Behind the Poem: Enoch
Now that people are becoming more aware of my poetic efforts, interests are being expressed regarding the background of my poetry - in addition, to my spiritual muse. In this installment, I speak to a poem that ends in a direction, not initially considered...
I've attended Church services for more than 3.5 decades; as a youth, I was raised in a Baptist Church (in southern Maine) . For those unfamiliar with this division of Christianity, there's nothing more important than studying 'The Word of God'. And hear me - there is nothing inherently wrong with studying the Bible; it's one of those necessities as a Christian. And for me personally, it just wasn't enough. As much as I love The Word, having a real and personal relationship with Jehovah became more obvious and critical for my spiritual growth. Eventually, I found my way into the Pentecostal Church, got filled with the Holy Spirit and learned to speak in tongues. Accepting this gift (of tongues) raised my ability to build my relationship with Christ. In effect, it significantly improved the way I'm able to give praises to God and to talk with Him. I share this background information to give a flavor of my thought process (that influences my spiritual writings) - and not as a criticism for those who have not accepted this gift from God. (People who have read my poetry should readily agree that it's fairly evident that my writing is based on the Scriptures and does not contradict the basic tenets of the Christian faith.)
In order to remain within my profession of I.T. (Information Technology) , I've had to relocate to different U.S. states on the east coast. So I found myself living in southern Connecticut for about a decade. For more than three years, I attended this popular Church in Milford. Despite my own 'baggage', I was a productive Christian, giving my time, talent, tithe and offerings to the Church freely and whole-heartedly. As a result, I started to dream of how I could give more of myself to Him - to be able to give my entire life for God's purposes (as He intends for everyone) . My poetry manuscript was completed and blindly rejected by the Church - the clergy was not interested or curious about the 'Christian poetry' I had written. Undeterred, I had already started working on additional poetry manuscripts. Wanting more of Christ in my life, fascination with Enoch began to grow at this time; very little about him is shared in the Bible and I never thought to research him on the Internet. The pages of my Bible are written upon with notes, concepts and ideas as I studied The Word and listened to sermons throughout the years. And yet, I noticed how little commentary about Enoch was known to me in my notes. What did Enoch know that the rest of us fail to understand? At the beginning of the Wednesday evening service, parishoners are allowed to submit questions - to be addressed directly by the bishop, prior to the evening service. I had begun assembling my poem fragments and phrases, but had not started the construction of the poem itself. So one night I submitted a simple question: 'Why don't we know more about Enoch's life? '
I've come to learn that preachers are fickle creatures; they claim to be 'dead men' - people who are unoffendable when interacting with less knowledgeable individuals in spiritual matters. And yet, with my analytical brain and decades of Church experience, I naturally rub minsters against their grain. After all, 'iron sharpens iron' and my words catch on their spiritual burrs - which is something that ministers typically don't fully appreciate when dealing with me. My innocent submission uncovered an overly sensitive nerve, quickly made apparent by the bishop's unrighteous reaction to my inquiry. Instead of answering my question in a positive and forthright manner, he exploded into a contrite diatribe 'of how I suffered from an escapist's mentality'. Naturally I was unimpressed with his carnal response and came to the immediate conclusion that he didn't have a viable response. I'm fairly sure that this event wasn't lost on the congregation either; for when someone avoids answering a direct question, people can easily draw their own conclusions. When the time came for me to compose this poem, the minister's words were still grinding on my spirit - thus setting the tone of this work. Although different from my other poems, I can't say that I'm disappointed with the ending of my poem, given the actions of Christ's dealings with the Pharisees and Saducees. If anything, I've followed His earthly example. This poem is my reaction to the bishop's inability to provide me with a solution that I had sought.
P.S. Although there are other people who never experienced death, such as Elijah, who was taken to heavenly in a fiery chariot, Enoch was essentially snatched away by the 'Hand of God', so that 'he was no more'. No other documentation exists, that details those who prevented their physical death in this particular way.
poem by Joseph James Breunig 3rd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Behind the Poem: Enjoy This Season
Now that people are becoming more aware of my poetic efforts, interests are being expressed regarding the background of my poetry - in addition, to my spiritual muse. In this installment, I share a blurb regarding my poem 'Enjoy This Season'.
Lots of people like to surmise about the idea of living in a different period of recorded humanity, such as: Italy's Renaissance (circa 1400-1600 ad) , the building of the Greek or Roman Empires, the time of Christ and so forth. However, not me. Being an I.T. (Information Technology) professional in this 'Age of Information' with available technologies - specifically 'Personal Computers' and the Internet allowing me access to gobs of data - can be a real and surreal 'head trip'. For I've learned how to glean concepts from the experience of others; such an ability is helping me to learn to dream and redefine my personal journey. After all, we are instructed in the Bible that 'we're to be more than conquerors' and thus live a Christian lifestyle successfully. Hence the rub...
Like everyone else, I'm uniquely defined. So expect that your results will also vary. In the Scriptures, one of the many analogies to describe mankind is 'withering grass'. When compared to the centuries of mankind, one's existence is brief; however, it doesn't need to be invisible. With the tools and information presently at our fingertips, we can learn to develop vision and ultimately uncover the 'unseen things of God'. So in my desire to want more of Jehovah's presence in my life, I became more vulnerable - in a spiritual sense. As a result, I lost my joy; I lost it because I didn't recognize how important a commodity joy is. It took years to recognize what had transpired. And it took more years of internal fighting (with myself) and prayer to get it back. While attending Church for decades, I was familar with the idiom 'The joy of the Lord is my strength.'; its importance was only revealed once it was gone. Feel free to learn from my mistake and avoid the associated pain.
It had never been my life's desire to publish a book, as with some people. Writing poetry became my personal therapy sessions for reclaiming my joy; an insight that was realized once I reviewed my accomplishment in retrospect. Although a portion of my joy has been restored, I still have more work ahead of me. And more serious challenges are now in view.
One of my dearest friends, Norman J. Richard Jr., died earlier this year (August 19th) . One of his favorite quotes was: 'Do something, even if it's wrong! '. As some of you may guess, he was unquestionably a man of action. In addition, he fiercely loved life, his family, and friends - and he did so with an overflowing river of joy. Not only was he a member of 'my inner circle', but he was one of the few who truly encouraged me to pursue the goal of getting my poetry published. By the way he lived, he also showed me that I would be able to ultimately recapture my joy completely. So back in August of 2008, after spending quality time with Norman, I wrote this simple poem of encouragement for myself. And it's my desire that others can also find encouragement for themselves, during their times of difficulty.
poem by Joseph James Breunig 3rd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sex & The Church
Though the idea of compassion
Is said to be
The union of christ
And his bride, the christian
Its all very puzzling
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
And the church
And the church
All the great mystic religions
Put strong emphasis, on
Redeame this spiritual qualities
Of sex of sex
Chrstianity
Has been pretty modern
About sex
Of sex of sex of sex of sex
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex sex
I think there is a union
Between the flesh and the spirit
Its sex and the church
Sex and the church
All religions mother
Give me youre freedom of spirit
And the joys of the flesh
Of sex sex sex and the church
Give me youre freedom of spirit
And the joys of the flesh
Of sex sex sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
And the church
And the church
Sex sex
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex sex
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
And the church
And the church
Sex sex
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex sex
Sex
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex sex
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
In Remembrance of Grandma - Poem & Background
Now that people are becoming more aware of my poetic efforts, interests are being expressed regarding the background of my poetry - in addition, to my spiritual muse. In this installment, I share the background and poem 'In Remembrance of Grandma'.
I recognize that most of you reading this article will not know much about my maternal Grandmother, other than what you're able to glean from this page. However, there are universal lessons that need to be shared. This poem was originally written for her funeral.
For nearly forty years, I was blessed to have known my grandparents; blessed - because many people don't have the opportunity to know their family history personally from those who came before them. Within about one decade, mine were all gone - with my maternal grandmother being the last one to die. Of the four of them, I had spent the most time with her. My grandmother had moved to Portland, Maine; this came about as the result of two significant events in her life. First, her husband Al Massa died unexpectedly; second, her oldest daughter (and my mom) had gone through a divorce. So they decided to purchase a home jointly and move on with their lives. Also living with them was my aunt Tina, my mother's younger sister.
My grandmother was an intelligent woman; she was one of those people who completed the New York Times crossword puzzles - in ink and usually in under an hour. And she grew some of the most beautiful roses in her tiny backyard. It was wonderful to see the joy in her eyes when it came to her flowers. The problem was that she was heart-broken when Al passed away; for decades they would go dancing at night, just to hold one another more often. With him gone, she stopped living for herself. Less than a year from his retirement, her husband died on the picket line at work. Although I can only imagine her grief, it was difficult to see the affects of this tragedy slowly eat away at her soul. She rarely left her home, with the exception of going to Church, the grocery store or some of the neighbors' homes a few times during the month. She and Al were to go to Hawaii for a second honeymoon, but she could not bear to go there without him. In The Word, we are essentially reminded that 'people without vision perish' (and yes, I know that there are variations of interpretation of this concept) . Despite our ability to absorb pain, we must learn to move forward in life and not let the pain consume us.
For many years, she smoked cigarettes and was unwilling to give them up. She did so eventually; my mother moved out of their house, Tina got married; she and her husband lived with my grandma. Tina and husband Greg started their own family, raising three boys - thus giving her the incentive to quit. As most everyone knows, smoking increases one's risk of having cancer. My family were under the impression that she had managed to escape the misery of that disease. Less than two weeks from her death was when most of the family learned that she had contracted cancer and emphysema.
Although I understand and appreciate the need for privacy, it was selfish of my grandmother not to share the condition of her health. Her justification for not telling anyone, was that she had decided not to go through with the cancer treatment. By not telling us, she figured that no one would be given the opportunity to dissuade her from her decision. After all, it was her decision (and rightfully so) . Before she died, Tina started quickly gathering information about cancer - to better learn about what to expect regarding the few remaining days of her mother's life. One cancer brochure shocked her; as a result of reading the material, she was now having to deal with guilt. This particular pamphlet laid out symptoms and patterns of human behavior of those suffering from this fatal disease - stuff that Tina had observed, but never realized the meaning of until it was too late. So in effect, my grandmother caused her family more pain by not sharing. In addition, not everyone who cared about her, had enough time to say good-bye (while she was alive) .
Although I had time to compose this brief poem in her honor, I did not have enough time to process my grandmother's death fully (prior to the service) . I was supposed to read the following poem and share a few words. To my surprise, I was choked up with immense grief, which kept me from delivering my eulogy; my wife kindly stepped in and presented the poem. One of my brothers was extremely upset for my inability to talk on behalf of my grandmother; so he spoke on my family's behalf. It's one of my few regrets in life; however, she was the only grandparent of mine that got to read my poetry manuscript. Less than two months before her death, she had taken time read my poetry and was pleasantly pleased with my efforts. During her appraisal of my work was the first time I learned that she wrote poetry - as of today, I've never gotten to read a line of poetry that she wrote. So it breaks my heart not to know what she composed, as well as not being able to share any more of my writing with her. And so here is my tribute for her...
In Remembrance of Grandma
A manicured garden
of colored, cultured roses
now goes untended.
For Marguerite has been freed
of all mortal constraint;
left behind
is a silver trowel
and dancing shoes,
as her spirit flies
to the Hawaiian shore
for pirouetting barefoot
on the seashell sand.
Goodbye Grandma Massa; I miss you already.
(18 June 2006)
poem by Joseph James Breunig 3rd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Behind the Poem: Game Theory
Now that people are becoming more aware of my poetic efforts, interests are being expressed regarding the background of my poetry - in addition, to my spiritual muse. Back in the Spring of 1980, I graduated from the University of Southern Maine with a B.A. in Mathematics. I chose this discipline because it was my favorite subject in school. This poem is the first and only piece (to date) , where I apply this learned knowledge.
Back in February of 2007, I found a poetry contest - its challenge was to compose a poem using mathematical terminology. And of course, it still had to make sense. After mulling over the idea for a short while, I recalled the topic of 'Game Theory'. Game Theory is a branch of applied math - its application is focused on the Social Sciences, most notably economics, as well as: Computer Science, Political Science, Biology, Engineering and International Relations. The primary purpose behind Game Theory is to capture behavior in strategic situations, whereby an individual's success is determined by choices that depend on the choices of others. Game Theory was initially developed to analyze competitions, in which one person does better at the expense of another. This concept is also known as a 'Zero Sum Game'. Most traditional applications attempt to find equilibria within this ideal. In an equilibrium, each player looks to adopt a stable strategy to gain positive results.
Growing up under the influence of the Church, I learned how Mankind lost his authority over the Earth. Satan, having been thrown out of heaven with a third of the angels, now pitted himself against God. He believes that he can defeat God by killing and dominating His creation of Man. So from a spiritual perspective, we must learn to make choices and live with the eventual outcome. God's desire is for all of us to live successful Christian lives - for we are 'blessed to be a blessing to others'; therefore, we must be able to recognize and overcome the pitfalls of our earthly journey - by applying Jehovah's spiritual principles to everyday living. One of our greatest gifts is the ability to choose - so chose wisely, for there will always be some consequence that's not always readily evident.
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http: //www.squidoo.com/book-isbn-1419650513/
poem by Joseph James Breunig 3rd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Making Poetry
Why did I make a poem?
It's more than you can imagine
It's not about black or white
Because the power of poetry that I'm dumbfounded
Look at the whole Bible, everything is poetry {not, but a holy book down from Allah is the truth}
Abstract ideas of science are all from the poem
Idealism actual human life is poetry
I'm just trying to be honest...
Creating poetry for me is more than anything
Not me want to be Jesus or Muhammad {but imitate their pious}
But I do not know what my purpose {paradise}
Only the most important is to produce poetry
I just write from the unreal world
Introduce something to people here
Are they willing to accept it or not does not matter
Since the poetry of the poem is the image of eternity
Who continue to fly and only revealed to the seeker
Poetry for me is more important than life
More important than my beloved
More important than my brother
Because the poem can represent any
Why did I make a poem?
When you reject the poem in your life
It has a form of poem to poem
Actually you can not escape from poetry
But you did not realize it, be aware of?
Indeed the poem is really real
Do you not believe how strong poetry
Look at all the countries in the world today
All poems must have an ideology
Ideology of all States is poetry
Do you still deny its power?
From now on, deep down consider
The poem is more than just blank words without the influence
(30 April 2002)
poem by Irvan Hermawan Saichu
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Behind the Poem: Spiritual Irony
Now that people are becoming more aware of my poetic efforts, interests are being expressed regarding the background of my poetry - in addition, to my spiritual muse. In this installment, I briefly look at the crucifixion of Christ - an event central to the core beliefs of Christianity. This poem was composed in February 2007, in anticipation of that year's celebration of Resurrection Sunday (Easter) .
If I were relegated to a single television channel, it would be the 'History Channel'. It's amazing to witness the variety of programming on this one station; I love the many shows presented, especially 'The Building of an Empire' series. Learning about the struggles of mankind, whether against people, weather or circumstance, is truly fascinating to me. Seeing ideas and concepts from the Egyptian and Roman empires really touch my spirit, having causally learned about them throughout 'The Word' in various Bible pasages. To see the re-eanactments of cultures, coupled with their accomplishments and reasonings, creates 'paradigm shifts' in my thinking and increases my ability to learn and retain new information.
At a young age, I taught myself to recognize lessons from others' experiences, which can be categorized as: good, bad or neutral. We all know that life can be hard; however, times during the Roman civilization was outright brutal. The Persians were the first group of people to practice crucifixion, a torture methodology improved upon by the Romans, after learning about it from the Carthaginians. Part of the Roman culture was the ideal of efficiency. Although they are notorious for their bloodsport, as witnessed by the cruelty displayed in the games of the Coliseum, the Romans were in the business of building an empire. However, in order to support their culture, they needed and wanted productive citizens. After all, productive citizens can be taxed and the money is then used for constructing the infrastructures required to support society (in general) . So the Roman government used the cruelest method of torture available for one simple reason - to stop and prevent crime against its citizenry.
In the Word, we are instructed that the ways of Jehovah 'are higher than our ways'. With God's ability to transcend time and His wisdom surpassing the knowledge of our own revelations, we will always be behind Him in our understanding of this World. Meanwhile the preaching of The Cross is considered to be foolishness by those who reject the gift of Salvation. However, given the current explosion of earthly knowledge, it's interesting to look back at history with understanding recently achieved. [Please note: I'm not going into the gory details of crucifixion; others have provided more qualified details on this subject. Nor will I focus on who killed Him. So, it's 'safe' to continue reading...]
One of the facts regarding the human body, is that we each (on average) contain eight pints of blood. The number eight has a spiritual significance, in that it represents the concept of 'new beginnings', as first seen in Noah's ark. [Eight people were present - Noah, three sons and their four wives.] Also modern studies about crucifixion have shown that part of the stress the body endures is that the heart literally 'breaks apart'. So from my spiritual perspective, the death of Christ on the Cross is truly representative of a holy sacrifice, whereby the shedding of His innocent blood fully implies that a 'new beginning' between God and Man has been initiated. In effect, Christ was the Earth's first blood donor when he was crucified - for He was wounded for the World's transgressions. His dying from a broken heart re-enforces the idea of God's continuing Love towards us, for Christ willingly and freely accepted His role to die on our behalf - in the worst possible way (known to mankind at that time) . Concentrating on these concepts allowed me to create this effective poem, while I envisioned the irony of this one event (from heaven's perspective) .
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http: //www.squidoo.com/book-isbn-1419650513/
poem by Joseph James Breunig 3rd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Churched People
Many unconverted religious people, gather together under a steeple,
They gather in the church below, but how much of it is just for show?
Each week religiously on one day, they meet together kneel and pray.
How much does it change their ways, as they live the other six days?
Weekly as they are churched, how often are the Scriptures searched?
Does the church change their heart, as service ends and they depart?
Getting back to the daily grind, does it influence their heart and mind?
There are followers of Christianity, and there are those in Churchianity.
Is their belief just a weekly thing, as hypocritical people gather to sing?
For most do not live what they sing, after leaving their church building.
Do these men practice Churchianity, when all week they use profanity?
It makes unbelievers question why, they should even give church a try.
If it’s God’s Church, you will know, as spiritual changes begin to show.
For as Christ starts a change within, He begins to purge your daily sin.
Sad to say that many are deceived, even when they think they believe,
For their belief is in an institution; one that doesn’t have a real solution.
The only real solution is Jesus Christ, for anyone to truly have new life,
For if one believes only in their head, they shall remain spiritually dead.
Jesus Christ spoke much about this; with the man know as Nicodemus,
Jesus said you must be Born Again, if you’re to see the Kingdom friend.
Today a church has no eternal worth, if it does not preach on New Birth.
When you know Christ in your heart, your old life shall have a new start.
You must become like little children, or my friend you will die in your sin.
So today be converted in Jesus Christ, and He will give to you New Life.
(Copyright ©05/2006)
My family, frankly, they weren't folks who went to church every week. My mother was one of the most spiritual people I knew but she didn't raise me in the church, so I came to my Christian faith later in life and it was because the precepts of Jesus Christ spoke to me in terms of the kind of life that I would want to lead.
quote by Barack Obama
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Experience God's Loving Grace
I grew up believing I was a Christian, but I did not know The Lord,
For the first thirty years of my life, His Word was totally ignored.
Attending church I was led to believe I lived in a Christian nation,
But personally I never heard of Grace or even understood Salvation.
Living in such spiritual ignorance, my life at times was a disgrace.
However, The Lord used my lovely wife to help me seek His face.
Through her gentle witness The Lord brought me to a time and place,
Where The Spirit opened my heart to experience God's loving Grace.
It wasn't enough to know about God believing that He was always near,
For even the demons believe in God and they shudder with holy fear.
Things became clear when God gave me eyes to see and ears to hear,
That He's not only my God who's near but a friend who's so very dear.
Now I no longer ignore His Word, and He's with me throughout my day,
Christ leads me with The Spirit of God down His Glorious Narrow Way.
And anytime day or night should my heart become filled with dismay,
The Spirit leads me to God's Throne of Grace and even helps me pray.
My friend, my life is so much richer now that I truly know the Lord,
And as I grow in The Lord, my love for God's Word grows even more.
Friend if you read His Word and you'll understand why it has endured,
It's not simply a book by men but God's Word that's certain and sure.
(Copyright © 05/2003)
This Poem
THIS POEM
This poem
This first poem
This last poem
This poem that invented Poetry
This one and only one poem
This fictional poem
This ideal poem
This perfect poem
This would – be holy poem
This unreal poem
This poem which is not a poem
This poem which is the essence of all poetry
This poem
And that poem
And my poem
And your poem
And all poems
Poem poem poem poem poem
This poem
Mine and yours
This one small poem of so so many
And not such a good poem at all.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Searching For a Church?
After your long and weary search, have you found the perfect church?
A simple church ruled by men; the perfect church you can’t condemn.
Or do they all appear the same, just another building with His Name?
And once inside you’re not sure, if you feel the presence of The Lord.
There’s only one true Church of God, upon this earth that all men trod.
That is The Church of Jesus Christ, and bought by Jesus, with His life.
God’s Church has no denomination, for in Christ is only one Salvation.
His Church has no walls my friend; it has a beginning but has no end.
Christ’s Church began at Pentecost, not for the righteous, but the lost.
His Church is made of sinful men, whom by God were all condemned.
But redeemed with a special price, when His Son became a sacrifice.
Then dipped into a cleansing flood; sinners purified by Christ’s Blood.
Are you looking to men to find, God’s forgiveness and peace of mind?
My friend, are you truly not that sure, where you can go to be secure?
Christ’s first Church had no steeple, and was filled with humble people.
Humble people who gave their life, to reach the world for Jesus Christ.
If you’re still searching for a church, you should end your weary search.
The Church is men like you and me, saved by Christ’s work on Calvary.
Nothing’s been added to the cross, except sinners who once were lost,
Since, they’ve entered in The Door, and now belong to Christ The Lord.
(Copyright ©04/2006)
The Mystery of The Church
The Mystery of God’s True Church, is men and women upon this earth.
Men and women upon this earth, brought together through New Birth.
They are called out from the earth, by The Lord’s Spirit during this birth.
The members are called to a New Life, and it is found in Jesus Christ.
Christ said He’d build His Church; it is God’s institution upon the earth.
The Church includes every nation, of the earth that accepts Salvation.
God had started first with the Jew, and then Christ added me and you.
The Church was not created by man, but is part of God’s Eternal Plan.
The Church is of a heavenly origin, far above the influences of all sin.
It is The Lord’s sovereign creation, to spread the Gospel of Salvation.
For there is no earthly institution, that can offer God’s Eternal solution.
The Church is not a building friend, but of people with a heavenly end.
The Church has no earthly foundation; it is built on Christ’s exaltation.
The Church has only one mediator, which is Jesus Christ, her creator.
The gates of Hades will not prevail, although all Satan’s forces do rail.
For Christ gained for all the victory, securing for us a home in Eternity.
On the cross Jesus bled and died, so we could be His Heavenly Bride.
From that death He rose again; we enter His Church once Born Again.
The Lord Jesus died in our stead, and of God’s Church He is the head.
Believers become the body unified, living new lives because He died.
The true Bride and body of Christ, is eagerly anticipating Eternal Life.
You enter in a sinner on the earth, to soon depart into Heaven’s mirth.
Into Eternal Bliss with Jesus Christ, and an endless joy of Eternal Life.
All the saints within God’s Church, from Christ only, get all their worth.
For they have been truly sanctified, under the blood of Christ who died.
By The Holy Spirit they are set apart, with a new mind and new heart.
And they are all of one single kind, as they all have The Savior’s mind.
The end of life is just a new start, to begin in Eternity when they depart.
Do You Believe In: Jesus Christ Or The Cosmic Christ?
Easter is a time where we celebrate
the crucifixion of Jesus Christ
who is God Himself who died for our sins,
where we celebrate His resurrection
from death, where we proclaim
that through no other name,
no other person, there is salvation
from the penalty of sin
which the Bible explicitly states as death,
but at this very time there is an attack
on the Godhood of Jesus Christ,
where Afrikaans and English churches
in South Africa, churches throughout
the entire world,
are starting to follow the teachings
that Jesus was but a mere human being.
Where it is argued that God the Father
is guilty of child abuse,
in sending His Son to pay the penalty
for our sins instead of letting us
pay the price for them,
where Jesus Christ who is God Himself,
came down to this earth
to sacrifice His own life for us.
Further it is argued that Jesus Christ
was not resurrected from the grave,
that His body was eaten by dogs,
and that His disciples and apostles
lied about Him appearing to them,
it is argued that Jesus Christ
did not ascend to His Father in heaven
and some of the things
clearly stated in the holy Bible
is being seen as only myth
and thus men are saying
that Jesus Christ was only a man.
This poem is no attack on any church,
but as a follower of Jesus Christ
I see it as my duty
to proclaim Him and a relationship
with Him as the only way to salvation.
Behind the scenes Jesus Christ
who is God and who is
the Son of God, is being debased
to only a son of the gods
and slowly but surely lowered
to the position of only a prophet,
while ecumenism is spreading
to take hands, to find
a universal compatible christ
for all religions world wide
(by uniting Christian
and non-Christian religions)
and the way is opened
for the cosmic christ to appear,
who his believers clearly state
to be another person from Jesus Christ.
According to the Holy Bible
there are only two forces
interacting in this world
and the one is from God
and the other is from Satan
and as a believer
in the holy Bible only
as the word of God,
I choose to follow Jesus Christ
and God leaves a free choice
for whomever you decide to believe in.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Paradox Of Poetry
The Paradox of Poetry
Is that every poem contains its own questions-
And that each question it asks
Is answered in another question
Raised from somewhere else-
The paradox of Poetry
Is that its meanings
Cannot be contained by themselves-
And so each paradox too
Bears within it its own ambiguity-
I call this a poem about Poetry
But in Paradox
It is a statement of Love
Which abstract as it is
Lacks poetic feeling
A non- poetic poem
Aspiring to be poetry too-
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
What Is A Jewish Poem?
WHAT IS A JEWISH POEM?
What is a Jewish poem?
‘Shema’ is a Jewish poem
Perhaps the Jewish poem-
'Shmoneh Esreh' is comprised of Jewish poems
Nineteen prayers as one-
Our history is filled with Jewish poems-
From the beginning with Abraham and Sarah
Those who have given so much beyond our understanding -
Jewish poems everywhere -
Is each Jewish life a poem and a story also?
Or is it only those who give something to our people and history
Who are worthy of Poetry?
I have known many Jewish poems
People the great world will not know the names of
People who whether they walked humbly or not
Made the lives of others better in some way –
Kindness is perhaps the ultimate Jewish poem
And Justice also-
And Jewish poems are not without their contradictions –
As I write this poem in Jerusalem in the land of Israel
I think of the small Jewish world of Troy New York where I came from so many years ago
And miss so many people no longer of that and this world –
Longing for Israel for two thousand years was the Jewish poem
Living here now is a blessing and a gift
I thank God for.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Written Word Rules!
At the idea of poetry, some people seem to scoff,
As they consider it is an art form only for toffs.
They may think that the concept of poetry is boring,
And that it will leave them fast asleep and snoring.
There are all types of poems: modern and classical.
There’s something for everyone: it’s not boring at all.
The lyrics of songs are poems as such;
They often rhyme together very much.
People like to sing along with their favourite songs,
So why does the concept of poetry feel so wrong?
I’ve only started writing poetry in the last few weeks,
And, I have to admit that I thought it was just for geeks.
But, now I can see, that whoever you are,
Everyone has the potential to go really far.
I have to admit, I much prefer
The written, to the spoken word.
At night, I lay awake tossing and turning in bed,
With random thoughts running through my head.
By my pillow, I keep a pen and note pad,
To jot down any thoughts, which I’ve had.
At the top of the page, my thoughts I jot,
And I always plan out a really rough plot.
I like to include words which have a nice ring.
Words, like these, into my poetry, I like to bring.
I continually go through the alphabet time after time,
Searching for useful words which, pretty much, rhyme.
In simple terms, my ideas, I always like to express;
Complicated and fancy words, my mind doesn’t posses.
I’m sat here, writing this poem, on a speeding train,
As thought after thought, floods into my brain.
I’m writing notes on a mini pocket timetable,
In any tiny blank space which is available.
In my handbag, I’ve got no pad, but I’ve got a pen;
My scribbled notes, I just hope I can comprehend.
I really must start carrying a notepad everywhere;
To forget all these thoughts I’ve had, I couldn’t bear.
When I’m thinking of ideas, I just can’t relax;
My mind seems to buzz to the absolute max.
I’m not far now from my final destination,
And the train is due to pull into the station.
On this subject, there’s not much more to be said,
So, I’m now putting this poem well and truly to bed.
poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
His Church Can Rise Up
Today The Church can rise above, through God’s power and His Love.
She can rise up to the task at hand, and for The Lord can take a stand.
My friend, even in the darkest nights, we can rise up to greater heights.
For we can rise up in Christ’s Victory, as we march forward to Eternity.
Jesus Christ will build His Church, and build it upon The Savior’s worth.
She’s not built upon an earthly frame, but built upon Her Savior’s Name.
Jesus Christ the very Cornerstone, guides His Church from His Throne.
For His Church, Jesus Christ alone, is her foundation and the capstone.
He’s the Groom and we’re the Bride, and His Church will not be denied.
He’s creating a Holy Priesthood friend, of whose service will never end.
We my friends are the living stones, bought and placed by Christ alone,
We’re being built into a spiritual house, by the Church’s Eternal Spouse.
Even though darkened forces rail, the gates of Hades shall not prevail.
Christ’s Victory we can proclaim, through the power of His Holy Name.
We need to rise up above the night, and lift up high Christ’s Holy Light.
We can rise above every situation, and point the world to His salvation.
Very soon The Church will surly rise, to meet The Savior up in the skies,
Dear friend Satan is the defeated foe, and this we need to let men know.
So we need to rise up and tell all men, that Satan is the one condemned,
And when they join The Church of Christ, they too shall gain Eternal Life.
(Copyright ©04/2006)
Maybe A CINO
Friend, are you a CINO faithfully, being a Christian in name only?
Christianity they don’t profess, as The Spirit they don’t possess.
Some, may dare profess a faith, never touched by God’s Grace,
Grace that when it’s received, changes hearts that have believed.
True faith’s more than knowledge of, The Lord who reigns above,
But, a faith that brings to earth, God above, through a New Birth,
Spiritual Birth, bringing into life, as Lord and Savior Jesus Christ,
Who moves upon this earthly sod, in all who truly belong to God.
There are CINOs in every church, weekly in their pews they perch,
Hearing the Word week after week, but His Truth they never seek,
And in their pews they do remain, with a heart in need of change,
Sitting there as they always have, using their faith as just a salve.
So they leave their house of faith, not changed, by God’s Grace,
Still being who they were before, they entered in a church’s door,
And back into their week they go, with very little change to show,
To those on life’s Broader Way, with whom they work day to day.
So all Christians, in only name, can cause Christ hurt and shame,
By their actions, make no mistake, for their benefit, not His sake,
When you see a Godless testimony, it may just be, in name only,
Not a True Christian, please know, but simply a professing CINO.
(Copyright ©11/2009)
Being A Poet
I find that I can compose a poem best,
When I am out walking, or am at rest.
When I am lying in my bed at night,
I think about what I am able to write.
Or when I’m out walking, or sat on a train,
Words and ideas, all rush round my brain.
Sometimes, ideas just appear in my head,
Or may be a result of something I’ve read.
At fellow passengers, on a train, I take a look;
Some chatter away, while others read a book.
But, me, I’m sat there, quietly composing verse;
With dozens of ideas, my creative mind bursts.
If I compose lines on my way into town,
I repeat them over, until I write them down;
If they are not written down straightaway,
Around my mind, other thoughts then play.
There are many things which inspire me to write,
Such as animals, the seasons, and the sky at night.
If I try to force ideas, they just do not flow;
The poem itself, I find, just will not grow.
I like to write on a layperson’s level;
In too much information, I do not revel.
Having chosen a decent subject or idea,
I then need to get my brain in to gear.
Of a subject, I like to consider all of the aspects,
But I keep my writing simple; not too complex.
To make a poem rhyme, words I may change,
But I only use words that are within my range.
In using unfamiliar words, I can see no point;
A nice poem, tricky words, can really disjoint.
Words, within my head, I keep batting around,
Until the perfect combination, is finally found.
With poetry, I really love the creative process,
But over time, I’ve become slightly obsessed.
Sometimes I find myself talking in rhyme;
That I am a poet, this must be a sure sign.
Of my finished poems, I often feel proud;
One day, I’ll be brave and read them aloud.
Into my swirling head, ideas continue to pop;
I love writing poetry and never want to stop!
poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Physical Poetry
The physics of poetry
is best explained in a mind experiment
in the construction of this very poem.
As I write the question becomes
what is the word-next and its origins?
Now what word-next can be
is a question of probabilities;
since if I choose rhyme as my scheme
and since the words which will rhyme are finite
and not infinite
the only question then becomes
which one of these will I choose.
Now if I choose a word-next outside
rhyming
then I risk not making poetic sense
since writing a gibberish word,
or one not related to the whole,
would be judged word-next nonsense.
Now we ask who or what in the brain
is making these two decisions
is it me or is it something mysterious;
is it drawing upon the past and memory
or from an instantaneous present
or even perhaps from my future?
Or is it just random choices I make
without even understanding them?
But suppose it is something we call
consciousness which exists
in the brain-cloud of cells which
can with millions of possibilities
produce a entirely new idea
which by definition
can come to exist
like language itself
and produce something never before said;
and now is being compiled in the brain
in this very instant and brought into existence.
That is humans have with language
the ability to create sentences
which have never before existed,
spoken or written because some languages have
enough words in them to make these permutations
near infinite and hence new ideas possible therewith.
Suppose the same is true of the human mind
and human senses make possible from this
this exercise we call
the idea.
So beyond the physical aspects of the brain
there must be a non-physical aspect we call
consciousness, the spiritual, or whatever
word we choose as its name.
Now the other half of the transaction
is even more amazing:
I just made up a new idea
never been expressed before
and can talk to you about it
and given enough clues
it becomes something you understand
and you yourself can write
a poem about.
This must be trans-consciousness
which is now a double miracle
nobody understands.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!