Bible Stories: Job (Chapter VII)
Is life on earth for man, not drudgery?
Are not his days like that of hirelings?
He is a servant longing for shadow,
A hireling awaiting his wages.
I have been assigned months of misery,
And weary troubling nights wait to seize me.
And when in bed, I ask when shall I rise?
I toss in bed restless until the dawn.
My flesh is clothed by worms, scabs, cracks, festers;
My skin is broken and turned loathsome; .
My days are swifter than weaver’s shuttle,
And seem to end each day, without much hope;
My life is wind-like, without happiness;
The eye of him that saw me sees me not;
Thine eyes are upon me but mine are not.
Like how a cloud will vanish right away,
The one, who goes to grave, will not return.
No more shall he return to his own house;
His place shall neither know him anymore.
Hence, I’ll not stop my mouth from utterance;
I’ll speak my spirit’s anguish wholly out;
I will complain in my soul’s bitterness.
Am I a sea or whale that you watch me?
Why then am I, an object of attack?
My bed shall comfort me, when I shall say,
My couch shall ease my complaints all, when told.
Your dreams and visions terrify me lot;
I prefer death by choking than my pains;
I waste away knowing, I can’t live long;
Set me in solitude, my life is short;
Oh, what is man, you pay him any heed?
Copyright by Dr John Celes 4-27-2007
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bible Stories: Job (Chapter X)
I speak with bitterness of soul,
‘I hate my life; don’t prove me wrong.
O God, why do you oppose me?
Does oppression give pleasure, Lord? ’
‘Why spurn the good work of your hands?
Can’t you perceive like how man sees?
Is your lifetime akin mortals?
You know I’m not a wicked man,
And yet you seek my sins and guilt! ’
‘You fashioned me with your own hands
And then, why destroy me, O God?
From clay, you made me very well
Do you want to turn me to dust? ’
‘Like milk, you poured me, made me cheese!
You clothed my bones with flesh and skin;
You gave me grace and spirit too;
You hide your purpose in your heart! ’
‘You watch me sin but suffer guilt;
If I’m wicked, alas for me!
If righteous, what’s the advantage
To live in shame and afflicted? ’
‘A lion-like, you hunt me down
And show your mighty power, Lord;
Repeatedly, you attack me
And harass me, so often, God.’
‘Why out of womb, you brought me live?
I should have died without notice;
Had I ne’er lived, how much better?
From womb, you could have shown my tomb! ’
‘Are not my days on earth just few?
Leave me ’lone to recoup a bit,
Before I go to ne’er return,
From land of darkness and of gloom-
The land where darkness is but light! ’
Copyright by Dr John Celes 4-29-2007
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bible Stories: Job (Chapter XIV)
Job Continues:
Eve-born, man’s life is transient,
And full of troubles, incessant;
Akin a flower sprung, that fades
Or shadow swift that not abides.
How can you pick on such a one,
And bring to judgment for things done?
Can there be found a man all clean,
And undefiled in life, who’s been?
His days and months are numbers fixed,
The limits which he cannot pass!
Like hireling, he passes his day;
So, let him be and look away.
Even a tree has hope if cut,
It sprouts again with tender shoot;
Although in earth, grown old is root,
And die in dust, its stump and fruit.
Watered by rain, it lives again;
And puts young branches, not in vain;
Alas, when dies a man, then he,
Loses all vigor entirely.
Like how the waters of a lake
Or stream dry up to ne’er awake,
Man sleeps to ne’er rise again,
Until no more heavens remain!
Would you then hide me in nether,
Until your wrath finds good weather,
And fix a time and remember
Him as a once-earthly member?
The life of man is drudgery-
A wait long brings relief barely;
Your call, I would answer you then:
Work of your hands you esteem, when;
Then, you would count my footsteps all,
And sins of mine, never recall;
And seal my misdeeds in a pouch,
My guilt to cover, me you vouch.
As mountain falls and rocks change place,
And every stone, waters efface,
And waters wash the ground’s top-soil,
The hope of man, so you do foil.
Unknown to him, his sons you hail
Or disgrace when you once prevail;
With changed a form, he’s sent away,
With grieving-soul and pain en way!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 5-1-2007
poem by John Celes
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Bible Stories: Job (Chapter XVII)
Job Speaks On:
So broken is my spirit, Lord!
My lamp of life looks extinguished;
Their provocations mount high, God;
My eyes grow dim as I feel mocked;
My burial seems imminent!
Their minds to knowledge are darkened;
They cannot understand therefore.
Evil’s my lot, as they described;
My name to people is by-word;
I am their object of lesson.
Who will stand surety for me?
Grant me one who will pledge for me;
My eyes are blind with anguish, Lord;
My frame is just a shadow, God.
All upright men are astonished;
Yet, righteous hold on to his way;
Clean-handed ones improve in strength;
I find no wise man amidst you.
My earthly days are almost gone;
My plans seem finally all torn;
Such men can change to day, the night;
In darkness, they talk of bright light.
If my dwelling be nether world,
My couch in darkness is enshroud;
If ‘corruption’ be my father,
And maggots- my sister, mother!
About my hope, who does bother?
Where’s prosperity, my brother?
Will they come with me to nether?
To dust shall we go together?
Copyright by Dr John Celes 5-1-2007
poem by John Celes
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The Return
We find ourselves going home.
But isn't that where the heart is?
So half of us is not in the return
and that's what is amiss.
We now know just how it feels to be loved
in life's greatest way.
It fills you with a longing
to never have it go away.
Four days out of your life you treasure
and think sadly to yourself
that but for these four short days you've had
your life was an unopened book on a shelf.
You know you most probably will not return
to the family you have found.
But still you hide that in your mind
and look forward to your home ground.
So now you know you can mend all the missing parts
that your life's had.
And that in itself is healing
and helps when you are sad.
Return maybe?
maybe not?
but that's not the important thing.
Only the four days you lived is
what will finally bring
HAPPINESS.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Longing for you
How much longer must I wait, sitting on my rocking chair, on my porch, waiting all day long, the days pass by like clouds rushing through the sky, and a shadow saunters by my side. My mind is going crazy! I'm thinking; and must I still wait? I even smell his fresh cologne of Irish spring, his natural smell of Ivory soap, when he's just coming out of the shower! how many more nights? sometimes I can feel his breath so near, his skin so close, I can almost feel it's real. In my sleep I call out his name, Oh darling how much longer? You linger and I wait, your return is uncertain, my body weary from longing for your return, Today I still wait, please don't hesitate, I can't dream anymore.
poem by Elenushka Toledo
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Blessed Anticipation
There’s blessing for all who wait, for the rapture and anticipate,
The soon return of our Lord, with the promise of eternal reward,
If longing, in a heart does burn, for the appearing of His return,
That soul will receive in the end, a crown from Christ, my friend.
And there’s blessing upon earth, not just those of eternal worth,
When we hope for Christ’s return; this in Scripture we also learn,
That all who have this Hope within, will be purified from their sin.
Purified, just as Christ is pure, and my friend, there’s even more.
God helps us to live our life anew, while on the earth in all we do,
As Christ allows us to live for Him, as a Light in this world of sin,
Encouraged on life’s narrow way, knowing He can come any day,
To return for us, at anytime, to take us to, our new home sublime.
Presently He’s our Blessed Hope, in a world, as it’s hard to cope,
With wicked men and their ways, Jesus Christ alone is our praise,
For our Lord shall deliver us, from their darkness, in Christ Jesus,
All of those who are found in Christ, as we enter into Eternal Life.
The instruction by God to all, believers in Christ, by Apostle Paul,
Is to encourage one another, about the joy awaiting every brother,
For we’ll all be changed by grace, to see our Lord’s blessed face,
Lifted to a realm eternally pure, to be with our Savior forevermore.
(Copyright ©08/2010)
Sonnet: Most Earthly Things Don't Last For Long!
There are some things we wished to have in life;
We tried our level-best to get them fast,
Despite our poverty, trials and strife;
But once acquired, they turned things of past!
There are some more, we could not get at all,
Despite our many struggles to procure;
But then, they turned like autumn leaves that fall;
And left us just the anguish to endure!
Nevertheless, all earthly things don't last;
Our soul carries the good and bad, we do;
Our evil done stealthily looks aghast;
The good we did becomes scarce, almost few!
All things of earth return to dust some day!
The state of soul decides after-life's way!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 25-06-12
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet: A ' Xian's Life
When problems seize a man upon the earth,
The cause is devils, nature, God or I;
The Christian has a dreary life since birth;
In all his strife, Jesus remains near-by!
Why blame someone for things going amiss?
A Christian life is full of misery;
Just don’t worry for stands besides Jesus;
“Take up your cross and follow me, ” said He!
The devils tempt a Christian soul often;
But Jesus assures him victory always;
The shadow of the Cross leads to Heaven;
A baptized soul on earth has sure D-days!
The Son of God, Jesus, forsakes me not;
Thro’ bloody price on Cross- That’s how I’ as bought!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 3-6-2006
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Life of a Saint
A life of piety and fortitude;
A life of sacrifice and prayer;
A life of suffering, self-denial and solitude;
A life without lucre and luxuries;
A life of frequent ‘commune with God’.
A life of divine intervention, guidance and protection;
A life that’s looked down by the world but blessed by God;
A life that’s wholly lived for God’s sake;
A life full of miracles that astound the world;
A life that causes miracles even after life;
A life that tells the world about God’s special love;
A life that draws more souls to Heaven.
A life that communes with God’s presence after death;
A life that reveals some corporeal stigma of sanctification;
A unique instrument in God’s hands, used in
A divine way;
A life of even martyrdom;
An exemplary and holy, earthly life;
A soul chosen by the grace of God;
A soul destined to enjoy eternal proximity to God!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 4-21-2007
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Soul In Sorrow
With kind compassion hear my cry
O Jesu, Lord of life, on high!
As when the Summer's seasons beat
With scorching flame and parching heat,
The trees are burnt, the flowers fade,
And thirsty gaps in earth are made,
My thoughts of comfort languish so,
And so my soul is broke by woe.
Then on thy servant's drooping head,
Thy dews of blessing sweetly shed;
Let those a quick refreshment give
And raise my mind, and bid me live.
My fears of danger while I breath,
My dread of endless hell beneath,
My sense of sorrow for my sin,
To springing comfort, change within,
Change all my sad complaints for ease,
To chearful notes of endless praise;
Nor let a tear mine eyes employ
But such as owe their birth to joy:
Joy transporting sweet and strong,
Fit to fill and raise my song,
Joy that shall resounded be
While days and nights succeed for me:
Be not as a Judge severe,
For so thy presence who may bear?
On all my words and actions look,
(I know they're written in thy book)
But then regard my mournful cry
And look with Mercy's gracious eye,
What needs my blood since thine will do
To pay the debt to justice due.
O tender mercy's art divine!
Thy sorrow proves the cure of mine,
Thy dropping wounds, thy woful smart,
Allay the bleedings of my heart:
Thy death, in death's extreme of pain,
Restores my soul to life again.
Guide me then for here I burn
To make my Saviour some return.
I'll rise, (if that will please him still
And sure I've heard him own it will)
I'll trace his steps and bear my cross
Despising ev'ry grief and loss;
Since he despising pain and shame,
First took up his, and did the same.
poem by Thomas Parnell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Christian Marriage
God made you two as man and wife,
And live as one in earthly life;
The two bodies are now one flesh;
In Jesus Christ, you dwell, refresh.
No one on earth can separate,
Two souls ‘en way’ to Heaven’s Gate;
The marriage vows you took ’fore Lord,
Come sanctified by Divine Word.
For, Matrimony- sacrament,
Was made by Christ, a monument;
Forever love must then prevail,
Whatever comes as strife, travail.
When Christ suffered for sins of ours,
And shed His blood by death on cross,
Our suffering on earth is naught;
In joy of after-life, we’re caught!
God helps us brave all storms in life,
And timely aids us in all strife;
In Him, our faith should grow always
Until we pass our earthly days!
Ne’er fear: for God ne’er will forsake
The souls who live for His own sake;
Nor will He ever abandon
His righteous ones, the least even.
Believe the Lord and all He says;
Success on earth too comes in days;
Prepare your soul with grace always;
A Christian true has won the race!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 2-14-2007
poem by John Celes
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Days
- Album: Reality
- Lyrics and music by David Bowie
Hold me tight
Keep me cool
Going mad
Don't know what to do
Do I need a friend?
Well I need one now
All the days of my life
All the days of my life
All the days I owe you
All I've done
I've done for me
All you gave
You gave for free
I gave nothing in return
And theres little left of me
All the days of my life
All the days of my life
All the days I owe you
With redeyed pain I'm knocking on your door again
My crazy brain in tangles pleading for your gentle voice
Those storms keep pounding through my faded heart
I'll play your sooth my sorry soul
All the days of my life
(All the days of my life)
All the days of my life
(All the days of my life)
All the days I owe you
All the days of my life
(All the days of my life)
All the days of my life
(All the days of my life)
All the days I owe you
All the days of my life
(All the days of my life)
All the days of my life
(All the days of my life)
All the days I owe you
All the days of my life
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Grief Promise Me To Leave ' Part 2
“”After three months of lying and illusions””
GRIEF PROMISE ME TO LEAVE ' PART 2’
My heart: come back to me grief
My grief: I’m not grief any more I developed to MISERY
My heart: whatever just come?
My misery: I’m coming my friend
My heart: you were right
My misery: as I told you before but you won't believe me
My heart: I believe in you now
My misery with a 'happy tone': tell me what's happened
My heart: what should I tell you! ? I’m stupid.... I’m foolish
My misery: I agree cause every one think in his heart he is big idiot and you are idiot
My heart: she destroyed my soul
My misery: like always
My heart: I don't want that any more
My misery: what do you want?
My heart: I wanna death
My misery: not in your hand, it's our life happiness & sadness
My heart: but my life always painful, what should I do, may I blame the fate or what?
My misery: no, blame your self? You were so nice toy in other hands you are idiot, so blame yourself.
My heart: she lied to me, she gave me hope, life and happiness in months and toke it from me in a little moments.
My misery: that's because of your kindness, and there is no place for you in this world.
My heart: you are the only one who can understand me well.
My misery: I know that cause we borne together.
'My misery thinking'
My misery: you shouldn't keep moving in your life
My heart: I know! ?
My heart: I just wanna the honest from her not anything else
My misery: you won't get it
My heart: she thought me a little nice toy in her hands
My misery: with all my regret, you were and you will still always
‘My heart thinking about ending his misery’
‘My heart saw a knife near from him, he carry it to suicide and end his cruel life’
My misery ' with happy voice ': what you doing?
My heart: I can't be idiot anymore, cause I believed in something silly doesn’t existed ' love '.
My misery: you are right.
My heart: I’m sorry for keeping you away from me.
My misery: its ok, as I told you before, something from me will still inside you.
My heart: you are my faithful friend.
My misery: we had borne together.
‘My heart I s going to suicide now’
My misery: any last words?
my heart: before I leave this life forever I want you promise me that you will never go to live in her heart ever, cause she make me live in the most beautiful illusion I’ve seen.
My misery: do you know that you are stupid?
My heart: I know cause she kept telling me this word.
My misery: ok I promise you but you have to end your life now
My heart: ok i will
‘When my heart tried to stick the knife in his heart’
‘The 'happiness whisper' came to him in hurry again but she barely breathing’
Happiness whisper: what you doing? Are you crazy?
My heart: yes I’m crazy cause I loved someone in crazy way but, she failed me, and the misery controlling me forever.
My misery: let him rest of his cruel life.
‘Happiness whisper trying to convince misery to make him not killing him self’
My heart: it's too late, that's my choice.
‘Happiness whisper started to vanish’
Happiness whisper: you don't deserve that, you are good heart
My heart: forgive me I’m not belonged to this world
‘The happiness whisper start crying and after a while she vanished’
‘My misery was standing and waiting’
My heart: goodbye and don't forget what you promised me don't forget
my heart stick the knife in the center and he begin bleeding to death, his tears freeze on his eyeball, he begin trembling, his color turned from the puce to the dark blue, and then he is died.
The misery: it was his end but, it was the beginning for other broken hearts so be careful cause I’m coming.........
poem by Damn Angel
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet: Why Waste …?
Why waste your voice, extolling men on earth,
Who don’t deserve the smallest praise, you give?
Why waste your life in earthly aims since birth,
When there are better things for which to live?
Why waste your talents, earning name and fame,
When nothing we can take back when we die?
Why waste your precious days in acts of shame,
When we can thank the Lord and God, Most High?
Why waste your labor, building things that break,
When you can share the love of God with all?
Why waste your life in taking risks to make
One skyscraper, that must anytime fall?
Why waste God-given time in sin and vice,
When God expects us to remain soul-wise?
Copyright by Dr John Celes 2-9-2008
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To Isa in Heaven
Early, bright, transient, chaste as morning dew,
She sparkled, was exhaled, and went to heaven! — Young.
Where is she now?
Oh! Isa! tell me where thou art?
If death has laid his hand upon thy brow,
Has he not touched my heart?
Has he not laid it in the grave with thine,
And buried all my joys?—Speak! thou art mine!
If thou were dead,
I would not ask thee to reply;
But thou art living—thy dear soul has fled
To heaven, where it can never die!
Then why not come to me? Return—return
And comfort me, for I have much to mourn!
I sigh all day!
I mourn for thee the livelong night!
And when the next night comes, thou art away,
And so is absent my delight!
Oh! as the lone dove for his absent mate,
So is my soul for thee disconsolate!
I long for death—
For any thing—to be with thee!
I did inhale, alas! thy dying breath,
That it might have some power on me
To make me what thou art!—but, thou art dead!
And I am here!—it strengthened me instead!
Joy there is none—
It went into the grave with thee!
And grief, because my spirit is alone,
Is all that comes to comfort me!
The very air I breathe is turned to sighs,
And all mine soul is melting from mine eyes!
I hear, at even,
The liquid carol of birds;
Their music makes me think of thee in heaven,
It is so much like thy sweet words.
The brooklet whispers, as it runs along,
Our first love-story with its liquid tongue.
Wake, Isa! wake!
And come back in this world again!
Oh! come down to me, for my soul's dear sake,
And cure me of this trying pain!
I would give all that earth to man can be,
If thou wert only in this world with me!
Day after day
I seek thee, but thou art not near!
I sit down on thy grave in the cold clay,
And listen for thy soul!—oh! dear!
And when some withered leaf falls from the tree,
I start as if thy soul had spoke to me!
And so it is,
And so it ever more must ever be
To him, who has been robbed of all the bliss
He ever knew, by loving thee!
For misery, in thine absence, is my wife!
What joy had been, hadst thou remained in life!
It is now even;
The birds have sung themselves to sleep;
And all the stars seem coming out of heaven,
As if to look upon me weep!—
Oh! let me not look up to thee in vain,
But come back to me in this world again!
poem by Thomas Holley Chivers (1842)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Bible Stories: Job (Chapter III)
And after this, Job cursed his day!
Oh, fie the day I was born live!
I curse the day I turned a boy.
May dark prevail on my birthday!
May never light illumine it!
May gloom afill first day I breathed!
May frightening blackness affright it!
Let obscure be my day of birth;
Let it from year-days be effaced;
Let it from all months disappear;
Let barren be the night I’as born;
Let not a joyful cry greet it!
Let them who curse the sea, curse it
May twilight stars remain all dark!
May daylight never dawn upon,
Because the doors of womb weren’t shut,
To shield my eyes from earth’s troubles!
Why did I not expire in womb?
Why did I not perish at birth?
Why did I ever see the light?
Why was my birth so untimely?
Why was I suckled at the breasts?
Why did my knees help me to stand?
Had I in tranquil state then slept,
I could have rested and not wept,
With mighty beings of the earth,
And ones lucred, right from their birth:
Where weary souls are laid to rest,
And wicked cease to be a pest!
Where all are same- the great and small;
Where freed is servant from master.
Why labored see the endless light?
Why bitter hearts get extra life?
They welcome death but it comes not;
They seek death like hidden treasures,
And exult on finding at last,
And reach the grave, glad in their hearts!
I sigh far easier than my food;
My groans come forth akin water;
What fear I had has come on me;
My troubles seize me so freely;
I have no peace nor ease nor rest.
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Must I Complain, O God, I Pray?
When you made me by love thine,
And called me sweetly by my name,
And wrote it in your palm divine,
Must I complain, O God, I pray?
When you chose me for job fine,
And gave me breath in special way,
And made me walk on earth, ravine,
Must I complain, O God, I pray?
When you led me through hill, vale,
And desert, plain, seasons umptine,
And kept me safe through flood and hale,
Must I complain, O God, I pray?
When you watched o'er me night, day,
And fed, clothed, sheltered me all life,
And held me by right hand en way,
Must I complain, O God, I pray?
When you suffered, died on cross,
And resurrected on third day,
And wait for me with Father Boss,
Must I complain, O God, I pray?
When you are Almighty God,
And love to see my soul back pure,
And fair in judgment, just in rod,
Must I complain, O God, I pray?
Must I complain, O God, I pray?
Fondly dedicated to my dear elder sister,
Miss. Noeline Mary Clemencia BSc., B.T.,
On her birthday today
Copyright by Dr John Celes 11-02-'12
poem by John Celes
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Sonnet: I Want To Follow Christ
So far in life, I have suffered a lot;
I’ve had my days of enjoyment also;
For hurried wealth, I can’t my conduct blot;
The shadow of the Cross, I now follow.
And ultimately, I must reach Heaven;
Our life on earth is preparatory;
And mortal sins, we must avoid as men;
For venial sins, we go to Purgatory.
A Christian life is difficult no doubt;
But I cannot waver now anymore;
The life of truth and joy to live, we ought;
Heaven’s light-house will guide us to its shore.
To follow Christ on earth I want always,
And He will show me how to pass my days.
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet: Let’s Put Our Trust In God
When shattered seems the Lamp of Life in me;
And broken lies the glass-mantle of fame;
My body's wick too half-burnt and sadly;
Heart's fuel gone, in hopelessness and shame!
I ponder if these are my earth's last days,
As weary lie my spirit and my will;
While Death's cold-sneer is laughing at my face;
I feel miserable, so extremely ill!
The God in me goads me to carry on;
For earth's verdicts are not infallible;
New Hope could come with every morning's Dawn;
Nothing to God is ev'r impossible!
I continue to live as God demands,
He holds my hour-glass and its falling-sands!
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Anguish, pain, misery, sorrow and retribution
Some say life is full of anguish,
old man once sang that life is full of pain
some even preach that life comes fully laced with misery and sorrow,
and some believe that life offers no retribution
ideas clearly instilled in the hearts and souls of many a man,
but the truth of the matter is,
life is anguish,
life is pain,
life is misery and sorrow,
in the same way as rain is water
and water is rain
for where can one get one`s own share of anguish,
who`d we ever have known pain if we never had life
without life, would we live through misery and sorrow
life in itself is retribution,
for he who has life can stand ground against
anguish, pain, misery and sorrow
and live to see brighter days seemingly unscathed
but woo to he who loses his life
in anguish, or pain, or misery , or sorrow
for he will receive no further retribution
and he will depart this earth with nothing but
anguish, pain, misery, sorrow
and retribution lost
poem by Tinashe Severa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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