When I Consider How My Light Is Spent
When I consider how my light is spent,
Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide,
And that one Talent which is death to hide
Lodged with me useless, though my Soul more bent
To serve therewith my Maker, and present
My true account, lest he returning chide;
“Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?”
I fondly ask. But patience, to prevent
That murmur, soon replies, “God doth not need
Either man’s work or his own gifts; who best
Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best. His state
Is Kingly. Thousands at his bidding speed
And post o’er Land and Ocean without rest:
They also serve who only stand and wait.”
poem by John Milton
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Sonnet 19
XIX
When I consider how my light is spent,
Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide,
And that one talent which is death to hide
Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent
To serve therewith my Maker, and present
My true account, lest He returning chide,
"Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?"
I fondly ask; But patience, to prevent
That murmur, soon replies "God doth not need
Either man's work or his own gifts. Who best
Bear His mild yoke, they serve Him best. His state
Is kingly: thousands at His bidding speed
And post o'er land and ocean without rest;
They also serve who only stand and wait."
poem by John Milton
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On His Blindness
When I consider how my light is spent
Ere half my days in this dark world and wide,
And that one talent which is death to hide
Lodg'd with me useless, though my soul more bent
To serve therewith my Maker, and present
My true account, lest he returning chide,
"Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?"
I fondly ask. But Patience, to prevent
That murmur, soon replies: "God doth not need
Either man's work or his own gifts: who best
Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best. His state
Is kingly; thousands at his bidding speed
And post o'er land and ocean without rest:
They also serve who only stand and wait."
poem by John Milton
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Sonnet XIX: When I Consider How my Light is Spent
When I consider how my light is spent
Ere half my days in this dark world and wide,
And that one talent which is death to hide
Lodg'd with me useless, though my soul more bent
To serve therewith my Maker, and present
My true account, lest he returning chide,
"Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?"
I fondly ask. But Patience, to prevent
That murmur, soon replies: "God doth not need
Either man's work or his own gifts: who best
Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best. His state
Is kingly; thousands at his bidding speed
And post o'er land and ocean without rest:
They also serve who only stand and wait."
poem by John Milton
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Sonnet 16
XVI
When I consider how my light is spent,
E're half my days, in this dark world and wide,
And that one Talent which is death to hide,
Lodg'd with me useless, though my Soul more bent
To serve therewith my Maker, and present
My true account, least he returning chide,
Doth God exact day-labour, light deny'd,
I fondly ask; But patience to prevent
That murmur, soon replies, God doth not need
Either man's work or his own gifts, who best
Bear his milde yoak, they serve him best, his State
Is Kingly. Thousands at his bidding speed
And post o're Land and Ocean without rest:
They also serve who only stand and waite.
poem by John Milton
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On his Previous Blindness - Parody John MILTON - On His Blindness
When I consider how my life's been spent
these whirling years in this dark world and wide,
with that one talent which my wits supplied
held in abeyance waiting for love s[c]ent
to blossom to true beauty, to present
the world with tribute due and bona fide,
I thank my stars I have not been denied
your love which none and nothing can prevent,
your love, where that of others is descent,
your love which above all on Earth I pride.
I thank 'coincidence' which did provide
the opportunity to be content.
When I consider this I understand
how two t[hr]o[ugh] one may flow, grow hand in hand!
(10 December 2001 after Jphn Milton see below for alternate version)
Time Misspent
When I consider so much time misspent
these fifty years, I've little right to guide, -
such talent slight which tired wits supplied
suspended, in abeyance, impotent.
I tried to fight conformity, present
the world a contribution bona fide, -
I failed. The spirit is dissatisfied.
Some grief I wrought, feared fraudulent intent,
felt tenderness a threat - heart discontent.
Understanding free from bias, pride,
I'm thankful for, thank life which could provide
the opportunity to learn time lent
grants space to face oneself, to understand
how two should flow together, hand in hand..
(10 December 2001 after Jphn Milton see below for alternate version)
On Our Blindness
When we consider all our freedoms lost
with HA! BE U.S.! Corpus of bush law,
black death to hide the whitewash when p'lice score
'gainst innocence ‘wrong place, wrong time' star-crossed,
One wonders, when our children count the cost
and, chiding, true account present before
Executive Privilege bolted door,
will they, when light denied, in prison tossed,
murmur "God only needs assent Orwellian bossed! "?
Man, chip embeddèd, acts recorded, sore
bearing harsh yoke, must serve where none ignore
C.C.T.V. controls come shine or frost.
They swerve too late who brake fair freedom's flow,
stand, wait, burn at State stake, want not to know …
(15 May 2007 after John MILTON 1608_1674 On His Blindness)
On his Blindness
When I consider how my light is spent
Ere half my days in this dark world and wide,
And that one talent which is death to hide
Lodg'd with me useless, though my soul more bent
To serve therewith my Maker, and present
My true account, lest he returning chide,
'Doth God exact day-labour, light denied? '
I fondly ask. But Patience, to prevent
That murmur, soon replies: 'God doth not need
Either man's work or his own gifts: who best
Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best. His state
Is kingly; thousands at his bidding speed
And post o'er land and ocean without rest:
They also serve who only stand and wait.'
John MILTON 1608_1674
poem by Jonathan Robin
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On Our Blindness - after John Milton - On His Blindness
On Our Blindness
When we consider all our freedoms lost
with HA! BE U.S.! Corpus of bush law,
black death to hide the whitewash when p’lice score
’gainst innocence ‘wrong place, wrong time’ star-crossed,
One wonders, when our children count the cost
and, chiding, true account present before
Executive Privilege bolted door,
will they, when light denied, in prison tossed,
murmur “God only needs assent Orwellian bossed! ”?
Man, chip embeddèd, acts recorded, sore
bearing harsh yoke, must serve where none ignore
C.C.T.V. controls come shine or frost.
They swerve too late who brake fair freedom’s flow,
stand, wait, burn at State stake, want not to know …
© Jonathan Robin Parody written 15 May 2007 after John MILTON 1608_1674 – On His Blindness. See below for alternative versions
On his Previous Blindness
When I consider how my life's been spent
these whirling years in this dark world and wide,
with that one talent which my wits supplied
held in abeyance waiting for love s[c]ent
to blossom to true beauty, to present
the world with tribute due and undenied,
I thank my stars I have not been denied
your love which none and nothing can prevent,
your love, where that of others is descent,
your love which above all on Earth I pride.
I thank 'coincidence' which could provide
the opportunity to be content.
When I consider this I understand
how two t[hr]o[ugh] one may flow, grow hand in hand
Parody John MILTON 1608_1674 – On His Blindness
Time Misspent
When he considers so much time misspent
these fifty years, he's little right to guide, –
such talent slight which tired wits supplied
suspended, in abeyance, impotent.
He tried to fight conformity, present
the world a contribution bona fide, –
He failed. The spirit is dissatisfied.
Some grief he wrought, feared fraudulent intent,
felt tenderness a threat – heart discontent.
Understanding free from bias, pride,
stays thankful for, thanks life which could provide
the opportunity to learn time lent
grants space to face oneself, to understand
how two should flow together, hand in hand...
Parody John MILTON 1608_1674 – On His Blindness
__________________
On his Blindness
When I consider how my light is spent
Ere half my days in this dark world and wide,
And that one talent which is death to hide
Lodg'd with me useless, though my soul more bent
To serve therewith my Maker, and present
My true account, lest he returning chide,
'Doth God exact day-labour, light denied? '
I fondly ask. But Patience, to prevent
That murmur, soon replies: 'God doth not need
Either man's work or his own gifts: who best
Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best. His state
Is kingly; thousands at his bidding speed
And post o'er land and ocean without rest:
They also serve who only stand and wait.'
John MILTON 1608_1674
____________________
Reminiscent Reflections
When I consider how my life is spent,
I hardly ever repent.
Ogden NASH 1902_1971
poem by Jonathan Robin
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They also Serve after John Milton On His Blindness
'They also serve, who only stand and wait'
survivor said, regretting others' fate.
'They also serve who wait without the gate'
time-server said, observing patron's gait.
'What service, light denied, anticipate? '
'Light - despite paradoxical life's plate! '
They're served, who only put on weight, expand,
whose judgement lies, so heavy on the land.
They swerve from justice, who, with heavy hand,
pervert the law, - for which they should be damned.
They wait, who only seem to serve and stand,
beware! a revolution is at hand.
To stand and wait in life to some seems nice
to taste of time, like salad, lacking spice!
(28 March 1981 revised 7 August 2007)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Is Second Best Just Jest Test or Unjust Protest Gest?
When second best protests against dire chance
he or she echoes stress at life's twist dance.
Self-confidence is put to sorry test,
ambitions, on the shelf, are laid to rest.
Inadequacy often will deny
the will to try, succeed, luck's lies decry.
'They also serve, who only stand and wait'
survivor said, regretting callous fate.
'They also serve who wait without the gate'
time-server grates, perceiving patron's pate.
'What service, light denied, anticipate? '
'Light - despite paradoxical life's plate! '
They're served, who only put on weight, expand,
whose judgement lies, so heavy on the land.
They swerve from justice, who, with heavy hand,
pervert the law- for which they should be damned.
They wait, who only seem to serve and stand,
beware! banned revolution is at hand.
To stand and wait in life to some seems nice
to taste of time, like salad, lacking spice!
When dream of self esteem turns rancid, raw,
apologies tears crocodile soon pour.
Poor too is mind that looks behind not for
top flight successes, recognized, in store.
Fresh opportunities are infinite,
no need to mope, scorn hope, of goals lose sigh.
What second best may seem at any time
can role-reverse distress, blessed see self climb.
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Sonnet: God Gives and Takes
Though poverty-bred, I am versatile,
And want to serve my Maker in great ways;
My thoughts of doing good are pulsatile;
I pray to God to give me better days.
I have done much and wish to do much more;
My labor’s futile if He says, ‘nay, no! ’
I wait for God to open one more door;
Against the devils’ current, I must row.
But I will wait for opportune moments;
Success can come only if God does bless;
And if denied, I shall have ‘no comments’!
He gives men gifts and takes away excess.
God, let me live and die in Thine harness,
The only way for my true happiness.
poem by John Celes
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Securitron: Police State 2000
Invade and encompass to judge and dissect
Witness and persecute to serve and protect
To serve, and to protect to serve
To serve, and to protect to serve
Watchful and aware, contrain every movement
Admit the consequences, freedom's an illusion
Where is security governed through scrutiny?
Your privacy denied, organized and confined!
No place to hide!
No place to hide!
There is no place to hide
Plugged in your mind
Conformed design
To concede your rights
Concede your mind
Surrender to authority
All must abide and all must adhere
Future opression becoming more clear
This is a warning so you must take heed
This coming vision is reality
Where is security governed through scrutiny?
Your privacy denied, organized and confined!
No place to hide
No place to hide
song performed by by Fear Factory
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Securitron
Invade and encompass to judge and dissect
Witness and persecute to serve and protect
To serve, and protect to serve
To serve, and protect to serve
Watchful and aware, constrain every movement
Admit the consequences, freedom's an illusion
Where is security governed through scrutiny?
Your privacy denied, organized and confined!
No place to hide!
No place to hide!
There is no place to hide
Plugged in your mind
Conformed design
To concede your rights
Concede your mind
Surrender to authority
"all must abide and all must adhere"
Future oppression becoming more clear
This is a warning so you must take heed
This coming vision is reality
Where is security governed through scrutiny?
Your privacy denied, organized and confined!
No place to hide
No place to hide...
song performed by by Fear Factory
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Probation
Full slow to part with her best gifts is Fate;
The choicest fruitage comes not with the spring,
But still for summer's mellowing touch must wait,—
For storms and tears, which season'd excellence
bring;
And Love doth fix his joyfullest estate
In hearts that have been hushed 'neath Sorrow's
brooding wing.
Youth sues to Fame: coldly she answers, "Toil!"
He sighs for Nature's treasures: with reserve
Responds the goddess, "Woo them from the soil."
Then fervently he cries, "Thee will I serve,—
Thee only, blissful Love!" With proud recoil
The heavenly boy replies, "To serve me well,
deserve!"
poem by Florence Earle Coates from Poems (1898)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The God that i serve
if you want to serve the God that
i serve you gotta be strong
if you want to serve the God that
i serve you gotta be prepared to live
a holy a life becouse my God is so
holy
if you want to serve the God that i
serve you gotta have a strong a faith
becouse with my God everything is
possible
if you want to serve the God that i serve
you gotta be prepared to serve your
spirit not your flesh
if you want to serve the God that i serve
you gotta fear not
becouse he protects us
day and night
he is a God who doesnt
sleep
if you want to serve the God that
i serve you gotta be prepared
to bring all your deasess
becouse he is jehova rhafa
and he can heal all your deasess
he is jehova jaera the lord my
provider
my God is jehova niecey
strong in battles
he is jehova shalom the God
that will get you the peace of mind
poem by Mathilda Maphori
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Smaller than the smallest atom
Smaller than the smallest atom,
All embracing as the heavens,
Tuka views the world objective -
Name and form as all delusion -
Realising its true nature
Serpent like, he drops his cover,
Far is left the triple range,
Which the soul has just passed o'er
Light the jar of dull clay brightens!
Shining in that light doth Tuka
Live on earth to serve the mankind.
poem by Sant Tukaram
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Congrats, Dear Doctor Couple Friends
Although awards are earthly gifts from men,
They serve to goad the fire that's heart within,
And help us do our duty much better,
And turn an example and trend-setter!
To be a good teacher is not a joke;
To be a good doctor requires work;
To be both needs much toil carrying yoke;
That you have both achieved this gives great mirth!
Thank God for being kind to doctors two;
A teacher's joy is granted to but few!
A doctor's job is noble to the core;
Make up your minds to serve God all the more.
Fondly dedicated to medical teacher colleagues,
Drs. Shanthi DGO & Rajendran M.S.,
by Dr.A.Celestine Raj Manohar M.D., Dean
On behalf of all staff at IRT PMC& H, Perundurai.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 5-09-2012
poem by John Celes
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The Dead Heart
We dont serve your country
Dont serve your king
Know your custom dont speak your tongue
White man came took everyone
We dont serve your country
Dont serve your king
White man listen to the songs we sing
White man came took everything
We carry in our hearts the true country
And that cannot be stolen
We follow in the steps of our ancestry
And that cannot be broken
We dont need protection
Dont need your land
Keep your promise on where we stand
We will listen well understand
Mining companies, pastoral companies
Uranium companies
Collected companies
Got more right than people
Got more say than people
Forty thousand years can make a difference to the state of things
The dead heart lives here
song performed by by Midnight Oil
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One of Two
It practiced once
And you followed twice
A slave to it you are
Serve with all your might
That's dispensed to your soul
Serve the angel that never served you
Let it have its fun…
To then be saved by the light you shun.
poem by Erica Borges
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Gotta Serve Somebody
You may be an ambassador to england or france,
You may like to gamble, you might like to dance,
You may be the heavyweight champion of the world,
You may be a socialite with a long string of pearls
But youre gonna have to serve somebody, yes indeed
Youre gonna have to serve somebody,
Well, it may be the devil or it may be the lord
But youre gonna have to serve somebody.
You might be a rock n roll addict prancing on the stage,
You might have drugs at your command, women in a cage,
You may be a business man or some high degree thief,
They may call you doctor or they may call you chief
But youre gonna have to serve somebody, yes indeed
Youre gonna have to serve somebody,
Well, it may be the devil or it may be the lord
But youre gonna have to serve somebody.
You may be a state trooper, you might be a young turk,
You may be the head of some big tv network,
You may be rich or poor, you may be blind or lame,
You may be living in another country under another name
But youre gonna have to serve somebody, yes indeed
Youre gonna have to serve somebody,
Well, it may be the devil or it may be the lord
But youre gonna have to serve somebody.
You may be a construction worker working on a home,
You may be living in a mansion or you might live in a dome,
You might own guns and you might even own tanks,
You might be somebodys landlord, you might even own banks
But youre gonna have to serve somebody, yes indeed
Youre gonna have to serve somebody,
Well, it may be the devil or it may be the lord
But youre gonna have to serve somebody.
You may be a preacher with your spiritual pride,
You may be a city councilman taking bribes on the side,
You may be workin in a barbershop, you may know how to cut hair,
You may be somebodys mistress, may be somebodys heir
But youre gonna have to serve somebody, yes indeed
Youre gonna have to serve somebody,
Well, it may be the devil or it may be the lord
But youre gonna have to serve somebody.
Might like to wear cotton, might like to wear silk,
Might like to drink whiskey, might like to drink milk,
You might like to eat caviar, you might like to eat bread,
You may be sleeping on the floor, sleeping in a king-sized bed
But youre gonna have to serve somebody, yes indeed
Youre gonna have to serve somebody,
Well, it may be the devil or it may be the lord
But youre gonna have to serve somebody.
You may call me terry, you may call me timmy,
You may call me bobby, you may call me zimmy,
You may call me r.j., you may call me ray,
You may call me anything but no matter what you say
Youre gonna have to serve somebody, yes indeed
Youre gonna have to serve somebody.
Well, it may be the devil or it may be the lord
But youre gonna have to serve somebody.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love is a fire whose flame doth burn unseen
Love is a fire whose flame doth burn unseen
A wound whose aching smart we do not feel;
Contentment discontent with its own weal;
A teasing pain, though neither deep nor keen:
It is not liking more than liking e'en;
Wandering alone 'midst crowds that seem unreal;
Not to content one's self with Heaven's own seal;
A care that only gain by loss doth mean:
'Tis to be captured with one's own consent;
The victor to the vanquished here must serve;
Keep faith with one who on our death is bent:
How can its fickle favour e'er preserve
In human hearts consistence of intent,
Since to itself contrarious Love doth swerve?
poem by Luís de Camões from Sonnets (1595), translated by Collard J. Stock
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Everybody can be great... because anybody can serve. You don't have to have a college degree to serve. You don't have to make your subject and verb agree to serve. you only need a heart full of grace. a soul generated by love.
quote by Martin Luther King
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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