Easter Eggs for the Homeless
When I'm feeling lost and bored
I contemplate Our Holy Lord
Who rose from the dead on Easter Day
Much to the Devil's deep dismay!
I sit here in the street and beg -
No, not for me an Easter egg!
Food's something that I can't afford
And usually I am ignored.
I thought that Jesus loved the poor
But I don't believe that anymore,
I think the whole thing is a hoax
When I curl up in my cardboard box.
Is there no justice in this life,
Just hunger, misery and strife?
Did Judas die from suicide?
He might have been wrong but at least he tried!
His silver coins would have helped the poor
And fed a mouth or two for sure,
Perhaps his tortured heart was pure -
Now that's a thought you can't endure! !
poem by John Thorkild Ellison
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Happy Easter!
Palm Sunday has gone,
Holy week has begun,
The week with events
Leading to Jesus torments,
To His Resurrection,
Showing the spirits domination.
Glory to Jesus Christ!
Easter Sunday today,
The greatest holiday.
We pray and say,
All around the world,
The words of love to our Lord
Showing that his death was not in vain.
Glory to Jesus Christ!
We light the candles
As a symbol of the rising sun,
And their light resembles
Jesus was really God’s Son.
The light comes back to the world
With the risen Jesus.
Glory to Jesus Christ!
The church bells ring,
The whole world sings Alleluia!
Easter eggs we bring
As a symbol of spring
With pretty small limes
Since the ancient times.
Glory to Jesus Christ!
Easter Rabbits or Easter Bunny
Look today happy and sunny.
They represent a new life
Full of presents and so nice.
We wear new clothes to look the best,
We’d like to follow His behest.
Glory to Jesus Christ!
The history of Sunday Easter has a long story,
And today we proclaim Jesus Christ Day
And say: Glory to our Lord!
Glory to the King of all Christians:
Ukrainians and Indians,
Russians and Americans,
Of all those who want to live in love and peace,
Our life for better to increase.
Glory to Jesus Christ!
And…..Happy Easter!
©Larisa Rzhepishevska
The 24th of April,2011
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Real Reason
I'm going to tell you something you might consider funny
But Easter isn't all about the hip hoppity bunny
NOr is at about candy and all those other sweets
And the eggs in the basket and other fun treats
Now listen close to what I have to say
And you'll know why we celebrate this day
Easter tells us how much God's love costs
And how He wants to gather in the lost
It was on the cross Christ died for our sin
So those who believed now to heaven enter in
Yes, God so loved the world that He gave His Son
So victory over death could now be won
On Easter morning Christ rose from the dead
The story's not over, there's much more to be said
yes, it's okay to enjoy the bunny, the candy and sweets
The eggs in the basket and the other fun treats
Just remember that Christ's resurrection is the real reason
That we celebrate the Easter season
White Angel the Easter Rabbit
Out of a lovely fantasy…..,
She appeared one Springtime day…..,
And made our world……,
So happy in every way……,
It was a vision so wondrous……,
As we colored our eggs…..,
For the Easter Holiday
White Angel, The Easter Rabbit…..,
Brought sunshine to our lives…..,
When it came to joy we had it…..,
White Angel, The Easter Rabbit…..,
She’d hop, hop, hop….,
All day long…..,
Be dancin’ around……,
And singin’ a song…..,
As Easter came so merrily…..,
She was so much fun for us to see……,
White Angel, The Easter Rabbit…..,
Brought sunshine to our lives…..,
Lovin’ her was a tireless habit……,
White Angel, The Easter Rabbit…..,
But poof just like each night and day……,
Her visit soon had to end …..,
So she hop, hop, hopped on her way……,
Off to visit her fairytale friends……,
As we sadly bid farewell to her…….,
She said, “Come on now, don’t cry…..,
I’ll be back again some Easter Day”…..,
White Angel, The Easter Rabbit…..,
Brought sunshine to our lives…..,
When it came to joy we had it…..,
White Angel, The Easter Rabbit…..,
Pure white gold in 24 karat…..,
White Angel, The Easter Rabbit….! ! !
(2011)
poem by Trade Martin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Healthier Easter
This is the first Easter
No candy baskets will be here
But we had so many baskets
Each and every year.
The kids are older now
Candy they don’t want anymore
So this Easter the baskets sit empty
Behind the closet door.
Somehow I want the Easter Bunny here
Want those baskets filled with eggs so bright
But my teens want to be healthier
So they make sure that they eat right.
They forfeit sugar and junk
No more Peeps or a big chocolate bunny
But being without Easter Baskets on Easter
Seems to be very odd and funny.
So I am putting the word out
To the Easter Bunny in my town
That I don’t think the teens will mind
If you decide to come around.
Maybe you could leave some health bars
Perhaps some fruit and veggies too
And maybe you could put some books in there
Those things could still say “I love you”.
poem by Connie Webb
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Too Late
HOPE? What! hope !—you say there is hope for the long-lost one!
Hope! when the light is out; hope! when the oil is done;
Hope! No, no, good lady! no hope for me, at least;
No home for me but the clammy grave when life has ceased.
Hope! Well, there might have been hope had my mother lived; but, then,
5
God struck her dead, and I was left alone among men.
God knows how I loved her; and shall I never see her again?
Is there no glimpse of heaven for those who are doomed to pain?
Oh, cannot she come and kiss me? Oh, cannot she pray by my side,
As she did long ago on that terrible evening before she died?
10
If she prayed God would hear her, and perhaps—but no;
I'm too old a sinner for mercy—there is nothing for me but woe.
You say that I yet could be saved if I sorrowed for my sin;
That the Lord is at heaven's gate to take poor sinners in!
God knows that I hate my sin, but I feel that it cannot be;
15
I've so often forsaken Him, that He must have forsaken me.
Nay, don't offer a prayer for me, lady, it's only mocking at God:
Who knows but my tired heart still may rest beneath the sod?
For I always loved the sunny fields and the sweet, sweet flowers,
And longed to be pure once again like them, in my better hours.
20
But after I first had fallen the devil opened my eyes,
And I saw that the world knew my shame, and I hadn't the heart to rise;
So I gave up trying to be good, and sank down lower in sin,
Tho' the thought of poor dead mother made me always hate it within.
Oh, many's the night that I've wandered about thro' rain and snow,
25
Wandered about in the street, and didn't know where had to go;
And I've often crept to the river and looked at it, still and black,
And thought how every one spurned me—but something held me back.
I remember how once, when I stopped, half-dead, one rainy day,
To rest on his steps for a moment, the servants drove me away;
30
Drove me away like a dog from the door of the man for whom,
O God! I had given up all in this world and beyond the tomb.
But don't weep at my story, good lady; I'm not worth it living or dead!
Ha, ha! I'm not frightened of Death, nor the devils that dance round my bed:
There cannot be any hell deeper nor fuller of devils and strife
35
Than the hell that burns in my heart, and the fire that eats out life.
poem by Frederick George Scott
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Poor Me
Woke up this mornin'
feeling low
where my love one used to live
she ain't there no more.
Poor me, why such bad luck fall on me?
Poor me, I'm livin' in misery
What I gonna do?
Hard to tell
Lord, I'm not going to kill myself
but I might as well
Poor me, I'm so lonely can't you see?
Poor me, I'm livin' in misery.
All I do
the whole day long
fall down on my knees and pray
you'll come back home.
Poor me, why such bad luck fall on me?
Poor me, I'm livin' in misery.
song performed by by Randy Newman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Lost Piece Of Silver
HOLY Lord Jesus, Thou wilt search till Thou find
This lost piece of silver,--this treasure enshrined
In casket or bosom, once of such store;
Now lying under the dust of Thy floor.
Gentle Lord Jesus, Thou wilt move through the room--
So empty--so desolate! and light up its gloom:
The lost piece of silver that no man can see,
Merciful Jesus! is beheld clear by Thee.
Defaced and degraded, trampled in the dust,
Its superscription Thou knowest still we trust:
And Thou wilt uplift it and make it re-shine,
For it was silver--pure silver of Thine.
Loving Lord Jesus, Thou wilt come through the dark,
When men are all sleeping and no eye can mark.
Though 'clean forgotten, like a dead man out of mind,'
This lost piece of silver Thou wilt search for--and find.
poem by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
His Pure Love
His pure love
was shown
that day
at calvary.
They didn't,
take away Jesus's
life that day,
He gave it freely.
A crown of thorns
was placed on His head
blood flowed down
His face that day.
He was guilty
of no crime,
only of the
pure love He gave away.
He was mocked
and shamed,
beaten with,
so many stripes.
His face was
so bloody that
day at calvary
He tried to carry,
His cross but so
weak to do it,
Simon Cyrene was,
compelled to bear
His cross.
Jesus came into this
world to show
us His pure love,
now He was to,
really show the
world His pure
love for us, Jesus
was nailed to the,
cross that day
suffering and dying
for the sins of the
world.
Every one thought
they had seen the
last of Jesus, but
3 days later, he arose
from the dead.
After showing Himself
to over 500 people, and
telling His disciples to
spread the gospel,
He was taken up and
a cloud received Him
out of their sight,
and that is what Easter
is all about.
(4-5-07/from parts of the four gospels
and Acts chapter one verse 9)
Faith vs. Doubt
Feed your faith and starve your doubt,
Confess the Lord Jesus with your mouth,
Praise His holy name with a shout,
Drive the demons of the devil out.
First and foremost read the word,
Speak it aloud to be sure it’s heard,
Don’t be like Peter starting to cuss & swear,
Tell the world you know Jesus is there.
Doubt is deceitful and doubt is doom,
Doubt is defeated and doubt is gloom,
Faith is victory and faith is success,
Faith is the word and it brings out the best.
Imagine the Colts or Steelers being 0 & 16,
Is it sinking in now, understand what I mean?
How about the New York Yankees at 0 & 162?
What other way can I make it clearer to you?
Faith is not something you buy and exchange,
God wants it permanently stamped on your brain,
D is for the devil that wants you to deny,
Satan is jealous he’s already lost eternal life.
Faith is a trait the devil can no longer possess,
He’s already been given and failed his test,
Satan doesn’t doubt God’s love being true,
This is why he’s trying so hard to defeat you.
He tried to overthrow the Commander In Chief,
Failing miserably Satan wants more to share his grief,
Sadly, too many don’t believe Narrow is the Gate,
And all you need to do is have God given faith.
poem by Luke Easter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Easter Parade
In your easter bonnet, with all the frills upon it,
Youll be the grandest lady in the easter parade.
Ill be all in clover and when they look you over,
Ill be the proudest fellow in the easter parade.
On the avenue, fifth avenue, the photographers will snap us,
And youll find that youre in the rotogravure.
Oh, I could write a sonnet about your easter bonnet,
And of the girl Im taking to the easter parade.
song performed by by Irving Berlin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Wickedness Within
There’s a wickedness deep within, causing many to stumble in sin,
For desperately wicked is our heart, and from it we cannot depart.
And who can know that inner part, down inside each human heart?
So to know the deepest thought; where all our actions are wrought.
With such a heart, beyond cure, can we, before Holy God endure?
For one day friend all will stand, before The Lord upon Holy Land.
And it is God, who has the cure, to help us with a heart that’s pure.
This if we take the time with Him, to reason together regarding sin.
With such a deceitful heart friend, separation from God is our end,
Compared to a Righteous God; who shall destroy sin with His rod,
The sin that sets all men apart, which stems from a deceitful heart.
But this can change by God’s Love, Grace and Mercy from above.
A brand new heart we shall receive, when in Christ we truly believe.
Our heart He cleanses of its dross, with the blood from the cross,
Purging us of our wickedness, through Jesus’ own Righteousness.
Through the blood of Jesus Christ, a wicked heart can see new life.
It’s the deceitfulness of our sin, that keeps us from accepting Him,
But, if we’d only reason with God, He’d lead us with staff and rod.
He’ll make our sin white as snow, when His Son we come to know,
Who shed His blood on Calvary, so we can live with God eternally.
(Copyright ©03/2007)
A Holy Week Song, 1918
Now when Christ died for man his sake
A myriad men must die;
His Via Crucis they must take
And share His Calvary.
God keep ye, gallant gentlemen,
Let nothing you dismay,
Who share Lord Jesus Christ His pain
Upon this Good Friday!
Now some shall turn and meet His gaze
And say, 'Remember me
When Thou art come to Thine own place
Where ransomed sinners be!'
God rest ye, gallant gentlemen,
For ye are bought with price,
This day there wends a shining train
The way to Paradise.
The day our Lord Christ lay in grave
The dead are piled so high
The field slow-moving like a wave
Sends up a mortal cry.
God love ye, gallant gentlemen,
Let nothing you dismay,
For life is born and Death is slain
Upon the Easter Day.
poem by Katharine Tynan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Suicide
The day I met you
I found a new life
But, little did I know
that love to me, would be like a suicide.
When I talked to you,
I felt as I was in paradise.
But, little did I know
that love to me, would be like a suicide.
I thought you loved me
N I could see it in your eyes.
But, little did I know
that love to me, would be like a suicide.
When I see you, I'm on cloud nine
And life seems all colorful and bright,
But, little did I know
that love to me, would be like a suicide.
I loved you, I fell for you
I thought that you would take me in your arms
and once again, make things right
But, little did I know
that love to me, would be like a suicide.
I trusted you and felt that you
were my 'Mr. Right'
But you left me alone in the dark
where my heart fought back for some light
Little did I know
that love to me, would be like a suicide.
The day you left me
was the day i finally realized,
that you were more precious than my life,
And now,
forgetting you would be harder than a
'SUICIDE'
poem by Disha Gada
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Easter Flower
Far from this foreign Easter damp and chilly
My soul steals to a pear-shaped plot of ground,
Where gleamed the lilac-tinted Easter lily
Soft-scented in the air for yards around;
Alone, without a hint of guardian leaf!
Just like a fragile bell of silver rime,
It burst the tomb for freedom sweet and brief
In the young pregnant year at Eastertime;
And many thought it was a sacred sign,
And some called it the resurrection flower;
And I, a pagan, worshiped at its shrine,
Yielding my heart unto its perfumed power.
poem by Claude McKay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I Go For Simplicity My Friend
i go for simplicity my friend
because i am poor
i do not go for sophistication
because i am poor
i do not complicate matters
because i am poor
i do not want you to misunderstand
because i am poor
i do not want you to think some more
because i am poor
i do not want to convince you
because i am poor
i do not want you to be with our side
because we are poor
i want all things in their simplified forms
because we cannot afford
any other form of convolutions
we cannot afford another revolution
it will be expensive
and we have no more years to give
to pay for the sponsors
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Suicide Suicide Suicide
Suicide is wishing I were dead
suicide is deep in my head,
suicide thoughts are cutting my wrists burning my ankles,
suicide my last tear dry, suicide.
I’m so done with this days I cry,
last tear dry suicide, suicide, suicide,
deep in my head suicide is because of my voices in my head,
suicide is the blur I see, suicide, is a feeling of someone there,
suicide suicide suicide,
now I’m almost dead turn out the lights and say goodnight
poem by Jessica Lee Workman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Living in recession
I can’t tell you right now
What I am feeling
But I can tell you one thing that nothing is going well
I saw a picture yesterday
Actually I didn’t understand that
Full of bright colors and lines
Most of them are broken
What all these pictures represent
Are they pure art!
Or some artists trying to fool us?
But the thing is that when I stared at the picture
I thought it represents my mind
Full of emotions (nothing relevant!)
Living in recession with your dreams is a stupid thing
You have to step out from your shoes
In order to live a normal life
But what is the relevance of life with out dreams
The second thing I thought yesterday was
Why do people commit suicide
Last month one of my friends hanged himself
In his suicide note he had written;
‘I want to defeat god’
Is it possible to defeat god (god the almighty)
But with my normal capacity I can say that
By committing suicide we are defeating god
(or do we defeat ourselves)
Living in recession is a bad thing
Like thinking about suicide.
poem by Pramod Sen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Food for Everyone
Sellers of food have a huge price,
And they eat from them from advice.
The restaurant is a race for the food,
A beautiful place for the meat barbecued.
I like the eating to be done in a fantastic place,
Where I love the taste in my head, no disgrace.
Love anything but do not eat the forbidden fruit,
So horrid it is of the devil to say, but we must be astute.
It is poverty that hides the food from poor people,
It is not the poor people who taste a life admirable.
Sellers of food must be paid, and poor is the person
Who can not afford, so he can not eat, unless he is in heaven.
Heaven is a place for food and drink,
Drink I take and health I doublethink.
Heaven has a drink for me.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Rich Man, Poor Man
When God looked down from Heaven's Throne to Job upon the Earth,
God saw Job's faith had fully grown and that this man had worth...
God told the Devil of this man, so righteous and so pure.
God said, 'He does the best he can, almost without a flaw...'
The Devil fumed and then replied, 'You made him rich, that's why!
How many times has that man sighed? He has no cause to cry! '
Then God let Satan smite Job's land and suffer for a while
And death was very near to hand... and poor Job lost his smile...
The Lord received Job's faithful praise, despite the tragic loss!
Job proved he loved the Lord always! That made the Devil cross!
'What say you now? ' the Lord remarked! But Satan argued still...
For he was livid, he was narked, 'What if I make him ill? '
So God agreed, 'But spare his life! ' So Satan went below
And Job fell ill, such that his wife saw skin boils start to grow...
'Why praise the Lord? Reject His love! ' But Job dismissed each word.
'I trust the Lord who dwells above! Rejection's quite absurd! '
Alas, poor Job conferred with friends, who said that he had sinned...
But Job had faith that never ends! Though he no longer grinned!
Through gritted teeth, he set them straight, 'Of what sin am I blamed?
Of every sin I've learned to hate! I sit here unashamed! '
Then God spoke loud and God spoke clear, of everything He'd made,
Both sun and moon, things far and near, so truth could be displayed.
A structured world to live upon, from valleys to snowflakes!
If rainbow-coloured lights are shone, then, oh, what joy, each makes!
Poor Job, he suffered all he could, yet now he'd seen God's face,
By faith, he'd done the things he should, yet Job was saved by grace!
By faith, not works, lest any boast, no matter, rich or poor...
In Christ, receive the Holy Ghost... You'll never want for more...
Denis Martindale, copyright, May 2011.
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Easter Bunny
Easter Bunny
Come in a hurry
I want my Easter egg
Easter Bunny
Please don't tarry
Remember what I said
Paint my egg blue
With little brushes too
And add a little red to it
'Cause I won't mind if you did
Put my egg in the basket
With a little red ribbon
Put it in your jacket
And bring it to London
poem by Jacqueline AntwiDanso
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!