Akhenaten Hold Thy Tongue
It's best Akhenaten, to hold thy tongue
Let Sarah’s own deeds determine fate
‘Tis vipers thou and thine walk among
Waver not from truth, thou advocates
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
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Scandalmonger
Good Morrow gossip art thou well?
Methinks thou hast some news to tell,
what scandal now has reached thine ears.
Must thou believe all that thou hears?
And must thou then embroider it
to make a tastier tidbit.
Thou spreadest rumour cheerfully
shouldst thou not tremble fearfully
Does not thy conscience bother thee.
Art thou so blind thou canst not see,
thy flapping tongue doth cause distress
to honest folk who are helpless.
Against thy tongue there’s no defence.
None can proclaim their innocence.
21-May-08
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Awareness
Conscience
Thou art mystery
Love thy yet
Whisper out loud
Open sim sim
Thou allow one
Knowing the code
Thou feel to open
Thou fly
Thou dance
Thou swim
Thou play
Thou thrive on Truth
Truth nothing but the Truth
Discarding worn coat
In oblivion
Thou merge
With infinity
For the time being.
poem by Tribhawan Kaul
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Sonnet: Man, Thou Must Atone Now
Harass me not, Brother, harass me not;
Thou hast made blunder again, once again;
To have redressed my grievances, Thou ought,
Alas! Thou caused my heart to break with pain.
May be, Thou couldst create my file thine way;
Each person's file is maintained by One Boss;
None can prevent Truth's final Win some day;
Thine paper-work will soon be proved as farce.
Please rectify thine past mistakes somehow,
Lest God's punishment should descend on Thee;
Atone thine sin in action now and Now;
Man's cleverness can fai1 him miserably.
Why pick on me when I had done no wrong?
Canst Thou pay damages for suff 'rings long?
poem by John Celes
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To The Supreme Being From The Italian Of Michael Angelo
THE prayers I make will then be sweet indeed
If Thou the spirit give by which I pray:
My unassisted heart is barren clay,
That of its native self can nothing feed:
Of good and pious works thou art the seed,
That quickens only where thou say'st it may:
Unless Thou show to us thine own true way
No man can find it: Father! Thou must lead.
Do Thou, then, breathe those thoughts into my mind
By which such virtue may in me be bred
That in thy holy footsteps I may tread;
The fetters of my tongue do Thou unbind,
That I may have the power to sing of thee,
And sound thy praises everlastingly.
poem by William Wordsworth
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Sonnet- the Physician’s Greatness
O Physician, thou art really great!
Remarkable is thine intelligence;
Adeptly, thou changeth the illness’ fate;
Extra-perceiving man with common sense!
With naked eyes, thou mak’th right diagnosis;
The masses benefit by thine prowess;
Endowed by God with intuition’s largess,
Thou cans’t yet blindly give the prognosis.
The man with knife believes only when seen;
The man with ’scope, magnifies and believes;
The x-ray man sees patients through eyes keen;
Thou man with Steth, by ear and touch perceives.
Thou art the greatest specialist on earth!
Alas! thine number is seeing its dearth.
dedicated to the API (Association of Physicians of India) by Dr John Celes
poem by John Celes
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Lord Jesus, Who Would Think That I Am Thine?
Lord Jesus, who would think that I am Thine?
Ah, who would think
Who sees me ready to turn back or sink,
That Thou art mine?
I cannot hold Thee fast though Thou art mine:
Hold Thou me fast,
So earth shall know at last and heaven at last
That I am Thine.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part IV: Vita Nova: CIV
THE SAME CONTINUED
O world, in very truth thou art too young,
They gave thee love who measured out thy skies,
And, when they found for thee another star,
Who made a festival and straightway hung
The jewel on thy neck. O merry world,
Hast thou forgot the glory of those eyes
Which first looked love in thine? Thou hast not furled
One banner of thy bridal car for them.
O world, in very truth thou art too young.
There was a voice which sang about thy Spring,
Till Winter froze the sweetness of his lips,
And lo, the worms had hardly left his tongue
Before thy nightingales were come again.
O world, what courage hast thou thus to sing?
Say, has thy merriment no secret pain
No sudden weariness that thou art young?
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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The Mother of Beauty and Love
Through thine heart, and times portal,
Thine give me truth and love immortal
No love, if there is love, is like thee
Sometimes I ponder if love is what thou be?
Or if love we did know before was just a charade
A propriety, a clandestine façade
To satiate sinister lust
That infects us…
For when thy walk, thou dance to me
And when thou talk, thou words paint
In my sweet soul of loves immortality
The contours of thy body which hide in my souls eye
thine beauty, mine sadness… should thy beauty die
And thy beauteous soul leave like an autumn tree
All its beauty for my heart to see…
I write this poem to immortality
the mother of love of beauty!
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Though Pot I am, I am Thine Pot!
Potter, Potter, making clay-pot!
Did you make me misshap’n somewhat?
Was it perhaps done on purpose?
Should I blame myself for my cross?
Perhaps, I was untimely born,
Or made in haste, Thine shop adorn!
May be Thine mood was not that good,
When Thou made me out of mere clod!
Perhaps, the mix was rather wrong,
Or else Thou sang a sadder song!
Perhaps, water salty was used;
And so I crack’d a bit when baked!
May be, I wasn’t well baked at all;
Or baked too much: suff’red a fall!
Perhaps, the hearth was not quite hot;
Perhaps, it was my own dear fault.
How do I serve Thee still? I muse;
Though handicapped, could Thou me use?
Could Thou recast my misshap’n form,
So that I can most well perform?
Could thou alter my bizarre look,
Before people think I’m a spook?
Or will I be trampled by men,
Even before I say, ‘Amen! ’
Whatev’r my fate turns out to be,
Let me serve Thee most happily!
May be, I can’t be thine pot sought;
Though pot I am, I am Thine pot!
Though pot I am, I am Thine pot!
poem by John Celes
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Thou Swell
Thou swell, thou witty, thou sweet, thou grand
Wouldst kiss me pretty? Wouldst hold my hand?
Both thine eyes are cute too, what they do to me
Hear me holler, I choose a sweet lollapaloosa in thee
I'd feel so rich in a hut for two
Two rooms and kitchen I'm sure would do
Give me just a plot of, not a lot of land
And thou swell, thou witty, thou grand
song performed by by Natalie Cole
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Thou Swell
Thou swell, thou witty, thou sweet, thou grand
Wouldst kiss me pretty? wouldst hold my hand?
Both thine eyes are cute too, what they do to me
Hear me holler, I choose a sweet lollapaloosa in thee
Id feel so rich in a hut for two
Two rooms and kitchen Im sure would do
Give me just a plot of, not a lot of land
And thou swell, thou witty, thou grand
song performed by by Ella Fitzgerald
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet: Woman
Woman, thy beauty lies not in thine shape,
Nor in the color of thy skin but heart!
If only thou practiced a tongue-tied art,
And modesty with neck with a high drape!
Woman, vie not another feminine,
For jealousy is inborn in thine eyes;
Be not wayward or play the game of dice,
For thou inebriate more than old wine.
Be honest and obey thine husband’s word;
He needs thee in mind/ body and spirit;
Thy patience and love supreme are unheard;
Let not your mind contract a bad habit.
O woman of virtues, thou art the best;
Be thou firm even if death be your test!
poem by John Celes
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Sonnet: Take Me, O Master, Into Thine Vineyard
0 Master, take me into Thine vineyard;
Thou give me any duty as Thou please;
And when I've finish'd show me Thine backyard;
Enroll me vassal, when free of disease.
0 Master fair, Thou give me a job soon;
Thou may pay me anything in return;
To be Thine servant, humblest is a boon;
For then, I can't ever go to Hell and burn.
0 Master kind, any job will suffice;
My precious time, I've wasted for quite long;
Thou give me food, enough to do work nice;
Thou give me work before ceases Thine song.
How lucky 'tis to be in Thine vineyard!
A servant's lucky more in Thine backyard.
poem by John Celes
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A Peculiar Ideal
What thou thinkest, belongs to all; what thou feelest, is thine only.
Wouldst thou make him thine own, feel thou the God whom thou thinkest!
poem by Friedrich Schiller
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To Mine Heart's Captor
To mine heart's captor: thou knowest who for art thou!
With its absquatulation complete, what art thine plans now?
Art thine intentions altruistic and pure-
May thine jollity, these intentions, ensure?
Might thine heart be exalted in consort with mine?
If thee were to seek its consult, how would it opine?
Love knows not impediments, it lasts and grows forever;
Come with me, my beloved, we shall live this truth, together!
Have not thee thought of me, fondly, in mine absence?
The gift of our love is proof of His Divine Benevolence!
Walk this journey called life with me by thine side;
Mine unceasing love shall always, and e'er, be supplied-
For so long as thou art enamored by this offer;
First though, you need remove thine heart from its coffer!
-Maurice Harris,16 May 2011
poem by Maurice Harris
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Sonnet: My Allegiance to God
Thou saved my life so many times till now;
Each time, it was a miracle indeed;
It proved to me Thy magnificent love;
Could I return Thy love with more good deed?
Thou me forgave my sins I committed;
Thou made me feel ashamed of my bad deeds;
Due punishments on me, Thou remitted,
And in my heart with grace, Thou sowed love’s seed!
But earthly-life will pass off peacefully,
For things happen only by Thine mouth’s word;
With Thee beside, who then can me bully?
Thou art my Savior kind, my Good Shepherd.
Thou art my Master true, my Lord and God;
Happy am I, though born a man from clod.
poem by John Celes
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Beyond Compare for MY Lady Irene
Thou art my love, as thou hast been.
Since first I set my eyes on thee.
The ruler of my heart, my Queen.
You are my liege I serve gladly.
The slightest wish is my command.
I will fulfil it if I can
Though thou dost clearly understand
I am no hero just a man.
A simple man and ordinary.
Whom thou hath bless’ed with thy trust
For this I serve thee willingly
My heart commands me that I must.
With thee I have found happiness
That I did not think could exist.
For thou and I togetherness.
Decreed by fate we can’t resist.
Thou art my love as I am thine.
Consenting partners equally.
A union born of love divine.
We are as we were meant to be.
Our fate was written long ago.
Our love will last eternally
and that is all we need to know.
What fate decrees must come to be.
27/08/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Psalm 86
v.8-13
C. M.
A general song of praise to God.
Among the princes, earthly gods,
There's none hath power divine;
Nor is their nature, mighty Lord,
Nor are their works, like thine.
The nations thou hast made shall bring
Their off'rings round thy throne;
For thou alone dost wondrous things,
For thou art God alone.
Lord, I would walk with holy feet;
Teach me thine heav'nly ways,
And my poor scattered thoughts unite
In God my Father's praise.
Great is thy mercy, and my tongue
Shall those sweet wonders tell,
How by thy grace my sinking soul
Rose from the deeps of hell.
poem by Isaac Watts
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The Disciple
Thou wilt my hands employ, though others find
No work for those who praise thy name aright;
And in their worldly wisdom call them blind,
Whom thou has blest with thine own spirit's sight.
But while they find no work for thee to do,
And blindly on themselves alone rely;
The child must suffer what thou sufferest too
And learn from him thou sent e'en so to die;
Thou art my Father, thou wilt give me aid
To bear the wrong the Spirit suffers here;
Thou hast thy help upon the mighty laid,
In him I trust, nor know to want or fear,
But ever onward walk secure from sin,
For he has conquered every foe within.
poem by Jones Very
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Thou Swell
(words by lorenz hart, music by richard rodgers)
This lyrics are like performed by natalie cole
Thou swell, thou witty, thou sweet, thou grand
Wouldst kiss me pretty? wouldst hold my hand?
Both thine eyes are cute too, what they do to me
Hear me holler, I choose a sweet lollapaloosa in thee
Id feel so rich in a hut for two
Two rooms and kitchen Im sure would do
Give me just a plot of, not a lot of land
And thou swell, thou witty, thou grand
song performed by by Nat King Cole
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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