Sonnet: All Creatures are Equal ‘fore God’s Eyes
‘What mammoth frame, ivory tusks, I’ve got! ’
‘No forest-king or beast dare challenge me! ’
‘I lift tree-trunks and battles too I’ve fought! ’
‘I stand and sleep: eat grass, green leaves only.’
The Ant that heard the Elephant’s words said:
‘Tho’ small in size, I labor hard, day/night! ’
‘I eat the biggest beast and men who’re dead! ’
‘I disappear in small cracks out of sight! ’
Each one on earth has merits/demerits;
God made all beings with purpose innate;
One can’t compare the poets that have writ,
Nor can we harbor jealousy or hate.
God expects just some things for which we’re made;
A heart’s a heart: a spade always a spade.
9-13-2002
poem by John Celes
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Related quotes
Spade
The beauty spot was borrowed
Now my sweet knife rusts tomorrow
I'm a confession that is waiting to be heard
Burn your empty rain down on me
Whisper your deathbeat so softly
We bend our knees at the alter of my ego
You drained my heart, and made a spade
There's still traces of me in your veins
You drained my heart, and made a spade
There's still traces of me in your veins
All my lilies' mouths are open, like they're begging for dope and hoping
their bitter petal chant, "we can kick, you wont be back"
Im a diamond that is tired, of all the faces i've aquired, we must secure the shadow ere the substance fades
You drained my heart, and made a spade
There's still traces of me in your veins
You drained my heart, and made a spade
There's still traces of me in your veins
And we said 'til we die
And we said 'til we die
You drained my heart, and made a spade
There's still traces of me in your veins
You drained my heart, and made a spade
There's still traces of me in your veins
You drained my heart, and made a spade
There's still traces of me in your veins
You drained my heart, and made a spade
There's still traces of me in your veins
And we said 'til we die
And we said 'til we die
song performed by by Marilyn Manson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Well, Say It As You See It
it is nice
yes, always the feeling is nice
when you call a spade a spade
lets your heart out
nothing tightens
or chokes
nothing to vomit
at the end
nothing hidden
well, they laid the principle
of candid honesty
say it as it pleases you
not as it pleases them
always, yes, always
call a spade a spade
that is rule # one
honesty, that lonely word
well, i learned it by heart
learning to say
what is in my mind
but what do i get?
nothing
everyone is displeased
with my honesty
that i am one tactless
form of shit
this monstrous mammal
this elephant with a tusk
this snake with a venom
this mischievous child
laughing at the
naked emperor
without clothes
well, yes, i still say what i see
calling a spade always a spade
and what do i get?
yes, this one,
nothing but this one
this poetry
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Spade
In my heart, my love fades
To the small corners of dark color spades
I see it fester in its pointed edge
And to its death I solemnly pledge
"Kill my love, kill my heart"
then I smash the spade, till its love falls apart
Now all that's there, is sable ink
And into its fluid my hand does sink
I write with it all love's gain
And all we seek all in vain.
Love is not defined by anything
But a broken heart that cannot sing
In morbid ink, my soul I dress
And to love, my love I confess
My love of love, a dark spade
That kills my heart, the spade it made
I fade....
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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I may die
I am not the one who will ditto,
Seek someone else to serve your purpose,
I call a spade spade,
If you compell me to do so,
I may die,
For the burden is unbearable
To my heart.
poem by Mohammad Akmal Nazir
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Sonnet: On Deforestation
What heart of stone dare lift an axe to strike,
And fell a tree thats young, green, and mighty?
And when the act is over, what dislike,
Shouldst fill the heart of Nature, Almighty?
Who sows the seeds and grows the forest-trees?
Who brings the Rain and makes the flowers fruit?
Who makes the leaves, nuts fall in Autumn's breeze?
Forests made over years, in days men loot!
Deforestation is an act unkind;
That men keep doing foolishly for long;
Such men are insane, doing things off mind;
Afforestation sans, 'tis very wrong.
How can men rid the earth of greenery?
No man can live in such a scenery.
poem by John Celes
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Caves Of Altamira
I recall when I was small
How I spent my days alone
The busy world was not for me
So I went and found my own
I would climb the garden wall
With a candle in my hand
Id hide inside a hall of rock and sand
On the stone an ancient hand
In a faded yellow-green
Made alive a worldly wonder
Often told but never seen
Now and ever bound to labor
On the sea and in the sky
Every man and beast appeared
A friend as real as i
Chorus:
Before the fall when they wrote it on the wall
When there wasnt even any hollywood
They heard the call
And they wrote it on the wall
For you and me we understood
Can it be this sad design
Could be the very same
A wooly man without a face
And a beast without a name
Nothin here but history
Can you see what has been done
Memory rush over me
Now I step into the sun
Chorus
song performed by by Steely Dan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Caves Of Altamira
I recall when I was small
How I spent my days alone
The busy world was not for me
So I went and found my own
I would climb the garden wall
With a candle in my hand
Id hide inside a hall of rock and sand
On the stone an ancient hand
In a faded yellow-green
Made alive a worldly wonder
Often told but never seen
Now and ever bound to labor
On the sea and in the sky
Every man and beast appeared
A friend as real as i
Chorus:
Before the fall when they wrote it on the wall
When there wasnt even any hollywood
They heard the call
And they wrote it on the wall
For you and me we understood
Can it be this sad design
Could be the very same
A wooly man without a face
And a beast without a name
Nothin here but history
Can you see what has been done
Memory rush over me
Now I step into the sun
Chorus
song performed by by Steely Dan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Better Way
There’s a better way of digging
Than that, Uncle said, taking the
Spade from your hands and showing
You with a craftsman’s touch how
It should be done. You watched in
Wonder how with ease and skill he’d
Made the trench begin to shape far
More quickly than your frail work
Produced. He handed you back the
Spade and you noticed the calluses
That years of using spades and other
Workman’s tools had made. He took
Hold of your hand and turned it over,
Gazed intently and smiled and shook
His head. Such lily-white hands were
Made for pen not spade or hoe or rake,
He said, finish what’s started, lad, then
Return to your studies and pen instead.
poem by Terry Collett
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Facing The Facts (Wolfblood)
Some saw Shannon as a gormless geek;
Someone to mock; an uncool freak.
But she was a girl with a very sharp mind:
A brighter girl, it would be hard to find.
With the Beast, she became quite obsessed;
She asked friends to help her in her quest.
She had seen a hazy image in a photograph,
But, at her, the others still loved to laugh.
That the Beast existed, Shannon would swear;
But, the lack of evidence, she could not bear.
The Beast's presence, she was able to sense,
But she needed to gather some real evidence.
Being called a liar, she could not stand,
So off she went with her camera in hand.
She would often go out in the dead of night:
Within her heart, she would feel such fright;
Talking about the Beast, she soon became a bore;
Everyone had heard her story many times before.
After strange events, she had strong suspicions;
Following this, she went all out on her mission.
In the end, the shocking truth was finally revealed;
In the process, Shannon nearly got herself killed.
She soon discovered that she wasn't round the bend:
The Beast she'd been hunting was Maddy, her friend.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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Triumphus
A man, made
In the image
Of God,
Became a
Beast, in the
Form of a man.
The beast
Sired a son,
Not a beast.
The beast
Abandoned
His son.
His son
Has a son,
Not a beast.
poem by Francis Santaquilani
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The Storm And The Bush
There are only two things in the world—
The storm in the air and the stretch of green leaves;
The flesh of the forest that quivers and heaves
As the blast on its bosom is hurled.
Above is the whip of the wind
That scourges the cowering forest beneath:
The Storm spits the hiss of the hail from his teeth,
And leaves the world writhing behind!
Like a beast that is bound in a cage
When the keeper's lash lights and the keeper's goad stings,
Each tree his great limbs to his torturer flings
In a groaning and impotent rage.
As the leaves to a fiercer gust lean
The wind throws their undersides upward to sight,
And the foam of the forest-sea flashes to white
Out over full fathoms of green.
poem by Arthur Henry Adams
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My pride is…
I earn within which I eat and wear.
No jealousy, no begging either.
Calling a spade a spade, I’m content..
My pride is to live within my means.
10.07.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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GOD's Elephant - Beating Back The Lion...
GOD Pulled The Lion’s Teeth
GOD Crushed The Lion’s Claws
GOD Took The Lion’s Roar
… and made it very small
GOD Tore Off The Lion’s Tail
GOD Cut The Lion’s Mane
‘Til The Lion’s Voracious Voice
Became Lame and Tamed … and Shamed
Because That Lion Was A Coward
That Crazed Lion Was A Bully
Looking Only For The Weak
To Feast On Them Fully
Not Because It Was Hungry
Not Because It Was In Need
Terror Became Its Creed
Because Its Favorite Taste … Was Greed
It Was The Nature Of That Beast
To Be The Enemy Of My Peace
But GOD Changed Me Into An Elephant
When GOD Saw Me On My Knees
That Lion Chose Me As Victim
It Thought I’d Be Irrelevant
Because It Had No Idea …
I’d Become GOD’ Elephant
… I Am One Of GOD’s Messengers
Hear Me Trumpet HIS Sound
See How Christian Courage Charge
and Shake Lions Underground
See My Ivory Tusks Of Hope
Raised High In Silhouette Moonlight
Gleaming As I Spoke
My Prayers Thru Every Night
See My Ears So Huge To Cool
Fiery Heat That Must Come
Caressing My Full Faith Form
As Heart Beats A Thunder-Drum
GOD Gave Me Wings Of The Wind
GOD Gave Me Echoes Of The Sea
Gave Me A Stand Like A Snowcapped Mountain
And A Trunk Like A Baobab Tree
Yes … GOD Gave Me Two Lightning Spears
GOD Gave Me Two Winged Shields
GOD Gave Me An Earth-Arced Back
To Fearlessly Bear HIS Will …
As GOD Watches Over My Rivers
GOD Guards My Misty Rainbow
GOD Has Shone On All My Dawns
and All Victories Over My Foes …
… and The Lions Came With Stealth
Fierce Lions Came Every Hour
They Thought This Prey Would Cower
While This Pachyderm, They’d Devour
Lions Came With Uncanny Power
They Came With Their Pride Of Lions
But Snarls & Snaps Were No Match
For The Song-Sung To Heavenly Zion
and GOD Cracked The Lion’s Jaw
GOD Strangled The Lion’s Throat
GOD Took The Meat Out Of Its Mouth
and Tore The Tongue Out Of Its Gloat
GOD Sapped The Lion’s Strength
GOD Broke The Lion’s Back
and Thru A Million Stars … I Will Tell
How GOD … Stopped The Lions’ Attack
I Am GOD’s Elephant
The One They Came To Ingest
and Tho’ They Jumped & Scratched & Bit
I Shook Lions Off Like Insects
Yes, I Shook Lions Off My Back
I Turned Their Roars Around
I Hurled It Back In Their Faces
and Stomped Them Below – Down
… Those Lions Say There Is No God
Yet, They Worship Their Belly and Dollars
They’ll Wish They Hunted For The Truth
When They Starve In Their Lair Of Liars
Those Lions Claim There Is No God
As They Bow Down and Feed On Other Things
They Are On The Prowl As Thieves
Trying To Steal Crowns From Kings
and GOD Himself Will Come Free Us
From The World’s Ring-Master’s Circus
and Lead Us To A Land So Lush
Where Footpads Can Again Grow Plush
… I March Thru Jungles Of Jericho
My Huge Head Is Shaking To and ‘Fro
Listen To My Blessed Bellow
Which Made Lions Sound Like Mosquitoes
Because I Am GOD’s Elephant
The Lions Will Learn Not To Push
For You Can’t Move Or Make Bent Or Rush
A Big Believer From The Burning Bush
I Am GOD’s Elephant
Behemoth Brave, Yet Delicate
My Mammoth Memory Will Not Forget
… That I Am GOD’s Elephant
To Holy Water I Journey To Make It
Then Even My Burial Mound Will Be Sacred
No Predator Nor Poacher Can Take It
Our Graveyard, GOD Won’t Forsake It …
I Am GOD’s Elephant
I Hold A Memory For GOD’s Wrath To Come
I Am GOD’s Elephant
My Trumpet Sounds Forth To Warn
I Am GOD’s Elephant
I’m Calling Out My Testament
and A Portrait Of An Elephant
Is On My Crest To Time Indefinite …
From The Ancient Of Days
To Future Events
I Do Admit
I Am GOD’s Elephant
and GOD Pulled The Lion’s Teeth
GOD Crushed The Lion’s Claws
GOD Took The Lion’s Roar
… and made it very small
GOD Tore Off The Lion’s Tail
GOD Cut The Lion’s Mane
‘Til The Lion’s Voracious Voice
Became Lame and Tamed … and Shamed
… Before & For HIS Elephant …
Written & ©: 7/26/10
By: The MoonBee
poem by MoonBee Canady
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Bible in Poetry: Revelation 17
The Woman and the Beast:
1One angel who had the bowl, then
Came to me and said, 'Come on please,
I will show you the punishment
Of the great prostitute, who sits
On many waters of the earth.
2With her the kings of the earth had
Committed adultery and
The inhabitants of the earth
Became intoxicated with
The wine of her adulteries.'
3The angel carried me away
In the Spirit to a desert.
I saw a woman sitting on
A scarlet beast that was covered
With blasphemous names all over,
And had heads seven, and ten horns.
4The woman dressed in purple, scarlet,
Glittered with jewels that she wore,
Of gold and precious stones and pearls.
She held a golden cup in hand,
Filled with things abominable
And filth of her adulteries.
5 Her forehead had this title writ:
‘MYSTERY, BABYLON THE GREAT,
THE MOTHER OF ALL PROSTITUTES,
AND OF EARTH’S ABOMINATIONS.’
6 The woman was drunk with the blood
Of saints, the blood of those who bore
Testimony to Jesus Christ.
When I saw, I was astonished
7The angel asked me: 'Why are you?
I’ll explain the woman’s mystery
And of the beast she rides upon,
Which has seven heads and ten horns.
8The beast, you saw, once was, now isn’t,
Will come up out of the Abyss,
And go to his destruction then.
The earth’s inhabitants whose names
Have not been writ in Book of Life,
From time of creation of world
Will astonished be, seeing beast,
Because he once was and will come.
9'This calls for mind for great wisdom.
The seven heads are seven hills,
On which is seated the woman.
10They also are earth’s seven kings.
Five have fallen, one is, and last,
Hasn’t yet come, but when he does come,
He must remain for just awhile.
11The beast who once was, and now isn’t,
Is eighth, belonging to seven
Kings, going to destruction.
12 'The ten horns you saw are ten kings
Who haven’t received a kingdom yet,
But will for one hour receive pow’r,
As kings along with the great beast.
13They have one purpose and so will
Give their authority to beast.
14They’ll war against the Lamb of God,
But the Lamb of God will o’ercome
Them, because he is the Lord of lords
And King of kings of universe—
With Him will be his called, chosen
And faithful followers of Christ.'
15The angel told me, 'The waters
You saw, where the prostitute sits,
Are peoples, nations, languages.
16The beast with ten horns that you saw
Will hate the prostitute strongly.
They will bring her to ruin and leave
Her naked; and consume her flesh
And burn her with fire later.
17For God has put it into their hearts
To accomplish his purpose by
Giving the beast their pow’r to rule,
Till God’s words fully are fulfilled.
18 The woman is the great city
That rules over the kings of earth.'
Copyright by Dr John Celes 7-20-2007
poem by John Celes
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Turn a great poet
You can turn a great poet
Only you should have an art of keeping others quiet
Keep group of four or five to support
Rest other poets may stand to deport
It happens in all the organizations
It becomes known only after some revelations
But exactly what cause we serve by doing so?
We make indecent entry for other poets to go
There is no yard stick for readers to prefer
Some of the ideas are pre set and is likely to differ
Yet some kind of favor reflects in trend
This is enough reason for good poet to buckle or bend
In new set up, he may find hardly any one to support
Where as few others poets may kill his chance to anchor at port
None may appreciate his effort to strengthen poetry base
Lot many of them may disappear without facing tough chase
I have hardly any reason to resent
But of course spirit of good poetry is absent
You go after established poets with so much to praise
And not a single word for simple poet to boost or raise
Poets are born and not made
As earth gives up nice crops when deeply spade
It is water and natural manure that cultivates fine
Green corps may stand in defiance to define
Do the words create all magic in verses?
Yes if that is felt within one honestly pursues
Poetry may be felt all along even if ignored
As sea waves rush unstoppable toward shore
Bank may feel greatly elated at striking noise
The sound is heard beautifully with sweet voice
As if music is created with each passing wave
Ups and down of journey surely represent the waves
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Grass
The world is all one smother of grass,
Waves of it rolling deep and green,
Clothing the paddocks’ gentle slope,
Laughing the brown tree-trunks between.
And some are praising the brilliant flowers,
The beauty of foliage as they pass,
But I am drinking its glory in
And thanking the Lord for grass, for grass!
The air is a-murmur with rippling sound
From jubilant creeks long fed with rain,
Singing of drought and travail past
And a bounteous earth drown young again-
An earth that is telling its thankfulness
With passionate rapture too deep for words
In acres and acres of waving grass,
Haven of promise to starving herds.
There’s a tangle of bloom in its moist green shade,
Mottled yam-flowers and gentians blue,
Small white stars that are honey sweet,
And nodding bluebells all drenched with dew.
And oh! The breath of its incense rare
As the summer breezes over it pass,
My heart is thrilling with voiceless prayer
And thanking the Giver of things for grass.
poem by Alice Guerin Crist
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Trees in the Garden
Ah in the thunder air
how still the trees are!
And the lime-tree, lovely and tall, every leaf silent
hardly looses even a last breath of perfume.
And the ghostly, creamy coloured little tree of leaves
white, ivory white among the rambling greens
how evanescent, variegated elder, she hesitates on the green grass
as if, in another moment, she would disappear
with all her grace of foam!
And the larch that is only a column, it goes up too tall to see:
and the balsam-pines that are blue with the grey-blue blueness of
things from the sea,
and the young copper beech, its leaves red-rosy at the ends
how still they are together, they stand so still
in the thunder air, all strangers to one another
as the green grass glows upwards, strangers in the silent garden.
poem by David Herbert Lawrence
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Our Metal Beast
Down the road we talk and laugh,
In the metal beast that gives us a ride,
Who knows if it is willing,
And who would really care.
Who ever thought we could ruin,
the life of that which gives it back,
the metal beast are everywhere,
Large ones that seem to carry,
Fifty or more on their tracks.
Or the small ones no more than five or six,
they can carry,
These metal beast,
we never question,
these metal beast that spew out death,
in a smokey and floating form.
Our metal beast,
that we learn to love,
Our metal beast are everywhere,
polished and primed,
or rusty and old,
Our metal beast that we hold onto,
that we love,
Or take for granted.
Our metal beast,
spew out death to our home.
poem by Rebecca Adams
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Blue Skinned Beast
I can fly you to your loved ones but I can promise no return
To a shell-shocked God forsaken where their craters still they burn
Have a drink on me
Have a drink on me
Still the worst is over that I hope you understand
The youre one more hurdle over our protector of the land
Have a drink on me
I put it down to the company
Three cheers to the blue skinned beast hip hip !
To the blue skinned beast hip hip !
Three cheers to the blue skinned beast hip hip hip hip !
To the blue skinned beast hip hip !
Here you have this medal you can even melt it down
Or frame it in the living room every time you turn around
Have a drink on me
Have a drink on me
I heard you shout for yesterday, but I was sleeping on the job
And I dreamt of fighters miles away whose lives I had to rob
Have a drink on me
I put it down to the company
Three cheers to the blue skinned beast hip hip !
To the blue skinned beast hip hip !
Three cheers to the blue skinned beast hip hip hip hip !
To the blue skinned beast hip hip !
Here you have this medal you can even melt it down
Or frame it in the living room every time you turn around
I can fly your loved ones to you
With guarantee of no return
And if john waynes dummys bounce off
Dont look shocked when it comes your turn
Have a drink on me
I put it down to company
Three cheers to the blue skinned beast hip hip !
To the blue skinned beast hip hip !
Three cheers to the blue skinned beast hip hip hip hip !
To the blue skinned beast hip hip !
Hip hip !
Hip hip !
Hip hip hip hip !
Hip hip !
Three cheers to the blue skinned beast hip hip !
To the blue skinned beast hip hip !
Hip hip hip hip !
Hip hip !
Three cheers to the blue skinned beast hip hip !
To the blue skinned beast hip hip !
Three cheers to the blue skinned beast hip hip hip hip !
To the blue skinned beast hip hip !
song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Beast Within
In all of us, a beast lays waiting,
in the dark part of our soul.
It waits in the shadows
to blacken out heart,
wanting us to do
its dark bidding here.
Some are over powered
by the beast within,
their dark deed are everywhere.
Others control its craving,
quelling its black thoughts,
leaving it locked in the dark, in which it dwells.
We have heard of the battles,
good vs. evil,
light vs. dark.
Therefore, we must be strong,
and never let it out,
that beast that lies within.
19 June 2007
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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