The Vessel
The Vessel was a thing of clay.
the sort you use, then throw away.
It was worth little, of itself,
but that vessel was filled with Love.
It poured out Love upon the Living
Free and selfless was its giving.
When at last the clay was dry,
it was the vessels time to die.
It shattered on the sands of time,
now half a lifetime gone from mine.
The vessel was my Dad you see-
and by his gifts I was set free.
I wept the day he met his end-
will I ever see his like again?
God willing on a higher plane
I'll get to call again his name.,
but if my journey ends in dust,
he taught me how as all men must.
poem by John F. McCullagh
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Sonnet: A Pot of Special Clay
The Potter chose to make a pot of clay,
And used some special earth to mould its frame,
That turned to be a vessel, which one day,
Became so holy, bringing Him, great name!
God filled the vessel with His divine grace,
And placed it on His sacred altar, when
The vessel glowed with beauty, worth much praise:
And quenched were souls, who drank from it often!
And when the pot had done its job on earth,
It cracked one day when old, and turned to dust:
But looked much finer than ev’n gold, at birth;
For, it had held the blood of Jesus Christ!
By fulfilling His Maker’s ardent aim,
The pot had turned to dust, from whence it came!
Fondly dedicated to a deceased ‘Man of God’,
Brother Dr. DGS Dhinakaran,
JESUS CALLS MINISTRY, TN, India
Copyright by Dr John Celes 2-22-2008
poem by John Celes
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The Vessel That I am!
I am a weak vessel.
Strengthen me, O Lord!
Help me fill up to the brim
With virtues of all sorts.
I am a small vessel.
Make me hold more, O Lord!
Take away my porosity;
Let things remain intact.
I am a clay vessel.
Polish my sides, O Lord!
Let me stand most splendidly,
Glorifying my God.
I am a mere vessel,
Distorted somewhat, O Lord!
Place me on a rocky base,
To show the world my class!
The vessel whatever that I am
Will serve Thee only, Lord.
Fill me up with thy grace, O God
To prove that I’m fine clod!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 2-1-2009
poem by John Celes
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A Clay Vessel
The Lord has taken a vessel like me, and shaped it for an eternity.
An empty, cracked vessel like this, He has filled with Eternal Bliss.
All my sin, Christ has set apart, as God began a work in my heart.
He cleansed me first of all my sin, then He started a change within.
I am molded by God’s loving hand, in ways I may not understand.
God’s the potter and I’m the clay, to be molded in His perfect way.
Who am I to even think or say, in suggesting to God a better way?
For God lifted me out of the mire, to shape my life per His desire.
We are created for God’s pleasure, as part of His Eternal treasure.
We are given a New Life to glorify, Jesus Christ, who lives on high.
We’re here to serve The Living God, on this temporal earth we trod.
Friend, in this life, I can not ill afford, to question the will of my Lord.
God has my life under His control, along with every other living soul.
I’m just a tiny part of God’s plan, to bring His Salvation to every man.
And I am blessed as God uses me, in pointing other men to eternity.
To the cross of His Son Jesus Christ, the eternal author of every life.
God knows the plans He has for me, sure plans for future prosperity.
It may not seem to be of worth, compared to the values of this earth.
But as a part of God’s pleasure, He’s storing for me eternal treasure.
So one thing that I can surely say; I am so blessed to be God’s Clay.
The World Is A Sacred Vessel
'The world is a sacred vessel...' Thomas Merton
blue vessel
in black vacuum
miracle world
encircling
thrall of this perfect star
sacred vessel,
His living cup
to beloved proffered,
wedding gift
beyond measure.
poem by Steven Federle
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Offerings to God
What shall I give my Maker – God,
Who formed me man, woman from clay,
And breathed life, precious into it,
To live my days on earth, all fit.
What shall I offer Almighty,
Whose special love for me, made me,
The clay vessel that’s filled to brim –
An instrument of His hand – Him!
How shall I then repay His love,
That made me human being with
A soul divine to understand
The Creator’s heart, full of love?
How can I give just gifts I got
As blessings from the Supreme One?
All things that I can offer Him
Seem silly and of less import!
There isn’t a priceless thing I have,
Except the talents, He gave me;
So, let me offer my labor,
And do my duty, God-centered.
O God of Heavens, sky and earth!
Give me the wisdom and patience
To serve You better all my life,
And join You in Eternity!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 12-19-2009
poem by John Celes
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The yin yang moon
Hung upon the sky
Weaves the web of stars
Down the water glide
A half created vessel I am - they say
Measuring sand in my body grain
Flat forehead upward hope sunk unsung
I’ll starve my eyes on Milky waves
Glaring at those lines divine
No I will not be a half created vessel
Lying under the bags of clouds
No I will not be a half created vessel
I’ll be a mermaid of the sky
Embedding the last floating cry
Inspired by ‘Hombre Ante el Infinito’ (Man Contemplating Infinity)
a painting by Rufino Tamayo
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Within this Earthen Vessel
WITHIN this earthen vessel are bowers and groves,
and within it is the Creator:
Within this vessel are the seven oceans
and the unnumbered stars.
The touchstone and the jewel-appraiser are within;
and within this vessel the Eternal soundeth,
and the spring wells up.
Kabîr says:
'Listen to me, my Friend!
My beloved Lord is within.'
Restrict the wants to things in hand
The milk that is not full in a vessel
Can be full in an exact vessel
And even spill over from a smaller one.
Your want is the vessel and things, the milk.
25.12.2000, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Panhandler
The panhandler sits on the street corner.
He asks me, "Spare some change? "
Like an empty vessel, I walk past him.
I see him as another empty vessel.
Some throw him a dime,
But I treat him as a vapor.
My spirit tugs at me.
My mind says he is a ghost,
But my ghost says he is real.
The currency he needs is my time.
He might be looking for his next fix,
But what will it fix?
Another lost soul, looking to get even more lost.
The root of all evil is planting another seed of discontent.
If my God is money,
Your free time has no value to me.
Anything that is free is void of value,
But time is really my only currency.
I only see the value of my own and not another's.
My account has no statement,
For when it is gone,
I will be broke.
I hoard it as if I were broke.
Investing only in myself.
It is why I feel broken.
Some time left in my breast pocket?
It beats to help he who is beat.
Spare time is something I have.
For it really is my true value,
Given from the heart of God.
If I lend some of mine to another,
It makes Him proud.
It is the core of my love.
It is the gift of His love.
He is truly my bank.
I bank on Him,
I count on Him,
I trust in Him.
Currency says "In God We Trust",
But can God trust in me?
Investing my time,
In one who is broke.
The dividend is joy.
The change in the pan will be spent.
Could he be searching for my gold?
I fill another's heart,
I see my investment grow.
With God's currency,
I am truly rich.
Though, I am only on borrowed time.
For the panhandler was just an angel.
God's teller.
Telling God if I made a deposit or withdrawal.
God knows my balance,
As He holds my account.
He knows to which God,
I am accountible to.
And if my spirit is balanced.
poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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In My Silence I Am Breaking
i am an empty vessel
why not fill me up a little
with your cool water
it will really matter
i am an empty vessel
for a long time now
wanting to be contained
in your fullness
you may please
fill me up to my brim
if it is possible with you
fill me with your cool waters
let me overflow
with your love
and understanding
in my emptiness
i am howling
in my silence
i am breaking
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Free At Last
Now I am trying to tell you something about my life
Maybe give you insight might just change your life
Im free at last, Im free at last, Im free at last, Im free at last,
Im free at last, Im free at last, Im free at last,
Im free from fooling round wasting time,
Floating in this abyss of your dreadful love
Free is a feeling so high in the sky
Higher higher higher
Free from the quarrels unsatisfaction
Free from the false dream that you planted
In me with your submissive love
Im free at last, Im free at last, Im free at last, Im free at last,
Im free at last, Im free at last, Im free at last,
Now I am open like the sky
For the sun to shine and colors true
To find me blue
Oh what a joy to be free
Im free at last, Im free at last, Im free at last, Im free at last,
Im free at last, Im free at last, Im free at last,
Im free of cheating your poor heart at my own damn expense
The cost was heavy and it rent as a thunder cloud
A hurricane sure racked in my heart
Now the rain is gone and I am gone
Yes, I am moving on
Im free at last, Im free at last, Im free at last,
song performed by by G. Love & Special Sauce
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Little Tear-Vase
Other vessels hold wine, other vessels hold oil
inside the hollowed-out vault circumscribed by their clay.
I, as smaller measure, and as the slimmest of all,
humbly hollow myself so that just a few tears can fill me.
Wine becomes richer, oil becomes clear, in its vessel.
What happens with tears?-They made me blind in my
glass,
made me heavy and made my curve iridescent,
made me brittle, and left me empty at last.
Translated by Stephen Mitchell
poem by Rainer Maria Rilke
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With these Oars and Within This Vessel
Do you see these oars?
I made them to row...
Against waves that may come to rock,
With a wind prepared to slow my determination.
If not attempt to stop...
My vision.
With a blocking done by indecision!
This is not that kind of 'trip'.
These oars are mine.
And this vessel too,
Has been redefined and constructed.
With my hands blistered!
From a nonstop flowing of faith.
And I could care less what the odds are.
Or what the others may say of me being bizarre...
Crazed and a bit 'touched'!
I am going to reach my destination.
With these oars.
And within this vessel.
Regardless of what the others may say...
My sights are not limited to this neighborhood.
And free they are of restricting myths.
'You remind me of Noah.
That dude that build that Ark.'
Cool.
But I am speaking figuratively.
Emblematic!
Metaphorically suggestive as to those steps I'm taking.
My journey does not entail traveling with a zoo.
'I'm sure all of nature thanks you for your thoughtfulness.
In an emblematic metaphorical way.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Unfill The Vessel To Again Fill
Tiny tale for a sale.
People from sands to vale.
Joy of praise to cheers.
A way from cut to sheers.
Jack beside Jill, to the hill.
Unfill the vessel to again fill.
Shiny white snow and blue sky.
Clouds over the hill they fly.
Sounds of roar still we dare.
Prize of present got to share.
Counted already million still its nill.
Unfill the vessel to again fill.
Warm of sun, Shades of the dark.
Rest on woods, Expectant on the park.
Worlds got lot of adversary and misery.
Rest of peace is core and treasury.
Still travel till you find it until.
Unfill the vessel to again fill.
poem by Diplove gautam
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Stone
The days have passed, nights are gone,
I'm still in love with a stone,
The seasons changed, the clay too came,
I still hold it with no moan,
The clay comes to me in so many shapes,
Wants me to hold it, whatever it may take,
But clay can hurt me, clay may fake,
Even if it's clay, I have a heart it can break,
The season may change,
The clay may go,
Slowing my heart beat,
All time low,
Stone is hard,
Stone is black,
Stone is emotionless,
Doesn't stab at back,
The clay, the stone, both make me die,
But if a stone does, even the clay may cry...
and I'll never ask why...
It's better to live with a stone,
not clay,
Clay is soft, but it hurts,
which is not the stone's way.....
poem by Apurva Jain
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To Guido Cavalcanti
Guido, I wish that Lapo, you, and I
could board a vessel, by transporter beam,
that sailed by will alone, wherever seemed
desirable to go, beneath all skies.
I'd have our vessel proof to chance and gale,
and well supplied for pleasant times at sea:
we'd grow into a merry company —
good food and reveling would be the rule.
And Guido, we'd try beaming up the dames!
We'd take the ladies Vanna, Bess, and her
whom I discreetly call the Mistress Trenta:
love, of course, would be the main agenda;
that would keep 'em happy I am sure,
and well I know that we would be the same.
poem by Dante Alighieri
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Grateful (inspired by Julianne)
You're the greatest Muse of all
I didn't have to look too far
You're the Inspirer of it all
You did breathe Life
You're the Spirit behind it all
You did Create it all
Including me
A vessel
Who needed confirmation
Who's now a true vessel
Engaged in conversation
You're the greatest Muse of all
And I give thanks
For giving me the inspiration to create
You are the greatest Muse of all
It is to You I'm grateful for
I owe it all to You all that I do
I'm an empty vessel through and through
I'm so so grateful to You
© 2009 Sonya Florentino
Julianne Tarroja is a young singer-songwriter from the Philippines. Her debut album “Grateful” is a work of true inspiration. If you haven’t listened to it, please do so. The single is a sure winner—deeply personal yet universal, spiritual but not preachy, poignant yet very contemporary and yes, it is catchy! Another favorite of mine is the less commercially-appealing but equally beautiful “Let It Rain” which is simply simply exquisite-poetry made into song.
poem by Sonya Florentino
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Marred
The Hoover hooves and the cutter cuts,
But here i stay standing and waiting for you at the door;
And like the vessel that he or she makes of clay in this town,
But the same act is now marred in their hands!
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Alankar(Decor) -79
Alankar(Decor) -58
Sail O'Soul Sail(Chain Verse)
Chain Verse is composed in one of three ways:
1 Chain Verse is composed
with the last word or syllable of one line repeated
in the beginning of the next line.
2 Chain Verse can be stanzaic, most often written in any number of quatrains
but any stanza form will do, linked by repeating the last word of a stanza
as the first word of the next stanza.
The repetition of a word from one Verse or stanza to the next creates a chain-like link.
usually rhymed, linking rhyme as well as alternate rhyme.
often syllabic, alternating longer-shorter lines.
One example is alternating 8-7-8-7 syllables the other is alternating 6-5-6-5 syllables per line.
3 Chain Verse can be written
with the last line of the stanza repeated
as the first line of the next stanza.
3
Sail O'Soul Sail
Once boarded why you fear o' soul
Just be watching where sails your mind
Aspiring to horizon-goal
All set on a smooth float by wind
All set on a smooth float by wind
On gentle waves across your sea
As you sail assailed by your mind
How those desires hit your heart free
How those desires hit your heart free
As of a choice in heaven's trade
That your mind is on aiming spree
In illumed dreamings in fate's shade
In illumed dreamings in fate's shade
While your sail is mid way caught up
How your sea baits in storming grade
And shocked you struggle to catch up
And shocked you struggle to catch up
For not yours but your mind's misdeed
Helpless you are jailed in lockup
Your vessel too shattered indeed
Your vessel too shattered indeed
Such is your sea of greed and lust
Such is the fate of your sea's heed
Wind too is feeling difficult
Wind too is feeling difficult
Now that the sea somewhat calms still
Wind settles in silenced cool mute
Atlast your vessel too nihil
Atlast your vessel too nihil
And sea gone in presence of Nought
You are freed atlast to your will
To board the next the way you're caught
sea-life, wind-breath, vessel-body.
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Confucius
i am sebastian but
at the same time i am also
not sebastian
i am in a vessel i am contained
at the same time
i am the vessel
it's complicated and it the simplest
thing that can be said about it
it is and yet it is also both not
what it is
tomorrow i change and i tomorrow itself
changes
i am change and i do not change
to change
it is simple as it is as complicated
when it becomes that
simple
i am heaven and i am earth
i am sky and i am sun.
poem by Sebastian Soberania
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