God's Battleground
God dwells in you; in pride and shame,
In all you do to blight or bless;
In all you are of praise and blame,
In beauty or in ugliness.
"Divine Creation" - What a fraud!
God did not make you . . . You make God.
God lives in me, in all I feel
Of love and hate, of joy and pain,
Of grace and greed, or woe and weal,
Of fear and cheer, of loss and gain:
For good or evil I am He,
Yea, saint or devil, One are we.
God fends and fights in each of us;
His altars we, or bright or dim;
So with no sacerdotal fuss
But worthy act let's worship Him:
Goodness is Godness - let us be
Deserving of Divinity.
And of His presence be aware,
And by our best His love express;
A gentle word is like a prayer,
A kindly act is holiness:
Don't let God down; let Him prevail
And write his AMEN to our tale.
poem by Robert William Service
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Hymn 62
Christ Jesus, the Lamb of God, worshipped by all the creation.
Rev. 5:11-13.
Come, let us join our cheerful songs
With angels round the throne;
Ten thousand thousand are their tongues,
But all their joys are one.
"Worthy the Lamb that died," they cry,
"To be exalted thus:"
"Worthy the Lamb," our lips reply,
"For he was slain for us."
Jesus is worthy to receive
Honor and power divine;
And blessings more than we can give,
Be, Lord, for ever thine.
Let all that dwell above the sky,
And air, and earth, and seas,
Conspire to lift thy glories high,
And speak thine endless praise.
The whole creation join in one,
To bless the sacred name
Of him that sits upon the throne,
And to adore the Lamb.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Sonnet 145: Those lips that Love's own hand did make
Those lips that Love's own hand did make
Breathed forth the sound that said "I hate"
To me that languished for her sake;
But when she saw my woeful state,
Straight in her heart did mercy come,
Chiding that tongue that ever sweet
Was used in giving gentle doom,
And taught it thus anew to greet:
"I hate" she altered with an end,
That followed it as gentle day
Doth follow night, who like a fiend
From heaven to hell is flown away.
"I hate" from hate away she threw,
And saved my life, saying "not you."
poem by William Shakespeare
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Loose bond
Loose bond
Heart that beats
Love that sits
In divine temple
Love is very simple
Feel the pulse
Then what else?
Love only understands
It takes no stand
Feels from within
Whether you give joy, happiness or pain
To contain the madness is certainly a concern
Yet it is fine to feel in turn
Feel His presence everywhere
In love, unhappiness and all that you feel fare
You need not go any where
Stay and feel wherever you are
No one can make it beat
No one can provide warmth or heat
It comes for divine seat
Know your self and that's it
Inch forward to receive with care
No one may cunningly dare
It has charm and its own influence
It comes all of sudden and by sheer chance
"Sing no songs in his praise"
Surrender without making any guess
It has tremendous power and strength
Lines vary with different wave length
I would love to see couples and bless
Cheer in corner when find happiness on face
What can be alternative in this trouble land?
You get only foes and no real friends
Human heart must seek loose bond
One must be eager and very fond
Of making others to know about its importance
Love or hate then can be understood in its essence
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Sonnet V: Nothing But No
Nothing but "No," and "Aye," and "Aye," and "No"?
How falls it out so strangely you reply?
I tell ye, Fair, I'll not be answer'd so,
With this affirming "No," denying "Aye."
I say, "I love," you slightly answer "Aye";
I say, "You love," you pule me out a "No";
I say, "I die," you echo me an "Aye";
"Save me," I cry, you sigh me out a "No";
Must woe and I have nought but "No" and "Aye"?
No I am I, if I no more can have;
Answer no more, with silence make reply,
And let me take myself what I do crave.
Let "No" and "Aye" with I and you be so;
Then answer "No," and "Aye," and "Aye" and "No."
poem by Michael Drayton
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Goodbye Mine M.j.
A "Stranger in Moscow" told me that you've gone!
But is it true that you've gone my M.J.?
And with tears in my eyes I say goodbye my M.J.
You who feeds the eyes and the ears
And has graced our African soil
But why did you have to go, you "Smooth criminal"
When you know "They don't care about us"
Tell me, who will "Heal the world"?
Who will make it a better place for us?
Who will give to the poor once and again to their necessity?
Who will be there for them in their anguish and pain?
O', know you not that admired you are of those that hate you most
And did you have to go; or where you too lonely?
But you said "We're the world" that "You are not alone"
Then why did you have to go? And did you leave another "Thriller"
If no, then why choose to be "The man in the mirror"
Thus dirge and elegy now met in my heart. Why?
"Do you remember the time" we first met in my dream
And "The way you make me feel" with your "Childhood"?
Oh king of pop, my M.J., "I want you back"
And you "Got to be there" for me on my birthday
To sing me your song, "Don't stop till you get enough"
While "Rockin Robin and Ben" "Off the wall" till they "Scream"
For your love is magical because you're angelica
You are so wonderful because you're beautiful
You are indispensable because you're irreplaceable
And now I see the "Liberian girl" cry because you're "Speechless"
And upon our bodies the nighted color of mourning you. Why?
Alas death! Why taketh him away when all that look on him yet not satisfied?
O', let not the world lose another "Michael Jackson".
Michael I love you "Yesterday, today and forever."
May the spirit light your way
Through the land of the shadow
To the halls of eternal peace. Amen.
In the cabinet of my imagination, in the treasury of my reason, in the registry of my conscience, and in the council chamber of my thought, there shall you live forever.
I LOVE YOU MINE M.J.
poem by Lightcheerful Briggs
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With deep respect
I couldn't believe eyes
As she was no less then butterfly
Extremely beautiful and matter of joy
Any one would say "hello" and enjoy
Some of the human beings are just not ordinary
Some praise is must and I feel it necessary
No one can deny existence of almighty
So same is the case with the creative beauty
I was moved with her appearance
She was above all and came before me by chance
It was nice to see her in picture
An absolute and beautiful character with figure
"I see your reflection in beauty"
"From all the angles you are present o, almighty"
I can't take away my eyes
As I get up suddenly to visualize
You are with different form
I feel great and unusually very warm
Soul an heart synchronize with each and every bit
I smile internally, praise it and greet
"Can you not create picture in words"? She had replied
"Surely I can as it can be an order from lord" I relied
Made a point clear and tried to visualize each aspect
It was coming out as natural figure with deep respect
To err is human
But to love is divine
As you are helpless in game
No one can share the blame
Love is to felt from within
When you try to close in
It may be physical contact
But certainly a divine and graceful act
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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The Oldest Song
For before Eve was Lilith. -- Old Tale.
"These were never your true love's eyes.
Why do you feign that you love them?
You that broke from their constancies,
And the wide calm brows above them!
This was never your true love's speech.
Why do you thrill when you hear it?
You that have ridden out of its reach
The width of the world or near it!
This was never your true love's hair, --
You that chafed when it bound you
Screened from knowledge or shame or care,
In the night that it made around you!"
"All these things I know, I know.
And that's why my heart is breaking!"
"Then what do you gain by pretending so?"
"The joy of an old wound waking."
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Bill 'Awkins
"'As anybody seen Bill 'Awkins?"
"Now 'ow in the devil would I know?"
"'E's taken my girl out walkin',
An' I've got to tell 'im so --
Gawd -- bless -- 'im!
I've got to tell 'im so."
"D'yer know what 'e's like, Bill 'Awkins?"
"Now what in the devil would I care?"
"'E's the livin', breathin' image of an organ-grinder's monkey,
With a pound of grease in 'is 'air --
Gawd -- bless -- 'im!
An' a pound o' grease in 'is 'air."
"An' s'pose you met Bill 'Awkins,
Now what in the devil 'ud ye do?"
"I'd open 'is cheek to 'is chin-strap buckle,
An' bung up 'is both eyes, too --
Gawd -- bless -- 'im!
An' bung up 'is both eyes, too!"
"Look 'ere, where 'e comes, Bill 'Awkins!
Now what in the devil will you say?"
"It isn't fit an' proper to be fightin' on a Sunday,
So I'll pass 'im the time o' day --
Gawd -- bless -- 'im!
I'll pass 'im the time o' day!"
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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His name
I hear a loud voice in morning "Allah Akbar"
It is heard across the town and even very far
I come out from the bed and look at the bright star
Same glittering and light even placed among small stars
What a pleasant morning to feel with his name!
One may wonder with the little thought "from where he came"
It is time to bow head and offer earnest prayers
Then to prepare for other activities as players
Why other religious places too lag behind?
Same meaning but with different slogan to find
Remember almighty for his graceful act
Owe everything to him for this known fact
O lord Ram or Allah Akbar I honestly swear
I am not afraid from life but have only one fear
Never subject us to feel pain and shed the tears
Only bless us each morning for your name to hear
Even if we are fast asleep you repeat the same cycle
Come out from your vault and make the full circle
Da
y and night take place and make beautiful round
Where on earth human beings find it around!
Kindness emerge all of sudden whenever I see at the cross
Force me to think twice whether life was not at total loss
Did I perform any act that can be detrimental to my faith?
What will I answer when I shall see thou after the death?
I open the eyes gracefully and thank almighty
What a day to enjoy and feel with simple beauty!
Everywhere to see colorful birds and enjoy melody
Endeavour to feel "he belongs to all and not to somebody"
It is time to start with day's routine
Duties and rights both combine
It may be only option to feel fine
As his presence is very much divine
* Lord Ram.. Worshipped by Hindu*
*Allaho Akbar……. BY Muslims*
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Gratitude
"Do you give thanks for this? -- or that?"
No, God be thanked
I am not grateful
In that cold, calculating way, with blessing ranked
As one, two, three, and four, -- that would be hateful.
I only know that every day brings good above"
My poor deserving;
I only feel that, in the road of Life, true Love
Is leading me along and never swerving.
Whatever gifts and mercies in my lot may fall,
I would not measure
As worth a certain price in praise, or great or small;
But take and use them all with simple pleasure.
For when we gladly eat our daily bread, we bless
The Hand that feeds us;
And when we tread the road of Life in cheerfulness,
Our very heart-beats praise the Love that leads us.
poem by Henry Van Dyke
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Cassandra
I heard one who said: "Verily,
What word have I for children here?
Your Dollar is your only Word,
The wrath of it your only fear.
"You build it altars tall enough
To make you see but you are blind;
You cannot leave it long enough
To look before you or behind.
"When Reason beckons you to pause,
You laugh and say that you know best;
But what it is you know, you keep
As dark as ingots in a chest.
"You laugh and answer, 'We are young;
Oh, leave us now, and let us grow:'
Not asking how much more of this
Will Time endure or Fate bestow.
"Because a few complacent years
Have made your peril of your pride,
Think you that you are to go on
Forever pampered and untried?
"What lost eclipse of history,
What bivouac of the marching stars,
Has given the sign for you to see
Milleniums and last great wars?
"What unrecorded overthrow
Of all the world has ever known,
Or ever been, has made itself
So plain to you, and you alone?
"Your Dollar, Dove, and Eagle make
A Trinity that even you
Rate higher than you rate yourselves;
It pays, it flatters, and it's new.
"And though your very flesh and blood
Be what the Eagle eats and drinks,
You'll praise him for the best of birds,
Not knowing what the eagle thinks.
"The power is yours, but not the sight;
You see not upon what you tread;
You have the ages for your guide,
But not the wisdom to be led.
"Think you to tread forever down
The merciless old verities?
And are you never to have eyes
To see the world for what it is?
"Are you to pay for what you have
With all you are?"--No other word
We caught, but with a laughing crowd
Moved on. None heeded, and few heard.
poem by Edwin Arlington Robinson
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Join Hands All People
So many lives changed, so many lost
America fights for It’s freedom, at any cost
Our freedom will never succumb to evil or hate
But this day lives forever in our hearts
September 11th is this date.
Our dead lay before us in the destruction and flames
We look to Bin Laden as the one to blame
The Pentagon in Washingtion, in NY the Twin Towers
After the destruction, the cowards hide and cower.
Join hands all People, join hands in peace and love
Raise your voices in prayer to our Savior above
The war rages on but only through God will we succeed
This war on evil will be won if we let the Lord lead.
On September 11th we witnessed the evil that came from the sky
Causing the strongest of Nations to get on their knees and cry
Love will prevail over this evil and hate
but we’ll always remember the sadness caused on this date.
Our Nation with God’s help will be stronger than before
Gods’ people have opened their hearts and entered His open door
Together, all people, joined as one,
This is how this war on evil will be conquered and won.
Join hands all People, join hands in peace and love
Raise your voices in prayer to our Savior above
The war rages on but only through God will we succeed
This war on evil will be won if we let the Lord lead.
Bless and guide our leaders to make decisions in your name
Forgive the evildoers that caused this destruction and pain
Bring our Nation together joined as One
This is how this war on evil will be won.
poem by Sandra Finch
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I want to see
I don't know about what a way to feel?
Not to express in open but still!
I earnestly feel that she belongs to me
Only she has to respond and make me feel free
"She will come like rain and shower"
"Deplete all her energy and power"
Such words from her drive me to craziness
But I get lost in her glitter and shining face
"I love you" may come to me as recognition
That shall clam me down and need no ignition
She has descended from far and distant land
Taken a vow to stand fast till the end
"Only your picture of thumb impression" I plead
She opens her eyes and coolly tries to read
Extends her hand and invites me to lead
I pick the chance and tie a knot with thread
I float on water with no wish for any more ground
She is there for me to be always found
I can't afford to loose her at any time
Such thoughts invade my mind many a times
Will she emerge on my eye window screen?
What will she be looking like when actually seen?
So far she has eluded me from seeing her in real
Beauty is hidden purposefully and concealed
"I am here" open your eyes and see it happen
You have pulled me near heart is taken
I am at your gate point and wait for entry
What will you be doing to lift me and carry?
Her magical words hunt my memory
I try to pick each word but feel sorry
She is no where around but airs the presence
"I want to see you by chance" and at once
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Intimacy
I hear people say, "I love my iPhone, "
Or, "I love drinking a Starbucks coffee."
Sometimes: "I love my Versace cologne, "
And also: "I love having this money."
I hear people say, "I love my Walmart, "
Or, "I love the drive-thru at Taco Bell."
"I love my TV. It's state of the art."
"I love the shoes that Nike has to sell."
I hear this: "I love American Idol, "
And, "I love a nice, cold Budweiser."
"I love medicines such as Demerol."
And, "I love my internet provider."
Yet, one thing I don't hear is, "I love you."
Saying that is too intimate to do.
poem by Tim Stensloff
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Psalm 110 part 1
Christ exalted, and multitudes converted; or, The success of the gospel.
Thus the eternal Father spake
To Christ the Son: "Ascend and sit
At my right hand, till I shall make
Thy foes submissive at thy feet.
"From Zion shall thy word proceed;
Thy word, the sceptre in thy hand,
Shall make the hearts of rebels bleed,
And bow their wills to thy command.
"That day shall show thy power is great,
When saints shall flock with willing minds,
And sinners crowd thy temple gate,
Where holiness in beauty shines."
O blessed power! O glorious day!
What a large vict'ry shall ensue!
And converts, who thy grace obey,
Exceed the drops of morning dew.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Fitter to see Him, I may be
968
Fitter to see Him, I may be
For the long Hindrance—Grace—to Me—
With Summers, and with Winters, grow,
Some passing Year—A trait bestow
To make Me fairest of the Earth—
The Waiting—then—will seem so worth
I shall impute with half a pain
The blame that I was chosen—then—
Time to anticipate His Gaze—
It's first—Delight—and then—Surprise—
The turning o'er and o'er my face
For Evidence it be the Grace—
He left behind One Day—So less
He seek Conviction, That—be This—
I only must not grow so new
That He'll mistake—and ask for me
Of me—when first unto the Door
I go—to Elsewhere go no more—
I only must not change so fair
He'll sigh—"The Other—She—is Where?"
The Love, tho', will array me right
I shall be perfect—in His sight—
If He perceive the other Truth—
Upon an Excellenter Youth—
How sweet I shall not lack in Vain—
But gain—thro' loss—Through Grief—obtain—
The Beauty that reward Him best—
The Beauty of Demand—at Rest—
poem by Emily Dickinson
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On the Importance of Being Earnest
"Gentle Jane was as good as gold,"
To borrow a line from Mr. Gilbert;
She hated War with a hate untold,
She was a pacifistic filbert.
If you said "Perhaps"--she'd leave the hall.
You couldn't argue with her at all.
"Teasing Tom was a very bad boy,"
(Pardon my love for a good quotation).
To talk of war was his only joy,
And his single purpose was preparation.
* * * * *
And what both of these children had to say
I never knew, for I ran away.
poem by Franklin P. Adams
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Another Acrostic ( In the style of Father William )
"Are you deaf, Father William!" the young man said,
"Did you hear what I told you just now?
"Excuse me for shouting! Don't waggle your head
"Like a blundering, sleepy old cow!
"A little maid dwelling in Wallington Town,
"Is my friend, so I beg to remark:
"Do you think she'd be pleased if a book were sent down
"Entitled 'The Hunt of the Snark?'"
"Pack it up in brown paper!" the old man cried,
"And seal it with olive-and-dove.
"I command you to do it!" he added with pride,
"Nor forget, my good fellow to send her beside
"Easter Greetings, and give her my love."
poem by Lewis Carroll
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Seth Compton
When I died, the circulating library
Which I built up for Spoon River,
And managed for the good of inquiring minds,
Was sold at auction on the public square,
As if to destroy the last vestige
Of my memory and influence.
For those of you who could not see the virtue
Of knowing Volney's "Ruins" as well as Butler's "Analogy"
And "Faust" as well as "Evangeline,"
Were really the power in the village,
And often you asked me,
"What is the use of knowing the evil in the world?"
I am out of your way now, Spoon River,
Choose your own good and call it good.
For I could never make you see
That no one knows what is good
Who knows not what is evil;
And no one knows what is true
Who knows not what is false.
poem by Edgar Lee Masters
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Hymn 169
The Divine Perfections.
The Lord Jehovah reigns,
His throne is built on high;
The garments he assumes
Are light and majesty:
His glories shine
With beams so bright,
No mortal eye
Can bear the sight.
The thunders of his hand
Keep the wide world in awe;
His wrath and justice stand
To guard his holy law:
And where his love
Resolves to bless,
His truth confirms
And seals the grace.
Through all his ancient works
Surprising wisdom shines,
Confounds the powers of hell,
And breaks their cursed designs:
Strong is his arm,
And shall fulfil
His great decrees,
His sovereign will.
And can this mighty King
Of glory condescend?
And will he write his name,
"My Father and my Friend?"
I love his name,
I love his word;
Join all my powers
And praise the Lord.
poem by Isaac Watts
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