Good Samaritan
The sun shone through the window as I lay down on your carpet
Staring at the speakers - pretending to be tortured
And I never moved a muscle
No, I never moved a muscle
The sunlight turned to shadows, and the minutes turned to hours
Somebody turned the lights on, there was conversation, laughter
And you know just what I'm after - you know just what I'm after
You will look at me, and your curiosity is gonna get the better of you, will get the better of you
Standing next to me now - she's in the air I breathe
She says, "I'm marrying a rich man but he still thinks I'm a virgin
So I need a little action, I need a little fun
I need a good Samaritan, good Samaritan, good Samaritan, good Samaritan"
We raged around our cages until all the doors lay open
Then we fell upon each other in the fury and the frenzy
And we fought like Gods of Thunder - and we played like fives 'n under
And the only screams that mattered turn to whispers in my ear
You're my good Samaritan, you're my good Samaritan, you're my good Samaritan, you're my good Samaritan
Walking down the street - they make such a lovely couple
And she freezes when she sees me - but she don't have to worry
Cos I needed something deeper - I needed something longer
She said, "People who are weaker, need people who are stronger"
And I don't know what possessed you, was I just a one night stand
And not your good Samaritan, good Samaritan, good Samaritan, good Samaritan.
song performed by by Ian Hunter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
No one would remember the Good Samaritan if he'd only had good intentions; he had money as well.
quote by Margaret Thatcher
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Good Samaritan
How kind the good Samaritan
To him who fell among the thieves!
Thus Jesus pities fallen man,
And heals the wounds the soul receives.
O! I remember well the day,
When sorely wounded, nearly slain;
Like that poor man I bleeding lay,
And groaned for help, but groaned in vain.
Men saw me in this helpless case,
And passed without compassion by;
Each neighbor turned away his face,
Unmoved by my mournful cry.
But he whose name had been my scorn,
As Jews Samaritans despise
Came, when he saw me thus forlorn,
With love and pity in his eyes.
Gently he raised me from the ground,
Pressed me to lean upon his arm;
And into every gaping wound
He poured his own all-healing balm.
Unto his church my steps he led,
The house prepared for sinners lost;
Gave charge I should be clothed and fed;
And took upon him all the cost.
Thus saved from death, from want secured,
I wait till he again shall come,
When I shall be completely cured
And take me to his heav'nly home.
There through eternal boundless days,
When nature's wheel no longer rolls,
How shall I love, adore, and praise,
This good Samaritan to souls!
poem by John Newton
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Hunter
I was alone and sickly
It was a quarter of a moonlit night
I heard him cry through my window shade
And it filled me so full of fright
But I could not turn my back on him
I put on the back porch light
Can I help you, said the good samaritan
Can I help you, said the good samaritan
I brought him bread and a blanket
But I told him, you cant come in
You can sleep outside in the tool shed
Though a little rain comes in
Oh, I dont know you, youre a stranger
I dont know where youve been
You cant come in here, said the keeper of the inn
I dont want you in here, said the keeper of the inn.
But I couldnt sleep for the thinking
You know my night got so insane
I thought, maybe he was an angel
And I left him out in the rain
And what if he was the devil
Hed be coming after me again
But when I woke in the weary morning he was gone
When I woke in the weary morning he was gone
I thought maybe he was an angel
And I left him out in the rain
And what if he was the devil
Hed be coming after me again
When I woke in the weary morning he was gone
When I woke in the weary morning, lord, he was gone
song performed by by Joni Mitchell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The good Samaritan
The Good Samaritan
Suddenly there occurs an incident,
‘Tis a harrowing gory road accident,
The man affected, is on the mid-road, bed,
Lying helpless and bleeding from his head.
His mo-bike is smashed from the ride,
And his belongings all strewn aside.
The passers-by for a view encircle him,
Curious at the happening so grim.
Many a vehicle did zoom past,
None did halt for they hadn't any heart.
A renowned, reputed and lauded man,
Too passed by in his popular van.
People around rushed to him for help,
But he turned aside and gave a yelp.
There came forward a person, guileless,
And spotted the man lying forlorn and helpless.
He instantly swung into operation,
Gathered all the strewn things with precaution;
Dialled the ambulance for immediate action,
And proceeded to phone the victims' relation.
He accompanied the victim to the hospital,
Paid necessary amount and secured attention, vital.
When the victims ‘ relations arrived, in fact,
He handed over all the belongings in tact.
The doctors were happy with their medical cover,
As the patient was brought within the golden hour.
Soon the victim came back to life as a re-birth,
And every one heaved a heavy sigh of mirth.
As all turned to profusely thank the unknown man,
And to make good the fees which from his pocket ran,
The good Samaritan was nowhere to be seen around;
He acted just as per his goodness and conscience sound!
poem by Chandra Thiagarajan
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Sonnet: Reciprocal Love
’Tis our turn to play Good Samaritan;
We’ll see how best we can return your love;
You’d showed us all, you are so puritan;
The respect you had got ’midst us, we’ll prove.
You did your level-best in just one year!
You wished to do much more but weren’t allowed;
And though an expert in the human ear,
For good things done, may you be more hallowed.
We were so glad to work in your deanship;
We pray the Lord must give you ‘extension’;
We did our best and worked in good friendship;
You gave us back dignity sans tension.
We pray the transport Boss will be quite kind,
Allowing you to leave us more streamlined.
7-17-2001 by Dr John Celes
Dedicated to our beloved former dean
Dr.Ramalingam M.S.(E.N.T.)
IRT PMCRC&PMCH Perundurai
poem by John Celes
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Our Fault Ridden Eyes
why always casting stones
when first we are told commands
to remove our own rafters
from our fault ridden eyes
instead of mere teeny tiny splinters
misfortune humanities eyes
already have enough unjust burdens
without your demi-god judgements
be a good Samaritan redeem a few sins
poem by Terence George Craddock
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The first question which the priest and the Levite asked was: ""If I stop to help this man, what will happen to me?"" But... the good Samaritan reversed the question: ""If I do not stop to help this man, what will happen to him?""
quote by Martin Luther King, Jr.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Good Samaritan
He comes from out the ages dim—
The good Samaritan;
I somehow never pictured him
A fat and jolly man;
But one who’d little joy to glean,
And little coin to give—
A sad-faced man, and lank and lean,
Who found it hard to live.
His eyes were haggard in the drought,
His hair was iron-grey—
His dusty gown was patched, no doubt,
Where we patch pants to-day.
His faded turban, too, was torn—
But darned and folded neat,
And leagues of desert sand had worn
The sandals on his feet.
He’s been a fool, perhaps, and would
Have prospered had he tried,
But he was one who never could
Pass by the other side.
An honest man whom men called soft,
While laughing in their sleeves—
No doubt in business ways he oft
Had fallen amongst thieves.
And, I suppose, by track and tent,
And other ancient ways,
He drank, and fought, and loved, and went
The pace in his young days.
And he had known the bitter year
When love and friendship fail—
I wouldn’t be surprised to hear
That he had been in jail.
A silent man, whose passions slept,
Who had no friends or foes—
A quiet man, who always kept
His hopes and sorrows close.
A man who very seldom smiled,
And one who could not weep
Be it for death of wife or child
Or sorrow still more deep.
But sometimes when a man would rave
Of wrong, as sinners do,
He’d say to cheer and make him brave
‘I’ve had my troubles too.’
(They might be twittered by the birds,
And breathed high Heaven through,
There’s beauty in those world-old words:
‘I’ve had my sorrows too.’)
And if he was a married man,
As many are that roam,
I guess that good Samaritan
Was rather glum at home,
Impatient when a child would fret,
And strict at times and grim—
A man whose kinsmen never yet
Appreciated him.
Howbeit—in a study brown—
He had for all we know,
His own thoughts as he journeyed down
The road to Jericho,
And pondered, as we puzzle yet,
On tragedies of life—
And maybe he was deep in debt
And parted from his wife.
(And so ‘by chance there came that way,’
It reads not like romance—
The truest friends on earth to-day,
They mostly come by chance.)
He saw a stranger left by thieves
Sore hurt and like to die—
He also saw (my heart believes)
The others pass him by.
(Perhaps that good Samaritan
Knew Levite well, and priest)
He lifted up the wounded man
And sat him on his beast,
And took him on towards the inn—
All Christ-like unawares—
Still pondering, perhaps, on sin
And virtue—and his cares.
He bore him in and fixed him right
(Helped by the local drunk),
And wined and oiled him well all night,
And thought beside his bunk.
And on the morrow ere he went
He left a quid and spoke
Unto the host in terms which meant—
‘Look after that poor bloke.’
He must have known them at the inn,
They must have known him too—
Perhaps on that same track he’d seen
Some other sick mate through;
For ‘Whatsoe’er thou spendest more’
(The parable is plain)
‘I will repay,’ he told the host,
‘When I return again.’
He seemed to be a good sort, too,
The boss of that old pub—
(As even now there are a few
At shanties in the scru .
The good Samaritan jogged on
Through Canaan’s dust and heat,
And pondered over various schemes
And ways to make ends meet.
He was no Christian, understand,
For Christ had not been born—
He journeyed later through the land
To hold the priests to scorn;
And tell the world of ‘certain men’
Like that Samaritan,
And preach the simple creed again—
Man’s duty! Man to man!
‘Once on a time there lived a man,’
But he has lived alway,
And that gaunt, good Samaritan
Is with us here to-day;
He passes through the city streets
Unnoticed and unknown,
He helps the sinner that he meets—
His sorrows are his own.
He shares his tucker on the track
When things are at their worst
(And often shouts in bars outback
For souls that are athirst).
To-day I see him staggering down
The blazing water-course,
And making for the distant town
With a sick man on his horse.
He’ll live while nations find their graves
And mortals suffer pain—
When colour rules and whites are slaves
And savages again.
And, after all is past and done,
He’ll rise up, the Last Man,
From tending to the last but one—
The good Samaritan.
poem by Henry Lawson
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The Paper God
ON A maiden VISIT TO OUR PLANET,
Old and bearded god once slipped and fell down
-not used to quick running at a zebra road -crossing
Someone behind helped him to the side walk and soda water
God was happy and thanked that ‘living Samaritan'.
a few yards as he had passed-by and it pinched him to pause
Only to realize that in the melee he had lost
The purse and all cash and credit cards he carried
‘clever Samaritan's charge for the services just lent
God was vexed and sent a SOS to His Father
To send Him a V-SAT MO - care of local GPO
The money promptly arrived, but was politely declined
on the grounds of lack of identity and for the want of a known surety
How our GOD would have felt of the universe, that He only has made
If the ‘Maker' himself is not spotted, identified or heard
Melted into the crowd as His mission was so aborted
Dear friend….. please watch out
For a silver- haired, broad eyed, charming man, if ever pops up.
poem by Santhana Louis
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Good Samaritan
I like to be a Good Samaritan
to everyone I meet
whether it be personally
or virtually over the internet.
I only have my words
to help comfort them
through the hard times they face.
Reassuring words that someone
is there to listen to their pleas.
One of my friends figured
that helping others could damage me,
making me feel down as they are.
Quite the contrary,
I feel happy when I can raise a smile
and joyous with their laughter.
No, their problems do not get me down.
They only make me stronger and more determined
to help them get through whatever is ailing them.
I would also like to let them know
that I am always there
if their need again may arise
and they need someone to talk to.
29 January 2009
poem by David Harris
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On the Road to Jericho
On the road to Jericho
Mark the stricken one,
Moaning in his agony,
Prone beneath the sun.
Prone beneath the blazing sun,
Naked and alone,
Bleeding from a score of wounds,
Stricken to the bone.
Now his tossing arms lie still;
Now his moans grow faint.
Is there none to succor him
Publican or saint?
Publican or Pharisee
Are none passing by
On the road to Jericho
Is he left to die?
On the road to Jericho
Hurry, hurry, priest!
'Twere a sin wert thou away
From the saintly feast.
Haste thee, Levite, tarry not.
At the Temple waits
Holy work for thee to do;
Haste thee to the gates.
God will guard the stricken one.
Leave it all to Him.
(Now the blood dries on his wouds.
Now his eyes grow dim.)
Yet - ah tell it! Save the shame -
Save the name of Man!
On the road to Jericho
One Samaritan!
On the road to Jericho -
'Voices call 'Make way!
See, the Bishop's carriage comes;
He's in haste to-day.
He's in haste to tend a Prince.
Let the good man through,
He is lordly; he is rich . . .
Not like me or you.
He'll 'consider' your appeal.
He's no time to waste!'
O, despised Samaritan,
Haste thee hither, haste!
Priest and Levite pass along,
Bishops go their ways,
On the road to Jericho
As in olden days.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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A Good Samaritan Maybe
Some people call me blessed
others call me an angel,
but I think myself as none of these.
Just an ordinary person
who as he travels down life’s busy road,
will stop for a moment
to give a stranger a hand,
a stranger in distress.
That does not make me blessed
or very much an angel.
You could call me a Good Samaritan
and a friend to whom ever
I might chance upon
as I travel on my way.
23 June 2008
poem by David Harris
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Pentateuch
The Samaritan's Pentateuch,
I have you and you have me!
And you have the status and i have your love;
But enter into the world so sweet with your muse,
And i will have something to fulfil with you.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Jesus
WHERE is poor Jesus gone?
He sits with Dives now,
And his dogs flesh their teeth
On Lazarus below.
Where is poor Jesus gone?
He is with Magdalen.
He doles her piece by piece,
Her pittance of shame!
Where is poor Jesus gone?
The good Samaritan,
What does he there alone?
He stabs the wounded man!
Where is poor Jesus gone,
The lamb they sacrificed? —
They've made God of his carrion
And labelled it 'Christ!'
poem by Francis William Lauderdale Adams
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Sonnet: I Search'd For God
I search'd for God in things of earthly mould;
I tried my best to search for Him ev'rywhere;
I sought him but found Him not; years had ro1l'd,
My heart told me, he must be somewhere near.
All life, I pray'd to Him in right earnest;
I called to Him to appear just but once!
I tried to seek Him ev'n when I did rest;
Where was He, the Almighty who weigh'd tonnes?
At last, I found Him in a child at play,
And on the road-side in a beggar's face;
He was the Good Samaritan en way,
I saw Him ’midst the blind persons in race.
If God is Truth, He dwells amongst the poor,
And in the hearts and minds kept pure for sure.
poem by John Celes
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Sonnet- I Search'd For God
I search'd for God in things of earthly mould;
I tried my best to search for Him ev'rywhere;
I sought him but found Him not; years had ro1l'd,
My heart told me, he must be somewhere near.
All life, I pray'd to Him in right earnest;
I called to Him to appear just but once!
I tried to seek Him ev'n when I did rest;
Where was He, the Almighty who weigh'd tonnes?
At last, I found Him in a child at play,
And on the road-side in a beggar's face;
He was the Good Samaritan en way,
I saw Him ’midst the blind persons in race.
If God is Truth, He dwells amongst the poor,
And in the hearts and minds kept pure for sure.
poem by John Celes
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Reaching Out 2
Some days we reach out for someone
when our world is in despair.
We are confused with what life has given us
and feel our life spiralling down.
Then from no where two hands reach out
and with words of comfort
lift us back to solid ground.
The stranger who has helped us
has a face we cannot see;
they are not our god, but a stranger
from far across the sea.
The Good Samaritan whose arms
reach out to everyone
within their hour of need.
Are they one of God’s angels
or are they mortal like you and me?
It is a question we cannot answer,
however they are the answer to our prayers.
Someone who reaches out
and goes to the aid of whom
others sometimes fear.
7 July 2010
poem by David Harris
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Road to Damascus
You were once a meeting place
of human goodness -
of the Good Samaritan, saving
the fallen victim of the hiding thieves,
a road to friendship
against the bridge of enemies,
the road to humility
with the ability to forgive.
You were once a meeting point
of human newness -
of Saul, the intolerant,
persecutor of Christians,
blinded by light,
and yet rode back to this road
as Paul with renewed eyesight.
Damascus, a meeting road
of human goodness and newness
met by the Lord of Light,
and yet today has turned
to be an open graveyard
guarded by violence and blood.
poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
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Sonnet: Nothing’s Reliable on Earth
The world is full of surprises and shocks;
The things we think will happen never could;
No house is safe though built by cement/rocks;
When gas gets empty, we return to wood.
The friend we thought was best becomes our foe!
An evil mind turns Good Samaritan;
Nothing happens as per schedule like woe!
All things are unpredictable like man.
The things on earth can dupe our eyes and ears;
Man’s knowledge is never enough at all;
Though wisdom comes to men who seek oe’r years;
Man’s sinfulness becomes a mighty wall.
Our senses aren’t very perfect at all;
Yet, we must never miss our Maker’s call.
poem by John Celes
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Overwhelmed
Worries of the 'morrow...
Anxieties of this day-
Torrential waves of doom and gloom...
Perpetuate our very ways;
So many of the negative-
With no inspiration to be found-
Only hopeless enigmas and tragedies...
Despairs sobbing-the only sound;
In fear of the next day-
As this day comes to a hurried end...
Dire straits of the coming fates...
Torn-but with no one to mend;
No sewing needles to stitch-
No Knight in shining armor to save...
No Good Samaritan with open arms...
Alas, all that 'tis left 'tis the grave;
The Golden Rule
***Just In Case There Are Any Doubts
I Am A Married Women...Not A Man! ! ! !
June 18,2010
poem by Theodora Onken
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