Repenting is more soothing
At my mother’s wilting stage,
I didn’t serve her, nor provided her.
Now I repent.
I repeat it to my father.
I will repent.
Repenting is not compensating.
Repenting yet seems more soothing.
22.05.2005
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Parental Guidance
Sang the Father to his only Son,
'Rejoice! Rejoice!
Before
your life's time has come
'fore it all
is said and done! Rejoice! Rejoice!
Rejoice! whilst thou remains
bless'd vigor and young!
Rejoice in all good humor and health!
Rejoice!
for the inherent miracle and wonder
of creation's living wealth!
Rejoice when thou hath come of age
and like time
I in physical have come to pass
remember to Rejoice then
my torch bearing son
Rejoice! Rejoice!
In singing the collective unborn
death surpassing carol of ONE! '
'Repent � Repent'
hush'd the warning of the mother
to her youngest tight warm wrapped
meek lap sitting
child
'Repent � Repent my timid little lambkin
today whilst thou remains innocent
and the sun doth shine
its ever youthful forgiving
smile
before the furious tempests
and fatherly stallions
of vengeance and wrath
over earth run wild
Repent... my child
Repent
Repent... Repent My tender babe
for every birth brings forth another
bless'd chance to be saved'
poem by Gregory Allen Uhan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Poet and The Angel
The poet woke up in his bed, he dressed and faced the day,
Not knowing what lay just ahead, he paused as if to pray.
Then suddenly, the angel came, right there within his room,
So how could things then stay the same? For that none could assume.
'Write down the words that I impart! ' the angel told him straight
And thus the poet made a start, in fact, he couldn't wait!
'Repent and mend your ways on Earth! Repent and start again!
Repent for every soul has worth. Repent for God not men! '
The poet nodded his consent, the words now on the page,
For this was always God's intent, as seen from age-to-age.
'The choice is yours and yours alone! The same for every man!
And Jesus waits the ones who've shown they wish to serve God's plan! '
How true, the poet sagely thought, there's no excuse at all.
We ought to do the things we're taught, or else we're bound to fall.
'You still have time to do what's right! Repent and serve the Lord!
Arise, stand fast, walk in the light, or else lose your reward! '
Of course, the poet's heart agreed, for that made perfect sense
To each lost soul that saw the need and each one that repents.
He asked the angel, 'Who's this for, lost Gentile or lost Jew? '
The angel shook him to the core, 'These words are just for you...'
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Repent And Be Converted
Repent and be converted,
For there is very little info of the seven heavens that we can see;
Repent and be converted,
For the third heaven is totally hidden from us at this time;
Repent and be converted,
For only a few will be saved in the long run!
But in this never-ending universe,
We need to be very wis in all that we do.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
6,000 Years
Why are they angry?
Instead of repenting, they rose up in hatred;
'Repent therefore and be converted that,
Your sins may be blotted out'.
Every Righteousness brings forth Righteous fruit,
And blessed are those who do keep the law;
For 6,000 years of man's history cannot be wiped away!
Of the Great White Throne,
I am a leopard with the legs of a bear;
Of the small and the great on this earth,
I am a leopard with the mouth of a lion;
But train up a child in the way that he or she should go.
Stories of this world and,
The lack of Character Education;
Condoms do not prevent sexually transmitted diseases!
So why are they angry?
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Redirected
The Phantom spoke. He said repent.
I replied I’m innocent.
The Phantom spoke again annoyed
You must repent or be destroyed.
I can’t repent what I’ve not done
I think my friend you should begone
You seem to have your wires crossed.
It seems to me you have got lost
I am Mother Superior.
I’m not who you are looking for
Why don’t you try the Vatican
where if you try I’m sure you can
find many there in residence.
Though they protest their innocence
Evil men, so called priests
who have behaved like rutting beasts.
Protected by the Mother Church
Which has obstructed every search
Misuse of power to delay
every attempt to make them pay.
The Phantom groaned, apologised
confessed he had been ill advised
and would go to investigate.
The Holy See, The city state.
I understand he is there still
his sacred duties to fulfil.
I rather think that he will be
kept busy for eternity.
25/06/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com.poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Repentance
"If you repent," the Parson said,"
Your sins will be forgiven.
Aye, even on your dying bed
You're not too late for heaven."
That's just my cup of tea, I thought,
Though for my sins I sorrow;
Since salvation is easy bought
I will repent . . . to-morrow.
To-morrow and to-morrow went,
But though my youth was flying,
I was reluctant to repent,
having no fear of dying.
'Tis plain, I mused, the more I sin,
(To Satan's jubilation)
When I repent the more I'll win
Celestial approbation.
So still I sin, and though I fail
To get snow-whitely shriven,
My timing's good: I home to hail
The last bus up to heaven.
poem by Robert William Service
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Hope – We Will Get One More Chance Again
Arrived, an unfortunate day, never imagined, never thought
Humanly activities, abruptly paused.
Many lost the battle of life, many, forced to be locked in dwellings
Deaths and imprisonment, seems like a punishment given by God.
Outside, the grim reaper grins
So, trapped in the houses, repenting for the sins
Distressed, forlorn, can't do anything, have to accept
May be one day, mercy will come and wash away the mental pain, the wounds from the skin.
Our deeds are falling on us, like the drops of acid rain.
But, maybe one day, will be gone, all desperation, all the pain
As we hurt mother nature and Lord, so, repent, let them calm down.
And surely, we will get one more chance again.
We will get one more chance again,
To erase the degeneracy from the soul.
We will get one more chance again,
To show love to the nature, which we never shown .
We will get one more chance again,
To relish the beauty of life.
We will get one more chance again,
To revive the humanity buried inside.
poem by Saarthak Haldar
Submitted by anonym
Vote! | Copy!
Caribou
I live cement
I hate this street
Give dirt to me
I bite lament
This human form
Where I was born
I now repent
Caribou (3x)
Repent
Re-pe-ent
Give me wide
Ground to run
And foregone
Lets me knife
Knife me lets
I will get
What I like
Caribou (3x)
Repent
Rep-pent
song performed by by Pixies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
It is much easier to repent of sins that we have committed than to repent of those that we intend to commit.
quote by Josh Billings
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
You'll repent if you marry, and repent if you don't.
Saint John Baptist
THE last and greatest Herald of Heaven's King,
Girt with rough skins, hies to the deserts wild,
Among that savage brood the woods forth bring,
Which he than man more harmless found and mild.
His food was locusts, and what young doth spring
With honey that from virgin hives distill'd;
Parch'd body, hollow eyes, some uncouth thing
Made him appear, long since from earth exiled.
There burst he forth: 'All ye, whose hopes rely
On God, with me amidst these deserts mourn;
Repent, repent, and from old errors turn!'
--Who listen'd to his voice, obey'd his cry?
Only the echoes, which he made relent,
Rung from their marble caves 'Repent! Repent!'
poem by William Henry Drummond
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Father Boy
Oh Father Boy, Oh Father Boy
You didn’t see the signs
You didn’t hear a thing did you
Oh Father Boy, my dear
You didn’t see, you didn’t look, you didn’t listen either
You didn’t try to understand
You didn’t take the time
You weren’t a Father, Father Boy, you weren’t a Father, Father.
Oh Father Boy, Father Boy
When a Father has a Boy
To be a Father, Father see
You have to see the Boy
The Boy inside the Father
And the Father in the Boy
But Father Boy, Oh Father Boy
You just didn’t pay attention
For a Boy to be a Father, Father
He cannot be a Father Boy.
(Previously published in Megaera, #4, Fall 2000)
poem by Laurence Overmire
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
No Remorse
No mercy for what we are doing
No thought to even what we have done
We don't need to feel the sorrow
No remorse for the helpless one
War without end
No remorse No repent
We don't care what it meant
Another day Another death
Another sorrow Another breath
No remorse No repent
We don't care what it meant
Another day Another death
Another sorrow Another breath
Blood feeds the war machine
as it eats its way across the land
We don't need the feel the sorrow
No remorse is the one command
War without end
No remorse No repent
We don't care what it meant
Another day Another death
Another sorrow Another breath
No remorse No repent
We don't care what it meant
Another day Another death
Another sorrow Another breath
Only the strong survive
No one to save the weaker race
We are ready to kill all comers
Like a loaded gun right at your face
War without end
No remorse No repent
We don't care what it meant
Another day Another death
Another sorrow Another breath
No remorse No repent
We don't care what it meant
Another day Another death
Another sorrow Another breath
Attack
Bullets are flying
People are dying
with madness surrounding all hell's breaking loose
Soldiers are hounding
Bodies are mounting
cannons are shouting to take their abuse
With war machines going
Blood starts to flowing
No mercy given to anyone hear
The furious fighting
Swords are like lighting
It all becomes frightening to you
Know death is near
No remorse
song performed by by Metallica from Kill 'Em All
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The sin for which you repent is the father of virtue; but a virtue that you talk about, is the mother of sin.
Male parental hierarchy.
My parents are two, grandparents four
And great grandparents, eight and so on.
I am known by my father, his father,
And his father and so on by male side.
My mother, her mother and father, their
Mother and father and so on are ignored.
My fathers’ mother and grandfather’s
Mother and so on go to oblivion.
I am known by my father, his father
And his father and so on as a family.
All women from whom I have drawn
Their genes have been shut out.
Parental hierarchy is represented
By male, women dislodged at every stage.
25.08.2009
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
It Is Night Late, I Should Sleep...
I am a tree with beautiful flowers of bloom,
Google is a search engine…
With I unlimited RAM, I am a work engine
In my scheme of things, jucundity is at apex, wait...
It is night late, I should sleep…
Ruefully, I reconcile, repent and weep!
On leaving mother land of effervescent glory,
I did not know what is stored in doom?
Hitherto, They cooked my goose in a sad story,
Nonethess, They hooked me with cheese and bait!
It is night late, I should sleep...
Ruefully, I reconcile, repent and weep!
In the world of cannibalistic crimes and cyber rhymes,
I am metamorphosed into a loner in rabbit hole,
a sullen lyric - loner is a mourner, sings the soul;
Here, lies a man, no wonder he is dead in bed, sometimes!
It is night late, I should sleep...
Ruefully, I reconcile, repent and weep!
poem by Harindhar Reddy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Man’s Role
The elder son of each family
Jointly made a moral code
By which they must not eat
Each other and instead
They could live on their brothers and sisters,
Who are meant to serve them.
The elder sons of the family
Made it a law of their father
With no concern to their mother.
The mother was furious.
The time is not far to neglect
The elder son altogether.
[Father is the God, Mother is the Earth,
the elder brother is man, brother is animals and sister is vegetation]
15.12.2005
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Let me him
I know the law
Of man and of flesh
That there is no justice
Just crimes and punishments
Therefore i beseech you
Allow my son in my hands
You see how he weeps in my bosom
Oh to be of mice and men
i will not die 'til he be cured
Or what good is his mind in a cell
Shall he indeed know life is beauty
But he instead shall rot
his head shall be worse before he ends
As prisons do their best to bring ends
But i will nourish my son 'till death
he will know his sin
he will repent he will repent
i shall have my son
i shall have my son
i beg you have mercy do not kill him
But let me him
poem by Deci Hernandez
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Paganeri episode
Over thirty years, you had been in my brain,
With teenage image in tender plumage,
So romantic, so smart, and so receptive,
In talks, deeds and walks, to hold me captive
Till I saw you, from pain and sorrow,
To only find how withered you became
So dull, so sluggish and so over aged
In talks, looks, and walks to my dismay.
With remorse I wish I didn’t see you.
You would have stayed in me what you had been.
Unromantic mate, you had fallen to,
Like a parrot perking on a thorny plant.
I know your value; yet I missed you.
I could have kindled and preserved you.
No amount of regrets could absolve me
Of the cheat that I’d committed on you.
I repent and repent for my own shake.
A diamond had been burnt to a carbon.
01.05.2002, pakd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Fathers of Atonement
I saw Leonard Cohen on TV
slightly stooped, shining white hair
dinner jacket, black bow tie
it almost broke my fragile heart
to see him there, soft poet of white heat
go forth among a multitude
that did not care much for his art
and were not turned to wonder, nor to stone.
He called us to repent
I don't remember anymore
how to repent, or on what day
falls our Atonement, how I must atone.
I saw my father yesterday
in army gear, his green beret
bearing the red badge of the queen
on leave in an American scene
gunshots rang out, his heavy booted feet
fell on the hills of Israel, Palestine
before my father left
waving and headed slowly down the track
he turned his grey head and looked down at me
he said, leave Palestine alone:
after centuries of peace and rain
they will invite us to come back again.
poem by Frank Bana
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!