Tilting Windmills
A few
scribbled words.
Puny insignificant
things.
In themselves.
Yet spiritual vibrations
signalling divine power!
To rock capitalistic nations
structured exploitation crime core!
Covetous entrenched foundations.
Bullets by contrast
at their optimum.
May produce
only deadfall.
Steaming felled corpse.
Life crushed
can be taken
only once.
Guarded man
may so easily
be struck down.
But dreams
craving truth
cannot be silenced!
Visions dreamt
born to life
suffer birth pangs!
Even those garmented
in martyr’s blood!
May elevate
laboured protracted existence!
A few scribe
scribbled words.
Puny insignificant
tiny things.
In themselves.
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Mediocrity or purpose divine.
A poem does not look much,
Just scribbled on any scrap
Of available paper or tissue.
Put it into print,
Give it a title.
All can be revealed
in an instant.
Mediocrity or purpose divine.
A poem does not always
Seem relevant.
Just scribbled with
Errors and adjustments.
Crossed out lines and words.
Does not do it justice.
Put it into print.
Give it a name or two.
All will unfold,
In an instant.
How pompous it all seems,
This little old poem divine
That started off as solely mine.
In a terrible dream.
I escaped to find reality.
.
poem by Peter Vealey
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
That Way He had.
That way he had with words,
That tone he could produce to
Make you go weak at the knees.
You remember him; the photograph
Did it, brought him to mind. You turn
It over, see the scribbled writing on
The back. A poem he wrote, scribbled
Down. The blue has faded, the ink dried
To a death, yet the written words remain,
The message clear: he loved you, compared
You to some summer’s day, not original,
But moving in its way. Copied out of some
Book, no doubt, Shakespearean sonnet, word
For word, the meaning meant, the message
All set down. You kiss the photograph, cry,
Laugh. What a place to drown; what a place
To depart and break a heart: drunk in a bath.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
View from above
Look at all the little people
Insignificant lost souls
Hurrying, scurrying below
Like some fast-forward picture show.
Always moving rarely balking
And when walking hardly talking
Tiny animated shadows
Puny dots moving to and fro.
If they were me where I now stand
The whole of them would understand
They’re human lemmings on the run
Behind their leaders one by one.
From high above this bizarre scene
I see folly in their routine.
poem by Albert Ahearn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
In The End
Sacrifice!
Christ-like sacrifice!
Pass that cup to me
I will bear the price
If the puny and insignificant
Are to have a glimpse of peace
Then someone much like I myself
Almost exactly like I myself
Must rise above the rabble
By helping them to their knees
As this is how I see myself
I might as well anoint myself
For the greater good of us all
Youll thank me in the end
For the loss of the weak and small
Youll thank me in the end
Though it may seem painful at first
Youll thank me in the end
And youll wonder how things could get worse
You may not reach the end
Speak my name as your last breath is spent
When you were lost in your ignorant haze
And afraid of the dark
I led you out again!
When you dreamed that God was love
And life was a lark
I woke you up again!
For my sacrifice
Who will bear the price?
The extraordinary problems
That occur from day to day
Require somebody like myself
Lets say exactly like I myself
So that ordinary labors
May proceed with least delay
So weve elected me myself
Since we can think of no one else
When youre in the mood to complain
Youll call me in the end
Then for things that Ill do in your name
Youll blame me in the end
But if I use the right choice of words
Your family and friends
Youd betray like a cowardly turd
Then refuse to watch the end
Then well go through the whole thing again
And when Im standing astride your backs
With my head in the stars
Youll take me in the end
While Im bending you over and
Screwing you hard in the arse
Youll love me in the end
Pass that whip to me
Let us raise the price
Sacrifice!
Never knowing love
Just so you can believe a power above
This is my sacrifice!
Youll thank me
Youll thank me in the end
Youll like me in the end
Youll love me in the end
Youll praise me in the end
Youll thank me
song performed by by Todd Rundgren
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Words of Comfort
In my mind thoughts will flow, from The Truth I have come to know,
To words of light and encouragement, to the places I’ve been sent.
A comfort to all who do believe, and a light to all who are deceived,
God’s encouragement to a brother, while words of Truth to another.
Comforting words that I can say, to brighten a brother’s dismal day,
Words filled with hope and love, that point to our Savior, up above.
Words of Truth that only come, through The Spirit from God’s Son,
Who comes to dwell in our heart, from where words He does impart.
This to bring the lost to The Truth, through loving words not reproof,
So through our words men can see, The Loving Father of all Eternity,
Who came to die, to give us life, through His Only Son, Jesus Christ.
Who now lives, so that all men, through The Son can be Born Again.
Then receive The Spirit spoken of, when they accept His Son’s Love.
To be used upon this temporal earth, through the power of New Birth,
And the washing and regeneration, through His Blood unto Salvation.
Which only comes from God’s Son, the Lord and Savior of everyone.
You too will share the Living Word, speaking Truth until all have heard,
The saving Truth of God’s Salvation, Christ who came for every nation.
And then you will be a comfort too, to all who believe like me and you,
Speaking words of comfort friend, about life in Christ that has on end.
(Copyright ©06/2007)
The truth that many people never understand, until it is too late, is that the more you try to avoid suffering the more you suffer because smaller and more insignificant things begin to torture you in proportion to your fear of being hurt.
quote by Thomas Merton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Thoughts Of Him
Yes my friend, there's only one, He is Almighty God's Eternal Son.
Yes indeed He's coming again, so are you really ready my friend?
You can be filled with His Power, in this dark and crucial hour.
What ever you are contemplating, He comes to those who are waiting.
With a heart filled with love, you can be fit for The Kingdom above.
The only way to truly start is to accept The Lord into your heart.
If your decision is truly sincerely, you will have nothing to fear.
From the cross He has one plea, believe in Me and I'll set you free.
The Cross is something to cherish, for without we all would perish.
For Christ Jesus died upon a tree, for sinful people like you and me.
His words to us are very clear, the reason why we're left down here.
I was bought with an awesome cost, to seek out those who are lost.
Jesus filled me with compassion to win, those around me lost in sin.
He teaches me Truth so I may impart words of life to a needy heart.
Christ leads me to an open heart, so His Words of Life I can impart.
He gave me such a deep desire, to snatch lost souls from the fire.
He shed His blood on The Cross, so we would not suffer Eternal loss.
With His blood He cleanses sin, and the entire world belongs to Him.
All who choose to simply mock, will be crushed by The Eternal Rock.
And they will suffer Eternal Loss, for they were bought at The Cross.
(Copyright © 03/2003)
Powerful Star
I see you powerful star in this vast universe
How you behave as a sweeping meteor
Ravishing me with your glare and air
How I hide away from your danger
How I am amazed by your absolute power
You have taken me in contempt
I am but this dust in space that
You want to take and be nothing
But a dust in your tails
You chide me you see me as nothing
You spit over my being so tiny so insignificant
But mind you powerful star
I have you always in my mind
Waiting for the Big Bang when at the end
I can be the Sun and you beside me
What can you be but be so distant
At the end, so trivial so insignificant!
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Eluding Truth
Eluding truth,
Does not make it insignificant.
Nor does the attempt to ignore it completely,
Change the evidence of its existence.
Contemplatng to alter it,
To keep it hidden...
From one's consciousness...
Is a foolish proposition.
Since mankind is in a precarious situation...
When coming face to face with truth,
And still proceeds to try to manipulate fate...
Without faith in The Creator to guide the way.
Eluding truth,
Does not make it insignificant.
Nor does the attempt to ignore it completely,
Change the evidence of its existence.
There is no escaping,
From that which initiated the process of one's making!
Even the wisdom one shows,
Has been bestowed by 'that' which is ALL Knowing!
How foolish can an ignorance get?
We are in the midst of witnessing it!
Or...
Maybe all of it is intentional and not ignorance.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sonnet: Poetic Limits
Can words depict the true beauty of things?
Can words describe the truth of every scene?
Can words expound the hearts of all earthlings?
Can words decode the joy of things unseen?
Can words bring out the beauty of music?
Can words suffice to explain mysteries?
Can words repaint the beauty of a ‘pic’?
Can words spell out the taste of foods/berries?
And yet, the poet slogs with words and sounds;
With mastery and skills, unique, unknown;
And takes the reader’s hearts to divine grounds,
Or earthly terrains akin to their own.
Kudos to Bards! Who pen and sing supreme,
To create things felt/seen or in a dream.
9-21-2002
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
(We Were) Born To Rock
We Were Born To Rock" as recorded by
Quiet Riot
Streets alive There's something in the air
We're writing up a brand new constitution
DON'T WANT TO GROW OLD Age is in your head
ANOTHER MARKET SOLD Sold for rock and roll--
CHORUS:
WE WERE BORN TO ROCK PULL OUT ALL THE STOPS
And we scream with a voice Cause we made our choice
WE WERE BORN TO ROCK Yeah Rock on
On our own The party's just begun
No boss to guide this younger generation
RUNNING OUT OF TIME With us there's no control
ROCKIN' IS A CRIME Boss-man says No more
CHORUS:
SOLO
WE WERE BORN TO ROCK PULL OUT ALL THE STOPS
WE WERE BORN TO ROCK PULL OUT ALL THE STOPS
WE WERE BORN TO ROCK---
WE WERE BORN TO ROCK---
--Scribe
song performed by by Quiet Riot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Useless
this drift of having to
write
without anything in mind
or purpose
sometimes
is actually life running like
blood in my fingers
in my brain
igniting nerves into
tiny fires
magnetic sparks of
electricity from
insignificant stones and
thrown away
twigs
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Once Again In An Academic Wasteland!
A soiled handkerchief
Thrown ten days ago
Pieces of chalk
Strewn all over
Ten days ago
Sand that walked
Into the class
Ten days ago
Crumpled paper-balls
Of insignificant messages
Hurled and thrown
At one another
Ten days ago
Casual wishes scribbled
Carelessly on the board
Ten days ago
Welcome me to a class
Of confused faces
After ten days of break!
poem by Indira Babbellapati
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
0005 'what Is There To Live For?
and you asked this question
half-privately, half publicly, (so there's some hope then?)
but we, knowing alas your high intelligence,
must pause, reflect, before we answer you...
we could just say, in our severest tones -
that question comes from a nowhere, no-time place
where ignorance is loved, and knowledge is denied..
I'd say, off the cuff, damn you, do just what you like...
you'll do that anyway..
but if you want some words from me..
(who knows the power of words, despite
all evidence to the contrary?) -
some words about what you already know...
I'd say, the answer's in the shortest word
inside your question - 'is':
that tiny window in our life
between the past - that which has shaped your 'is' -
and future - which your 'is' will make for you;
that tiny window, which the gift of life
(and what else do we know of this?)
offers you through all your lived-in life -
gift, to be free; of past and future; simply be,
live in a world of free unselfishness,
be anything and everything, be what you wish -
or better still, be what unsullied life
continually offers you out of the blue...
Or you could count your blessings -
think as Mark has written, just so beautifully, to you...
you'll do just what you do, when all things have been said
and all things written down in words - damn you -
though I for one believe you far from damned..
I knocked upon your door - you didn't answer me;
so now I'm running round the back,
calling through that tiny window
of your very present life; and just to say,
you know yourself; know all the questions, all the answers; but
I'm here for you...and by the way, that ' I ' means we...
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
So Others See
As The Spirit moves on men, they are led to be Born Again,
Experiencing a spiritual birth, while living life upon the earth.
Some say spiritual conversion, is by others just a diversion,
Taking them out of true reality, to a world that none can see.
It’s by faith we’ve been saved, from the world, so depraved,
Believing what we cannot see, and focused now on Eternity.
We get Truth on what’s to come, by the Spirit of God’s Son,
God’s Truth about a reality, that’s bigger than eyes, can see.
From a world, changing fast, we see an eternity that will last,
Knowing not what is ahead, we lean upon The Word instead,
With our focus now on God, not on the shifting, earthly sod,
It’s The Spirit we can’t see, who opens eyes, of you and me.
Eyes of only earthly sight, were opened by the Gospel light,
Once veiled to things of Christ, are opened in a spiritual life.
A new life of Eternal worth, far above all the things on earth,
For all we can touch and see, will never last through eternity.
It is The Spirit, who opens eyes, to make men eternally wise,
A wisdom that shall begin, that moment you are Born Again,
And begin living your life, through the Spirit of Jesus Christ,
Living a life so others see, the Hope that you have Eternally.
(Copyright ©01/2008)
Im Little But Im Loud
(jimmy dickens/boudleaux bryant)
Im puny short and little but Im loud
I learned to do my singing walking long behind a plow
The singing teacher always passed me by
And so I have to sing the only way that I know how
Just rear back open up and let her fly
Im little but Im loud
Im poor but Im proud
Im countrified an I dont care who knows it
Im like a banty rooster in a big red rooster crowd
Im puny short and little but Im loud
Im puny short and little but Im loud
song performed by by Martina Mcbride
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
My dreams have become puny with the reality my life has become.
quote by Imelda Marcos
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Life is never about where you reach, it's the small insignificant things that you do on the course that, at the end make it worth it or worthless.
quote by Bhawana Bhowmik
Submitted by anonym
Vote! | Copy!
The Army of Truth
Words, the world so light esteemeth?
Lower yet,
words in poet’s stanza set!
O how frail your power seemeth,
to be fighting
for the truth mankind is slighting.
Truth should come with thunder pealing,
flashing Levin:
To her succour sent from Heaven,
angel hosts their cohorts wheeling,
wide extended,
should escort her advent splendid.
Ah! Why comes she not, th’exalted,
hither now?
With a helm about her brow,
fashioned of the sky star-vaulted,
fiercer looming,
swords her radiant pinions pluming?
Why are not her white tents planted,
far and wide,
gleaming on the mountain side?
why are not her warriors granted,
in their striving,
mastery over life and living?
Bastioned night is steep for storming;
bigotry
rests secure on columns high;
like Egyptian serpents swarming,
round her temple,
error’s black-robed guards assemble.
Onward yet, brave words, undaunted,
howso few!
Earthly triumph has to you
by the God of light been granted,
who are serving
truth, his child, with faith unswerving.
Forward, words, the truth’s selected
Hero band!
Soon in human hearts shall stand
your victorious tents erected;
glory sweeping
sunlit folds above your sleeping.
Forward, then, with fearless faces,
truth’s firm line!
Yours shall be, by pledge divine,
power no earthly might displaces;
death can never
still thee, voice of truth, for ever.
Cease then, puny host, your quailing,
truth her cause
through defeat to triumph draws:
Falsehood’s desert heights assailing,
see, your powers
dissipate those phantom towers!
poem by Henrik Wergeland
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Strange Tales, Strange Tails
Strange tales,
Scribbled on a uniform
Strange tails,
Scribbled down in cuneiform.
It had been written,
You had to get in.
You know a catll play,
You used to be a big mouse.
Strange tales, strange tails.
Strange tales,
Scribbled on the shelter walls.
Strange tails,
Scribbled as the idol falls.
It had been written,
You had to get in.
You know a catll play,
You used to be a big mouse.
Strange tales, strange tails
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!