Rain, Grapes, Amrita
The rain turns to grapes
through weaving by grapevines
while Jesus at the marriage
feast
turned water into wine
and the Avatar whenever
he wishes
can turn anything to amrita
divine
***
amrita: nectar of immortality
poem by O. Anna Niemus
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An evening in the company of a Sufi...! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
The café was packed-event,
Book release and reading of excerpts
From ‘love and Longing’
A compilation of letters
Exchanged between
Imroz and Amrita
Over a time span
Of five decades.
Imroz took the dais,
Simply dressed in white
A pair of spectacles
Resting on his nose.
Began to shyly share
Sufi poems and
Anecdotes
On a reminiscent note…
Love shone in his limpid eyes,
In the delicate curve of his smile,
Reverence in his mellifluous voice,
Sketches made by him
Framed on the walls.
He said there were no laws
In their relationship- laws
Are for the irresponsible;
We gave each other space
And moved at our own pace.
Love is in small details;
Anticipate the needs of the beloved:
Amrita loved to write in
The silence of the night.
I could make out from the
Light filtering outside.
She loved tea;
I trained myself to wake
At mid night and make
Her a cup steaming hot,
Kept it, on her desk.
At times it
Remained untouched.
She didn’t explain
Nor I complain.
I called her my
Heer, as well as Fakir
Spoke he
Like a true Sufi.
Even today she is
With me.
I feel her in the gentle breeze,
Fragrance of Jasmine...
Spoke of her in present tense
With fondness.and affection.
His words
And demeanour
Left me
Bleary eyed…
it was a union
destined,
with God's blessings...
Amrita Pritam was hailed as the doyen of Punjabi literature and was world renowned.
She was the first prominent Indian women writers. She wrote many poems, novels, short stories and essays. A number of her works have been translated into English, Trench, Danish, Japanese languages.
Amrita and Imroz love story is a legend. They lived together for fifty years. ‘Some love stories reverberate like hymns in the universe’ said Uma Trilok, her biographer.
At her death, Imroz on being questioned said, ‘why be sad, what I couldn’t do, Nature did.’ Such words of love and wisdom, because her last years were painful and
Death came as a release.
Imroz is a noted painter and poet.
poem by Mamta Agarwal
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The Night Of Solitude
the night of solitude
Dark in the night,
Out of the world's sight;
Tears that wish to pierce,
Been confined for years,
Within the black whorl,
Falling deep down in a swirl,
Concealed by the convergent rays,
Forbidden by an unidentified maze;
Passing through the ever unseen,
Through the unknown, the unbeen,
Taller and taller they conspire,
Turns of unexpressed love
Bends of unreduced distances
Curves of intangible touches
Your sweetheart lies in her bed
Missing your kisses,
a new set of dreams
On her eyes, plant thier kisses
poem by Amrita Mallik
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Divine Epigrams: To our Lord, upon the Water Made Wine
Thou water turn'st to wine, fair friend of life,
Thy foe, to cross the sweet arts of thy reign,
Distills from thence the tears of wrath and strife,
And so turns wine to water back again.
poem by Richard Crashaw
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To our Lord, upon the Water Made Wine
Thou water turn'st to wine, fair friend of life,
Thy foe, to cross the sweet arts of thy reign,
Distills from thence the tears of wrath and strife,
And so turns wine to water back again.
poem by Richard Crashaw
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Truth takes colour
Truth is like rain,
Which turns water
When collected on the earth.
Truth is like nectar,
Which turns honey
When gathered by hone-bees.
The truth takes
The colour of the speaker.
19.08.2009
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Oh Rain Come Agian
Oh rain, oh rain, oh rain
Come again, come again
We are scorching in the summer
Come with sudden thunder
Don't just drizzle
Little and little
But come and pour
Plenty of water
The land is dry
Animals are making cry
Temperature crossed forty five
Bees are coming out of their hive
Without water land is hell
Plants have turned pale
Oh rain. Oh rain
Come again, come again
To turn landscape green
As it ever had been
Oh rain, por water
To make earth greener
More healthier and richer
poem by Shashikant Nishant Sharma
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The Bridegroom Of Cana
'There was a marriage in Cana of Galilee. . . . And both Jesus was called, and His disciples, to the marriage.'
VEIL thine eyes, O belovéd, my spouse,
Turn them away,
Lest in their light my life withdrawn
Dies as a star, as a star in the day,
As a dream in the dawn.
Slenderly hang the olive leaves
Sighing apart;
The rose and silver doves in the eaves
With a murmur of music bind our house.
Honey and wine in thy words are stored,
Thy lips are bright as the edge of a sword
That hath found my heart,
That hath found my heart.
Sweet, I have waked from a dream of thee,–
And of Him.
He who came when the songs were done.
From the net of thy smiles my heart went free
And the golden lure of thy love grew dim.
I turned to them asking, 'Who is He,
Royal and sad, who comes to the feast
And sits Him down in the place of the least?'
And they said, 'He is Jesus, the carpenter's son.'
Hear how my harp on a single string
Murmurs of love.
Down in the fields the thrushes sing
And the lark is lost in the light above,
Lost in the infinite, glowing whole,
As I in thy soul,
As I in thy soul.
Love, I am fain for thy glowing grace
As the pool for the star, as the rain for the rill.
Turn to me, trust to me, mirror me
As the star in the pool, as the cloud in the sea.
Love, I looked awhile in His face
And was still.
The shaft of the dawn strikes clear and sharp;
Hush, my harp.
Hush my harp, for the day is begun,
And the lifting, shimmering flight of the swallow
Breaks in a curve on the brink of morn,
Over the sycamores, over the corn,
Cling to me, cleave to me, prison me
As the mote in the flame, as the shell in the sea,
For the winds of the dawn say, 'Follow, follow
Jesus Bar-Joseph, the carpenter's son.'
poem by Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
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Bible in Poetry: Gospel of St. John (Chapter 2)
There was a wedding in Cana,
And Jesus’ mother had gone there;
Invited was Jesus also;
His disciples attended too.
When wine ran short, His mother told,
Jesus, “They have no wine to serve.”
But Jesus asked. back, ‘Why tell me? ’
“How does that concern me? ” He asked.
“My hour has not yet come.” He said.
His mother told the servers all,
“Do whatev’r He tells you to do.”
There were six water-jars of stone,
Meant for Jewish ceremonies.
Each could hold some thirty gallons.
When Jesus told, ‘Fill up the jars
With water up to brim, ’ they did.
Then Jesus told them, ‘Draw out some
And take it to the head-waiter.’
The Head-waiter tasted new wine.
He knew not wherefrom this wine came.
He called the bridegroom and told him,
“All serve the good wine initially.
When people have drunk one less good,
You’ve kept the good wine until now? ”
This was his first miracle done
In Cana town, in Galilee.
His disciples believed in Him.
Thus was revealed His glory first!
All went to Capernaum later.
They stayed there only for few days.
Then Jesus reached Jerusalem,
As Passover was nearing fast.
And in the temple area then,
He saw some selling animals;
Some money-changers were there too.
He made a whip out of some cords,
And drove them out of temple fast.
He spilled the money of changers,
And over-turned their tables too.
He told the dove-sellers to leave.
He warned them not to make the house
Of His Father, a market-place!
His disciples recalled scripture,
‘Zeal for your house will consume me! ’
The Jews then asked Jesus to show
The sign for doing thus, that day.
And Jesus answered them and said,
‘Destroy this temple; in three days,
I’ll raise it up! ’ He firmly said.
‘The Temple took forty-six years
For construction, ’ the Jews all said.
‘You’ll raise it in just three days time? ’
But He meant His body’s temple.
When Jesus was raised from the dead,
His disciples remembered this.
They came to believe the scripture
And what was foretold by Jesus.
While Jesus in Jerusalem
And Feast of the Passover came,
So many believed in His name,
When they had seen the signs He did.
But Jesus didn’t trust anyone.
He knew the people all around.
He did not need one to tell Him.
He understood human nature!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 5-21-2007
poem by John Celes
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I Like This To Be Frank And Simple
you turn me on
even your picture turns me on
as though i am a bird
remembering
bigger wings
to clouds long forgotten
you turn me on
that is a fact that i can no longer deny
my mind whirls
looking for an exit
my super ego says
i must me not be turned on
by a mere you
by a mere picture of you
but you still turn me on
oh i love this feeling of you
turning me on
and my id says let it be
open like a bud let the bee
share the nectar
but there is in me that stays strong
and now
you cannot turn me on
I'm off
closed as a bud
tight as vacuum
falling to the
ground.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Love On The Vine
I came home yesterday
To the love that I left behind
It seems Ive been far away, yeah
But I know that the berrys ripe on the vine
And I know that the grapes will soon turn to wine
Yes I know Ill be there just in time to love you
I guess I just ran away (I just ran away)
Tried to see what I could not find (what I could not find)
Its been a one act play, yeah
But I know that the berrys ripe on the vine
And I know that the grapes will soon turn to wine
And I know Ill be there just in time to love you
Ive been wasting time (wasting time)
With this old heart of mine (this old heart of mine)
Working it overtime, ah, ah, ah, ah
Just another blue day
Like the ones that I left behind
I know its easy to say, yeah
But I know that the berrys ripe on the vine
And I know that the grapes will soon turn to wine
Yes I know Ill be there just in time to love you
Oh and I know that the berrys ripe on the vine
And I know that the grapes will soon turn to wine
Yes I know Ill be there just in time to love you
Love you on the vine, oh on the vine
Love you on the vine, oh on the vine
I love you on the vine, oh on the vine, ah
On the vine, oh on the vine ...
song performed by by America
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Jesus was the greatest hero
Jesus was the greatest hero who ever lived.
He had the power of resurrection and the power to forgive.
When Jesus was tortured to death, he died for our sins.
We wish he was still here so that he could resurrect our kin.
God gave his son the power to turn water into wine.
Jesus will always be a hero of yours and a hero of mine.
Jesus is awesome and that's a statement that I won't retract.
His compassion for people has no boundaries and that's a fact.
poem by Randy Johnson
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Life's Hebe
IN the early morning-shine
Of a certain day divine,
I beheld a Maiden stand
With a pitcher in her hand;
Whence she poured into a cup
Until it was half filled up
Nectar that was golden light
In the cup of crystal bright.
And the first who took the cup
With pure water filled it up;
As he drank then, it was more
Ruddy golden than before:
And he leapt and danced and sang
As to Bacchic cymbals’ clang.
But the next who took the cup
With the red wine filled it up;
What he drank then was in hue
Of a heavy sombre blue:
First he reeled and then he crept,
Then lay faint but never slept.
And the next who took the cup
With the white milk filled it up;
What he drank at first seemed blood,
Then turned thick and brown as mud:
And he moved away as slow
As a weary ox may go.
But the next who took the cup
With sweet honey filled it up;
Nathless that which he did drink
Was thin fluid black as ink:
As he went he stumbled, soon,
And lay still in deathlike swoon.
She the while without a word
Unto all the cup preferred;
Blandly smiled and sweetly laughed
As each mingled his own draught.
And the next who took the cup
To the sunshine held it up,
Gave it back and did not taste;
It was empty when replaced:
First he bowed a reverent bow,
Then he kissed her on the brow.
But the next who took the cup
Without mixture drank it up;
When she took it back from him
It was full unto the brim:
He with a right bold embrace
Kissed her sweet lips face to face.
Then she sang with blithest cheer:
Who has thirst, come here, come here!
Nectar that is golden light
In the cup of crystal bright,
Nectar that is sunny fire
Warm as warmest heart’s desire:
Pitcher never lacketh more,
Arm is never tired to pour:
Honey, water, milk, or wine
Mingle with the draught divine,
Drink it pure, or drink it not;
Each is free to choose his lot:
Am I old? or am I cold?
Only two have kissed me bold!
She was young and fair and gay
As that young and glorious day.
poem by James Thomson
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Her Remniscences
Still searching in each face around me for you,
am all worn out but in vain
Looking upon for even the faintest flicker of you,
am forlorn on a murk lane.
Hard to trace in the crowd,
And truly in love am abound;
As if that's not all,
I ache for something more,
to end my my list of all,
I yearn to yank back:
the sinking sand in the hourglass,
reset it on the veteran rack.
U, the mistress of my bygone days
U, shone bright in my starlit night.
But only in nostalgic episodes:
Now it fixes me in its daze.
poem by Amrita Mallik
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Winter's Reflection
Years too end as you arrive
Every soul on the earth
For survival, they strive.
All they need is a little warmth,
All you give is cold dry air,
Taking away a whole sunrays share.
All they own is a holed one
Peeping through it, yet they smile
like a battle they have just won
Too cosy cuddly and furry a quilt
Beating on you, it gives warmth enough to rest a while
still they remain drowned in an unknown guilt
wrapped in you as a painted image
To see and feel you bring a change
To save a memory all we manage
poem by Amrita Mallik
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Jesus Just Left Chicago
(billy f. gibbons/joe michael hill/frank lee beard)jesus left chicago
And he headed down to new orleans
Jesus left chicago
And he headed down to new orleans
Hey hey
Workin from one end to the other
And all points in between
Took a drive through mississippi
Muddy water turned to wine
Took a drive through mississippi
Muddy water turned to wine
Hey hey
Went out to california
Through the points and through the pines
You might not see him in person
But hell see you just the same
Might not see him in person
But hell see you just the same
Hey hey
Dont have to worry about nothin
cuz takin care of business is his name
Jesus left chicago
And he headed down to new orleans
Jesus left chicago
And he headed down to new orleans
Hey hey
Workin from one end to the other
And all points in between
Thanks everyone!
This is a very cool room, I dont know how many of you
Were here last time, but...its good to be back
Whats that?
Sounds good, mike!! sounds great, mike!!!
Thank you man! thank you.. ok.... mike?
He likes the way it sounds!
I know!
song performed by by Phish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet: God’s Wine
Inebriate me Lord, with Thy celestial wine,
Of mercy, freely, flowing from Thy heart;
Thence-forth let my thoughts/ actions turn divine,
And let my earthly living become art.
Bestow on me a sinner, Thy love’s wine,
Ready forever to intoxicate;
And thereafter, let love spring forth divine;
From my mundane heart and well permeate.
Shower on me, earthling, like rain thy Wine,
Of grace that helps me brave all earthly storms;
Invigorate me Lord, make me divine;
Let me renounce all the demoniac forms.
Let me be drunk in thy mercy, love and grace,
And fight the tempter’s onslaught with great pace.
poem by John Celes
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Acrostic Sonnet: God Made Me a Poet
God bestowed me with poesy so fine;
Only a few on earth are gifted thus;
Did I deserve to drink this wine divine?
May glory be to God and to Jesus!
And He gave me the words that came by heart;
Deciding what and how to write for long;
Eventually that turned into an art!
My soul in ecstasy has made a song!
Enticing me with themes divine on earth;
And goading me to ink my pleasant words,
People wonder if I’m poet by birth?
Obeying God, I did like many birds.
Eternity in Heaven is my aim –
The place, we all must enter with great name!
My 2121st poem
Dedicated to thank my God and Jesus Lord!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 7-26-2008
poem by John Celes
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Sonnet: Jesus, the Grape-Vine
“I am the Vine: You be its branch always.”
Jesus is succor and our nourishment;
Allow the sap to flow to bless your days;
There will be no defeat or punishment.
’Tis easy being branch with leaves and fruits;
We help the vine to grow luxuriously;
The starch that’s made makes sturdy trunk and roots;
The wine from grapes will soothe hearts curiously.
A broken branch will lose its life quite soon;
A leafless one is useless to the vine;
A fruitless one is bane and not a boon;
With God, we make our earthly days divine.
The vine is proud to make the best of wine;
With God’s will done, man’s soul looks rather fine!
poem by John Celes
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Keep Your Wishes Superlicious
Keep your wishes 'superlicious'
And keep your worth
Above the dirt.
Do not haste
To crave the taste of greatness!
Throw sour grapes away.
Unless you are using them,
For a display...
To convey what is not on your menu,
Today!
Keep your wishes 'superlicious'
And keep your worth,
Above the dirt.
You deserve a plate spiced with life!
Toss away the bitterness...
And turn up your inner light!
Keep your wishes 'superlicious'...
No matter who chooses,
To use or abuse you...
With a fading delight to backbite!
Keep your wishes 'superlicious'...
And your life one that excites!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Water Is Not Water
Just not wet anymore.
Won't work as a door stop.
Must have some water.
WATER-WATER-WATER-WATER
In the baby bottle, SMALL BOTTLE-ok.
Just thirsty.
Want some cold WATER? ?
We don't have any water.
CRY-CRY-CRY, tears are water.
BUT-there not wet NOW.
TEARS NOT WET - TEARS NOT WET.
ACID RAIN no pain.
ACID RAIN no pain.
ACID RAIN no pain.
DRIP rain drops - DRIP.
Clouds full of ACID RAIN.
CRY-CRY-CRY-CRY.
11/24/2006 Joe Poewhit
scribbleclub.com - defunct
JESUS SAVES
poem by Joe Poewhit
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