Good And Evil!
every morning i awaken
in a manger surrounded
by wise men and cattle.
every afternoon i stand and jeer
as they nail his hands and feet
to the cross...
and every night i weep
at the distance i have travelled,
looking for the star
that i lost in the clouds!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
A Rusty Nail
I ran a nail into my hand,
The wound was hard to heal;
So bitter was the pain to stand
I thought how it would feel,
To have spikes thrust through hands and feet,
Impaled by hammer beat.
Then hoisted on a cross of oak
Against the sullen sky,
With all about the jeering follk
Who joyed to see me die;
Die hardly in insensate heat,
With bleeding hands and feet.
Yet was it not that day of Fate,
Of cruelty insane,
Climaxing centuries of hate
That woke our souls to pain!
And are we not the living seed
Of those who did the deed!
Of course, with thankful heart I know
We are not fiends as then;
And in a thousand years or so
We may be gentle men.
But it has cost a poisoned hand,
And pain beyond a cry,
To make me strangely understand
A Cross against the sky.
poem by Robert William Service
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Praying Hands
I had a dream with my lord CHRIST
He touched my head, not once but twice.
I felt my body jump up in bed
I saw the nail holes in his hands that bled.
I felt the power of his healing hands
He showed it to me so I could understand.
With faith in our hearts he will heal
And his hands you will feel.
I awoke that morning with the spirit inside
Those praying hands I had to find.
I found a figurine of his hands
And put it upon my night stand.
In my prayers that I say day and night
I squeeze those hands with all my might.
Now when I feel life s pressures are getting me down
I touch those hands that I had found.
And when I feel an ailment or two
Then I know what I must do.
I touch those hands and say a prayer
This is the bond that we share.
There is no other feeling like the love of GOD
When you have him in your heart.
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep
Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there. I did not die.
poem by Mary Elizabeth Frye
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Away In A Manger (Hide Your Love Away)
==================
Away in a Manger
==================
Away in a manger, no crib for his bed,
the little Lord Jesus laid down his sweet head.
The stars in the bright sky looked down where he lay,
The little Lord Jesus asleep on the hay.
The cattle are lowing, the baby awakes,
but little Lord Jesus no crying he makes.
I love thee, Lord Jesus! Look down from the sky,
And stay by my side until morning is nigh.
song performed by by Beatles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Stomp Your Hands, Clap Your Feet
Whoa!
Woo-woo yeah
Turn it up until it bangs your head
Tear it down now mother don't play dead
People stand the noise
All the little toys
Put some more coke on the fire
Stomp your hands
Clap your feet
Stomp your hands
To the beat
Stomp your hands
Clap your feet
Stomp your hands
To the beat
Mixed up kids lookin' for that night
They're getting higher everything in sight, well alright
The music's pretty loud
Someone in the crowd
Think they're gonna cause us a riot
Whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh
Stomp your hands
Clap your feet
Stomp your hands
To the beat, oh
Stomp your hands
Clap your feet
Stomp your hands
To the beat
Rock on, rock on, rock on
Yow!
How how how how how
Whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh
(Whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh)
Whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh
(Whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh)
(Whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh)
Whoa-oh-oh-oh ho ho ho
Stomp your hands
Clap those feet, yeah
Stomp your hands
To the beat
C'mon boys
Stomp your hands
Clap your feet
Whoa-whoa, all night, yeah, yeah, yeah
Stomp your hands
(Oh whoa oh oh)
Clap your feet
Whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh
Stomp your hands
Clap your feet
Stomp your hands
To the beat
All night long
Stomp your hands
(Everybody)
Clap your feet
(Everybody stomp your hands to the beat in the heat yeah yeah yeah yeah woo!)
Stomp your hands
(Oh!)
Clap your feet
(Oh whoa whoa whoa whoa, rock all night, yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah)
Oh yeah
Stomp your hands
(Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah)
Clap your feet
(My my my, my my my my my my, my, my, m
song performed by by Quiet Riot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Twentyfour Hours
Morning skies of blue,
morning drops of dew,
some overhead,
some beneath my feet,
They both come into view.
Afternoon sun so bright,
afternoon heat so white,
some on my skin
how I feel it burn.
It makes me welcome the night.
Evening sounds I hear,
evening sounds appear
when all is quiet,
no noise of the day
is there to interfere.
Peaceful dark of night,
peaceful with no light.
Nothing overhead
tucked up in my bed,
I've nothing but dreams in my sight.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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On the Dawn of Christ's Nativity [sonnet]
This starry dawn – the wise men yet afar –
the shepherds are abed, their night’s task done.
Is Mary tired? Or, as one untouched?
All birth’s a miracle; no less this one.
The cattle have bestirred at hint of morn,
the thought of feeding making moist their muzzle;
straw is rustling as they, manger-drawn,
find unfamiliar form – so warm – to nuzzle.
What were the first words Joseph softly said
to Mary, as dawn broke, this day of days?
And who, sent from the inn to cattle-shed,
to feed and lay fresh straw, fell still in praise?
How long, this morn, before the murmured sound
of voices in the street, as Word gets round?
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet on the Morning of Christ's Birth
This starry dawn – the wise men yet afar –
the shepherds are abed, their night’s task done.
Is Mary tired? Or, as one untouched?
All birth’s a miracle; no less this one.
The cattle have bestirred at hint of morn,
the thought of feeding making moist their muzzle;
straw is rustling as they, manger-drawn,
find unfamiliar form – so warm – to nuzzle.
What were the first words Joseph softly said
to Mary, as dawn broke, this day of days?
And who, sent from the inn to cattle-shed,
to feed and lay fresh straw, fell still in praise?
How long, this morn, before the murmured sound
of voices in the street, as Word gets round?
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Dawn of Christ's Nativity [sonnet]
This starry dawn – the wise men yet afar –
the shepherds are abed, their night’s task done.
Is Mary tired? Or, as one untouched?
All birth’s a miracle; no less this one.
The cattle have bestirred at hint of morn,
the thought of feeding making moist their muzzle;
straw is rustling as they, manger-drawn,
find unfamiliar form – so warm – to nuzzle.
What were the first words Joseph softly said
to Mary, as dawn broke, this day of days?
And who, sent from the inn to cattle-shed,
to feed and lay fresh straw, fell still in praise?
How long, this morn, before the murmured sound
of voices in the street, as Word gets round?
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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On the Morning of Christ's Nativity
This starry dawn - the wise men yet afar -
the shepherds are abed, their night's task done.
Is Mary tired? Or, as one untouched?
All birth's a miracle; not less this one.
The cattle have bestirred at hint of morn,
the thought of feeding making moist their muzzle;
straw is rustling, as they, manger-drawn,
find unfamiliar form- so warm - to nuzzle.
What were the first words Joseph softly said
to Mary, as dawn broke, this day of days?
And who, sent from the inn to cattle-shed
to feed and lay fresh straw, fell still in praise?
How long, this morn, before the murmured sound
of voices in the street, as Word gets round?
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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0039 On the Morning of Christ's Nativity
This starry dawn - the wise men yet afar -
the shepherds are abed, their night's task done.
Is Mary tired? Or, as one untouched?
All birth's a miracle; not less this one.
The cattle have bestirred at hint of morn,
the thought of feeding making moist their muzzle;
straw is rustling, as they, manger-drawn,
find unfamiliar form- so warm - to nuzzle.
What were the first words Joseph softly said
to Mary, as dawn broke, this day of days?
And who, sent from the inn to cattle-shed
to feed and lay fresh straw, fell still in praise?
How long, this morn, before the murmured sound
of voices in the street, as Word gets round?
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Iron Cross
THEY pass, with heavy eyes and hair,
Before the Christ upon the Cross,
The Nations, stricken with their loss,
And lifting faces of despair.
What is the prayer they pray to Him,
Christ Jesus on the Iron Cross?
The Christ, neglected, dark with moss,
Whose hands are pierced, whose face is grim.
Is it forgiveness for great sin
They plead before the Iron Cross?
Or for some gift of gold or dross?
Or battle lost, that they would win?
With eyes where hate and horror meet,
They pass before the Iron Cross,
The Cross, that ancient words emboss,
Where hangs the Christ with nail-pierced feet.
His hair is fallen on his face.
His head hangs sidewise from the Cross —
The Crucified, who knows all loss,
And had on Earth no resting place.
'O world of men,' he seems to say,
'Behold me on your Iron Cross!
To me why kneel and tell your loss?
Why kneel to me and weep and pray?
'Have I not taught you to forgive?
And bade you from my Iron Cross
Believe, and bear your grief and loss,
That after death you too may live?
'You have not followed at my call!
You keep me on this Iron Cross,
And pray me keep you from all loss,
And save and comfort you withal.—
'You ask for love, and hate the more! —
You keep me on this Iron Cross!—
Restore to me my greater loss,
The brotherhood of rich and poor.'
They pass, with weary eyes and hair,
Before the Christ upon the Cross —
The Nations, wailing of their loss,
And lifting faces of despair.
poem by Madison Julius Cawein
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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0031 Dawn in Bethlehem on the Morning of Christ's Nativity
This starry dawn - the wise men yet afar -
the shepherds are abed, their night's task done.
Is Mary tired? Or, as one untouched?
All birth's a miracle; not less this one.
The cattle have bestirred at hint of morn,
the thought of feeding making moist their muzzle;
straw is rustling, as they, manger-drawn,
find unfamiliar form- so warm - to nuzzle.
What were the first words Joseph softly said
to Mary, as dawn broke, this day of days?
And who, sent from the inn to cattle-shed
to feed and lay fresh straw, fell still in praise?
How long, this morn, before the murmured sound
of voices in the street, as Word gets round?
(revisited)
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tooth And Nail
I'm tired of all this cheap talk
When you walk next to me
They say I ain't good enough for you
Why don't they come and tell me
When they see us out in the night
They can't wait to tear us apart
Now I hear them saying lovin' you ain't right
Well they'd better be ready 'cause honey I'll be there
I will fight tooth and nail
Count on me, I will not fail you
I will fight tooth and nail
They say I'm always breaking promises
And I'm just fooling with you
Then they try and come between the two of us
Man, that's a bad thing to do
I can say I had more than enough
But I ain't gonna take it too hard
I said hey, they want to play rough
Well let's see who backs down when the trouble starts
I will fight tooth and nail
Count on me, I will not fail you
I will fight tooth and nail
Come on try me, I won't give in
They take advantage, but they can't win
I'll be your man, baby, wait and see
Ain't nobody, nobody take your love from me
I will fight tooth and nail
I was wrong, I will not fail you
I will fight tooth and nail
I'll be your man, baby, wait and see
Ain't nobody, nowhere take your love away from me
I will fight tooth and nail
Count on me, I will not fail you
I will fight tooth and nail
Right now, tooth and nail
I am waiting for the fight
Tooth and nail
Right now, c'mon, tooth and nail
Right now, tooth and nail
C'mon, tooth and nail
Ah fight
Tooth and nail
Right now, c'mon, tooth and nail
C'mon, right now, tooth and nail
song performed by by Foreigner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Afternoon Tea
Tea time wont be the same without my donna
At night I lie awake and dream of donna
I think about that small cafe
Thats where we used to meet each day
And then we used to sit a while
And drink our afternoon tea
Ill take afternoon tea (afternoon tea)
If you take it with me (afternoon tea)
You take as long as you like
cause I like you, girl
I take sugar with tea (afternoon tea)
You take milk if you please (afternoon tea)
Like you talking to me
Because you ease my mind
Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba (afternoon tea)
Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba (afternoon tea)
Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba (afternoon tea)
Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba (afternoon tea)
Tea time still aint the same without my donna
At night I lie awake and dream of donna
I went to our cafe one day
They said that donna walked away
Youd think at least she might have stayed
To drink her afternoon tea
Ill take afternoon tea (afternoon tea)
If you take it with me (afternoon tea)
You take as long as you like
cause I like you, girl
I take afternoon tea (afternoon tea)
Every day of the week (afternoon tea)
Please come along if you like
Because I like you, girl
Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba (afternoon tea)
Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba (afternoon tea)
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Away In A Manger
(Arrangement: George Strait)
Away in a manger
No crib for a bed
The little lord Jesus laid down his sweet head
The stars in the sky look donw where he lay
The little Lord Jesus asleep on the hay
The cattle all glory the baby awakes
Buy little Lord Jesus no crying he makes
I love the Lord Jesus look down from the sky
And stay by my cradle till morning is night
Away in a manger
No crib for a bed
The little lord Jesus laid down his sweet head
The stars in the sky look donw where he lay
The little Lord Jesus asleep on the hay
song performed by by George Strait
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Carpenter
With a nail in your right hand,
and a nail in your left hand,
and a nail or two to keep your feet in place...
up there on that cross - - -
I am just guessing that you are not here
to fix the roof!
He is not directing traffic like that - - -
and, yes, I know, that it is hot today - - -
... But, a loin cloth?
I am guessing that that is not tomato sauce,
and even I could pick a better hat than that!
You could use a haircut and a shave, by the way!
I don't mean to misbehave - - -
but, you must admit - - - this is a little unexpected!
BUT - - - You did say, you would be back!
Although your mothers image is on the odd potato chip,
or on a cement wall under a Chicago train bridge...
or on a grilled cheese sandwich, according to believers,
I tend to think that that's not what you meant by ' Faith '.
poem by Barry Van Allen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Away In A Manger
Away in a manger no crib for a bed
The little Lord Jesus lay down his sweet head
The stars in the bright sky look down where he lay
The little Lord Jesus asleep on the hay
The cattle are lowing the baby awakes
The little Lord Jesus no crying he makes
I love the Lord Jesus look down from the sky
And stay by my cradle 'till morning is night
Away in a manger no crib for a bed
The little Lord Jesus lay down his sweet head
The stars in the bright sky look down where he lay
The little Lord Jesus asleep on the hay
The little Lord Jesus asleep
on the hay (hay)
song performed by by Kenny Chesney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Away In The Manger
Away in the manger no crib for his bed.
The little lord jesus
Laid down his sweet head.
The stars in the sky
Look down where he lay,
The little lord jesus
Asleep on the hay.
The cattle are lowing
The poor baby wakes,
But little lord jesus,
No crying he makes.
I love thee, lord jesus;
Look down from the sky,
And stay by my cradle,
Till morning is night.
song performed by by Reba Mcentire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Eulogy for a veteran
Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow
I am the diamond glint of snow
I am the sunlight on ripened grain
I am the gentle autumn rain
When you awaken in the mornings hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
of quiet birds in circled flight
I am the soft stars that shine at night
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there, I DID NOT DIE
poem by Anonymous Americas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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