Pope John Paul II (A Biography Poem Sequence)
Karol Josef Wojtyla was
Born in Poland’s town, Wadowice,
On May,18th,1920,
Grew up to be remarkably!
The son of Pole army father,
And loving school-teacher mother,
He was athlete, soccer-player,
A dare-devil river-swimmer!
He loved to be a good actor;
Love for literature, a factor;
He worked part-time as stone-cutter,
As Nazis downed every shutter!
When eight-years’ old, his mother died;
When still quite young, his brother died;
When twenty years old, father died;
The loss of dear lives, he couldn’t hide!
His mother, brother, father died;
Nation was Nazi-occupied!
A quarry work, gave him the buck
The war deprived Karol good luck!
His mother’s death affected his
Life on earth that had turned amiss;
The violent blows opened up new
Spiritual depths of heart to view.
His father fell upon his knees
In prayer, asking God for peace;
This man had taught him what’s duty,
And explained things of mystery.
He saw the frenzied Nazis kill;
Yet, it was also holy will;
He drew from God his strength while ill;
His faith gave him a hearty fill!
He helped the Jews from Nazis’ hands;
He loved to travel across lands;
When call to priest-hood came one day,
From accident, in bed, he lay.
Ordained as priest in ’46,
Became Bishop in ’58,
Vicar capitular, even,
Cardinal in ’67.
He rose to be a good leader;
He was a poet and writer;
Communism was his one hate!
He was made Pope in ’78!
He was the first pope from Poland;
And shot in Peter’s Square, his land!
He prayed to Mother Mary and
Recovered through her divine hand!
He met assassin in prison,
Forgiving him, his murder-sin;
His talk to him was kept secret;
To youngsters, he opened his heart!
First World Youth Day was held in Rome;
With people young, he was at home;
They were to live by Bible’s Word,
And spread the message of Christ Lord.
He went to see the Holy Land!
His life was linked home Poland,
That gave him his Christian vision,
And on earth, his papal mission!
His heart had roots in Polish soil;
His antecedence, made him toil;
He was a modern global pope,
Who gave mankind, a special hope!
He was an intellectual man,
Who came out of the Vatican,
And founded churches everywhere;
And breathed for long, a friendly air!
He worked to make peace with all Jews;
He was a pope always in news;
He was the most popular pope;
Despite all darkness, he didn’t grope!
He raised his voice against evils;
He cautioned all against devils;
He listed out the mortal sins
That filled the modern man’s soul-bins!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 12-01-2009
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Pope John Paul II (A Biography Poem Sequence-1)
The Pope’s Childhood Days:
His home was near to Peter’s square;
The Church had cast its spiritual air
That made Karol, a pope at last,
And rather young and very fast!
His pious parents reared him well;
Prayers were done as if by bell;
As altar-boy in his parish,
His childhood days, he did cherish.
The passion plays of Calvary,
Brought him to Christ, Mother Mary;
His chief weapon, the rosary
Helped war against Satan wary.
His childhood days were prayerful;
The chapel was so wonderful;
Karol was on his knees for long,
Meditating on things gone wrong.
Alone, he prayed with outstretched hands,
With face down on the stone-floor sands;
Engrossed in prayer, he had spent
Long hours with God, with body bent!
The Nazi-boot noise hurt him much;
He slept upon the floor, not couch;
With body spread like perfect cross,
Praying in silence, without pause.
The screaming sirens rent the air;
The noise of explosions was there;
Karol unperturbed walked his way
Across the bridge to Church, to pray!
He had submitted to God’s will;
A sense of calm just kept him still;
While hell was breaking loose around,
Young Karol stood fearless and sound.
He held some persons in esteem;
The modern science was not a dream;
Yet, Karol was aflame with God,
And speaking rather, looking odd.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 12-01-2009
poem by John Celes
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Pope John Paul II (A Biography Poem Sequence-4)
Faith of the Millennial Pope: contd
He prayed to Mary and all saints,
And drew from them, his divine paints,
That sketched the glorious work of God,
And brought more souls to Lord’s abode!
Faith sustains man throughout his life,
Providing answers for things rife;
His passion for depicting truth,
Did bear him ultimately, fruit.
The pope, a philosopher great
Was preacher too, with clean a slate;
He loved all mystical debate;
Communism, he did well hate!
His link with God was quite profound;
His faith had strong roots in Poland;
The murders of the Holocaust,
An upheaval of heart had caused.
He fought against ‘culture of death’;
He was Christ-centered right from birth;
Spirit mattered in life on earth;
Christ was the crucified God-Mirth!
How could man live in harmony
Away from God, with just money?
How could there be a destiny
Without a true eternity?
To him, Christ was the only hope,
For mankind’s woes, and every pope;
That came from suff’ring on the cross,
And showed that Christ was God and Boss!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 12-01-2009
poem by John Celes
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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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Easter Day 2009
When Christ was born
One early morn,
And angels sang,
As loud bells rang;
Peace came to earth
Through this great birth,
And world had joy
By baby boy!
The Son of God
Was born a man
In virgin’s womb
In stable-room!
He grew up wise,
Without a vice,
And showed His ken
To men, women!
His Father’s word,
He spoke like sword;
And drove devils,
And fought evils!
Through parables,
On vales and hills,
He preached to all
To hear God’s call!
Upon the cross,
He died because
His Father said
And kept His head;
Third day, He rose
To keep His course,
And gave new hope,
And world a pope!
The risen Christ
Is King highest,
And welcomes souls
With divine roles;
On Easter day,
God shows the way
To heaven’s bliss,
Which none should miss!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 4-12-2009
poem by John Celes
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The Pope in US
(A poetic gist by Dr John Celes, India)
A historical moment for the world;
Pope 265 set foot on US soil;
Pope Benedict XVI was his name
The Apostle of peace and human rights;
He planned his itinerary with shrewdness;
He touched upon all themes that plague the world;
He brought the only hope to US- Christ;
‘With faith, let’s encounter the living God.’
He timed his visit when he thought most fit;
‘Humanism must be revived quickly.’
Modern world dabbled with key issues now.
The foundation of faith was in doldrums.
The heart of man could not be won by war;
For lasting peace, dialogue was needed;
He left his mark, indelible behind;
America could not forget the Pope!
The Gentle Giant spoke in candid terms;
The world cannot rely on human strength;
The help of God was needed doubtlessly;
He brought to US blessings from heaven!
The nation’s heart and mind was enraptured;
They heard the Pope’s message most lovingly;
God’s humble servant made them even laugh;
All human life was sacred until death!
All Catholics were directed to follow
The teachings of the Holy Catholic Church;
They should reflect their faith in daily lives;
And leaders weren’t exception to this rule.
Human sexuality was sacrosanct;
All clerics must be pure in heart and soul;
Few good priests were better than many bad;
The Church and world were at cross-roads today!
Society’s foundations were crumbling fast!
Good families formed framework of the church;
Morality couldn’t be thrown to the winds;
Freedom entailed preserving one’s virtues.
Vicar of Christ- the Pope lauded US;
‘May God bless America even more! ’
Americans should set an example
In earthly life to others in the globe!
Prez Bush saw God very eyes of Pope!
Pope came to feed those souls hungry for God;
He prayed terrorists’ hatred hearts too change;
Love was the one weapon to win all wars!
The world was glad to see Pope in US!
May be, God would do miracles through him;
‘The sheep were happy with their Good Shepherd! ’
May be, the world would make a new beginning!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 4-22-2008
poem by John Celes
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Life of St. Padre Pio of Pietrelcina (in verse)
A baby boy was born
To peasants, one fine morn;
And christened Francesco,
A day after birth, Oh!
Much pious was the lad,
In world so very bad;
He prayed a lot in life,
And didn’t mind any strife!
He loved to be a priest,
And work for Jesus Christ;
And loved the cassock brown
Of Capuchins in town!
He talked with Christ each day,
And guardian angel Fay;
And Mother Mary too –
His duty well, to do!
He joined the Friary,
As per his wish-diary;
And took his priestly vows,
In Capuchin’s main House!
He lived a humble life,
Despite his sickness rife;
And saw Christ in his dreams:
All crucified, it seems!
He chose the suff’ring way;
And so, in illness lay;
He took the prayer-key,
Opening Eternity!
God gave him unique gifts,
And spiritual uplifts;
He wrought miracles great,
And kept soul like clean slate.
He was a good preacher;
He was a good teacher;
And said the Holy Mass;
Heard confessions, Alas!
He loved the Holy Cross;
Christ Jesus was his boss;
He prayed the Rosary
Fervently to Mary.
He lived to ripe old age,
And turned to be a sage;
They saw him in places
Afar, with love’s gazes.
He used to tell others:
Pray, Hope – sisters, brothers;
And don’t worry at all:
God lifts you if you fall.
‘Confess your sins’, he said;
‘Fill soul with grace instead;
Avoid Almighty’s rod,
And take more souls to God.’
Christ’s stigmata, he had:
The wounds painfully bled;
But just before his death,
They healed with his last breath!
Christ’s stigmata, He bore,
For fifty years or more;
The crucifix, he held
All life, as God’s love welled!
Close to his heart, the Cross –
Yes, Jesus was his boss!
His love of God was great;
For sins, he had a hate.
A poor friar, he was,
And toiled for divine cause;
Despite a not good health,
But virtues – his one wealth!
God made him ‘Blessed’ soon,
And canonized him – boon
To Capuchin’s order,
That spread his good odor!
Even the earth, may be,
Without the sun surely;
But Holy Mass is one
Sacrifice of God’s Son!
Lovingly dedicated to St. Padre Pio
Copyright by Dr John Celes 5-20-2008
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pope John Paul II (A Biography Poem Sequence-3)
Faith of the Millennial Pope: contd
No papal word touches man’s heart,
Howev’r appealing, full of art,
Unless refined by grace of God,
And blessed by Christ himself, the Lord.
The pope did therefore meet his sheep,
To pray for them and even weep,
Converting souls through God’s own grace,
And throwing queries on their face!
To him, man’s faith was number one;
All things were next under the sun;
His moments with the people meant,
Reconciling with transcendent!
His motorcade was majestic –
The moments inspiring, magic;
His rendezvous with God’s creatures
Gave occasion for great lectures!
Each moment was a bolt from blue;
Lost sheep to God, the pope would woo;
The moment was mystical too;
To souls, much goodness, it would do.
The pope shared his testimony;
That didn’t stem from greed of money;
The pope bore witness to his faith;
‘God only changes sinner’s fate’.
His heart was Catholic, fierce and true;
By quest for truth, he would move, do;
Miracles did happen in life;
Both faith and tongue worked like a knife!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 12-01-2009
poem by John Celes
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A Tribute To My Revered Father
My Father was a great teacher,
Good husband to my good Mother;
He taught his pupils very well;
In an old house, did he dwell.
Well he reared his children seven!
Lived for up to eight times ten;
His forehead sweat fell on the soil;
My Father so well, did he toil.
A man who possessed great talents;
And honesty par excellence;
Cheap Politics did he eschew;
This world hath seen but very few.
He lived in humble conditions;
A law-abiding citizen;
He gave us good education;
And raised us well in religion.
He’as born and bred in piety;
And rose in popularity;
A logic-man, Philosopher;
None could him well decipher.
A versatile man, Orator;
He tried to make a new order;
Oppressed, he died with plenty peace;
Yet in god, he lived in ease.
His learning to him was his wealth!
Together with his body’s health;
And she was great too, my Mother;
Who well-supported my Father.
A human ‘immortal’-being!
With yeoman-service worth seeing;
He loved the poor and downtrodden;
That fetched him place sure in Heaven.
But one day when he died, I cried!
By Heaven’s words, he did abide;
God-fearing, undaunted, he left;
For his great soul, a lot I wept.
I see him as a bright new Star!
In the night-Sky clearly, afar;
Oh what a great man Father was!
Truthfulness was his greatest cause.
Fondly dedicated in loving memory of my beloved father
Shri. A.T.Antoniswami M.A., L.T., Coimbatore
poem by John Celes
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People I Belong To
Oh my father, he was a brother
He worked his body hard to make ends meet
Oh my mother remained his lover
The things they did, the things they said
Go round and round inside my head, for good
Oh my brother, when he was a schoolboy
He gave up all his dreams to take on mine
Oh my brother, now I have me one other
The things weve said, the things weve done
Stay in my heart since I was young
And oh this world wont change for me
The special things in life are free
Ive always known and understood
There are people I belong to for good
Oh my lady, she want my baby
She get me through my days and through my nights
Oh my lover, now I have me no other
The things we do, the things we say
I get more and more love each day
And oh this world wont change for me
The special things in life are free
Ive always known and understood
There are people I belong to for good
Oh my mother and my father
And my brother and my lover
Oh my mother and my father
And my brother and my lover
song performed by by Gino Vanelli
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Who Are The Saints?
Just who are the Saints my friend, let The Word help you comprehend?
Are Saints a select religious few, selected by a tiny hand picked crew?
Are they made for worship by men, which by Christ will be condemned?
Or are they men like me and you, who have come into a life that’s new?
Call no one on earth Father Jesus said, it’s in Matthew haven’t you read?
For we have but one Father in Heaven, all else is simply religious leaven.
Men’s pious religious veneration, has nothing to do with true Salvation.
True Saints are humbled when, they realize they should be condemned.
All those who come to Christ in faith, are said by God to be His Saints.
Saints are the men set apart by God, while still upon this earth we trod.
We become a Saint when we believe, so please friend, don’t be deceived.
The Bible said that men would fall away, in the spiritual apostasy of today.
What about the Saints at Ephesus, should these men be respected less?
What about the Saints at Rome, the Pope or Vatican wasn’t even known?
Why not believe the words of Christ, if we’re serious about Eternal Life?
The Holy Spirit is the one who seals, all God’s living Saints who are real.
Our worship should go to only one; and that is God and His Only Son.
Just one mediator between God and man, this is easy to understand.
The mediator is Jesus Christ; for Christ is the One who gave His life.
He gave His life for me and you; Christ died so we could live life anew.
Because of His work on the cross, we enter God’s throne with boldness.
He now intercedes for the Saints, who pray to God through humble faith.
Soon Christ will call His Saints up, to return with Him in eternal triumph.
Then religious men in fear will faint, when they see Christ’s real Saints.
William Upson
Air -- "The Major's Only Son"
Come all good people, far and near,
Oh, come and see what you can hear,
It's of a young man, true and brave,
Who is now sleeping in his grave.
Now, William Upson was his name --
If it's not that it's all the same --
He did enlist in the cruel strife,
And it caused him to lose his life.
He was Jesse Upson's eldest son,
His father loved his noble son;
This son was nineteen years of age,
In the rebellion he engaged.
His father said that he might go,
But his dear mother she said no.
"Stay at home, dear Billy," she said,
But oh, she could not turn his head.
For go he would, and go he did --
He would not do as his mother bid,
For he went away down South, there
Where he could not have his mother's care.
He went to Nashville, Tennessee,
There his kind friends he could not see;
He died among strangers, far away,
They knew not where his body lay.
He was taken sick and lived four weeks,
And oh, how his parents weep,
But now they must in sorrow mourn,
Billy has gone to his heaven home.
If his mother could have seen her son,
For she loved him, her darling one,
If she could heard his dying prayer,
It would ease her heart till she met him there.
It would relieved his mother's heart,
To have seen her son from this world depart,
And hear his noble words of love,
As he left this world for that above.
It will relieve his mother's heart,
That her son is laid in our grave yard;
Now she knows that his grave is near,
She will not shed so many tears.
She knows not that it was her son,
His coffin could not be opened --
It might be some one in his place,
For she could not see his noble face.
He enrolled in eighteen sixty-three,
The next day after Christmas eve;
He died in eighteen sixty-four,
Twenty-third of March, as I was told.
poem by Julia A Moore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Do You Know the Son?
Do you know the Son, the one the Father gave?
Do you know the Son, who can save you from the grave?
The one who's got the crown from the Father up above?
The Word becoming flesh, to show the Father's love?
The Logos who came to Earth and was born but not by man
But by the Holy Spirit sent down by God's own hand.
The Son born in Bethlehem of Judea on that night;
The Son who is the one, whom in John is called the Light.
Yes, He's called the Light, and that's very true
For He came to light the way for men like me and you.
He is also called the Word, and if you did not know
He is the One who made all things so very long ago.
His name is Yeshua, the Christ, and now I'm telling you
Just what it was that God sent Him into the world to do.
God sent His Son to tell us about ourselves you see -
And how that if we did not change, we would end in misery.
He also showed us how to live and to make it ample;
He lived a life without sin; what a great example.
Now Yeshua is the Son of God and on this Earth he dwelt
'til the age of thirty three and, then the pain He felt.
Men on earth did not care about what He had to say;
All they thought of was themselves, so carted Him away.
And on the hill called Calvary, to a stake these men had made
They nailed my Saviour Yeshua the messuah, and there my debt He paid.
And as the blood poured forth from His hands, feet and side
If I then had been there like now I would have cried;
'cause of something else He had also come to say
Which was this that 'By His death He would take my sin away'
So, if you would believe that Yeshua died for you
Then you will also know your sins are forgiven too;
Do you know the Son, the one the Father gave?
The One called Yeshua, the Messiah, who died for you to save?
1 John 5: 20
It is to be noted that the Lord is not the eternal Son of God, but the Son of the eternal God; for there was no Son until he was born of Miriam, and born again at his resurrection, where it was declared to him by his Father, 'You are my Son, this day have I begotten you' this 'begotten' is reference to his resurrection, for he is the 'FIRSTBORN of many brethern' and 'we' at his coming. For we have been born again unto a living hope, that living hope is our LORD YESHUA/JESUS; for as he was raised to life. So too shall we be so raised if we press forward to the prize of the upward call in Messiah Yeshua our Lord, amen.
poem by Richard Merrell
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My Brother Bill
This is the sad true story about my brother Bill
who was four years older than me.
He was born and then tossed aside by his mother
who left him to his father’s parents to raise,
then promptly disappeared out of his life forever.
My grandparents brought him up
hoping his father would take care of him
when he returned from the war.
His father also my dad returned from the war
married with another son and didn’t want to know.
They gave him a nickname in private
so no one else would know.
In private, they always called him Dopey.
My sister and I were told
our grandparents had adopted him
and he was nothing to do with us.
When my dad’s parents died in 1958 and 59
plans were made to come back to England
where my mother’s parents were still alive
and leave Bill far behind.
Then as his mother had done eighteen years before
his father abandoned him as well.
For a while, he had to live on the streets
taking handout from where ever he could.
He was arrested for vagrancy and sent to jail.
Getting out he got himself a job and began to build a life.
He got married and started a family,
until one night he came home
and found his wife in bed with another man,
and a divorce followed and he was alone again.
Then after 25 years, his job vanished
and he had to find another.
One day in 2000, he got a telephone call
and did not know whether to believe it or not.
It was a call he never thought he would ever get,
a call from his younger brother - me.
As we talked on the phone, some truths came to pass
his brother and his sister did not know about him.
They were told he had been adopted
and were nothing to do with them.
However, I had found the truth,
which incensed my mother enough to disown me.
We met one another for the first time
after forty-two years in 2001 and again in 2002.
In 2003, this sad story ends,
in the March of that year
Bill succumbed to a heart attack.
His final words were a testament to his life.
No one loved me enough to care.
The sad truth is someone did
and that someone was me.
We never had enough time together,
circumstances kept us apart,
but he was my brother
and will remain in my heart.
2 November 2009
Authors Note:
The facts are as Bill told them to me. A sad refrain to a wonderful guy who was tainted by my parents as being bad and no good. If the truth were known he was probably better than the both of them. He was a guy who would give you the shirt of his back if you needed it. My brother Bill, may he now rest in peace.
DVH - 2009
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Oh, FATHER! - FEEL MY Untold LOVE! (Part-2)
When I think of all the things you GAVE me:
Your sacrifices in food; love and affection are some to name,
The list goes endless and I fail to count what you gave to me;
With your heart, your mind, your energy and your soul of fame!
Mother, oh mother, I am still your little son!
Father, Oh father, I love thee till I am done!
You burnt yourself like a CANDLE to give me light....
Your deeds are never dull; your love is never pale;
I count endless things you, an endless tale
All these you spent on me throughout the years.
Mother, oh mother, I am still your little son!
Father, Oh father, I love thee till I am done!
Now I am in foreign land tormented like an alien, I'm hurt!
I am sad yet I remember Rudyard Kipling's poem, 'If' –
There a father suggest 180 things to his son; What if?
I am not with you; yet your advices ring in heart!
Mother, oh mother, I am still your little son!
Father, Oh father, I love thee till I am done!
I cherish our relationship forever and a day,
Till earth exists and sun sparkles in every way,
Till Stars twinkle and moon delights I carry your name,
Till death may do us apart yet I carry all the same
Mother, oh mother, I am still your little son!
Father, Oh father, I love thee till I am done!
We are separated by boundaries narrow.....
Yet in my memories, I'm with as your shadow;
I may carry your fortunes for while.....
Yet I carry your hope for a mile;
Mother, oh mother, I am still your little son!
Father, Oh father, I love thee till I am done! ................................................. .......................
A BIG NOTICE BOARD:
*Your attention please: Just take a break! Now READ part 1 to make your reading wholesome. PART 2 of the poem
Oh, FATHER! - FEEL MY Untold LOVE! (Part-1)
poem by Harindhar Reddy
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God’s Love is Christmas
The love of God was born on Christmas Day,
As baby Jesus slept upon the hay,
With Star of Bethlehem showing the way,
To Magi, who worshipped him, as he lay!
The love of God was showered upon earth,
As Virgin Mother Mary gave this birth,
And bestowed upon mankind immense mirth,
As living life on earth got back its worth!
God Himself came to earth as baby boy,
And brought the peace and everlasting joy,
Through His one Son, the King of kings and Lord,
As sins were forgiven including rod.
The love that entered earth from God’s own heart,
Took human form to live in poverty,
And gave the world new hope and destiny –
Unraveled mystery great on God’s part.
The God of love showed love unfathomed yet;
For man, His most beloved of all creatures;
And opened heaven to all, new trend-set,
As souls of mankind went into raptures!
O Emmanuel, the world welcomes You, Lord;
O Messiah, the world accepts You, God.
No death or tribulations matter now,
As mankind pledges its obeisance, love!
Thus, Christmas Day is all about God’s love,
Uniquely unsurpassed and rather rare,
And gave the Holy Cross for Son to bear,
Redeeming sinners, sending His peace-dove.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 12-25-2009
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Three Hours of Darkness
When upon the Cross of Calvary, great darkness fell for all to see,
For three hours upon the land, a darkness many didn’t understand,
That time after Christ was crucified, the time He suffered and died,
A time filled with silence too, when Christ had died for me and you.
Darkness surrounded His death, as He approached His last breath,
Darkness on the land was unfurled, around The Light of The World.
Silence fell on the mocking crowd, whose evil shout was very loud,
As the light scattered the darkness, hearts again, showed hardness.
Upon Christ God placed on Him, the darkened iniquity of man’s sin,
Made to be sin for Adam’s race, upon that cross He took our place,
And God couldn’t look and see, that sin Christ bore for you and me,
So through that dark span of time, God the Father had turned aside.
As Christ was on that bloody stake, the Son, the Father did forsake,
He gave His spirit, at His last breath, to His Father, as He saw death,
The earth quaked, opening graves, and bodies of saints were raised,
And as that Temple Curtain torn, the Age of Grace by God was born.
A soldier with sword and rod, said “surely that was The Son of God.”
The Son of God for all sinners lost, was taken down from the cross,
Thinking of that cross, we must recall, the Lamb of God died for all,
He died upon a bloody stake, so His Resurrection we could partake.
(Copyright ©04/2009)
Oh, FATHER! - FEEL MY Untold LOVE! (Part-1)
At schooltime, my father left me at house gringo!
Yet I Kept my tender heart at home of lingo!
When I quested, for fate “he is right as rain.”
Tender tears exploded like MISSILES yet in vein;
Mother, oh mother, I am still your little son!
Father, Oh father, I love thee till I am done!
While I missed mother’s love and father’s stories
All the night I stood without sleep with many worries
I asked the god, why two legs and hands!
Why not two bodies and two souls for errands!
Mother, oh mother, I am still your little son!
Father, Oh father, I love thee till I am done!
Sugarcane Juice, peanuts and berries!
Our green fields, summer holidays and holy tours!
When thousand memories flashes in mind, now,
How much I miss mom's care! How much I miss dad’s love!
Mother, oh mother, I am still your little son!
Father, Oh father, I love thee till I am done!
The small buns you bought for me still smell good,
The grapes brought, coming from city is still my favorite food;
The fruits you brought me with roots; are they heaven sent?
Yet I didn’t pay any rent pay as you are my parent!
Mother, oh mother, I am still your little son!
Father, Oh father, I love thee till I am done!
Do you know who my MAHATMA is? Oh, my brother!
He is not Mandela, nor Gandhi but my father
Who taught me A to Z rather?
What to do and what not to do, I gather!
Mother, oh mother, I am still your little son!
Father, Oh father, I love thee till I am done!
When I think of all the things you gave to me:
Your sacrifices in food; love and affection are some to name,
............................................. ................................................. .....
*A big NOTICE BOARD: Oops! Sorry the poem is NOT completed. This is just break time! Now continue Your reading in part 2 the poem.
Oh, FATHER! - FEEL MY Untold LOVE! (Part-2) contin'd in part 2.. Read it.
poem by Harindhar Reddy
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The Forsaken
Holy Mother of God, Merciful Mary. Hear me! I am very weary. I have come
from a village miles away, all day I have been coming, and I ache for such
far roaming. I cannot walk as light as I used, and my thoughts grow confused.
I am heavier than I was. Mary Mother, you know the cause!
Beautiful Holy Lady, take my shame away from me! Let this fear
be only seeming, let it be that I am dreaming. For months I have hoped
it was so, now I am afraid I know. Lady, why should this be shame,
just because I haven't got his name. He loved me, yes, Lady, he did,
and he couldn't keep it hid. We meant to marry. Why did he die?
That day when they told me he had gone down in the avalanche, and could not
be found until the snow melted in Spring, I did nothing. I could not cry.
Why should he die? Why should he die and his child live? His little child
alive in me, for my comfort. No, Good God, for my misery! I cannot face
the shame, to be a mother, and not married, and the poor child to be reviled
for having no father. Merciful Mother, Holy Virgin, take away this sin I did.
Let the baby not be. Only take the stigma off of me!
I have told no one but you, Holy Mary. My mother would call me 'whore',
and spit upon me; the priest would have me repent, and have
the rest of my life spent in a convent. I am no whore, no bad woman,
he loved me, and we were to be married. I carried him always in my heart,
what did it matter if I gave him the least part of me too? You were a virgin,
Holy Mother, but you had a son, you know there are times when a woman
must give all. There is some call to give and hold back nothing.
I swear I obeyed God then, and this child who lives in me is the sign.
What am I saying? He is dead, my beautiful, strong man! I shall never
feel him caress me again. This is the only baby I shall have.
Oh, Holy Virgin, protect my baby! My little, helpless baby!
He will look like his father, and he will be as fast a runner and as good
a shot. Not that he shall be no scholar neither. He shall go to school
in winter, and learn to read and write, and my father will teach him to carve,
so that he can make the little horses, and cows, and chamois,
out of white wood. Oh, No! No! No! How can I think such things,
I am not good. My father will have nothing to do with my boy,
I shall be an outcast thing. Oh, Mother of our Lord God, be merciful,
take away my shame! Let my body be as it was before he came.
No little baby for me to keep underneath my heart for those long months.
To live for and to get comfort from. I cannot go home and tell my mother.
She is so hard and righteous. She never loved my father, and we were born
for duty, not for love. I cannot face it. Holy Mother, take my baby away!
Take away my little baby! I don't want it, I can't bear it!
And I shall have nothing, nothing! Just be known as a good girl.
Have other men want to marry me, whom I could not touch, after having known
my man. Known the length and breadth of his beautiful white body,
and the depth of his love, on the high Summer Alp, with the moon above,
and the pine-needles all shiny in the light of it. He is gone, my man,
I shall never hear him or feel him again, but I could not touch another.
I would rather lie under the snow with my own man in my arms!
So I shall live on and on. Just a good woman. With nothing to warm my heart
where he lay, and where he left his baby for me to care for. I shall not be
quite human, I think. Merely a stone-dead creature. They will respect me.
What do I care for respect! You didn't care for people's tongues
when you were carrying our Lord Jesus. God had my man give me my baby,
when He knew that He was going to take him away. His lips will comfort me,
his hands will soothe me. All day I will work at my lace-making,
and all night I will keep him warm by my side and pray the blessed Angels
to cover him with their wings. Dear Mother, what is it that sings?
I hear voices singing, and lovely silver trumpets through it all. They seem
just on the other side of the wall. Let me keep my baby, Holy Mother.
He is only a poor lace-maker's baby, with a stain upon him,
but give me strength to bring him up to be a man.
poem by Amy Lowell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Priest with Christ’s Stigmata – St. Padre Pio of Pietrelcina
A baby boy was born
to Catholic parents both –
Father, Grazio and mother, Maria,
On May25,1887,
In Pietrelcina, town in Italy.
Fourth amongst the seven children,
He was baptized next day as Francesco,
After St. Francis of Assisi,
At Castle Church.
He was a special child of God.
The Forgione family
Was pious to the core;
They were just peasants;
Although, they could not read or write,
They kept God above everything:
Attending daily mass;
Reciting Rosary,
And fasting quite often;
They told their children
Bible stories and Scriptures
By heart!
Strong faith in Jesus Christ
Was nurtured in Pio
When he was only five!
He spoke to Jesus,
Mother Mary,
And guardian angel,
And suffered temptations
From devils.
When only ten years’ old,
He yearned to be a friar
Of the Capuchin order.
He joined the order
And took the habit
When he was fifteen,
And the name, Pio
After Saint Pius V.
At twenty-three,
He was ordained priest,
And said his first mass,
Four days later.
A month later,
He got the stigmata
Of Jesus Christ;
Unable to bear
The annoyance,
He prayed;
The wounds vanished
For a while.
Pio desired to suffer
Secretly.
Due to illness,
Pio was sent home
But kept his friar life –
Said mass,
And taught at school.
He went to the friary
Of Our Lady of Grace,
And led a holy, simple life.
Ordered to work
In the Italian Medical Corps,
He was unhappy,
But was discharged soon.
Pio grew up in piety;
‘Prepare for battle in the morning;
Purify your soul in the evening;
Pray, hope and don’t worry.’ –
Were his keys to spiritual success.
Pio prayed for the end to the World War;
He saw Christ and got a wound on his side;
It showed his love of God and vice-versa.
In 1918, he saw the wounded Christ
And received the Visible Stigmata:
The five wounds of Jesus Christ
Forever – a gift of God!
The wounds were painful
And bled from time to time.
For fifty years, he bore
The stigmata of Christ!
The blood had an odor of perfume;
He could Prophesy and foretell;
Bilocation was his unique power.
He read the sins of persons
Who came to him to confess.
Padre Pio became famous
So, did the Friary and the Church;
People flocked to see and confess sins;
Pio became very busy;
He’d barely just two hours to sleep!
Spiritual fame brought detractors;
False accusations were leveled;
They tried to curb his work-schedule;
They tried to transfer him afar.
Undeterred, Padre Pio continued;
The ban on Mass was soon reversed;
His faculties were soon restored;
He was also allowed to preach.
More pilgrims flocked to visit him;
He heard their confessions promptly;
Pio started a Medical Center;
A larger Church was constructed.
He’s known now internationally!
With over-work, he became ill;
And bed-ridden in 1968.
He died in the early morning;
As he’d foretold, he lived sick
But died healthy, at 81 yrs’ of age,
on September 23,1968.
With the stigmata,
All healed!
A lakh of people attended
His holy funeral!
His yoke though heavy,
In Christ became easy;
And his burden light,
When borne with faith in Christ.
The crucified Christ
Had chosen the lad
To be a priest,
And make Him glad.
He was declared ‘Blessed’
On May,2,1999,
And Saint, on June 16,2002
Both by Pope John Paul II.
He’d drawn a lot of souls,
Closer to God!
Padre Pio loved to repeat:
‘I’m a poor Franciscan who prays;
Prayer is the best weapon, we have –
A key that opens the Heart of God! ’
Copyright by Dr John Celes 5-19-2008
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Good Friday...
Behold the wood that went to make the cross
That bore the Saviour Lord, King Jesus Christ:
The holy cross at Calvary on which
Was hung, the Redeemer of mankind race!
That man was only Son of God in flesh,
Who suffered, shed His precious blood as price
For every sin of everyone on earth,
Of Adam and of Eve in lineage!
It wasn’t about the cross that Jesus bore;
It was about the One who hung on it!
He came to earth as Mary’s baby boy,
And gave to men the Good News, peace and joy!
The cross of wood assumed significance
When Jesus died upon it for our sins;
The sacrifice supreme was love of God
For creature man of clay whom He had made!
When Christ resurrected upon third day,
And won o’er death and satan for all times,
The holy cross became the weapon sole
That scares away the devils back to hell!
The cross became the symbol of Christians,
Reminding man of Salvation for all,
As Christ had paid the price on our behalf,
And turned to be the Truth, Light, Way to God!
The holy cross beckons each one of us
To take up each one’s cross and follow Christ;
It is the only hope for all mankind
As life on earth becomes so meaningful!
God’s Love was born on Christmas day as Christ!
Man’s sins nailed Him to death upon the cross!
Christ’s obeisance to Father freed mankind
If repentant, from Fiery Pit of hell!
Reflect on passions Christ had undergone,
Before He died upon the holy cross;
Follow His teachings and precepts for man;
Heaven is nigh for sinners penitent!
(22-04-11)
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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