Cross And Sword
The symbol for the Crusade is the sword!
Now, turn the sword upside down and then,
You will have the 'sign of the cross';
Because, the cross came from,
The symbol of the very swords they carried in killing others! !
Yes, the 'sword' turned upside down becomes the 'cross'.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis

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The Cross
Two fallen twigs when kept across
Can form a cross;
Two blades of grass just put cris-cross
Becomes a cross.
Two fingers placed atop the next
Looks like a cross;
A wire-mesh has umpteen crosses,
Like stars the sky across.
The cross is symbol of Christians;
The cross is pride of all baptized;
The cross instills love of Jesus;
The cross is feared by all devils!
The cross is sign of faith in God;
The cross means sacrifice like Christ;
The cross reminds of victory over death;
Carry your cross and follow Christ.
The cross can save the worst sinner;
The cross is sign of after-life;
The cross means Christ is Son of God!
The cross leads always to heaven.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 10-30-2009
poem by John Celes

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The Rolling Cross
The cross stands for no ones mentor
Except a person who people call a debtor
Jesus died on a cross which stood upright
Peter died twice on a cross which stood upside down
Who will like to be hung on a rolling cross?
Who will like to die thrice rolling?
Such person's destiny is bent
Then there shall be lots of open doors
Open but narrow
And only the few that let theirs roll could pass
Their lives shall be like that of the rolling cross
And so shall can they change their fates
Now, who shall like to be hung on a rolling cross?
Therefore, who shall like to die thrice rolling?
Is there not change of opinions?
No one wants to die without gain
Until there is gain
Then one can withstand the pain
That is why man's mind is like that of the cross
Man is a rolling cross
A storm to his journey
A terrace to his erosion
Like feeding a lion with nuts
When the lion needs meat
And only if the cross stays upright
Or even upside down,
Even if man doesn't want to die rolling
All his life,
He shall be the rolling cross
poem by Ivan Chizurum Ezeigbo

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Ford O' Kabul River
Kabul town's by Kabul river --
Blow the bugle, draw the sword --
There I lef' my mate for ever,
Wet an' drippin' by the ford.
Ford, ford, ford o' Kabul river,
Ford o' Kabul river in the dark!
There's the river up and brimmin', an' there's 'arf a squadron swimmin'
'Cross the ford o' Kabul river in the dark.
Kabul town's a blasted place --
Blow the bugle, draw the sword --
'Strewth I sha'n't forget 'is face
Wet an' drippin' by the ford!
Ford, ford, ford o' Kabul river,
Ford o' Kabul river in the dark!
Keep the crossing-stakes beside you, an' they will surely guide you
'Cross the ford o' Kabul river in the dark.
Kabul town is sun and dust --
Blow the bugle, draw the sword --
I'd ha' sooner drownded fust
'Stead of 'im beside the ford.
Ford, ford, ford o' Kabul river,
Ford o' Kabul river in the dark!
You can 'ear the 'orses threshin', you can 'ear the men a-splashin',
'Cross the ford o' Kabul river in the dark.
Kabul town was ours to take --
Blow the bugle, draw the sword --
I'd ha' left it for 'is sake --
'Im that left me by the ford.
Ford, ford, ford o' Kabul river,
Ford o' Kabul river in the dark!
It's none so bloomin' dry there; ain't you never comin' nigh there,
'Cross the ford o' Kabul river in the dark?
Kabul town'll go to hell --
Blow the bugle, draw the sword --
'Fore I see him 'live an' well --
'Im the best beside the ford.
Ford, ford, ford o' Kabul river,
Ford o' Kabul river in the dark!
Gawd 'elp 'em if they blunder, for their boots'll pull 'em under,
By the ford o' Kabul river in the dark.
Turn your 'orse from Kabul town --
Blow the bugle, draw the sword --
'Im an' 'arf my troop is down,
Down an' drownded by the ford.
Ford, ford, ford o' Kabul river,
Ford o' Kabul river in the dark!
There's the river low an' fallin', but it ain't no use o' callin'
'Cross the ford o' Kabul river in the dark.
poem by Rudyard Kipling

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Poem: Song to the Holy Cross
The cross of love:
The cross I love:
The cross I'd loved all life;
The wooden cross:
The holy cross:
The cross that bore man's strife.
The oaken cross:
The heavy cross:
The cross Jesus carried;
The cross on which
Christ Lord was nailed:
And bore man's sins indeed.
The cross of death:
The blood-stained cross:
The Savior, man, redeemed;
The cross of life's
Victory o'er death:
That souls on earth must heed.
poem by John Celes

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Sign On The Cross
by Bob Dylan
Now, I try, oh for so awf'ly long
And I just try to be.
And now, oh it's a gold mine
But it's so fine.
Yes, but I know in my head
That we're all so misled,
And it's that ol' sign on the cross
That worries me.
Now, when I was just a bawlin' child,
I saw what I wanted to be,
And it's all for the sake
Of that picture I should see.
But I was lost on the moon
As I heard that front door slam,
And that old sign on the cross
Still worries me.
Well, it's that old sign on the cross,
Well, it's that old key to the kingdom,
Well, it's that old sign on the cross
Like you used to be.
But, when I hold my head so high
As I see my ol' friends go by,
And it's still that sign on the cross
That worries me.
Well, it seems to be the sign on the cross. Ev'ry day,
ev'ry night, see the sign on the cross just layin' up
on top of the hill. Yes, we thought it might have
disappeared long ago, but I'm here to tell you, friends,
that I'm afraid it's lyin' there still. Yes, just a
little time is all you need, you might say, but I don't
know 'bout that any more, because the bird is here and
you might want to enter it, but, of course, the door might
be closed. But I just would like to tell you one time,
if I don't see you again, that the thing is, that the sign
on the cross is the thing you might need the most.
Yes, the sign on the cross
Is just a sign on the cross.
Well, there is some on every chisel
And there is some in the championship, too.
Oh, when your, when your days are numbered
And your nights are long,
You might think you're weak
But I mean to say you're strong.
Yes you are, if that sign on the cross,
If it begins to worry you.
Well, that's all right because sing a song
And all your troubles will pass right on through.
song performed by by Bob Dylan

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Blood On Satan's Sword
They gather in congregation.
Their prophet wired into their core.
To avoid, and yet, to conquer.
The blood on Satan's sword.
They are the modern virtue.
The wax shaping onto the floor.
Solidified to overcome.
The blood on Satan's sword.
And as they all embraced their symbol.
It's fear encased within their mental.
All saintly men have cowered and trembled.
At the blood on Satan's sword.
They say we'll all be torn asunder.
If we don't fear the darkest thunder.
Then we'll face the infernal slumber.
And taste the blood on Satan's sword.
Terrified and forlorn.
Still, an answer one man seeks.
The so-called blood on Satan's sword.
Why has it always gone unseen?
He has questioned their fixed path.
They swear he'll see the fiery bath.
The stained glass adorned with wrath.
The holiest evil now is cast.
Onward they wander in plight
Are they praising whats wrong or whats right?
Raising their royal swords, not pride?
Their blades dripping of crimson lost life.
poem by Aaron Lynn

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A Palimpsest For Peace
Cross words cross across crossed wires.
Cross-purposes cross reconciliation off the list
As, crosswise, clockwise and counter-clockwise
Fight for costly cross-border dominance.
Cross voices cross between cross and crescent.
Quiescent sense lessens strength and ends
In senselessness as curses crush courtesy.
Cross-eyed viewpoints squint crossly
As cross-cultural conferences collapse.
Yet, crucially, crossed-fingers aloft,
If antagonists acquiesced in crossing over
To foster lost respect and tolerance,
We could cross off the past of bitterness,
Gross antipathy and once-crossed swords,
As cross-cooperation is consummated
As effortlessly as simply casting away
An anachronistic acrostic cryptic crossword.
poem by C. Richard Miles

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Symbols
’Tis said that the Passion Flower,
With its figures of spear and sword
And hammer and nails, is a symbol
Of the Woe of our Blessed Lord.
So still in the Heart of Beauty
Has been hidden, since Life drew breath,
The sword and the spear of Anguish,
And the hammer and nails of Death.
poem by Victor James Daley

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Look To The Cross
When they saw Christ's death upon the cross
Many counted it a tragic loss
But for the believers they counted it gain
Never to fear eternity ever again
Now as the Easter season quickly draws near
Do I look to the cross with joy or with fear?
Knowing that I have rejected the Lord
Or is He my savior and I'm following His word?
For many people it's jewelry and nothing more
Something pretty that's often wore.
Believers in Christ often wear the cross too
They wear it as a symbol of God's love so true
As believers in Christ we must see past the cross
Knowing Christ's death was not a tragic loss
The cross like the toomb now stands empty and forlorn
They're here to remind us in Christ we're reborn
In this Easter season when we look to the cross
Let us count it a joy and never a loss
03/28/04
Turn The Beat Around (Def Classic Mix)
Turn it up, turn it up, turn it upside down
Turn it up, turn it up, turn it upside down
Turn it up, turn it up, turn it upside down
Turn it up, turn it up, turn it upside down
Turn the beat around
Love to hear the percussion
Turn it upside down
Love to hear the percussion
Love to hear it
Blow horns you sure sound pretty
Your violins keep movin' to the nitty gritty
When you hear the scratch of the guitars scratchin'
Then you'll know that rhythm carries all the action, so
Woah yeah
Turn the beat around
Love to hear the percussion
Turn it upside down
Love to hear the percussion
Love to hear it
Turn the beat around
Love to hear the percussion
Turn it upside down
Love to hear the percussion
Love to hear it
Flute player play your flute 'cause
I know that you want to get your thing off
But you see I've made up my mind about it
It's got to be the rhythm, no doubt about it, woah woah
'Cause when the guitar player start playing
With the syncopated rhythm, with the scratch, scratch, scratch
Makes me wanna move my body yeah, yeah, yeah
And when the drummer starts beating that beat
He nails that beat with the syncopated rhythm
With the rat, tat, tat, tat, tat, tat on the drums, hey
Turn the beat around
Love to hear the percussion
Turn it upside down
Love to hear the percussion
Love to hear it
Love to hear it
Love to hear it
Love to hear it
Turn it up, turn it up, turn it upside down
Turn it up, turn it up, turn it upside down
Turn it up, turn it up, turn it upside down
Turn it up, turn it up, turn it upside down
Turn the beat around
Love to hear the percussion
Turn it upside down
Love to hear the percussion
Love to hear it
song performed by by Gloria Estefan

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sword Of Mine
The Sword that I carry
Though made not of iron or steel,
It is a mighty sword
That I proudly do so wield.
Though it wont break the skin
Or combat the weapons of a foe
But this is a mighty sword of mine
More precious than silver or gold.
This sword that I carry
I proudly display it in my hand,
For I know this sword of mine
Is greater, than any other mans.
It comforts me when I am tired
It will warm me when I am cold
It will lie down beside of me
To protect, and strengthen my soul.
The sword that I hold
Is tattered, and so very worn
It has been a friend along side of me,
In the sunshine and many storms.
It has shown me a path to follow
And has lit the road that I walk,
And those nights when I was alone and scared
Then to me, I could hear it talk.
The sword that I wield
Though may be different, in shape or size,
But it is the same sword
Which for years has cushioned the souls cry.
It has been here since the dawn of time
And will be here when the great walls fall,
And then when all men of war and hate reflect,
My sword, will be the mightiest sword of all.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave

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The Cross
The cross is a symbol,
It reminds us of Jesus and all that he did for us,
All the things he sacrificed for us,
To open the gates of heaven for us,
For us not him,
God Gave his only true son so we could go to heaven to find ever lasting happiness,
To live with the creaters of life,
It is a symbol that shows us even in the darkest of places there is light.
poem by Katelyn Ross

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I'd Cross a Fire
I'd Cross a Fire
I'd Cross a Fire,
To move heaven and earth to keep you by my side!
I'd Cross a Fire,
To climb to a mountain top to shout I love you!
I'd Cross a Fire,
To swim the deepest ocean to see the smile on you!
I'd Cross a Fire,
To walk a thousand miles just to see you!
I'd Cross a Fire,
To keep your love forever in my heart
I'd Cross a Fire,
To keep us bonded together never apart!
poem by Sharon Kubeck

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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

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The Temptation of St. Anthony
-After a design by Félicien Rops-
The Cross, the Cross is tainted! O most Just,
Be merciful, and save me from this snare.
The Tempter lures me as I bend in prayer
Before the sacred symbol of our trust.
Yea, that most Holy of Holies feeds my lust,
The body of thy Christ; for, unaware,
Even as I kneel and pray, lo, She is there,
The temptress, she the wanton; and she hath thrust
The bruisèd body off, and all her own,
Shameless, she stretches on the cross, arms wide,
Limbs pendent, in libidinous mockery.
She draws mine eyes to her--Ah, sin unknown!
She smiles, she triumphs; but the Crucified
Falls off into the darkness with a cry.
poem by Arthur Symons

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Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 1. The Musician's Tale; The Saga of King Olaf XII. -- King Olaf's Christmas
At Drontheim, Olaf the King
Heard the bells of Yule-tide ring,
As he sat in his banquet-hall,
Drinking the nut-brown ale,
With his bearded Berserks hale
And tall.
Three days his Yule-tide feasts
He held with Bishops and Priests,
And his horn filled up to the brim;
But the ale was never too strong,
Nor the Saga-man's tale too long,
For him.
O'er his drinking-horn, the sign
He made of the cross divine,
As he drank, and muttered his prayers;
But the Berserks evermore
Made the sign of the Hammer of Thor
Over theirs.
The gleams of the fire-light dance
Upon helmet and hauberk and lance,
And laugh in the eyes of the King;
And he cries to Halfred the Scald,
Gray-bearded, wrinkled, and bald,
'Sing!'
'Sing me a song divine,
With a sword in every line,
And this shall be thy reward.'
And he loosened the belt at his waist,
And in front of the singer placed
His sword.
'Quern-biter of Hakon the Good,
Wherewith at a stroke he hewed
The millstone through and through,
And Foot-breadth of Thoralf the Strong,
Were neither so broad nor so long,
Nor so true.'
Then the Scald took his harp and sang,
And loud through the music rang
The sound of that shining word;
And the harp-strings a clangor made,
As if they were struck with the blade
Of a sword.
And the Berserks round about
Broke forth into a shout
That made the rafters ring:
They smote with their fists on the board,
And shouted, 'Long live the Sword,
And the King!'
But the King said, 'O my son,
I miss the bright word in one
Of thy measures and thy rhymes.'
And Halfred the Scald replied,
'In another 't was multiplied
Three times.'
Then King Olaf raised the hilt
Of iron, cross-shaped and gilt,
And said, 'Do not refuse;
Count well the gain and the loss,
Thor's hammer or Christ's cross:
Choose!'
And Halfred the Scald said, 'This
In the name of the Lord I kiss,
Who on it was crucified!'
And a shout went round the board,
'In the name of Christ the Lord,
Who died!'
Then over the waste of snows
The noonday sun uprose,
Through the driving mists revealed,
Like the lifting of the Host,
By incense-clouds almost
Concealed.
On the shining wall a vast
And shadowy cross was cast
From the hilt of the lifted sword,
And in foaming cups of ale
The Berserks drank 'Was-hael!
To the Lord!'
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

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Sometimes There's Three
There’s two sides to every story
And sometimes there’s three
You can take a trip around the world
To simply cross the street
I know, ‘cause that's what happened to me
Laugh, laugh
Even the jester has to laugh
When everything turns upside down
It sometimes helps to laugh
There's two paths on every journey
And sometimes there's three
You can meet your fate on the same road
You took to avoid it
I know, 'cause that's what happened to me
Laugh, laugh
Even the jester has to laugh
When everything turns upside down
It sometimes helps to laugh
And at the crossroads, don't turn and look away
Let it kiss you on the face
And then have a laugh
There’s two women in your life
And sometimes there’s three
You can make a wish upon a star
Only to find it land in your street
I know, ‘cause that's what happened to me
Laugh, laugh
Even the jester has to laugh
When everything turns upside down
It sometimes helps to laugh
There’s two people fighting for your mind
And sometimes there’s three
Each mask you wear at different times
Till one fits comfortably
I know, ‘cause that's what happened to me
Laugh, laugh
Even the jester has to laugh
When everything turns upside down
It sometimes helps to laugh
And at the crossroads, don' turn and look away
Let it kiss you on the face
And then have a laugh
Copyright Colin Coplin 2010
poem by Colin Coplin

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Without the Empire we should be tossed like a cork in the cross current of world politics. It is at once our sword and our shield.
quote by William Morris Hughes

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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No one is without Christianity, if we agree on what we mean by that word. It is every individual’s individual code of behavior by means of which he makes himself a better human being than his nature wants to be, if he followed his nature only. Whatever its symbol — cross or crescent or whatever — that symbol is man’s reminder of his duty inside the human race.
quote by William Faulkner

Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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At cross road
Never but at cross road,
Are we at cross road?
Is there any load?
Why not we meet?
Even at cross road.
Are we blood thirsty?
And care for no one,
who may come but none?
Doesn’t concern everyone?
Even at cross road.
Can we not share?
Misery and poverty,
happiness and unhappiness,
hunger and roofless human,
even at cross road.
Why do we cut?
Burn the green forest,
and big trees,
do we want disaster?
Even at cross road.
Rain is scarce,
food also less,
nature is finished,
no bloom for ever,
even at cross road.
Why do we cut throat?
Merely for greed,
does the religion preach?
Priests or heads just teach
Even at cross road.
I may not survive,
peace may not revive,
nobody will also survive,
we will soon be extinct,
even at cross road.
Time is running out,
Still human race is not out,
We may still be in,
Kindness may be over,
Even at cross road,
Life is worth to live in,
forget not but just be in,
embrace but not embarrass them,
help but not reject them
Even at cross road.
We May still not adopt,
remain at large but not still opt,
is the nature so cruel?
Kill and get also killed?
Even at cross road
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal

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