Sonnet: Clouds of Changes!
Great clouds of changes loom upon the earth;
Like hungry lions, pow’rful nations prowl,
In search of newer prey of recent birth,
To devour by tactics always foul!
But, lions are not always courageous!
They threaten new-born ewes and kids and foals;
They dare not hunt adult beasts treacherous;
At times, they stoop to eat wild-dogs in holes!
Should not such lions question their valor?
Should they not choose equals to challenge then?
Should they keep roaring at beasts in dolor?
A lion should not live out of its den!
Yet, Wild dogs too can chase lions away!
Though powerful, a fool must lose some day.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 1-15-2007
poem by John Celes
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Related quotes
Lions
Lions like to eat
and to them meat is meat,
and the difference
between wild beast and man
does not matter at all.
When the Romans fed
Christians to the hungry beasts,
they ate them without
any remorse
and the difference
between Christian and sinner
did not matter at all.
When tourists leave their vehicle
in a animal park,
lions will kill and eat them
without any consideration
to chairman, president or millionaire;
like any natural prey.
Once a angel made lions
play like kittens with Daniel,
but before his enemies
touched the bottom
of the den,
they were broken into pieces.
[Reference=>“22 My God hath sent his angel, and hath shut the lions' mouths, that they have not hurt me: forasmuch as before him innocence was found in me; and also before thee, O king, have I done no hurt.
24 And the king commanded, and they brought those men which had accused Daniel, and they cast them into the den of lions, them, their children, and their wives; and the lions had the mastery of them, and brake all their bones in pieces or ever they came at the bottom of the den.” Daniel 6.22+24
poem by Gert Strydom
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Sonnet: Is Man Worse Than Beasts
With poise and elegance, the cat sits long,
Eyeing the hole from which the rat comes out;
Though hours have passed and clock has said, ‘ding-dong, ’
The cat stays on unstirred, with tired snout.
With what deft moves, the lion hunts its prey,
By crouching long, amidst the tall Grasses!
What patience marks the mighty lions! Say,
’Twill chase the deer like wind across passes.
But man has learned this art better than beasts;
Without mercy, he can destroy his foes;
And o’er this victory, he sings and feasts;
Revenge brings man more foes and earthly-woes.
But beasts must hunt their food each day to live;
And man need not to beastly moods vent give.
poem by John Celes
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Lions of the darkness
They...dark men
Working in the great power of night
They never walk by the light
Men who make darkness their joy
Woe to them
By the night they feel the happiest
As a versifier I most say the truth
The lions of the night
When the night comes, they come out of their den
With sounding teeth
And mighty claws
Rearranging the house of man
Lions of the night
Putting panic to the heart of man
Collecting taxes which they never deserve
On a faithful day the lions will be prey
By the almighty moulder
Or by men in khaki
Lions of the night...
Sonnet: INFANTICIDE
The mother zebra could not save young one!
The hungry lioness had killed it fast;
It turns to watch the gruesome act half-done,
And walks away with sad a heart, at last.
The elephant herd forms a ring around
Their cubs, protecting them from hunting beasts;
They chase the lions with their trumpet sound
And tusks, before their cubs become their feasts!
Yes, mothers must protect their little ones
From harm, from hungry animals that hunt;
They do this duty all their life, not once-
An act of bravery and not a stunt!
Yet, human mothers kill their babes in womb,
Due to ‘unwanted child’ and baby-boom?
Copyright by Dr John Celes 2-17-2008
poem by John Celes
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Were I A Lion King
Were I a lion king of the pride how proud a lion I'd be
To think that other lions for miles around are very scared of me
In the stillness of the African night I would roar aggressively
I would not be kind to other lions or in ways act neighbourly
Of the prey the lionesses did kill I would be first to eat
The other members of the pride would have to wait for their share of the meat
The male lion who has compassion will never rule a pride
Of any honour in his life by his attitude self denied
If I were a lion king of the pride the lionesses for me would kill the prey
But if's an obstacle that always does get in the way
Human beings need some aggression in life for to succeed
The timid like the timid lion are not destined to lead
Were I a lion king in the African night I'd give a mighty roar
That would be heard by other lions for two miles distant or more.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Lions
The lions are tired.
Tired of runing,
tired of screaming and fighting,
tired of living,
my life,
their life,
and everybody else's.
The lions are bloody
but tired.
The lions wish,
they wish to kill,
they wish to eat,
they wish to sleep,
but
these lions are tired,
so tired.
poem by Serban Raducu Bogdan
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I'm Sure It's This Way
The lion cub woke up so slow,
For tired out was he
And didn't know the way to go,
No lions could he see!
'Oh, dear, they've left me all alone!
Perhaps this is a test!
I'll work it out all on my own...
I wonder which way's best? '
And so he paused, as lions do,
Content to search for signs,
Because right then he had no clue
To help the heart that pines...
He first looked left and then looked right,
Then circled round and round,
For something that would end his plight,
No matter, sight or sound...
'I'm sure it's this way! ' he presumed,
As if he were correct
And so his searching he resumed,
So this way could be checked...
The other lions laughed out loud
As he chose to explore...
He'd passed the test and they were proud
As he joined them once more!
poem by Denis Martindale
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Caesar
Pop/schermerhorn
People of america
I bring you a great army
To preserve peace
In our empire
Throw them to the lions
Darling, let us go to the banouet hall...
There will be a great feast tonight!
Who are these christians?
What is this strange religion?
I ve heard it said they turn the other cheek
Ha ha ha ha
Throw them to the lions
Throw them to the lions
Throw them to the lions
Thumbs down
10 pieces of gold for every man
Hail caesar hail caesar
Grapes from sicily
Silks from asia minor
All the tea in china
Throw them to the lions
Throw them to the lions
Throw them to the lions
Who are these christians?
Turn the other cheek...
Ha ha ha ha ha
Two thumbs down
The christians are restless
Why not let them worship their god?
No one believes in the old gods
How tiresome...attending the rituals
Paying lip service to the portents
Burning incense at their shrine
No one believes in the old gods
Throw them to the lions
Throw them to the lions
Throw them to the lions
Hahahahahaha
The roman empire the glory of rome
Hail all hail
Caesar...caesar...beware beware the ides of march
Who is this man?
Caesar...he is but a soothsayer...he is old
And his brain is addled... pay him no mind!
Throw him to the lions! ha ha ha ha ha ha
Hail caesar! emperor of rome hail caesar!
Caesar...caesar...beware the ides of march
Eh? ! who is this man?
Caesar...he is but an old soothsayer...addled in his brain
Pay him no mind
Throw him to the lions! ha ha ha ha
Throw him to the lions!
No one believes in the old gods...
The empire is tired...caesar will rest now.
We depart for my chambers
Come darling
Yes caesar
Caesar will rest now
Hail rome hail caesar hail
Put him in the fiery pit
Ha ha ha ha!
song performed by by Iggy Pop
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Voortrekker (in answer to Tony Harrison)
A track from a kraal
goes direct into the veldt
decked in blood
from the remains of cattle.
The sick Boer walks alone,
now abandoned of dog,
children, farm labourers
with a.303 rifle wavering in his hands.
Somewhere in dense green bushes
in front of him to the right
lions roar and at speed
one, two and three more
appear with tails flashing like whips.
The rifle is still wavering in his hands
but an expert eye finds the sight
with the trigger at his finger tip,
the exploding sound of bullet after bullet
are followed by a whack and some great roars
and the lions are no more
and like his fathers protected in God’s hand,
although outnumbered many times
by natives and wild beasts
stand a lonely believing man.
[Reference: Voortrekker by Tony Harrison.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Together
Two lions lounged without a care...
For neither had a qualm...
This was a moment they could share
And both enjoyed the calm...
This was a time when they could bond
Without the need to fight,
Without the need to hunt beyond
For creatures out of sight...
Two lions lounged, as time ticked by...
With other lions near,
Beneath the sky where eagles fly
And vultures may appear.
And higher still, the sun shone down
Upon the good and bad,
To make some smile, to make some frown,
Yet mostly light to add.
And higher still, God watched it all
Unfolding patiently...
A billion prayers He could recall
From folks like you and me...
Yet He observes the lions, too,
And grants each one a name...
He knows what life would make them do
As life goes on the same.
We only see through human eyes,
Yet God knows everything...
One of these lions will be wise...
He'll grow to be a king...
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Together'.
The Stephen Gayford poems can be viewed here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
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The Lions Share
[ music: natalie merchant & dennis drew/words: natalie merchant ]
Can I be unhappy?
Look at what I see: a beast in furs and crowned in luxury.
Hes a wealthy man in the poorest land, a self-appointed king,
And theres no complaining while hes reigning.
The lambs are bare of fleece and cold; the lion has stolen that, Im told.
There must be some creature mighty as you are.
The lambs go hungry (not fair), the biggest portion is the lions share.
There must be some creature mighty as you are.
Can I be unhappy?
Listen and agree, no words can shame him or tame him.
The lambs are bare of fleece and cold; the lion has stolen that, Im told.
There must be some creature mighty as you are.
The lambs go hungry (not fair), the biggest portion is the lions share.
There must be some creature mighty as you are, as you are.
Razor claws in velvet paws, you dunce in your guarded home,
til a stronger beast will call on you and pounce upon your throne.
Do we pay? dearly, for the lion takes so greedily
And he knows that what hes taken, it is ours.
Thats how the wealths divided among the lambs and king of the beasts, it is so one-sided.
Until the lamb is king of the beasts we live so one-sided.
song performed by by 10000 Maniacs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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African Evening
'Isn't this nice? ' the lioness said,
'A summer breeze and day near dead
And crystal clear enough to search,
To hunt again, if I've the urge.
Of course, I might just have a snooze...
For now, I'm fine, nothing to lose.
No cubs to crush this quiet time...
The day's gone well, in fact, sublime.
So belly down and front paws stretched,
To watch the sky this day has sketched...
To gaze serenely without cares
And look at clouds pass by in pairs.
Life's not so bad, still lots to learn.
I'll find a mate, when it's my turn.
There's no rush yet - this year, next year.
I'm quite content just lying here...
I've got no stomach pains today -
No cause to kill or hunt new prey.
No need to see death haunt the eyes
As suddenly my next meal dies...
For now, it's peaceful as can be -
There's no sign here of misery...
There's just the sun... and clouds above...
And, somehow, these things seem enough.
No thirst have I, as evening calls,
No lions here, no evening brawls,
No lions roaring back and forth,
Just nothing south, east, west and north.
This land is mine and mine alone -
A greater peace I've never known.
I'm getting sleepy in this sun,
Yet glad to know my work is done.
So sleep it is... just lying down...
To rest again, take off the crown,
To put aside one's majesty...
To savour life, as one born free...'
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'African Evening'.
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bible Stories: Job (Chapter IV)
Spoke Eliphaz, the Termanite:
Will you mind, if we speak to you?
Can anyone not talk to you?
You had advised many people;
You had strengthened their feeble hands;
Your words had helped those who falter.
When in problems, you’re impatient;
When troubles seek you, you’re annoyed;
Is not your piety, your faith?
Is not your steadfastness, your hope?
Do innocents truly perish?
Are upright, really destroyed?
The trouble-sower reaps the same;
The breath of God makes them perish;
The wrath of God consumes them all!
Although the mighty lion roars,
Teeth of young lions get broken!
For want of prey, old lions die;
The cubs get scattered from mother.
I heard a word whispered in ear:
I saw visions while men had slept;
Fear engulfed me, deep in my bones;
A spirit passed as hairs stood up.
Before my eyes, a figure asked,
“Can man be more righteous than God? ”
“Can mortals be like God, blameless? ”
When God can’t trust his own servants,
And can find fault with angels too,
How easily can He, with men
Of clay, living in clay-houses,
Which get crushed worse than any moth!
Morning or evening, men perish;
Pegs of their tents are plucked with ease;
They die without gaining wisdom!
Man is a naught versus God great!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 4-27-2007
poem by John Celes
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Daniel was a man,
Daniel was a man of Prayer, he prayed 3 timesa day,
And he trusted in the Lord, and as a servant of God he did obey;
One time there were others jealous, and didn't like him,
These were evil men, who did wrong and lived in sin.
Daniel was a Man of Faith, on God he could rely,
When told not to Pray, His God he couldnt deny;
And then the king was forced, by some evil men,
To send for Daniel, and throw him in the Lions den.
Daniel was a man of Trust, when in the Lions den,
He trusted all would be okay, so then;
He was closed inside there the lions mouths were shut,
And those evil men the lions took and their teeth did cut.
Daniel was a man whose life we need to follow,
As an example of Trust, otherwise ours would be hollow;
We should also learn to keep praying 3 times a day,
And stick to doing what is right, and to God obey.
poem by Margaret Haig
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L X I X
And in Roman times, as in modern times,
hungry men, pleasured in fawn...
'Twas a gladiators cup to imbibe from,
after running blades 'cross th' necks, of they...
whose god or science were of different air.
And, women turned warm, and ogled,
at th' thought of the warrior's prowess;
losing purity, at th' notion of bloodthirst.
And sometimes at night, ther'd be heard,
an echo, of lions, on the wind....roaring,
by th' black of an empty arena,
as th' warrior becomes conqueror again;
while woman returns th' favour.......in kind.
And come daybreak...the lions will sleep.
poem by Frank James Ryan Jr.
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Sunt Leones
The lions who ate the Christians on the sands of the arena
By indulging native appetites played was now been seen a
Not entirely negligible part
In consolidating at the very start
The position of the Early Christian Church.
Initiatory rights are always bloody
In the lions, it appears
From contemporary art, made a study
Of dyeing Coliseum sands a ruddy
Liturgically sacrificial hue
And if the Christians felt a little blue-
Will people being eaten often do.
Theirs was the death, and there's was a crown undying,
A state of things which must be satisfying.
My point which up to this has been obscured
Is that it was the lions who procured
By chewing up blood gristle flesh and bone
The martyrdoms on which the church has grown.
I only write this poem because I thought it rather looked
As if the part the lions played was being overlooked.
By lions' jaws great benefits and blessings were begotten
And so our debt to Lionhood must never be forgotten.
poem by Stevie Smith
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Lion
The lion is called the king
Of beasts. Nowadays there are
Almost as many lions
In cages as out of them.
If offered a crown, refuse.
poem by Kenneth Rexroth from A Bestiary (1956)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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The Destroyed Pride Of The Detroit Lions
The Detroit Lions' legacy is destroyed,
With them having the first season ever with no wins,
It seems like the players are gigantic babies,
And after many dismal seasons,
The Lions look like history,
With almost no fans at all,
People root against him,
Their starting college star quarterback plays like a kid,
It seems like they have lost to NFL history,
It seems like they are forever invisible,
And yet, I still root against them,
Because the Lions are a team that will be forever laughed at
Couch The Comfort
Couch the comfort and bite the pain
Everybody play insane
There’s chaos at the zoo
Wild wild tigers come for you
And we can whip our way to safety once again
Until the children are all safe
until the children are all safe
until the children
are all safe
Bloods been drawn
down by the bodega store
There’s zebras and lions
and the lions eat the zebras
Over 12 dollars and mother hollars
Juan is gone
My eldest sons been eaten
yes my eldest sons been eaten
Lions run from the blue guns
Rob the poor to build the funds
And they’re running free
Just a little bit more
Too many antelope lose the war
So we couch the comfort and bite the pain
Everybody play insane
There’s chaos at the zoo
Wild wild tigers come for you
And we can whip our way to safety
once again
Until the children all learn
until the children all learn
until the children all learn
To be insane too
poem by Judd David
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Morning Glory
Before the sunshine starts to boil,
The creatures greet the day.
Though sunshine makes night eyes recoil,
Their sleep must melt away...
A new day dawns, a billion yawns
And weary legs arise...
Each antelope then swings his horns,
Each crocodile then cries...
The insect armies rally round,
For new food must be sought
And many stir beneath the ground
Where battles must be fought...
The lions rise up from their sleep
With focused eyes once more,
A constant vigil now to keep,
As if they're keeping score.
Gaze now upon each noble face
That lions wear with pride,
The grace we see can quite amaze,
Despite our fears inside!
The big cats mesmerise us all,
With utmost majesty!
When they stand up, they're six feet tall
And that's too tall for me!
Like us, the lions live on Earth
Beneath the sun and moon,
Each generation has its birth,
Replaced by others soon...
But while we're here, our turn to live,
We seek the common good.
Our stewardship helps us to give
And do the things we should.
The lions share their portion, too...
Each lion has his story
And to conclude, I say to you,
Let's share the morning glory...
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Morning Glory'.
poem by Denis Martindale
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