Confession
I’m an unworthy vessel,
a rusty cup.
I foul your pure wine
with my common
corruption,
and yet
unreasonably
you fill me up again.
Brimful with your
glittering love
I become
a golden chalice
to hold your sacred
blood.
poem by Steven Federle
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Related quotes
City of Love
Ode to joy, from the chalice filled with wine, from the chalice filled with light.
Ode to darkness, the shadows dress confess the blackness, confined to trials and tribulations, we seek the hour of consumation. We seek the divinity, by candles, prayers and charity. The chalice of love, the city of love beside the sea.
Ode to the chalice filled with light, ode to the wind, carrying the breath
of psalms, upon ashes smeared on palms. Ode, to this light, to the blood raised in wine, the cross and loss, divine, the holy shroud of white.
Tin Cup Chalice
By: jimmy buffett
1974
I wanna back to the island
Where the shrimp boats tie up to the pilin
Gimme oysters and beer
For dinner every day of the year and Ill feel fine
Ill feel fine
Chorus:
I wanna be there
Wanna go back down and lie beside the sea there
With a tin cup for a chalice, fill it up with good red wine
And Im a chewin on a honeysuckle vine
Yeah now, the sun goes slidin cross the water
Sailboats they go searchin for the breeze
Salt air it aint thin
It can stick right to your skin and make you feel fine
Makes you feel fine
Chorus:
I wanna be there
Wanna go back down and a get high by the sea there
With a tin cup for a chalice, fill it up with good red wine
And Im a chewin on a honeysuckle vine
Yes and now you heard my strange proposal
So get that packard up and lets move
I wanna be there before the day
Tries to steal away and leave us behind
Ive made up my mind
Chorus:
And I wanna be there
I wanna go back down and die beside the sea there
With a tin cup for a chalice, fill it up with good red wine
And Im a chewin on a honeysuckle vine
Coda:
Yeah with a tin cup for a chalice, fill it up with good red wine
And Im a chewin on a honeysuckle vine
Again... to miss jane
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Sonnet
PURE form, that like some chalice of old time
Contain'st the liquid of the poet's thought
Within thy curving hollow, gem-enwrought
With interwoven traceries of rhyme,
While o'er thy brim the bubbling fancies climb,
What thing am I, that undismayed have sought
To pour my verse with trembling hand untaught
Into a shape so small yet so sublime?
Because perfection haunts the hearts of men,
Because thy sacred chalice gathered up
The wine of Petrarch, Shakspere, Shelley -- then
Receive these tears of failure as they drop
(Sole vintage of my life), since I am fain
To pour them in a consecrated cup.
poem by Edith Wharton
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The Vessel That I am!
I am a weak vessel.
Strengthen me, O Lord!
Help me fill up to the brim
With virtues of all sorts.
I am a small vessel.
Make me hold more, O Lord!
Take away my porosity;
Let things remain intact.
I am a clay vessel.
Polish my sides, O Lord!
Let me stand most splendidly,
Glorifying my God.
I am a mere vessel,
Distorted somewhat, O Lord!
Place me on a rocky base,
To show the world my class!
The vessel whatever that I am
Will serve Thee only, Lord.
Fill me up with thy grace, O God
To prove that I’m fine clod!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 2-1-2009
poem by John Celes
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Ode To Wine
Day-colored wine,
night-colored wine,
wine with purple feet
or wine with topaz blood,
wine,
starry child
of earth,
wine, smooth
as a golden sword,
soft
as lascivious velvet,
wine, spiral-seashelled
and full of wonder,
amorous,
marine;
never has one goblet contained you,
one song, one man,
you are choral, gregarious,
at the least, you must be shared.
At times
you feed on mortal
memories;
your wave carries us
from tomb to tomb,
stonecutter of icy sepulchers,
and we weep
transitory tears;
your
glorious
spring dress
is different,
blood rises through the shoots,
wind incites the day,
nothing is left
of your immutable soul.
Wine
stirs the spring, happiness
bursts through the earth like a plant,
walls crumble,
and rocky cliffs,
chasms close,
as song is born.
A jug of wine, and thou beside me
in the wilderness,
sang the ancient poet.
Let the wine pitcher
add to the kiss of love its own.
My darling, suddenly
the line of your hip
becomes the brimming curve
of the wine goblet,
your breast is the grape cluster,
your nipples are the grapes,
the gleam of spirits lights your hair,
and your navel is a chaste seal
stamped on the vessel of your belly,
your love an inexhaustible
cascade of wine,
light that illuminates my senses,
the earthly splendor of life.
But you are more than love,
the fiery kiss,
the heat of fire,
more than the wine of life;
you are
the community of man,
translucency,
chorus of discipline,
abundance of flowers.
I like on the table,
when we're speaking,
the light of a bottle
of intelligent wine.
Drink it,
and remember in every
drop of gold,
in every topaz glass,
in every purple ladle,
that autumn labored
to fill the vessel with wine;
and in the ritual of his office,
let the simple man remember
to think of the soil and of his duty,
to propagate the canticle of the wine.
poem by Pablo Neruda
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Christmas Song
She was his girl, he was her boyfriend
Shed be his wife, and make him her husband.
A surprise on the way any day any day
One healthy little giggling, dribbling baby boy
The wisemen came, three made their way
To shower him with love while he lay in the hay
Shower him with love, love, love
Love,love,love
Love,love was all around.
Not very much of his childhood was known
Kept his mother mary worried always out on his own
He met another mary, who for a reasonable fee,
Less than reputable was known to be
His heart was full of love, love, love
Love, love, love
Love, love was all around.
When jesus christ nailed to his tree
Said oh daddy-o, I can see how it all soon will be
I came to shed a little light on this darkening sea
Instead I fear Ive spilled the blood of my children all around
The blood of my children all around
The blood of my childrens all around.
So Im told, so the story goes
The people he knew were less than golden-hearted
Gamblers and robbers,
Drinkers and jokers, all soul searchers
Like you and me, like you and me
Rumors insisted that he soon would be
For his deveations taken into custody
By the authorities, less informed than he
Drinkers and jokers, all soul searchers
Searching for love, love, love
Love, love, love
Love, love was all around.
Preparations were made for a celebration day
He said eat this bread but think of it as me
Drink this wine and dream it will be the blood of our children all around
The blood of our children all around
The blood of our children all around
Father up above
Why in all this hatred do you fill me up with love, love, love
Love, love, love
Love, love is all around
Father up above
Why in all this hatred do you fill me up with love, fill me love, love, yeah
Love, love, love
Love, love, and the blood of our children all around.
song performed by by Dave Matthews Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Three Wives Of A Mandarin
Lawful wife.
There is still some wine left in the chalice,
And the plate that’s served is nests of the swallows.
Since the birth of time, the legal spouse
Is respected by her mandarin-husband.
Concubine
There is still some wine left in the chalice,
And the plate is served – duck: fat and heavy;
Should a mandarin be deprived of children -
Concubine is needed for a mandarin.
Maid
There is still some wine left in the chalice,
And the plate is served - preserves and marmalade.
Why the two of you are in his house?
Every night a new woman he desires.
Mandarin
There is no more wine left in the chalice,
And the plate that’s served is hot red pepper.
Silence! O you: bunch of silly blabbers,
Dare you laughing at the poor old mandarin.
poem by Nikolai Stepanovich Gumilev
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Esther, A Sonnet Sequence: XXI
If I have since done evil in my life,
I was not born for evil. This I know.
My soul was a thing pure from sensual strife.
No vice of the blood foredoomed me to this woe.
I did not love corruption. Beauty, truth,
Justice, compassion, peace with God and man,
These were my laws, the instincts of my youth,
And hold me still, conceal it as I can.
I did not love corruption, nor do love.
I find it ill to hate and ill to grieve.
Nature designed me for a life above
The mere discordant dreams in which I live.
If I now go a beggar on the Earth,
I was a saint of Heaven by right of birth.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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To My Godchild Alice
ALICE, Alice, little Alice,
My new-christened baby Alice,
Can there ever rhymes be found
To express my wishes for thee
In a silvery flowing, worthy
Of that silvery sound?
Bonnie Alice, Lady Alice,
Sure, this sweetest name must be
A true omen to thee, Alice,
Of a life's long melody.
Alice, Alice, little Alice,
Mayst thou prove a golden chalice,
Filled with holiness like wine:
With rich blessings running o'er
Yet replenished evermore
From a fount divine:
Alice, Alice, little Alice,
When this future comes to thee,
In thy young life's brimming chalice
Keep some drops of balm for me!
Alice, Alice, little Alice,
Mayst thou grow a goodly palace,
Fitly framed from roof to floors,
Pure unto the inmost centre,
While high thoughts like angels enter
At the open doors:
Alice, Alice, little Alice,
When this beauteous sight I see,
In thy woman-heart's wide palace
Keep one nook of love for me.
Alice, Alice, little Alice,--
Sure the verse halts out of malice
To the thoughts it feebly bears,
And thy name's soft echoes, ranging
From quaint rhyme to rhyme, are changing
Into silent prayers.
God be with thee, little Alice,
Of His bounteousness may He
Fill the chalice, build the palace,
Here, unto eternity!
poem by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
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The World Is A Sacred Vessel
'The world is a sacred vessel...' Thomas Merton
blue vessel
in black vacuum
miracle world
encircling
thrall of this perfect star
sacred vessel,
His living cup
to beloved proffered,
wedding gift
beyond measure.
poem by Steven Federle
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The chalice was suspended in the air
The chalice was suspended in the air
Like the golden sun for a splendid moment.
Here only Greek should be heard:
To take the whole world in your hands, like a simple apple.
The triumphal zenith of the service,
Light in a round room under a cupola in July,
So outside of time we could fully sigh
About that meadow, where time doesn't fly.
The Eucharist drags on like an eternal noon --
Everyone takes the Sacrament, performs, and sings,
In view of everyone the sacred vessel
Pours out with inexhaustible rejoicing.
poem by Osip Emilevich Mandelstam
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Little Tear-Vase
Other vessels hold wine, other vessels hold oil
inside the hollowed-out vault circumscribed by their clay.
I, as smaller measure, and as the slimmest of all,
humbly hollow myself so that just a few tears can fill me.
Wine becomes richer, oil becomes clear, in its vessel.
What happens with tears?-They made me blind in my
glass,
made me heavy and made my curve iridescent,
made me brittle, and left me empty at last.
Translated by Stephen Mitchell
poem by Rainer Maria Rilke
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In My Silence I Am Breaking
i am an empty vessel
why not fill me up a little
with your cool water
it will really matter
i am an empty vessel
for a long time now
wanting to be contained
in your fullness
you may please
fill me up to my brim
if it is possible with you
fill me with your cool waters
let me overflow
with your love
and understanding
in my emptiness
i am howling
in my silence
i am breaking
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Rewarding Time
the most rewarding time in life
is when i could sit and write
i write about things that were and things that can be
if i let my mind run free
and this is what came to me.
looking for someone who really cares
deceit and corruption is every where
it can be found from the highest
hill to the lowest ground.
at every turn-just look around.
when you look at the news every day
another politician has gone astray
they go with people who can line their pockets
and when they're hooked
they pull out their eyesockets.
families are torn apart
and thats just the start.
because the loved ones did not
fill their hearts with greed
it was just an implanted seed.
the seed of corruption and despair
.is spreading out everywhere.
you'll see it in politics, sports, buisnesses.
and even in the churches, and schools
for this is becoming the golden rule.
this is what comes to me, and this is what i see.
all of them are living in pure hypocrisy.
poem by Louis Rams
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Holy Grail-holy Blood
Men have quested for 'The Holy Grail”
A simple vessel, or jeweled chalice
Why do intrepid seekers always fail?
Is it because of voracity and malice?
Alas, they’ve looked in all the wrong places
Overlooked, a “Hide in plain sight” truism
Human bodies are God’s sacred vases
Blood coursing within, a guiltless baptism
There come a joyous day when Christ returns
However, not the way it’s been wrongly taught
When Christ-Fire within our hearts re-burns
Found! The Holy Grail, man has always sought
Jesus once said “You’ll be greater than I”
Will come to pass, when all self-sanctify
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
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Love's Prayer
Beloved, this the heart I offer thee
Is purified from old idolatry,
From outworn hopes, and from the lingering stain
Of passion's dregs, by penitential pain.
Take thou it, then, and fill it up for me
With thine unstinted love, and it shall be
An earthy chalice that is made divine
By its red draught of sacramental wine.
poem by Lucy Maud Montgomery
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Blemishes
Without assent
I open your book
to find your crazy god on mat.
Love was a blind bird
in a state of agony.
Learning to fly.
Moon would not reply
through aslant door.
Something was between us.
Here, now a sordid tale
breaks the taboo. They
were investing on skin.
It was a cheap wine
in a golden chalice,
for a lipless mouth.
poem by Satish Verma
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Unfill The Vessel To Again Fill
Tiny tale for a sale.
People from sands to vale.
Joy of praise to cheers.
A way from cut to sheers.
Jack beside Jill, to the hill.
Unfill the vessel to again fill.
Shiny white snow and blue sky.
Clouds over the hill they fly.
Sounds of roar still we dare.
Prize of present got to share.
Counted already million still its nill.
Unfill the vessel to again fill.
Warm of sun, Shades of the dark.
Rest on woods, Expectant on the park.
Worlds got lot of adversary and misery.
Rest of peace is core and treasury.
Still travel till you find it until.
Unfill the vessel to again fill.
poem by Diplove gautam
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Unworthy, I Am
Unworthy, i am - Against your kindness, which rings the bells true to your charm - I am unworthy, i am - you are a rose at full to a Spring bloom, displaying the magic inside you aura, the one which shines with love - Am i unworthy - To receive your love with wide open arms, with the emotions of love, by your hugs and kisses - Am i unworthy - To accept your kindness, to inhale your charm and to whisper in your ear, i love you - I am more than worthy, i am happy at last
poem by Unic Cjonr
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