Where Does God Live?
The earth sings a song to me
So I can listen and hope to be
One who cares about each new flower
That graces the ground it grows upon
And comes alive with each new dawn?
The earth speaks a poem to me
So I can listen expectantly
For the words that give the earth its praise
As it tries its best to provide for us all
Through winter, spring, summer and fall?
The earth paints a picture for me
So I can see its colors vibrantly?
For the majestic sights that come alive
Capture the grandeur of artistic delight,
So I can never forget what was in my sight.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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What The Earth Does
The earth sings a song to me
so I can listen and hope to be
one who cares about each new flower
that graces the ground it grows upon
and comes alive with each new dawn.
The earth speaks a poem to me
so I can listen expectantly
for the words that give the earth its praise
as it tries its best to provide for us all
through winter, spring, summer and fall.
The earth paints a picture for me
so I can see its colors vibrantly.
For the majestic sights that come alive
capture the grandeur of artistic delight
so I won't forget what was in my sight.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bloody Cape
In waves the ships have all sailed to the sea
Well do you wanna wait or leave with me tonight
Cross your heart and pray the ocean will take us all the way in...
First we are, ever to fall off of the earth...
We must be the first ones in the world to fall of the earth
We could be... soon as our needs are fed
You'll give in to me and the whole heartache
Makes me feel alive/same typical offering/
And you always knew we make it all the way in...
First we are, ever to fall off of the earth...
We must be the first ones in the world to fall of the earth
It could be soon...as...
The carnival's empty I need you to take me home...
god help, god help ...
song performed by by Deftones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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While I'm Alive
While I’m alive I want to live.
While I’m alive I want to give
All of myself to every minute
And feel the joy of being in it.
To see the sun and feel its heat,
To feel the earth under my feet,
To see the darkened skies at night
And all the stars within my sight
Brings me feelings beyond compare.
While I’m alive I want to share.
While I’m alive I want to be aware
Of why I’m here for this moment in time
And give of myself on my earthly climb
To those I love and those I meet
That will be the catalysts to help me defeat
All the lonely times I feel
That try their best to try and steal
The feelings I’ve grown to love.
I ask for patience. I ask for peace.
I anticipate goodness and expect an increase
In bodily sensation and artistic creation
As I fill each minute with whom I am
And never forget my fellow man.
And while I’m alive I never forget
What makes me happy on each new day,
To live, to love and always pray
For acceptance in my life
poem by Edwina Reizer
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A Saxon Epitaph
The earth builds on the earth
Castles and towers;
The earth saith of the earth:
All shall be ours.
Yea, though they plan and reap
The rye and the corn,
Lo, they were bond to Sleep
Ere they were born.
Yea, though the blind earth sows
For the fruit and the sheaf,
They shall harvest the leaf of the rose
And the dust of the leaf.
Pride of the sword and power
Are theirs at their need
Who shall rule but the root of the flower
The fall of the seed.
They who follow the flesh
In splendour and tears,
They shall rest and clothe them afresh
In the fulness of years.
From the dream of the dust they came
As the dawn set free.
They shall pass as the flower of the flame
Or the foam of the sea.
The earth builds on the earth
Castles and towers.
The earth saith of the earth:
All shall be ours.
poem by Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
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The song feels the infinite in the air, the picture in the earth, the poem in the air and the earth; For its words have meaning that walks and music that soars.
aphorism by Rabindranath Tagore from Stray Birds (1916), translated by Rabindranath Tagore
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Give Yourself A Chance
Since thousands of years
Colors and religions are fighting against each other
But - where ever you are
Who ever you are
Give yourself a chance
For peace on earth
I'm back with the track
I'm white not black
But the color doesn't matter
So now step back
Brown or black or white no matter what
You now what time it is
It's time to say enough
Cause every nation in a situation
You know its time for a combination
See what they spray up on the wall
Stop the war
That's not your fault
Give yourself a chance
Right now
Give yourself a chance
For peace on earth
Give yourself a chance
Right now
Give yourself a chance
For peace on earth
You better listen
To what i got to say
I got the mic in my hand and i am on my way
It's not terminator, not superman
Not a bad story of the ku-klux-klan
It's like a picture
And it starts to shine
It's bright in colors, so open your mind
Give yourself a chance
Take it in your hand
Give yourself a chance
Got to understand
There's a nightmare were dreaming of
Cold violence and war
What we are living for
Is love we adore
song performed by by DJ Bobo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Earth teach me to forget myself as melted snow forgets its life. Earth teach me resignation as the leaves which die in the fall. Earth teach me courage as the tree which stands all alone. Earth teach me regeneration as the seed which rises in the spring.
quote by William Alexander
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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God's Poets A Good Poem & Love
GOD'S POETS
The prize jewels of any nation
Are the philosophers of the heart.
How they think is universal
For it's God who makes them so smart.
Most poets tell the truth of life
Though they may wrap it in beauty.
It's their passion, not their purpose
To compose is but their duty.
Poets have no reason to lie
When the truth is always so clear.
All that others say and do
Is but food for the poet's ear.
One merit of a poet's work
Which most cannot deny.
They say more and in fewer words
To illuminate you and I.
God sent His poets down to earth
With words of wisdom and of worth.
That they might touch the souls of men
And bring them back to Him again.
A GOOD POEM
A good poem paints a picture
For both your heart and brain.
It doesn't need a second chance
To make its meaning plain.
A good poem is like the flower
The lily or the rose.
God plants it in a poet's brain
And there its beauty grows.
A good poem like a cardinal
Is pregnant with song
You can't help but hear its message
As it sings what's right or wrong.
A good poem helps us remember
What the joys of life are for
It makes us want to love someone
Till death comes knocking at our door.
When A Mounting Skylark Sings
When a mounting skylark sings
In the sunlit summer morn,
I know that heaven is up on high,
And on earth are fields of corn.
But when a nightingale sings
In the moonlit summer even,
I know not if earth is merely earth,
Only that heaven is heaven.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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O You Beautiful Flower
O you beautiful flower
Of pinkish and white
Earth blossoming shower
In spring’s new light
Ground is your embrace
With the sun radiance
Each bud is of grace
And splendor appearance
Light wind singing bell
Will swing your sprout
Like a sway carrousel
In its movement about
A dance of new spring
In meadows of green
To ground now sing
Of budding fresh scene
Rose-tinted so fine
Under blueness of sky
Your growth in sunshine
Now mounting so high
O you beautiful flower
Of pinkish and white
Earth sweetest endower
And spring’s delight
poem by Peter S. Quinn
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Four Seasons
First snowfall this morning.
Ground covered in white.
Flowers have died.
Birds are in flight.
End cycle of life
Death turns into birth
Old becomes new
Renewing our earth
Seasons, like Jesus
Restoring the dead
The blood of the Lamb
And breaking of bread
My seasons, have changed.
I've lost my old ways
Pure white I now sit
From the One whom I praise
I Fall to my knees.
In winter I died.
In spring, I'm reborn.
Summer; alive.
He waits til our fall,
And then helps us rise.
His death for us all,
We see through His eyes.
He is my four seasons.
His will is my goal.
After my death,
He breathes life in my soul
poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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The Day Of Days
Each eve earth falleth down the dark,
As though its hope were o’er;
Yet lurks the sun when day is done
Behind to-morrow’s door.
Grey grows the dawn while men-folk sleep,
Unseen spreads on the light,
Till the thrush sings to the coloured things,
And earth forgets the night.
No otherwise wends on our Hope:
E’en as a tale that’s told
Are fair lives lost, and all the cost
Of wise and true and bold.
We’ve toiled and failed; we spake the word;
None hearkened; dumb we lie;
Our Hope is dead, the seed we spread
Fell o’er the earth to die.
What’s this? For joy our hearts stand still,
And life is loved and dear,
The lost and found the Cause hath crowned,
The Day of Days is here.
poem by William Morris
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A Winter Song (From, Lost Song Poems)
There's outside a winter's song
With frore and grayish earth,
We had the summer for so long
For what each day was worth;
I'll long for summer and spring
Each time the night gets cold,
When weather hollowly will sing
In winter so frosty and bold.
A flower so gracefully done
The winter's rose in my window,
I'll greet you gladly on and on
Cherish your pearl white afterglow;
I've often been in a moody down
When darker the short day comes,
Then I see frosty rose jewel crown
And know in the cold it blooms.
Winter romance and candle lights
Longing for green sweet earth,
Longing for clearings sky bright
And all what the day young's worth;
How can it touch the morning flame
The winter that's gray and dark,
Will not each color be there same
Without its golden morning spark.
poem by Peter S. Quinn
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Here On Earth …, There In Heaven…
Here on earth imperfection, there in heaven perfection
Here on earth discontent, there in heaven content
Here on earth disgrace, there in heaven grace
Here on earth disease, there in heaven ease
Here on earth hatred, there in heaven love
Here on earth war, there in heaven peace
Here on earth decay, there in heaven freshness
Here on earth selfish, there in heaven selfless
Here on earth oppression, there in heaven liberty
Here on earth agonize, there in heaven relax
It’s either on earth, or in heaven
The decision, all yours
poem by Obed Akuma
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Why Can't You Listen?
Why can't you listen?
Why can't you hear words from Me?
Why can't you sit and just be...
To listen.
Listen.
Why can't you listen?
Why can't you hear words from Me?
Why can't you sit and just be...
To listen.
Listen.
Why do you call Me?
Why do you say you're alone?
You wish for Me to appear.
And yet when I'M near.
Your closed ears wont hear Me!
Why do you pray to Me?
Master I Am of your World.
I'M with you there silently.
But you will not see...
Everything that is Me!
One I Am and only One!
Maker of your Moon, Stars and Sun.
All things on Earth that is there...
Is there if you ask,
But your faith does not last!
Why can't you listen?
Why can't you hear words from Me?
Why can't you sit and just be...
To listen.
Listen.
Why do you call Me?
Why do you say you're alone?
You wish for Me to appear.
And yet when I'M near.
Your closed ears wont hear.
A word.
Why can't you listen?
Why can't you hear words from Me?
Why can't you sit and just be...
To listen to Me.
Listen...
And let Me in!
'Father...
Clear my mind of these obstacles! '
I'M trying!
But you wish it 'your' way.
And not the way MY way is.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Earth In Figurative Atmosphere
The earth is a poem
dust of word from soil
comma of rustling river
moving like sentences
over hills below grains
the earth is a poem
the endless way of invisible wind
like writer's ink
encircling spiral earth
narrates methaporical senses
the earth is a poem
beholding singular strength
a verb from greeney scene
all birds fly across simile lane
above appositive mountains
the earth is a poem
the haiku tune of nature's keen
like rhyming notes on ear
drill sentences of joy and pain
read by conscious dwellers
the earth is a poem
and a poem is an earth
where earthly books sojourn
sheltered with apostrophe of love
and hyphen of greatness by God
the Ultimate Author from above
poem by Rommel Mark Dominguez Marchan
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The First Spring Day
THE sunshine died long ago,
Stifled out long ago,
And the waste of the world was grey,
And night was the best to know,
For night was to doze and forget the day,
To be warm and forgetting and still,
And need not the sun and know not the chill:
But oh, for the day that was darkened so!
Why gaze on a barren heaven,
Void and unchanging heaven,
On a barren earth in the grime,
And not a poor blossom given,
No thing that was thinking of sunshine time,
For a promise, a praise of the past?
And so one forgot the sunshine at last;
And sleep could avail, but what to have striven?
The sunshine wakes once anew,
Wakes and is born anew,
And the Age of the earth grows young,
And heaven has its youth for hue,
And hope is the tune of the spring-bird's tongue,
And the leaves in their prisons all hark,
And blossoms will know there is end of the dark:
One hour of the sun, and the spring-time grew!
The sunshine new on the earth,
Heaven to brighten the earth,
And the deathful dimness gone by,
The barren and winter dearth!
And to-day is the best till the next is nigh,
And to-night is to-morrow begun,
To-morrow, when blossoms remember the sun!
Dead hopes, are ye born with the blossoms birth?
poem by Augusta Davies Webster
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To be the Veda
Who am I?
Who put me here?
Why am I here?
What should I do?
Who will tell me who I am?
Who will tell me, who put me here?
Who will tell me, why I'm here,
and tell me then, what I should do? ..
Sometimes, I am all thankfulness
for what keeps all of me alive;
is there a greater one whom I may thank?
And sometimes, I'm alive with praise;
Is there a greater one whom I may praise?
Sometimes, as thunder rolls and lightning strikes,
earth quakes; seas foam,
I am all fear; is there a one
who’ll tell me, the other, or the greater
things that I should fear,
and tell me what I need not fear?
From day to day, my thankfulness
wells up for this; and then for that:
the earth that yields me food,
the rain that helps it grow,
the sun and light that help it ripen,
the air that I must breathe,
the sounds that draw me to my fellow men:
so are there many such, whose mighty powers
I should thank and praise,
or is there only One?
Or are there many in the One
whom I should thank and praise –
and what then do these greater powers
know of each other; know of that One?
Sometimes, when all is silent, still,
I seem to have a hint of whom I am;
of why I’m here; what I should do;
then who will tell me the greater more
of all the more I think I know?
Sometimes, when all is silent, still,
I wish to spend my days deep in that place;
but I must work; then should I trust
some other man or woman, who will spend
their days in thanking, praising, in my place?
or can my work be also thanks and praise?
who judges thanks and praise enough?
Sometimes, when all is silent, still,
I feel a greatness in me, that
joins me to all things in myself..
who shall tell me more of this?
Sometimes, when all is silent, still,
I seek for sounds, and words, and song,
to measure all that this heart feels:
oh, who will teach me greater words?
Is there a teacher, and a taught?
Or is the teacher all around?
Or is the teacher all within?
Oh, who will tell me whom I am,
in words that sing as from myself?
*
[An ongoing attempt to ‘imagine myself’ into the spirit of the Veda]
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Red Stained the Earth
When white clouds filled the land
Red stained the earth
Thunder roared and lightning struck
Red stained the earth
Darkness devoured the soul
Red stained the earth
Smoke choked the air
Red stained the earth
Cries were loud but never heard
Red stained the earth
Words misunderstood
Red stained the earth
A compromise was in vain
Red stained the earth
Land was stripped of its beauty
Red stained the earth
Raped of dignity, honor and trust
Red stained the earth
Language lost, stories untold
Red stained the earth
No more tradition, no more culture
Red stained the earth
When white clouds filled the land
Red stained the earth
poem by Ema Bovoro
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Human Existence On Earth
How do you define human existence on earth?
Some say our life on earth is like a journey
The journey begins from the day we are born
And terminates the day we die
Others say that our life is a school
We start learning from the day we are born
Everyday of our life on earth
There is always something new to learn
The schooling ends the day we die
Few compare our life on earth to the sun
Our sunrise is the day we are born
While our sun sets on the day we die
Our life can also be likened to a flower
The flower is planted the day we are born
As we grow up, our flower germinates
When we reach middle-age
Our flower blooms and sparkles
After we retire, our flower fades away
Life of humans can also be equated to the four seasons
The spring covers birth to adolescent years
Summer of our life begins from adolescent to middle-age
While fall season starts from middle-age to retirement
The winter of our life will be from retirement to death
Another analogy is to liken human existence on earth
To the waxing and waning of the moon
From our birth to the time we retire from active service
Can be compared to waxing of the new moon to full moon
While our life from retirement to our death
Can be associated with the waning of full moon to new moon
Whatever may be your own analysis of life?
Always live everyday to the fullest
poem by Julius Babarinsa
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