Best Ararat Poems
"Got any rivers you think are un crossable?
Got any mountains you cannot tunnel through?
God can do what no other power can do".
The lyrics to a song by John Wesley, a great revivalist
and accomplished song writer, speak to the practical SIDES
of our everyday LIVES and remind us that we are not ALONE.
Though at TIMES driven by stormy winds, and far we have ROAMED,
Our strong faith REMINDS us that we have not reached our HOME.
Figuratively, we all have crossed rivers once thought IMPOSSABLE
and tunneled through gigantic mountains once deemed UNTHINKABLE.
How many times have we completed missions and asked, "Did I do THAT?" Or what about the times you climbed mountains taller than Mount ARARAT?
Do you remember the time your job was OUTSOURCED to India, or 10 years ago when you went through a horrible DIVORCE? Although it hurt you to the CORE and left you bruised, SOUR, and SORE, you overcame all of that and MORE, because you were blessed with God's POWER which did for you, as Mr. Wesley said, 'what no other power could do'.
072520PSCtest, In Honor Of John Wesley, Kim Rodrigues
-- Just a bit of silliness --
"Baissez le rideau, la farce est jouee..."
---- Daumier
39 & 1/2 days had passed;
the rain had lessened.
Noah, grungy and grumpy,
paced the wet deck
like a caged Lion of Judah.
Reading the Odyssey by blubber-light,
Jonah, a free-thinker, cruised
in his whale below; he marveled,
captainishly, carefully pronouncing
the unfamiliar Greek, an uninvented
tongue he couldn't speak.
Ham, an adherent to all the dietary
restrictions, was relieved
at the journey's almost-close.
Consultation of the Holy Books
had proved he wasn't kosher
and, therefore, could not be served.
Still, Shem and Japhet eyed him oddly.
They had a lean and hungry look.
The wives, sensible lot,
cleaned the kennels, did the chores
and tried to keep an even keel
in the anachronistic mess.
They drifted onward,
tired of fishing fruitless waters,
doubtful now of being made
fishers of men.
All things considered, it was
a perfectly normal situation:
men were mystics
and women staid and sturdy workers.
And yet, Ararat, still beneath the waters,
may not have been the only futuristic
structure in this grey, flat
seascape.
I close my eyes, think of myself
as being there
to where
screams are free to roam,
then bounce back,
immune to tortured souls
allowed to spread in waves
For some reason,
Ararat comes to mind right now
but to be honest,
Arayat should suffice
surrender,
surrender...
Surrender
All these rocks-- can I disturb you?
Even just this once.
let me
let out
my sanctioned screaming,
and release it to these mountains.
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Athens, quite a place, so full of mythology
Buenos Aires, in Argentina, a place I'd love to see
Canberra, is just antipodean class
Dublin, a pint of Guinness in a glass
Edinburgh, the capital of the Scots
Freetown, a city, now violence is never sought
Georgetown, a place where Jim Jones left a scar
Helsinki, in its mountains, where reindeer herd so far
Islamabad, one of the greenest cities of the east
Jakarta, very close to where the Komodo's live and feast
Kuwait City, the start of Saddam's downfall
La Paz, is the capital, that looks down on them all
Monaco, where the rich and famous live
Nassau, with her golden beaches, where the breakers finally give
Oslo, in the land of skiing and fjords
Prague, with its architectural hoard
Quito, is the second highest in the world
Rome, to the lions, the Christians were hurled
Seoul, in the lands of the 38th parallel
Tripoli, where many an Anzac's fell
Ulaanbaatar, in a country full of steppes
Valletta, amidst the Mediterranean set
Warsaw, the ghetto's in World War II
Xi'an, its all i have to see this through
Yerevan, near the Biblical mountains, of Ararat
Zagreb, escaped being a Balkan War stat
Written 3/1/2010.
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/the-world.php
I'd love to visit Holland
To wear those wooden shoes
Or maybe, down in Memphis
I'd learn to sing the blues
If I could learn the language
I'd love to visit France
I've heard it said that Paris
Is the place to find romance
I'd love to see Old Faithful
In Yellowstone National Park
Or maybe, climb Mt Ararat
In search of Noah's Ark
Maybe, I'll visit Ireland
And catch a leprechaun
I'd rob him of his pot of gold
Before the crack of dawn
I'd like to sail the seven seas
Just like Columbus did
Or maybe, visit Egypt
And explore a pyramid
I'd climb the Himalayas
With a sherpa as my guide
I may not catch a yeti
But, at least, I'll know I tried
Maybe, I'll visit England
I might even see the Queen
One day, I'll tell my grandkids
Of all the sights I've seen
Even if I see these things
Like India, Greece or Rome
I'll always love the place I live
For there's still no place like home
A fat cat from Ararat
Ate too many mice and there she sat,
I have gorged myself I do confess,
My stomach is in great distress.
All I can do is sit and stare
As mice pass by without a care,
There's only so much one cat can do,
Perhaps the farmer might need two.
-more poems like this can be found at:
kidscomedypoetry.com.au
https://m.soundcloud.com/user-921599710/the-tower-of-babel
A tranquil land, when the Earth was but few
Refreshing renewal, beginning anew
Noah and sons, grew to remain
Multiplied nation, so it became
Mountain of Ararat, water subside
A move to the east, with fears aside
Families therein, travelled afar
A settled plain in the land of Shinar
Bold decision, people of prime
Building themselves, for such a time
A great high tower, apparent worth
Be not scattered over all the earth
Work commenced, building the city
Bricks and mortar, workers busy
Ever-ready, no time to stall
Unexpected to cease at all
Might endured, the time it took
A displeased father, there to look
Ever more sinful, none to repent
Ignoring the one who gave them strength
Labouring on, within their own plans
Worshipping the work of their own hands
A call from high, un-amused
Let their languages be confused
Written by Geraldine Taylor ©
Noah loaded all, two-by-two
Ending up with a floating zoo
For forty days and forty nights
They drifted on, viewing the sights
With much lightning and thunder
High mountains soon went under
The Lord knew exactly where it was at
The Ark landed right on Mt. Ararat
So Man began again with Noah
When the Rainbow said "Drown no moah!"
It was still two-by-two
Except, well, you-know-who
The hare pair, well, while there
Did what they do and made five pair
"Be fruitful and multiply", they did
And as soon as they debarked, they hid
I see a savior everywhere, I see
a prophet everyday, shining purple through the faces of
Teachers, Stockmen, Welders, Prostitutes.
Those halogens shine, pilot lights burning bright in
Cyan, Magenta, Hunter green and Mauve, stained-glass
saints made free from that flat and veined dimension.
Those are
Figurines,
translucent they bear before them brushes and
cisterns filled with lamb's blood, marking
the houses of the unlucky as they pass-
(they walk on hallowed ground not a place for me they walk with heads held high eyes up to
the sky contemplating visions I am not blessed enough to see)
Hushed voices in oaken pews speak
litany and mumble
Hymn, while doomed players act out the
stations of the cross within the
Lavish temple.
Ah!
see this rimmed with gold and platinum:
A chorus made for angles of war and angles of peace rides upon the
heavy air, gliding
upwards from the ladies choir.
I suspect that if Gabriel or Michael were to lend an ear and hear them, tears
would pour out from the heavens, covering the
world in a second flood, and
Once again, our
bastion of hope would land on Ararat, but
this time it would be a super-tanker.
Noah's Ark
floundered at Mount Arapiles
laboured through Horsham,
Stawell and Ararat
run aground at Mount Ararat.
I suppose since time immemorial - Dads have provided tutorial,
Doing their best to strive - To teach their kids how to drive.
Though Dads were never all that keen - Kids pestered him once a teen,
To drive the old family sedan - To get a license as soon as they can!
Noah no doubt taught son Ham - To steer the Ark for his driver's exam.
Even with practice in this and that - He managed to bump into Mount Ararat!
Roman lads were shown how to steer - By Papa the fearless charioteer.
How Papa cried, "Oh, mama mia!" - As son raced up and down the via!
When the horse and buggy became the rage - Junior was quick to engage,
Pa into showing him all the glitches - To avoid upsetting in the ditches!
Then along came the Model-T Ford - With all the latest gadgets aboard.
Son crowed that he could drive - He hit a sturdy oak - he's lucky to be alive!
Today with more stringent rules - Driver's education is offered in schools.
But to ensure they're taught the rudiments - And other basic elements,
Dads with tight jaws drive around town - Trying to get their kid to slow down,
Dads suffer through driving sessions - Trying to stifle their kid's agressions!
Pa looses lots of colorful speech - As Junior brakes to a smoking screech.
His head meets the windshield - Thinking his fate is surely sealed!
Dad tries to regain his composure - He's had enough of this exposure!
But he recalls with a grim smile - "As a kid neither was I all that versatile!"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
Placed No. 4 in Debbie Guzzi's "The Rhyme Inside" Contest - March 2011
You are cruel and stopped counting your treasons
You're respected Muslim nevertheless.
You don't need to give yourself a true reason
To pray, it's scheduled five times nonetheless.
You do not appreciate expensive wine
Although you drink yet you abstain from pork.
Minaret calls for prayer, its surface shines,
The mosque is atop. "Now left at this fork!"
Passing empty field, a small town, then uphill
Following neighbours and your dear loved ones.
The sight of an old cripple gives you a shrill,
His look is strict but begging you to come.
The view is of artsy brush of Monet, Claud,
Quiet murmur is prayer of imam.
In distance majestic Christian Ararat
Is hypnotizing. Now here it's Islam.
Story goes back a century, it's a while,
Thank God, the world remembers genocide.
Human's Id is nibble, double faced and vile,
Armenians hold their heads up with pride.
The Bible tells of many great men,
all who lived way back when.
Noah and his family built the Ark,
on Mount Ararat is where it would park.
(Genesis 8:4)
Abraham laid his son on an altar,
only to prove his faith wouldn’t falter.
(Genesis 22:6-12)
Moses parted the deep Red Sea,
so the slaves could go free.
(Exodus 14:16)
Joshua and his army marched around a big wall,
which around lap seven began to fall.
(Joshua 6:20)
David slew Giant Goliath with just one stone,
later to sit as a King on the throne.
(I Samuel 17:50)
Three Hebrew Children were ordered to bow and would not,
so were all thrown into a furnace so hot.
(Daniel 3:20)
Disobeying man’s law was Daniel’s only sin,
which landed him in the Lion’s den.
(Daniel 6:16)
There is always a price to be paid,
or a sacrifice to be made.
(Matthew 5:10)
These men are much the same,
for they all stood for Jesus’ name.
I am the Pharaoh
and you are my sparrow
piercing my heart
like the point of an arrow
good times, bad times
and the in between
all this for you
forever my queen
I ride the night train
like a vandal, restless
a certain night air
keeps me cool calm and collected
somewhat expressive
sometimes hard to find
a reason, to believe in
and keep me in line
For the tribulation
I receive little glory
thats not the moral
but the principal of the story
a foundation for tales
taller than mount Ararat
I carry my ghosts
no matter where I'm at
in life the up or the down
it all seems to be enough excitement
to keep me around
A pleasant smile flashes
keeps my heart warm
a question makes me fascist
like an unpredictable storm
I see what the math is
all adding to disaster
a controlled destruction
brings an end to this chapter
The famous mountain where Noah came to rest,
ending the ecliptic flood, building an altar for time as test.
Flourished kingdoms at the upper Tigris grew,
Babylonia and Urardhu created powers to sew.
Persian legends refers the holy Vulcan as the cradle of human race,
Armenians built a monastery in honor to St. Jacob’s pace.
Mount Ararat as omnipresent and utterly elusive,
snow capped peaks imaginative conclusive.
Magical countenance almost not of this earth,
crisp air in endless blue white mountain infinite birth.
Center of legends, myth and story,
the fire God Vahagn stumbles upon Ararat with all gory.
Giving life to Tigris and Euphrates River,
pagans visited ghost of royal ancestor in shiver.
Armenians and their homeland of Kurdistan under fire,
centuries in war for nationhood and holy place entire.
Good spirits in distillation known as Ararat Brandy,
Sir Winston Churchill called his favorite tipple, ‘handy’.
No Arc ever found beside many tries on Mount Ararat still today,
keeping mysteries in holy books still at bay.