The Place Is Consecrated
This place is consecrated, I am flustered
By you, who works wonders on my essence;
A fluorescent lamp manages tightly to be answered,
By the rooms of graveness, ones with affluence.
The flung lamp recognises us with intelligence,
We are sapient as an appearance of solidity;
Intellectual work or my line of business is an annoyance,
Licking the time, I swallow this alkalinity.
This place is consecrated due to us being pious,
Safety is a flyer of heaven, full of heaven;
The rooms of danger are not too featureless,
Fearful work has happened with a curtain.
poem by Naveed Akram
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What is Heaven Like?
What is Heaven like?
Is Heaven the mansion
made of pure gold
and precious jewels?
Is Heaven the city
one of a kind?
Is Heaven the place full
of love, joy,
peace and happiness?
Is Heaven the place
where there’s no sickness,
no disease and no growing old?
Is Heaven the place
where angels abide?
Is Heaven the place
where God is visible
to the human eye?
What is Heaven like?
That’s the best place to live.
I wonder Oh I wonder
as I sit here.
poem by Noreen Ann Jenkins
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Returning To Brussels
Upon a Flemish road, when noon was deep,
I passed a little consecrated shrine,
Where, among simple pictures ranged in line,
The blessed Mary holds her child asleep.
To kneel here, shepherd-maidens leave their sheep
When they feel grave because of the sunshine,
And again kneel here in the day's decline;
And here, when their life ails them, come to weep.
Night being full, I passed on the same road
By the same shrine; within, a lamp was lit
Which through the silence of clear darkness glowed.
Thus, when life's heat is past and doubts arise
Darkling, the lamp of Faith must strengthen it,
Which sometimes will not light and sometimes dies.
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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What Is A Barn?
A barn is many things-
A barn is a fun place
To run, romp, and play.
It is also a place of refuge,
On hot or stormy days.
A barn is a storage place
For all your tools, grain, and hay.
It is also a place to unwind,
When you have had a tough day.
A barn becomes God's sanctuary,
When you begin to pray
It is also a place of work,
When work is needing done.
A barn is a place
Where freindships can be made
It is also a place
Where new life is born.
A barn is a place
To try with all your might
And finally when its doors are closed,
'Tis safety from the night.
A barn is a place for horses,
And it is a place for cows
A barn is also a hayloft,
Full of little meows
A barn is the Inn
Where our Savior was born
God, our Savior,
Christ, our Lord.
A barn is a work place,
A barn is a play place
A barn is a great place
A barn is a training ring...
A barn is..
Well, when it comes right
Down to it,
A barn is everything!
poem by Macy Dvirnak
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Heaven
Everyone is trying to get to the bar.
The name of the bar, the bar is called heaven.
The band in heaven plays my favorite song.
They play it once again, they play it all night long.
Heaven is a place where nothing ever happens.
Heaven is a place where nothing ever happens.
There is a party, everyone is there.
Everyone will leave at exactly the same time.
Its hard to imagine that nothing at all
Could be so exciting, and so much fun.
Heaven is a place where nothing ever happens.
Heaven is a place where nothing ever happens.
When this kiss is over it will start again.
It will not be any different, it will be exactly
The same.
Its hard to imagine that nothing at all
Could be so exciting, could be so much fun.
Heaven is a place where nothing every happens.
Heaven is a place where nothing every happens.
song performed by by Talking Heads
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Do Good Works Do?
What will a good life do for you, when your earthly life is through?
All the good you proudly say, you’ve done for men along the way.
Good deeds by men can be good; however it must be understood,
That our works won’t take the place, of The Lord’s amazing Grace.
Good works friend play no part, of God’s true conversion of a heart.
Your good works may be in vain, if you do not embrace The Name,
The only name in Heaven raised, by which all men must be saved.
Will all your good works of the past, well into eternity forever last?
Or will they be buried along side, your earthly body that also died?
Are you ignoring God’s Love, working your way to Heaven above?
Forgetting what God has done, by sending His only begotten Son.
We’re not saved by good deeds, but by God’s work upon Calvary,
His finished work on the cross, through Jesus saves all those lost.
For it is His Grace that saves us, when in Christ we place our trust.
Was the good work in your life, done for the glory of Jesus Christ?
Good works won’t move the Lord, if Christ His Only Son is ignored.
Do your works match the price, paid on the cross by Jesus Christ?
When you accept Jesus Christ, God’s works will flow from your life,
Works prepared for all who believe, that will continue on in eternity.
When your works are of The Lord, you will inherit an eternal reward,
Don’t you want to see your works, turned by God into eternal perks?
(Copyright ©06/2006)
Chat Room For Lonely People
Thoughts are the very essence
Of human existence
Even though they sometimes create discord
Whether you express them via your vocal cords
Or through your keyboard
When you are bored.
Didn't folks used to have rooms
Called drawing rooms?
But now all that is left
Is our 'privacy' of which we are bereft.
So, instead of drawing rooms
We have chat rooms
For lonely people
Who would like to chat with friendly people.
poem by Lonely People Champion
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Living House
I saw you in a house of rooms,
It must be saving the bed of contentment,
Feeding the living of people,
Creating contentment as you speak.
My love is fastened to the door
And the window is collapsing.
My violent pages work for the more,
Rooms are rooms meaningful.
The saviour is brought to the houses
And he saves us from slaughter.
I come to you in the middle of town,
As far as the eye keeps, like one hard.
The contentment is just about.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Heaven Is My Dream Home
Heaven is my home, home home home
Heaven Is my traditional home
Heaven is a place of peace and joy
Heaven I look to you
Heaven keep remembering me to keep my ways
Heaven where I will see choir's sing in Glory of my lord
Heaven is the Land of gold, sliver, and diamond
Heaven is my dream home.
Heaven when will I see you again
Heaven where old became young
Heaven where you shall strength no more
Heaven rejoice with righteous people
Heaven is a place where all soul are longing for
Heaven where I shall be reward
Heaven where there will be holiness among all soul
Heaven I need you.
poem by Abidemi Aniyeloye
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This Noble Child
What consecrated thought; divine intent
Was there to cause this noble child to die?
To what avail to take what heaven sent;
This gift, how could the gods so justify?
Why probe the cosmic sea of mystery,
When answers to such questions are not found?
Seek, rather, what she left to memory,
All else is just conjecture to confound.
Her work accomplished on this conscious plane,
Fulfilling destiny, her purpose, life.
The knot was cleaved in two, this human skein.
She saw upon the dawn relief from strife.
She was to us as spirit weaves with mind,
As Self is earth and, heaven intertwined.
poem by Lynn W. Petty
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Christ will remain a priest and king though He was never consecrated by any papist bishop or greased by any of those shavelings but he was ordained and consecrated by God Himself, and by Him anointed.
quote by Martin Luther
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sentience
Intelligence strives for completion of tasks,
Inside the holes and work, the very flasks.
May we steal the treasure of all time and infinite space,
Then intelligent beings shall perish, along the walls that disgrace.
Let us be some of this hyperspace, willing to work,
Reluctant to stop and even by a bulwark.
The structure called space empties us ruined,
We have what is blackened.
The very river of light curtained and cautioned,
Like a lamp has talents on us when deafened.
Intelligence or sentience carries us further,
Like an alien or human, like future and past patroller.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Heaven Only Knows
(heaven only knows...)
Oh, I know its strange
But I think that its about to change
So Ill take the chance
To get back into the straight again
Chorus:
Heaven only knows (Im really on the level)
Heaven only knows (Im trying to find a way)
Heaven only knows (Im walking down the straight & lonely road today)
(again...)
(heaven only knows...)
Now the sun will shine
And Im gonna work it out this time
And before the light
All I gotta take is one more night.
Repeat chorus
Heaven only knows, heaven only knows
Heaven only knows, heaven only knows
Heaven only knows, heaven only knows
Heaven only knows, heaven only knows
Heaven only knows.
(heaven only knows)
As the hours go by
I can only wonder why
You can change your mind
But you never change the price.
Repeat chorus
Heaven only knows, heaven only knows
Heaven only knows, heaven only knows.
Repeat chorus
song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ch 05 On Love And Youth Story 06
I remember that one night a dear friend of mine entered when I jumped up in such a heedless way that the lamp was extinguished by my sleeve. A vision appeared in the night and by its appearance the darkness was illuminated.
I was amazed at my luck exclaiming whence this felicity?
He took a seat and began reproving me saying that when I beheld him I extinguished the lamp. I said: ‘I thought the sun had risen and wits have said:
When an ugly person comes before the lamp
Arise to him and pull him into the assembly
But if it be a sugar-smiled, sweet-lipped one
Pull him by the sleeve and extinguish the lamp.’
There is a Little Peice of Heaven
there is a little peice of heaven,
a peice for everyone,
a peice that is safe,
a place that is yours,
a place that brings you peace,
a place that gives you happiness,
a little peice of heaven.
there is a little peice of heaven,
on earth,
on the seas,
in tears,
in eyes,
in loneliness,
in love,
in hatred,
in death,
in life,
in everything,
is that little peice of heaven.
there is a little peice of heaven,
in a soul,
for so many people,
a spot that everyone deserves,
a spot that everyone on earth needs,
a spot where hunger vanishes,
a little peice of heaven.
there is a little peice of heaven,
over roads,
through trees,
in forests,
in the seas,
under waterfalls,
on rooves,
between rocks,
between booz,
a little peice of heaven.
there is a little peice of heaven,
in towns,
in cities,
on isleands,
on boats,
in boxes,
in cars,
in vans,
in trucks,
there is this little peice of heaven.
there is this little peice of heaven,
we all know well.
this little peice of heaven,
is actually...
this little place called...HOME.
poem by Sindal Benson
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The Gardener X: Let Your Work Be, Bride
Let your work be, bride. Listen, the
guest has come.
Do you hear, he is gently shaking
the chain which fastens the door?
See that your anklets make no loud
noise, and that your step is not over-
hurried at meeting him.
Let your work be, bride, the guest
had come in the evening.
No, it is not the ghostly wind, bride,
do not be frightened.
It is the full moon on a night of
April; shadows are pale in the court-
yard; the sky overhead is bright.
Draw your veil over your face if
you must, carry the lamp to the door
if you fear.
No, it is not the ghostly wind, bride,
do not be frightened.
Have no word with him if you are
shy; stand aside by the door when you
meet him.
If he asks you questions, and if
you wish to, you can lower you eyes
in silence.
Do not let your bracelets jingle
when, lamp in hand, you lead him in.
Have no words with him if your are
shy.
Have you not finished you work yet,
bride? Listen, the guest has come.
Have you not lit the lamp in the
cowshed?
Have you not got ready the offering
basket for the evening service?
Have you not put the red lucky
mark at the parting of your hair, and
done your toilet for the night?
O bride, do you hear, the guest has
come?
Let your work be!
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
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Promises
Your promise is sound like a niece,
Upstairs the rooms are plenty,
The reward compares to Peace,
I and you are lovable and a discovery.
My complaint subdues your walls
As they crumble and thud to the floors,
Risks are many in these rooms of balls,
A craft of heaven lines the corridors.
May promises keep for some elegant time,
With love I guarantee the house no grime.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Without a sense of place the work is often reduced to a cry of voices in empty rooms, a literature of the self, at its best poetic music; at its worst a thin gruel of the ego.
quote by William Kennedy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Sea and Me
Light a lamp inside my home
so I may feel welcome from whence I roam.
For I have been gone for much too long.
I yearn to hear your sad sweet song.
The light of the lamp will say to me
that I have been missed too much by thee.
Such is the life of a man of the sea,
torn between work and his family.
I've missed the smell of food just cooked
and the taste of it and how it looked.
The time I've lost with you by my side
brings me all the tears I must hide.
The sea is my home away from you.
It's what I love. It's what I do.
But when I return from ventures on high
I know where my heart also does lie,
Between the sea and you, whom I love,
beneath the stars and the sky above.
Be patient my wife and pray for me
and keep the lamp lit so I may see
the warmth of the lamp that fills my heart
and keep it lit when I depart.
For the sea is calling and I must go
out where the waves and the wind doth blow.
Such is the life of this family of mine
as I sail the sea and they do pine.
God, grant them peace. Let the lamp stay lit.
For this life I love I cannot quit.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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The Garden Temple Of Paradise
Everything is beautiful at this time of day,
Following a quickening morning shower.
And the huge orange pearl that is the sun
Is just beginning to shepherd its endless power.
The spirit of divine blessings carries me,
In a vision, to the center of this sacred lush glade.
There lays a stone walkway crossing a footbridge
In a course toward stairs of rock on a rising grade.
Then immediately before me, a shrine-like temple,
With finely carved work exhibited on every side,
It appears to be the craft of the Eternal Builder himself,
To whom the fairest beauties of nature have replied.
It bestows its stately head of glittering spires to the sky,
Resting upon its noble structure of stone buttress and turrets.
The remaining stairs, I bound, and through the gilded doors,
Into the cedar and marble interior, a work of matchless merits.
The artifacts are carved to satisfy the eyes of God,
And, for amenity, a cruciform lamp high in the ceiling of the shrine.
Comprising the interior are two large and lavish units,
The nave consecrated to the body and the apse to the mind.
The golden glow of the lamp exalted the light in my eyes,
So I turned toward the door and gingerly stepped down the aisle.
With head bowed, I walked through the gilded doors,
Feeling the tender glow of the light on my back all the while.
poem by Albert Price
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Nursing Home Neglect
I've seen those who are suffering very bad
Those whose mere existence very sad
I am blessed to be well and alive each day
For those people I continue to pray
I have seen so much neglect and abuse
For the young and elderly never a truce
So hopelessly lying in their beds, day in day out
They can't say a word, just an occasional shout
Have to lie in their waste most of the time
Their bodies covered with dirt and grime
Does anyone out there really care?
Or is this a cross for the poor elderly to bear
They can't eat or drink when they need to
It's not their decision, not part of the crew
Their minds are gone and they can't remember
So taken advantage of, a smoldering ember
They have no control over their life anymore
Often found in their rooms, laying on the floor
The cuts on their head, don't know what happened
They either fell or had a good slapping
Call an ambulance they say out loud
Keep it quiet, don't want a crowd
They can't tell the hospital, what happened to them
Can't remember anything, the home was a gem
Many broken bones and cuts on their face
Is this normal routine at this horrible place
So bad an infection, that they finally die
Who's to blame, the death certificates a lie
The hospital doesn't report the neglect
It's not their problem, what the heck
The doctor lies to make it so easy
Has no consience, he's pretty sleazy
If you have a loved, better check where you put them
Because most of them are bad and need condemned
My mother is gone to a better place now
It's in heaven, where there is plenty of chow
She is not neglected or abused anymore
God knows what happens, and isn't found in the floor
She's singing and dancing and waiting for me
She's sad no longer but full of glee
God will restore what was done to her
Since she's in heaven with her new transfer!
poem by Donna Nimmo
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