
I'm ceded—I've stopped being Theirs
508
I'm ceded—I've stopped being Theirs—
The name They dropped upon my face
With water, in the country church
Is finished using, now,
And They can put it with my Dolls,
My childhood, and the string of spools,
I've finished threading—too—
Baptized, before, without the choice,
But this time, consciously, of Grace—
Unto supremest name—
Called to my Full—The Crescent dropped—
Existence's whole Arc, filled up,
With one small Diadem.
My second Rank—too small the first—
Crowned—Crowing—on my Father's breast—
A half unconscious Queen—
But this time—Adequate—Erect,
With Will to choose, or to reject,
And I choose, just a Crown—
poem by Emily Dickinson

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Rocket Love
Do do do, do do do, do do do, do do do
Do do do, do do do, do do do-oo
I longed for you since I was born
A woman sensitive and warm
And that you were
With pride and strength no one would test
But yet have feminie finesse
And so much more
You took me riding in your rocket gave me a star
But at a half a mile from heaven you dropped me back
Down to this cold, cold world
Took me riding in your rocket gave me a star
But at a half a mile from heaven you dropped me back
Down to this cold, cold world
A female shakespeare of your time
With looks to blow picassos mind
You were the best
Your body moved with grace and song
Like symphonies by bach or brahms
Nevertheless, oh oh
You took me riding in your rocket gave me a star
But at a half a mile from heaven you dropped me back
Down to this cold, cold world
Ooh you took me riding in your rocket gave me a star
But at a half a mile from heaven you dropped me back
Down to this cold, cold world
Da da da, da da da, da da da, da da da
Da da da, da da da-aa
The passion burning in your heart
Would make hells fire seem like a spark
Where did it go
Just why that you would overnight
Turn love to stone as cold as ice
Ill never know
But you took me riding in your rocket gave me a star
But at a half a mile from heaven you dropped me back
Down to this cold, cold world
Baby you took me riding in your rocket gave me a star
But at a half a mile from heaven you dropped me back
Down to this cold, cold world
Cold, too cold, you took me riding in your rocket gave me a star
But at a half a mile from heaven you dropped me back
Down to this cold, cold world
Oh, oh, oh, took me riding in your rocket gave me a star
But at a half a mile from heaven you dropped me back
Down to into this cold, cold world
I would not do that to a dog
Took me riding in your rocket gave me a star
But at a half a mile from heaven you dropped me back
Down to this cold, cold world
You took me riding in your rocket gave me a star
But at a half a mile from heaven you dropped me back
Down to this cold, cold world
Ooh baby
Rocket love
song performed by by Stevie Wonder

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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His True Church
I know many religious people, and one Church with no steeple,
A church that’s built with no walls, built on only believing souls,
Built upon an Eternal Foundation, that being our very Salvation,
Built upon The One Cornerstone, and that is Jesus Christ alone.
Many, who worship in a building, to Truth alone, are unyielding,
Building a church on tradition, God’s Truth, with man’s addition,
Added to the work finished by, Jesus Christ who reigns on high,
Ignoring His words “it is finished”, Grace by many is diminished.
Men making a way to Heaven, not by grace but religious leaven,
Building church in a human way, as they lead many souls astray,
As many souls weekly perch, in the pews of a manmade church,
Relying on their religious activity, to help them work into eternity.
“I will build my Church” He said, that was Christ, who is the Head,
Head of His True Church on earth, filled with souls, by New Birth,
All members being Born Again, into His Church, not one of men,
You’ll find, you no longer search, as a member of God’s Church.
Jesus is the Way, Truth and Life, as Head of the Church of Christ,
And each of us is a living stone, built through faith in Christ alone,
His Church He proceeds to build, to complete as His Father willed,
Leading the only True Church friend, as others shall see in the end.
Dropped Like a Hot Potato
I had the fear in me stopped.
Dropped like a hot potato.
I got tired of being unhappy.
And strapped with available nonsense,
On my back.
I've long asked God to deliver me from that.
I had the fear in me stopped.
Dropped like a hot potato.
Without one regret of being burned.
Or which emotion I dealt with it.
I was not going to allow it to sit.
And nourish on me as if a leech!
I've long asked God to deliver me from that.
I had been whipped into doubt and confusion.
No one had to tell me I was crazed.
I was in the affirmation stage.
I had the fear in me stopped.
And dropped like a hot potato.
And today...
Nothing gets dropped.
Since the fear in me stopped.
To let go of an experience,
That may be too precious to go wasted!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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A Coin Of Little Worth
I have seen and liked
silver coins stamped
in ancient Greece Rome
these usually carry the image
of supposedly great men
kings emperors face in profile
but their deeds were often
treacherous harsh cruel
wars these started for more
wealth slaves land to rule
my favourite coin
is a very small coin
tiny of little worth
that a woman with nothing
once gave at the temple
a very very long time ago
My Lord praised her
for giving all her livelihood
for giving more than
all gathered rich worshippers
combined because
proud rich gave a percentage
from all their amassed profit
a percentage calculated
based upon requirements of
law; but a poor woman gave
everything she had
based upon her own giving heart
it is written how Jesus sat down;
with the treasury chests in view
observing how the crowd dropped
money into the treasury chests;
many rich people were dropping in
many coins however a poor
widow woman dropped in only two
small coins which had very little value;
these coins became known as the widow's mite.
Jesus called his disciples and said to them
"Truly I say to YOU that this poor widow
dropped in more than all those dropping
money into the treasury chests; for they
all dropped in out of their surplus,
but she dropped in all of what
she had, her whole living." Mark 12: 41-44.
For the love of God.
poem by Terence George Craddock

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The Teachers Are Afraid Of The Pupils
Theres too many people
Planning your downfall
When your spirits on trial
These nights can be frightening
Sleep transports sadness
To some other mid-brain
And somebody here
Will not be here next year
So you stand by the board
Full of fear and intention
And, if you think that theyre listening
Well, youve got to be joking
Oh, you understand change
And you think its essential
But when your profession
Is humiliation
Say the wrong word to our children ...
Well have you, oh yes, well have you
Lay a hand on our children
And its never too late to have you
Mucus on your collar
A nail up through the staff chair
A blade in your soap
And you cry into your pillow
To be finished would be a relief
To be finished would be a relief
To be finished would be a relief
To be finished would be a relief
To be finished would be a relief
To be finished would be a relief
Say the wrong word to our children ...
Well have you, oh yes, well have you
Lay a hand on our children
And its never too late to have you
To be finished would be a relief
To be finished would be a relief
To be finished would be a relief
To be finished would be a relief
To be finished would be a relief
To be finished would be a relief
Im very glad the spring has come
The sun shines out so bright
All the birds that are on the trees
Are singing for delight
song performed by by Morrissey

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet: Choose The Things in Your Life
0 choose your friend who must be good as you;
And choose your spouse better than you; make sure;
And choose the one best as your Teacher too;
And choose ambitions that suit your nature.
0 choose the profession thats truly best;
And choose the hobbies that ne'er interfere;
And choose your Time to begin work, take rest;
And choose your enemies, you surely fear.
0 choose your food that gives extended health;
And choose your garments -comfortable wear;
And choose the honest way to added wealth;
And choose the burden right, body can bear.
0 choose the people who deserve help most;
And choose good principles, yet never boast.
poem by John Celes

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Small Doses
You'd think after fourty
Long days and nights
I'd finally get used to the rain
But until the storm passes
Outta my mind
The only thing I know
To take for the pain is..
Small, small doses,
A sip at a time
A little whiskey and water
I'll sit here all night
Some live with heartaches
But I'm killing mine
With small, small doses
A sip at a time.
My doctor said son
Aint a thing I can do
To help you get on with your life
So till I find a way
To forget about you
Me and your memory
Will have a big time.
Small, small doses,
A sip at a time
A little whiskey and water
I'll sit here all night
Some live with heartaches
But I'm killing mine
With small, small doses
A sip at a time.
With small, small doses,
A sip at a time
A little Jim Beam and water
I'll sit here all night
Some live with heartaches
But I'm killing mine
With small, small doses
A sip at a time.
With small, small doses
A sip at a time...
song performed by by Travis Tritt

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Man Or Machine
Auto, bus, walking and sweating dermis,
somehow on time I reach my office.
work needs to be finished on time so I sit infront of computer.
breakfast time, toast, butter and tea glass,
hurriedly I eat, unaware it may appear boorish and crass.
work needs to be finished on time so I sit infront of computer.
lunch time, dosa containing rice, dal and yeast,
the way I eat can put to shame any wild beast.
work needs to be finished on time so I sit infront of computer.
till evening, I am tired, drowsy and dozy
but I skip the plan to go outside to have some tea.
work needs to be finished on time so I sit infront of computer.
My head aches, my eye burns
but I continue work amidst yawns.
work needs to be finished on time so I sit infront of computer.
Just before logout, I work with great pace,
with time I contest, compete and race.
work needs to be finished on time so a computer sits infront of computer.
Copyright reserved by the author
poem by Md. Asadullah

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Once they're lost
Old books piled
every dusty room
notebooks scattered
on every stack.
Some full others not
just gathering poems
on pages most bad
a few worth typing.
Can't find half finished sonnet
start throwing
filled notebooks in boxes
as they fill
put in garage
a couple years before rereading.
Only then will half-finished poem
let itself be found,
muse playing games.
poem by David Howerton

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Can It Be Stopped
Can they can they dropp it.
Can it,
Be stopped.
Can they can they dropp it.
Can it,
Be stopped.
Can it be dropped.
Can it be stopped.
Hoodwinkers on the loose.
Hoodwinkers out to dupe too!
And...
Can they be stooped.
Crooked people after loot,
Proving they can low stoop.
But...
Can they can they dropp it.
Can they be stopped.
Can they can they dropp it.
Can they be stopped.
Hoodwinkers on the loose,
Stooping low as they choose.
Can they can they dropp it.
Can it,
Be stopped.
Can they can they dropp it.
Can it,
Be stopped.
Can they can they dropp it.
Can it,
Be stopped.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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What If I Do Not Have To Do Anything Anymore?
What if I do not have anything to do anymore?
What if I am finished?
I have written what I could write
I have gotten to where I can get
Not very far
But it was what I am capable of -
What if I am finished
And all I have to do is rest
And write small poems
Bad or good as they are
And not even these
For the rest of my life?
What if I can say to myself
I need not try anymore
Because I can do no more
And I am finished?
What if I am done
And can take relief from this
While still longing to do more
And dissatisfied with where I have not gotten?
poem by Shalom Freedman

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The men from the pans
In Brakpan at a time
lived a breaker
build very well
like a young Tarzan,
that kicked in shop windows
and caused amuck
to get a fight
with the police
and then hit
six or seven of them
into the hospital.
Till one day
that a small young policeman
gave him
a knock out punch
and his giant legs
folded in beneath him
and unconscious
he dropped to the ground
to open his eyes
in a cell.
When he got up
he hooked both of his thumbs
in his braces,
shook his head
and couldn’t understand
that such a small guy
could hit him off his feet
and though deep
about what to do
and decided then and there
to stop his wiles
poem by Gert Strydom

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The Cross Jesus Chose
Why on the cross did Jesus choose to die such a wicked death?
And why did He say, 'It is finished' as he breathed His final breath?
How was the temple curtain from the top to the bottom totally rent?
Was Christ the true Messiah whom the Prophets said would be sent?
God's righteous wrath on the cross was really meant for you and I,
But Christ took our punishment as His Father's anger was satisfied.
Not only on the cross did Christ die in the place of you and I,
But through His Blood on the cross, in God's eyes we are justified.
Christ cried, 'It is finished' as Salvation for all was now complete.
Returning to His Glory, at His Father's right hand, He took His Seat.
Yes that day was special, as after the curtain was rent it did fall,
Jesus Christ created total access to not only one nation, but to all.
The cross has been unequaled, as it was God's Grace that they saw,
For Christ was sent for all men, to be the fulfillment of the Law.
Yes, it was The Messiah on the cross, who suffered and truly died,
But the grave could not hold him, for in three days He rose Glorified.
God also gave us two examples that day and both were at his side,
One chose to believe in Jesus while the other just mocked and died.
You can choose to simply die my friend, but you'll suffer forevermore,
Or believe like the thief my friend and live eternally with The Lord.
(Copyright © 06/2002)
Passion governs
My mother dropped the glass.
My wife dropped the glass.
My servant dropped the glass
My child dropped the glass.
My sweetheart dropped the glass
I dropped the glass.
My reactions are different.
The depth of passion governs.
01.09.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar

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Choice of life
Human have a gift named a choice
Human have an illusion named a choice
There is no other creature that should decide more to live
Human have a hope called a choice
Human have despair called a choice
There is no other creature that trapped often in such continuous and repeat conflict
Some could turn good because one choice
Some could turn bad because one choice
All have the consequence but right or wrong will never be known before
Human have a wish for a choice
Human have regret for a choice
There is no other creature that always goes between happiness and sorrow
When a choice made not all may be satisfied
When a choice made not all may be rescued
But the change will never happened if we stay silent
Human have fate to choose
Human also choose their fate
The interaction of those things will create what people called the choice of life
poem by Maria Sudibyo

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Black Angel's Death Song
The myriad choices of his fate
Set themselves out upon a plate
For him to choose
What had he to lose
Not a ghost bloodied country
All covered with sleep
Where the black angel did weep
Not an old city street in the east
Gone to choose
And wandering's brother
Walked on through the night
With his hair in his face
On a long splintered cut from the knife of G.T.
The rally man's patter ran on through the dawn
Until we said so long
To his skull-shrill yell
Shining brightly red-rimmed and
Red-lined with the time
Infused with the choice of the mind
On ice skates scraping chunks
From the bells
Cut mouth bleeding razor's
Forgetting the pain
Antiseptic remains cool goodbye
So you fly
To the cozy brown snow of the east
Gone to choose, choose again
Sacrificials remains make it hard to forget
Where you come from
The stools of your eyes
Serve to realize fame, choose again
And roverman's refrain of the sacrilege recluse
For the loss of a horse
Went the bowels and a tail of a rat
Come again, choose to go
And if Epiphany's terror reduced you to shame
Have your head bobbed and weaved
Choose a side to be on
If the stone glances off
Split didactics in two
Leave the colors of the mouse trails
Don't scream, try between
If you choose, if you choose, try to lose
For the loss of remain come and start
Start the game I che che che che I
Che che ka tak koh
Choose to choose
Choose to choose, choose to go
song performed by by Velvet Underground

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Mother Never Know
my mother never know
after my father past away
I walk to campus through Malioboro without shoes
(only with sandals) to Campus
I embarasment to meet my friend
Every day I learn at the library and finished the next step
Not yet finished for preparing the future
With my stomag empty
When I hungry I only eat gado-gado, cassave and a glass of water
For entering my mother dreams
To become civil service after finished its
Like what my father do
Who never have opportunity to have a house for their children
Because I never have to the heart to cut my my dreams
Although my heart restlessness
poem by Prasetya Utama

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Pearls Of Wisdom
Every author that I know,
will at some time or other,
hand out a small pearl of wisdom,
in his or her work somewhere.
It does not matter in what genre
in which they choose to write
their pen will slip one day
and a small pearl of wisdom
will spill out and come our way.
We are all creatures of choice
and authors are no exception to the rule
in that once you have written one pearl
you can guarantee
more pearls will follow.
13 October 2009
poem by David Harris

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God's Will Can Not Be Frustrated
The Eternal will of Almighty God can not and will not be frustrated,
For only The Lord eternally existed long before anything He created.
God's perfect will is for all to come to The Lord Jesus and be saved,
However, many choose to live in darkness in a world that's depraved.
And these men choose to live their lives totally on their on accord.
For they have been given a freewill by a Gracious Sovereign Lord.
This same Grace, however, has been afforded to all men on the earth,
And some wisely choose to follow Jesus and experience a new birth.
Just as the fallen angels were cast out of The Lord's Holy presence,
In the end God's will is to completely dispel all of man's darkness.
Jesus Christ followed His Father's will to the cross where He died,
As He fulfilled God's will for you and I, it is finished was His cry.
His death accomplished redemption for all; for it's not just a story,
And after He purged the world of sin is now with His Father in Glory.
With Christ as our example, as He followed God's will to the cross,
We need to sacrifice our own lives daily, as we seek to win the lost.
And for all those who trample under foot the Grace of Almighty God,
Judgment is given to Jesus, when He returns with His Staff and Rod.
Only Judgment for unbelievers but Eternal Blessing for all those won,
God's total will shall be accomplished by Christ Jesus His only Son.
(Copyright © 04/2003)
The Black Angels Death Song
(reed, cale)
The myriad choices of his fate
Set themselves out upon a plate
For him to choose
What had he to lose
Not a ghost bloodied country
All covered with sleep
Where the black angel did weep
Not an old city street in the east
Gone to choose
And wanderings brother
Walked on through the night
With his hair in his face
On a long splintered cut from the knife of g.t.
The rally mans patter ran on through the dawn
Until we said so long
To his skull-shrill yell
Shining brightly red-rimmed and
Red-lined with the time
Infused with the choice of the mind
On ice skates scraping chunks
From the bells
Cut mouth bleeding razors
Forgetting the pain
Antiseptic remains cool goodbye
So you fly
To the cozy brown snow of the east
Gone to choose, choose again
Sacrificials remains make it hard to forget
Where you come from
The stools of your eyes
Serve to realize fame, choose again
And rovermans refrain of the sacrilege recluse
For the loss of a horse
Went the bowels and a tail of a rat
Come again, choose to go
And if epiphanys terror reduced you to shame
Have your head bobbed and weaved
Choose a side to be on
If the stone glances off
Split didactics in two
Leave the colors of the mouse trails
Dont scream, try between
If you choose, if you choose, try to lose
For the loss of remain come and start
Start the game I che che che che i
Che che ka tak koh
Choose to choose
Choose to choose, choose to go
song performed by by Velvet Underground

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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