One summer eve in Galilee
I stood before my open door;
To me it seemed just one more night--
Like all the others gone before.
Someone would come and, passing by,
Would hear the tinkling of the bells,
Would see the garish harlot's robe
And painted eyes beneath my veil.
Someone, a man like all the rest--
It did not matter much to me--
A nobleman, Samaritan,
A Roman or a Pharisee,
Someone would pause and with one glance
Strip me again of maiden pride,
And leaving, later, never know
The shame and shattered dreams I hide.
O, he would think me very gay;
He would not see my hollow heart
Nor hear me curse him for his pay.
T was then I saw a band of men
Approaching down the narrow road;
There should be one among that crowd
Who wants the favors I bestow.
Kind eyes met mine, and with one look,
He saw what others could not see;
He saw the hunger of my soul,
My loneliness and misery.
I only know that since that day
I live to walk along with Him.
His look of love has changed my life;
I need not sell my love again.
Tonight He sups at Simon's house__
All day the dusty paths we roamed;
But, still he waits, unwashed, unkissed;
Small courtesies no one has shown.
My love for Him! It rolls and swells
Till from His side I cannot stay;
I'll wash His feet with tears of love
And with my hair wipe them away.
Copyright © Faye Gibson
His lucent light illumines her eyes
His face outshines the sun
His ethereal beauty unveils the skies
Her vibrant vision swiftly succumbs
Her silenced tongue, his intimate touch
His intangible hands sliding/slithering
Spiraling down with a gentle glide
Her body cold and shivering
His fiery eyes ignite a flame
Her attention he gains as she stares
Their lips entwine, his blissful rapture
Devours her heart from cares
Encapsulated, she can't escape
He clutches her in his arms
Her safe haven, her wedded love
His pearl preserved from harm
Her beating heart, a decelerate speed
Her aperture devoid of breath
His succulent waters drown her tongue
Compelling her closer to death
Solitary seclusion, her world in diffusion
Subverts her mind, subtracts her understanding
He gains her trust, thrusting utter confusion
Rest assuring her of a safe landing
She drowns herself to ceaseless sleep
In his grasp from detouring distractions
At her beauteous site, he rejoices and weeps
Absorbed in her FATAL ATTRACTION
Copyright © Leonard Gage
FROM THE MOMENT THAT SHE MET HIM
SHE WAS AWESTRUCK!!!
HE HAD THE WORDS, HE HAD THE CLOTHES, HE HAD THE LOOK
HE HAD THIS SMOOTH, UNCANNY WAY
THAT EASED HIM RIGHT THROUGH HER DEFENSES
THAT LEFT HER DANGLING, HELPLESS...FROM HIS HOOK
SHE WAS A CHRISTIAN WOMAN, AND
SHE MINISTERED IN CHURCH
HAD NEVER KNOWN A MAN LIKE THIS BEFORE
A MAN WHO KNEW THE BIBLE
EVERY CHAPTER...EVERY VERSE
A CHARISMA, SHE FOUND TOO HARD TO IGNORE
HE DATED HER THE CHRISTIAN WAY
SHE MET HIS FAMILY
THIS HUMAN BROOM, WHO SWEPT HER OFF HER FEET
RESISTING EVERY SEXUAL URGE
UNTIL THEIR WEDDING NIGHT
BUT ON THAT NIGHT, HE TOOK HER, HOT, AND SWEET
HER SPIRIT KNEW, BEFORE HER "MIND" CAUGHT ON
SOMETHING HAD CHANGED
A HORROR UNEXPLAINED HAD GRIPPED HER SOUL
THIS CHRISTIAN MAN SHE MARRIED
HAD TURNED OUT TO BE A DEMON
AND HER COMPLETE DESTRUCTION, WAS HIS GOAL
WITH COLD METHODIC PURPOSE
HE HAD PLANNED HIS WIFE'S DEMISE
HE GAVE HER AIDS, AND THOUGHT HER FATE WAS SEALED
SHE WAS SHAKEN, BUT NOT BROKEN
AND WITH STEADFAST FAITH, SHE SHOUTED...
"THANK YOU JESUS! BY HIS STRIPES, I'M HEALED!!!
HE HAD COME TO CHURCH TO FIND A SAINT
WHOSE LIFE HE COULD DESTROY
THE DEVIL WRAPPED, IN CHRISTIAN MALE ATTIRE
HE GOT IN THROUGH HER EGO
AND DESIRE TO BE LOVED
BUT OH PRAISE GOD, THE DEVIL IS A LIAR
THE LESSON HERE, THE DEVIL
GOES TO CHURCH AS MUCH AS YOU DO
DELIGHTING IN DESTRUCTION OF THE FLOCK
AND SHOULD YOU FIND YOURSELF A TARGET
OF HIS DEADLY PURPOSE
REMEMBER, ALWAYS...JESUS, IS YOUR ROCK!
Copyright © JAMES HEATH
The field is THERE
And that is all that can be said.
No feature worth recording.
The farm is FLAT
And that is all that can be said.
No need for more.
The farmer in this life,
And that's not all that I need say.
JESUS DIED FOR HIM.
Copyright © Julia Ward
A shameful act in this world we live today
surely an educated mind can clearly see the truth behind a mask
Ignorance is the hardness of heart manifests in such violence
The horrors and inhumanity of it heartbreaking reality reeks
A mortal sin attacking the vital principle within us all
slavery is very much alive and growing each dawning new day
New bigger than ever in the 21st century, returning evil dawns
Turn a blind eye poor unfortunate girls without a voice cry for love
India has the largest number of slaves in world we live in
The dark side of such a beautiful country an evil vice grips hold
Taking a new form, bride trafficking exploiting the poor
those unfortunate falling prey to traditional arranged marriages
some are sold off like objects for as little as 160 euro's, up to 225 euro's 5000 rupees
Vulnerable young women exploited forced into hard labor some injected with drugs e.t.c they say their life is Hell not worth living
Working morning and night beaten in extreme heat raped by family members
Their is a social status manufactured from all this a stigmata deceit and trickery
they are then disgraced known as purchased women
Men and women so called mercenaries in a perverse vice
looking at ill got wages they act as brokers in a deliberate choice of evil
This the gravest violation of good clouds and corrupts judgement
Entrapment and sale of poor unfortunate vulnerable women as brides
victims of greed to an illegal trade one grave offence
Turning away from evil out of fear of punishment
we ourselves are in a position of slaves
Studies have been carried out the world over
treating women as baggage or a commodity or an item of less worth
they lead their victims into evil doing without choice
They do the most punishing of manual labor exploited under extreme conditions
Some have been taken from their families forcefully again'st their will
then sold many times over as sexual objects and given drugs
sedated to prevent them from escaping living a life of constant fear
Tears roll down my cheeks
law is a broken promise of truth to protect innocence
25 years of selective abortions willfully being practiced
by doctors and surgeons alike
protecting wrong doers cry people oppressed forced in some circumstances
life is sacred a verdict of moral conscience
Only in the female section a shame and disgrace
now a population of mostly men seed of their wrong doing
Oppression of the poor cries to Heaven for revenge
keeping of slaves deprives thee laborer of their wages
were is human rights in all this God be merciful
Our blessed mother holding Queen of Heaven sits with the father and the son
forgive them as they are blind to the truth an ignorance in their guilt
A mothers tears are the most precious love one blessing
The suffering of these innocent girls, we all seek happiness in the fairy tale end
Rich men acting as brokers dowries a property exchange how awfully sad
How shameful this is slavery returning to the past sins
enduring a life of constant sexual abuse considered unclean
this should be banned as it turns my stomach were is equality
More the Devil's advocate, such heartache and tears justice a virtue
all because you were born a woman some are taken by force an uneven balance
beaten and battered victims, a sadness overwhelms me
Sex selective abortions, a blast again'st girls
if the unborn child is female more than likely will be aborted
Costs of dowries crippling to parents, going into debt
A woman, one precious jewel in my eyes who gives birth to new life
in the fruit of love, to be held equal with an equivalent say
contrary to the divine law
Created from a rib of man
Families torn apart for what, such reason greed of money
The countless women enslaved live in hope
unrepented evil brings eternal darkness destroys charity
This new prosperity is but a distant dream for some
10 million people in enslaved in India
They have an imperialist attitude with political dominance over the poor
The colonist legacy remains with status
Some are considered of worthless class
Slavery laws should be enforced abolishing such inhumane cruelty
in such loveless acts
fruits of charity are joy to behold brings peace and mercy
as they project something to the outside world that they are not
Hidden under the carpet their lies the sins of falsehood
Copyright © liam mcdaid
The apostles entrusted the “Sacred deposit” of the faith
Contained in Sacred scripture and Tradition
To the whole Church
By adhering to this heritage
The entire holy people
United to its pastors
Remains always faithful to the teaching of the apostles
To the breaking of bread
So, in maintaining
Professing the faith that has been handed on
There should be a remarkable harmony between the bishops
Copyright © Jacqueline R. Mendoza
Hostile Times II
By Nate Spears
Busted love is my Crystal Ball's fortune
My heart hurts in a torturing way
Nothing ever works in my favor
I lower my head and pray
Confessing to God
All I have to give
A 16 year old rebellious daughter
A 13 year old son that’s dead
My father is in prison; so is the one of my two kids
Is this really a way of living?
I didn’t have a choice from the days beginning
Would have a given me a chance
Walls of barriers bearing on us
On this earth we stand
Refusing to let go of this curse
If no bill is signed by Congress
My unemployment runs out next Thursday
Now I contemplate what’s next?
Sex dollars or Creflo's Dollars?
Be an honest woman; or
Be a fool that’s starving?
When pushed to the limit
All governors are discarded.
Hostile Times rains upon us
Other nations joins the honors
The Elite makes me vomit
There’s plenty of resources among us
God have mercy and let it trickle down on us
Rather than become degrading
In this pew
I choose prayer
Becoming Sunday Mornings best
Washing away my pains that become abreast; with my chest
Bringing in a new day,
For a better way
In these hostile times we live in.
Copyright © Nate Spears
The Galilean sun smiled down
Upon the dusty little town
And lingered o'er one humble spot,
A peasant's home and modest shop.
Long shafts of light fell 'cross the door
To lay bright carpets on the floor
Where children played in perfect peace
About the shop. Their joy increased
Each time they caught a glimpse of Him,
The carpenter who worked within.
His face was gentle, eyes were kind;
And as He worked, He did not mind
Their ceaseless chatter, endless play
Nor did He find them in His way.
Their laughter rippled round the room;
They scattered sawdust with a broom.
The woodchips falling at His feet
Became for them a fishing fleet
Or beds and chairs for little dolls,
A manger or a cattle stall.
Surrounded by the commonplace;
And yet, uncommon was the grace
With which He faced each daily task
As if all Heav'n lay in His grasp.
A carpenter He was by trade;
The wood responded, unafraid.
Beneath His hands each piece was formed
Into an object to perform
Some deed of usefulness or skill,
The needs of men to fitly fill.
Precise He was in all His craft
From oxen yoke to shepherd's staff
To couches for a nobleman;
He was a careful artisan.
Each part was polished, sanded, ground;
No painful splinters could be found
To pierce the flesh of those who bought
The items fashioned in His ship.
There wood was sacrificed for man
Beneath its own Creator's hands.
Does it seem strange that He would die,
Suspended between earth and sky,
Upon two rugged beams of wood,
This carpenter whose work was good?
Copyright © Faye Gibson
THERE IS NO GREATER LOVE THAN THIS
"For God did not send His Son
into the world to condemn the world,
but that the world through Him might be saved...-John 3:17 "
"Crucify Him! Crucify Him! CRUCIFY HIM!, the sea of mob uproars
yet, my Savior Jesus accused and scorned stood in silence...
Trial done. His sentence announced. The Romans flogged him
with a flagellum, forty lashes spate on Jesus' arms, shoulders
and legs, leaving His body in scarlet rugged ribbons...
Battered and Bruised, they threw a robe on His shoulders,
Placed a reed to His shaking hands and onto his head,
a crown of twisted thorns."Hail, King of the Jews, Hail!",
mocked and joked by the kneeling Soldiers to my Savior.
After that cruel charade with Sadistic aura, the soldiers spatted Him,
tearing His robe. On the dry... sun-kissed road of Via Dolorosa,
a more than hundred pounds of cross was tied onto His shoulders.
And a fence of insulting people, spitting and laughing, congest on the way.
Despite that, My Savior tried to walk erect but due to exhaustion
and copious blood loss, He stumbled and fell for three times.
The rough wood gouge to His already lacerated skin,
bathe in blood and sweats so cold, my Savior moves on...
Atop Golgotha... on the rugged wooden cross lies His long white body
as four brawny Soldiers came closer with ropes, hammer and nails
went to their posts. One drives a wrought iron-nail to His Hands
Rending His muscles... veins... nerves and bones..
My Jesus utters a cries same as the slaughtered lamb and Mary,
His mother,folded her face to her arms, she groaned as like
a lamenting dove. The friction of iron striking iron echoes through.
Hammer, hammer, Hammer! The Soldier strokes unto His feet.
With His Mother is His favored apostle: John, who mirrors horror and grief.
Hands and feet now nailed, they dragged the cross to be dropped
in the grounds hole, into His patibulum: “Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews”,
Knots of relentless throbbing pain shoots left and right over my Savior
and all around the thrilled crowd below cheered in Sadistic chorus:
"if You are God. We are not afraid of You and we spit at You"
but oh! above all these, my suspended Savior on the tree said:
“Father, forgive them for they know not what they do.”
Tomb silence reign and time passes by in a distressed deafening rhythm
as tunnel train of tingles jolts and attacks my Savior's cyanotic body--
crippling chill of death rattles and crumbles my Savior's life
All the Maries and the other women weep unto their scarfs
as they heard their Dying Master's one last cry:
"It is finished...Father, into Your hands I commit My spirit"
at 3 o'clock noon that day, the sky marched in salvo of thunderbolts...
"and this is the condemnation,
that the light has come into the world, and men loved darkness rather than light,
because their deeds were evil... - John 3:19"
2:48 pm, March 29, 2014
Copyright © Olive Eloisa Guillermo
Lonely slowly solely I trailed on a street
I looked back, forward, left and right and there was no one to greet
The street was narrow, long and seems to have no end
Very scary, I trembled, so I called my big brother Ken
I shouted his name, shouted and shouted without taking a pause
My voice only goes, multiplies and bounces back, with no response
Very tired, frustrated and hungry, so I leaned beside a tree
I plucked some fruits, just to quench my stomach’s plea
But hungrier than I, was the lion standing not far from me
It roared and swung its tail looking at me
“An already-made meal, how sweet” It said and smiled at me
“Oh father, make me not its daily bread” I prayed and planned to flee
My feet was not glued, so I asked it to hurry to flee
How fast I ran, I don’t think I can even give you a clue
The lion followed me angrily as I ran and pant on the road
I was tired but could not afford to assume a resting mode
I almost gave up but saw a tree I felt I could climb
It could be a nice rescue so I doubled my steps to climb
Voila! There I was and the lion could only stand to watch
I smiled back at it, as I searched for a better place to lodge
But there was none, as the tree owner seemed not to be happy with me
The cobra raised its flattened head, ready to pounce on me
I was much scared, confused so I felt the urge to pee
I said my last prayer to God, thanking Him for what He has done for me
The cobra jumped at me but unluckily fell in the neck of the lion
It fought the lion and I could only referee to crown the champion
Poor cobra lost the fight and the lion devoured its whole length
But the king of the jungle couldn’t withstand for long, the venom of the cobra
A voice then spoke to my heart, after the hungry lion’s departure
“Fear not my son, even in the valley of the shadow of death”
Copyright © Prince Assandoh-Mensah
I look through the crystal waters
Running through the quiet woods
Walking along the shores
In search of the man from Galilee
I asked the wind, where it had driven him
I asked the storm, did you strike him
I asked the mad man, did you hurt him
I asked the centurion, have you killed him
None answered, but with a sigh they shunned me
I went to the caves, where he spent his nights
I went to the temple, where he taught
I went to the praetorium, where they judged him
I went to the Pharisee, to seek to see him but they said
He was the fee for the fees of the deeds of the seeds like the sand of the sea
I run after him as they pushed him through the streets
His mother and brethren were wallowing in tears
With few words, he comforted them
I followed with my mind, but now my heart yearns after him
The hands of men took him to Golgotha and
Finally I found him on the cross
And I knew it was for my sake he hanged
I left in tears, hearing tearings in the temple
I asked the disciple, where they laid him
I asked the guards, where they kept him
I asked the gardener, if he can show me
But the angel asked me, why seek him here
Where else, who else, and why ask, I said
But the voice that answered was still, small and peaceful
Like the voice of the shepherd, when he grazed us
He asked me, why I weep and comforted me
He said to me; you are free; you are saved; you are mine
Then together we worshipped as he disappeared in our eye
To where, some asked
In your hearts he answered
I found the dead Jesus, alive in my heart and he lives forever.
Copyright © ASIEDU MICHAEL
Social Worker came
Said, received a call about me
Reported someone harassing me
Answered, worry not, “I’m fine”
[Eternal] God’s taking care of me.
Couple of days
Police detective came, Katie
Took a copy of Cris picture
Even his son’s picture
Brought 2 Social Workers
I took a test, told them the truth
She said, “Oh…He got scammed”
Told them not to worry,” I’m fine”
Said depending with test result
They’ll contact me
Never heard from them ‘til now
Told them “Father Christ got my back”
Copyright © Jacqueline R. Mendoza
Reading a book, the war between
Saladin and Richard the lion hearted
their battle went into Allepo
checking Allepo on the web
I found them still at war
Yet how stupid are we
one thousand years
and we have learned, nothing
we still fight we still kill
nothing has changed.
Talking with friends
she said they kill because
the worlds overpopulated
she said that it's wrong
God gave you the child
to me it's wrong because
we should not kill
God gave us a brain
with the ability to think
a brain to solve our problems
If you drive a car
around a corner at one hundred
don't blame God for the accident
If the world's overpopulated
have less kids, do not kill the ones you have.
Copyright © Bernard Barclay
Sacred Scripture is the speech of Eternal God
As it is put down in writing
Under the breath of the Eternal Holy Spirit
Holy tradition transmits in its entirety the Word of Eternal God
Entrusted to the apostles by Father Christ, the Lord
Enlightened by the Spirit of truth
They may faithfully preserve
And spread it abroad by their preaching
Church, to whom the transmission
Interpretation of Revelation is entrusted
Does not derive her Both Scripture and Tradition
Must be accepted and honored
Equal sentiments of devotion
Copyright © Jacqueline R. Mendoza
From Judges 11.
His brothers cast the young man out, the child of an harlot;
He fled away to distant Tob before they found an outlet
For anger, more than what they'd done, to fully disinherit
And drive him from his father's house, though not for foul demerit
Within himself, but all for greed- it made them hate their brother.
Now Jephthah lives his life alone, without a father, mother;
He goes about with newfound friends, considered rather shady:
At least he does not get too wild; he found himself a lady,
And has a one and only child, a daughter like her mother.
She's tall and slim, with long, black hair; as fair as any other,
And loves to dance and sing and play her timbrels with the daughters
Of the mighty men of Tob, who play their music by the waters
Of the brimming banks of Yarmuk; lovely music, song, and dancing,
In the evening, in the twilight, which is wordlessly enchanting;
So much so that all the stars come out before the sun has drifted
Below the burning desert sands, thus Nature's course has shifted
From what it was, what e'er has been his want, his call of duty,
And all to see some pretty maids who sing and dance with beauty.
The Ammonites come, bent on war, on taking land and cattle;
They'd kill the men of Gilead and claim the spoils of battle:
The land that once belonged to Sihon, which Israel gained possession,
Then Joshua allotted to the sons of Gad and Reuben.
Thus Ammon claimed what was not his, but what he thought he needed;
And Israel must be captained well, or else they'll be defeated.
The elders ride in haste to Tob, to Jephthah's lordly dwelling
To find the man who would be best and see if he is willing;
But Jephthah said, "Did you not hate me? Did you not expel me
Out of my father's house, and now you come to me and tell me
Of your need when in distress? If I by some rare providential
Act of mercy be successful, will you lay aside resentful
Ways and set me over you?" And this they would; they needed badly
A man who knew the art of war, who charged in battle madly;
So they agreed and made him captain over all the forces,
The leader of the fighting men, the officers, and horses.
Then Jephthah vowed a vow to God, he said, "If Thou wilt give me
A vict'ry over Ammon, then returning I will give Thee
Whatsoever first will greet me at the doorway of my dwelling
As an offering of fire for a savor sweet of smelling
Unto Thee." And having spoken he departed to the battle
With his whole command of soldiers, with a clash and tramp and rattle:
And they smote and killed the Ammonites until the Plain of Vineyards;
In twenty cities passing through as Jephthah drove them downwards.
The town of Mizpeh heard the news and every mouth was voicing
The praises of their leader and his soldiers with rejoicing;
Then, as they saw him from afar, the townsfolk all assembled
To cheer their hero, now their judge; but mighty Jephthah trembled,
For as he came unto his house his daughter came to meet him
With timbrels and with dances from his door she came to greet him;
Her raven tresses bouncing, and her flowing dresses swirling;
Her face alight with happiness, and glowing as she's twirling.
She smiles at her hero from the battlefront returning,
But he cannot return it for the raging storm that's churning
Inside himself, and making him so weak and sick and frightful
For his daughter, lovely daughter, blessed with grace and so delightful.
And he said, "O sweet Celena, you have cast my spirit downward,
For I've vowed a vow that's binding, and I cannot take it backward;
I have sworn to make a sacrifice of fire of whatever
First would meet me at the doorway of my house; but I had never
Thought that it should be a person, but a heifer or a doeling,
Or perhaps a dove or pigeon." Here he stopped, for tears were rolling
Down his cheeks, and rent his clothing as he stood there, crushed and grieving;
Amazed at what he'd done, and even now not quite believing
His hand must wield the wicked knife; his hand must light the fire;
His hand must end his daughter's life; his hand must build the pyre.
He stared at his offending limbs, said, "Would to God I'd lost them;"
For now he had to tell his wife how much his oath had cost them.
Then Celena, brave Celena said, "Perform what you have spoken;
For the Lord has taken vengeance and the Ammonites are broken:
Only grant me two months longer so that I and my companions
May bewail my virgin state among the mountains and the canyons."
One word was all that he could say, the one word, "Go," and held her
A moment to his bosom as his teary eyes beheld her;
A chain of gold about her neck, dress gay with colored sashes;
A tremble in her ruby lips, a teardrop in her lashes.
Then turning from her father, to the wilderness she stumbled;
Her eyes so filled with tears that down the road she tripped and tumbled,
And lay a while in the deep, deep dust that rose above her;
Then stripped her golden necklace, one gold ring and then the other
And threw them from her to be swallowed by the dusty powder:
"What good is gold?" she softly mumbled, crying ever louder.
Retreating to the lonely cliffs, the desert's jagged mountains,
Where desolation reigns enthroned, except for by the fountains
And streams that bring a thread of life, that ever downward trailing
Flows by the place where seven maidens gather as they're wailing
The loss of faithful friend, the favored, beautiful Celena,
Who would not flee, but e'er would be the dutiful Celena,
Submitting to her father's vow, though leading to her dying.
The place that used to ring with song and laughter fills with crying;
And music now is sighing of the maids and lonesome whispers
Of the wind. And those who danced are aimless wanderers and drifters,
Seldom speaking: consolation is but vain when 'tis imparted
To a soul whose days are numbered when its life has barely started.
Copyright © Isaiah Zerbst
The tradition in question comes from the apostles
Hands on when they received from Jesus’ teaching examples
What they learned from the Eternal Holy Spirit
First generation of Christian did not have a written New Testament
It demonstrates the process of living tradition
Tradition is to be distinguished from the various theological
Liturgical or devotional traditions
Born in the local churches over time
These are particular forms
Adapted to different places
In which the great Tradition is expressed in the light of Tradition
The traditions can be retained
Even abandoned under the guidance of the Church’s magisterium
Copyright © Jacqueline R. Mendoza
Is to invite all into your life, regardless of
sexual orientation, race, creed, nationality
It is as to say sorry for not having done so
before but like so many unable to know the
Love in all.
When we are able to put all our cards on the
table, an ace is still an ace, a spade is still
In life’s experience we’ve know the value of
our weakness, the merits of our victories and
shadows of our faith.
We’ve known God as the devil. In better days
we will sing a more triumphant song to the
A mighty fortress is our God…In our own
strength confide…no mortal ills prevailing…
God’s Love is never falling.
It is in Christ we belong.
Copyright © John Hardison
Inspired by the untimely deaths of young people I knew. RIP
In a dream, tonight would be my last
and I demanded to talk to God.
Of all the things I've gotten past,
to go now seemed so odd.
"You've taken all my friends you see
and now you want me, too?
Unlike one who pretends to be
I've always honored you."
Those sinners who outlive me still,
all I have to ask is how?
It mad me question His very will.
Why take a good man now?
But God just sat and let me rave
on and on about my worth
and why I didn't need a grave,
but rather eternity here on earth.
Pride let my voice be rather loud.
He never said a word.
I told of deeds that made me proud
and good things that I'd heard.
And when I tired He simply said,
"No doubt your life's been good.
But many younger are now dead
and their legacy simply would
be the song that is never sung,
no children call them dad.
for they came to me so very young
and left the world confused and sad.
Yet now your time has come as well
and selfish thoughts are all I hear?
Your life was full and I can tell
it's really death you fear.
Just remember that you have no choice,
for you all will one day die.
Be strong and with a humble voice
tell loved ones they can cry."
And in that moment I knew a peace,
and I felt a tear well up inside.
That most feared was now the least
as my selfish motives died.
Copyright © James Nichols
The task of giving an authentic interpretation of the Word of Eternal God
Has been entrusted to the living
Teaching office of the Church alone
Its authority in this matter exercised in the name of Jesus Christ
It means that the task of interpretation has been entrusted
To the bishops in communion in successor of St. Peter
The bishop of Rome
This Magisterium is not superior to the Word of Eternal God
But it is its friends
It teaches only that has been handed to it
At the divine command with the help of Eternal Holy Spirit
It listens to this devotedly
Guards it with dedication
Expounds it faithfully
All it proposes for belief as being divinely revealed
Drawn from this single deposit of faith
Mindful of Father Christ’s words to His apostles
“He who hears you, hears me”
The faithful receive with docility the teachings
Derives that their pastors give them in different forms
Copyright © Jacqueline R. Mendoza
I am an ocean of joy
Vast, resounding, glorious beauty
Rolling in melody upon melody of celebration
Swaying to the rhythm of treasured memories
I am depth, I am might, I am alive
Once my tide was filled
With the laughter of a child
So pictures pirouetted like mists
On the shore of my mind
That world is now sucked in by time
And as I count the years
It is with a grateful heart
For as before and always
The life before and behind
Has always been to my eye
A great adventure
So I pray for tomorrow
That I will cradle still
The dream filled
With sweetest bliss. – (Trinity Chasara 07/11/14)
Copyright © Trinity Chasara
Dedicated to all of the guys who helped me to make the checklist - thanks!
The Empty Rib Slot
I think I might have
A perfect checklist
Highlights from men
Gathered now missed
Yes special highlights
Each man carried some
Now added to my checklist
For a guy having it all in one
This could be the key to find
The man I’m dreaming of
Not with bits and pieces
One filled full of love
A man made for me
No it would be not
I should fit perfectly
Into an empty rib slot
Let me share this list
With every one of you
Then decide for yourself
If it could possibly be true
My first check comes from
This guy with dreamy eyes
He deeply touched my soul
Way more than ever realized
He even had a special smile
That made you want to grin
No matter if life was down
He encouraged me to win
There was the big hugger
With squeezes oh so tight
He lifted me off the floor
Like if I was taking flight
He never did grow tired
Of giving me those hugs
I never had to ask for them
He always did it out of love
Then there was the dancer
He stayed light on his feet
He loved dancing with me
Carrying rhythm and a beat
Now of course on this list
There certainly has to be
That best friend I count on
Who can also count on me
I am even going to count
The good points of quality
Generated from my brothers
And even from my daddy
From them they all carry
A very good temperament
Always being so easy going
Not looking for an argument
When I am nestled in that slot
With a perfect feel of passion
All of his glory will then shine
As it eludes from my reflection
The most important one of all
He who shares a spiritual side
Being spiritually open with me
Not allowing his beliefs to hide
I know how this all may sound
Like a crazy thing that I’ve got
I want the man I fit snuggly with
When I match his empty rib slot
Florence McMillian (Flo)
Copyright © Florence McMillian
We live our life like a lie.
Never true to ourselves nor to others.
We live our life as a dream.
Never seen but is believed.
We live our life in disbelief
Never thought nor achieved.
We live our life as though it was all but a dream.
Believing that everything is not what it seems.
Taking what's for granted and not knowing what it means.
Living in this Great Society far beyond belief.
We live our life in all this trouble an grief.
Plagued by a disease that shall not be deceived.
Taking our life's an burying them with all that we believe.
Living as though our very souls have begun to weep.
We live our life to its fullest as though there's never an end.
Enjoying the life that we do have and to be forgiven for our sin.
We live our life as we believe.
Always true to those and others.
We live our life as a whole.
Always taking what we get.
We live our life as a belief.
Always in faith and God
Copyright © Tanner Anderson
Once upon a time there were two ladybugs. One’s name was Hilga and the other’s name was Helga. Hilga and Helga took turns swinging on a swing! Hilga pushed Helga so high on the swing that she pushed her all the way up to the third heaven and she fell upon Jesus’s lap on his throne. Jesus picked up the dear child and had to send her back down, so he called for a chariot to escort her back down to the swing set. Once they arrived, Hilga asked Helga, “Where in the world have you been?” Helga answered, “You pushed me so high on the swing that you sent me to heaven!” Hilga replied, “Why in the bloomin’ world did you come back down here?” Helga said, “Now it’s your turn to sit on the lap of Jesus and get a free chariot escort!” So Hilga and Helga for the remainder of the afternoon took turns entertaining themselves and entertaining the angels. It was a day filled with complete bliss! It was also a day that Jesus and the angels enjoyed as well. What is the moral to this story, you ask? Be filled with childlike joy. Yes, let the joy of the Lord be your strength and let the light of your heavenly Father illuminate your eyes and your heart. Remember this cute little lady bug story and how much fun it is to play and entertain Jesus and his angels!
Psalm 28:7 The Lord is my strength and shield. I trust him with all my heart. He helps me, and my heart is filled with joy. I burst out in songs of thanksgiving.
Written by Gwendolen Rix
Inspired by the Holy Spirit
Copyright © Gwendolen Rix
Church is a she
Bride of Father Christ
Church is Catholic
Church is people
Catholic related to the whole
Father Christ called
Profess whole faith
Preserve all Sacraments
To proclaim Good News
Sent her to all nations
Copyright © Jacqueline R. Mendoza
We are on earth to know
To love Eternal God
To do good according to His will
And to go someday in heaven
Human being means to come from Eternal God
To go back to Eternal God
The Truth is
Our origins goes back farther than our parents
Our parents are Eternal God’s tool
For us to be on earth
Sometimes we feel our Creator is near
Sometimes we feel nothing at all
So that we might find the way home
Eternal God sent His Eternal Son
Who freed us from sin
Save us from the Eternal Father’s world destruction
Eternal God, wanted to destroy the world
People He created were sinning
Eternal Son stopped Him
Eternal Father is Yahweh
Means “I AM”
Eternal Son is Jesus Christ
He is the Highest Priest of the Catholic or Roman Catholic Church
We call Catholic priest, father
Represent Father Christ
He is the Highest Priest
The Eternal Father is in Him
Jesus Christ is Father Christ
He is the way
Copyright © Jacqueline R. Mendoza
Eternal God desires all men
To be saved
To come to the knowledge of the truth
That is of Father Christ Jesus
Father Christ must be proclaimed to
So that this revelation may reach
To the ends of the earth
Eternal God graciously arranged
That the things hHe had once revealed
For the salvation of all peoples
Should remain in their entirety
Throughout the ages
Be transmitted to all generations
Copyright © Jacqueline R. Mendoza
MY ALL IN ALL
THE ONE WHO KEEPS ME SANE.
THE ONE WHO GIVES ME STRENGTH.
HE IS MY LORD, MY SAVIOR, THE MESSIAH.
THE ONE WHO SPEAKS TO ME THE ONE WHO TOUCHES MY HEART.
THE ONE WHO DIED ON THE CROSS FOR MY SINS.
THE ONE WHO SET AN EXAMPLE FOR ALL FUTURE CHRISTIANS.
A TEACHER OF ALL TEACHERS AND A MOTIVATIONAL SPEAKERS OF THEM ALL.
HIS NAME IS JESUS AND HE IS MY SAVIOR.
Copyright © Quondreika Cheatham
The Church cannot forget her mission
Was made possible by the Motherhood of Mother Mary
Who conceived and bore a Son
Who is God from Eternal God
True Eternal God from True Eternal God
Mother Mary is truly the Mother of Lord Eternal God
Whose motherhood as the vocation to motherhood
Bestowed by Eternal God on every man raised to its highest level
Thus, Mother Mary becomes the mother of the Church and to be New Mama Eve
The mother of believers, the mother of the living
Copyright © Jacqueline R. Mendoza
Juliet would stare out the window
Hypnotized by a distant old tree
That had grown in the land;
She gave a command to soothe her curiosity;
We’d leave the castle’s safety
To journey to the old tree.
I aired my opinion though it wasn’t my dominion;
I promised to protect milady and her baby,
Although it was a waste of time for anyone of sound mind;
The castle a strange thing to leave behind in all its beauty,
Still, Juliet readied the baby accordingly.
We stepped onto the step shaped like a half-moon,
Left the castle and eventually arrived at the tree,
Milady lost her fascination when we arrived at the destination,
She conceded a misplaced temptation and turned promptly;
She decided to head to the west castle door for a change of scenery,
Since we'd left from the east castle door originally.
I lead the excursion for milady and her baby,
We neared the step to the castle when suddenly
I was in quicksand up to my neck; I reached up for the step,
Turned my head in regret to see Juliet and the baby
Drowning in the sand helplessly;
Then an arm reached up and seized me.
I had to ask milady, “Where is you baby?”
I believed she’d let her go selfishly;
“Milady, go down in the sand once more and get your newborn,”
Although she looked torn, she dove in the sand sacrificially.
Time seemed to stop, I could not see anybody,
but then I reached down and they emerged victoriously.
We listened as the baby wept,
We smiled and laughed sheepishly,
The doors opened to a beautiful sight—an outpouring of warm familiar light,
Her staff greeted her happily,
Everyone went about their tasks busily,
Synchronously smiling cheerfully.
Juliet insisted that I make a sign,
To lean at the door for all to see,
So I asked if anyone would lend me a pen.
I could find none although I tried mercilessly,
A woman pointed to a staircase behind me,
“Have you asked the man upstairs where one could be?”
I went up the stairs and found a man there;
I told him what I was seeking; he smiled incessantly;
He filled my request with kindness and respect;
I wished him the best and thanked him graciously;
I returned down the stairs expediently
And wrote the sign very clearly.
No one seemed concerned about what we’d learned,
That Juliet nearly met death along with her baby;
So I took up the pen and began to write again;
I started to write this poem that all could read it personally;
If you live with cheerful people in safety,
Avoid the temptation to stray from it—especially to settle mere curiosity.
Copyright © Kim Bond
The little hand lay open in his mother's palm;
Large tears washed streaks of white across two dirty cheeks.
His soft, dark eyes were wide with innocence and pain,
And small, trembling lips found it difficult to speak.
She held him close and wiped the spot of blood away
And applied to the injury a bit of balm.
"Now, don't cry; a carpenter often hurts his hands.
All will be well. Shall Mama sing to you a psalm?"
The child's sobs hushed; all around the house grew still
Save for the sound of Joseph's tools against the wood.
"Sing the shepherd's psalm, Mama; sing of the way through
Death's shadowed valley and the Shepherd who is good."
Mary pressed his rosy cheek closer to her breast;
Her eyes welled up with stinging tears; her face grew pale.
She held the little injured hand and knew not why
She trembled so at the imprint of one small nail.
Faye Lanham Gibson
Copyright © Faye Gibson