Most High On Kingdom's Throne
You may assume it from assumptions fed.
And innuendos whispered,
By those who wish them to spread.
You may even be groomed upon it,
Until for you...
It becomes a craving in your head.
But know this...
From my lips not whispered,
You will never defeat me!
You know why?
My life is not based upon opinions told,
Rumors or babbled smattered...
With a smearing of lies.
And while you are asleep with visions to defeat me,
I am awake to salivate upon teachings I feed and seek.
Where?
At the feet where my Father sits Most High,
On Kingdom's Throne.
And people like me are welcomed to greet and meet,
The Almighty.
No matter if we gather together.
Or if it's requested one visits Him alone.
You may assume it from assumptions fed.
And innuendos whispered,
By those who wish them to spread.
But know this...
Defeating the children taught by my Father,
May be your wish.
However...
Where my Father sits Most High on Kingdom's Throne,
Fantasies like yours do not exist.
You may assume it from assumptions fed.
And innuendos whispered,
By those who wish them to spread.
But know this...
Where my Father sits Most High on Kingdom's Throne,
Fantasies like yours do not exist.
Or are even known.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
The Kingdom
Now we are come to our Kingdom,
And the State is thus and thus;
Our legions wait at the Palace gate—
Little it profits us.
Now we are come to our Kingdom!
Now we are come to our Kingdom,
And the Crown is ours to take—
With a naked sword at the Council board,
And under the throne the snake.
Now we are come to our Kingdom !
Now we are come to our Kingdom,
And the Realm is ours by right,
With shame and fear for our daily cheer,
And heaviness at night.
Now we are come to our Kingdom !
Now we are come to our Kingdom,
But my love's eyelids fall.
All that I wrought for, all that I fought for,
Delight her nothing at all.
My crown is of withered leaves,
For she sits in the dust and grieves.
Now we are come to our Kingdom !
poem by Rudyard Kipling
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Father Of Night
Father of night, father of day,
Father, who taketh the darkness away,
Father, who teacheth the bird to fly,
Builder of rainbows up in the sky,
Father of loneliness and pain,
Father of love and father of rain.
Father of day, father of night,
Father of black, father of white,
Father, who build the mountain so high,
Who shapeth the cloud up in the sky,
Father of time, father of dreams,
Father, who turneth the rivers and streams.
Father of grain, father of wheat,
Father of cold and father of heat,
Father of air and father of trees,
Who dwells in our hearts and our memories,
Father of minutes, father of days,
Father of whom we most solemnly praise.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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As It Is In Heaven
Lyrics: traditional
Music: michael w. smith
Our father, which art in heaven
Hallowed be thy name
Our father, which art in heaven
Hallowed be thy name
Thy kingdom come
Thy will be done
On earth as it is in heaven
Our father, which art in heaven
Hallowed be thy name
Hallowed be thy name
Our father, which art in heaven
Our father
Hallowed be thy name
Hallowed be thy name
Thy kingdom come
Thy will be done
On earth as it is in heaven
Give us this day
Our daily bread
And forgive us our debts
As we forgive our debtors
Our father, which art in heaven
Hallowed be thy name
Our father, which art in heaven
Hallowed be thy name
And lead us not into temptation
But deliver us, deliver us from evil
For thine is the kingdom, and all the power
And the glory
Forever amen
Our father, which art in heaven
Hallowed be thy name
Thy kingdom come
Thy will be done
On earth as it is in heaven
song performed by by Michael W. Smith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Unpredictable
You do not know me.
And each time you and others,
Do your assessments...
You become disappointed,
By the results you get.
Something you discover,
Offends your beliefs.
But no time have you spent,
Connecting your assumptions...
To a specificness that exists.
You do not know me.
And each time you and others,
Do your assessments...
You become disappointed,
By the results you get.
And you find yourself in discussions,
With others who assess...
Beliefs addressed,
Which have been confirmed...
By the uselessness of whispered innuendos.
And it doesn't bother me one bit,
To know this tolerance you live with...
Defines your own existence permitted.
And I can see how you qualify me,
As unpredictable.
It is a relief and I thank you,
For that determination....
You have researched.
Perhaps next time you will approach me,
And together we can converse.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Psalm 89 part 4
v.19ff
C. M.
Christ's mediatorial kingdom; or, His Divine and human nature
Hear what the Lord in vision said,
And made his mercy known:
"Sinners, behold your help is laid
On my Almighty Son.
"Behold the Man my wisdom chose
Among your mortal race:
His head my holy oil o'erflows,
The Spirit of my grace.
"High shall he reign on David's throne,
My people's better King;
My arm shall beat his rivals down,
And still new subjects bring.
"My truth shall guard him in his way,
With mercy by his side,
While in my name through earth and sea
He shall in triumph ride.
"Me for his Father and his God
He shall for ever own,
Call me his rock, his high abode,
And I'll support my Son.
"My first-born Son arrayed in grace
At my right hand shall sit;
Beneath him angels know their place,
And monarchs at his feet.
"My cov'nant stands for ever fast,
My promises are strong;
Firm as the heav'ns his throne shall last,
His seed endure as long."
poem by Isaac Watts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In Prayer to You
Thank you, My Father
For all that You've done for me.
For all that you've done for me...
I thank You, My Father.
Thank you, My Father
For all that You've done for me.
For all that you've done for me...
I thank You, My Father.
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
For all that you've done for me.
In the early morning hours,
When I arise to greet the Sun...
I feel blessed and prepared,
With such gratefulness...
In prayer to You.
This I must do!
And when noon approaches...
No matter what I have done,
Before that time comes...
That may create a disturbance,
I did not invite nor did I make.
I find time to show it is You I appreciate.
In prayer to You.
This I must do!
Whether or not...
Thunder storms roar,
Or rain drops fall to pitter and pat.
Thank you, My Father
For all that You've done for me.
For all that you've done for me...
I thank You, My Father.
And at the oncoming of Sunset...
Not one moment do I forget,
The power of Your presence...
That showers the blessings,
From You I get!
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
In prayer to You.
This I must do!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What Is Held Important
A false sense of being popular,
For some is their only goal.
And to distort any truth there is,
To maintain for them what is held important...
They will do to keep a shallowness their own.
No matter who pays for their whispered innuendos.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sneaky Peeks Out Of Windows
Can you handle scandal?
Or innuendos,
With a lifting of an eyebrow sent?
Can you handle cheeky comments made,
About who you've been seeing in discreet...
And how you like your sex done,
With 'whomever' you have had...
Prior to sneaking home to go to sleep!
Can you handle scandal?
Or innuendos,
With a lifting of an eyebrow sent?
How about someone you have yet to meet,
Paying your monthly rent?
This gossip is daily entertainment...
For those with no lives to live.
But 'know' from sneaky peeks out of windows...
Who they assume does what,
And with whom...
From notes they take and schedules they keep.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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They Know That They Don't Know
They know that they don't know!
And their opinions discloses the evidence.
Most of their knowledge has been obtained,
By innuendos and nonsense.
Leaving them exposed,
To an ignorance that shows.
They know that they don't know!
And any actions taken to comprehend...
Becomes entrapped by an inferiority,
Felt within them.
And that which escapes their understanding...
Is left out of their reach.
Although very close...
Are those answers they seek most.
But quick they fold their arms to their chests,
With stubborn hands to express...
Their choice not to hear,
What for them is best!
Declaring they wish not to listen...
Because facts distracts,
A consciousness they lack!
They know that they don't know.
But they want to gossip it.
They know that they don't know.
But they want to gossip it.
They know that they don't know.
But they want to gossip it...
And spread those rumors made to fit,
Those ears that are as limited!
They know that they don't know.
But they want to gossip it.
They know that they don't know.
But they want to gossip it.
They know that they don't know.
But they want to gossip it...
And spread those rumors made to fit,
Those ears that are as limited!
They know that they don't know,
With their minds closed.
They know that they don't know,
With their minds closed.
They know that they don't know,
With their minds closed.
And spread those rumors made to fit,
Those ears that are as limited!
They know that they don't know...
And it shows.
They know that they don't know...
And it shows.
They know that they don't know...
And it shows.
And spread those rumors made to fit,
Those ears that are as limited!
They know that they don't!
Stubborn and they're limited.
They know that they don't!
Stubborn and they're limited.
They know that they don't!
Stubborn and they're limited.
Stubborn and they're limited.
And spread those rumors made to fit,
Those ears that are as limited!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Access To God
I speak to The Father every day, through one very Glorious Way,
A way provided for you and me, to speak to the God of Eternity.
I speak to Him only through one, the Father’s only begotten Son,
Christ gained access for His own, directly to His Father’s Throne.
I have access to His Throne of Grace, at all times from any place,
An access never denied to those, who truly believe His Son rose.
A religious support, I have none, as I go through God’s Own Son,
Christ, who is my High Priest, handling concern without the yeast.
As my High Priest He intercedes, with His Father for all my needs,
Christ’s our High Priest forever, reigning with a Righteous Scepter.
Of our needs, He knows everything, ruling also as Sovereign King,
The Lamb of Glory, now Glorified, is reigning by The Father’s side.
Knowing all that Christ endured, He is our friend, not just our Lord,
Completing for all the final sacrifice; paying in full sin’s total price.
Now seated at The Father’s side, is the One who sinners crucified,
Redeeming all the world, that day, as His Father, had turned away.
God turned as Christ bore the sin, that was not at all a part of Him,
But, He bore our sin and our grief, to bring to all men Divine relief,
And changes Christ has wrought, in the hearts of those He bought,
Through all of the humble prayers, to a loving God who truly cares.
(Copyright ©12/2007)
No More Fearful Innuendos
No more...fearful innuendos.
No more. No more.
No more fearful innuendos.
No more. No more.
No more fearful innuendos.
No more. No more.
No more fearful innuendos.
No more. No more.
And...
The truth is there.
Staring in your face.
And...
The truth is there.
Staring in your face.
Get from your windows.
Your neighbors can now see...what you do.
No need to whisper what you're feeling.
If it's there it will be seen like you!
Open your closed doors.
Your enemies perceived have never been.
That gossip was to get you to accept it.
While the thieves were stealing truth from under you.
Oh! Oh...
Come out of hiding.
Look at all the damage that's been done.
Don't you think that this has been intentional?
To have suspicions laid on everyone.
Oh! Oh,
No more...
Fearful innuendos.
No more. No more.
No more fearful innuendos.
No more. No more.
No more fearful innuendos.
No more. No more.
No more fearful innuendos.
No more. No more.
No more...fearful innuendos.
No more. No more.
No more fearful innuendos.
No more. No more.
No more fearful innuendos.
No more. No more.
No more fearful innuendos.
No more. No more.
Open your closed doors.
Your enemies perceived have never been.
That gossip was to get you to accept it.
While the thieves were stealing truth from under you.
Oh! Oh...
No more!
Fearful innuendos.
No more. No more.
No more fearful innuendos.
No more. No more.
No more fearful innuendos.
No more. No more.
No more fearful innuendos.
No more. No more.
Get from your windows.
Your neighbors now can see just what you do.
No need to whisper what you're feeling.
If it's there it will be seen like you!
And...
The truth is there.
Staring in your face.
Oh, oh.
And...
The truth is there.
Staring in your face.
Oh, oh.
And...
The truth is there.
Staring in your face.
Oh, oh.
And...
The truth is there.
Staring in your face.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Father Told
Father Told
i
Father told, ink filled pen causes writing
I poured ink into pen and started to write.
ii
Father told, the door if knocked
Some one or other will open that
I knocked at the door
From other side the door opened.
iii
Father advised me to walk carefully
I proceeded step by step
But I stumbled on the walking way
Father told, this is ornaments of walking path.
iv
Father asked to return back at practical world
From the world at poetic imagination
I returned back at practical world
And started to proceed
That walking path of mine followed me.
v
Father advised to read and learn
I read book and learnt
Also informed the neighbors
They learnt, taught and informed
Their surroundings.
vi
Father advised me to behave gently with all
I behaved gently with all, but
Some persons misbehaved with me
Father told me to be forgiving
So, I forgave them.
vii
Father told, open your incite, you will
Find everything is easy- straight and charming
No sooner I opened my incite
Infinite butterfly built their dwelling there.
viii
Through eye that you see
That is only present
Through mind that you see is past, present and future
I closed my eye and spread
I spread mind at wings of butterfly.
ix
Father told, every moment is under control of creature.
Even a leaf moves at his direction.
I listened, flying at sky as cloud
Falling in dropp as rain- bloomed as flower
And I extended over the air as aroma.
x
Father told, physique of creature dies, not soul
I close eye and become the king
Of far unknown kingdom.
xi
Father told, sun rises in the east
And sun sets in the west
I heard, saw and believed.
poem by Bongokobida Zakaria
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Being Quick to Identify Self
Rarely do I get upset,
When it comes to correcting those assumptions.
Especially the ones made and done on my behave.
I try to nip those in the bud immediately.
Knowing if I don't...
They begin to run around,
Like undisciplined children!
You see...
People left to assume,
Have heard words from other mouths.
And if those juices drip,
It becomes like marmalade on free bread.
And what someone says is spread around.
To taste and evaluate.
And I have too many of my own 'crumbs'
From my own tongue,
To spew without assistance.
IF I so choose.
But I don't do this!
And when I am direct,
Some may believe I am upset.
I am not!
Perhaps territorial.
You see...
If there is going to be any embellishments done,
Regarding my steps...
You best believe,
I can plant my own feet down...
To walk and talk at the same time.
And 'this' novelty I call,
Being Quick to Identify Self...
With an Immediate Awareness Shown to Others.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Psalm 110
Christ's kingdom and priesthood.
Jesus, our Lord, ascend thy throne,
And near the Father sit;
In Zion shall thy power be known,
And make thy foes submit.
What wonders shall thy gospel do!
Thy converts shall surpass
The num'rous drops of morning dew,
And own thy sovereign grace.
God hath pronounced a firm decree,
Nor changes what he swore:
"Eternal shall thy priesthood be,
When Aaron is no more.
"Melchizedek, that wondrous priest,
That king of high degree,
That holy man who Abraham blessed,
Was but a type of thee."
Jesus our Priest for ever lives
To plead for us above;
Jesus our King for ever gives
The blessings of his love.
God shall exalt his glorious head,
And his high throne maintain;
Shall strike the powers and princes dead
Who dare oppose his reign.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Those Sexual Innuendos
Innocence has blown up in a puff!
Those,
Sexual innuendos...
Can stir things up!
And addict a kid to lust.
With a stirring that corrupts.
All those sexual innuendos,
Can stir things up.
And when children think of chicken...
They want to know if the rooster plucks.
And in what position does a chicken cluck.
Those,
Sexual innuendos...
Can stir things up!
And addict a kid to lust.
With a stirring that corrupts.
Those sexual innuendos...
That stir things up.
Are fed to feed attraction,
With a stirring things up!
And made to trap...
Weak minds to keep attracted.
Those sexual innuendos...
That stir things up.
Are fed to feed attraction,
With a stirring things up!
And made to trap...
Weak minds to keep attracted.
Those,
Sexual innuendos...
Can stir things up!
And addict a kid to lust.
With a stirring that corrupts.
All those sexual innuendos,
Can stir things up.
And when children think of chicken...
They want to know if the rooster plucks.
And in what position does a chicken cluck.
All those sexual innuendos,
Can stir things up.
All those sexual innuendos,
Can stir things up.
All those sexual innuendos,
Can stir things up.
Those,
Sexual innuendos...
Can stir things up!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Into I Drifted
How farther from the Kingdom can You be,
My Father?
If we greet on one level when we meet...AGAIN!
I'm told that YOUR glow is tremendously bright,
Yet soft and exciting!
How will I know
Its the 'Me' You're inviting?
If Your radiance blinds my sight.
How will I know it is You that bestows it?
'Look around, son!
Do you recognize anything here that looks familiar?
Other than family, friends and their happy glowing faces?
Anything at all.
Okay...time's up! '
Father! It's too magnificent!
I couldn't...
It wouldn't be fair to waste time like that!
'And since you have none of it left...
This my son,
Is Kingdom Come! ...and, (He's going to survive?)
And...er...and, uh...Let it be known I have spoken! '
He shakes me up with this stuff!
From faith to dream in illusions.
Delusional sometimes I get...
When I first wake up,
From a deep sleep into I drifted!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Epistle l
what if you built a tree-house
and suddenly the supporting
branches of your airy aerie
disappeared-vanished quite
and left the roof momentarily
suspended in mid-air, before the
leafy couvercle crashed down
at the usual speed of 32ft/second?
That's what it would be like
if suddenly your dear little mind
were cleansed of its assumptions
swept bare-what a scare
of, yes, assumptions, those children
of Memory and Usage, those kids
that refuse to leave home
having too comfortable a stay
given you by father, fashion, faith,
that you love but resent
the need to feed; after all, you got 'em,
and they're not going anywhere-
undisplaceable, ineraseable
passively borne
like a bathtub its sepia ring
obliging you to rocket
to Mars or sound ocean's bottom.
What folly. How scary it that?
All those assumptions gone?
Peace at the cost of new anxiety...
poem by Morgan Michaels
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Natural Prerequisite
Sorry to burst your bubble.
But that sensitivity you believe you see?
Is not at all the kind of sensitivity,
Inside of me.
People are quick,
To categorize with labels.
Because I'm known to write,
A bit of poetry.
Of course that depicts me,
To have 'certain' qualities.
You know what I'm sayin'!
And in my presence,
People assume many things.
Sometimes I am made to feel,
As if I am auditioning...
For a role to play in their fantasies.
Because I enjoy the craft of acting.
Its discipline and demands,
Placed on one's attention!
That too I seek.
Or so I am told.
I am a trained vocalist as well.
If my parents sang...
And my mom taught piano.
That's all I knew.
As a child as I grew.
But getting back to 'you'.
And the love you have for passing judgement.
I don't fault you at all,
For finding me complex.
If you add to those assumptions...
Black 'and' dysfunctional!
You'd be the one...
Not me.
Who would get little rest.
I look forward to being examined.
Being mentally 'touched'...
Has been a natural prerequisite,
For what it is I do!
And you just want to sum it all up,
As sensitivity?
You're funny as hell!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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For My Father... The Slip, Falling
The slip...falling...
Our Father. I beg
The begging. Kneel.
In kneeling, blooded flesh.
Bloody hands' supplication.
Do not lift my soul, eyes, heart.
Not now. Not this day.
I will not pray, but
Our Father...
Hundreds of staples in my
Creator's legs...
Eyes open to ceiling, tears icing
Cold, stainless...stained
Pain.
Sheeted, still form.
Cold hands.
Our Father...my Father-
Why?
'Daughter, ' whispered split lips,
'I love you.'
The slip...falling...
Our Father!
His eyes, mine. Heart, soul...
Steel belief again, rain prayer
To reality.
Reality to prayer...
Our Father...
Where the compassion suffered
On your cross...
Where, the divine guiding...
Surgeons' hands, bloody.
Tears...blood.
Our Father.
Too high this price...for my
Pauper Father.
Where, your salvation...
The slip...falling...
Our Father.
Hear you curses
Louder than prayer?
Clothe demons, not angels?
Do you hear me? Watch me?
See me place yellow roses
On this stone.
The stone which set you free...
With my Father...
Imprisons me.
poem by Elysabeth Faslund
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The 'He-Said' 'She-Said' People
When one lives amongst the 'he-said' 'she-said' people,
Many will assume what that person does and do.
And who that person is.
But few,
Will actually speak or have a conversation...
To know what those shared interests are.
And...
No one really cares what they are.
Since it might bring logic to their gossiped innuendos.
And in small towns,
The 'he-said' 'she-said' people...
Take pride in all of the lies they create.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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