The Wise And The Unwise
They call themselves Saints but,
They are no Saints;
This message is for both the wise and the unwise.
According to the flesh,
According to the spirit,
According to her love,
According to her pasions,
And according to his care;
This poem is for both the wise and the unwise.
Tribulation and anguish,
Upon every soul who does evil;
But glory, honour and peace to,
Every soul who works righteousness
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Ragged and Wise.
I Looked into my garden,
At the bluebells.
And thought of a wood,
Far away and long ago.
I could never return to (anymore) .
Ragged and wise.
I never, ever saw your lies.
Why is love so unwise?
I`ve loved my garden,
It`s every new growth and nuance.
But never as much as
I longed for
Your smiling eyes.
Once more,
Ragged and unwise.
poem by Peter Vealey
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The Lives Of The Saints
The lives of the saints are very good
Because the saints takes care of their health and Hygiene very well
The saints always changes their clothes everyday because they transpire Very fast in heaven due to the heat that is turned on in the winter in Heaven
Yes it gets very hot in heaven that sometimes they have to open the Windows just a bit so they can get some fresh air
And heaven is home to the saints
But the saints love living in heaven because there is no noise or Violence
During the day the saints leaves heaven and come down to earth to Help in a food bunk and they get paid for their work
poem by Aldo Kraas
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The Lives Of The Saints Ii
The lives of the saints are very good
Because the saints takes care of their health and Hygiene very well
The saints always changes their clothes everyday because they transpire Very fast in heaven due to the heat that is turned on in the Winter in heaven
Yes it gets very hot in heaven that sometimes they have to open the Windows just a bit so they can get some fresh air
And heaven is home to the saints
But the saints love living in heaven because there is no noise or violence
During the day the saints leaves heaven and come down to earth to Help in a food bank and they get paid for their work
poem by Aldo Kraas
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We Are Saints
I’ve been sanctified, set apart, for God’s service from the start,
The very moment that I believed, when Christ’s Spirit I received,
I was indeed, set apart by God, while still upon this earthly sod,
Sealed by the Spirit of Christ, for God’s purpose within this life.
All believers are God’s holy ones, truly set apart, by God’s Son,
Becoming saints while on earth, through the power of New Birth,
Indeed, not by the choice of men, but when we were Born Again,
We’re true saints of The Living God, led on earth by Christ’s rod.
Saints, according to God’s Grace, for His purpose on this place,
To have an impact, in this world, as His Truth we fervently herald,
Truth that states we are saints, regardless of what religion paints,
Saints, chosen by Christ The Lord, truth, that by many is ignored.
We are saints, as God has willed, with His purpose to be fulfilled,
Not simply saints for another time, but on earth by God’s Design,
Separated from this world’s plan, to be used by The Son of Man,
In spreading the Gospel of Christ, while in this present earthly life.
We’re not saints for just above, but here by God for sharing love,
The love of His Saving Gospel, as this for believers is God’s will,
To fill with saints the Church of God, those upon this earthly sod,
Then we can spend Eternal Life, saints together with Jesus Christ.
(Copyright ©01/2012)
We Will Pray For You!
Sometimes the soul is weak not strong
And prayer is hard to do...
God's saints still pray the whole day long
And we will pray for you...
Sometimes the body needs relief
From aches and pains that grew...
God's saints still pray with firm belief
And we will pray for you...
Sometimes the mind is full of woe
As if it had no clue...
God's saints the demons overthrow
And we will pray for you...
Sometimes Man's riches melt away,
So how can folks get through?
God's saints trust God, yes, come what may
And we will pray for you...
Sometimes true love's a distant thing
And blessings seem so few...
God's saints love Jesus Christ the King
And we will pray for you...
Denis Martindale, copyright, June 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...
The poem was read out on the
Voice In The Wilderness show,
Revelation TV,29th of June,2012.
poem by Denis Martindale
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All White
All white, all light, all beautiful she stands,
Love in her eyes, a glory round her brows,
Blanched as the lilies chaste in her chaste hands.
Even so God's saints in their celestial house.
Red only are her lips, ay, red as those
Turned by the Queen, that happy day in France,
As yet unkissed, to him who made his vows,
Victor in fight, to her his soul's romance.
Idly she stands in dreams.--Ah, Launcelot,
Couldst thou but plead here haply and prevail,
Touch her soft cheek, draw tears from her sweet eyes,
Open her lips to passionate words unwise,
Receive her true kiss 'neath thy coat of mail:
In Love's name, I who love, should grudge it not.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Like A Lizard
They easily expose their nakedness to the public eye,
Like a lizard in the heat of the sun;
Wake up and cover yourselves!
Dress up and be very wise at all times.
My eyes cannot see your nakedness,
Like our feet to the shadow of death;
Righteousness and peace,
Joy with my heart in the Holy spirit;
The lusts of the flesh is like,
She who is passing the bloom of her youth.
Love builds the home and knowledge carries one to grow,
But my message is free of charge;
Who tends a flock and does not drink of the milk?
Plow in hope and sow in tears in this life;
For your haverst will be great!
Do not beat the air and,
Do not run aimlessly;
Because this message is written for our admonition.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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I Lost The Calm Of My Poem and The Peace Of My Soul
I lost the calm of my poem and the peace of my soul
When I heard murderers would go free
And those who had deliberately killed women and children
Would torment yet again their victims’ families-
I lost the calm and the peace of my soul
When I learned that we had forsaken our principles of Justice
And given in to blackmail to ransom a single life -
I lost the calm of my poem and the peace of my soul
When I understand one can be too kind and too compassionate
And that those ‘kind to the cruel’ end up being ‘cruel to the kind’
I lost the calm of my poem and the peace of my soul
When I understood we as a people had ceased to be wise and courageous-
And given in to our own excessive sense of compassion and to the cruelty of the cruel.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Hymn 130
Love and hatred.
Phil. 2:2; Eph. 4:30,etc.
Now by the bowels of my God,
His sharp distress, his sore complaints,
By his last groans, his dying blood,
I charge my soul to love the saints.
Clamor, and wrath, and war, begone,
Envy and spite, for ever cease;
Let bitter words no more be known
Amongst the saints, the sons of peace.
The Spirit, like a peaceful dove,
Flies from the realms of noise and strife:
Why should we vex and grieve his love
Who seals our souls to heav'nly life?
Tender and kind be all our thoughts,
Through all our lives let mercy run;
So God forgives our num'rous faults,
For the dear sake of Christ his Son.
poem by Isaac Watts
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The Tomb of Ilaria Giunigi
ILARIA, thou that wert so fair and dear
That death would fain disown thee, grief made wise
With prophecy thy husband's widowed eyes
And bade him call the master's art to rear
Thy perfect image on the sculptured bier,
With dreaming lids, hands laid in peaceful guise
Beneath the breast that seems to fall and rise,
And lips that at love's call should answer, 'Here!'
First-born of the Renascence, when thy soul
Cast the sweet robing of the flesh aside,
Into these lovelier marble limbs it stole,
Regenerate in art's sunrise clear and wide
As saints who, having kept faith's raiment whole,
Change it above for garments glorified.
poem by Edith Wharton
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Who Are The Saints?
Just who are the Saints my friend, let The Word help you comprehend?
Are Saints a select religious few, selected by a tiny hand picked crew?
Are they made for worship by men, which by Christ will be condemned?
Or are they men like me and you, who have come into a life that’s new?
Call no one on earth Father Jesus said, it’s in Matthew haven’t you read?
For we have but one Father in Heaven, all else is simply religious leaven.
Men’s pious religious veneration, has nothing to do with true Salvation.
True Saints are humbled when, they realize they should be condemned.
All those who come to Christ in faith, are said by God to be His Saints.
Saints are the men set apart by God, while still upon this earth we trod.
We become a Saint when we believe, so please friend, don’t be deceived.
The Bible said that men would fall away, in the spiritual apostasy of today.
What about the Saints at Ephesus, should these men be respected less?
What about the Saints at Rome, the Pope or Vatican wasn’t even known?
Why not believe the words of Christ, if we’re serious about Eternal Life?
The Holy Spirit is the one who seals, all God’s living Saints who are real.
Our worship should go to only one; and that is God and His Only Son.
Just one mediator between God and man, this is easy to understand.
The mediator is Jesus Christ; for Christ is the One who gave His life.
He gave His life for me and you; Christ died so we could live life anew.
Because of His work on the cross, we enter God’s throne with boldness.
He now intercedes for the Saints, who pray to God through humble faith.
Soon Christ will call His Saints up, to return with Him in eternal triumph.
Then religious men in fear will faint, when they see Christ’s real Saints.
Saints In Hell
They laughed at their gods
And fought them in vain
So he turned his back on them
And left them in pain
Now here come the saints
With their banners held high
Each one of them martyrs
Quite willing to die
Wake the dead, the saints are in hell
Wake the dead, theyve come for the bell
Cover your fists
Razor your spears
Its been our possession
For 8,000 years
Fetch the scream eagles
Unleash the wild cats
Set loose the king cobras
And blood sucking bats
Wake the dead, the saints are in hell
Wake the dead, theyve come for the bell
We are saints
In hell
We are saints
In hell
Were going down
Into the fire
Were going down
Into the fire
The streets run with blood from the mass mutilation
As carnage took toll for the bell
Abattoir, abattoir, mon dieu quelle horreur
For a time is was like second hell
Saints in hell
Saints in hell
The battle is over, the saints are alive
How can we all thank you, we felt so despised
Saints in hell
Saints in hell
Saints in hell
Saints in hell
Saints in hell
Saints in hell
(fade)
song performed by by Judas Priest
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Unwise Are Wise Enough!
Wise is the one who eats to live
And live to eat;
He knows for sure he will be hungry,
And the stomach can never be filled,
Keeps it half filled!
People are with head,
One fourth filled with thoughts and ideas,
One fourth by emotions and prejudice,
One fourth by desires and ambitions,
One fourth felt empty but filled with froth of ego and lies!
Some love to live, but most live to love,
many like to
Work and earn!
Some only dream and yearn,
Even many saints live in painted mansions,
Golden shoes, cosmetics,
bold and beautiful
Girls on posh cot and beds,
False are these,
when men and woman are lusty,
They fear God,
Godmen when are lusty,
Fear neither god or men!
Bright they are in daylight,
dark and devilish, under the veil of dark
or they twinkle with twinkling form stars!
Most like to live with hope,
hope of love or love of hope,
Falling to faiths and superstitions,
no faith is better than faith in one's own Self,
Whom we call low people,
Daring they are to take what fate,
or the Gods may give.
They ask no question,
no time to make no prayer,
No time to kiss the lips and caress the
hair,
Only tired they retire!
No passion no fashion,
as they greet morning Sun with busy and tense mind,
ready to face flow of life and accept failure or pain as their fate,
The work hard and toil
To have that little for the day,
Try to hold breath and to face trifles,
they have to work with clock,
in time they reach their workplace, they are ready to anything
let go anythong they have,
Or ready to accept Whatever come on thier way!
Wise are wise to exploit,
Unwise or not fools,
They are wise to make their own way!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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The wise become as the unwise in the enchanted chambers of Power, whose lamps make every face the same colour.
quote by Walter Savage Landor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hymn 126
Charity and uncharitableness.
Rom. 14:17,19; 1 Cor. 10:32.
Not diff'rent food, or diff'rent dress,
Compose the kingdom of our Lord;
But peace, and joy, and righteousness,
Faith, and obedience to his word.
When weaker Christians we despise,
We do the gospel mighty wrong;
For God, the gracious and the wise,
Receives the feeble with the strong.
Let pride and wrath be banished hence;
Meekness and love our souls pursue;
Nor shall our practice give offence
To saints, the Gentile or the Jew.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Sow Better Seeds
The first shall be the last and,
The last shall be first;
So, do sow better seeds along the way of your life.
You will reap what you sow and,
You will be trapped in your own traps;
Like the first and the last.
'Penny wise and Pounds foolish',
The saying of a message to calm down the rivers;
The weather us warm and bright but,
You are without the words of your father.
Our sins, what are its wages?
This is the message to calm down the seas;
For only one night,
For only one love,
To feel what i used to feel when love calls;
Like a message to calm down the oceans.
A poem of shirts,
A poem of skirts,
A poem of shoes,
A poem of trousers!
Like the daughter of the earth;
This is a message to calm down the waters.
Till the stars shine through the roofs,
'Penny wise and Pounds foolish';
Dark fell the night like English Slaves in the woodland.
The last shall be first,
With eyelids heavy and red;
Do sow a better for a better tomorrow.
The last shall be first and,
The first shall be last;
Gain your tomorrow like a golden cup.
You will reap what you sow,
Like the law from a father's word;
You will reap what you sow.
Of all the flowers,
The reapers reaped;
But when he morrow comes,
Some works of a noble note is much needed.
To seek and to find without yielding is the case here,
Like unequal laws unto a savage race;
Sow a better seed and,
Learn how to do your best in all things.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Body And Soul
This body; a sheer materialist
Seeks sensuous pleasures
The soul; a pure spiritualist
Wants to meld with the Redeemer
Man is thus in fight with the man inside
Whether to treat this flesh and blood
With aesthetics and physical indulgence
Or wait with asceticism for heavenly bliss
Questions reign; answers elude
Many a true wise man died dispirited
Leaving a little said and a lot unsaid
Those few greats living today are subdued
But these conundrums, for some charlatans
Became unexpected professional boons
Mushroomed half-bred brains christened as
Saints, sages, realists, rationalists and so on.
Well, their business is going on fine
The so called saints are enjoying material gains
Pagans are praying God to let their crowd swell
To buttress their pretensions and power-castles
Even I don’t know for sure the answers
God or no God; rational or irrational
I only know that we are all social animals
Supposed to treat with love and kindness, each other
poem by Sathya Narayana
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But Paul, in his preaching of the Gospel, is a debtor to deliver the word not to Barbarians only, but also to Greeks, and not only to the unwise, who would easily agree with him, but also to the wise.
Psalm 94 part 1
v.1,2,7-14
C. M.
Saints chastised, and sinners destroyed; or, Instructive afflictions.
O God, to whom revenge belongs,
"Proclaim thy wrath aloud;
Let sovereign power redress our wrongs,
Let justice smite the proud.
They say, "The Lord nor sees nor hears:"
When will the fools be wise?
Can he be deaf who formed their ears?
Or blind, who made their eyes?
He knows their impious thoughts are vain,
And they shall feel his power;
His wrath shall pierce their souls with pain
In some surprising hour.
But if thy saints deserve rebuke,
Thou hast a gentler rod;
Thy providence's and thy book
Shall make them know their God.
Blest is the man thy hands chastise,
And to his duty draw;
Thy scourges make thy children wise
When they forget thy law.
But God will ne'er cast off his saints,
Nor his own promise break
He pardons his inheritance
For their Redeemer's sake.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Saints An Sinners
(coverdale/lord/moody/marsden/murray/paice)
Get ready for judgement day
An the final curtain call,
Dont lie when you testify
cos the good lord know youre all
Saints an sinners, priests an thieves,
Saints an sinners, priests an thieves
When moses stood on the red sea shore
Laying the law on the line,
He said dont come knocking
On the pearly gates
If all you did was have a real good time
Saints an sinners, priests an thieves,
Saints an sinners, priests an thieves
For what we are about to receive
May the lord make us truly thankful.
Saints an sinners
I stand guilty of a thousand crimes,
An I suffer temptation still,
Show me a man who wont give it to his woman
An Ill show you somebody who will
Saints an sinners, priests an thieves,
Saints an sinners, priests an thieves
For what we are about to receive
May the lord make us truly thankful
Saints an sinners,
Saints an sinners, priests an thieves,
Get ready for judgement day
An the final curtain call,
Dont lie when you testify
cos the good lord know youre all
Saints an sinners, priests an thieves,
Saints an sinners, priests an thieves
For what we are about to receive
May the lord make us truly thankful
Saints an sinners, priests an thieves
Saints an sinners...
song performed by by Whitesnake
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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