Devotion 1678 Current Version
Devotion infinite persists,
as wellspring bright, delight unbroken,
lament turns triumph and insists
upon no brash explicit token.
Complicity may troubles soothe,
frost melt to foster brow unfurrowed,
unhappiness henceforth removed
no thorns, no storms, no dark caves burrowed.
Time slips away as one, eternal,
peerless, priceless, praise deserves,
pure light-in-darkness, blight infernal
must vanish, banished, joy reserves
its sweetmeats sumptious, sempiternal
as any history conserves.
Vivacious verses ever vernal,
voice vim, vitality and verve.
No need for praise pre-packaged, grooved,
gaze on these lines whose theme's unborrowed
from poets past who maidens moved
with melodies forgot unsorrowed.
Confusion fled, fusion consists
of tenderness overt, unspoken,
no place for graceless solipsists
narcissistic grief foretoken.
(25 January 2009)
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Devotion 1678 Initial Version
Devotion now, as then, persists,
as wellspring which may not be broken,
lament turns triumph and insists
upon a heartfelt love's sighed token.
Thus memory may troubles soothe,
prepare for future brow unfurrowed,
as hope and trust henceforth removed
all thorns, all storms, all dark caves burrowed.
Time slips away, yet one eternal
poetess all praise deserves,
who, light-in-darkness, all infernal
blocks spiting tocsin - never swerves
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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God’s Eternal Ways
The sun will rise and the sun will set, this my friend, is a sure bet.
For soon the day turns into night, and the sun will go out of sight.
Without any effort on man’s part, the light of day turns into dark.
But soon we see the morning skies, as again the sun begins to rise.
My friend, even in the sky at night, we can see above a lesser light.
Friend, so precise is God’s design that we use the moon to keep time.
For by watching each lunar phase, we can count off a month of days.
God’s ways are certain my friend, and on Him you can surely depend.
As you live through all your days, do you take note of His many ways?
For these are but two my friend, of His many ways, that have no end.
And all eternal are God’s ways, and God will receive Eternal Praise.
But as the sun does set and rise, man my friend, he lives and dies.
For God to receive man’s praise, man also, must have eternal days.
Though man received God’s Breath, sin brought upon man certain death.
However, through God’s Eternal ways, He lengthened man’s mortal days.
And through the death of Jesus Christ, man can inherit Eternal Life.
Soon we will need the moon no more, when we enter Eternity’s Door.
And there will be no more night and Christ The Lamb will be the Light.
Friend, time itself will be no more, as we live with Christ forevermore,
Living with Christ in Eternal Ways, while giving God Eternal Praise.
(Copyright ©11/2004)
Kiss You Again
Laughing, singing, dancing, enjoying life,
thanks for being so sweet and kind and
brilliant and shiny and inspiring, you are
a bright light unto me, thanks for contri-
buting to my passionate delight with life
Thanks for eternal moments of infinite
love, moments I relive in my life every
time I dance in the sun and sing with
the wind, pure light without spectral
lines, you became a godly being
In the prism of my mind, a pure golden
light of divine inspiration – come, let
me kiss you again…
poem by Louise Tredoux
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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JUSTIFY ABLY untitled PARODY ON arctic flow WeArs complicity
JUSTIFY ABLY untitled PARODY ON arctic flow WeArs complicity
do re me far so lad, tease do best unspoken
prosy candyfloss where slips spill trick
no bechstein tastes contours of yr hand
good taste seizes up, words fail
where the spell breaks, untaken,
where the data sinks, useless,
i fear yr name needs retuning
yr fate is uncertain
a loose place to drown
in-
dentured
to
zero
no spell is at work
dislikens
in
the
cold
vanish
bang!
Parody Michael BERNSTEIN 19xx_20xx 3 poems untitled, complicity, Artic flowers
18 January 2010
robi03_1949_robi03_0000 PVW_IMN
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII IIIIIIIIIIIIIII
untitled
eon, eon, lollipop
valley where the flames still lick
taste the contours of yr hand
where machines seize up and fail
where the spell hangs, unspoken
where the data sinks, useless
i hear yr name hum like a storm
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII
complicity
bird in the gutter
fell a hand
mesmeric windows
the wires all tapped
yr fate is uncertain
a loose place to drown
light up in yr tethers
the cold, ruddy sky
in tiny places
a spell is at work
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII
Artic flowers
bang!
lichens
in the
frost.
like
no
ges-
ture's
for
naught
remem-
bering
when
fall-
ing leaves
so gor-
geous
barely
hung
more
rockets to-
day, some-
where
my last
name pins
me
up
Artic flowers,
satellites
Orion bur-
ning
blind
light
rides
light
slums
tombs
in the
ice
dang-
lin strange,
wak-
ing Lakes
the Moon's
harpoon
i've
caught you
at it:
flying
when
the fog
grows
thick
there is
a place
w/
cold
to break
space,
spits the
morning
raw
chug!
the en-
gine.chug!
the breath,
in-
dentured
to zero
[cabin fever]
you stay
in
a lot
and weave
afghans
from blue
smoke
and cri-
ses
set in
snow-
flakes
wing the
bulls-
eye
heart
'from
a cold,
steel
rail',
three
birds dis-
solve
vanish
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Unbroken
Tomorrow is another day,
So don't let today stop you.
Tomorrow is unbroken,
Even if today is shattered,
If you want to know how this day could end,
Look upon tomorrow and you will see profection,
Tomorrow is unbroken.
A child in the womb is another heart,
So don't let them fall before their time,
The unborn are unbroken,
Even if the people here are wrong,
If you want to see who they become,
Look upon everyone and you shall see change,
Unborn are unbroken.
Teens are another body,
So don't let them free before they are ready,
They are unbroken,
Even if some are lost,
If you want to keep them whole,
Look at them and show them the way,
While they are still unbroken.
Moonlight is just another light,
So don't shut it out,
It is unbroken,
Even if the surface of the water is moved.
If you want to see the man on the moon,
Open the window and gaze upon it,
For it shall always be unbroken.
poem by Bethany Maxwell
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Unbroken
(holly lamar, annie roboff)
How I ever lived and breathed before you loved me, I dont recall
If I walked around at all, it was in bits and pieces
Of a jagged heart
You kissed me and every piece went back in place, every pain got erased
You held me up to the light
No one ever left me out in the rain
Cold words still remain unspoken
And I never got lost, spent years in the dark
Youre here, now my hearts unbroken
When I see your smile fill my soul again
Im unbroken
If I doubted the power of love, baby now I understand
I thank God for every day I wake up to the soft touch
Of your magic hands
In this world sometimes the only thing thats real is the way you make me feel
Babe, the changes day and night
I swear its life
No one ever left me out in the rain
Cold words still remain unspoken
And I never got lost, spent years in the dark
Youre here, now my hearts unbroken
When I see your smile fill my soul again
Im unbroken
I still see the night, I fell into your eyes
And when we made love it felt like the first time
No one ever left me out in the rain
Cold words still remain unspoken
And I never got lost, spent years in the dark
Youre here, now my hearts unbroken
When I see your smile fill my soul again
Im unbroken
When I see your smile fill my soul again
Im unbroken
Im unbroken, oh yeah
Im unbroken
No one ever left me out in the rain
Cold words still remain unspoken
And I never got lost, spent years in the dark
Youre here, now my hearts unbroken
When I see your smile fill my soul again
Im unbroken
song performed by by Tim McGraw
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Praise, My Soul, the King of Heaven
Praise, my soul, the King of Heaven;
To His feet Thy tribute bring!
Ransomed, healed, restored, forgiven,
Who like me His praise should sing?
Praise Him! praise Him!
Praise the everlasting King!
Praise Him for His grace and favour,
To our fathers in distress!
Praise Him still the same for ever,
Slow to chide, and swift to bless!
Praise Him! praise Him!
Glorious in His faithfulness!
Father-like, He tends and spares us;
Well our feeble frame He knows.
In His hands He gently bears us,
Rescues us from all our foes,
Praise Him! praise Him!
Widely as His mercy flows!
Frail as summer's flower we flourish:
Blows the wind, and it is gone.
But while mortals rise and perish,
God endures unchanging on.
Praise Him, Praise Him,
Praise the high eternal One!
Angels, help us to adore Him;
Ye behold Him face to face:
Sun and moon, bow down before Him;
Dwellers all in time and space,
Praise Him! praise Him!
Praise with us the God of grace!
poem by Henry Francis Lyte
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Praise Ye the Triune God
Praise ye the Father! For his loving-kindness,
Tenderly cares he for his erring children;
Praise him, ye angels, praise him in the heavens,
Praise ye Jehovah!
Praise ye the Spirit! Great is his compassion,
Graciously cares he for his chosen people;
Young men and maidens, ye old men and children,
Praise ye the Savior!
Praise ye the Spirit! Comforter of Israel,
Sent of the Father and the Son to bless us;
Praise ye the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit,
Praise ye the triune God!
poem by Elizabeth Rundle Charles (1858)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Emotional Food Chain
Anger eats Balanced
Balanced eats Confusion
Confusion eats Delight
Delight eats Exasperation
Exasperation eats Forgiveness
Forgiveness eats Grief
Grief eats Humor
Humor eats Isolation
Isolation eats Joy
Joy eats Knottiness
Knottiness eats Love
Love eats Moodiness
Moodiness eats Nicety
Nicety eats Outrage
Outrage eats Peace
Peace eats Quick-temperament
Quick-temperament eats Righteousness
Righteousness eats Stupidity
Stupidity eats Trust
Trust eats Unhappiness
Unhappiness eats Vitality
Vitality eats Weariness
Weariness eats X-citement
X-citement eats Yawn
Yawn eats Zest
Zest eats Anger
poem by Champs Ulysses Cabinatan
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Couplets In Praise
Poet of love, I sing here my whole soul to you.
Ah, might I all deeds dare, love would I prove to you.
Make I at least your praise, chaplet of sunny verse,
Each dear delight of your told to the universe.
Let me your sweetnesses, O child, enumerate.
All the proud wealth of you Love shall remunerate.
``Glory to God,'' I sigh each time I gaze at you.
Eyes that have wept all night thrill in amaze at you.
Night in your dark hair sleeps, caught in the net of it,
Emblem how dear of dreams pure as the jet of it.
Valiant joy crowns your brow, stainless its ivory.
Incense your sweet lips breathe, rose--red their livery.
Earth has no part in you. Yet do your eyes to--night
Vanquish all Earth for me, wise in their wise delight.
Evening and morning still watch your feet shod with dew,
Answering praise and prayer, fearless, your God with you.
Dare to delight our souls steeped in love's tenderness.
Earn us a wage of joy saved from the wilderness.
Lo, how my heart leaps up new life inheriting.
Armed for the fight am I, all your praise meriting.
Idly if I have lived, now am I glorious,
Daring all deeds for you, yours and victorious.
Empires shall bend and break; kingdoms shall crumble down.
Wise men shall bow the knee; wise ones look humble down.
You are the cause of it. Only your name it is
Nerves me to fight the fight stern with life's vanities.
Die! Ay, to die for you, foremost in rivalry,
Heroes to dig my grave: that were true chivalry.
All lovers there should sing, all who had wit any,
Mourn me and weep with you. Here ends my litany.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Farewell To Miss E. B.
(Written in her sixteenth year.)
Farewell, and whenever calm solitude's hour,
Shall silently spread its broad wings o'er your bower,
Oh! then gaze on yon planet, yon watch-fire divine,
And believe that my soul is there mingling with thine.
When the dark brow of evening is beaming with stars,
And yon crest of light clouds is the turban she wears,
When she walks forth in grandeur, the queen of the night,
Oh! then think that my spirit looks on with delight.
O'er the ocean of life our frail vessels are bounding,
And danger and death our dark pathway surrounding;
Destruction's bright meteors are dancing before,
And behind us the winds of adversity roar.
Oh! then come, let us light friendship's lamp on the wave,
If we're lost, it will shed its pure light o'er the grave,
Or 't will guide to the haven of Heaven at last,
And beam on when the voice of the trumpet hath past.
poem by Lucretia Maria Davidson
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Quiet Before The Storm
Just as the quiet before the storm, life can take on a similar form,
In time of quietness and peace, a storm of life can be unleashed;
An interruption within one’s life, bringing also, unwelcomed strife,
Even though a trial may be brief, it can bring much pain and grief.
We hear thunder from afar, with lighting bright, as an evening star,
Striking to all, not just a spark, an immense bolt piercing the dark;
We may see a sign in our home, of a trial, which we may bemoan,
Sure enough, in a time ahead, are problems, anyone would dread.
A storm cannot be hindered by, anything below the darkened sky,
The wrath of a storm will be poured, just as ordered, by The Lord;
Even so, trials to all will come, regardless of where they are from,
Allowed into the believer’s life, by the providence of Jesus Christ.
Just as the storm rolls away, and then the darkness turns to gray,
And soon the sun is again in sight, as all that gray turns into light;
We too, can see light at the end, of our dark trial, my dear friend,
As that dark trial is lifted from us, when in Christ, we put our trust.
Trials like storms will affect all, some will be big, others are small,
But all are sent by God’s design, to mold us in this temporal time,
Fitting us for the Lord’s Kingdom, when trials will no longer come,
Time far beyond the Crystal Sea, with God in a storm free eternity.
(Copyright ©07/2009)
The Singer
Dim light
Hope bright
Standing with the slow beat
Gaze locked at the corner
Every word echoes in sweet note
Lust infected sanity
Dim light
Hope bright
The air embraces the look
Swept by the smooth shape
Wrapped in limited fine yarn
Singing in tenderness
Dim light
Hope bright
Step closer in faint smile
Shiver in delight reaching out
Tease to dance as it came
Left the rest in a hurry
Dim light
Hope bright
The love and the romance
Holding passion incessantly
Universe melt to nothing
So the song end… but not the dream
poem by Niken Kusuma Wardani
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Workmen's March
Left foot! Right foot! Lines unbroken!
Keeping time is power's token.
That makes
one
of many, many,
That makes bold, if fear daunts any,
That makes small the load and lighter,
That makes near the goal and brighter,
Till it greets us gained with laughter,
And we seek the next one after.
Left foot! Right foot! Lines unbroken!
Keeping time is power's token.
Marching, marching of few hundreds,
No one heeds it, never one dreads;
Marching, marching of few thousands,
Here and there wakes some to hearing;
Marching, marching hundred thousands,-
All will mark that thunder nearing.
Left foot! Right foot! Lines unbroken!
Keeping time is power's token.
Let us march all, never weaken
Time from Vardö down to Viken,
Vinger up to Bergen's region,-
Let us make
one
marching legion,
Then we'll rout some wrong from Norway,
Open wide to right the doorway.
poem by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson
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All ye nations, praise the Lord,
All ye nations, praise the Lord,
All ye lands your voices raise;
Heaven and earth with loud accord,
Praise the Lord, for ever praise.
For his truth and mercy stand,
Past, and present, and to be,
Like the years of his right hand,
Like his own eternity.
Praise Him, ye who know his love;
Praise Him from the depth beneath;
Praise Him in the heights above;
Praise your Maker, all that breathe.
poem by James Montgomery
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rejoice Within
Even in the darkest of days, from our heart, The Lord we can praise,
From the beginning to the very end, we can be truly thankful friend.
Even when all seems to go wrong, Jesus has placed in us His Song,
That from our heart we can raise, joyfully up to The Lord His praise.
As you journey upon this earth, Christ fills you with song and mirth.
And we can praise Him, for who He is, as we ponder Eternal Bliss,
For all this darkness will not last, and soon it will be in eternity past.
And as the darkness is no more, we’ll be eternally praising The Lord.
Christ fills us with a joy and peace, which in our trials will not cease.
Friend, from The Spirit living inside, flows a joy that we can not hide.
This joy inside is not from earth, but from Heaven through New Birth.
It’s a joy that sets Believers apart, putting Eternal Peace in our heart.
Friend, all the praise from within, comes not from us but is from Him,
You too can have this peace within, for Christ also died for your sin.
Yes my friend, Christ died for you, Christ died to give you life anew.
You can have New Life in Christ, as His death for you is Eternal Life.
Together we can give God praise, as we look forward to Eternal Days.
Today if you make that Eternal choice, you will friend, forever rejoice.
Rejoice my friend, in The Lord, and then receive an Eternal Reward.
Today is the day you can begin, to live for Christ and rejoice within.
Thus Spoke Sister Sarah Two Step
Oh mensch! Gieb acht!
Oh man! Take heed!
from, 'Zarathustra's Rundgesand'
by Friedrich Nietzche
Hey man! Catch ny drift!
Listen deep!
Catch a Midnight's Voice
Piquancy
'I've done my time
paid all my dues
And now's my right
come I to sue'
'Infinite is the world
beyond what I can say
Infinite is it's woe
but light be there everyday'
'And darkness has a say to play
far from the darkest misery of it's land
To the lightness eternal of it's day
there Joy and Eternal step hand in hand'
poem by Midnights Voice
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In The Mornin
In the mornin'
When my feet hit the floor,
I will praise Him.
Yes I,
Praise Him.
In the mornin'
When I walk out my door,
I praise Him.
Yes I,
Praise Him.
When I praise Him I keep motivated.
And my heart is elevated!
Shaking trouble makers away.
When I praise Him I know He's my Savior,
Saving me from bad behavior.
And those who bait that hate,
Wont spoil my flavor.
In the mornin'
When I'm yawning at dawn,
I praise Him.
Yes I,
Praise Him.
In the mornin'
I've got faith so strong.
'Cause I'm blessed to know that God is with me,
All day long!
In the mornin'
When my feet hit the floor,
I will praise Him.
Yes I,
Praise Him.
In the mornin'
When I walk out my door,
I praise Him.
Yes I,
Praise Him.
Oh yes I,
Praise Him.
Yes I,
Praise Him.
Oh yes I...
Praise Him.
Yes I,
Praise Him!
Oh yes I...
Praise Him.
In the mornin'
When I walk out my door,
I praise Him.
Yes I,
Praise Him.
And dedicated
'To my 'Roots'.
I keep re-booted! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Thanksgiving
When first in ancient time, from Jubal's tongue
The tuneful anthem filled the morning air,
To sacred hymnings and elysian song
His music-breathing sehll the minstrel woke.
Devotion breathed aloud from every chord:
The voice of praise was heard in every tone,
And prayer and thanks to Him, the Eternal One,
To Him, that with bright inspiration touched
The high and gifted lyre of heavenly song,
And warmed the soul with new vitality.
A stirring energy through Nature breathed:
The voice of adoration from her broke,
Swelling aloud in every breeze, and heard
Long in the sullen waterfall, what time
Soft Spring or hoary Autumn threw on earth
Its bloom or blighting; when the summer smiled;
Or winter o'er the year's sepulcher mourned.
The Deity was there; a nameless spirit
Moved in the breasts of men to do him homage;
And when the morning smiled, or evening pale
Hung weeping o'er the melancholy urn,
They came beneath the broad, o'erarching trees,
And in their tremulous shadow worshipped oft,
Where pale the vine clung round their simple altars,
And gray moss mantling hung. Above was heard
The melody of winds, breathed out as the green trees
Bowed to their quivering touch in living beauty;
And birds sang forth their cheerful hymns. Below,
The bright and widely wandering rivulet
Struggled and gushed amongst the tangled roots
That choked its reedy fountain, and dark rocks
Worn smooth by the constant current. Even there
The listless wave, that stole with mellow voice
Where reeds grew rank on the rushy-fringed brink,
And the green sedge bent to the wandering wind,
Sang with a cheerful song of sweet tranquillity.
Men felt the heavenly influence; and it stole
Like balm into their hearts, till all was peace:
And even the air they breathed, the light they saw,
Became religion; for the ethereal spirit
That to soft music wakes the chords of feeling,
And mellows everything to beauty, moved
With cheering energy within their breasts
And made all holy there, for all was love.
The morning stars, that sweetly sang together;
The moon, that hung at night in the mid-sky:
Dayspring and eventide; and all the fair
And beautiful forms of nature, had a voice
Of eloquent worship. Ocean, with its tides
Selling and deep, where low the infant storm
Hung on his dun, dark cloud, and heavily beat
The pulses of the sea, sent forth a voice
Of awful adoration to the spirit
That, wrapt in darkness, moved upon its face.
And when the bow of evening arched the east,
Or, in the moonlight pale, the curling wave
Kissed with a sweet embrace the sea-worn beach,
And soft the song of winds came o'er the waters,
The mingled melody of wind and wave
Touched like a heavenly anthem on the ear;
For it arose a tuneful hymn of worship.
And have our hearts grown cold? Are there on earth
No pure reflections caught from heavnly light?
Have our mute lips no hymn, our souls no song?
Let him thatin the summer-day of youth
Keeps pure the holy fount of youthful feeling,
And him that in the nightfall of his years
Lies down in his last sleep, and shuts in peace
His dim, pale eyes on life's short wayfaring,
Praise Him that rules the destiny of man.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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For an unnamed teacher
You know that shot, in films and musicals
glamorising La Révolution Francaise:
a hundred metres away, just fitting into
the camera’s breadth of range,
a crowd which signifies rights withheld
advances on you (safe in bourgeois seat…) ,
led by a token handsome, flushed, tall
kerchiefed man or woman, centre-stage?
Today, that’s me – in upraised hand,
a Bill of Poets’ Rights… You said,
I’m told, that ‘if you were a poet,
you would just write praise…’
Do I detect a note
of implied criticism there? …
Did you not know, that every word that poets write
is praise? First, praise of the language that we use –
its glorious flexibility; praise of the chance to use it
at its height and breadth and depth,
freshly - as if it had never put before
this word with that, and made of it new thought
to lodge within your mind, and warm your heart,
to call from soul to soul, of what souls share…
Advancing on the camera, we shout,
if you don’t know this - that all that, is praise…
then you’re not ready for reading poetry, just yet…
‘For this we stand; for this we live; for this we’ll die’…
The photo-opportunity has come and gone;
the cameramen push back, drive to their editors;
the crowd disperses, glowing with its righteousness;
and leaves the world to darkness, and TV…
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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