
Aspire to Acquire the desire u admire
If u perspire
u wont retire.
When the enemies conspire to fire your desire,
dont tire,
remember your mesiah
the one who speaks fire
He has clothed you with his attire,
and has given you his entire empire,
that if you refire you will acquire,
this is not time to expire,
With Jesus your mesiah,
the devil's fire will backfire,
Desire the holyfire,
Become a carrier of the holyghost fire,
Our God the unmpire will never retire
He will always refire, he will never expire,
he will always inquire
his power is forever,
So u have all u require my friend,
to acquire your long admired desire,
this is all u require,
stay on fire.
28/June/2007
poem by Obasuyi Uyiosa Dickson
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Tightrope
Cant find yourself
If youre lost in a crowd
Cant hear advice
If youre screaming out loud
For someone please listen to me
Cant figure out
What you dont understand
Cant realize
What you dont comprehend
But its always
Been plain to see
But if you run
Too far away
Oh if you run
Dont be afraid
Its just a tightrope
Walker on fire
Razorblade wire
Its a high hope
That you acquire
Its a tightrope
Razorblade wire
Cant say hello
If youre never around
Cant pace yourself
If you never slow down
cause your always
Running full speed
Cant take too much
If you dont let them in
Cant feel the touch
Of a life within
If youre always
Fulfilling the need
But if you run
Too far away
Oh if you run
Dont be afraid
Its just a tightrope
Walker on fire
Its a tightrope
Razorblade wire
Its a high hope
That you acquire
Its a tightrope
Of razorblade wire
Oh if you run
Too far away
Oh if you run
Dont be afraid
Its just a tightrope
Walker on fire
Its a tightrope
Razorblade wire
Its a high hope
That you acquire
Its a tightrope
Of razorblade wire
song performed by by Oleander
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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How can God allow this...?
The cry goes up…
making atheists out of believers,
believers out of atheists…
The answer offered from the wise
or wiser, is
God granted Man freewill…
without qualification…
so couldn’t He have arranged
that we could commit suicide,
but not murder? Wouldn’t that
be fairer…?
Seems not – He has to keep
by His own rules; those same inexorable rules
that allow a single tyrant
to bring down a whole nation -
do we dare say: with its own consent?
And man seeks to rule his fellows’ lives
by some shadow of that divinely ordained law:
granting to us, in some countries, though not all,
the right to carry arms… that gun
we carry ‘for our own defence’;
we who cannot all defend ourselves
against our own impulses;
we who defend the right
to portray murder without limit on our screens…
as if to see it acted out, still preserves, maintains,
even asserts, our innocence…
we, too, dispense freewill..
and call it ‘rights’…
the solemn bells ring deep and slow;
pause; say nothing; remember; learn.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Christians can bring peace to multi-religious Europe because we are able to understand the role of faith in the lives of other believers better than atheists.
quote by Timothy Radcliffe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fire
Thus did the Lord of primordial Heaven
His psyche scrached His own desire to leaven
Then in one uncopounded point all to reason
Into shapes in space by units set in motion
Thus did the Lord with His own expansive desire
His lightning magic to set the space-bits to acquire
To glow and twinkle and thunder and inspire
Man in dark and cold for heat to aspire
Thus did the Lord of Sun blaze
Fountains of flames the forests to embrace
Flashed man's acuity set to a smoky craze
To cook and dwell in heated, lighted grace
Thus spake the Lord of desire
That man shall call it Fire
Desire to dispute shall man be ever in mire..
Such be Fire
And first Ignition Reverberating Endlessly
poem by Indira Renganathan
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The first dragon (sestina)
They went to find a thing that belched fire
a killer, a dragon what could it be?
To defeat it, to win they did aspire,
to set the people from its terror free,
it was huge as it could never tire
and where it went, there was only agony.
Those brave humble men were of all fear free
were like a mighty force that did aspire
to make men godly, as t no man should be,
to snatch from that beast it’s devouring fire
and to bring to it just death and agony
and in this quest they would not tire.
Yet all of the great brave men do aspire
to in the unknown find knowledge free
to test skill against the beast and to tire
to measure if plans full of follies be,
later to chance, to fight using its fire,
even in using if there is only agony.
They wanted the truth of its power to be free,
free to use in destruction like the strange fire
that came from heaven that fell in agony
that has the capacity to even gods to tire,
they constructed weapons that should be
the main goal to which warriors do aspire.
It may that other men could easily tire
of this overwhelming quest whose worth could be
not lovely high things, to which to aspire,
nor a guiding light sparkling over the free
but quenching of life by its terrible fire,
with it only acts of death and agony.
Then like destiny, which doomed in agony,
like the first discoverers of divine secret fire,
the beast would rise and in raving anger be
really ruthless and from tricks it will not tire,
its intimate knowledge would not come free,
to seek power in which men as fools aspire.
In pride anything to be, finishing foes with fire
while endlessly to be free they do aspire
while men tire in wars only breeding agony.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Life 101, Lovelines, and Vampire Satire
LIFE 101, LOVELINES, and VAMPIRE SATIRE
LIFE 101
SUBMERGE EMERGE URGE SURGE SPLURGE CONVERGE VERGE MERGE PURGE DIRGE SUBMERGE! …
AFTERLIFE 101
? DIVERGE: SCOURGE … REEMERGE?
Coining a Ph[r]ase
Love Lair’s Layers
Inside
Outside
CoincideConfide
Allied
Guide
Glide
Astride
Abide
but the other side of the coin might be:
Drier Dire Diary
Hide
Slide
Bromide
DerideLied
Snide
Override
Divide
Dire Diary Vampire Satire - cast in order of appearance
Admire shyer
Fire desire
Surefire squire
Sapphire buyer
Higher lyre
Require Choir
Friar, prior,
Aquire attire
Empire entire
Sigher suspire
Transpire perspire
Defyer briar
Spy highflyer eyer
Hire sweetbriar *
Conspire crossfire
Dire liar
Wryer denyer
Inspire ire
Wire umpire,
Misfire miss, fire
Bye-bye err, slyer
Retire, mire
Quagmire, expire
Pyre bonfire …
*Definition of sweetbriar
Eurasian rose with prickly stems and fragrant leaves and bright pink flowers followed by scarlet hips
17 January 2007
robi03_1576_robi03_0000 WXX_LXX
Poem © Jonathan Robin Life 101, Lovelines, and Vampire Satire
poem by Jonathan Robin
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I ain't here to argue about his facial features. Or here to convert atheists into believers. I'm just trying to say the way school need teachers the way Kathie Lee needed Regis that's the way yall need Jesus.
quote by Kanye West
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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God's Atheistic Paradox
people who do not
happen to profess
to or believe in the truth
of the true Christian faith
may still enjoy receive salvation
may even receive death bed salvation
just because atheists do not believe in God
does not mean God does not believe in some atheists
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Virago
No longer the fall guy you used to require
All those old photos burn well on my fire
The carcass of love on a funeral pyre
Thank God your apprentice I failed to sire
You'll fly high and free with unsated desire
While your cravings degenerate into the mire
No doubt to harangue and defame you'll conspire
But then so be it, vengeance will be dire
From the start of the end you are branded a liar.
poem by Esra Sloblock
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Grope
Grope, rope, dope, hope, Pope, cope, mope, lope, slope;
Oppressed and robbed! !
For, the gods of the wood and the gods of the stones are now controlling you.
A thing of horror!
An object of biting remarks;
To dropp off,
To go into captivity,
And like the reflections of your works in the mirror! !
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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I Am Needing What It Is You Have To Give!
I'm needing it.
I can't resist...
More time,
With you by my side.
I am needing it.
And I can't resist...
More time,
With you by my side.
And less time,
For you to decide...
How much time you're going to give,
To fulfill my need.
Or the time you've given is enough for me.
I'm needing it.
I can't resist...
More time,
With you by my side.
I'm needing it.
I can't resist...
More time,
With you by my side.
Hope?
I have and got it.
Hope?
I've never doubted.
Hope?
I do not mope.
Or cope,
With hope to scope.
Hope?
I have and got it.
Hope?
I've never doubted.
Hope?
I do not mope.
Or cope,
With hope to scope.
I am needing it.
And I can't resist...
More time,
With you by my side.
And less time,
For you to decide...
How much time you're going to give,
To fulfill my need.
Or the time you've given is enough for me.
I'm needing it.
And I can't resist...
More time,
With you by my side.
Hope?
I have and got it.
Hope?
I've never doubted.
Hope?
I do not mope.
Or cope,
With hope to scope.
I am needing it.
And I can't resist.
Hope?
I have and got it.
Hope?
I've never doubted.
Hope?
I do not mope.
Or cope,
With hope to scope.
I am needing what it is you have to give!
Hope?
I have and got it.
Hope?
I've never doubted.
I am needing what it is you have to give!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Warrior Dash
Weaving through swings
Fresh new squires
Climbing rope walls
To heights so dire
Running over cars
Sailing through tires
To the 1 mile mark water supplier
Sliding down poles
We begin to conspire
We scaled up a wall
Like climbing a spire
If we needed a job
We'd certainly be hired
At the 2 mile mark we tire
A rope net crawl
With a tight rope walk prior
A large waterfall
We begin to climb higher
And as young son
Comes to become sire
We frantically try to jump over fire
We swim through thick mud
Bringing down all outliers
We struggle to swim
Under barbed wire
And then as runner
Turns into a buyer
The last thing you'll want is a blow dryer
poem by Logan Fulk
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Doors of Opportunity
Opportunities are given to those, believers, who the Lord has chose,
To share God’s Truth with the world, Truth every believer must herald.
We’re to be ready all of the time, even if there is no reason or rhyme,
To seize all God given opportunity, to direct men’s minds to Eternity.
Our time upon earth is brief for sure, so we need to enter every door,
Which is opened by the hand of God, as we’re lead by staff and rod,
While walking in faith, not only by sight, to be a Witness of His Light,
Being lead in a true spiritual sense, and mindful of God’s providence.
God’s providence truly paves the way, as we live our life, day to day,
Knowing that we’re in God’s will, His desire in believers, God shall fill,
Being kept every day by His Grace, as God guides us place to place,
To reach upon the earth everyone, with the Good News of God’s Son.
We must be mindful of the fact; God has given to us what we lacked,
As men before we came to believe, with the Spiritual gifts we receive,
Supplying to us what God needs, so that we can sow spiritual seeds,
This as we witness while in this life, sowing all seeds for Jesus Christ.
God may simply be watering those, seeds that another believer sows,
While His Spirit moves upon a heart, as believers simply do their part,
By seizing opportunities every day, as He opens doors along the way,
Daily opportunities God will afford, to those who witness for our Lord.
(Copyright ©06/2009)
The Atheists In Their Folly
THE ATHEISTS IN THEIR FOLLY
The atheists in their folly
Celebrate the alleged ‘death of God’.
In the end all of us will be nothing.
Only God can save us
Only God.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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The Long Doze
The Long Doze
God woke up
he had slept since world war one.
He was in good mood
On his desk two stacks of papers
one for the righteous people
one for atheists
He called St. Peter and said:
“Let them all in.”
“Are you sure Peter muttered?
“Peter, just do as I say.”
“I like to see
how happy the good will be”
God giggled
“But, most of all the astonishment
In the faces of non believers. “
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Not Just Millions
In one song men sing of Millions, but, that number is actually Billions,
Those who grope in darkness today, not knowing God’s Truth or Way;
One-third of the earth’s population, doesn’t embrace God’s Salvation,
Along with those who haven’t heard, the saving Grace of God’s Word.
As believers stop, to think of this, multitudes today need our witness,
Of Eternal Truths entrusted to us, as we came to faith in Christ Jesus,
It is the only Truth that man knows, as all the spiritual darkness grows,
To grant all men that required light, to free them totally from the night.
Jesus Christ, is The Light of this world, the Only Truth we must herald,
For The Way, The Truth and The Life, is none other, than Jesus Christ,
As Christ alone paid sin’s full price, as The Father’s Atoning Sacrifice,
And He alone, as God’s Only Son, came unto this earth for everyone.
There’s no reason for any to grope, in the darkness, with God’s Hope,
The only Hope for all mankind, who came to save the spiritually blind,
Today it remains our Lord’s desire, that passion burns in us like a fire,
To motivate us to reach all the lost, with God’s message of the Cross.
So today, we must never be silent, as the people who Christ has sent,
Into the present world of darkness, flooded with man’s hopelessness,
To offer God’s Hope and new sight, which leads men to Eternal Light,
Bringing Billions to Salvation’s Door, to a life with Christ forevermore.
(Copyright ©08/2009)
Wait For The Right Time
What grows on the earth? !
What is left to mankind?
But, do wait for the right time to come;
Then you can express yourself with your status.
Of the small planets,
Of the frozen planets,
Telescope, cope, slope, dope, rope, lope, scope, hope, mope;
And of these things!
Because, there is the planting time and of the harvest time.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Navagrahas
In the play-field of the providence
Playing unambiguously the Umpire
Upon the captains of eminence
And all their teamed players to aspire
Dribbled and dribbled to ever an unreached terminus
Unceasing rolling is fate's frolicking desire
And Earth bullied by its nine balls
Supplicates sometimes even stoking holy-fire
Begetting catered wishes by orisons
Reasonably while Navagrahas adorn spoused attire
And in the chariot of seven horses
Captain Soorya centered of solar empire
Driven consorted with Chaya's bliss
Fielded around by spunky players that require
Empyreal sport indefinitely on rolls
Ten horses do not atall tire
As Soma with Rohini deceptively wanes
Then waxes, then wanes to reinspire..
Handsome Chandra driven with lotus pats
That minds are lit of a luminaire
Sport of space is wary sometimes
A ram can carry on scarefire
Crimson Angaraka while aboard on with weapons
Clement yet a deity for devotees not to mire
That His blessings are bestowed boons
No loss for a daring lion dire
Mounted on while Bhuda of sportive deals
Supportive Brihaspati of brainy spire
Guiding eloquent the wisdom of beings
Rolls on bodies, space much to acquire
With white Sukra at peace are Asuras
And fortune suffices of what they require
Slow but ravenous and main of the players
Sani is the striker yet the holding wire
Spirit of the firmament on rolls
Providential trickery is on occasional hire
Shadowy up and down the spherical nodes
In dark Rahu and Ketu while conspire
Eclipsed Sun and Moon behind shades
Empyreal sport is after all only to admire
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Awakening for Seasons
Alarm call signal beeps, wakes life to hope.
While vague, untidy heap stirs, seeking soap.
Above white sheets eyes peep – ‘collide a scope’
Knaps excerpt from sleep's waves, attempts to cope
Extracts dream-echoes deep which telescope
Nano half-lives, fragile figments elope.
Isolated fragments salmon-surface grope
Now mid the mind’s adjustments, knot loose rope,
Glimpse anchors dreams yet keeps thoughts in their scope.
Flashes snow sheep show, recounted hope
Of t[r]apping spring of sleep... dream’s periscope.
Rise above life's challenge slope!
SEA-change awaits as crocus, once snowbound,
SONg sings which trees decks green, gifts green to ground.
7 December 1991 revised 12 April 2008
poem by Jonathan Robin
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