For A Holy Moment!
i am an old man,
with a book of scriptures,
written in blood,
and an erection,
walking towards eternity,
looking for a holy moment!
a candle willing
to be burned down,
a leaf letting go
of the tree!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Speak With Kindness (Or Do Not Speak At All)
speak with kindness,
or do not speak at all.
speak not of judgement,
you are not the judge.
speak not of salvation,
let your living be your scriptures.
speak not of scriptures,
let your actions be your holy book.
speak not as apostle or teacher,
speak as a human being.
speak not of god,
then god will speak through you!
speak not as a man,
for you are woman too.
speak not with hateful malice,
for love does not work that way.
speak not as a prophet or seer,
speak as compassion made flesh.
speak not of morality,
speak of connection.
speak not of authority,
the tree and the leaf have just as much.
speak not of holiness,
for all that lives be holy.
speak with kindness...
or do not speak at all!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Meet Me In The Indian Summer
(Van Morrison)
Well don't you know
How much I love you
Don't you know
How much I care
It's beyond my comprehension
'Cos I love you on the square
It's not bound by any definition
It isn't written in the stars
It's not limited like Saturn
Isn't ruled by Mercury or Mars
Oh won't you meet me
In the Indian summer
Where we'll go walking
Down by the weeping willow tree
Won't you meet me
In the Indian summer
We'll go walking to eternity
It's not modelled by convention
It isn't worshipped like the sun
It's not likened unto any other
And it will never come undone
Well don't you know
That my world is so lonely
Just like a freight train in the dawn
That's why I need to
Have and hold you
Just to keep me from going wrong
Oh won't you meet me
In the Indian summer
We'll go walking
By the weeping willow tree
Won't you meet me Lord
In the Indian summer
We'll go walking to eternity
Won't you meet me
In the Indian summer
Well before
Those chilly winds do blow
Won't you meet me
In the Indian summer
Take me way back
To what I know
Oh won't you meet me
In the Indian summer
We'll go walking
By the weeping willow tree
Oh won't you meet me
In the Indian summer
We'll go walking to eternity
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What's Your Name?
while walking...
i stopped beneath a tree,
and spoke to a leaf:
'what's your name? '
the leaf paused for a moment,
and spoke,
'you can call me child of the limb,
or child of the tree,
or child of the earth,
or child of the sun and rain...
or you can just call me, Bob!
what's your name? '
i thought for a moment,
and smiled:
'you can just call me...
.....leaf! '
poem by Eric Cockrell
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If You Need Scriptures....
if you need scriptures,
read the scriptures written
on the walls of your soul!
read the scriptures written
in trees, in rocks, in rivers.
read the scriptures written
in the broken alley.
in the homeless man's eyes,
in the addict's desperation,
in the shuffle of jobless feet.
in the cry of the newborn baby,
in the lovers moan of fulfillment,
the scriptures written
in the sweet darkness of night,
in the jail cell,
in the picket line,
in the monk who sets himself
on fire for freedom and justice,
in all the colors of equality...
in the hungry child's hand reaching out...
read them, know them, be them!
life testifies to the living!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Winter Night
It snowed and snowed ,the whole world over,
Snow swept the world from end to end.
A candle burned on the table;
A candle burned.
As during summer midges swarm
To beat their wings against a flame
Out in the yard the snowflakes swarmed
To beat against the window pane
The blizzard sculptured on the glass
Designs of arrows and of whorls.
A candle burned on the table;
A candle burned.
Distorted shadows fell
Upon the lighted ceiling:
Shadows of crossed arms,of crossed legs-
Of crossed destiny.
Two tiny shoes fell to the floor
And thudded.
A candle on a nightstand shed wax tears
Upon a dress.
All things vanished within
The snowy murk-white,hoary.
A candle burned on the table;
A candle burned.
A corner draft fluttered the flame
And the white fever of temptation
Upswept its angel wings that cast
A cruciform shadow
It snowed hard throughout the month
Of February, and almost constantly
A candle burned on the table;
A candle burned.
poem by Boris Pasternak
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Lonely Leaf
Lonely leaf
trembles
at the feeble moment
It's on the verge of falling
It's about to merge with limitless nature!
Air is guest to leaf once
now will become constant companion
Bond with tree
soon will be abandoned
The moment came
parting is always pain
fighting against time is invain
finally tree says farewell to the leaf
Now leaf realises boundless 'freedom'
It's floating like free bird
It is 'gone with the wind'
Leaf lost it's green colour
wearing pale colour
Colour hardly matters!
Leaf sings song of freedom
Bond with tree is bound
Feeling freedom is ecstasy abound
poem by Mula Veereswara Rao
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The Cup Of Communion
that which we long for most...
the cup of communion!
naked souls sharing thoughts
on the bridge to eternity.
with all baggage left behind,
nothing left but feet and desire.
underneath the banner of doubt,
we find long awaited faith.
compadres walking side by side,
if just for a forever moment.
evolving and dissolving
into the grain of another.
lost children sharing lostness,
find home in a holy instant.
and leaving particles
of dust and self,
are strengthened for the journey.
candle wax, and human blood!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Candle Song
Written by ugly kid joe
Pray by the candle and I hope to see light
Wait for the moment but its never right
So now Im sailing on the oceans so wide
Im all alone, me and my daydreams and i
Pray by the candle and I hope to see light
Wait for the moment but its never right
So Im the captain my ships got a hole in the side
Im all alone, me and my daydreams at night
Can you see me walking through the trees
Can you hear me laughing in the breeze
Can you see me walking through the trees
Can you hear me laughing in the breeze
Pray by the candle and I hope to see light
Wait for the moment but its never right
Across the water I watch my ship waves goodbye
Im all alone me and my daydreams at night
song performed by by Ugly Kid Joe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sound Of The Beating Heart!
we spend lifetimes searching
for the sound the leaf makes
turning from green to orange to red...
we spend our loving burning branches
in the shadow of the tree.
we spend our faith trying to capture,
and hold the wind for a moment...
never knowing that what we search for
is only our own being!
we are the leaf, the branches, the fire,
the tree, and the wind...
the sound, the loving, and the faith.
and yet we are nothing.
we are but a moment,
familiar taste and scent.
we are eternity,
the breath of an unknown god.
the sun has set,
stillness comes walking
across the mountains.
i listen for the voices
that have no face.
dead poets sit by a vagrant fire,
immigrants, refugees...
spinning old tales.
my friends smell like trees,
and leaves turned brown.
we cross bridges unseen,
with no destination.
and the only sound
that even god can hear...
the sound of the beating heart!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Noted By All
The truth,
Written by the Inspired Prophets of Yahweh!
And, you can find the truth in the Holy Scriptures.
The truth,
All together,
In your Scriptures,
Closer to you;
But, you are now being led by Satan! !
And, your ways are noted by all.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Elegy On The Death Of A Church Mouse
‘Colonel Gaddafi is dead; long live Gaddafi’,
- whose words those are?
don’t shoot, don’t shoot,
enough blood is spilled!
Gaddafi,
a leaf from the tree is dead;
leaf sprouts, leaf eats, leaf sleeps in the sky,
leaf waves the world in the cheer of palm,
makes no sand out of storm,
no beating themselves by the horse drain,
no hanging noose by the cock’s strain.
Leaf feeds the tree with green
when upon it’s tender face, the horrid-sun shine,
leaf, bearer of flower, bearer of seed,
never the taster of the sap from earth
till drops dead in the paleness of red,
‘don't shoot, don't shoot,
upon the sand is blood,
for the Colonel is dead’,
said, the tree,
and said, ‘Long live Gaddafi!
poem by Saranyan Bee
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The Book, Trees and Leaves
The book
at the used book store
had a leaf pressed between its pages,
its veins showing;
pressed flat
and brown;
an unwilling bookmark-
the pages of the ages.
The tree
its mother,
died for those pages
her offspring
flattened out
upon mother's page breast
tiny lines and squiggles
between the veins;
no tree can read
no leaf can comprehend.
I take the leaf to give it a proper burial
in the compost heap
so that its remains
have a small chance
of one day
becoming part of a tree.
I lay its leafy body down
thinking;
'I think I shall never see
anything a lovely as a tree.'
In years
a bookmark it will make
upon my backyard landscape
marking Nature's Chapter entitled
'Ironies.'
.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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The Flask of Time
There is a single leaf flying
in this my autumn gloaming,
a leaf fluttering light
as if being orchestrated
by your words in flight
rushing to my inner ear;
'I have fallen in love
with another you said.'
My leaf stammered,
swaying in its downward flight
unable to remount the tree,
terrified to crash the ground
suspended forever there
as was also true of your words;
better to not reach my inner ear
better to not have my leaf touch down dead.
Between us all these years
neither war, nor peace;
we existed in the troubled middle ground
purgatoried, unsensed, fluttering, leaf bound
frozen between tree and ground.
Now you have burned our tree down-
lit the leaf and made it flame-
and pulled from under us the very ground.
No matter the dead leaves, the burning tree
no matter the absent ground
these things will
in turn return
for the seasons never-end.
Therefore, I shall take my sip of sorrow
sipped slowly from my Flask of Time
and await
the Spring.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Candle of Love
He was the fire...the fire to my burning candle
When I first recieved him he lit up my life
His flame burned vibrantly, it burned with care, and
it burned forever
Now that fire that once burned for me won't even
spark for me
Maybe its old, maybe I'm not lighting it right..or
maybe his flame is tired of my candle
poem by Octavia Tisdale
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A New leaf
There’s a new leaf upon the Tree
A thousand, thousand have been before
In the life of this great tree
Yet, the Tree rejoices, and is glad
For there is a New Leaf upon the tree
The roots are deep, and hidden
Tis one tree from root to branch
And lives in and through each leaf
The hearts’ smile resurrected
Through the New leaf upon the tree
Like the stars of heaven
New leaves have been many
And so they all are One
For they all share the same root
Bless the New leaf upon the tree
Perfection in the Blessing
Joy released in tears of love
The strength in life will comfort
From root to God above
A New leaf upon the tree
Beauty, Truth, and life
Complete from root to branch
When life’s cycle turns
Leaves fall to nourish roots
And behold, a New leaf upon the tree
poem by Adrian Wait
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The Book
My life is a leaf
Bind together in a book
Written
With sweat and blood
Pages after pages
With the taste of Pain and joy
Every emotion
Big or small
Fully charged
Packed and sealed
Every incident
Recoded in details
For the experience
Good or bad
If you want to learn
Whether there is any love
For you and mankind
You just need to turn
The page number twenty one
Chapter after chapter
Written with mixture
Of success and failure
If any one
Written badly
And Tastes sour
It is my life
Full of blood and flesh
Please pass on to another
poem by Abdul Wahab
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0240 The Poet and the Tree
Tenderly
under the tree's shade
the poet wrote;
wishing
that his poems
might have the grace
of the tree.
the tree heard
the poet's wish
and gave itself,
to share his book
leaf for leaf
for as long
as his poems lived
and so it was
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Judgement, And Holiness
you who would judge
from atop your virginal towers
of self assurance
who speak with the voice
of the god that your money bought,
your god of wars.
with swords of glass,
and the vengeance of
prejudicial morality
save your breath!
the lie exposes itself.
eternity doesnt stand trial
in small minded courts.
'no difference between the
sacred and the profane'
a holy man once spoke.
i proclaim every moment,
every slice of life, to be holy!
whether scriptures, a new born child,
or a mound of cow dung.
every thing that can be touched,
can be felt, can be given
is equal in holiness.
every breath of being
is a gift!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Tree Of Dreams
My mind is a tree of growing dreams
It seems like it produces more each day
But with every day that passes
There is also a forgotten one
When you add all the forgotten ones
you get a tree that is dry
A tree with many rings
but with one leaf
One green leaf that appears
every day but also dries up
when the next day comes
When a tree only has one leaf
no one really looks at it
It is a tree with no ambition
A tree with only one dream
No one wants a tree with one dream
especially if it is never fulfilled
poem by Cokbod Lodwogo
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Here I Come-4
Holy holy is He
So merciful
Lion and King
Wonderful Counselor
Holy holy
Holy holy is He
Holy holy is He
Forever holy.
Most High God
Holy holy
Prince of Peace
Mighty Redeemer
King of Kings
Most High God
Holy holy
Holy holy is He
Holy holy is He
Forever holy.
Take my sins
As far as the east
Is from the west
Purge me
With your precious blood
Shelter me
From the storms
Cover me
With your glory
Holy holy
Holy holy is He
Holy holy is He
Forever holy.
You are so holy
You went to the cross
For me
So holy
You bled for me
So holy
You paid a price
I could not pay
Holy holy
Holy holy is He
Holy holy is He
Forever holy.
poem by Buxton Shippy
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