This Our Crucible Gifts
this is our crucible
our trial by fire
in molten furnace
we are smeltered
by conflict ordeals
we like ores dug
from yield earth
contain impurities
imperfections
character flaws
we fail to rise above
which limits nobility
of mind impedes us
from quest embracing
enlightening harmony
catalysis furnace
is severe ordeal
life trials killing
off fatal our soul
impurities as iron
ore is tortured
in blast furnace
so are we tortured
broken crushed
liquefied recast
reshaped into new
being like iron ore
we are born free
of dross slag purified
into finest pure steel
thus experience
insight vision
pierces perplexing
problematic realities
with pulse passion’s
need we gift
unguarded
“noblest prayers
to bestow upon
others an eternity
of light
in beautified
likeness of purity
immortality'
fleeting moments
Quotation from the poem ‘An Eternity Of Light’ by Terence George Craddock.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Racing Wind Destination Unknown
gotta go now gotta go soon
racing wind destination unknown
embracing journey knowing arrivals
are but staging grounds foundations
preparing new growth departures
this life our testing by fire purification
embrace fire embrace life embrace decisions
iron ore not tested purified by fire
can never be furnace cast finest steal
yes know this ore is tortured in furnace
only in struggle testing soul is purification
achieved in soul journey to state nirvana
motivated by pain perceived great passion
all sentient beings face trial transformation
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Live In Moments Liquid Life Love Reaffirmed
fear for the few who vampire slew self
within chosen memory prison tortured;
chosen grey each day is despair draped
in memories dark disturbing slaying self;
but arise anew we who flame catalysis passed
through crucible crushed furnace smeltered;
shattered melted molten poured cracks of mind
triumphant light in glass box not contained;
taste freedom liberation air despair dispatched
live in moments liquid life love reaffirmed;
damned who truly suffered hell do not dwell
in wastelands life wasted in regeneration swell;
poem by Terence George Craddock
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An Eternity Of Light
praying is not
in form most refined
imploring God
to bestow define
favour privilege upon self
praying is blessing
to implore God
in noblest prayers
to bestow upon
others an eternity
of light in beautified likeness
of purity immortality
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Deliverance Through Life Choices
all clay is supposed
to transcend life plane prison
all bodies are supposed
to chrysalis seek vision
all souls are potential butterfly
in quest transition
all hearts sincere evolve in purity
light to home heaven
all flesh must conflict mortality
fail experience leaven
all fermentation flesh to brain
enlivens spirit revelation
all divine will is truth hidden
secret purpose is salvation
Inspired by the poem ‘Underneath My Chrysalis' by Unwritten Soul
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Steel on Steel
Strength in each and every part
needs no paltry poet's art
to picture peerless tensile worth
which rhymes through time in class apart
to show glow's incandescent birth.
Hammers heated chain links bind
furnace features, anvil mind,
steel represents upon this Earth.
From forceful freedom's furnace find
fragility, flaws left behind.
18 October 2011
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Four In The Furnace (Bible Poems For Children)
In a far away
land,
Lived a wicked
king.
He prayed to
idols and things.
He told his
people,
Where the idol
stood.
They must pray,
and be good.
Into a furnace,
you will go,
If you, do not bow
low.
Three christian
men, lived there,
Believed in God,
All the way from
Israel they
trod.
Bow, the king,
told them so,
We believe in God,
our answer is no.
Make a fire, hot
as can be.
Who is your God?
We shall see.
Into the furnace,
you will go,
I'll test your God,
then we will know.
In the furnace, the
king saw four.
Quickly, he shouted,
open the door.
Your God is in the
furnace, I see,
I now, resign my
decree.
poem by Heather Burns
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Innocence Matter: Restoration Perfection
Innocence is the question?
Innocence is the X factor?
Innocence is life mortality?
Innocence is sinless state immortality?
Innocence is physical perfection?
Innocence is purity soul divinity?
Innocence is state of grace harmony?
Innocence is Trinity creation link eternity?
Innocence is life breath immortality?
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Necessity Of Interactive Responses Resolved
whatever happens in cyclic life
it is not only good to question
it is necessary to know and act
investigative read hundreds
of snapshot perspective slices
of life become an experienced
translator humanitarian post
trauma conflict situations
learn know multiple realities
not all souls can face revisit
raw trauma sharp experiences
we sing many songs separate
souls vibrating spin hearts need
searching soul will ultimate transfixed find
return in minds resolute pin need
to ghost echoes of songs
exercising haunting siren
trauma infusing their souls
a man woman ready to face depths
of emotional agony intensity like iron
ore tortured in liquid blast furnaces
is ready to endure purification of soul.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Primacy Of Mind
Above the glow of molten steel,
The roar of furnace, forge, and shed,
Protectress of the City's weal,
Now, Learning rears her loftier head;
That Progress may at length descry
It lacks the clue to guide aright,
And, conscious of its blindness, cry
Unto the Muse, ``More light! More light!''
That Wealth may fitly yield the throne
To Letters, Science, artist-skill,
And Matter, willing subject, own
Mind must be lord and master still.
poem by Alfred Austin
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The Song Of Iron
I
Not yet hast Thou sounded
Thy clangorous music,
Whose strings are under the mountains…
Not yet hast Thou spoken
The blooded, implacable Word…
But I hear in the Iron singing -
In the triumphant roaring of the steam and pistons pounding -
Thy barbaric exhortation…
And the blood leaps in my arteries, unreproved,
Answering Thy call…
All my spirit is inundated with the tumultuous passion of Thy Voice,
And sings exultant with the Iron,
For now I know I too am of Thy Chosen…
Oh fashioned in fire -
Needing flame for Thy ultimate word -
Behold me, a cupola
Poured to Thy use!
Heed not my tremulous body
That faints in the grip of Thy gauntlet.
Break it… and cast it aside…
But make of my spirit
That dares and endures
Thy crucible…
Pour through my soul
Thy molten, world-whelming song.
… Here at Thy uttermost gate
Like a new Mary, I wait…
II
Charge the blast furnace, workman…
Open the valves -
Drive the fires high…
(Night is above the gates).
How golden-hot the ore is
From the cupola spurting,
Tossing the flaming petals
Over the silt and furnace ash -
Blown leaves, devastating,
Falling about the world…
Out of the furnace mouth -
Out of the giant mouth -
The raging, turgid, mouth -
Fall fiery blossoms
Gold with the gold of buttercups
In a field at sunset,
Or huskier gold of dandelions,
Warmed in sun-leavings,
Or changing to the paler hue
At the creamy hearts of primroses.
Charge the converter, workman -
Tired from the long night?
But the earth shall suck up darkness -
The earth that holds so much…
And out of these molten flowers,
Shall shape the heavy fruit…
Then open the valves -
Drive the fires high,
Your blossoms nurturing.
(Day is at the gates
And a young wind…)
Put by your rod, comrade,
And look with me, shading your eyes…
Do you not see -
Through the lucent haze
Out of the converter rising -
In the spirals of fire
Smiting and blinding,
A shadowy shape
White as a flame of sacrifice,
Like a lily swaying?
III
The ore leaping in the crucibles,
The ore communicant,
Sending faint thrills along the leads…
Fire is running along the roots of the mountains…
I feel the long recoil of earth
As under a mighty quickening…
(Dawn is aglow in the light of the Iron…)
All palpitant, I wait…
IV
Here ye, Dictators - late Lords of the Iron,
Shut in your council rooms, palsied, depowered -
The blooded, implacable Word?
Not whispered in cloture, one to the other,
(Brother in fear of the fear of his brother…)
But chanted and thundered
On the brazen, articulate tongues of the Iron
Babbling in flame…
Sung to the rhythm of prisons dismantled,
Manacles riven and ramparts defaced…
(Hearts death-anointed yet hearing life calling…)
Ankle chains bursting and gallows unbraced…
Sung to the rhythm of arsenals burning…
Clangor of iron smashing on iron,
Turmoil of metal and dissonant baying
Of mail-sided monsters shattered asunder…
Hulks of black turbines all mangled and roaring,
Battering egress through ramparted walls…
Mouthing of engines, made rabid with power,
Into the holocaust snorting and plunging…
Mighty converters torn from their axis,
Flung to the furnaces, vomiting fire,
Jumbled in white-heaten masses disshapen…
Writhing in flame-tortured levers of iron…
Gnashing of steel serpents twisting and dying…
Screeching of steam-glutted cauldrons rending…
Shock of leviathans prone on each other…
Scaled flanks touching, ore entering ore…
Steel haunches closing and grappling and swaying
In the waltz of the mating locked mammoths of iron,
Tasting the turbulent fury of living,
Mad with a moment's exuberant living!
Crash of devastating hammers despoiling..
Hands inexorable, marring
What hands had so cunningly moulded…
Structures of steel welded, subtily tempered,
Marvelous wrought of the wizards of ore,
Torn into octaves discordantly clashing,
Chords never final but onward progressing
In monstrous fusion of sound ever smiting on sound
in mad vortices whirling…
Till the ear, tortured, shrieks for cessation
Of the raving inharmonies hatefully mingling…
The fierce obligato the steel pipes are screaming…
The blare of the rude molten music of Iron…
poem by Lola Ridge
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Let's Ride With God In Eternity
let us leave the darkness
let us leave the valley of sin
let us embrace the light
let us walk in pure light
let us fly God’s free light
let us ride with God in eternity
let us become angels of light
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Nature Time Safe Viewing Glass Heals Hurt Minds
The Ancient Mariner did stoppeth, who
with 'long grey beard and glittering eye',
only those ready to hear his lesson song.
The broken still fresh fallen, are not ready,
to endure 'A billion microscopic splinters',
or face death of a thousand cuts hurts sucks.
For many filters, wonder splice experiences,
refract rainbow colours split light scientific,
harmony inscribed multiplicity nature; heals
through safe viewing glass, cruel dimensional
realities do not bite strike sensitive mind chimes,
within ice unnerving chilly colours, soft filters
a safe distance insulated; observational reality,
disaster spaced is achieved to protect mortality;
not all have character strength source flexibility
First quotation from line three of ‘The Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner’ by Samuel Taylor Coleridge.
Second quotation from line three of ‘Soulless Man’ by Terence George Craddock.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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World Economic Forum
The world economic climate
is slipping down a slippery slope
all blind Swiss analysis sees
is seamless digital PC data shifts
iron age fossil furnace defences
are melting massive ice caps
global warming sea level rising
corrective measures made lukewarm.
Who will take the heat?
Who will weather the storm?
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Experience Cosmic Whisper
experience
mind
non-talkative
experience
past
present future
experience
time
as eternity
split
second
causality
single
moment
eternity
cosmic
whisper
eureka
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Holy River
Washed in the Holy River, purified by faith,
Darkness calls but is seen dead like a wraith,
Your spirit, enlivened by the Holy Dove,
Desert wastelands beckon, calling to your love,
Fountains of JOY bubbling beneath the surface,
You remain FREE from the devils furnace,
Your life a prayer mastered,
Your fathers call is answered!
In your eyes I see my souls reflection,
Breathe the spirit of souls redemption.
Your heart and mind are at one,
It seems your work is never done.
Forgiveness feeds your soul,
Your Love and peace make us whole,
Spirit cleansed to perfection,
We dream of your selection,
Fountains of JOY bubbling beneath the surface,
You remain FREE from the devils furnace,
Your life a prayer mastered,
Your fathers call is answered!
When the waters lie still at night,
Under a sliver of moon we see your light,
Giving us hope to rise up, never give in,
We defend our right to end all sin.
April 2012
poem by David Andre' Klopper
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Guidance Absence Prudence
“God chooses
God keeps secrets
too many secrets”
far too many
guidance is there any
for life decisions heavy?
We need a little guidance
more faith more patience
forbearance offers balance.
First stanza quotation from the poem ‘Perplexing Divine Decisions’ by Terence George Craddock.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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You are the gold!
You are the gold yet to be polished,
Unearthed from the mine's womb,
You have to glitter to show your luster,
You are undergone the heat meditation,
In the hot furnace to melt and strip,
All the impurities and weakness of you,
Strengthened with amalgamation,
In which you are combined with experience,
To be strong to take all the beats,
To be malleable and ductile,
Sometimes you are simply poured in the mold,
Sometimes you are heavily electrolyzed,
In the acidic medium, where you can coat,
Anything that has to hide its flaws,
Even if you are thrown into the ditch,
Someone will pick up and keep you in their heart,
You are the gold, undergoing lots of pressure,
To make you as the ornaments,
For the lovely diamond to rest,
You are the gold, shines as the Sun,
Or yet to shine at least as the moon,
Still you are very precious,
For those who knows your value.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Mystic Meanings Cosmic Revelation
mystic meanings cosmic revelation
inspiration of an inspired moment
counted in sunlight grains of sand
inspiration in split instant moment
pierces third eye in beams of light
pierces blue sky in genius of ages
shines on set sun dial of creativity
butterfly metamorphosis a nativity
starlight birth witnessed by angels
ascendant incense prayers answered
upon wings of prayers descendant
upon answered prayers generations
awaited generations to thrill delight
where are words to praise this night
to describe a miracle born birth light
angelic voices in symphony myriads
sing praise God’s gift this holy night
God so loved his world in blessings
gift perfect soul ransom price paid
ransom of love was freely bestowed
wages of sin conquered by a perfect
soul given in love all heard the word
gospels writ inspired in Holy Spirit
would across all earth spread light
preached to an entire world in light
lost restored in a single Holy Night
any may embrace blessed divine light
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Old Revolution
I finally broke into the prison,
I found my place in the chain.
Even damnation is poisoned with rainbows,
all the brave young men
they're waiting now to see a signal
which some killer will be lighting for pay.
Into this furnace I ask you now to venture,
you whom I cannot betray.
I fought in the old revolution
on the side of the ghost and the King.
Of course I was very young
and I thought that we were winning;
I can't pretend I still feel very much like singing
as they carry the bodies away.
Into this furnace I ask you now to venture...
Lately you've started to stutter
as though you had nothing to say.
To all of my architects let me be traitor.
Now let me say I myself gave the order
to sleep and to search and to destroy.
Into this furnace I ask you now to venture...
Yes, you who are broken by power,
you who are absent all day,
you who are kings for the sake of your children's story,
the hand of your beggar is burdened down with money,
the hand of your lover is clay.
Into this furnace I ask you now to venture
song performed by by Leonard Cohen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Quicksilver Fever
You left
on a Friday
lifetimes ago
you chose
not
to see me
again and again
soon
I must
choose
a place
that does not
include you
where pain
loneliness
disappointment
can
touch me
no more
far far away
a new place
where disappointment
can hurt me
no more
where fresh memories
cannot run
like fever
like fresh
quicksilver fever
in my veins
a place
my still beating
heart may be still
and all thought
is suspended
in the eternity
of a restful
moment where
heart and mind
beat pulse
in unity unending
where molten liquefied
white globular metal
pulses not in seared veins
poem by Terence George Craddock
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