Little John Smith
LO, AS I WALKED PAST SMITHSONS MEADOW,
I SAW A NAKED INFANT RUN OUT OF A BARN,
HE LAUGHED AS HE RAN TOWARDS ME,
HO, WHAT BE THY NAME LAD?
AND THE YOUNG LAD REPLIED?
I AM JOHN SMITH! HE SAID AS HE RAN OFF,
THIS WAS TWENTY AND SIX YEARS AGO,
AYE, I RETURN FROM MY MANY QUESTS FROM LANDS AFAR,
AND A STRONG MALE VOICE STOPPED ME AND SAID,
WHO BE YE AND WHENCE GOEST THOU? HE ASKED
AND I SAID, AH MY GOOD MAN, I AM HARRY BOLDS OF BOLDS FARM AND I RETURN FROM MY MANY JOURNEYS AFTER TWENTY AND SIX YEARS AWAY FROM HOME, SAID I,
GOOD THEN, I AM LORD JOHN SMITH!
LORD OF THE LANDS OF SMITHSONS AND I SAY THIS TO YOU,
TELL THIS TO MY WARRIORS AS YOU PASS TROUGH THE TOWN,
THAT I, LORD SMITH HAS GRANTED YOU SAFE PASSAGE THROUGH MY LANDS FOR I KNOW OF THE BOLDS FARMS, STATED THE LAD AND HE TURNED AND WALKED OFF,
WHAT A MARVEL! TOUGHT I, LITTLE JOHN SMITH IS NOW A WARRIOR LORD AND NOW GRANTS ME SAFE PASSAGE THROUGH THIS LANDS!
IT IS WELL THEN, THE INFANT IS NOW AN ADULT,
WATCH THY STEP, LEST YOU OFFEND A LITTLE JOHN SMITH WHO MAY BE THE ONE TO GRANT YOU YOUR LIFE IN THE FUTURE!
poem by Overlord Don Manuel Ihcakeyno
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Antichrist, or the Reunion of Christendom: An Ode
Are they clinging to their crosses,
F. E. Smith,
Where the Breton boat-fleet tosses,
Are they, Smith?
Do they, fasting, trembling, bleeding,
Wait the news from this our city?
Groaning "That's the Second Reading!"
Hissing "There is still Committee!"
If the voice of Cecil falters,
If McKenna's point has pith,
Do they tremble for their altars?
Do they, Smith?
Russian peasants round their pope
Huddled, Smith,
Hear about it all, I hope,
Don't they, Smith?
In the mountain hamlets clothing
Peaks beyond Caucasian pales,
Where Establishment means nothing
And they never heard of Wales,
Do they read it all in Hansard -
With a crib to read it with -
"Welsh Tithes: Dr. Clifford answered."
Really, Smith?
In the lands where Christians were,
F. E. Smith,
In the little lands laid bare,
Smith, O Smith!
Where the Turkish bands are busy
And the Tory name is blessed
Since they hailed the Cross of Dizzy
On the banners from the West!
Men don't think it half so hard if
Islam burns their kin and kith,
Since a curate lives in Cardiff
Saved by Smith.
It would greatly, I must own,
Soothe me, Smith!
If you left this theme alone,
Holy Smith!
For your legal cause or civil
You fight well and get your fee;
For your God or dream or devil
You will answer, not to me.
Talk about the pews and steeples
And the cash that goes therewith!
But the souls of Christian peoples...
Chuck it, Smith!
poem by G.K. Chesterton
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Antichrist, or the Reunion of Christendom: An Ode
Are they clinging to their crosses,
F. E. Smith,
Where the Breton boat-fleet tosses,
Are they, Smith?
Do they, fasting, trembling, bleeding,
Wait the news from this our city?
Groaning "That's the Second Reading!"
Hissing "There is still Committee!"
If the voice of Cecil falters,
If McKenna's point has pith,
Do they tremble for their altars?
Do they, Smith?
Russian peasants round their pope
Huddled, Smith,
Hear about it all, I hope,
Don't they, Smith?
In the mountain hamlets clothing
Peaks beyond Caucasian pales,
Where Establishment means nothing
And they never heard of Wales,
Do they read it all in Hansard --
With a crib to read it with --
"Welsh Tithes: Dr. Clifford answered."
Really, Smith?
In the lands where Christians were,
F. E. Smith,
In the little lands laid bare,
Smith, O Smith!
Where the Turkish bands are busy
And the Tory name is blessed
Since they hailed the Cross of Dizzy
On the banners from the West!
Men don't think it half so hard if
Islam burns their kin and kith,
Since a curate lives in Cardiff
Saved by Smith.
It would greatly, I must own,
Soothe me, Smith!
If you left this theme alone,
Holy Smith!
For your legal cause or civil
You fight well and get your fee;
For your God or dream or devil
You will answer, not to me.
Talk about the pews and steeples
And the cash that goes therewith!
But the souls of Christian peoples...
Chuck it, Smith!
poem by Gilbert Keith Chesterton
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Funeral Of A Child
Three years ago, I passed a little church
While I walked on my way
Sorrow rang out from the steeple bells
As in the cemetery a group of people gathered
I stopped to watch for a moment
A small coffin being carried to the graveside
Where soon it would be laid
The priest stood beside it and slowly said
“The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away
We commit this child into the arms of the Lord
For his safe keeping for ever and ever
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.”
At the graveside I could see in the scene
A young girl about nineteen and young man about twenty one
Both were heartbroken because it was their child
Their one any only son
Being laid to rest, but never to be forgotten
I turned to go on my way, when I saw from the grave
A stairway to the sky appear
On each step an angel stood all looking young and fair
I stood astonished for a while
As up the stairs walked a child
From that day to this I wonder all the time
What was the meaning of this sign
(Date written unknown)
poem by David Harris
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Lord Use Me
Lord I am ready
To make You pleased
I am so ready
To give You Your glory
Test me You will see
Lord use me
I believe
You used Moses to
Part the Red sea
Lord use me
I believe
That You gave Samsom
The strength
To take down a building
Lord use me
I believe
You made David king
For that he did sing
Lord use me
I believe Jesus
Is our Lord and Saviour
Those who believe
Are highly favoured
And as sure as I am
About all of these
Bible teachings
Lord I am ready
For you to use me! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
poem by Tameeka Smith
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Bones
Said Mr. Smith, “I really cannot
Tell you, Dr. Jones—
The most peculiar pain I’m in—
I think it’s in my bones.”
Said Dr. Jones, “Oh, Mr. Smith,
That’s nothing. Without doubt
We have a simple cure for that;
It is to take them out.”
He laid forthwith poor Mr. Smith
Close-clamped upon the table,
And, cold as stone, took out his bones
As fast as he was able.
Smith said, “Thank you, thank you, thank you,”
And wished him a good-day;
And with his parcel ‘neath his arm
He slowly moved away.
poem by Walter de la Mare
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Bessie Smith
Bessie was more than a friend of mine
We shared the good times and the bad
Well many years has since passed me by
I still recall the best thing I ever had
Now I'm going down the road to see Bessie
Oh see her soon
I'm just going down the road to see Bessie Smith
When I get there I wondering what she'll do
Now all the crazy things I had to try
Well I tried them all and then some
But if you're lucky one day you will find out
Where it is that you're really coming from
Now I'm going down the road to see Bessie
Oh see her soon
I'm just going down the road to see Bessie Smith
When I get there I wondering what she'll do
Now in my day I've made some foolish moves
But back then I didn't worry about a thing
Now and again I still wonder to myself
Was it the sweet love or the way that she could sing
I'm just going down the road to see Bessie Smith
When I get there I wondering what she'll do
I'm just going down the road to see Bessie Smith
When I get there I wondering what she'll do
song performed by by Norah Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bible Stories: Job (Chapter II)
When angels came before Yahweh,
Satan too joined them again.
The Lord asked him, “Whence do you come? ”
And Satan told, “By roaming earth,
And going on lands, back and forth.”
God asked, “Did you notice my servant Job?
There’s none like him upon the earth! ”
“You ruined Job without a cause! ”
And Satan answered Lord and said,
“Man gives all things to save his life;
Just touch his body, he’ll curse God.”
So, God placed Job in Satan’s hands;
‘Just spare his life, ’ God warned Satan.
So, Satan went from Lord’s presence,
And caused Job boils from head to foot;
Job took a potsherd to scrape with
And sat amongst the ashes sad.
His wife advised, “Curse God and die! ”
Job told her not to be foolish.
“When good things come, we praise the Lord.”
“Why shouldn’t some evil come? ” asked Job.
In all this, Job didn’t sin by word!
Eliphaz, Bildad and Zophar-
Good friends of Job, heard the sad news,
And rushed to mourn and console him!
From far, they couldn’t recognize Job;
They wept aloud and tore their cloaks;
They sprinkled dust upon their heads;
And sat with him upon the ground,
For seven days and nights, speechless.
They saw his grief was very great!
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Zero Bars (Mr. Smith)
my name is Smith
your silence is my trade
my name is Smith
here in this bar you fade out
time heals nothing
it merely rearranges our memory
in zero bars
even time no longer seems willing to try
please look around
empty faces that never quite die
don't be surprised
their bodies move by habit, look in their eyes
nothing is real
if you break down and cry they won't even stare
nobody feels
it's far too risky to admit that you care
my name is Smith
your silence is my trade
my name is Smith
here in this bar you fade out
Gary Numan, "Zero Bars (Mr. Smith)", _T_u_b_e_w_a_y _A_r_m_y (Beggars Banquet/ATCO 1978)
song performed by by Gary Numan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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God Did It!
On the highway minding my business
another car was trying to get by
so i put my foot on the brakes
and my car flipped upside down
i cried lord help please take the car but save my life
i walked away no scars no pain nothing broken now
i can testify that god did it yes he did
poem by Tyreesha Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Zero Bars
My name is smith
Your silence is my trade
My name is smith
Here in this bar you fade out
Time heals nothing
It merely rearranges our memory
In zero bars
Even time no longer seems willing to try
Please look around
Empty faces that never quite die
Don't be surprised
Their bodies move by habit, look in their eyes
Nothing is real
If you break down and cry they won't even stare
Nobody feels
It's far too risky to admit that you care
My name is smith
Your silence is my trade
My name is smith
Here in this bar you fade out
song performed by by Gary Numan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Old Friends
I caught a glimpse of you and me today
Whilst walking through a park
Where two friends walked and talked
Under trees filled with laughter
When carefree we shared bad jokes
And pretended to be other people on the phone
I miss the prayers the love
The friend that never left me on my own
Who shared dreams and poetry
Who made minutes stretch into an hour and more
Who was always knocking on my door
Who listened to my tired relentless rhyme
Who forgave me for never being on time
And without looking consumed my terribly bad cooking
The holidays the photographs the arguments and fun,
It's twenty years and more,
Oh how I miss that knock upon my door!
yvette smith
poem by Yvette Smith
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In Memory Of Alfred Pollexfen
FIVE-AND-TWENTY years have gone
Since old William pollexfen
Laid his strong bones down in death
By his wife Elizabeth
In the grey stone tomb he made.
And after twenty years they laid
In that tomb by him and her
His son George, the astrologer;
And Masons drove from miles away
To scatter the Acacia spray
Upon a melancholy man
Who had ended where his breath began.
Many a son and daughter lies
Far from the customary skies,
The Mall and Eades's grammar school,
In London or in Liverpool;
But where is laid the sailor John
That so many lands had known,
Quiet lands or unquiet seas
Where the Indians trade or Japanese?
He never found his rest ashore,
Moping for one voyage more.
Where have they laid the sailor John?
And yesterday the youngest son,
A humorous, unambitious man,
Was buried near the astrologer,
Yesterday in the tenth year
Since he who had been contented long.
A nobody in a great throng,
Decided he would journey home,
Now that his fiftieth year had come,
And 'Mr. Alfred' be again
Upon the lips of common men
Who carried in their memory
His childhood and his family.
At all these death-beds women heard
A visionary white sea-bird
Lamenting that a man should die;
And with that cry I have raised my cry.
poem by William Butler Yeats
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O Come All Ye Faithful
Text: latin humn (translation by frederick oakeley)
Music: john francis wade
Arr: michael w. smith and ronn huff
Sing choirs of angels
Sing in exultation
O sing all ye citizens of heavn above
Glory to god
Glory in the highest
O come let us adore him
O come let us adore him
O come let us adore him
Christ the lord
Yea lord we greet thee
Born this happy morning
Jesus to thee be all glory givn
Word of the father
Now in flesh appearing
O come let us adore him
O come let us adore him
O come let us adore him
Christ the lord
song performed by by Michael W. Smith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want
Please, Please, Please,
Let Me Get What I Want
(The Smith cover)
Good times for a change
See, the luck I've had
Can make a good man
Turn bad
So please please please
Let me, let me, let me
Let me get what I want
This time
Haven't had a dream in a long time
See, the life I've had
Can make a good man bad
So for once in my life
Let me get what I want
Lord knows it would be the first time
Lord knows it would be the first time
song performed by by Muse
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Full Of Faith!
And it came to pass that a certain man
Read the Word of God and then full of faith
Created something new...
He created something brand new...
He created a new universe...
Out of nothing but faith, there it was before him,
Just a bubble before his face...
He let it grow larger and larger.
It almost filled his room...
Come with me, he told it.
He led it outside into the garden.
Grow bigger, he said... and it grew bigger...
Let no other human see it, he said.
It became invisible to humans.
Let there be me within it, he said.
With all the physical needs supplied, he said.
Oxygen, food, drink to drink and so on... he said...
Then he disappeared into the new universe...
Let there be spirits, living spirits, he said.
Let them appear as with human form, he said.
Let them fall in love with each other, he said
And from their love create newborn baby spirits, he said
And such commands came to pass...
The spirits were immortal, undying, yet creating
And centuries passed by, for him, for them...
Still protected by his faith, thinking all things possible,
He determined that he would become a spirit, too.
Let me become... he said...
Yet he was stopped from speaking the rest...
He heard a powerful voice... Who are you? he asked...
I am the God of all creation, the Lord said.
Wow! said the mortal man, immediately humbled.
Your Word helped me create this place! he said.
Look at my spirit beings in love with life! he said.
Yes, I know each and every one of them, said the Lord.
Why do you reveal yourself now? asked the man.
You cannot become a spirit... warned the Lord.
You are a mortal, soon to die, said the Lord.
I want you to give all this up, said the Lord...
Return home, where I can save you, said the Lord.
For as a mortal, you have sinned, warned the Lord.
You need to be forgiven, explained the Lord.
Then I can grant you eternal life in Jesus, said the Lord.
Wow! I understand, replied the repentant man.
You let me see all this according to my faith, he said.
Did I really need to create all this? he asked.
Yes, you did, for your faith is so powerful, said the Lord.
It is because I told you it was so, the Lord explained.
You trusted my Word, therefore trust Me now, He said...
Once forgiven, you can be baptised, said God,
Baptised into eternal life as I promised...
Can these spirit beings continue unharmed? the man asked.
Yes, for they know not sin, they never will, God said.
Oh, that's wonderful... the man replied...
Take me home, he asked of the Lord...
And God took him home, so he could believe the Gospel.
As it is written, what shall it profit a man
To gain the whole world and yet lose his own soul?
Denis Martindale, copyright, September 2012.
We can hear the word of the Lord on
Revelation TV on UK Sky Digital 581
as well as the WATCH NOW link on
the revelationtv-dot-com website...
poem by Denis Martindale
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Illuminations
Smith is a loyalist good and true,
And a lad of the 'whole hog' class:
And yesterday, when he went to view
The Royal procession pass,
He'd flags in his buttonhole, flags in his hat,
Flags all gaudy and gay;
And he splintered the welkin from where he sat
With many a loud 'Hooray!'
Last night when the town was a blaze of light
Smith was still on his way;
And I saw him pass thro' the brilliant night,
Gaudy, vociferous, gay;
He was still in the fashion and going strong,
And I gather he'd been to sup
For he chortled a song as he went along,
Thoroughly well 'lit up.'
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Bible Stories: Jonah (Part IV)
Chapter 4:
What God had done, displeased Jonah;
In angry mood, he prayed,
‘I knew You’ll show clemency, Lord,
That’s why at first, I fled! ’
‘You’re a gracious, merciful God,
You’re slow to punish men;
And this is what I had said then;
You’re slow to anger, Lord! ’
‘Lord, take away my life from me,
’Tis better, I be dead! ’
God asked him, ‘Is your anger just? ’
Jonah had not replied.
He left the city to its east,
And built him small a hut;
And in its shade, waited to see,
What happened to men, beast!
God made a gourd plant grow over,
To give him more of shade;
Jonah was happy with cover,
His discomfort did fade!
Next day, God sent a worm to kill
The plant which withered fast;
The scorching sun then made him ill,
To faint, he turned almost.
The sun made Jonah angry more,
‘Better I die, ’ he said;
When God asked him, he thus replied,
‘The plant’s death made me sore! ’
And then the Lord explained Jonah,
‘You feel for gourd, not own.
You neither sowed the seed, nor raised,
The plant that lived one night! ’
‘Concerned are you, about a plant
For which you labored not;
And when it perished over-night,
You’re angry enough to die! ’
‘Oh, should I not show concern for
Great Nineveh city?
One twenty thousand men live there,
And beasts- what a pity? ’
Copyright by Dr John Celes 4-25-2007
poem by John Celes
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John Smith's Grand National
'I am going to name the child
after that mare, ' the lady says
haiku by John Tiong Chunghoo
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The Heir Of Lynne
Of all the lords in faire Scotland
A song I will begin:
Amongst them all dwelled a lord
Which was the unthrifty Lord of Lynne.
His father and mother were dead him froe,
And so was the head of all his kinne;
He did neither cease nor blinne
To the cards and dice that he did run.
To drinke the wine that was so cleere!
With every man he would make merry.
And then bespake him John of the Scales,
Unto the heire of Lynne say'd hee,
Sayes 'how dost thou, Lord of Lynne,
Doest either want gold or fee?
Wilt thou not sell thy land so brode
To such a good fellow as me?
'For . . I . . ' he said,
'My land, take it unto thee;
I draw you to record, my lords all;'
With that he cast him a Gods pennie.
He told him the gold upon the bord,
It wanted never a bare penny.
'That gold is thine, the land is mine,
The heire of Lynne I will bee.'
'Heeres gold enough,' saithe the heire of Lynne,
'Both for me and my company.'
He drunke the wine that was so cleere,
And with every man he made merry.
Within three quarters of a yeare
His gold and fee it waxed thinne,
His merry men were from him gone,
And left himselfe all alone.
He had never a penny left in his purse,
Never a penny but three,
And one was brasse and another was lead
And another was white mony.
'Now well-a-day!' said the heire of Lynne,
'Now well-a-day, and woe is mee!
For when I was the Lord of Lynne,
I neither wanted gold nor fee;
'For I have sold my lands so broad,
And have not left me one penny!
I must go now and take some read
Unto Edenborrow and beg my bread.'
He had not beene in Edenborrow
Nor three quarters of a yeare,
But some did give him and some said nay,
And some bid 'to the deele gang yee!
'For if we should hang some land selfeer,
The first we would begin with thee.'
'Now well-a-day!' said the heire of Lynne,
'Now well-a-day, and woe is mee!
'For now I have sold my lands so broad
That merry man is irke with mee;
But when that I was the Lord of Lynne
Then on my land I lived merrily;
'And now I have sold my land so broade
That I have not left me one pennye!
God be with my father!' he said,
'On his land he lived merrily.'
Still in a study there as he stood,
He unbethought him of a bill,
He unbethought him of a bill
Which his father had left with him.
Bade him he should never on it looke
Till he was in extreame neede,
'And by my faith,' said the heire of Lynne,
'Then now I had never more neede.'
He tooke the bill and looked it on,
Good comfort that he found there;
It told him of a castle wall
Where there stood three chests in feare:
Two were full of the beaten gold,
The third was full of white money.
He turned then downe his bags of bread
And filled them full of gold so red.
Then he did never cease nor blinne
Till John of the Scales house he did winne.
When that he came John of the Scales,
Up at the speere he looked then;
There sate three lords upon a rowe,
And John o' the Scales sate at the bord's head,
And John o' the Scales sate at the bord's head
Because he was the lord of Lynne.
And then bespake the heire of Lynne
To John o' the Scales wife thus sayd hee,
Sayd 'Dame, wilt thou not trust me one shott
That I may sit downe in this company?'
'Now Christ's curse on my head,' she said,
'If I do trust thee one pennye,'
Then bespake a good fellowe,
Which sate by John o' the Scales his knee,
Said 'have thou here, thou heire of Lynne,
Forty-pence I will lend thee,--
Some time a good fellow thou hast beene
And other forty if it need bee.'
They drunken wine that was so cleere,
And every man they made merry,
And then bespake him John o' the Scales
Unto the Lord of Lynne said hee;
Said 'how doest thou heire of Lynne,
Since I did buy thy lands of thee?
I will sell it to thee twenty better cheepe,
Nor ever did I buy it of thee.'
'I draw you to recorde, lords all:'
With that he cast him god's penny;
Then he tooke to his bags of bread,
And they were full of the gold so red.
He told him the gold then over the borde
It wanted never a broad pennye;
'That gold is thine, the land is mine,
And the heire of Lynne againe I will bee.'
'Now well-a-day!' said John o' the Scales' wife,
'Well-a-day, and woe is me!
Yesterday I was the lady of Lynne,
And now I am but John o' the Scales wife!'
Says 'have thou here, thou good fellow,
Forty pence thou did lend me;
Forty pence thou did lend me,
And forty I will give thee,
I'll make thee keeper of my forrest,
Both of the wild deere and the tame.'
But then bespake the heire of Lynne,
These were the words and thus spake hee,
'Christ's curse light upon my crowne
If ere my land stand in any jeopardye!'
poem by Andrew Lang
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I Just Shot John Lennon
It was a fearful night of december 8th
He was returning home from the studio late
He had perceptively known that it wouldnt be nice
Because in 1980, he paid the price
John lennon died...
With a smith and wesson 38
John lennons life was no longer a debate
He should have stayed at home
He should have never cared
The man who took his life declared:
He said, i just shot john lennon,
I just shot john lennon
What a sad and sorry and sickening sight
What a sad and sorry and sickening night...
song performed by by Cranberries
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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