Once on a hill
From His anguish the sun fled
the sky was dark as if shaded
and just before life completely left Him
He said to forgive them,
who do not know what they are doing
and this He talked about them
who had spit upon Him, mocked Him,
in nakedness degraded Him
and was glad to nail
an innocent very good man
to a piece of wood
in order to kill him
and still I wonder when
they realised if at all,
that they had killed
the creator God Himself
and inhuman, had lashed out
in great hatred
to one who loved selflessly?
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Survival
In the dark shaded border
World turns upside down
Though everything’s in order
And black is never brown!
Supposedly in order
But really in mess
The dark shaded border
Never shows its true face!
Mischief is a fun, lies sacred
Throats are slit for a small chunk of bread
It’s a savage race, the stakes are too close
Friends this moment turn into foes!
In the dark shaded border
Disorderliness is order
Money and muscle thrive
In a blind zeal to survive!
poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
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Through The Wood
THROUGH the wood, the green wood, the wet wood, the light wood,
Love and I went maying a thousand lives ago;
Shafts of golden sunlight had made a golden bright wood
In my heart reflected, because I loved you so.
Through the wood, the chill wood, the brown wood, the bare wood,
I alone went lonely no later than last year,
What had thinned the branches, and wrecked my dear and fair wood,
Killed the pale wild roses and left the rose-thorns sere?
Through the wood, the dead wood, the sad wood, the lone wood,
Winds of winter shiver through lichens old and grey,
You ride past forgetting the wood that was our own wood
All our own--and withered as ever a flower of May.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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A Poem For A Friend Dying of Cancer
I forgive you, Lord, for all your cruelty
And the way you really had it in for me,
The way you let them break my heart,
The way they tore my happiness apart.
I forgive you, Lord, but I don't see why
I should honour you because you chose to die,
I hate the way you've crucified my friends
Proclaiming that your Great Love nrver ends!
I forgive you, Lord, for all the suffering
That you allowed, and how you didn't bring
Relief for friends who lay there in their pain,
I forgive you, Lord, perhaps you are insane!
I forgive you, Lord, you really make me sick,
Your clever words are just a cunning trick,
Why don't you save my friend who's going to die,
She's only 31, and you won't tell me why.
I don't forgive you, Lord, the end has come
For a Creator who's both deaf and dumb,
I hate you now for all eternity,
And the reason for my hatred is obvious to see.
poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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Sonnet: Forgive Them God, Lord
Forgive them God, they know not what they do;
Forgive them Lord, they know not what they say;
Forgive them God, they are my siblings too;
Forgive them Lord, they seem just bad today!
Forgive them God, they were all born with me;
Forgive them Lord, they suffered really;
Forgive them God; they were so good truly;
Forgive them Lord, they have done their duty!
Forgive them God, the tempter has them prey;
Forgive them Lord, they were so sad most days;
Federal been God and send your guardian fay;
Forgive them Lord, they have innocent face!
Forgive them God; I’ll pray for them instead;
Forgive them Lord; better You strike me dead!
28-5-2001 Perundurai, ERODE. T.N. INDIA
poem by John Celes
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Forgive you
Forgive you
It is not hard to forgive you
Transparent heart, i know who are you
It is okay to forgive you
Need no reason, just forgive you
Pains u gave me, smiles i give you
Hates can stab me, please not to you
You innocent in the eyes of anger
Truth will be seen a bit longer
Never mind how deep you cut my skin
Never mind how bloody heart i felt in
I just can't hate you
Everything u do, forgive you
I need to save you from dark
So just give me all your pain
Cleanse your suffering marks
I'll wipe away your trouble not to stain
Then, when a chance came to me
Finally i have to leave you
Doesn't mean grudge buried me
But no chance to tell you
When truth comes tell everything
Don't feel regret or bad feeling
I told you, i forgive you
But now forgive me for leaving you
Only one thing i want you always do
Smile as sincere u can do
We still friend, promise you, i do..
Forgave you, now Forgive me
: : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : Theme: Forgiveness: : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : :
the inspiration by people and imagination Don't shy to say
sorry, don't feel difficult to forgive..the ego only kill the
beauty of life In everything we do, don't let emotion enclose intuition
................................ ................................................. .......
poem by Unwritten Soul
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To a Friend
I sighed:
He died.
He had a million dollar job,
I sobbed.
He had tenure.
He had good pasture.
Oh! my God.
Oh! Great God.
He died.
He was a good man,
A special person
That you can
Easily be a great fan
Of.
He showed a lot of love
When you talked to this
Son
Of a gun.
He was a fun
Guy. You could talk
And walk with him
After the A.C. Convention.
I always had a special vision
Of him.
Because he was different,
He was a great family man.
Good health
Is more important
Than great wealth.
Money is there to be spent
And money cannot buy heaven
And the eternal life.
He had a great wife.
A great job,
I sobbed.
I sighed,
He died
Abruptly,
Suddenly
Without saying good bye.
He had everything,
Except one thing:
Eternity.
This is a pity!
He left eveything behind.
He was a man of a great mind,
He left with that too.
He was among a few
Good gentlemen left on this planet,
He disappeared in the sunset.
The world will forever miss this good man.
He was not a good friend,
Nevertheless, he was a friend,
A brother and a gentleman.
Copyright 2008 Hebert Logerie
Author of the poetry book 'Sparkles of Love' and Etincelles de l'Amour
Hébert Logerie is the author of “Mounts And Valleys of Love”
https: //www2.xlibris.com/bookstore/bookdisplay.aspx? bookid=58359
PLEASE ORDER AT [email protected] OR CALL 1-866-957-5010!
poem by Hebert Logerie
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All The Love I Ever Had
Key c all the love I ever had written and recorded by hank williams
(c) one time you know I (g7) loved you (c) true,
There was (g7) nothing I wouldnt (c) do,
But you have treated me so (f) bad,
You killed (c) all the (g7) love I ever (c) had.
You leave me alone and run around,
You were the talk of the town,
It made you glad to see me sad,
You killed all the love I ever had.
No one knows the torture I went through,
Loving you and knowing you were untrue,
Its over now and Im so glad,
You killed all the love I ever had.
All these years Ive set and cried,
A thousand times my poor soul died,
You have treated me so bad,
You killed all the love I ever had.
song performed by by Hank Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The One God
A God of mercy
A God of kindness
A God who Is Love
He Is my own
A God so magnificent
A God of graciousness
The Holy One
Who walketh In Righteousness
Thank You for the privilege
Of seeing Your creation
Everyday I live to glorify You
Cos everyday is a gift from You
A God who gave His Son
A God who is concerned about every detail of my life
A God who loves my family
A God who is always there for me...
My Father In Heaven
He Is the One
The Creator of the glorious Angels
The Creator of the beautiful flowers
The Creator of the oceans and seas
The Creator of the lovely hills
The Creator of all precious creatures
The Creator of me
The Only True God
And there is none other than Him
All knowing
All Powerful
Declaring the end from the beginning
How Great Thou Art
Master of the winds
Calmer of the storms
Healer of the sick
Provider for the needy
Sustainer of the widow
Father of the orphan
The Great I Am That I Am
His Name Is JEHOVAH
The creator of the heavens and earth
I worship You through Your Son
Jesus Christ
Who gave His Life
To give me Life
All because You loved me
Thanks, Glory and Honour be to You
Through Christ Your Son, Our Lord, Amen..
poem by Ifeanyi Eze
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Spit It Out
If theres rage inside you so you cannot think
Spit it out
If you get so angry that you cannot speak
Spit it out
Talk to him or her or it
And tell them where they can put it
Spit it out, spit it out
You got to talk to him or her or it
And take aim with your mouth and spit
Spit it out, spit it out
If you get worked over at your job
Spit it out
If a taxi almost runs you down
Spit it out
You got to take aim with your mouth and speak
And give it to them right between the teeth
Spit it out, spit it out
Talk to him or her or it
And take aim with your mouth and spit
Spit it out, spit it out
Spit it out
Hey, hey, hey
If youre patient and you have the time
Spit it out
Wait till theyre on the decline
Spit it out
The chinese say you meet the hard with the soft
The yin with the yang, the down with the up, oh
Spit it out, spit it out
You got to grab that dumb he, she or it
And give it to them right between the teeth
Spit it out, spit it out
Spit it out, babe, spit it out
Hey
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What A Day
A piece of mail
A letter head
A piece of hair
From a human head
Theyre sayin to me
I shouldve killed it
I shouldve killed it
I shouldve killed it before
Youre right, youre right
Kill the body and the head will die
Theyre laughin at me
I shouldve learned it
I shouldve learned it
I shouldve learned it before
-what a day, what a day
If you can look it in the face
And hold your vomit
A wet sneeze and a no left turn
A row of teeth and an encouraging word
Beneath a mile of skin
I shouldve noticed it
I shouldve noticed it
I shouldve noticed it before
What a day
What a day
What a day
Dont you touch it
song performed by by Faith No More
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Playmates
It's sixty years ago, the people say:
Two village children, neighbours born and bred,
One morning played beneath a rotten tree
That came down crash and caught them as they fled;
And one was killed and one was left unhurt
Except for certain fancies in his head.
And though it's all so very long ago
He's never left the wood a single day;
I've often met him peeping through the leaves
And chuckling to himself, an old man grey;
And once he started in his cracked old voice:
'We're playing I'm a merchant lost his way,
She's robbers in the wood behind yon tree,
The minute we grow up too big to play' -
poem by Ralph Hodgson
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God Has Mocked At Us
GOD HAS MOCKED AT US
God has mocked at us -
Made us so great to ourselves
Made us the center of our worlds
Made us feel as if we are what truly matters-
God has mocked at us -
And taught us how small we really are-
Has made us know the paradox-
Of our being central only to ourselves –
God has mocked at us and exalted us
And enabled us to attribute to God
Our own reservations about ourselves-
God has mocked at us
Do we in mocking ourselves mock God also?
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What A Life Ive Led
(hicks / lynch)
There never was a man so doggone mean
I wore only black and my eyes were green
And I can tell you now that Im very old
Id kill any man for a piece of gold
Oh what a life Ive led
Ive been a real bad man and I oughta be dead
Oh what a life Ive led
Ive been real mean man, full of cheating and lying
Left a lot of men dead and a lot of girls crying
Yes I did
I rode into dodge on a sunny day
I went there to steal all the railmens pay
And when I left town all the streets ran red
I had ten grand in gold, and three guards lay dead
Chorus
I was a bad man with a heart made of stone
If you were a wise man, you wouldve left me alone
Ive lived all my life, such a lonely one
Just me and my horse and a fine six-gun
Ive lived and Ive loved and I knew great pain
But I know now Id do it over again singing
Chorus x 2
song performed by by Hollies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Re-Jigue
A health warning on some possible pitfalls of psychology
Lead Vocal: Frankie Howerd
I was lonely and depressed
Having fled the family home
When I met an old acquaintance
I had only barely known
And I told her over tea
Of my worries and my woes
And a morbid fear of eating beans
In tightly fitting clothes
And she said psychoanalysis was just the thing for me
And she knew a mayfair analyst I really ought to see
So I went round to his rooms
And he saw me right away
Though he asked a sum of money I could ill afford to pay
But I lay down on the couch
By a bowl of flaccid flowers
And I talked and talked and talked and talked
For hours and hours and hours
And he told me tales of oedipus with great authority
And he asked me if my mother
Wore stiletto heels and rubber
And I realised that this poor soul
Was more confused than me
Well the shock was so profound
That I fled into the strand
Where I saw a hare krishna group
And joined in with the band
This was just the life for me
Free of worldly goods and care
And I chanted and I ranted
Round and round trafalgar square
I converted tens of thousands and they joined us then and there
But the bagwan was so jealous
That he called me over zealous
Then he threw me out
When I refused to cut off all my hair
(Dr. Ruth, Dr. Ruth, why not write to Dr. Ruth?)
So I wrote to Dr. Ruth
And she helpfully proposed
I should join a nudist colony
And throw away my clothes
All that sun upon my flesh
Would set my libido free
And would guarentee much more of it
Whatever 'it' may be
But I don't feel that
song performed by by Alan Parsons Project
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sects Therapy
Lead vocal: frankie howerd
I was lonely and depressed
Having fled the family home
When I met an old acquaintance
I had only barely known
And I told her over tea
Of my worries and my woes
And a morbid fear of eating beans
In tightly fitting clothes
And she said psychoanalysis was just the thing for me
And she knew a mayfair analyst I really ought to see
So I went round to his rooms
And he saw me right away
Though he asked a sum of money I could ill afford to pay
But I lay down on the couch
By a bowl of flaccid flowers
And I talked and talked and talked and talked
For hours and hours and hours
And he told me tales of oedipus with great authority
And he asked me if my mother
Wore stiletto heels and rubber
And I realised that this poor soul
Was more confused than me
Well the shock was so profound
That I fled into the strand
Where I saw a hare krishna group
And joined in with the band
This was just the life for me
Free of worldly goods and care
And I chanted and I ranted
Round and round trafalgar square
I converted tens of thousands and they joined us then and there
But the bagwan was so jealous
That he called me over zealous
Then he threw me out
When I refused to cut off all my hair
(dr. ruth, dr. ruth, why not write to dr. ruth? )
So I wrote to dr. ruth
And she helpfully proposed
I should join a nudist colony
And throw away my clothes
All that sun upon my flesh
Would set my libido free
And would guarentee much more of it
Whatever it may be
But I dont feel that I was quite equipped for such a life
Fair of skin just like my sisters
Too much sun would give me blisters
So I think Ill turn the whole thing in
And go home to the wife
song performed by by Alan Parsons Project
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Life Is Not Measured By Its Length
i know you know that life is not measured by its length
or its width
lest it simply becomes a piece of
cube
a matter of furniture
or even a block of wood
lest it becomes so ordinary
with a depth that you can measure
so easily
in truth life has nothing to do with numbers
first, second,
one, two and three and there you claim that you have life
life is quality my dear
it is giving your best shot
giving up
life for a reason for a cause for those you value most
for those you love
and then when all the reasons are lost
when all your loved ones left you
when there is nothing greater
to believe
when nothing is worth living anymore
i will ask you: where can life be?
there is none anymore
it has become a piece of junk
worth throwing
in your garbage can
or keeping it in dusty garage or the mezzanine
always hoping that someday
it may still be worth the stay
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Indifference
Indifference is a blatant unkindness,
Far worse than anger and hatred.
With indifference you can get away
From victims, their anguish and miseries.
With indifference you can be well safe
From interruptions to your work and joy.
Neighbours are of no consequence
Nor are their lives meaningful.
Anger is creative; it brings changes.
Hatred is creative; it brings effects.
Indifference is not no-intrusion.
Indifference is destructive and inhuman.
06.10.2006
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Love Song: I And Thou
Nothing is plumb, level, or square:
the studs are bowed, the joists
are shaky by nature, no piece fits
any other piece without a gap
or pinch, and bent nails
dance all over the surfacing
like maggots. By Christ
I am no carpenter. I built
the roof for myself, the walls
for myself, the floors
for myself, and got
hung up in it myself. I
danced with a purple thumb
at this house-warming, drunk
with my prime whiskey: rage.
Oh I spat rage’s nails
into the frame-up of my work:
it held. It settled plumb,
level, solid, square and true
for that great moment. Then
it screamed and went on through,
skewing as wrong the other way.
God damned it. This is hell,
but I planned it, I sawed it,
I nailed it, and I
will live in it until it kills me.
I can nail my left palm
to the left-hand crosspiece but
I can’t do everything myself.
1 need a hand to nail the right,
a help, a love, a you, a wife.
poem by Alan Dugan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Crucifixion [The Light of The World]
They sunk a post into the ground
Where their leaders bade them stop;
It was a man’s height, and they spiked
A crosspiece to the top.
They bound it well with thongs of hide,
To make it firm and good;
Then roughly, with His back to this,
Their enemy they stood.
They held His hands upon the piece,
And they spiked them to the wood.
They mocked Him then—the while He rocked
In agony His head—
With things that He had never done,
And He had never said—
With that which He had never been—
And in His face they spat.
They placed a plank beside the post,
And they spiked His feet to that.
They pelted Him, but not with stones,
Lest He should die too soon;
They stayed to mock His agony
All through the blazing noon.
They did not pelt with stones, lest they
Might kill Him unaware,
But with foul things that lay about
The filthy hovels there.
And this was how they murdered Him
They killed Him in his youth
Because He had been good to men,
Because He told the truth,
Because they did not understand
The things He felt and knew:
He only said the world-old words,
“They know not what they do.”
The flaunting harlots taunted Him;
He only bowed His head,
And prayed for public women then,
While “Save Thyself!” they said.
They went with soldiers to the camp,
And the rest went by-and-bye,
When they were weary of the sport—
And they left Him there to die.
He lingered yet, for He was strong,
But He shut His blighted eyes,
And shuddered oft, for round Him swarmed
The loathsome desert flies.
His throat was parched, His temples throbbed,
And when He drooped, the pain
That shot from all His wounds tenfold
Would draw Him up again.
Two thieves were nailed beside Him there—
They raved, their wounds they tore,
And though they both were stronger men,
They seemed to suffer more;
And while with agony great beads
Of sweat stood on His brow,
He’d comfort them in words like these:
“’Twill soon be ended now.”
His friends had all deserted Him—
They fled in deadly fear
(As friends desert a friend to-day,
Afraid of jibe and sneer):
The same poor human nature now,
As it has ever been—
Small credit to be crucified
Beside a Nazarene.
But when the people in the town
And the drunken soldiers slept,
From some mean huts that stood hard by
Three wretched women crept;
Like thieves, across the stony ground,
They came with stealthy tread,
And they had water in a gourd—
But they found that He was dead.
They brought some still more wretched men,
And O their hearts were good:
In terror, and with pains, they wrenched
The strong spikes from the wood;
They washed His body hurriedly,
For they had lives to save,
And they bore it off and hid it well,
Where none might find his grave.
His name is known where’er the foot
Of Christian man has trod.
They worship in cathedrals now,
They call Him Son of God.
They ask for aid in His dear name
When they suffer care and pain,
And if He came on earth to-day,
They’d murder Him again.
poem by Henry Lawson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Who Gave you Inhuman Rights?
Who gave the inhuman rights
to the SriLankan army
to sever the heads of innocent boys
and set fire to the heaps of their corpses
at Mullivaikal and other places?
Who gave the inhuman rights
to rip the limbs of children,
the womenfolk and the old
and litter everywhere
for the vultures to eat or to rot?
Who gave the inhuman rights
to rape the wives of
the surrendered rebels
before their very eyes,
torture and kill them all?
Who gave the inhuman rights
to some mindless nations
to supply chemical weapons
to the brutal army of Lanka
to wage a genocidal war?
Who gave the inhuman rights
to the shameless soldiers of Lanka
to maul and cut off the feeding breasts
and shoot at the sacred organs
of the women and the rebels?
Who gave the inhuman rights
to the morons born to strumpets,
to shut the women and girls
in fenced-camps, starve
and lure them with food packets?
Who gave the inhuman rights
to drive out the ailing Tamils
from their traditional lands
and colonise with roguish monks
and Sinhalese convicts and goons?
Who can deny rights to Tamils elsewhere
to wage a war against these criminals
when the UNO is blind to these violations,
as some vested interests and bigots
have a stake in this blood-stained soil?
---------
poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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