You mock what you want to do
I have mocked many things.
Most of them were beyond my grasp.
I have mocked such things
For which I had unfulfilled desire.
21.07.2004
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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God Has Mocked At Us
GOD HAS MOCKED AT US
God has mocked at us -
Made us so great to ourselves
Made us the center of our worlds
Made us feel as if we are what truly matters-
God has mocked at us -
And taught us how small we really are-
Has made us know the paradox-
Of our being central only to ourselves –
God has mocked at us and exalted us
And enabled us to attribute to God
Our own reservations about ourselves-
God has mocked at us
Do we in mocking ourselves mock God also?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Mother Theresa's 'Poezia
Release me, oh God,
From the desire to be adored,
From the desire to be exalted,
From the desire to be honored,
From the desire to be applauded,
From the desire to be ranked
From the desire to be sought after for advice,
From the desire to be commended,
From the desire to be famous,
From the fear of being disdained,
From the fear of being disparaged
From the fear of being denounced
From the fear of being repellent
From the fear of being forgotten
From fear of collapsing under dishonesties.
From the fear of being mocked,
From the fear of being suspicioned!
Amen.
poem by Masiela Lusha
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The tricky area of sacrilege
‘He has insulted Islam! ’ they cry out,
‘Off with his head! ’
Thereby, some might say,
arrogating to themselves, Allah’s work
upon the jihad of our own true souls;
and 'infidels' might say,
watch out that you don't use
invented victimisation, for intolerance...
for shouting or whispering or even thinking
ill of God, is surely first, to damage oneself;
cutting one off from His mercy, justice, grace..
how can one insult God?
Jews and Christians say,
‘God is not mocked’…
meaning, He is all-powerful, has His own
just, merciful and graceful ways
of redeeming the lost soul…
perhaps we should cry
God is not mocked, a little louder,
that is, those of us who still believe this true…
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Past is dust.
My childhood was not aware that
My adulthood would later mock at it.
My adulthood was not aware that
My old stage would mock at adulthood.
My senescence will be mocked at
By my soul. Every past is dust.
07.06.2004
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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I Was Tired
I saw her again-
brushing her hair
that fell like shiny feathers.
Her eyes had mocked
her solemn face
as though a dagger
has flashed behind her gaze.
She brushed her hair
that fell like shiny feathers
while her eyes had mocked her face.
Her lips do nothing but conceal
the pain that flows like river.
I grew tired watching at her
loneliness that often speaks forever.
I was tired-
so i turned away from the mirror.
poem by Jessel Jane Tevar
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Reaching Out
Reaching out is part of our lives.
We reach out for love and friendship.
We reach out for a great many things
and some of those things we reach out for
fall within our grasp.
While other things we reach out for are unattainable,
but we reach out for them
just the same again and again.
It is up to us to choose which is which.
Love and friendship
are always within our grasp
if we reach out for them long enough.
It is some of the other things
we reach out forever for,
which we can never attain.
Riches and that peace of mind
that seem to elude our grasp,
still we reach out for them
time and time again.
17 February 2009
poem by David Harris
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People Forget
Going out of one's way,
To discredit the deeds done by others...
To portray them with betrayals,
Mocked and displayed to jest...
Has these disadvantages:
God is always listening.
God is a Master at fixing things.
And God is quick to share,
With those who faithfully pray.
Removing deceivers and exposes truth...
For all to see,
Those who have created such falsities.
And eventually there is an exchanging of pain.
People forget,
Whose World this is.
People forget,
What they do is inspected.
And not just left,
To go undetected.
People forget,
Everything done they do is known.
People forget,
What goes down...
Comes back around like a yo-yo,
Going up and down affixed to a string.
People forget,
These things.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Two Things
Two things that come and go—
Happiness and Sadness
Two things that will never leave us—
Fame and Stigma
Two things that will not come back—
Prestige and Life
Two things that come on their own—
Youth and Age
Two things that follow us—
Virtue and Sin
Two things that cannot be contained—
Grief and Desire
Two things that cannot be avoided—
Hunger and Thirst
Two things that bring about a downfall—
Anger and Jealously
Two things that are common to all—
Birth and Death.
poem by Chandra Thiagarajan
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God's Chosen Ways
God has chosen the foolish things to shame those who are perishing.
Just as God’s use of the cross is foolishness to those who are lost.
They’re wise in their own eyes but can’t see through Satan’s disguise.
Satan will use miraculous things, to deceive those who are perishing.
Christ’s cross is power, we rave, for all those who wish to be saved.
But, Satan has blinded the eyes of those men thought to be wise,
And he has also blinded their mind, so that Christ’s Truth is denied.
So the cross is nothing, my friend, to those who seek their own end.
However God is not mocked at all and one day all the wise will fall.
He’ll confuse the wisdom of the wise, and this will be their demise.
Their unwitting spiral into confusion, will lead to spiritual delusion.
They shall believe Satan’s big lie, that he is the god from on high.
His ways are not our ways friend, and this they shall see in the end.
God will bless all who are meek, who the world portrays to be weak,
All the ways of the wicked to date, The Lord will ultimately frustrate.
The humble will be raised by God; the proud His Son will then trod.
The meek will inherit the earth, filled with joy and eternal mirth.
The strong will not fair as well, as they are cast into eternal Hell.
All men who humbly followed Christ, they shall inherit Eternal Life.
While the arrogant fools will be, cast into outer darkness eternally.
(Copyright ©12/2004)
Losing things.
I`ve been losing things,
All my life.
Cameras, people, towels, phones
Lovers, friends.
I am always anxious
For the postman to call.
Losing things.
Waiting for a mirror to fall.
Too suspicious to walk
Under the ladder of it all.
Losing things.
Yet can`t grasp it all.
Losing things.
Objects, losing things.
I`ve been losing touch.
Finding so much
In everything.
Losing things.
poem by Peter Vealey
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Pure
though so many things you want
only one you really desire
though so many things you like
only one you really love
though so many things you own
only one you really protect
though so many things you know
only one you really trust
though so many things will disappear
only one never forgotten
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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The cruel and noble things
The cruelest thing is not doing cruel things.
It is being impenitent to having done such things.
The noblest thing is not doing noblest things.
It is being beholden to one for such things.
24.12.2004
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Gratitude
If gratitude a poor man's virtue is,
'Tis one at least my sick soul can afford.
Bankrupt I am of all youth's charities,
But not of thanks. No. Thanks be to the Lord!
Praise be, dear Lady of all grace, to you.
You were my mediciner, my one sole friend,
When the world spurned me from its retinue.
And I am yours, your bond--slave to the end.
--How shall I tell it you? There was a time
When I was sordid in my unbelief,
And mocked at all things less robust than crime,
A convict in my prison--house of grief.
But that is past. Your pity was the key
Which sent me forth, a broken man, but free.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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It's so easy for propaganda to work, and dissent to be mocked.
quote by Harold Pinter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One's dignity may be assaulted, vandalized and cruelly mocked, but cannot be taken away unless it is surrendered.
quote by Michael J. Fox
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Down and up
Down, I am mocked at;
Up, I am jeered at.
Yet, I haven’t learnt.
01.112008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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One's dignity may be assaulted, vandalized and cruelly mocked, but cannot be taken away unless it is surrendered.
quote by Michael J. Fox
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The End Of An Anchor
I was away for a while
But I'm hoping someday you'll forgive me
But I don't deserve it
I'll cherish it well if you give me
One of your new starts
Just one more last chance
I swear that I'll earn it
If you front me for now
I'm good for it I swear
I'm better now I swear
In earlier days
They'd persecute people
They'd carry them off
And hobble their legs
For lesser offences
Than how I have harmed you
But still you allow me
To walk free of pain
Though I punish myself
I will never settle
The debts I've incurred
For scorning the face
Of absolute beauty
And measureless grace
And though I once mocked you
I'm dying to pay for it now.
I'm dying to pay for it now.
So hand me the rocks
To help weigh me down
And tether my legs with a cord tightly bound to the
End of an anchor
Thrown in to the sound
And test me to see
If I
Will rise
Against
The worst
That it
Can get.
I wasn't well for a while
I savor the things that I knew
Were sure to destroy me
And that seemed to hold me
That seemed to carry me where I couldn't go
On the strength of my own
But I should've known
That that gets me nowhere
I've learned that now I swear
I earlier days
They'd persecute people
They'd carry them off
And hobble their legs
For lesser offences
Than how I have harmed you
But still you allow me
To walk free of pain
Though I punish myself
I will never settle
The debts I've incurred
For scorning the face
Of absolute beauty
And measureless grace
And though I once mocked you-a
song performed by by Dashboard Confessional
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Martyrs, my friend, have to choose between being forgotten, mocked or used. As for being understood - never.
quote by Albert Camus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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