The Gates of Paradise
For the Sexes
Mutual Forgiveness of each Vice
Such are the Gates of Paradise
Against the Accusers chief desire
Who walkd among the Stones of Fire
Jehovahs Finger Wrote the Law
Then Wept: then rose in Zeal & Awe
And the Dead Corpse from Sinais heat
Buried beneath his Mercy Seat
O Christians Christians tell me Why
You rear it on your Altars high
poem by William Blake (1793)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Related quotes
Mutual forgiveness of each vice. Such are the Gates of Paradise.
quote by William Blake
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I feel that Christian music is a subculture directed towards the Christians. It's not really being exposed to non-Christians and it's not really created for non-Christians, so non-Christians almost never hear any of this music.
quote by Larry Norman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I think most non-Christians who try to be good people are probably better Christians than Christians.
quote by Paul Kantner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Like Jesus …
Like Jesus, Christians ought to bear a cross,
And carry it in His foot-steps and fall;
And drink from cup for sake of God though gall,
And walk to Calvary for Christ’s one cause!
Like Jesus, Christians must suffer a lot,
And live a humble life in ways of God,
To reach eternal bliss of Lord’s abode:
By death on cross, we sinners are all bought!
Like Jesus, Christians obey Our Father,
And reach Him through their incessant prayer,
And intercession by Mary Mother;
Our earthly problems, we will not bother!
Like Jesus, Christians will suffer great loss;
Be humiliated for no crimes of ours;
Be ridiculed and flayed, without a cause;
God is our leader, rear-guard and our Boss!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 4-10-2009
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hypocrisy In Christianity
today is Sunday
the one day sunday christians
are off to church
these are the Christians
who are only Christian
one day Sunday a week
Christians for only one day?
one day sunday for a few hours?
sin of Hypocrisy in Christianity?
is one of the most detestable sins
it causes righteous worshippers to stumble
it takes the name of God in vain
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This is God's world, not Satan's. Christians are the lawful heirs, not non-Christians.
quote by Gary North
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Judgment Day
Judgment Day will soon be here, what do Christians have to fear?
Nothing, for they know The Truth, we shall not see God's Reproof,
The judgment that shall be poured, down on the earth by The Lord,
Christians are upon another path, and will not see the Lord's Wrath.
Believers, will be judged in His Love, at Christ's Bema Seat above,
We too will be judged, for our works, which will have eternal perks,
For all the things done for our Lord, we may receive eternal reward,
But, for all done by selfish desire, those works, will be burnt in fire,
If we do above face any trouble, it shall be hay, wood and stubble,
As all our works, Christ shall define, through the Fire of His design,
All that makes it through the fire, were our works of His pure desire,
As on earth we served Jesus Christ, during our temporal earthly life.
After this, a Supper with The Lamb, up above with The Great "I AM."
Dining with Jesus Christ, our Lord, Who, down here, we've adored,
During that time upon the earth, now in Heaven, through New Birth,
For at the time that we believed, Eternal Life from Him we received.
Through Wrath we need not to cope, as His Judgment is our Hope,
For we'll be taken from this earth, up into Heaven, in our New Birth,
Now perfect, with Christ for all time, all through God's pure design,
To return to former ways, never, but, to reign with The Lord forever.
(Copyright ©09/2012)
If the Christians who were alive in the 1770s behaved and believed like the Christians of today, there wouldn't be an America as we know it.
quote by Randall Terry
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What the world requires of the Christians is that they should continue to be Christians.
quote by Albert Camus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sold Years
In those acutely native-days;
when lioness where lion, and the birth of death; was rare.
Days; when people fainted in shock, and wept bitterly, when one says; they are now born again Christians.
Because they always thought the person was dead.
Days, when men worked and walked with overdosed ego.
People loved like there was no tomorrow,
and animals moved, with pampered elegance.
But tradition, cried with oversized echo;
for men, twisted the gods appetites,
and came up with malodorous ideas, which where not of the gods; but theirs.
This made the gods roar in their wooden-visions with wooden rages.
People loved the gods so much; that they heed to all the unjust heavy duty rituals, assigned to them.
Just to appease the iron and wooden ego of the gods.
They sobered endlessly; for they where helplessly buried with their kings, gods and chief-priests.
But they remained harmless, for they could not question or fight the gods.
Darkness fell on the smooth skin of the moon; and gave it heat-rash and chickenpox.
Because fathers; sold wives, kids, brothers and extended families.
While friends; sold friends, fathers, mothers and passerby.
And the chief-priest's; sold the gods.
The colour of our voices, and the strength of our culture; where the fire-lights, they used to tow us away, through the rainbow of pain, toad roads, and blood-bushes, which where blessed with odd faces and thirsty hasty white and black masquerades.
Yes!
It was Africa's blood, it took to grow and cleanse the anger of world.
O my Africa,
although, it runs on half blood and a tin of snuff.
But with pure affection;
it is still so elongated in wisdom, beauty and it wears high-heels, to exhibit how tall she really is; in simplicity and power.
poem by King Femi Oloidi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mark My Words!
'You mark my words, ' the Cabbie said,
To his fare for the night,
'Us Christians know what lies ahead
And we will steer you right.'
Then he explained his earnest faith
In Jesus Christ the Lord
And said that He was strong to save,
That's why He is adored.
'You mark my words, ' the Cabbie said,
'Christ is the light of men!
Lord Jesus Christ rose from the dead!
He's coming back again!
The Holy Bible's prophecies
Are meant to put us straight.
They prove Christ is the Prince of Peace
For whom us Christians wait.'
'You mark my words, ' the Cabbie said,
'Lord Jesus died for you!
Upon that Cross His Blood was shed
To prove God's love is true.
For all our sins He took the blame,
Then took our sins away.
That's why us Christians praise His Name!
That's why us Christians pray.'
'You mark my words, ' the Cabbie said,
To his fare for the night,
'Us Christians must be Spirit-led,
Serve God with all our might! '
The passenger had understood.
He was a Christian, too.
His heart was warmed, 'Our God is good!
Good night and God bless you! '
Denis Martindale, copyright, August 2011.
We can hear the word of the Lord on
Revelation TV on UK Sky Digital and
via the Watch Now webpage on the
Revelation TV website:
revelationtv-dot-com
: : : : : : : : : :
This poem was also uploaded with
the title, You Mark My Words! and this
has its own shortcut for that page:
tinyurl-dot-com/you-mark-my-words
The poem was written for Mark the Cabbie and
it was read out to him on the Revelation TV
show Thank God For Fridays,20th of July 2012.
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You Mark My Words!
'You mark my words, ' the Cabbie said,
To his fare for the night,
'Us Christians know what lies ahead
And we will steer you right.'
Then he explained his earnest faith
In Jesus Christ the Lord
And said that He was strong to save,
That's why He is adored.
'You mark my words, ' the Cabbie said,
'Christ is the light of men!
Lord Jesus Christ rose from the dead!
He's coming back again!
The Holy Bible's prophecies
Are meant to put us straight.
They prove Christ is the Prince of Peace
For whom us Christians wait.'
'You mark my words, ' the Cabbie said,
'Lord Jesus died for you!
Upon that Cross His Blood was shed
To prove God's love is true.
For all our sins He took the blame,
Then took our sins away.
That's why us Christians praise His Name!
That's why us Christians pray.'
'You mark my words, ' the Cabbie said,
To his fare for the night,
'Us Christians must be Spirit-led,
Serve God with all our might! '
The passenger had understood.
He was a Christian, too.
His heart was warmed, 'Our God is good!
Good night and God bless you! '
Denis Martindale, copyright, August 2011.
We can hear the word of the Lord on
Revelation TV on UK Sky Digital and
via the Watch Now webpage on the
Revelation TV website:
revelationtv-dot-com
: : : : : : : : : :
This poem was also uploaded with
the title, You Mark My Words! and this
has its own shortcut for that page:
tinyurl-dot-com/mark-my-words-poem
The poem was written for Mark the Cabbie and
it was read out to him on the Revelation TV
show Thank God For Fridays,20th of July 2012.
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If you read history you will find that the Christians who did most for the present world were precisely those who thought most of the next. It is since Christians have largely ceased to think of the other world that they have become so ineffective in this.
quote by C.S. Lewis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Isaac And Ishmael
Christians against Muslims!
Muslims against Christians!
But, what is really wrong among these two brothers?
Isaac and Ishmael;
Maybe, i have to ask Abraham.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I want to love all the children of God - Christian, Jew, Moslem, Hindu, Buddhist - everyone. I want to love gay Christians and straight Christians.
Poem (‘It Doesn’t Look Like A Finger...’)
It doesn’t look like a finger it looks like a feather of broken glass
It doesn’t look like something to eat it looks like something eaten
It doesn’t look like an empty chair it looks like an old woman
searching in a heap of stones
It doesn’t look like a heap of stones it looks like an estuary where
the drifting filth is swept to and fro on the tide
It doesn’t look like a finger it looks like a feather with broken teeth
The spaces between the stones are made of stone
It doesn’t look like a revolver it looks like a convolvulus
It doesn’t look like a living convolvulus it looks like a dead one
KEEP YOUR FILTHY HANDS OFF MY FRIENDS USE THEM ON
YOUR BITCHES OR
YOURSELVES BUT KEEP THEM OFF MY FRIENDS
The faces between the stones are made of bone
It doesn’t look like an eye it looks like a bowl of rotten fruit
It doesn’t look like my mother in the garden it looks like my father
when he came up from the sea covered in shells and tangle
It doesn’t look like a feather it looks like a finger with broken wings
It doesn’t look like the old woman’s mouth it looks like a handful
of broken feathers or a revolver buried in cinders
The faces beneath the stones are made of stone
It doesn’t look like a broken cup it looks like a cut lip
It doesn’t look like yours it looks like mine
BUT IT IS YOURS NOW
SOON IT WILL LOOK LIKE YOURS
AND ANYTHING YOU SEE WILL BE USED AGAINST YOU
London Bulletin, No. 2 (May 1938), 7.
poem by Hugh Sykes Davies
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Gates Of Tomorrow
Weaving a thread round your heart and your soul
Deceiving your eyes and delaying your goal
Ships in the night when they pass out of sight
Deliver their cargo of earthly delights
To the women and the children the souls of the dead
I've opened their book and no mercy is shed
You want forgiveness and you want it cheap
I don't give redemption rewards for the meek
Suffering evil when you pay the price of fame
There isn't a god to save you if you don't save yourself
You can't blame a madman if you go insane
Give me the strength so I carry on
Trapped in the web but I cut the threads
Show you the gates of tomorrow
Trapped in the web no mercy is shed
Show you the gates of tomorrow
Trapped in the web slaves to the dead
Show you the gates of tomorrow
Trapped in the web but I cut the threads
Show you the gates of tomorrow
Suffering evil when you pay the price of fame
There isn't a god to save you if you don't save yourself
You can't blame a madman if you go insane
Give me the strength so I carry on
Trapped in the web but I cut the threads
Show you the gates of tomorrow
Trapped in the web no mercy is shed
Show you the gates of tomorrow
Trapped in the web slaves to the dead
Show you the gates of tomorrow
Trapped in the web but I cut the threads
Show you the gates of tomorrow
song performed by by Iron Maiden
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Syrian Christians Minority Psychology
meanwhile in conflict Syria
Wall Street Journal reports
Christians arm themselves?
but few Christians openly sided
with Bashar al-Assad's regime
as ethnic Syrian Alawites did?
most wise Syrian Christians
have stayed completely silent
due to feared post-Assad era?
Syrian Christians fear Muslim
Brotherhood or Salafi policies in
splinter chaotic post al-Assad era?
Christians afraid fear facing same
scenario as invaded Iraqis faced...
in 2003 post US military invasion?
Christians fear their communities
caught in crossfire will be devastated
by power struggle sectarian groups?
Christians in neighboring Iraq
suffered greatly in sectarian wars
during power struggle past decade?
Christians since beginning of uprisings
consistently acted with minority psychology
an attitude of Christian passive neutrality?
in attempt overthrow of Syrian President
Bashar al-Assad Christian exclusion...
from revolution uprisings was because?
the Syrian Church warned Christians
not to participate in revolution uprisings
yet Syrian church leaders fear prospect
of an Islamic fundamentalist
future takeover in Syria represents
a greater danger to Christians?
than continuation of current President
Bashar al-Assad's administration
because during Assad era Christians
faced no real policy secular difficulty
in practicing their religion difficulties...
occur in control by a dictator regime?
Assad's regime practiced
rigid precise secular ideology
which afforded minorities
a known measure of protection
world politics now considers
broader regional implications?
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Home...
Heaven?
Paradise?
Rapture or
Cloud nine?
Where is the key
to enter your Bliss?
So high on your heavenly horse.
So proud under your rose-studded straw hat,
can't see disheveled man on his dead cement
horse, independently hardened by empathy- the
anesthesia for poverty;
begging for a dollar piece of bread to eat,
not an outhouse or bathhouse to shit, piss, and bathe-
still nose high as the clouds in the sky;
can't smell nor tell what's smelling to high heavens, cause
head held as high as the hundred dollar
stiletto holding you high and its blade piercing the lowly hearts
Cheeks and lips blood red, sculptured
eyebrows and polka dot finger nails. Yet, you
carry you bags filled with empathy to your church- home.
At home in your brownstone, paradise
as tall as the high ceilings, with
faux pride coming in second.
A home-made key for each the
best fit ones misplaced
and your misled
Many without homes
and
priced out of heaven
by
all Saints.
Paradise is just a dream.
Rapture a state of being.
Cloud nine an idiomatic expression.
The down-to-earth one
exchanges one thought
for another.
Yet remains in the seat
in his own humble home!
(August 6,2011)
poem by Almedia Knight Oliver
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Jews have suffered persecution from misguided Christians who tortured the Jews for their part in killing Christ. These Christians forgot that Christ died because of the sins of all men.
quote by Sargent Shriver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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