Holy Days
Thousands of churches and thousands of sinners!
But money is still the route of all evil;
And like the pain in my waist and knee.
A thief must be sold for his theft!
And we have to live by every word of the law;
For the borrower is always among us and,
We must be ready to give out to others.
You are an example of this poem and,
The key of the Kingdom is right here beside you;
And like separating the sheep from the goats,
Because the Holy Days are now turned into holidays!
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Related quotes
There Are Thousands And Thousands
there are thousands and thousands of poems
written everyday in this world where we, whether we like it or not,
still continue living, breathing, writing, sighing,
whatever that we do, singing, bathing, playing, mourning,
there are thousands and thousands of poems
thousands of us, doing the same boring things in this world,
you are one of us, we are us, us, us, us,
thousands, and trillions, we are us,
despite, i have my ears for you, my eyes,
all for you.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Nowhere but INDONESIA
Nowhere but Indonesia
Thousands island lies on equator
Sun shines brightly along the year
Welcoming smiles are free of charge
Nowhere but Indonesia
Thousands lie covered those islands
Son shy to says that He is right
Full of charge are those who lies
Nowhere but Indonesia
Hope and pain live in peace
For hope is shadow of the pain
And pain is a charge of the hope
Nowhere but Indonesia
Plant and animals live in harmony
For it was said beyond the ages
and should be paid without objection
Nowhere but Indonesia
Children built their little dream
Tear it off when they grew up
Comes denial when getting old
Nowhere but Indonesia
We smile when we smile
We smile when we not smile
We not smile when you smile
Nowhere but Indonesia
Am on my knee lift up a prayer
God bless my country is what I plea
Coz my country long time no smile
Nowhere but Indonesia
Thousands island lie on equator
Hope and pain live in peace
We smile when we not smile
-
Jakarta,080326
poem by George Sicillia
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A Faery Song
i{Sung by the people of Faery over Diarmuid and Grania,}
i{in their bridal sleep under a Cromlech.}
WE who are old, old and gay,
O so old!
Thousands of years, thousands of years,
If all were told:
Give to these children, new from the world,
Silence and love;
And the long dew-dropping hours of the night,
And the stars above:
Give to these children, new from the world,
Rest far from men.
Is anything better, anything better?
Tell us it then:
Us who are old, old and gay,
O so old!
Thousands of years, thousands of years,
If all were told.
poem by William Butler Yeats
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The Holidays Are For Those Not Alone
THE HOLIDAYS ARE FOR THOSE NOT ALONE
The holidays are for those not alone-
For the alone the holidays rub in the pain
Everyone else has someone who cares-
For the alone
There is no one and nothing-
Only greater envy and sadness and sense of loss-
For the alone
There are no holidays
Only special days of pain and more hurt.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Faery Song
Sung by the people of Faery over Diarmuid and Grania, in their bridal sleep under a Cromlech.
We who are old, old and gay,
O so old!
Thousands of years, thousands of years,
If all were told:
Give to these children, new from the world,
Silence and love;
And the long dew-dropping hours of the night,
And the stars above:
Gie to these children, new from the world,
Rest far from men.
Is anything better, anything better?
Tell us it then:
Us who are old, old and gay,
O so old!
Thousands of years, thousands of years,
If all were told.
poem by William Butler Yeats
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In A World Where Money Only Matters
When your amount of money can say more about you than words of you can ever say
It does not speak volumes of the society that we have to live in today
If that only speaks of our true worth it does not say much for humanity
When you say money only matters you seem spiritually bankrupt to me.
In a World where money only matters how poor indeed we all must be
Not surprising that so many people are living in dire poverty
If a few have the most of the money what does that mean for the majority
They struggle just for to make ends meet and they are poor financially.
In this 21st century of big Corporations we now have the privileged few
The wealthy are only growing greedier as more millions in cash they pursue
And thousands they have to grow poorer for every new millionaire
And for millions all around the World about life there is nothing fair.
When we are valued by our worth in money we surely are spiritually poor
The wealthy they keep getting wealthier and for the disease of greed there is no cure
And thousands every day dying of starvation and thousands are dying of disease
And in the refugee camps of the World there are thirty million refugees
poem by Francis Duggan
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A Wilderness Ministry
John the Baptist
was a voice crying
in the wilderness
preparing a way
for coming Jesus Christ
power of Holy Spirit
are there now
no voices crying
in the wilderness?
Is there now
no need for a ministry
like most righteous John?
God will use hands
offered even unclean hands
God will make clean.
Lost souls in wilderness
God will send nomadic shepherds
reclaiming preparing a way
angels are separating lost
sheep from among herd goats
Jesus Christ Holy Spirit
are still seeking
lost sheep bleating longing
to be rescued saved.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Theft is not unnatural
In a theft, who is responsible:
The thief or the hoarder?
In a theft, which is the cause:
The thief’s desire or the hoarder’s greed?
Theft is immoral but not unnatural.
08.06.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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I would not give one moment of heaven for all the joy and riches of the world, even if it lasted for thousands and thousands of years.
quote by Martin Luther
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bells Ringing
bells ringing...
thousands and thousands
of bells.... ringing....
the chorus of crows,
the sound of the whip
cracking on thousands
of backs, , ,
black and white,
brown and red....
the fat-bellied ticket taker
stands with hand outstretched...
cant pay the fare... cant ride....
left standing on the corner
of lost, and nameless.
marching to death, leaving
no trace, no footprints....
the bastard children of freedom,
no home to return to....
look up, look up!
the skies full of wings!
bells are ringing!
thousands and thousands
of bells... and each one
has a name!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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The Blood of Thousands
Thousands upon thousands are slain
Each year, are killed in cruel, cold blood.
Thousands cry out, but to no avail—
They are attacked with cruelest hate.
They scream and shout!
But do we care? No! and we never will!
Let’s murder some more! Kill more from inside!
It doesn’t hurt us in the least!
They’re as dead as dead can ever get—
They’ll not trouble us again.
They are gone and now you can rejoice!
Take pride in your murder of innocent blood!
Who are these thousands killed every year?
The infants in your womb!
Murderess! ! Fiend! Heartless animal!
You don’t deserve motherhood!
Abort them. Go ahead. At least they’re in a better place,
A place you’ll never go! At least it’s over, and they
Didn’t have to deal with you, selfish pig!
I hope that guilt tears you apart the way you did to them!
This is abortion.
This is evil.
This is.....
Murder!
poem by Paige Scott
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God’s Word
Living out the Truths we’ve heard, comes in obeying God’s Holy Word,
As the Word of God dwells in us, when we live our life for Christ Jesus.
We can live our lives in Christ’s Love, as we focus on our Savior above,
In this world, to live our life higher, God’s Word needs to be our desire,
Through the Word of God’s Wisdom, we’re fit to serve in His Kingdom.
All men will wither to fall like grass, but, God’s Word shall forever last,
God’s Word will last forevermore, with Truth eternally certain and sure.
The Lord’s promises will fail never, as His Holy Word shall last forever,
The Word of God will empower, the life of believers each day and hour,
Power that’s been revealed by God, to guide us upon this earthly sod.
Only God’s Word can fill your soul, to make one’s life pure and whole,
God’s Holy Word can purify the lives, of every believer in Jesus Christ.
It is God’s Word that changes men, filling hearts and cleansing them,
With Living Water from the Lord, while blessing in our heart is poured,
To keep our life on this earth pure, from a source that’ll forever endure.
Following men we falter and fail, but, living God’s Word we will prevail,
To live for God’s Kingdom friend; a new life in Christ which has no end.
The Word of God is available to all, who’ve been freed from man’s fall,
For one to begin a New Life in Him, Christ, who saved us from our sin,
To live according to God’s Word, those eternal Truths that we’ve heard.
(Copyright ©08/2008)
Theft of people
I am not a thief;
I don’t steal anything.
I am still a thief;
I steal people for me.
I coax others clients
To switch over to me..
I steal women’s heart
Unknown to their partners.
Paramours and elopers
Are more than a thief.
Theft of kinds is
Less a threat to us
Than the theft of peoplf.
07.10.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Day of Grief
Day is...
Day is not...
The sun
Continues to rise...
And set...
Only to rise again.
Life goes on...
Day in...
Day out...
And yet, somewhere,
Buried deep in my soul,
The tears continue
To fall,
And the pain goes on,
Always and ever,
For those lost souls
Of September 11,
And for the loss
Of the world
As we knew it.
As FDR said about the bombing of Pearl Harbor, at the start of World
War II, 'A day that will live in infamy...' So is the day the Twin Towers
fell, and thousands died...Thousands who planned to go home that night, and yet never had the chance. Thousands who never dreamed their world would end on that day, in that way, became immortal before the setting of the sun, September 11,2001. God rest their souls.
Linda Treat
September 11,2001
poem by Scarlett Treat
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My Neighbours Proclaim I Am Not A Christian
My neighbours say I am not a Christian...
because I rarely proudly go to church
weekly week by week proudly as they do.
Yet I worship God spend time with God...
every day we meet still have so much to say
while God’s poor suffer daily for them I pray.
Worship for me cannot be but once one day a week...
among those already happy proudly saved
while in the wilderness still cry our Lord's lost sheep?
Sermons for those already saved these words do not stay...
where Holy Spirit and I walk among sinners weak
my energy dissipates as I run the race to ease pain of sinners weak?
This may be all in vain I unseen do as their cry...
comes to me ever anew but with their pain I remain
for the flock has shepherds many these poor have not any?
God I miss fellowship in worship with my fellow man...
but in the pulpit I rarely stand within any given community
yet I pray for local churches who support the weak at every stand.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Ready Now
(stewart, stocker)
I gave trust like an innocent kid
I believed everything you said
A parasite that fed on doubt
Yeah its you that Im talking about
You rode heavy on my fame
Then you scandalized my name
You robbed me blind with a ( )
You lacerated your closest friend
I dont know how you sleep at
Night with your conscience
Do they still kiss your feet
And is life as sweet in my absence
Im ready now, ready now for what I gotta give
Im ready now, ready now for how I want to live
I dont want no sweet revenge
Itll come and get you in the end
Laugh now while the truths unknown
Cause pretty soon itll be my turn
One of these days and it wont be long
I will find you
Lock up your gates
Youll need all of your snakes
To defend you
Im ready now, ready now for what I gotta give
Im ready now, ready now for how I want to live
Im bitter now, but wait and see
You aint heard the last of me
Ill dance on your grave
When they finally put you away
Whatd I do to deserve all this evil attention
A thousand years will never buy you redemption
Are you ready now, ready now for what you gotta give
Are you ready now, ready now for how you gotta give
Are you ready
song performed by by Rod Stewart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Belief Of A Thief
Behold the cruel cross of Christ!
Two lost souls balanced there!
But only one thief realised
Christ was beyond compare!
Consider three men hoisted high,
Secured, nowhere to go...
Yet Jesus knew why He must die
And why He suffered so...
Behold the Man, the Son of God,
Whom Judas had betrayed,
The Saviour, Jesus, shedding blood
For sinners who had strayed...
Good Shepherd dying for His sheep,
Indeed, the Sinners' Friend,
While John and Mary vigil keep,
Until the very end!
Behold the crowd at safety's length,
Accepting what was done
And witness to the fading strength
Of victims one-by-one...
Yet suddenly, one thief had faith,
Beyond this deadly hour,
When He asked Jesus Christ to save,
Acknowledging His power!
'Remember me, when You receive
Your Kingdom when You die! '
Lord Jesus said, 'This day we leave...
To Paradise, we fly! '
Like them, we know that death is near,
Yet Heaven waits above!
The Gospel Truth is crystal clear...
In Christ, the King of Love!
Denis Martindale, copyright, March 2012.
We can hear the word of the Lord on
Revelation TV on UK Sky Digital 581
as well as the WATCH NOW link on
the revelationtv-dot-com website...
poem by Denis Martindale
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Paying The Wrong Guys
To the artist you claim to support.
Why do you continue to rip off.
An abandon moral objective.
Just because advertisement says free.
Just buy a song or cd.
A single song, a single cd.
It is not an evil industry.
Most of artist produce their own labels.
And regardless they still receive their royalties.
Yet we still prefer the illegal activities.
The kingdom of piracy.
Just buy a song or cd.
With Google we spy everything.
Including these companies who offer premium downloads for a fee.
Outrageous as it might seem.
It's not even legal.
Write a complaint and its ignored.
The greed is even in our technology.
Theft is theft no matter the method.
Just buy a song or cd.
Theft is theft no matter the method.
Just buy a song or cd.
The money that should be going to the musicians.
And it will be just wasted in all eventualities in legal fees.
99.9% of these artist are of the middle class.
Intellectual property.
The laws haven't quite caught up.
And they probably never will.
Just do what's right.
And buy a song or cd.
Theft is theft no matter the method.
Just buy a song or cd.
Is it the generation?
Please prove me wrong.
Theft is theft no matter the method.
Just buy a song or cd.
Is it the generation?
Please prove me wrong.
Do we not understand what we are promoting?
We do have a choice.
Even in hard times.
Remember that little jingle stuck in your head.
It keeps from falling so deep into a depression.
So let me ask you why is it you won't buy a song or cd?
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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When They Deny 'You
WHEN THEY DENY ‘YOU’
When they deny You
And indict You
And mock You
And prove You do not exist
I feel a certain despair
And pray to You with greater desperation.
Why don’t You give us simple proof?
Why do You allow so many horrors in the world
Which speak against You?
Why must I need You so much?
And why I must have to look
To the Beauty of this world and the goodness of my life
To strengthen my faith in You?
Why must I live too in question and doubt
Needing and loving You nonetheless
Fearing You too to the depth of my childhood?
Oh God
Give me more proof each day
With all the thousands and thousands of kindnesses
You have given
I ask for still more.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Wild Goats
Rock of escaping goats,
Your own eyes have seen this day;
But understand and perceive the muse of my love.
From evil doers comes evil deeds,
But i will pay homage to the things which are right;
And like the crags of the wild goats.
Give me a special blessing and let me love you,
Give me a special love and let me guide you,
Give me a special care and let me be with you always;
And she became the trap for him who was asleep.
On the crag of the wild goats,
Do love yourself first before loving me;
For you can't love others by hating yourself.
Rock of escaping goats,
I am a poor man and little known by you;
But my mind is faster than the bullets of war!
To the son-in-law of the king,
And to the daughter-in-law of the queen;
This is the time that i am free from war,
And like the rock of escaping goats.
Whose son is this boy?
Whose daughter is this girl?
Whose husband is this man?
Whose wife is this woman?
On the cage of the wild goast to take a rest;
But this is the day that Yahweh spoke of.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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