God is always love
Forever seek the kingdom;
Praise the creator
Keep giving what you can give
Please endure until the end
Protecting the meek ones earth
Watching over us
Helping us to cope with life
Comforted with hope and trust
When you find rhythm
You find your hearts inner core
Celebrate the times
Make them better than before
Reminisce and dance all night
Copyright © humble b
Some years ago a child was born
Early on a Christmas morn
And in the sky a star did appear
Drawing people from far and near
Bethlehem the holy city the angels said
Some people were so afraid and filled with dread
But still they came to see him and by the star were led
To where the little baby Jesus lay his head
They brought him gifts in worship and crowned the new born king
They thought he was well worth it though not so Herod the king
He wanted Jesus dead for good and so he did decree
Kill all the little babies that should get rid of he
But luckily they missed him, the family had moved on
And when they went a searching, the baby he had gone
He lived to tell his story of his father’s kingdom to come
For this Jesus was crucified and on a cross was hung
He said forgive them father, they know not what they do
And then forgave us for our sins, can this man be true?
His family took him from the cross and laid his body down
Then wrapped his nail holed hands and feet, the laid him in the ground
So when I think of Christmas and of the infant birth
I often think of what we did through all the joy and mirth
So please enjoy your Christmas but try to spare a thought
And think of how we crucified the man who love had brought
Copyright © Owen Yeates
my hidden diamond
love's sweet jewel
Beauty so pure
your character delights
my devotion forever
Heartbeat on screen
My unbelief ceased
first squeezed my finger
Copyright © Christina Holmes
I look all around and what do I see?
Christmas in code, a pure fantasy.
A plump happy Santa, a child on his knee,
Under the bough of a tall Christmas tree.
Stockings and ribbons, merry and bright,
Plenty of gifts of varying heights.
Snowmen and reindeer, angels and lights,
Dreaming of feasting and sleigh rides at night.
But friend, don't be taken with this imagery,
For Christmas is more than what we can see.
True Christmas began in a whole different way,
A virgin, a stable, a babe on the hay.
And God with a plan, to save men from sin,
A Savior, a gift for mankind, sent from Him.
A humble beginning, no earthly delights,
He broke through the darkness and gave us the Light.
So do not be fooled by this fanciful sight,
That does not remember God's power that night.
He conquered our sin and freed us from death,
For Christmas is CHRIST, and His gift is the best.
Copyright © Laura Leiser
I wrote this one with a friend in mind;
Her growing belly tells what most think the whole story
Her age is a cause for shame
She is scared And feels so alone
Strangers look at her And laugh
Pointing and wispers
She thinks her only way out is to destroy the thing inside
Angels and demons struggle in her young head
Fighting for life
She goes to church
Pro-life people shun her
“She is just a young child”
Against all odds she decided to tell her friends and family
She is going to see this through
She encounters lots of anger
What a little whore she is
God seems to not love her
She makes an appointment
Tears in her eyes she ascends
She opens the door to the clinic and climbs the stairs
Carrying the weight of her cross
A older women dressed nice with hair as bright as the sun
Do not harm this child
Take comfort my dear sweet girl
I have been where you are
I have received their teasing
Do not listen to them
God himself has blessed you
The bulging belly tells a story
Your naked hand proves how brave you really are.
You've made it this far and you will make it even more.
Not every woman out there can do what God has blessed you with.
The woman gave a hug and the tears started to pour.
Back in the car she took a deep breath.
With a hand on her belly she spoke to the little child.
" I don't know if your a girl or boy, or even if I will be a good mom"
I promise to you I will try to do my best, just please don't turn out like me and be wild!"
She started the car and prepared to drive home for the worse
She knew this child was not going to be easy to have
Inside her was a little life growing bigger each day
No matter how hard it was going to be with her faith in God she would find a way.
Copyright © mandy cabral
A horrendous act
that could only be imagined
as Insidious and contemptuous
Many were massacred
The Hausa Militias took over
Zaria was in their palm
A horrendous act
That could only be imagined
As Insidious and contemptuous
Many were massacred
The Hausa Militias took over
Zaria was in their palm
The entire Kaduna was under their feet
The violent hollow-minded men
It was religious animosity
That under-bellies an ethnic hatred
These men are insane
Men were butchered
Women were slaughtered
Children matcheted at will
All in the Jihad against
Miss World Beauty Pageant
And blasphemy against the Prophet
They unleashed waves of brutal massacres
Houses were razed, churches burnt
Shops and offices turned into ashes
Yet "Allahu Akbar" is echoed
After every killing by the intemperate bullies
Inhabitants of NDA Streets were not spared
The men that carries religious insanity
Majored in Major Street
They became the killing Captain of Captain street
The men in uniform were hapless, yet helpless
These men are enmeshed and immersed in cultism
Of the atavistic and barbarous proportion called Jihad
Sweat of decades were turned to ashes within seconds
The cost of human lives were immeasurable
It was to be and it was
Months of fear
Weeks of tremor of terror
Days of bloodshed
Hours that carries sorrow
Minutes that lacks emotional indemnity
Seconds of bloody tears
Survivors became refugees at the NDA’s field
The only safe place in the land
No food, no water, no shelter
Indeed, no hunger
Except for hunger to be alive
Days where a father shuns family tie
And strangulate his baby for survival
Less, the warriors will unearth
The rest of the family in the hide out
The baby’s cry was a taboo
Gush! The only option was for the
Father to throttle his own baby to death
To keep the other members of the family alive
Many flee without taking a pin
Thousands left behind houses . . . properties
A journey to start all over again
Separation set in
Frustration envelopes many
For the inanity of men that
Carries blood with religion.
Alayande Stephen T.
October 11, 2008
An account of brutal massacre occasioned
By unbridled religion intolerance in
Kaduna State, Nigeria in 2002 during the aborted
Miss World Beauty Contest in Nigeria as
Narrated by an eye witness Latifat of UNILORIN.
Copyright © Alayande Stephen
God Knew Me Before I Was Born!
God knew me, before I existed!
He was there, before my name was listed!
Before I was born, he had a divine plan!
He was there, before I reached out my hand!
Before I knew who I even was, or my name…
His life for mine, way why his son came!
Before I could put on my shoes and clothes…
He had called me! It was I… That he chose!
Before I was old enough to make up my own mind…
He was there waiting! So patient and kind!
Before I became an adult… I refused to believe!
Whatever God offered... I didn’t want to receive!
Before too long… I had my own family and home.
But then family left me... And I was alone!
Before God… I came, and cried and repented!
The inside of my mind felt confused
Before I really knew what was actually going on…
God reached inside and forgave me of past wrongs!
Before the next day was coming about…
I found a new love and peace throughout!
Before God, I know that he’s changed me!
I have found a new life for eternity!
Won’t you come before God and accept him too?
You’ll never know what he can do for YOU!
By Jim Pemberton
Copyright © Jim Pemberton
UNSUPPORTED CODE What If… Christmas Never Came???
What if Christmas never happened?
What if Christmas never came?
Things around here would be different!
It wouldn’t be the same!
What if the baby Jesus was never born in a manger?
Mankind would be in serious trouble. We’d all be in danger!
If the baby Jesus wasn’t born. There would be no nativity.
We wouldn’t be able to display this during our “festivity.”
It’s almost like this now!
It’s an “ever increasing business.”
It seems like nearly everyone wants
“Christ out of Christmas!”
Why does it seem like Christmas is
losing it’s true meaning?
The very words; “Merry Christmas,”
seem to be quickly disappearing!
Many say; “Happy Holiday.”
They worry they may “offend.”
Having a “holiday” without Christ….
We need to put Jesus Christ back into
our CHRISTmas season!
He is what Christmas is about! HE is the very reason!
May we all take some time to rejoice in our savior’s birth.
May there be shouts of JOY! From the corners of the earth!
Let’s not take Christ out of our joyous celebration!
We need him so much right now!
All over this great nation!
May we bring to him a heart of love
for everything he’s done.
As we bring honor to Christ. God’s precious son!
May we continually offer to him a heart filled with praise!
Not only at Christmas time… But all of our days!
By Jim Pemberton
Copyright © Jim Pemberton
We are all born in to this unknown world
As time goes by we grow up as a boy or a girl,
Life is precious every minute of everyday
We all take for granted that it will always be this way,
But, as you get older you realize how precious life can be
So as we leave this earth we will go above for all eyes to see.
Written By: Unique Poetry 2014
Copyright © Michelle Born
The time of year when the joys
Rain down form Heavens
When the families get together,
When the children look up in hope
Santa’s fill surprise in the socks at night
When the snowman appears in gardens
There comes a the giggles and chants
Colored balls in trees and stars shining
Exchanges of greetings nights of prayers
We gather to celebrate the coming of Joy
Night to celebrate the Holy Jesus
Night to celebrate new Life, for its
The time of year when joys
Rain down from Heaven…
Copyright © azim mohammed
like a mother giving birth;
with extra emotions stirring,
so hard to handle at first,
but so worthit as it happens.
undying new hope,
as a new life opens.
grace and blessing with every thought,
as strength of new legacy takes over.
the fire it has lit,
fitted with joy of tears.
recovery with healing,
inspires new depths of apathy.
no more tears of regrets,
just the laughter of angels.
just seeing tomorrow as a new chance,
thanking God for a life saved.
sacrifices for a good cause;
never being too troubled,
or too lost,
to go back and thanked who started it all.....!!!
Copyright © Donn Ronquillo
Part of the Plan
The fields were cold that long winter night
And I just shivered and shook
Then came a sound and a brilliance of light
So I turned to the sky for a look
The memories that’s made
Of the music that played
As the words rained down on earth
Of a baby that’s born
On this very morn
Our long promised savior’s birth
I laid my staff down
Hurried into the town
To search for this mother and child
When I found them I knelt
For I truly felt
My calling when that baby smiled
I’ll follow this boy
Through heart ache and joy
And stand by his side as a man
For I know even now
That somewhere, some how
I play a small part in his plan
Copyright © mike dailey
Come travel to the town of Bethlehem with me
Let’s observe the venue, reflect upon what we see
I see a place where politics is harsh and shrewd
Where feeling forgotten, people have a vile mood
I see an Emperor who made a great decree
Go home take the census; you owe taxes to me
I see a young man, responsible, able, and proud
Who complied with the order, did not complain loud
I see significance in his ancestral line
The connection must be claimed, they could not decline
I see a young woman, greatly pregnant with child
Her time would come soon; the journey would not be mild
I see a man and woman, tested but in love
Confused, yet convinced of their mission from above
I see a crowded town without a lodging place
For poor strangers there was little mercy or grace
I see the pain of labor, loneliness, and stress
With groans, desire, and effort; a birth did progress
I see a happy face, immaculate with joy
Overflowing with love for a her baby boy
I see a stable, filled with the stench of manure
No place for a new born, vulnerable and pure
I see a child lying on a mattress of hay
Who humbly had arrived in the natural way
I see a baby wrapped securely in strips of cloth
One sent from heaven resting in a feeding trough
I see a proud mother gazing at her first born
Unaware that others will stare at him with scorn
I see a town that ignorantly missed the sign
Thus ignored the presence of this infant divine
I see shepherds on guard in the dark of the field
Keeping watch over their flocks with protecting shield
I see night interrupted by an angels face
As the glory of the Lord was shone in that place
I see heavenly beings with great news to proclaim
The joy of one who surpasses every name
I see a choir of angels as their voices ring
Glory to God in the highest heaven they sing
I see them praising God in sounds of sweet release
God sends His favor, in Messiah there is peace
I see shepherds, curious, gazing, with minds stunned
Leaving their flocks at night to see what had been done
I see action, let’s go to town right now and see
This savior the angels sang about with such glee
I see a young family, a man and his wife
Loving and guarding their child, in a world of strife
I see shepherds, with amazing joy in their eyes
Who left telling a story of this great surprise
I see a mother treasuring the day’s events
Pondering her involvement in God’s great intents
I see myself, a sinner, as part of the story
Praise Jesus my savior, to God be the glory.
Copyright © Brent Cloyd
With the right of messianism,
And the depth of free will,
They journeyed to Bethlehem,
To hear the parents spill.
Zoroastrians true and ready,
Ripe for the monologue bold,
They offered gold and incense,
And on Mary’s story they were sold.
Called wise men, magicians,
They could interpret the land,
Jailing’s, fishing booms and births,
And so told people about their hand.
They knew the power of the stars,
The connection, their meaning,
So followed one to that lively abode,
Where Jesus lay with apparent feeling.
God did not appear to them,
By a star in vocality,
But they just gave cerebral relevance,
To that asteroid motioning entity.
The gifts they offered and gave,
Did not signify the incarnation,
But were considered gestures,
Of the magi’s visitation.
Their religion let them speak about,
The predicted life of the babe;
Prediction was their position and seat,
As at semiology they were abe.
Christianity did not come from Judaism,
Zoroastrianism was its predecessor,
As its followers searched for a messiah,
Every day, with such earnest vigour.
Christianity centres around a messiah,
A cultural saviour from social retardation,
Which Jesus was back them,
In a world of poor folks’ isolation.
Jesus was a Jew, a temple boy,
But proclaimed his own religion,
To follow him and not just the Torah,
Which was in no way old and gone.
The impact of these Zoroastrians,
On Israeli life and society,
Can only be understood,
As Christianity’s modernity.
Copyright © Rhoda Monihan
Fundamentalists have misinterpreted the wise men,
Magnified them and blown up their faith in god,
Claim that the magi had an epiphany, heard from above,
In searching for, analysing and interpreting the nexus odd.
So what’s the real story of the wise men,
Because it’s they who had societal eyes,
They were listened to and very much respected,
By the many, the productive and the whys.
There was something going on, a wave, a tide,
To initiate socialisms feeling, equalising bride,
Which let the poor and the working citizen,
Be treated medically as they did not ever sin.
A rebel was born not through experience, but by birth,
To parents out with the marriage contract,
Whose bond was love with natural affection,
And who reared the child on such an astute fact.
The wise men understood Jesus beginnings,
Accepted their power to enable his work and carvings,
And balanced his parents sexual immorality,
By giving reputation, a promise for him to be god on high.
The magi, as Zoroastrians, believed in free will,
That actions are completely yours, not gods,
Not prompted, divine, suggested or derived,
But yours to enjoy or for you to suffer from your frauds.
So as wise men they advocated themselves,
As the finders of the messiah of the jews,
As his pronouncers and original validators,
As the hinters of his apparent short fuse.
I was always taught, right through childhood,
That god told the wise men where to go,
What stance to take about this needy child,
And how to interpret his parents certain know.
Zoroastrianism is the total explanation,
Of the people’s toleration of Jesus Christ,
And I posit that societal interpreters have secured,
Much sociology, which was by them allured.
Copyright © Rhoda Monihan