What did he mean
when he said
turn the other cheek?
Does it mean
violence isn't the answer
and peace is always the way?
Is it to deny the natural
To challenge the older laws
that have long been ensconced?
Maybe it's a come on
to the ungodly
"Give me what you got
I have no need to be afraid."
Maybe he meant
our bones are fragile
but our hope is not?
It shall never rust nor decay.
Surely a punch in the face
is no threat to one's life.
If a man put a gun to your wife
would you just let her die??
(surely life is precious
but God have mercy
should it come to this)
Should we cast down our weapons,
trade them for pruning hooks?
Is that what Jesus meant?
Or perhaps, maybe,
it begs you to take a deeper look.
and gaze at the wisdom God has sent.
Does it not surely mean that hatred
can't be snuffed out
by more hatred?
There are many trials we go through
but one thing we must know
is that love should always be sacred.
When he stated
Ye are the Light of the World
does that not imply
that the world itself is DARKNESS?
It's a gloomy forbidding place
with many pricks and thorns:
why add to the harshness?
For now it seems
we see through a glass darkly.
Having trouble deciphering
the passages and what they meant.
What about Romans 13
where it says, Execute vengeance
against those who do evil?
To whom is it referring
and to what extent?
Our limited understanding
leaves us grounded.
NOTE: This was written in response (and inspiration) to Liam McDaid's poem titled Thou Shalt Not Kill. It's a very fascinating topic, and one where I don't quite have answers...
This times, you would receive the two things from others.
Violence or grace.
Jealousy to your success,
And grace to your failure.
So, you should not be sad.
Survival is meaningless with grace.
You are the king or queen of love.
Try to distribute your love.
Don't want to see yourself as the beggar of love.
One day, future of mankind will be written with your love.
You will become history.
(The poem is dedicated to my favorite poet Charmaine Chircop.)
SANDIP GOSWAMI, INDIA
No need for violence or aggression
A passive acceptance of oppression
A powerful tool for social protest
To be peaceful and not violence many will resist
It presumes the intent of social change
Some believe not using belligerence is insane
Nonviolence is a synonym for pacifism
When you hear this word, you associate it with Civil Rights and racism
Nonviolence is not inaction it is the patience to win
You gain a lot of support, love, respect, and friends
See many people do not like change
So many have used diverse methods in their peaceful campaigns
Dr. Martin Luther King seen peace and equality to all races in his dream
Mahatma Gandhi helped India win its independence through bigotry that was extreme
I think that we should inevitably re-shape the social order in a lack of prejudice form
If we constantly use peace, we can weather many of these racial motivated storms
To listen to another's point of view is largely dependent on reciprocity
Not injustice, hate, and apathy
That is what makes me so angry
Remember what Jesus’ says, "love thine enemy”
"Nonviolence means avoiding not only external physical violence but also internal violence of
spirit. You not only refuse to shoot a man, but you refuse to hate him."
Martin Luther King
Treat people as if they were what they ought to be and you help them to become what they
are capable of being.
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
An eye for an eye only makes the whole world blind.
Mahatma Mohandas K. Gandhi
I saw a man once on TV
He was hunting grizzly bear
Then bear, he got the upper hand
And blood was everywhere
That man was in an awful state
But I lacked in sympathy
You live by sword, you die by sword
That’s just the way it be.
I knew a man, a fisherman
He hunted for big fish
But when his boat did over turn
He never got his wish
Cause big shark came and took his life
And Karma, it was done
It seems that this time hunter lost
And mother nature won.
It seems some folk are low on soul
And only live to kill
I have no sympathy for these
And nor I ever will
When the game gets turned around
They’ve only they to blame
Because they gained their pleasure from
This heartless killing game.
Storm coming, madam
Me-- I’m going up country--
Lay low and stay sweet*
*stay sweet--stay alive
November 26, 2012
Note: Political unrest near Nairobi, Kenya due to election strategies. Polish nun told me that she was warned by a local moonshine runner to hide. Too late. She was pistol whipped by local police who wanted more protection money. Didn’t get the money (it was a free clinic, so nurses had no money) Police beat the nurse/nuns and absconded with the very rare and precious AIDS meds to sell to the hospitals.Free AIDS clinic was forced to close.(Kenyan government does not have free health care for the poor) Nuns are recovering then being transferred to other clinics. Three went back to Europe forced into early medical retirement due to permanent injuries sustained by police and/looters. The care program(education and/or placement) for the children whose parents were AIDS patients is gone. Children have taken to the streets in desperation. Count your blessings.
Cain's Self Denial 2015
4 a m again alone,
In a room full of peers
A raging war is being fought,
Confined between your ears
Drafted into battle, with no enemy to engage
Yet volunteering unwillingly fueling dueling rage
Mystic river flows, with the blood of innocent
No longer even knowing, or caring how truth was bent
Angry at nobody, and everyone in between
Sabotaging yourself, and unraveling every seam.
Whose roles change day to day
A game with no clear rules
Consciously unconsciousness, I know that I must pay
What promise can be spoken, to bring life into the void, uttered self denial, to speak within the ploy
And the enemy I can't see, nor begun to understand
Callously reflects my cards and always tips my hand
The price you pay for breaking souls, just keeps on feeling cheaper
You soothe your conscience with the ancient line that your not your brother's keeper
There's no bad and there's no good, you played the only hand you could
And the hollow eyes around you, pretend they couldn't see
You shake your head and try your best to pretend you don't believe
Yet you know too well the horror. . . Of what you've come to be
The joy of the pheasant shoot.
Getting set for the big event
The good folk do their stuff
They beat the earth with sticks, do they?
With their little dogs so tough
They flush those pheasants from the scrub
So all can have some fun
Killing them with smiling faces
As they fire beloved guns.
Then as the pheasants in a panic
They bolt into the sky
Our hero’s with their guns in hand
Make sure that hundreds die
As the air is filled with the cracking sounds
As birds fall all around
Just so these fools can get there jollies
These corpses cover ground.
I wonder sometimes if these hero’s
Have any souls at all
That they could get such satisfaction
Doing these acts so cruel
Sometimes it leaves me speechless
At the way folk get their pleasure
Killing beauty just for fun
Is an ugly kind of leisure.
10 September 2013 @ 1340hrs
Your word oh God is like unto a lamp
that guides the footsteps of your flock
inscribed upon their hearts like a stamp
and the path of the master they stalk
On the road to Mount Zion they walk
and the gifts they bring you in praise
about their redeemer and King they talk
and his banner is the one that they raise
Their garments resemble the spirit of light
and crowns of radiance upon their head
wield the Word of Truth do they fight
with principalities the earth will shed
Against the rulers of darkness they stand
the fallen sons of God and their wiles
they hold the shield of faith in their hand
to defend against that which defiles
They wrestle not with flesh and blood
against the strongholds of darkness they wield
with the gospel of peace are their feet shod
and the sword of the spirit in the field
They fight against those who mankind would harm
the war is not with weapons of steel
they have gone forth to sound the alarm
to flee from the gods where the fallen do kneel
The knowledge of God teaches love and truth
and tender thoughts of understanding
so many minds acquired hatred in youth
and with the armies of Demons are banding
To understand God his Word you must know
discerning the powers that rule in his stead
the Word who is master the truth will you show
least on the wrong path you be led
The sword of the spirit is the Word of Truth
God does not torture or rape
The Demons are ones who with war do sooth
and the face of this world shape
sources IICor. 10:3-6 Eph. 6:10-17
Mark 13:2 II Tim 3:1-5
Apocalypse 11:18 , chptr 19
COPYRIGHT © all rights reserved
2010 C Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC
Made up super heroes we're taught to love
Made up archetypes we watch get rough
We cheer on as they dispense justice
We've stopped questioning why we idolize this
As our heroes have become more brutal and more violent
We've become more detached and less present
We're passing our degradation of what it means to be a hero to the next generation
They won't be impressed until it's more violent, bloodier, the next super brutal sensation
I'll write to you of medieval ages,
Foreign lands,knights and of many sages.
Medieval verse,and versification
With ancient meter I shall imitate,
To flesh out this age's animation.
And stories fictional and real I'll tell.
The souls of sundry virtues and vices
I shall show to men of all kinds of eyes,
So that I their souls might excite to life.
Who truly is alive without his senses,
yet many minds live with mental fences.
The Gods were chased away from this bright land,
And many countries were drowned in darkness.
Art was unpainted,clogged up fairy wells.
Unlearning became the new science of man
And music deemed to be of Satan birthed
For its mirth, and carnal rhythmic pleasures.
Oh of truth this divine art of muses,
Music's mothers, the soul with beauty fuses,
Yet still were libraries burned to ashes,
and with timeless secrets the fool clashes.
Empires undone from within and out,
To be hewn down by hounds to war devout,
Who from savage forests came to devour
The sheep and the pampered puppies of Rome.
The Gods did pity these once great races,
the light torchbearers which the dark faces
with it’s all consuming flames of sheer might
which scorches into ashes scrap and dross,
to fuel its holy energy and fire,
the giver to mankind of life so sought.
The paddock’s filled with bulls
All waiting there to die
They don’t have too much future
For the farmer, he’s the guy
Who has the power of life, and death
He decides what lives and dies
As he fattens each beast carefully
That’s where his money lies.
I see these creatures roaming round
And it makes me feel quite sad
To know that for my appetite
These beasts be treated bad
The taste of steak is mighty good
But what a price we pay
I eat my share of it, that’s true
Perhaps I’ll stop one day!
One paddock filled with bulls
It opens my eyes wide
To realize these wondrous beasts
Throughout the years have died
So I might feast with bulging belly
It really is not fair
Living on this little farm
It fills my heart with care.
To whit to be caught between two brothers
and become the sport of many others
She kept her heart from loving true
but not from the damage passing through
Oh twice spent the beauties coin
did deliberate vengence to purloin
thought knowingly did enter door
in spite she cast them to the floor
Though twas for couple it's own collusion
the device and trap it's own illusion
the crimes waylaid doth carry to the grave
to curse ones soul as fearful and not brave
Twas the story carried in her mind
her face to others she wished were blind
and with ones sight to look upon her heart
to know in violence was her start
She thought those sins would ever last
or to shake the paths of her past
in her fears her heart down cast
she did not know to forgiveness ask
Unable to differentiate between love and need
or if womans desire was only greed
If man looks upon her with his smile
is he looking for love or just another trial
She asks those questions to this day
must there be violence to graveyard pay
for many men have forced their way
in their behavior did have no say
COPYRIGHT © 2009 C Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC
Misery Laid Upon Soft Kindled Pine
The great Judge marks this hour at noon
bright was this day in month of June
A kinship richly felt with wooded glen
saddened by the evil in hearts of men
A fierce battle for land was fought
death reigned supreme all for naught
Blood splashed upon the limbs and leaves
sorrow grips as each family grieves
Dead feel not the heat of burning Sun
no real glory felt by those that won
Misery laid upon softly kindled pine
vultures fly waiting to come to dine
The carnage shook the stars on high
time not given from sweet good-byes
An unwelcome breeze stings this land
all for naught, but evil in death's hand
The great Judge marks this day of pain
as tears fall ,victims lay in dashing rain
A new day awaits the glory of hope sent
forgiveness for the wasted lives spent
June birds now flitter, renewing song
lives so saddened move right on along
Human spirit always racing to survive
rarely embracing joy of just being alive
Returning Sun shines upon life and all
man's fate is to live then greatly fall
Other journeys await in mystical realms
so many great ships, captains and helms
09, 15, 1977
note: I have little memory of why I wrote this one
back then. Perhaps a book I read, movie I watched
or blues that wrapped me so often during that time.
Race Riots don’t start in Baltimore quiet
Silence is not what they seek
Innocence stripped naked in childhood
Oppression festers in neighborhoods disease
Not genetically engineered in labs
Pharmaceuticals have a hand some say
To fire the imagination, inflame bigotry
Revolutions begin in fear, form with the youth on streets
Young men find abuse as a way of life
No future, no truth of any use
Oppression germinates, grows in the dark like tar
Spreads on the heart contagious as black butter
The plague is far from over
It prays on black and white furious waters poison
Sour behavior feeds with flies and maggots, garbage and decay
Race riots take place silent in the mind at first
End in a pool of blood or something worse
As i spit, the fire blazes off of my tongue, burns this love of anger inside of me
the sunny warmth of this heart seeks out what bestows me
and i continue to depict life in a red hue
so as i walk down the streets, red chucks on my feet and a red jansport backpack, i see
these kids on smack
and im thinking, damn, all high on the mainstream of life that such bitterness has
constrained them. That's not where i want to be
but as i continue to walk along this side of the sidewalk, the redness in these curtains
bleed and convey me, control me, compel me, intimidate me
And now I am lost. Absorbed into the brightest of red.
I represent RED.
So as I enter the doorsteps of this home,
the blue skies fade away,
and turn this dullness into gray.
As I take the first step through the door,
broken dishes scatter alongside every broken tint
of blue that rushes out of the tub,
palms raise and screams ring throughout my eardrums.
Such fate of tears I cannot unwind.
Take the shelter on this side of the sidewalk underneath the ocean sky
along with my family built by society.
We must hold strong together,
we must defend each other when in need and through struggles.
Bring forth the blue of the day.
I represent BLUE.
They walk along the lines.
I must walk in the middle.
They are bright with emotions.
I must dim myself out of respect.
In the royal purple chambers of loyalty
i sit in the middle of the road
not to disclaim their obstruction,
but to prevent it for change.
To seek out greater intelligence
and proclaim that life does not end
just because of society.
The consistence of this eager swells
Man whose that chick over there repping blue
thinking she can come up here and mess with my man.
Don't she know who she's messing with?
i got to show her wassup.
Can't come up in my territory
thinking she owns this place.
Who she think she is?
Such violence rises
Gosh that chick over there
look like she want to start something.
Need to call up the boys.
She don't know who she's messing with
and what she's about to get herself into.
Do she know who I am?
As these gangs and violence mix like water and oil,
full confrontation blend and war is reborn.
This division of color
leaves them blind to see what is really there.
To see who is really there.
More people die everyday
because one person chooses to allow that effect,
chooses to allow that resentment,
chooses to allow that hatred.
Red tears fill the ocean young souls swim in
just because, YOU claim another color.
May 19, 2007. I was murdered on the front steps
of my door. My little brother still remembers
the day i fell on my back.
May 30, 2007. I was murdered at my niece's birthday
party at the park because THEY thought that
I shot HER.
My last visual was seeing her blow our her candles
and making a wish.
June 1, 2007. I sit here in this room.
Between two cousins, two lifeless bodies.
One shot at home, the other shot at the park.
Such lust for regret represses
I do not know?
Looking out with apathy as strong as currents from the greatest seas. Destined to roam yet destinies free lost within the symphonic ballad containing all of lives mysteries. Will we ever see what we were ment to be or are we trapped within our self created Fantasy.
Screaming down from up above all of them calling "blood for blood" covering the cries from within being sure to never allow them to win. Within the blink of an eye and the burning within, turning tranquility to violence and violence will spread leaving those who oppose feeling hopless, dead. Suppressed by the sovereignty we are buried by power.In the end it's me,perhaps even we, who must begin to fear what humanuty will grow to be..