These Philosophy Ode poems are examples of Ode poems about Philosophy. These are the best examples of Philosophy Ode poems written by international PoetrySoup poets
your belief system is the major indication
of what you can accomplish with positive validation
if you can see it, you can achieve
if you can perceive it, you can believe it
underachievers are always underestimating themselves
non-achievers are always looking for a handout and the most help
average achievers do only what is usually just required
but overachievers strive to realize their heart's desire
in The Bible Mark 6:5-6 are two of the saddest scriptures to me
it tells of the time when Jesus went to His birth place
to spread His Father's ministry
it is somewhat troubling to me when He could find there no relief
because the Nazarenes were in a mind set of utter unbelief
even though He had worked many miracles
in most every town he had ventured to
the citizens of Nazareth were unwilling to give Him His proper due
a showdown in Nazareth, Jesus trying to evangelize God's word
but they saw Him only as the carpenter's son attempting to do the absurd
the power of God can only manifest in an arena of positivity
it can not gown nor gravitate in an atmosphere of negativity
Jesus was rendered powerless, the passion in Him had subsided
because the unbelieving Nazarenes remained unyielding
and completely one-sided
there is a significant amount of unbelief
in many church congregations
where some are just sayers of the Word
and don't believe in the power of the consecration
it takes one drop of negativity
to yield a whole crop of unbelieveability
understand that the Living God can't work in anyone's life
if they are in a state of mind clouded by negativity and strife
there is nothing that can't be accomplished if you know this in your heart
that God can work miracles just believe in His powers from the start
for God can move mountains, He can make a river divide
His powers are omnipotent, just keep a positive attitude in mind
don't undermine God's purpose for you life, allow Him some control
don't underestimate what He can do for you, if you surrender to Him your soul
always look for the victory, don't settle for defeat or loss
use the power of your belief, the power of the blood, the crown and the cross
if you believe God can open doors
what more could you ask for
just believe with God that you can do it
just trust in Him and let Him prove it
just believe in the power that is Jesus Christ
and imagine what you can accomplish
if you just let Him work in your life
The shadows know the scent of cloves,
as Nyx devolves from sleep's crossroad,
the night-owls croak to domes above,
her ode the stars turns to abode.
Her firmness strings the scene's stillness,
her laughter waves in hung ether,
small hours' submit her thoughts' steepness,
advancing 'mid green heather.
The night birds watch - with eyes of amber
night wraiths descend from stardome flare,
upon a sky-drome meander
that ghostly travelers time-share.
Brilliant's the moon in ventured glory,
above shapes lays and daunting wraiths,
her eminence surpassed souls' faith,
to hark the travelers' lone story.
And kind advanced to lands of blooms,
as night conveyed upon each breath,
she confers grand the kiss of death,
with fates to weave on lethal looms.
On darkened growth she shines dismal,
In Stygian reign she rules - abysmal,
enchanted souls shall dwell in void,
with Acheron's old paths destroyed.
© G.V. 10-03-2012, All Rights Reserved
Nyx = Night
Have you ever been moved by beauty?
stood and listened to the birds sing?
been transfixed by the sight of deer?
Watched the eagles soaring the thermals?
gazed on the beauty of a woodland lake?
or sat by a ring of fairy mushrooms?
Just as nature herself enthralls us
so too do the written words of poets
I find my self transfixed by them
As their words weave their magic
no matter if in verse or rhyme
flights of fantasy are inspired
Bless you all poets for your gift
it is the magic, the fix that inspires
as you part with your precious words
SOLDIER OF BATTLES.. Steve Hudson
It started, in silence, in infancy; the eyes look beyond the darkness
To understand the sounds of rage, echoes of misunderstanding,
The beginnings of normalcy wrought with disturbance,
Bereavement for the loss of innocence and the first lesson learned.
The lines in ground becoming clearer.
The only thing that ever came easy for me is warring,
Not because I chose the ground, but because it chose me.
Here is your sword; here is your battle,
The field is endless and there is no turning back,
So find your heart and find your place among the ranks
You sojourn with.
You tell one another it will be okay, and that we will pull through,
But no one really knows.
Its only after our first encounter and mortal blow that we find some
Courage to face another foe.
The welcomed peace endured for a season, then skies darken
On eminent splayed horizons and shadowy realms of spirit
You try to make sense of the next wave of terror,
Taunted and vexed at every turn.
Your enemies take form in shapes of, what is true?
Wrestling, pondering among bloody concepts and the why.
Wounds received through fearful encounters take shape of scars,
Scars take shape of trusted moments carried through
Onslaughts of deception.
Fallen men on smoldering ground, tormented by hounds of confusion.
This is how it started, but not how it ended for you see,
There was One we found in heated skirmish
Battle hardened and sure footed, the spear and shield wielded
With skillful hands, He inspired confidence in us all.
On days we found respite, He sat with us and taught strategies in warfare,
The secrets to winning the hearts and minds of defeated bretheren.
The certainty and comfort in His eyes, told stories of ancient victories held.
A kingly stature though plain to view, never considered Himself better
Then the lowliest man I knew.
We asked about some of the scars He brandished,
“They are scars received from the greatest of man’s struggles,” He said,
He got them while defending the poorest of souls.
It was then we understood, it was of us He spoke.
So now we gladly fight for this One who became the captain of our heart,
We’ve learned from the truths that have pierced our very souls,
our greatest cause and reason to be.
A soldier of battles was He…
Here take my hand,
I have watched the world torn itself apart,
Through agony and despair
I have seen the tears of the innocence’s and smiles from the wicked
How long does this world needs to endure?
The sufferings cause by war and sickness;
Life long torment endured by those who stand upright for the truth,
If you take my hand you will know my purpose of existence
I am Sorrow, that’s who I am.
Here take my hand,
And know the false teachings of this world
Everywhere I look, I see lies
Lies this world has created,
I wish to bring light into this world, if only my words were heard
And my teachings are truly followed.
My followers are lost, instead of finding those who are lost!
If you take my hand, you’ll know my purpose of existence
I am Truth, That’s who I am
Here take my hand,
And you will know the handiwork of man
God created man in His image, and man created society in his image.
A society of greed, lust, hatred, envy and the thoughts of evil towards one another,
A spitting image of mankind darkest part of their hearts,
Know then, sorrow and truth
They know me for I surpass them and bring them all to being
I am Love.
Take my hand,
And let me ease your sorrows and,
Let me open your eyes to the lies this world has implanted in your heart
I have seen them ignore the poor out on the streets,
As they are in a hurry to merry in charity, to claim names for themselves,
Mankind has truly been deceived by the lair or have they deceived themselves?
Know me and know love, for truelove is unconditional.
Here take my hand,
And know my words are true and just!
For I represent those whose voices have been silent.
I represent those, whose strength has being taken,
I am the shield for the weak and the sword for the righteous.
I have seen those who uphold the laws are the ones who break them.
I have seen the blood of the innocence turning the river red.
Laws are meant to rule man and not man to the rule laws,
Corrupting the true law is a sin, for it corrupts justice!
Take my hand! And know what true justice is.
I am Justice, and question me not on laws for I know the laws.
Did you know, even the wingless
Bird can fly to the sky?
Frenzied however he is a mad
man still survives.
An acquisitive hunter is
Determined to kill, at least an
animal a day.
Did you know you can spend;
Hours, days, weeks and perhaps
Months, trying to analyze situations,
And sometimes you can leave
Situations on the floor and move on.
Did you know a flower still luster
Even when not in the Bouquet?
A sophisticated weapon once failed
How many times have you counted,
That you had tragedies but still lived?
Did you know?
a portrait is a picture or a likeness of an object, person or place
a rendering, a representation of something in all of its grace
but a portrait of a Pastor is more than just a facade
it's not an image of what man thinks but a reflection of God
people come with their own agendas about what a Pastor should portray
but it's not his clothes nor his cars it's the message from God he conveys
a Pastor should be pictured as a faithful speaker who reveals the truth in his speech
an under shephard of our Lord Christ and it's the Gospel that he'll preach
a Pastor should be drawn as a mentor to his members and circumspect in his behavior
a prayer partner in conjunction with the Holy Spirit and Jesus our Savior
a Pastor should be an image of one who comforts all in their times of need
a teacher of the Gospel who in his flock tries to plant God's righteous seeds
a delineation of an obedient servant leader who stands firmly on God's Holy word
and he should not be the subject of gossip nor the pettiness of this world
a portrait of a Pastor should be a comment on his spiritual calling
an anointed man whom God will use to catch us when we've fallen
a portrait of a Pastor should be an exhibit of compassion, wisdom and respect
a display of leadership, kindness, humility and intellect
it should be a picture of a potter who tries to mold us into godly shape
a silhouette of a counselor who doesn't judge but advises when we make mistakes
a portrait of a Pastor should be a reflection of the image of our Lord Christ
a man who will always allow the Holy Spirit of God guide and rule his life
The juggler moves his fingers fast,
he likes to smile and to deceive,
when people laugh at his recast,
his goal's higher things to achieve,
for Bathsheba applauds and laughs.
Her hands she claps with sullen glee,
changed him to a marionette,
that sprawls for her obediently,
jinxed tragicomical duette,
he jumps defeating gravity.
The juggler walks on tightened rope,
St. Bernard will protect his act,
frail equilibrium's postponed,
he'll pass across, crows' croaks detract,
agleam granite pavement's below.
Unmoved he laid, (lost souls misgive) ,
the juggler sprawled did not bemoan,
the sawbones's charlatan and thief,
as Bathsheba failed to dethrone,
the clown's tangential unknown grief.
© G. V. 12/23/2012, All Rights Reserved
( Iambic tetrameter form.)
a couple had a good son whom they sent off to grad school
his goal to become a doctor as he was smart and nobody's fool
now on his own he decided to no longer attend Sunday service
he felt that God had no need for his personal worship
some people tend to feel that God doesn't require their praise
the question of a debt of gratitude in their minds has never been raised
but what people fail to realize or even comprehend
is that it was God who gave life to them
Creator of the universe and every living being
Creator of everything we're touching, hearing and seeing
Dr. Albert Einstein once made a very telling remark
that seeing how the human eye works is proof there's a God
when viewing this wonderful world and all the magnificence it beholds
one can clearly see the hand of God that has uniquely unfold
a sunrise, a sunset or a rainbow after a spring shower
a solar eclipse, a child being born are all proof of God's great power
He created man and it was He who gave us the breath of life
He gave us His love and grace and His son as a sacrifice
things have happened in our lives of which we're not even aware
times when God has shielded us from the evil that's out there
He's sent His mighty angels to watch over our backs
He's sent His heavenly warriors to stop any and all attacks
an eternal debt of gratitude and praise to God we owe
but we're not the only beings who are in the know
the angels in heaven praise His holy name
the devil in hell also bows down to Him in shame
created in His image His likeness we now bear
we're His beloved children for whom He tenderly cares
He makes Himself known to us every morning, noon and night
He is our source, our all in all, our strength and our light
an eternal debt of praise from us towards God is due
and as you read this poem I hope you get a clue
God doesn't need anything from us He's complete on His own
It's us who needs God as we can't do it alone
God is great, God is sovereign, He is the King of kings
He's all powerful, He's all mighty and controls everything
there is nothing in this universe that is not under His command
and no matter what we think He holds the whole world in His hands
and today that young man who thought that God didn't need his praise
is now a doctor and disciple of Christ whose hands are forever raised
an eternal debt of praise from us the Lord God is due
because if it wasn't for the Lord God there would be no me nor a you
There've been times in my life
where I've just had to say,
"I must, give it all up,
for, it's that kind of day"!
I must, really say this
I really, just must;
if I didn't say it,
then, it wouldn't be, "just".
There's this crazy, old man
we'll just call him, "Doc";
who fills up blank pages
with, "poetical talk".
He's scribbled, and scrabbled
'til way, past bed-time,
trying to finish each poem
and, complete every rhyme.
If he hadn't done this
he'd surely gone, "mad",
his nonsensical nature
was, all that he had!
No hidden agenda
when first, he wrote down,
each poem of nonsense
to erase a childs' frown.
And, Doc always did this
..so that , all of his poems
were merely geared, to amuse.
He loved to let nonsense
be the order of the day,
and, with every poem
we all smiled, the same way.
His only intention
was to set our minds, "free",
his style, just did it
With his own tongue, in cheek
we knew we'd been had,
and his poems rhymed perfectly
proving he was no, "fad"!
The volumes of topics
that Doc's written of,
included all that could be
written.....below, and above.
He's written of magic,
puzzles, and games...
..with, strange little creatures,
with, strange little, "names".
The, crazier his story,
the saner he'd feel,
and, the more that we heard
convinced us they were, "real"!
His poems, were genius
as he weaved us, a tale;
with, nonsensical rhymes
that did so, without..."fail".
"Old Doc", has quit writing
he's up in heaven,
this year, his birthday'd ...
make him, a hundred, and seven!
He's given advice,
taught what we must do,
he said, "Be who you are...
..no-one's youer, than....you!"
He's maybe still writing
in, heaven....you see,
that'd be just like him
as, that's who he must, be!
That, silly old doctor...
..as silly, as a goose;
we all loved his poems,
for, we loved Dr. Seuss!