Sonnet: Sin is Sin Always
Nothing's a sin-with time all men may think,
And brush aside the guilt when they may err;
Yet, everything in life, you cannot drink;
All fragrant things are not frankincense, Myrrh.
May be, the world has changed by leaps and bounds;
The stress of recent years is great, truly;
To commit mortal sins, man has no grounds;
The conscience tells things so correctly.
No human heart can stone become with years;
No sin can change its definition with time;
Noise can't become music to deafened ears;
A Rhyme perfect will always be a Rhyme.
Can Heaven take all souls, both pure, impure?
A fall in standards, Earth too can't endure.
poem by John Celes
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Related quotes
Sonnet- Sin Is Sin Always
Nothing's a sin-with time all men may think,
And brush aside the guilt when they may err;
Yet, everything in life, you cannot drink;
All fragrant things is not frankincense, Myrrh.
May be, the world has changed by leaps and bounds;
The stress of recent years is great, truly;
To commit mortal sins, man has no grounds;
The conscience tells things so correctly.
No human heart can stone become with years;
No sin can change its definition with time;
Noise can't become music to deafened ears;
A Rhyme perfect will always be a Rhyme.
Can Heaven take all souls, both pure, impure?
A fall in standards, Earth too can't endure.
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Earth Hour
by leaps and bounds
the world has progressed
since the industrial revolution
men's life expectancy
has increased so many years
by leaps and bounds too
we seem to be heading
towards a crash between
our own survival and
that of mother earth
earth hour - giving ourselves
and earth - a break
even in this darkness,
earth cools down to lift us
up in a warm efferverscent cheer
we cant help but shed tears
for what we had done to mother earth
and vow to light the coming years
in the darkness of our rooms
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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The Old Rhyming Poet
In his early eighties his best days long gone
But the gray haired old poet he keeps penning on
Though many see him as of another time
Sixty years as a poet and still writing in rhyme.
Though not seen as a mentor to the young poets of the town
He once was the Regional Poet Laureate and he knew of renown
When rhyme it was popular a long time ago
And his hair was as dark as the wing of a crow.
Not hard to tell he's known a far better day
The old rhyming poet that the years have left gray
It has been more than five decades since he was in his prime
Eventually we all become victims of time.
In time as in life few things do seem to last
And verses that rhyme are now seen as of the past
But to him to stop writing would be living a lie
And he will be a poet till the day that he die.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The war might stop this winter, but that is improbable. It may go on for fifty years or more. That also is improbable. The elements are too conflicting and confused to form any accurate judgment of its length. There may be a series of wars, one after another, going on indefinitely. Possibly the world will come to its senses sooner than I expect. But, as I have often said, the environment of human life has changed more rapidly and more extensively in recent years than it has ever changed before. When environment changes, there must be a corresponding change in life. That change must be so great that it is not likely to be completed in a decade or in a generation.
quote by Charles Lindbergh
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Rhyme
Poets rhyme from time to time
They don’t find rhyme a crime
It’s no sin, their using rhyme
Inspired rhyme is so sublime
Can often form a perfect line
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
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Clueless
I really don't have clue
All things I do and bad things
I do and keep it a secret can come out at any moment
The guilt built on inside hurt
Clueless
About life and things
Whatever throw and come my way
I let it make me fall down and break into pieces
I get blame for not listening and
Doing the right thing
Clueless
About what I really want to happen and see come true
I need to let my heart decision
I need keep my ears open and
Watch out for people and things
Time and years flying by so fast
I can't be
Cluelesss
Anymore and not let anyone/anything bring me down
Clueless
poem by Christina Phan
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Conscience –
The ‘Inner Voice’ in-built by God,
In every human being born,
That tells what’s wrong and what is right,
And helps in moral decisions!
The laws of lands may change a lot;
The guidelines may be different;
The ethics too metamorphose;
But Conscience keeps the truth standard!
The modern man has ‘conscience rot’!
His faith in science has grown mammoth;
He thinks all things are human made –
Believing in mere human strength!
The world cannot ignore conscience;
No man can do much, without God;
If laws are made for human rights,
They shan’t be anti-God /Nature!
Man better heed to conscience first;
All things he does will turn out fine;
Ethical dilemmas vanish,
And soul of man will stay most pure!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 1-21-2010
poem by John Celes
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A Tribute to a Man of God- Bro. Dr. DGS Dhinakaran
A man who went to commit suicide,
Was picked by God to save sinners from hell,
Miraculously until ripe-old age;
God took him to His bosom after this.
The man of God had read the Bible well;
He prayed to God with fervor all his life,
Until the Holy Spirit entered him,
And changed his life of poverty and strife.
The man of God became Evangelist;
He quoted Scriptures to all suffering souls,
Explaining God’s message to all who thirst
For truth and Light and Way of Jesus Christ.
He talked to God and gained wisdom to guide
The many souls, who thronged to him for help;
God saw his love for fellowmen on earth,
And exalted his spiritual life.
The man of God had preached the Word of God
To human beings, right across the globe,
Performing miracles and healing sick,
Consoling all who begged of him to pray.
With time, he uttered prophecies as well;
He sowed the seeds of love and brotherhood;
He sang a lot of hymns right from his heart,
In praise of God and thanked Him for his lot.
Oh, what a holy life, it turned to be!
The Holy Spirit blessed his family;
He lamented to God for others’ sake;
Well-pleased, God took him to Elysium’s Lake!
The world had lost a fragrant flower great;
The void cannot be filled except by God;
The pot had served His Potter’s every wish;
He turned ‘Fisher of men and not of fish! ’
He’s gone to see his loving Angeline-
His only daughter who preceded him;
From heaven, he’ll direct his kith and kin,
In saving mankind from all grievous sin.
The noble soul is now in God’s Abode;
He’ll plead to God to shake the world of men;
The modern world has people with big sins;
He’ll tell the Maker what the righteous need.
The ways of God are glorious and strange;
He enters hearts of souls who welcome change;
The works of God are mighty in its range;
The man of God will bring His divine change.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 2-23-2008
poem by John Celes
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Drink!
Ill take back my pinata its wasted on you
Just spinning that pool cue all over the room
And give back the blindfold thats under your shoe
Lets drink, drink this town is so great
Drink, drink cuz its never too late
To drink, drink to no big surprise
But what words rhyme with buried alive
What words rhyme with buried alive
You could be a float for the 4th of july
Based on your theme of wallflowers grown wild
Look thru your peephole, youve won every prize
Lets drink, drink this town is so great
Drink, drink cuz its never too late
To drink, drink to no big surprise
But what words rhyme with buried alive
What words rhyme with buried alive
In your monkey suit on a cigarette break
The lunchtime crowd, they wont even blink
But youd be sad if they did
But youll be sad...
Lets drink, drink this town is so great
Drink, drink cuz its never too late
To drink, drink to no big surprise
But what words rhyme with buried alive
What words rhyme with buried alive
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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0004 The world has lost the ear for rhyme
The world has lost the ear for rhyme.
It still makes children squirm with pleasure;
and from some witty pens and minds, its fireworks fizz;
so, after all these centuries of rhyme
and all the games of meter, dancing words,
should we now mourn its passing?
Have we lost the music of another world?
Instead, the easy unpretentious discourse,
sober, light, familiar, honest -
the world of daily, homely, shared sharp life,
that's now preferred. Not prose;
much more than 'chopped-up prose' as those may say
who think that poetry should be more visibly hard-earned;
- as if a human life set down in honesty
were not a poem in itself, unwrit;
'prose with enhanced consciousness' it's often now defined;
and consciousness - now that's earned, if you like...
and simile, and imagery, and metaphor - all the repertoire
of glorious poetry - they're all still here
to work their magic; if more played down, now,
unostentatious as T-shirt and jeans;
unostentatious as the beating, bloody heart.
And yet, when years bring tears
and time brings death and dying,
it's time for rhyme, to heal the heart
and charm away the crying.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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The Course of Life, Time, And Events and The Process of Change
Time or fate may separate friends, lovers,
But friendship or love that's true will ever
Thenceforth continue to live forever,
True love conquers the odd with its power.
As time passes by, things change with the time,
Every moment, hour, day, month, and year,
All things have their turn to change with the time,
Life, time, and events change with the years.
Everyone, everything, have a time and day,
A time to change, end, begin a new day,
Change is life, the course of life everyday,
All things change, and we change with them all days.
Only the Eternal one is constant,
All things in the universe, inconstant,
But despite it all, love is important,
The world may change, but true love is constant.
poem by Merlin Archivilla
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Lenten Reflections!
When every time I’ve got to fast,
My hunger pangs then seizes me,
I feel so weak and terrible,
Until I eat or drink something!
When every time I make up mind
To keep away from every sin,
The Tempter comes with new techniques,
And makes me fall in sin again!
When every time I reset life,
And repent for my sins of past,
And try to lead a perfect life,
The Tempter baits me with a snare!
When every time I talk to God,
And ask His forgiveness for sins,
And make a promise not to sin,
The Tempter goads me break accord.
When every time I walk with God,
Reminded of His unique love,
And try to keep the Heaven’s road,
The Tempter makes me go astray!
When every time I suffer fall,
The Tempter laughs and mocks at me;
’Tis God who comes to lift me up,
Consoling and comforting me!
Why then should not I follow Christ,
My Savior, who died for my sins?
He brought the earth so nigh Heaven,
Welcoming sinners who repent.
Lent time is to go nearer God;
Lenten desert gives grace to souls;
Lent makes our hearts and minds purer;
Lent affords chance to gain Heaven.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 3-3-2010
poem by John Celes
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Song With No Name
Cant sleep, trying hard to find a rhyme
Cant work, I am tired all the time
Cant eat, since my appetite has gone
Cant think, when it started to go wrong
Cant move, Ive no energy at all
Cant see, any end to this in sight
Last week, I could do all of those things
But now, I am just the man who sings
Ive searched around for years and years
Ive drank in bars, destroyed careers
Sold on a need to be famous
Ive seen the good in men survive
Only to fail when I arrive
Convincing them I am blameless
I was the man with future sight
I would change fortunes overnight
Knowing for me it was painless
Cant sleep, trying hard to find a rhyme
Cant work, I am tired all the time
Cant eat, since my appetite has gone
Cant think, when it started to go wrong
Cant move, Ive no energy at all
Cant see, any end to this in sight
Last week, I could do all of those things
But now, I am just the man who sings
One day in april 10.15
Awakened screaming by a dream
Something that touched me was burning
A diamond pin fell from my eye
Then something strange began to cry
Your will can stop this world turning
Since then Ive fought more than I should
Against the will that I withstood
Hoping I could be its master
But now the dream is all I see
There is no hope of breaking free
One song away from disaster
Cant sleep, trying hard to find a rhyme
Cant work, I am tired all the time
Cant eat, since my appetite has gone
Cant think, when it started to go wrong
Cant move, Ive no energy at all
Cant see, any end to this in sight
Last week, I could do all of those things
But now, I am just the man who sings
song performed by by Heaven 17
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Numbers
Two more days as haze on Time's horizon
divides my world from total change to come.
Two boys play as Fate Time's separation
prepares, as smiles exchanged shall soon fall dumb.
Eight hundred miles, as crow can be relied on
to fly the distance cutting two from one,
seven hour sandwich slice time to be cried on
as isolating father from each son.
Four years span a double generation,
though no tears run from troubled heart undone.
Fifty years trip towards degeneration
as two hands write wry rhyme upon Time's drum.
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet-How Can You See God?
How can you see God with your human eyes,
When mind keeps seeking worldly pleasures more?
How can you see God when you're worldly-wise,
And selfish, sinful, evil to the core?
How can you see God with your soul impure,
Ignoring Conscience that tells whats right?
How can you see God with heart immature,
And eyes that see but can't discern His Light?
How can you see God in all Nature's forms,
When human eyes can't see the God within?
How can you see God without Life's great storms,
with heart afilled with oft-done mortal sin?
The man with heart and soul holy sees God;
Deceiving ones will get Almighty's Rod.
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Woman Of Rhyme
She is not what you'd call beautiful though still in her prime
And to those who know her she is known as The Woman of Rhyme
In Local Literary circles not even one of note
As she does not fit the bill of the Modern Poet.
But the rhyme from her gushes and it races along
And in five minutes flat she can pen you a song
And though not classified as a poet her verse is not doggerel
And with her gift of rhyme one might say she does well.
Some fifty years ago she would have known fame
And her's would have been a great Literary name
But rhyme it would seem has passed it's use by date
And what's now seen as old fashioned was once seen as great.
Even the best of the Local modern poets seem strangers to renown
But then such is life in a football mad Town
In the pubs the names of famed poets and artists they never recall
Their small talk mostly of sports, footballers and football.
For what she is good at she is not recognized
But having said that I am not really surprised
since rhyme verse has long passed it's glorious time
And none to applaud the young Woman of Rhyme.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Sonnet: Yet, Abide In God
If suff’rings be my fate, why should I blame
The people, world and all things me around?
My time, energy wasted, makes me lame!
In fighting evils- how long am I bound?
My troubles make me all the more steady;
My Godliness improves by leaps and bounds;
Renewed vigor keeps me ever-ready;
Almighty God helps me to break new grounds.
New hope is born out of my struggles great;
My faith in God increases all the more;
’Tis left to God, my Lord to change my fate;
If He still wants, much blessings He can pour.
Miracles more could happen anytime;
God, show me how to make my life sublime.
poem by John Celes
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Something New
things are meant not to last
there is always the right time for them to break
into pieces and no matter how we piece them together
they still shatter
like telling you that they are meant to go, to be broken, to be thrown away
a lap top has a time frame of its own
the virus come in waiting and then all of its essence is gone
you weep for things?
don't. They do not weep for you. You are sad when they break? Don't
They don't feel anything at all for you.
a car for twelve years is not your car anymore
the chassis simply take in rust and some wires get meshed up
with tantrums and like nerves they too go awry and die
malfunction so to say from the language of things and tools
now, we see each other. I am human. I am not a piece, a thing.
I am not a car. I am not a lap top with a time frame
for its breaking
a time for throwing and trading-in
a time simply for replacing
Look at me. I have tears. My skin bleeds when you hurt me.
My heart beats faster when you kiss me.
As we throw away what we do not need now
After all the years of keeping, we reflect.
I have this heart that beats for you. I have time outside the frame
of utility. We grow. We commit. We savor.We are present.
For twelve years now, You will always be someone new.
Let the sun shine. Let the heart beat for a new meaning. Love.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Father’s Day,2010
This Father’s Day, I was so very sad,
For none had greeted me, ‘My dear dad! ’
Despite my sadness, I tried to be glad,
For I wasn’t after all, a father bad!
I wondered what had gone wrong with this world;
Why were my family members being cold?
Was it their love for earthly things and gold?
Was it because I was now pretty old?
My people do not talk to me often;
No one finds time to forget or soften;
Were souls immersed in vice and mortal sin?
Were devils ravaging mankind to win?
I pondered over this problem for long;
Perhaps, the world forgot what’s right or wrong;
May be, in life, all hear a plaintive song;
Then, something struck my inner head like gong!
The modern world was searching for true love;
All want it but will not give it for now;
Man’s selfishness makes him raise his eyebrow;
Christ loves us truly from heaven above!
A day to show one’s love was missed so fast;
Man tries to be wiser from his sad past;
No one has patience to answer when asked;
The holy cross can make things well at last!
But everyone must take a share of blame;
Love lost in homes is matter of great shame;
We have forgotten earthly life’s main aim;
Pure souls can go to God from whence they came!
It’s time we walked on heaven’s road on earth!
We cannot forget God who gives each breath;
God’s love made us in human form at birth;
Can we not share with neighbors divine mirth?
‘Happy Father’s Day! ’
Copyright by Dr John Celes 06-20-2010
poem by John Celes
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But A Mist
Our life on earth is but a mist, no matter how long that list,
Of those things in the past, of achievements we amassed,
Or those things we want to do, before time here is through,
For we are simply a vapor here, with that end drawing near.
Years of three score and ten, a time decreed for most men,
With good health, maybe more, no man can be totally sure,
Or one could have a shorter end, to the life they have friend,
Short or long, our life will be, a small blip in light of Eternity.
All the things that we’ve done, are fading like the setting sun,
Maybe, still a memory in our mind, but, they’ll be left behind,
The distant memories in our heart, many gone, as we depart,
From this earth and the past; a time for all that shall not last.
Of the present, we don’t know, how much we have yet to go,
Or what could change friend, to alter present time we spend,
Pursuing all wants and needs, uncertain where a future leads,
And death is as sure as birth, for all one day leave this earth.
All our lists, present or past, apart from God shall never last,
But all done for Christ shall be, transferred over into Eternity,
When life’s mist is over and done; in eternity with God’s Son,
Where these mists will endure, with Jesus Christ forevermore.
(Copyright ©02/2011)