Probably not real
Yet he lets bad things happen
How can he exist?
Beauty of nature
Why condense it down to God?
Isn’t life enough?
The body: sacred
We’re all made in God’s image
I am a Muslim, I’m not a “terrorist”.
How can I be a terrorist
when I’m against all kinds of injustice.
I’m against every act of sin and evil.
I hate all kinds of crime and even loathe
what Adolf did to the innocent Jewish people.
I hate what God hates; He (Allah) hates oppression.
I’m against stealing, against taking away
people’s loved ones and belongings for no reason.
I’m against suicide bombings,
against racism, against ignorance,
against self-harm and even derision.
What God hates I hate and God (Allah) hates
oppression. I hate it too when people fight
for foolish nationalistic reasons.
I’m a Muslim; I follow the true religion
of mercy from Allah the Most Merciful
Who simply wants us to answer His Call
to believe in Just One -Just One God of all.
So don’t call me a “terrorist” when I clearly
don’t have a ‘mass destruction’ weapon
and my goal in life is to
be with our God (Allah) in Heaven.
My ancestors walking in the night
using oil lights and moonlight for guides
while being instructed to Wade in the Water
to camouflage their scents like disguise
The Sweet Chariot awaited
so they could ride away
Harriet was a soldier
and it wasn't an option to be caught during the day
That's the same mentality Nat Turner had when he sang
They would follow the drinking gourd
so all were in accord to go north
The Gospel Train was coming
and at the end of the journey
was a fine reward
Freedom was coming
and it was a long time coming and
they walked until they heard freedom bells ringing
and I still hear their tired footsteps running
Thinking of My Darling Nelly Gray
Stolen from my arms a random September day
and eliminated our chances to run away together
No family ties, no love, no strength says the oppressor
Then I hear the drums beat in the darkness
giving me the hope of finally being free
Maybe I'll follow them this time on faith
on bended knee
There must be a place for me among the light
of this darkness
Among oppression, thieves, evil-doers
no thought on their conscience
Thank goodness for the safe houses that
supported our traveled distances
and for the conductors who bore witnesses
and may God have mercy on the souls who
were against this
and on those who chose to forget this sh@!
I still hear crying in quilts of safety
because I know that the burden was heavy
to be at the mercy of nature and patrol men
catching run-away slaves for money
Some did it bare feet with freedom ahead of this
loved induced journey and they made it
So all that bull about how your life is hard
just stuff it in an envelope and save it
The three kings follow Good News, gold light
Jesus Christ is born bringing True Love.
An earthly existence
A universe beyond my minds, comprehension
Life lessons reviewed
I am not lost, after all!
I am a willing participant
Serving, the Father, of all creation
His son combined, ‘producing life’ as we know it
Representing them, in everything I do
I am nothing, without Love!
My heart full of faith, loyal service I give
Learning how to unconditionally serve, as the Father unconditionally, loves me
Worshipping our Divine Creator’s existence
Choosing to live, moment to moment
Being as one with ‘Our Universal Father’
No physical permanency
My physicality, disappearing
My mortality existence, I let go of
My spirit alive!
‘I am only passing through!’
A unique, experience of mortality
A gift, I am blessed to experience, to live!
In union with
In Father Christ through
Profession of the Catholic faith
Reception of the Sacraments
In all communion with the Catholic Church
Beta, take the tea to the drawing room
First comb your hair and make a respectful smile
Serve the tea and touch their feet
Respect your elders, that is Indian style.
Heard my mother, as I always heed
Did the task, but it was a task indeed.
But a question had got stuck amiss
And it wouldn’t get off, until I wrote this.
Is the respect in the union of our hand and their feet,
Or is it in the sincere, honest and heartfelt greet?
“Youth is spoilt,” elders always complain,
“This isn’t modernity,” I don’t refrain.
Touching elder’s feet does no harm
It has been our culture since the time of Lord Ram.
But what is the meaning of the culture
If there is no respect in the heart,
We need to have the feeling
And not the idol on the cart!
Though the poem is about an Indian culture, but it has just been taken as a symbol for many other cultures in many other regions and religions which are blindly considered by their followers as being 'good' without reflecting about it. The lack of acceptance of new ideas have also been dealt with.
Beta (Hindi) = son
spoilt = spoiled
Lord Ram = A Hindu God.]
Sometimes as we speak the truth of what the LORD,directs us
to reveal to the rebellious house and nation__
We become afraid of their looks,and maybe dismayed
at their words!
We try to advise them to do the right things,to stay away
from rebellion and sin,
But we are perceived to be their bitterest enemies!
For the LORD has put upon our hearts to speak his words to them___
Maybe they will hear or they will forbear.
Woe the rebellious, for they begin to show dissatisfaction___
They need us to cheer them with propaganda to be seen
as their supporters!
A fearful watchman will cover his mouth with hands,and
become like a dumb dog!
And the devil rejoices when the watchman cannot bark,and
begin to see evil good,
and good evil!
Watchman beware when everybody speaks well of you,
getting to expose the rebellious house__
you are deemed as their enemy!
Watchman do not blow the trumpet to be loved, by everyone in the
rebellious house and nation!
Watchman rejoice,if your name is written down in the books of heaven,
because putting confidence in unreliable man is vanity!
Day by day we perceive the blesssings of the Lord,
The snowy day that reminds us about the blessings of warmth and friendship,
Friendship that is distant and always remembered,
Miracles that are difficult to define,
A church and portals that you used to visit,
Structures beautiful, unique and powerful,
Hymns sung and bible verses read,
Choirs where the bells ring and the songs are sung,
Ministers preaching the wisdom of God,
Relatives forever loved and protected by the Lord,
Blessed reunions and visits redefined,
Talents shared and appreciated,
The Lord's poet blessed by God's friendship,
Athletic strength as a senior guided by God,
Royalty sacred and divine, a blessing to mankind.
Author: Gwen Meyer-Erlach Schutz
I do not know?
(January 15, 1929 – April 4, 1968)
they shot you down
all those years ago
your dream lives on
and always will
for though much has been
gained since you dreamed
there is much to fight for
and much more to struggle for
and much, much more
to fight for still
your dream resounds in
our hearts and we pledge
this to you today
for though they shot you down
all those years ago on a memphis day
we shall overcome
this we do believe
deep in our hearts
we shall overcome
(for Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.)
Wur in RE an the nuns are gien
oot sweeties, fur getting the kweschins right.
Three oota three, then she’s askin mae who Jesus’ mither is.
‘Ah doan’t know sista,’ ah tell hur.
She isnae happy an tells mae tae hink aboot it. So ah dae
an ah wurk oot Jesus wis god. It wis a trick kweschin,
‘he didnae hiv ah mither.’ Ma
sweet stoats aff the side ae ma heid.
She’s spittin in ma coupon fur a name, an
diggin hur digits in ma neck.
‘Ah doan’t know who Jesus’ friggin mither wis!’
Miraculously ah float tae the front ae the cless. Ma haun’s oot,
bit ah doan’t hink shill hit mae wae that big stick. Thwack!
Ah look doon it the bloody gash through ma puddlin
eyes, ‘yoo’ve broke ma haun’ ah croak,
then turn roon an boak.
When I was a little boy things were complicated
Let me start again
Yesterday I turned 7 and I don’t know how to read or write
I don’t know words and I don’t know letters
(Don’t ask what I’m doing here. Just have faith.)
My parents think I’m slow and not too bright
We are very poor and can’t afford no schooling
But they gave me a bible and made me make my first Communion
(That’s a Catholic thing involving a thin disc of bread called a holy host or holy communion, to be consumed.)
I use the bible for a pillow
Someone told me a fragment of a story from the holy book
I can’t remember anything…. but
This is my favorite part
Something about our Lord and Savior who took bakers from their shops
He made them bake the bread, morning noon and night on mountain tops
And on the third day, He Himself, did the raising of the bread
When I’m in church I’m still confused.
The communion wafer disc of bread is flatter than lasagna
When I die I’m taking a loaf of bread with me to heaven
To learn about the mysteries of faith and nature
I’ll show the loaf to our Lord and Savior for an explanation
About what He said
About the raising of the bread
Father Christ lived on earth for about 33 years
Most holy life