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Jealousy

Jealousy, thou green-eyed Monster!
Threat to the mind of the youngster;
Pervading all ages, places;
Prevalent in Human races;
Thou infect the female gender!
Rarely the male who doth render
Both his eyes, free of thy green sheen!
Unlike the Eve who cannot feign;
Thou rob the minds off peace, a shame;
Envy is thy other short name!
And Ye who split the hearts who loved,
Like fire spread into the crowd;
Creating ill-will amongst friends;
Siblings, kith and kin, no end;
Thine nasty work began from birth!
Polluting the fountain of mirth;
Betwixt sisters of closer age;
Ye spared not elder men or sage;
Amongst neighbours; in vocation;
At work-spot; play; avocation;
Ye spared not men of higer rank,
In thine clutches, their wives just sank;
In schools and any walk of Life;
In colleges, gave rise to strife;
Envy, the root of all evil!
The prime method of the devil!
O God, protect us from this MOTH!
That hits the eyes of Man, beast, both.

by Dr John Celes

poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet: Take Me, O Master, Into Thine Vineyard

0 Master, take me into Thine vineyard;
Thou give me any duty as Thou please;
And when I've finish'd show me Thine backyard;
Enroll me vassal, when free of disease.

0 Master fair, Thou give me a job soon;
Thou may pay me anything in return;
To be Thine servant, humblest is a boon;
For then, I can't ever go to Hell and burn.

0 Master kind, any job will suffice;
My precious time, I've wasted for quite long;
Thou give me food, enough to do work nice;
Thou give me work before ceases Thine song.

How lucky 'tis to be in Thine vineyard!
A servant's lucky more in Thine backyard.

poem by John Celes
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The Tiger- past predator: present prey!

Tiger, Tiger, poached for hide!

By Man’s bullets many died;

Bones and claws of thine are dried;

Poachers have thee crucified.

Past predator, now a prey!

Recklessly killed every day;

Thy extinction is so nigh;

Mortality of thine’s high.

Lord of Jungle, O Tiger!

Hast thou become much tamer?

Thy reserves have dwindled fast;

Wilt thou soon be thing of past?

Oh, what sinews, what muscles!

Victor of fiercest tussles;

Thou with agility stalk;

Despite weight, thou canst cat-walk!

No beast dare challenge thy might;

Thine eyes glimmer green at night;

Thou live in forests so dense;

Mighty beast- ’tis no pretence.

Frightens thy roar every beast;

Stalk thou grassland’s beasts for feast;

What strength fills thy graceful frame!

Jungle Lord, wherefrom thou came?

poem by John Celes
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Sonnet: Woman

Woman, thy beauty lies not in thine shape,
Nor in the color of thy skin but heart!
If only thou practiced a tongue-tied art,
And modesty with neck with a high drape!

Woman, vie not another feminine,
For jealousy is inborn in thine eyes;
Be not wayward or play the game of dice,
For thou inebriate more than old wine.

Be honest and obey thine husband’s word;
He needs thee in mind/ body and spirit;
Thy patience and love supreme are unheard;
Let not your mind contract a bad habit.

O woman of virtues, thou art the best;
Be thou firm even if death be your test!

poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Holy Sonnet II: As Due By Many Titles I Resign

As due by many titles I resign
My self to Thee, O God; first I was made
By Thee, and for Thee, and when I was decayed
Thy blood bought that, the which before was Thine;
I am Thy son, made with Thy Self to shine,
Thy servant, whose pains Thou hast still repaid,
Thy sheep, thine image, and, till I betrayed
My self, a temple of Thy Spirit divine;
Why doth the devil then usurp on me?
Why doth he steal, nay ravish that's thy right?
Except thou rise and for thine own work fight,
Oh I shall soon despair, when I do see
That thou lov'st mankind well, yet wilt not choose me,
And Satan hates me, yet is loth to lose me.

poem by John Donne
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Sonnet: About God

I know Thou art the most Supreme Being;
For long a time, I’ve known this true feeling;
At any time, my life may have to go;
When Thou bid me come, I will never know.

Thou must protect me God from all evil,
The ones perpetrated by the devil;
Thou knowst my life and strife too well on earth,
The temptations, I came under since birth.

No man ever lives by his toil alone!
Equally matter, God’s words and His tone;
All words uttered in scriptures surely stay;
O God, to live as per Thy code, I pray.

What a magnificent world, Thou gave me,
To live a while and earn Eternity!

poem by John Celes
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Holy Sonnet 2

As due by many titles I resign
Myself to thee, O God, first I was made
By Thee, and for Thee, and when I was decay'd
Thy blood bought that, the which before was Thine.
I am Thy son, made with Thyself to shine,
Thy servant, whose pains Thou hast still repaid,
Thy sheep, Thine image, and—till I betray'd
Myself—a temple of Thy Spirit divine.
Why doth the devil then usurp on me?
Why doth he steal, nay ravish, that's Thy right?
Except Thou rise and for Thine own work fight,
O! I shall soon despair, when I shall see
That Thou lovest mankind well, yet wilt not choose me,
And Satan hates me, yet is loth to lose me.

poem by John Donne from Holy Sonnets
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Sonnet: A Poet’s Greatness

Most lucky, thou art, O Bard and winged Muse!
After thy death, thy soul remains on earth;
Thy God-giv’n gift- how well thou put to use!
And through thy passionate poems gave mirth.

Maybe, thy stay short wasn’t comfortable,
And thy heart got plunged in sadness so oft;
Maybe, thou had to live in a stable!
In God’s heart, thou shall have a corner soft.

What truths thou writ in poems beauteous!
What good advice thou rendered to live life!
How well thou showed men ought to be righteous!
How soothing balm, thou bestowed men in strife!

O great soul, thine place in Heaven’s assured,
O fisherman of souls, thy rest tho’ measured.

poem by John Celes
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Sonnet- the Physician’s Greatness

O Physician, thou art really great!
Remarkable is thine intelligence;
Adeptly, thou changeth the illness’ fate;
Extra-perceiving man with common sense!

With naked eyes, thou mak’th right diagnosis;
The masses benefit by thine prowess;
Endowed by God with intuition’s largess,
Thou cans’t yet blindly give the prognosis.

The man with knife believes only when seen;
The man with ’scope, magnifies and believes;
The x-ray man sees patients through eyes keen;
Thou man with Steth, by ear and touch perceives.

Thou art the greatest specialist on earth!
Alas! thine number is seeing its dearth.

dedicated to the API (Association of Physicians of India) by Dr John Celes

poem by John Celes
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Sonnet- Jesus, the Son of God

One Word of Thine can heal my wounded heart;
One look divine can work wonders from start;
One Word of Thine can change water to wine;
One touch of Thine can make a Leper fine.

Authority in Thine word's what we find;
Divinity, none can be than Thy mind;
Psychology of man, Thou know'st so well,
Who can with the Son of God, argue, tell.

What anger great, Thou hast shown in some place!
Thine advice can soothe any angry face;
Thine parables drive home morals so great;
Sin's the thing, not the sinner, Thou did hate.
What love Thou had shown to the poor brethren?
And kindness too to the atheist, heathen.

poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet: Man, Thou Must Atone Now

Harass me not, Brother, harass me not;
Thou hast made blunder again, once again;
To have redressed my grievances, Thou ought,
Alas! Thou caused my heart to break with pain.

May be, Thou couldst create my file thine way;
Each person's file is maintained by One Boss;
None can prevent Truth's final Win some day;
Thine paper-work will soon be proved as farce.

Please rectify thine past mistakes somehow,
Lest God's punishment should descend on Thee;
Atone thine sin in action now and Now;
Man's cleverness can fai1 him miserably.

Why pick on me when I had done no wrong?
Canst Thou pay damages for suff 'rings long?

poem by John Celes
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Sonnet: Envy

In human hearts, the fire of Envy burns,
All night and day, since birth until one’s death!
No matter what lessons the mind still learns,
The eyes of Envy stay green till last breath.

Why should Envy occupy the heart’s core?
Does God not give talents to all the men?
To everyone, He opens a new door!
Just sinless labor will earn him Heaven.

But not all men are made of same substance;
Yet, plenty can be done in any field;
One’s toil’s outweighed by environment and chance;
To suppress others, powers never wield!

The poison, Envy devours any heart,
And spells chaos and doom for any art.

poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Gnothi Seauton

I

If thou canst bear
Strong meat of simple truth
If thou durst my words compare
With what thou thinkest in my soul’s free youth,
Then take this fact unto thy soul,-----
God dwells in thee.
It is no metaphor nor parable,
It is unknown to thousands, and to thee;
Yet there is God.

II

He is in thy world,
But thy world knows him not.
He is the mighty Heart
From which life’s varied pulses part.
Clouded and shrouded there doth sit
The Infinite
Embosomed in a man;
And thou art stranger to thy guest
And know’st not what thou doth invest.
The clouds that veil his life within
Are thy thick woven webs of sin,
Which his glory struggling through
Darkens to thine evil hue.

III

Then bear thyself, O man!
Up to the scale and compass of thy guest;
Soul of thy soul.
Be great as doth beseem
The ambassador who bears
The royal presence where he goes.

IV

Give up to thy soul-----
Let it have its way-----
It is, I tell thee, God himself,
The selfsame One that rules the Whole,
Tho’ he speaks thro’ thee with a stifled voice,
And looks through thee, shorn of his beams.
But if thou listen to his voice,
If thou obey the royal thought,
It will grow clearer to thine ear,
More glorious to thine eye.
The clouds will burst that veil him now
And thou shalt see the Lord.

V

Therefore be great,
Not proud,-----too great to be proud.
Let not thine eyes rove,
Peep not in corners; let thine eyes
Look straight before thee, as befits
The simplicity of Power.
And in thy closet carry state;
Filled with light, walk therein;
And, as a king
Would do no treason to his own empire,
So do not thou to thine.

VI

This is the reason why thou dost recognize
Things now first revealed,
Because in thee resides
The Spirit that lives in all;
And thou canst learn the laws of nature
Because its author is latent in thy breast.

VII

Therefore, O happy youth,
Happy if thou dost know and love this truth,
Thou art unto thyself a law,
And since the soul of things is in thee,
Thou needest nothing out of thee.
The law, the gospel, and the Providence,
Heaven, Hell, the Judgement, and the stores
Immeasurable of Truth and Good,
All these thou must find
Within thy single mind,
Or never find.

VIII

Thou art the law;
The gospel has no revelation
Of peace and hope until there is response
From the deep chambers of thy mind thereto,-----
The rest is straw.
It can reveal no truth unknown before.
The Providence
Thou art thyself that doth dispense
Wealth to thy work, want to thy sloth,
Glory to goodness, to neglect, the moth.
Thou sow’st the wind, the whirlwind reapest,
Thou payest the wages
Of thy own work, through all ages.
The almighty energy within
Crowneth virtue, curseth sin.
Virtue sees by its own light;
Stumbleth sin in self-made night.

IX

Who approves thee doing right?
God in thee.
Who condemns thee doing wrong?
God in thee.
Who punishes thine evil deed?
God in thee.
What is thine evil meed?
Thy worse mind, with error blind
And more prone to evil
That is, the greater hiding of the God within:
The loss of peace
The terrible displeasure of this inmate
And next the consequence
More faintly as more distant wro’t
Upon our outward fortunes
Which decay with vice
With Virtue rise.

X

The selfsame God
By the same law
Makes the souls of angels glad
And the souls of devils sad
See
There is nothing else but God
Where e'er I look
All things hasten back to him
Light is but his shadow dim.

XI

Shall I ask wealth or power of God, who gave
An image of himself to be my soul?
As well might swilling ocean ask a wave,
Or the starred firmament a dying coal,-----
For that which is in me lives in the whole.

poem by Ralph Waldo Emerson
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Upon The Barren Fig-Tree In God's Vineyard

What, barren here! in this so good a soil?
The sight of this doth make God's heart recoil
From giving thee his blessing; barren tree,
Bear fruit, or else thine end will cursed be!
Art thou not planted by the water-side?
Know'st not thy Lord by fruit is glorified?
The sentence is, Cut down the barren tree:
Bear fruit, or else thine end will cursed be.
Hast thou been digg'd about and dunged too,
Will neither patience nor yet dressing do?
The executioner is come, O tree,
Bear fruit, or else thine end will cursed be!
He that about thy roots takes pains to dig,
Would, if on thee were found but one good fig,
Preserve thee from the axe: but, barren tree,
Bear fruit, or else thy end will cursed be!
The utmost end of patience is at hand,
'Tis much if thou much longer here doth stand.
O cumber-ground, thou art a barren tree.
Bear fruit, or else thine end will cursed be!
Thy standing nor they name will help at all;
When fruitful trees are spared, thou must fall.
The axe is laid unto thy roots, O tree!
Bear fruit, or else thine end will cursed be.

poem by John Bunyan
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Sonnet- Woman

Woman, thou art no goddess but human!
A creature of God thro’ Adam and Eve;
With flesh and blood like any other man;
In love and destiny, thou should believe.

Thou art no object of Love and passion;
Like man thou must too feel the hunger pangs;
Thou must seduce the man by tradition;
Let not thine teeth turn into poison-fangs!

Woman, love-making's not thine profession;
Labour, thou must to deliver children;
Life is not fun, mere frolic and fashion;
Let not the Serpent veer thee from Heaven.
Woman, thy role on earth is so divine;
Thou must not be the vice for men like wine.

poem by John Celes
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Green Eyed Monster

Green eyed monster
keep away.
Don't want envy
to ruin my day.

Keep your money.
Keep your wealth.
I need peace.
I need health.

Green eyed monster
you're no friend.
You're just livin'
around the bend

waitin' for
all the poor
to come a-knockin'
at your door.

Green eyed monster
can't get me.
I'm content
just being me.

poem by Edwina Reizer
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Give to Love

Love came knocking on thy door
With you in sight to love and adore
But thine did give
All that thou have and
need to live?
You gave thine lips for love to speak
You gave thine heart for love's heart's weak
You gave thine face, to love to trace
its tears across thee a sorrowful place
thou give to thy loss when it comes to love!
You gave thine soul to love's control
You gave love thy hand to hold
You gave thy feet for love to kiss
You gave thy happiness to love's bliss
You gave thy breast for love to touch
You gave thine body for love to clutch.
But what did love give thee?
Love took and took and left thee with nothing!
With nothing now you are at peace, thou art free!
This is what love did to me!

poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Thine Beauty

I bath myself with thy beauty thine
To conceal myself under thee
Warm flesh molded from beauty divine
Solaces pain that inhabits me
I live for you to live free
Gracious, graceful thy sweetly give
All thine love to live in me
By thine beauty with beauty does my love live
So if thou love me like thou say
Thou know that it's thee
That thy beauty and love doth play
In you and in me
Reflecting always in each other's mind
Thine beauty and love, we doth always find…

poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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The Mediator

O Christ, true Son of God most high,
Thy name we praise for ever;
Whoe'er to Thee for help doth cry
Shall find Thee fail him never;
'Tis Thou wilt plead,
Thou intercede
With God, for us who need Thy prayers so sore:
Thy bitter strife
Hath wrought us life,
And Thine be thanks and praise for evermore!

To Thee the Father giveth now
All power in earth and heaven;
Sin, Satan, Death to Thee must bow,
All fetters Thou hast riven,
Bade fear to cease,
And made our peace,
That now to God we dare our hearts outpour:
Thy bitter strife
Hath wrought us life,
And Thine be thanks and praise for evermore!

Fulness of grace is in Thy Word;
The Life, the Truth, the Way
To life eternal art Thou, Lord;
To Thee alone we pray,
Who didst appear
A servant here
To bear the sin that crushed the world before:
Thy bitter strife
Hath wrought us life,
And Thine be thanks and praise for evermore!

poem by Hans Sachs
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Avowal

Rise up o' fearless hearts
On avowal of flourishing refrains
Sown are red and green
Thou energetic wheel to glean
Tranquil in thou heart of peace

Hitherto brawl and blast
Let be blighted no more to last
Avow to thou Mother, Her soul
Integrated in peace to be propitious all
Avow thy weapon of unity

Rise up o' valiant hearts
May thou rage outpour in lots
To plough thou ambrosial land
Manured of those brave hearts laid
To diffuse thou nature of fragrance
Avow o'bold hearts, avow thou might

poem by Indira Renganathan
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The Gifts of God

THE LIGHT that fills thy house at morn,
Thou canst not for thyself retain;
But all who with thee here are born,
It bids to share an equal gain.

The wind that blows thy ship along,
Her swelling sails cannot confine;
Alike to all the gales belong,
Nor canst thou claim a breath as thine.

The earth, the green out-spreading earth,
Why hast thou fenced it off from me?
Hadst thou than I a nobler birth,
Who callest thine a gift so free?

The wave, the blue encircling wave,
No chains can bind, no fetters hold;
Its thunders tell of Him who gave
What none can ever buy for gold.

poem by Jones Very
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