Related quotes: Rejoice, the tree you planted,...

Attack on Arvind Kejriwal

Rejoice, the tree you planted,
Has started to bear rich fruits, The event is a proof,
You are not the only victim,
It's a slap on the face of every Indian,
Yes, of course it is,
And it came from the agent of evil,
Whose motive was frustrated,
Be ready for the worst,
The devil is staring at you in sheer acrimony, For inflicting more pain,
But rest assured,
He will be defeated,
For you have the armour of honesty.

poem by Mohammad Akmal Nazir
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To Think of the Devil

The best thinkers expel the worst devils,
As rapidly as the angels of faith,
As quick as the minds of men,
Like the storm of a sea that smothers the boats of betrayal.
The worst devil has inspired now the good men to be bad.
How can we expunge the wrong one?
By patience the sea shall keep on covering the vessels of evil,
And let the blood of the devil believe in more evil
So that we can kindly dismay it!
To best describe this phenomenon I refer to sea and man,
I refer to the captain and his boat,
I refer to the victim and the good men of all.
Each victim must survive its storm somehow?

poem by Naveed Akram
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Staring Them In the Face As Proof

To 'know' God is to be 'free' of inhibitions...
Pretensions and superstitions,
Those demonic live to identify.
To restrict consciousness to limits.
With attempts to keep what is valued unchanged.
And controlled
By delusion and the enforcement of conflict!

But then again...
Some folks are waiting for evidence that God exists.
With all that there is,
Staring them in the face as proof!

And the Earth,
The living reason that affords all to leech upon it...
Shakes everywhere beneath their fragile feet.
With the hope of awakening a broadened consciousness.
And the knowledge that man made time is not on their side,
Waiting in an understood patience...
For absent minds to decide,
Which 'fate' is more acceptable to take.
And which one should be left,
To address in debate!

With all that there is,
Staring them in the face as proof!
With all that there is,
Staring them in the face as proof!
With all that there is,
Staring them in the face as proof!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Two birds on the same tree

Two birds rest on the same tree;
their eyes are bright;

they look alike; yet one
is the Teacher; one the Student;

the Student tastes all the many fruits
upon that tree; the Teacher sits, just watches,

filled with love and pride;
the eyes of both are bright;

when the Student has tasted all,
the Teacher asks what has been learnt; for

only the Teacher knows within their heart:
that now the Student is the teacher;

the Teacher listens as a student;
the Student speaks now as a teacher

who has learned this of themself;
the Teacher’s eyes are bright:

knowing that to live it through
shows the knowledge to be true;

the Student is teaching the Teacher now, of
how to teach; the Teacher glows to know

the Student may surpass the Teacher;
knowledge shines from both their eyes;

who is the more glorious of these two
who share both the same name?

who rejoice to need the other;
who rejoice to be the other;

now they are silent; now the tree’s rejoicing too;
Its roots above; its fruits below;

its leaves, a shelter;
its branches, home.

[ Leaning on a poem of Kabir: Indian readers will be familiar with
'two birds in a tree' as a metaphor for acting with detachment; Kabir takes this further, into knowledge gained from wise action...]

poem by Michael Shepherd
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Fruits Of The Tree

What fruits we have!
Glittering with evil,
To shed innocent blood,
Shining with greed,
And we end in comfort that lasts only a moment

What fruits we bare!
Lost in ambition and passion
That we preach prosperity and success
As if they last an eternity
Swelling with pride that lasts a stint

Fruits of the tree
That the master has planted.
They can choose to ripen, or to stay raw!
They can choose to rot, or to stay ripe!
But, every fruit stands the test of time.

In the end, Ripe with truth and love,
Victory is imminent.
Rotten with deception and hatred,
Destruction waits:
The fruits from the tree of life

poem by Timothy muggaga
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The Fruits of Mankind

Taste the bitterness of the fruits
that grow and rot within.
They lack the kindness that erupts
and oozes out as sin.

These fruits are part of every tree,
the tree from which they've grown.
They look like all the other fruit
but are different and they've known.

what lies within them is not right
and still they do conceal,
hoping to blend in with all the rest
until the skin does peel.

The tree cannot be blamed for this.
It's just the way things are.
We must discard these fruits to protect the rest
or they will leave their scar.

poem by Edwina Reizer
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Devil & Daughter

Silence is mocking the dawn of a new day
Devil and daughter are both on their way
The evil of her nature collects in her eyes
With him theres no fear of the dawn bringing light
Baptised with fire, too wild to be tamed
Shes hot, evil and ready to take any man
Let no one put assunder the power of the pain
He is the master of hell riding again
Devil and daughter - pleasure and pain
Devil and daughter - is this the end
A thousand times over, youll hear on the wind
In the name of hell, these sinners never sinned
But satan never listens to the words that they send
Drenching the soul with blood, when will it end
Devil and daughter
Hes got the power, shes got the pain
Devil and daughter
Shell break any woman and take any man
Devil and daughter
Hand in hand with the reaper

song performed by by Black Sabbath
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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God cares for all Creatures

The guava sapling planted has grown big;
The tree is laden with ripe fruits many;
How many can I pluck or eat each day?
Lie fruits unseen at heights, I cannot reach.

I see the parrots enjoy tasty fruits;
I see the squirrels gnaw the fine ripe ones;
I see bats with voracious appetites;
And many more fall down by force of winds.

God fills the tree with fruits for each season;
Man cannot eat all fruits the tree can bear;
God feeds each bird of the air with care;
He made them all and that’s the chief reason.

When God can feed His other creatures well,
So many human beings starve to death;
Oh, what a man-made tragedy, we see,
As tons of food goes rotten every day!

God loves all human beings even more
Than all His other creatures whom He made;
Both food and drink turn scarce by acts of men;
Why blame God for our misdemeanor, then?

poem by John Celes
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Frustrated

Im frustrated cuz i cant tell if it's real
Frustrated because i don't know how you feel.

Im frustrated cuz you didnt call last night.
Frustrated because there is no trust.

Im frustrated cuz i need you night and day
Frustrated because i can't have things my way.

Im frustrated cuz you never want to hold my hand.
Frustrated because im starting to understand.

Im frustrated cuz we cant be together.
Frustrated because i'll remember you for ever.

poem by Isabel Vicuna
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Uzomah

You do have the best smile on your face so,
Do come straight into my arms of love;
You do have the best love to share so,
Do come and take care of me;
Like to dig a big hole for a tree to be planted.
Uzomah, plant a tree and water it;
For you will eat of its fruits tomorrow.
A tree is needed in our lives and,
Your love is all that i need for this tree;
Because, the atmosphere between us is very smooth.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Ready to leave

My life is screwed my day's are done I need to die to have some fun
I need to die and leave this place and meet my father face to face!
My father is the devil you see and the evil in him is the evil in me,
and no holy man can get him out of me,
because its in my blood and its in my soul and the only way to get rid of it is to get rid of me hole, silver bullet pierce my chest put me down put me to rest,
my father is great my father is fun instead of sitting in a church reading a book
to worship him you kill random people and spend the money you took,
instead of caring about the living you talk to the dead and blow off peoples head,
so i'm ready to go is ready to leave so I can meet my father and finally be free.

poem by Liera Bloodheart
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I Blacken the Sun

I blacken the sun, with all the evil I possess,
Belittling those around me, as a way to relieve my stress,
I blacken the sun, with every word that escapes my lips,
As they pierce into your soul, and slowly tear you into bits,
I dare anybody to step up to me, oh what horrible things that can be done,
I have the power to defeat anybody, because I'm what blackens the sun,
I can cut through you with my eyes, and shred you to pieces with my words,
I'm the baddest thing alive, or haven't you already heard?
That I blacken the sun, with all the forces of hell,
Inflicting pain on others, because evil always prevail,
Your hurt is a cure to my wounds, a remedy to my pain,
It gives me the ability to go on, the strength to sustain,
The power to be undefeated, defeated by none,
Because I'm what blackens that sun,

poem by Niakeva Thomas
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The Helmet of Salvation

The Scriptures warn us of the war that good and evil fight,
That's why God's judgements must outpour if we don't do what's right.
Yet those God saves, by Heaven's grace, whom Jesus calls His Own,
Will one day meet Him face-to-face, in Heaven on His Throne.

For now, the Earthly war exists, yet God grants armour here.
So that each Christian soul resists, to conquer, not to fear.
The Helmet of Salvation's worn until the Devil's gone,
So every one who's been reborn, please put your armour on.

Without God's armour, lives are lost, our heads are fragile things.
In accidents, our heads are tossed. More injury this brings.
Salvation thus prepares the path, the road that we must take.
Sometimes to spare the aftermath that accidents can make.

If we must move at awesome speeds by land or sea or air,
Remember that each body bleeds, sometimes beyond repair.
So wear God's armour every day, no matter hot or cold.
For each of us is mortal clay, much weaker when we're old.

One careless act can harm our faith, regardless of the past,
Despite the decades we were safe, praised God and weren't downcast.
So safety first, then do your best, help others safely through.
God's armour proves we can be blessed, the rest is up to you...

Denis Martindale, copyright, June 2011.

We can watch Revelation TV on Sky UK and
the website's Watch Now Internet connection.

Website: revelationtv-dot-com

poem by Denis Martindale
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When I was only three I planted a tree

When I was three I planted a tree. This was my tree and together we would always be. I gave it love and it to me, and so we were happy, me and my tree.
Then one day they came to see me and my tree. Men with no faces, and they said to me, you must go, and leave this tree.
Buy why I ask. For we've done no harm. Me and my tree, please let us be.
So they left us alone, me and my tree, but only for a while but I could not see.
Then one day they came and took me away. My tree was needed to save the day. Goods it will make it makes perfect sense. So we will take this tree, for wood we need. And so it was done, they took my tree.
And now I look around, my tree I no longer see. Taken from, this tree I planted when I was three.

poem by Brad Milner
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Go Back

Why don't you go back from where you came
As we don't want your type here anymore
As all you brought was sadness and pain
And other ideas that we weren't looking for.
Please take back the way you live your life
And also the things you do and what you believe
As everything was happy before you arrived
But now its not that way anymore, so please leave.
Wished you would leave before you planted more seeds
Of how you lived your life and what you did and done
As we get sick when we know of your past deeds
Wished you had stopped that temptation before it begun.
You don't have that values that we have here
Nor our virtue or honesty and of course no pride
You cast your shadow in hate and dishonesty and fear
And we don't want any of that in our heart or at our side.
I see our children and I then think about them
As I remember what you did to your very own child
The one you said you loved you taught them sin
And you blame everyone else when they went wild.
Look around you now and tell me what you do see
Do you see happiness and love and hope forever more
Or do you see lying and sin and deception that we don't need
Now think, your soul could of been rich but now its poor.
When you came here you had destroyed so many lives
And also you caused so much evil and distrust and sin
And it started when you couldn't tell the truth but only lies
I see now what they mean when they said, you started again.
So look at your past and think of from where you came
Here as over there when you are thought of many do grieve
Over there you were known by your sins and by your name
So why don't you do us a favor here, and please leave.

poem by Randy McClave
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Tree

I know, my tree won't live any a week,
I know, my tree in that city is sentenced to death.
But I am all time with it:
I'm tired of all the other affairs,
I think, that it is my house here,
I think it to be my close friend.
I planted a tree.

I know, that pupil could break my tree tomorrow.
I know, my tree will leave me certainly.
But in the time, when it is living, I'm sitting closely,
I feel a great joy, and pain also.
I think it to be my world.
I think it to be my son, indeed.
I had planted the tree.

song, lyrics by Victor Tsoi, translated by Lyudmila Purgina
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Y.. Tree of Life

The tree of life
It has a branch
A money making branch

The bigger the money making branch
The more comfortable our life
But if the money making branch
Is the only branch
On our tree of life
It is such an ugly and unstable tree.

A prayer and devotion branch
Will stabilize the tree of life
Let it be a real big branch
On your tree of life
But if only two branches on a tree
Imagine how ugly it would still be!

So let there be branches
Of Affability and Charity
Of Cheerfulness and Friendliness
Of Gentleness and Honesty
Of Humility and Compassion
Of Spirituality and Wisdom
Of Courage and Hard work

With these branches present,
It will carry soon the lush greenery
Of love and job satisfaction
And soon enough, the tree of life
Will bear the fruits
Of peace of mind and happiness.

A wonderful tree of life I wish you
with many fine branches
and lots of greenery and fruits.

poem by Aufie Zophy
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A Joyous Morning

you walk in the garden
and you find that the
seed that you have
planted has become
a tree, and today
you can see
it is bearing so many fruits

its twigs are like
hands wearing
jewelries studied
with diamonds
glittering at night

it is not for you
as it will always be for
all of them
they shall pick those fruits and
relish the sweetest taste of life.

you smile and then
you walk away
to plant another tree.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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For Redemption

Mercy is an option-
unredeeming in
my attire of pain.

Lashed by bitter
storms of accusations
my honesty is
poor protection.

My armour
I thought-
never knowing
it would show
my Achilles Heel.

Opening myself
in all my
rawness-
in all my
lack of beauty-
in all that
I have ever been-

My honesty
is my undoing.
(Hasn't it always been?)

Mercy is an option.
Not one I'd choose
though.

I'll wait.
And Hope.

Because I know
it's my honesty
that will stand
guard-

When the demons
of doubt
are vanquished.

As they must be.
As they will be.

For,
Though pain be its gift,
Love never fails.

1 July, '07

poem by Usha Pisharody
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It Blows No Man's Good

Shall my sorrow for one day turn into laughter?
Who is he that has prophesied? You false prophet hold it to yourself.
Have all not developed teeth? Yet teeth development remains a dream to me.
When shall I become a man? When?
Even then manhood is struggle.
I crept and toiled daily for subsistence as though the cursed serpent,
Of cause nothing different from that;
I solicited for arms, truly it were better I never had become a human.
For only but mocking awaited me at every door,
As I tottered and slumped along looking for safety but truly there was nowhere.
The church yard was the only accepted home
With cloudy and whirling face I struggled collapsingly
Help! Help! There was none ready amidst able men.
Oh! Have the hearts of men seized from pity?
And so I sojourned and bore the crucifix alone.
Who else can sing of my song? None I tell you understands the Rub-A-dub of my life;
It is a song meant for vagabonds like me, I am a vagabond.
My song is a song of elegy; it teaches of the agony of my life.
But truly only the victim knows the rhythm of my music.
I am this victim; a marauding and wandering beast
I am cornered by grieves of my life.
Oh! Ye masochist and sadist, you that celebrates my hurt
Remember that he who feels it knows it's bitterly hard to bear
I craved earnestly for solution still the only remedy is that I must live to bear the ding-dongs.
The sun shines and relaxes to gather momentum
But why is it that I never had a moment of rest for revival of my soul?
All in life have seasons of rest and toil
But why must mine be a perpetual hard lots and bondage.
What is responsible? I am the victim.
Why must I be gnawing at my timid teeth daily?
As though the devil in hade
Shall I but one day have a hand of providence?
Then shall I leap for joy with songs of praise to most High.

poem by Lightcheerful Briggs
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It Shall Be No More