Sonnet: To Abort is Sheer Ruthlessness
What heart of man can cut a plant with buds?
What cruel mind will fell a tree with fruits;
None slash the branches with blossoms for woods;
No one removes fruit-bearing tree by roots.
Just fools would use grenades to fish in lakes;
You cannot have tree-house and also tree;
No offspring come from factories as makes;
God gave us mind and heart to think afree.
Yet, man resorts to abortions often;
A tiny man is maimed or killed this way;
Will not the heart of mankind bit soften?
One life shouldn’t take another any day!
All lives are same to God, born or unborn;
Allow the baby in womb, to be born.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 3-10-2008
poem by John Celes
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The Seed in the Womb- Baby Alive!
There is a dormant life, unseen,
In every seed!
When sowed in soil that’s wet,
Under the bright rays of the sun,
It sprouts into a seedling,
With overt life!
It grows into a sapling-
A miniature plant,
Which grows into a plant or tree,
Laden with flowers, fruits and seeds,
And happy are both,
God and mankind.
Do farmers destroy seeds?
Do they destroy sprouted seeds?
Do they pull off seedlings?
Do they remove saplings?
And all have life,
From Creator!
There is an innate life, unseen
In each zygote!
On nidation in womb,
Under the loving care of God,
It grows, becoming embryo:
With overt life!
Which grows into a fetus-
Miniature human being!
Bubbling with life;
And grows into a human babe,
That should be born,
To grow into an adult (male/ female) ,
Who can now have, children,
Maintaining human race,
And happy are both,
God and mankind!
Should one destroy zygotes?
Should one destroy embryos? (Abortion)
Should one murder the fetus? (Feticide, Abortion))
Should one kill the babe, unborn? (Infanticide)
And all have life,
From Creator!
Life is life- plant or beast!
Life is life- in seed or ovum / sperm!
Life is life- small or big!
Life is life- in utero or ex!
Life is life- unborn or born!
Life is life- child or adult!
Would anyone sane destroy
A growing plant?
Would anyone sane cut down
A little tree?
Does any woman have the right
To abort her child?
Can any man or woman
Murder own child?
‘God gives the ‘seed’ life in the womb,
None dare take this out, except Him.
God makes the seed grow in the womb;
No one dare turn the womb, a tomb!
Abortion is murder, most foul
Of a baby in the womb! ’
‘THOU SHALT NOT KILL- saith the Lord.’
Copyright by Dr John Celes 1-29-2008
poem by John Celes
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Abortions on the Increase
The world kills babies by the millions;
What cruel hearts could love to kill their own?
The babies killed are wholesome and healthy;
But Nature kills just those who can’t survive.
The right to life is baby’s basic right;
To kill a new-born babe is not correct;
God sees the tears of unborn babies all;
The God of life will punish those who kill.
The guilt of abortion can wreck one’s life;
Some mothers have committed suicide;
What insane minds dare kill their unborn kids?
Though maimed, some fetuses are born alive!
No species kills its own within the womb;
The right to life is prime for all species;
All parents rear their young ones though deformed;
But man alone kills babies though well-formed!
Oh, won’t you stop such treacherous killing?
Breast cancer afflicts mothers who abort;
Abortions lead to more miscarriages;
Stop murder of unborn babies in womb.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 3-4-2008
poem by John Celes
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Arbor Amoris
I have a tree, a graft of Love,
That in my heart has taken root;
Sad are the buds and blooms thereof,
And bitter sorrow is its fruit;
Yet, since it was a tender shoot,
So greatly hath its shadow spread,
That underneath all joy is dead,
And all my pleasant days are flown,
Nor can I slay it, nor instead
Plant any tree, save this alone.
Ah, yet, for long and long enough
My tears were rain about its root,
And though the fruit be harsh thereof,
I scarcely looked for better fruit
Than this, that carefully I put
In garner, for the bitter bread
Whereon my weary life is fed:
Ah, better were the soil unsown
That bears such growths; but Love instead
Will plant no tree, but this alone.
Ah, would that this new spring, whereof
The leaves and flowers flush into shoot,
I might have succour and aid of Love,
To prune these branches at the root,
That long have borne such bitter fruit,
And graft a new bough, comforted
With happy blossoms white and red;
So pleasure should for pain atone,
Nor Love slay this tree, nor instead
Plant any tree, but this alone.
L'ENVOY.
Princess, by whom my hope is fed,
My heart thee prays in lowlihead
To prune the ill boughs overgrown,
Nor slay Love's tree, nor plant instead
Another tree, save this alone.
poem by François Villon
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The Strange Tree
There’s a strange tree which lives near me,
And this strange tree could not agree,
That if this tree could ever see,
A stranger tree it sure would be.
There’s a strange tree which topples me,
For this strange tree was tall, you see,
And then this tree would use its knee,
To break in three, the clouds who flee.
There’s a strange tree which lives near me,
The northern tree, its branches free,
The southern tree, no limb to see,
For this strange tree, was strange, you see?
There’s a strange tree which I can see,
And this strange tree (against my plea)
Was sent to sea, its roots now free,
And now this tree… A ship is he.
End.
Sonnet – Don’t Be
Don't be the fallen leaves, so young and green;
Don't be the buds that never can flower;
Don't be the twigs that always remain lean;
Don't be the flow'rs that dropp with each shower.
Don't be the branches growing very long;
Don't be the tree that never blooms at all;
Don’t be the nests that disallow Bird-song;
Don't be the fruits that hit the Earth by Fall.
Don't be the trunk hollowed by Birds, white-Ants;
Don't be the crown that can't get Sun or Rain;
Don't be the tree that grows not straight but slants;
Don't be the roots that prop the tree in vain.
Don't be the tree that grows on marshy-land;
Just be a tree secure in Maker's Hand.
poem by John Celes
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The Vision the Tree that was Me
I saw a tree so tall and straight
It almost reached to the heavenly gate
I was very close to that tall tree
I became the tree, and the tree became me A fire was burning all around
It burned the roots that were attached to the ground
The fire did not burn the heart of the tree;
As I was the tree and the tree was me. God saved the tree that was me,
God looks upon the heart you see
He saw a sinful heart set free
Sins all buried on the cross of calvary God took the tree that was me,
And planted it by crystal sea
I am the tree, and the tree of life is in me
I, and the tree are one you see, Would you like to be our neighbor?
A tree planted by the waters.
Come to the cross dear sisters and brothers
Jesus will meet you; and we will meet each other.
poem by Pearline Wagner
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A Tree's Fruit
Good fruit or bad fruit, a tree can only bear one,
This parable was taught by God's one and only Son.
First mentioned by John as a warning for the Pharisees to heed,
But being blind to The Truth, most of them would not believe.
Your life is the tree and your deeds are the fruit,
This is a simple analogy that it hard to dispute.
But the Pharisees who knew the Word and lived in the land,
Were rebuked by John the Baptist, as they didn't understand.
Christians need to produce fruit for the Lord and nothing less,
And all the fruit that we produce should be fruits of righteousness.
Our old nature will produce fruit that comes from the past,
Not only is this fruit bad, but it's the kind that won't last.
Not only is bearing good fruit The Lord's heart desire,
But trees that continue to bear bad fruit may be cast in the fire.
Within your own heart is where the good or bad fruit is stored,
And by your fruits men will know you, is made clear by The Lord.
The fruit of righteousness is a tree of life, was once said,
However, a tree that bears bad fruit may be eternally dead.
What fruit you produce is strictly your choice my dear friend,
And by this choice you will either be blessed or condemned.
( 03/2002)
An uncreative medicine
no hope
no friend
no family
no home
no nativity
no nationality
no fame
no name
no future
no points
no market
no identity
no possessions still a tree without roots
no relationship still a tree without roots
no anarchism still a tree without roots
no hiearchy still a tree without roots
no country still a tree without roots
no colours still a tree without roots
no degrees still a tree without roots
no certificates
no imaginations
no dream
no poetry
no fiction
no story
no news
no media
no happiness still a tree without roots
no genre still a tree without roots
no labels still a tree without roots
no names still a tree without roots
THE FOURTH EYE
of
A post-conceptual poet.
When I was only three I planted a tree
When I was three I planted a tree. This was my tree and together we would always be. I gave it love and it to me, and so we were happy, me and my tree.
Then one day they came to see me and my tree. Men with no faces, and they said to me, you must go, and leave this tree.
Buy why I ask. For we've done no harm. Me and my tree, please let us be.
So they left us alone, me and my tree, but only for a while but I could not see.
Then one day they came and took me away. My tree was needed to save the day. Goods it will make it makes perfect sense. So we will take this tree, for wood we need. And so it was done, they took my tree.
And now I look around, my tree I no longer see. Taken from, this tree I planted when I was three.
poem by Brad Milner
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Sonnet: the Drumstick Tree
The drumstick-tree I thought was dead and gone
Is fully clothed by green leaves and flowers;
The bees are active and some fruits are born;
The tree awaits August’s Monsoon showers.
I see the tree growing so fast each morn;
My eyes perceive not the blossoming act;
How well does Nature heal its parts much torn;
Human beings are blind with eyes- the fact.
So, numerous small birds visit the tree,
To eat the flowers that gets dropped nearby;
The tree makes the backyard look so lovely;
Some Millipedes remain and will not die!
The tree looks resurrected, simply great!
God gave a new lease and a newer date.
7-31-2000
poem by John Celes
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Y.. Tree of Life
The tree of life
It has a branch
A money making branch
The bigger the money making branch
The more comfortable our life
But if the money making branch
Is the only branch
On our tree of life
It is such an ugly and unstable tree.
A prayer and devotion branch
Will stabilize the tree of life
Let it be a real big branch
On your tree of life
But if only two branches on a tree
Imagine how ugly it would still be!
So let there be branches
Of Affability and Charity
Of Cheerfulness and Friendliness
Of Gentleness and Honesty
Of Humility and Compassion
Of Spirituality and Wisdom
Of Courage and Hard work
With these branches present,
It will carry soon the lush greenery
Of love and job satisfaction
And soon enough, the tree of life
Will bear the fruits
Of peace of mind and happiness.
A wonderful tree of life I wish you
with many fine branches
and lots of greenery and fruits.
poem by Aufie Zophy
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Tree Of Life
tree of life
tree of love
tree from god up above
this tree was implanted in our hearts at birth
to enjoy life and all its worth.
this tree posses all the love we hold
and controls our very soul.
the tree branches spread wide
to touch all of mankind
filling your bodies from hunger and quenching
the thirst within your soul
a wonderous beauty to behold.
the tree of life
gods sight
gods might
i give you my love
you give me your prayers
eternal life we will share
you in me-and me in you
this is what we have to do.
spreading the fruits of the tree
to all mankind, and of love divine.
poem by Louis Rams
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Sonnet: A Tree When Trimmed…
The tree with withered leaves and branches dry,
When cut close to its trunk and trimmed all neat,
Suddenly turns verdure when rains the sky,
As sprouts begin to cover it from heat!
The growth of tree resumes with rapid speed;
The canopy of leaves show beauteous flow'rs;
Rejuvenated looks the tree indeed!
And fruits aplenty ripen with the show'rs.
The human body too behaves like-wise;
We have to cut our hair and pare our nails;
And fasting helps to throw away all vice;
And loss of limb removes all pride and tails!
Some sacrifice is needed to look great;
And it is better earlier than late!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 26-02-12
poem by John Celes
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Stop Abortions in the New Year,2010! ’
Let nations boasting freedom free
The womb’s children, sentenced to death,
Affording them a passage safe,
Through birth canal or Caesarean!
‘Stop Abortions! ’ in New Year then;
Let earth turn haven and heaven
To tiny ‘Homo sapiens’ in
Wombs human: ‘Give room in the inn! ’
Let atheist nations stop killing
Of God-made lives within the womb,
And end the murders foul, chilling,
Respecting life of all offspring!
Let New Year give the unborn hope –
Of delivery without harm,
Of seeing earth that God has made,
Of praising God for life precious!
Let leaders have a change of heart,
And give dignity of life to all
The creatures made by God of Life,
Who cannot bear to see lives lost!
Stop aborting your own offspring;
Have mercy on the unborn child;
God will shower on you blessing;
O spare the lamb that’s meek and mild!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 12-31-2009
poem by John Celes
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Knowing Of A Tree
It is a good thing indeed
When someone plants a seed
And to watch and help it grow
So someday, it to be a tree.
It is a good thing in truth
When a tree brings forth its fruit
Or to shade someone's head
Or its branch be a robins nest.
It is good when a tree is used
By nature, or by me or you
To protect or shelter lives
For a tree; it never dies.
A tree is someone's home
A tree is someone's good book
A tree is never alone,
For to know a tree, all you do; is look.
It is good to plant a tree
It is good to plant a seed
For someday it will be grown
And a tree, will be known.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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From The Same Tree
From the same tree
there is the good fruit
there is the bad fruit....
From the same tree
the good fruit goes to the market
the bad fruit...to the soil.
From the same tree
is the reason for the lonely farmer
to wake up each morning
to see how the fruits grow well...
and is the reason for the lonely farmer
for not winning the heart of his beloved
who prefer the city life
From the same tree
there is the good fruit
there is the bad fruit.
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
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On Tree
Just a plain old TREE. I Ignored the weather
satisfied with me. I Looked at TREE.
What if anything do I knoe about TREE.
It used to be a thing made out of wood, always tall,
with branches near the ground. Roots fingering the ground.
Life comes up somehow to TREE. Water cascades down to ground, seeping slowly into ROOT. ROOT transmogrifies
the water into inner sanctum stuff known only to the Lord.
People still tell me, Tree just cannot live.
There is no real feeling in TREE.
There is knowledge in TREE or it would be a blade of grass.
People say the life is in the seed or sapiling.
I think the knowledge is in the MAN, the ONE who can.
He Makes all the TREE begin, upon a distant planet,
Creates the thing again, in the courtyard of his KING.
And every meadow of his earth.
The ONE who gave me birthe the second time around.
The ONE who gave me TREE.
And Time to write this down.
poem by Charles Hice
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Reservation For One
This is my tree, my tree, my tree,
My one lone tree, pear tree,
It grows, overflows, it grows it’s fruit,
Alone, only for me.
If I could go to a far-away place,
With just me and my tree, pear tree,
I’d pack my bags, my bags I’d pack,
I’d pick up my bags and flee.
There’s nothing at all, no nothing,
At all, that films me more with glee,
Than those globes, those globes,
Of precious fruit in my tree, pear tree.
I sit beneath, beneath I sit,
Its laden canopy, I polish it’s leafs then,
Set a table of fruits,
Of wine, and bread and brie.
This tree, my tree, could feed the world,
Find me a wife and camaraderie,
It’s powers, it’s powers are vast but I
Can’t pass on its secret sadly.
I’d tell the world, the world I’d tell,
If they weren’t all so hungry, you see.
But my fruit, my fruits, my laboured.
Fruits, I grew only for me, for me,
No none are as hungry as me.
poem by Suzanne Louise Bishop
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The Tree Without Fruits
the way they handle
a tree without fruits is
crazy
it is as though
the leaves do not matter anymore
or the roots
or even the wood itself
or the living rings
within
that tell about
a certain
age
they are thinking about
a fire
they are cruel
and i think they deserve
to be
burned in hell
the value of the tree
is not just its fruits
mind you
trees also present memories
of their own
their roots too have
beautiful stories to tell
their twigs and lentils
too have dreams
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Pohutakawa
I'm a pohutakawa seed
Plant me in the ground and water me
Plenty of sunshine is what I need
And guess what you will see
Out will come a tiny twig
And it will continue to grow so big
Beutiful flowers of phero
Creates a tree of pheroa
Pohutakawa tree, pohutakawa tree
New Zealands christmas tree
You fill my heart, with Aroha
Create a tree of pheroa
poem by Bookworms Rock
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