the threat in Mindanao
there is no need of a crystal ball to see what is really happening
and why
we shall all predict the next event
it starts with a mild attack and there will be so much
talk over tv and the radio
where the ears of the masses are stuck
they will hear about some ears cut and bodies of children mutilated
buses burned and mass evacuation of
innocent civilians on the hinterlands
of known places
mosques and churches shall not be spared
surely these will ignite religious hatred
and stir the hearts of all
good men
it will take days and days of violence
muslims and christians killing one another
ignoring their faiths within their hearts
that they are brothers
under one roof
if we only listen to the laughter of the lying woman
who plans all these things
to prolong her life
for another set of six years or more
like the old man
who died of lupus
many years back
she learns from him and will work the plan layed beforehand
it does not matter who dies and who kills
what matters most is power
we must not lose track of our belief as brothers
keep us in your mosque
as we too shall keep your women and children in our churches
in our houses and places of peace
we shall remain as children of one God
let us pray that her lies shall not cause the annihilation of us all
we are the true owners of this place
and not her or her cohorts
her own devils spread wearing the faces of gentle men
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Insisting on Peace
Peace is said to be elusive!
But peace is not elusive really
When it is loved and prized
Above other desires
Peace is what we think of
When we hold our children's hands
And behold our futures
In a moment's contemplation
Of our deepest needs and plans.
Bread or rice or porridge
Garnished with some sweetness
And the relish still to come -
So is peace upon the tongue
A simple obligation
Daily duty undertaken
To preserve the space to grow
All we need to learn and know.
And for all the little animals
And the beautiful believers
And their brothers, unbelievers
Faithful equally and true
The little children too
And their own needs and desires
And the dreams they will pursue.
We will love the taste of it
As our hungry souls are filled
Oh, be patient and insist on it
With your friends and enemies
Addicted more to peace.
And since we have no powers
Of stop, search and arrest
We must crowd the hatred
And squeeze the violence
Let them feel unwelcome here
Unwelcome in our homes and hearts
Until they face the mirror
To renounce their brutal ways
To confront the violence of our days.
And by these necessary means
One by one, hearts can be claimed
And freed of all their silent fears
Our hearts employed as builders' stones
To raise up houses of ideals
Where hands can reach out unafraid
And wherein peace securely reigns.
poem by Frank Bana
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Al-Aqsa is in DANGER!
The mosque in our dear country Palestine
The mosque that is pumping in our hearts
The mosque that should belong to all Muslims
The mosque that is slowly falling apart
Where the Zionists have stepped in
With their dirty hands and shoes
They have touched our holy mosque’s walls
The Zionists including the Jews
They are digging tunnels under our mosque
Hoping the Al-Aqsa mosque to collapse one day
They are hoping to build their own Jewish temple as a replacement
That they won’t even let the Muslims enter their mosque and pray
the Jews and the Zionists have stepped in our Holy Mosque
Doing what they please
Purposely stepping in with their dirty shoes
And forcing our Muslim brothers and sisters to leave
How can we stay silent?
And our silence is the cause
Of all of the destruction happening in our holy mosque
Caused by our enemies’ filthy jaws
Al Aqsa mosque belongs to all Muslims
Not just the Palestinians alone
This mosque is our life
This mosque is our home
The Jews and the Zionists have stepped in
Where the prophet (peace be upon him) and his followers once stayed
Our enemies are standing in our mosque with their unclean bodies
On top of the grounds where our beloved ones once prayed!
The Arabs’ silence MUST end
Where we can finally pray in our mosque and here the prophet’s beautiful, echoing sound
And we shall say “No, you Zionists and Jews. THIS IS OUR MOSQUE! ”
“AND YOU ARE FORBIDDEN TO STEP A FOOT ON ITS GROUND! ”
poem by Marria Attar
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Inasmuch As Ye Did It Not . . .
If Jesus came to London,
Came to London to-day,
He would not go to the West End,
He would come down our way;
He'd talk with the children dancing
To the organ out in the street,
And say he was their big Brother,
And give them something to eat.
He wouldn't go to the mansions
Where the charitable live;
He'd come to the tenement houses
Where we ain't got nothing to give.
He'd come so kind and so homely,
And treat us to beer and bread,
And tell us how we ought to behave;
And we'd try to mind what He said.
In the warm bright West End churches
They sing and preach and pray,
They call us 'Beloved brethren,'
But they do not act that way.
And when He came to the church door
He'd call out loud and free,
You stop that preaching and praying
And show what you've done for Me.'
Then they'd say, 'O Lord, we have given
To the poor both blankets and tracts,
And we've tried to make them sober,
And we've tried to teach them facts.
But they will sneak round to the drink-shop,
And pawn the blankets for beer,
And we find them very ungrateful,
But still we persevere.'
Then He would say, 'I told you
The time I was here before,
That you were all of you brothers,
All you that I suffered for.
I won't go into your churches,
I'll stop in the sun outside.
You bring out the men your brothers,
The men for whom I died!'
Out of our beastly lodgings,
From arches and doorways about,
They'd have to do as He told them,
They'd have to call us out.
Millions and millions and millions,
Thick and crawling like flies,
We should creep out to the sunshine
And not be afraid of His eyes.
He'd see what God's image looks like
When men have dealt with the same,
Wrinkled with work that is never done,
Swollen and dirty with shame.
He'd see on the children's forehead
The branded gutter-sign
That marks the girls to be harlots,
That dooms the boys to be swine.
Then He'd say, 'What's the good of churches
When these have nowhere to sleep?
And how can I hear you praying
When they are cursing so deep?
I gave My Blood and My Body
That they might have bread and wine,
And you have taken your share and theirs
Of these good gifts of mine!'
Then some of the rich would be sorry,
And all would be very scared,
And they'd say, 'But we never knew, Lord!'
And He'd say, 'You never cared!'
And some would be sick and shameful
Because they'd know that they knew,
And the best would say, 'We were wrong, Lord.
Now tell us what to do!'
I think He'd be sitting, likely,
For someone 'ud bring Him a chair,
With a common kid cuddled up on His knee
And the common sun on His hair;
And they'd be standing before Him,
And He'd say, 'You know that you knew.
Why haven't you worked for your brothers
The same as I worked for you?
'For since you're all of you brothers
It's clear as God's blessed sun
That each must work for the others,
Not thousands work for one.
And the ones that have lived bone-idle
If they want Me to hear them pray,
Let them go and work for their livings
The only honest way!
'I've got nothing new to tell you,
You know what I always said -
But you've built their bones into churches
And stolen their wine and bread;
You with My Name on your foreheads,
Liar, and traitor, and knave,
You have lived by the death of your brothers,
These whom I died to save!'
I wish He would come and say it;
Perhaps they'd believe it then,
And work like men for their livings
And let us work like men.
Brothers? They don't believe it,
The lie on their lips is red.
They'll never believe till He comes again,
Or till we rise from the dead!
poem by Edith Nesbit
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War Vets Dream
When he came from Nam he had a plan
That not many people would understand.
To help children see that not all in life
Was destruction and poverty.
With death and bombings all around
All he could hear was the children s sounds.
With tears in their eyes and not understanding why
Why so many bodies on the ground
And not a one making a sound.
All he could see was these faces of despair
Children did not understand and could not care.
These visions of the war would
always stay in his mind
From that day forward till the end of time.
He vowed that he would do all that he can
To help all children and his fellow man.
When you see the ravages of war
And a country torn apart
And its people scattered
Then staying alive is all that matters.
He knew that he could not stop this genocide
But he knew for the future children he had to try.
He wanted to create a place called “children s world”
A safe haven for every boy and girl.
A place where children could be children
And war they would not see.
Where they could be with friends and their families.
A place with a roof over their heads
Hot food and a bed.
He knows with time this dream will come true
“It just depends on people like you.”
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Wars Defiant Ones
(7/2/12)
They came back from the war as defiant as can be
As if they had a split personality.
Tragedies had opened up the doors
To many things they never saw before.
Seeing homeless children roaming the streets
Women who didn't listen - would get beat.
Terrorist groups killing their own
Pipe bombs planted, ready to be blown.
Civilians scattering all around
Dead bodies laying on the ground.
Men, women and children in the square
On their knees saying their prayers
But to a terrorist they don't care.
Don't they realize that life must change
Nothing ever stays the same.
Families being torn apart
As death tears at their hearts.
Natural causes kill millions of people every day
Why are we letting war lead the way?
No matter what name for GOD you may use
When it comes to war - we all lose.
Look at the hospitals in a war zone
Children left with no skin and broken bones
People have lost many a limb
The war is getting worse - it looks grim.
YES! AMERICA has lots of imperfections
But people look to us for protection.
Our soldiers After seeing all the atrocities
They come back defiant as can be
To try to change the course of history.
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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unicef**united Nations Interest For Children Of Every Faith
look around, and what do you see
children of all races and creeds
white, yellow, black, olive complexioned too.
don't you realize that they all need you?
look at pictures and read the news
children all over the world
starving and without parents and love.
must they pay for the elders mistakes
must they be the victims of our ignorance.
let us give them what we had as kids.
love, food, affection is all they ask.
look at their faces and think
of your own children and if they would
survive, if they were in their places.
no matter what our beliefs.
we are children of GOD
so let us all do our part.
let us help and love one another
let us all become sister and brother.
don't let our little sisters and brothers starve
open up your minds and your hearts.
give a part of yourself that you
have yet to give
and let these poor children live.
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The World Needs Peace And Love
The world needs peace, the world needs love.
Muslims and Christians are all alike.
The world needs peace, the world needs love.
We don't need another airstrike.
The world needs peace, the world needs love.
People of all colors must be one.
The world needs peace, the world needs love.
All sorts of violence must be gone.
The world needs peace, the world needs love.
Stop killing our brothers and sisters!
The world needs peace, the world needs love.
Stop all these bullshit wars!
The world needs peace, the world needs love.
Stop terrorism, please.
The world needs peace, the world needs love.
Let our children live to the fullest.
The world needs peace, the world needs love.
We must stand together for better world.
The world needs peace, the world needs love.
We are the children of God.
The world needs peace and love...
poem by Alon Calinao Dy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Route March
Did you hear the children singing, O my brothers?
Did you hear the children singing as our troops went marching past?
In the sunshine and the rain,
As they’ll never sing again—
Hear the little school-girls singing as our troops went swinging past?
Did you hear the children singing, O my brothers?
Did you hear the children singing for the first man and the last?
As they marched away and vanished,
To a tune we thought was banished—
Did you hear the children singing for the future and the past?
Shall you hear the children singing, O my brothers?
Shall you hear the children singing in the sunshine or the rain?
There’ll be sobs beneath the ringing
Of the cheers, and ’neath the singing
There’ll be tears of orphan children when
Our Boys come back again!
poem by Henry Lawson
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The Very Wars They Inflict Upon Us
history remembers names
sculpted on white marbles
of soldiers who died
in their own valor
the very wars they inflict upon
us perhaps history too must not forget
the civilian, the innocent children, the crying women,
the mosques, and churches in ashes, the playgrounds missing,
the markets all blown up,
the trails erased one day, the forest flaming, the art museums gone
they planted the mines
and those who may have not forgotten
still clearly remember
on some days while they sleep on bed
some explosions still come alive
the dead still keep on dying
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Spate in Persecution of Indian Christians?
Conversions come from God, the Almighty!
The ways of God are strange, unfathomable;
Christ Jesus forecast persecutions when
One follows Him on road to Calvary.
The Bible is the Word of God, most High;
The words are true and give light to mankind;
The words can work miracles in minds, hearts;
None can prevent the souls that heed His call!
A few fanatics spread disharmony;
The nation ought to ban these groups of men;
They sow the seeds of discord amidst all;
‘All Indians are brothers and sisters’ – Know.
Christians of India are Indians as well.
Why destroy churches, unleash on them, hell?
Why kill and maim the 3% of souls?
They are ready to lay down lives for God!
No one has right to kill or destroy homes;
No heinous crimes on earth go unpunished;
All minorities should be protected;
The fanatics should be booked very fast..
The floods and droughts are killing more people;
Abortions, hunger takes so many lives;
The poor are turning poorer every day;
Why destroy places of worship sacred?
The Holy Spirit will show them the way;
God will punish those who destroy churches;
All violent men will reap a violent end;
All Christians pray God ushers peace again.
The noble work of Indian Christians stand
As testimony to the love of God,
Who loves all righteous souls and sinners too;
Why kill and maim all Indian Christians? –Tell.
Are Indian Christians from another world?
They fought for Freedom and shed their blood too;
They serve to mitigate sufferings around;
Why burn them live as if they had done crimes?
The blood of martyrs has founded the Church;
All Christians wait for Christ’s second coming;
All evil-doers will be punished then, with
Hell’s pit fiery, as their eternal home.
All Christians pray that God should calm the place;
A few extremists can’t sow much discord;
Awake, O Leaders, ‘Make the land aright.’
Democracy of India can’t go wrong!
O Living God, One and Lord Jesus Christ!
Pour your compassion on the suffering souls!
Let religion not cause a deep divide
Amidst the Indians who are all one flock!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 09-21-2008
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What children know (understand)
Children know laughter
They know tears
Children know peace
They know chaos
Children know acceptance
They know rejection
Children know joy
They know pain
Children know abundance
They know lack
Children know health
They know illness
Children know fulfillment
They know emptiness
Children know hope
They know dismay
Children know love
They know hatred
What they don’t know is WHY!
poem by Namie Elisha
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And the children died
And the children died.
Our children kept dying.
Then our childrens child
picked up the struggle,
and they died.
Whether in Belfast, palestine, chile,
or Iraq. They, our children died.
When moneyed powered barons
enjoin to force their farce of alien
thoughts upon a righteous people
our children die.
They, our children continued to fight
and to die.Their bodies piled up.
Sorrow became our life, the blood from
their wounds glistens always in our eyes,
and they our children fight.
Whilst we listen to politicans imploring
us to accept their just peace.
And the children died...
WHY
poem by Johnoe Mc Guckin
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Jerusalem
The holy land of children of Israel
Has been staining with the blood
Of innocent people for such along time!
The Jews, the Christians and the Muslims
Should live in peace and harmony
Side by side on the much disputed land
Since it’s holy to all of them.
The mosque of the prophets
Should be extended
With a view to make space
For all the three adherents of faith.
I know it’s a small piece of land
But we can solve the problem
By building skyscrapers.
O Jerusalem can’t you see
Your children are fighting against each other?
Please pray to God to end the conflict
poem by Asif Andalib
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VANAMIKA – ‘the lily of the forest’
A pregnant Christian mother
Ran for the forest’s shelter
To save two lives!
And in the forest’s coolness
And in the light with darkness
Was born her child!
She named her ‘Vanamika’
(‘The lily of the forest’)
– A mother’s joy!
This happened in Orissa
Where Christians were driven out
To the forest!
Churches have been vandalized;
Most Christian homes have been burned;
Some burnt alive!
Work of Hindu fanatics
Who loot and burn and destroy
All things, Christian!
‘You can change a person’s mind;
You can kill the body too,
But you can’t touch the soul! ’
Christians are followers of Christ;
Soldiers of Christ Jesus;
Children of God.
The Holy Spirit within
Keeps Christians from every sin;
They always win!
O God of Heaven, save us,
From orgies of hell on earth,
Unleashed by men!
Bring back peace to Orissa;
Rebuild churches, homes destroyed;
Spread the Love of Christ!
Send an angel, God, we ask,
For the miraculous task;
All evil-doers unmask!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 10-01-2008
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Christmas Never Comes
Talk about the heart of christmas,
Talk about the reason and the rhyme.
Talk about the sentimental feelings,
Talk about the candlelight and wine,
Talk about the children.
Listen to the voices singing.
Listen to the laughter as they play
But listen to the whisper of a heartbeat
Whose loneliness is never far away.
(chorus)
In some hearts its never christmas,
But its winter all the time.
All our lives spent waiting for the sun,
Children of tomorrow,
How they need a star to follow.
In some hearts its always winter,
For some hearts it seems,
That christmas never comes.
Dont forget the winters children,
Shadows on a star that never shines.
Looking for the love that never happened
Looking for the chris in christmas time.
The lonely voice,
That cant rejoice,
That has no choice.
(chorus)
In some hearts its never christmas,
But its winter all the time.
All our lives spent waiting for the sun,
Children of tomorrow,
How they need a star to follow.
In some hearts its always winter,
For some hearts it seems,
That christmas never comes.
(chorus)
In some hearts its never christmas,
But its winter all the time.
All our lives spent waiting for the sun,
Children of tomorrow,
How they need a star to follow.
In some hearts its always winter,
For some hearts it seems,
That christmas never comes.
song performed by by Cliff Richard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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He That Hath Ears
'He that hath an ear, let him hear what the Spirit saith unto the churches.'-
St. John the Divine.
The Spirit says unto the churches,
'Ere ever the churches began
I lived in the centre of Being-
The life of the Purpose and Plan;
I flowed from the mind of the Maker
Through nature to man.
'I sleep in the glow of the jewel,
I wake in the sap of the tree,
I stir in the beast of the forest,
I reason in man, and am free
To turn on the path of Ascension
To the god yet to be.
'I was, and I am, and I will be;
I live in each church and each faith,
But yield to no bond and no fetter,
I animate all with my breath;
I speak through the voice of the living,
And I speak after death.'
The Spirit says unto the churches
'The dead are not gone, they are near;
And my voice, when I will it, speaks through them,
Speaks through them in messages clear.
And he that hath ears, in the silence
May listen and hear.'
The Spirit says unto the churches,
'So many the feet that have trod
The road leading up into knowledge,
The steep narrow path has grown broad;
And the curtain held down by old dogmas
Is lifted by God.'
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Good and Bad Children
Children, you are very little,
And your bones are very brittle;
If you would grow great and stately,
You must try to walk sedately.
You must still be bright and quiet,
And content with simple diet;
And remain, through all bewild'ring,
Innocent and honest children.
Happy hearts and happy faces,
Happy play in grassy places--
That was how in ancient ages,
Children grew to kings and sages.
But the unkind and the unruly,
And the sort who eat unduly,
They must never hope for glory--
Theirs is quite a different story!
Cruel children, crying babies,
All grow up as geese and gabies,
Hated, as their age increases,
By their nephews and their nieces.
poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
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A Village In Orissa, India
-Where Persecution of the Indian Christian Continues Unabated
A nun was raped by a gang of men;
A priest was beaten; his eyes gouged off;
And he finally died!
Churches were torched;
Sexual assaults are rampant;
Women and children were not spared;
Many were beaten and even maimed;
Some are missing;
Many were burnt alive;
Crowds have run to the shelter of forests;
Homes of Christians have been destroyed;
Many were driven naked in the streets!
Christians of this village live in fear;
Some have reconverted to Hindu faith to keep their lives;
Yet, the Indian Christian was always known for his non-violence;
If someone converts, it is the ‘will of God’.
And such things happen in a secular, democratic country like India!
And while all these terrible things are happening,
The rest of India - people, press, politicians, police
SLEEP
The world goes on as usual;
Perhaps, the beginning of new persecution of Indian Christians
And blood of new Christian martyrs
Is needed to cleanse the land
Of its sins!
God save these poor souls!
Please Jesus, forgive the perpetrators.
WILL NOT THE WORLD AWAKE
TO STOP THE ATROCITIES?
poem by John Celes
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Violence is Evil
let us come together
with clean hearts
throwing out hatred from our hearts
let us work
with one another
in peacful manner
let us ban all
the evil things
that make us
commit crimes
let us be brothers and sisters
who are kind to each other
the world is better
with peace
and unity
not war and haterd
let us be responsible
around us
let us not make
mothers and fathers
lose their kids to drugs,
violence and war
let us ban all
the evil things
in our communities
to be better with our souls carefully
and to live safely
with each other
no one likes violence
but
let us make our goal
to diminish it
poem by Omar Ahmed
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Strong Black Woman
Baby, such a long life, my child
So many stories I have to tell you
Of slavery and of tragedy
Sit down and listen to my tales
Everybody thinks that the strong black woman died
No, she only stood back because she had not cried
She took a minute to rest. She cried. Her heart so heavy
But she’s back, baby. And child, she’s so pretty
I’m a strong black woman, and I am fighting
Don’t mess with me; I’ll leave your eyes shining
I give these children all the love they crave
I’ll beat away any energy that makes life grave
Hallelujah, the strong black woman still lives
Hallelujah, the strong black woman still gives
Hallelujah, can you feel the strength of her?
Hallelujah, this woman is one you can’t deter
Praise the lord’s name and speak in tongues
May all the strong black women live so long
I am a strong black woman, I am here
A strong black woman lives in my heart
Hallelujah, the black woman is so strong
Hallelujah, this has become my favorite song
Hallelujah, the strong black woman prospers
Hallelujah, she is no different than her brothers
The strong black woman never died, she lives
See, no matter what happens she always survives
I am here, I am a strong black woman, in disguise
And this newly strong black woman never dies
Praise the lord’s name the black woman is back
Now the world knows that we survive any attack
Give her all the suffering children or people in despair
Because the strong black woman will return them to air
The strong black woman was not lynched or killed
She gave herself a proud face and lived on so skilled
Praise the lord’s name and know that she lives on
Hallelujah, the strong black woman will never be gone
poem by German Alcala
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