Best Forerunner Poems
Hang the curtain from the clasps and place the ark of the covenant law behind the curtain. The curtain will separate the Holy Place from the Most Holy Place.
Exodus 26:33 NIV
The curtain of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom.And when the centurion, who stood there in front of Jesus, saw how he died, he said, “Surely this man was the Son of God!”
Mark 15:38-39 NIV
It was now about noon, and darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon,
for the sun stopped shining. And the curtain of the temple was torn in two.
Luke 23:44-45 NIV
At that moment the curtain of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom. The earth shook, the rocks split and the tombs broke open. The bodies of many holy people who had died were raised to life.
Matthew 27:51?-?52 NIV
Therefore, brothers and sisters, since we have confidence to enter the Most Holy Place by the blood of Jesus, by a new and living way opened for us through the curtain, that is, his body, and since we have a great priest over the house of God, let us draw near to God with a sincere heart and with the full assurance that faith brings, having our hearts sprinkled to cleanse us from a guilty conscience and having our bodies washed with pure water.
Hebrews 10:19?-?22 NIV
We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure. It enters the inner sanctuary behind the curtain, where our forerunner, Jesus, has entered on our behalf. He has become a high priest forever, in the order of Melchizedek.
Hebrews 6:19?-?20 NIV
Thank you Jesus for tearing the curtain
Which gave one a way to return to God
Oh how God let it be known
That Jesus was the one God sent
That we might receive your promise
Of the Holy Spirit within to teach
No longer killing animals not to satisfy
But through Jesus sacrifice
Birthed forth all pains of the world into
A new covenant with a lighted path
To bring the joy and peace of a newborn
To be nourished from the divine
Not of the foods which spoil
May God bless, comfort, guide and
Fill you with His peace, love, spirit and joy in abundance
Life is a continuous journey beset with troubles
So long we live in this universe,
Trouble becomes part and parcel of human experience
Life swings like a pendulum,
One moment swings towards favourable conditions;
That brings name,fame,gain,praises and merriment;
At another moment,unfavourable conditions curse,
Welcoming the loss,ill-fame,blame and pain
Panic no more!
Understand there are ways to clear sufferings,
None is hopelessly condemned to eternal misery,
Unless he himself allows it to be so.
Give away your realization to realise critically,
That all conditioned phenomenon like sufferings and troubles,
Arises not by the way of independent causes,
But it arises out of ones causes.
We can put an end to every form of sufferings,
It is by discovering the root causes of troubles
Do not disheartened by these futile miseries,
Instead act wisely in overcoming them,
No worldly-minded person are from suffering
There are no differences between wise and unwise,
But the manner in which he faces them differs.
Socrates, once faced his hot tempered wife's insults;
Defending her false accusation in a humorous way
Like Tagore prayed not to be shielded from dangers,
But to become fearless in facing it.
The great Buddha taught the world,
That sorrows are caused by our own actions,
And arise from our own ignorance.
Buddha showed how to remove sorrow,
But ourselves must work to gain happiness
Mind is the forerunner of all states
Mind is chief;mind-made are these states
Was what Buddha had preached to his followers.
Like prophet Muhammad accept faith as strength;
Adopting sorrow as a friend;
Using knowledge as a weapon;
And transforming patience as Garb and Virtue
Then the troubles will soon pass;
What had caused you to burst in tears today,
Will be forgotten tomorrow curving smiles on your face.
Do not let the past spoil your present happiness,
Whatever our troubles,however pressing they maybe,
Time will heal our wounds,
But besides leaving things to time,
It is ourselves to protect from hurting.
Maintain the peace in our mind
Don't allow people or troubles to drain energy away,
Since it is ourselves who creates our happiness not others.
ODE TO A NEVER RECEDING ECHO
For Onyebuchi
Day and night in an eternal combat.
A truce : the eternal cycle of night and light
Lost in the ruse of an eclipse.
Where is the truce in the ruse of going and coming?
You found yours swinging on that threshold,
Where udara tree dances to the choirs of the wind.
Then you bend to itch the scratch.
The debt of birth repaid too soon.
Where lion wimp and head dancer limp!
Crippled Aligo!!!
Have you journeyed through the chart on your palm ?
After a drunken sip of prerian spring.
Soured tryst with Sophia.
Cherubim through the umbilical returns
To the progenitor?not conceived! Unborn!!
Halo on rusty hair sits.
Or was it your iyiuwa. Unburnt
Pleat, unpleat then pleat…
Under the star-apple tree,
Where all roads meet
Do not live on the threshold
Stay with me, ignore the whispers of these shadows
Itching your feathered cap.
You have sucked through this nipple time dry
Leave her, now flaccid, bosom. see she shrieks.
Head of the Baptist shrieks
Superfluous gift for many half Christs,
Too proud for Baptism.
I wonder why?
A pine piercing the sun
Withers at the descent of a dozen, score moon.
Eleodimmuo it is you I am calling.
You, eternity lost in time.
A dance to a never receding echo
If now is dusk, I hope the echo stays
At least,for me, a pedagogic star.
While the magi?me, beside the manger wait
For the birth of light.
While owl hoots dove’s lullaby;
Vulture hatching in eagle’s nest.
You are my Ogbanje, my forerunner
Even if the lips of days hums dirge as they pass
Now, Soldier ant from the udara returns. again.
Matching, invading my tryst, feasting on a depleted layer.
Futile to chase; deliberate in pace
Need I learn this tune?if it never rest?
Fallowed stream bites as dreams cradle me.
The black thing chants Ogbanje, Ogbanje and I sign
At this never receding echo.
In memory of Onyebuchi
If you in dancing to, faults, my beat. see a fore admission of a mortal's fallibility
Uraoma Nwannem
© Chikwado Nwattah . 2014
Far in a distant land, the heart of a nation is broken. Her daughters fight each other over her possessions, her name has been decorated with corruption and injustice and her cry remains unheard by her neighbors. She was once a luxury, decorated in gold and the sparkles of diamonds till greed bought his way to her land. Love builds, but greed bears the shears that split love like the tongue of a serpent. How she wishes she had baptized her children in the ever flowing waters of love than gathering wealth; but her destiny looks inevitable now.
What did you learn ye neighbors? Were you not witnesses to her plight? Yet you wrap yourselves in the bed of lies and deceit whiles your children stay divided fighting themselves over power. Your future looks worse than your doomed neighbor I say to you; for in power, they will be poisoned by greed, and greed is the forerunner to your doom; for when love is banished, evil reigns.
Listen to the words of wisdom today ye doomed ones, so you may reverse the curse you placed on yourselves. Unite your children even in your slumber; in their unity you’ll discover the cure to your pain. Seek love first, even in your hardship; for when love finds comfort on your throne, evil will seek refuge even in your wrongs. Marry truth and stop fornicating with deceit; for though truth is strict in his ways, his ways will mend the division amongst your children. I will pray for you, I will pray for your children and pray that love never departs you.
Read more poems and short stories by The Writer, ezer agyin, here http://ezeragyin.wix.com/the-writer
The young generation, who believe in dissolution,
promulgating the manifesto
“tradition is the grave of the banality,
only solecism is the quickening of new life…”
yell upholding a flag similar to a bad check
which is unable to secure the needed guarantee for the debt.
They are sycophantic speculators hopping on the bandwagon
of the time, they are nothing but a product of a certain moment
of the swinging pendulum, their unfounded thought changes in consonance with the direction and the amplitude of the pendulum.
Although they think highly of themselves,
they assert themselves as the forerunner of the times,
actually, they are unbridled reckless colts jumping, hopping,
and running blindly in the wilderness.
They consider heteronomy as a shackle,
they, therefore, rush to a smithy and heat the shackles to cut it off,
they insist upon autonomy as the beat of the heart,
they, therefore, lay on the cold operating table to cut it open
to see the inside of the heart bearing an excruciating pain
but they found it full of red and blue blood
clotted in two atrium and two ventricles, the blood
contaminated with filthy and turbid human minds
which carried on from generations of generations
of past unchanged.
They try to ascend their thoughts, nonetheless,
above the traditional ones, it’s nothing more than
a word game, a disgusting prank.
Are they mad? Though they cannot even jump
nor have wings, they try to fly,
ah, poor generation, ill, crooked, lost,
who were not even touched by a drop of Medusa’s
poisonous blood, flap wings imitating Pegasus about to fly.
Doug Wilson….
True Story….NEW YEARS EVE 2012
5 or 6 thugs suckin on dere ciggy drugs,
attacked a paper delivery man,
they robbed him of his mobile phone,
the pack animals weren’t worth their scran, (tucker)
no brains in the head, just bone,
Cecily looked and saw, at her front door,
The blue, and the loud commotion,
Rang the Cops, so did others, sure!!!
local Men hid, cowed down the more,
Seems sharks were in the ocean?
Cecily tried to ring ole Doug to bring,
Some help, cos the Police weren’t coming,
An hour passed, was death now cast,
Police were 5 minutes away,
but they were busy humming n harring,
Discussing plans of the flogged and damned,
Yet coming, coming, coming,
Doug appeared in his uniform gear,
Forerunner, flew amongst them,
The thugs n bugs fell back in fear,
Doug saved the paper man,
give a cheer,
The cowards off and running,
Paper man and Doug gave chase,
And drove into the park,
Cornered men, aggressive then,
Doug faced them down, ha ha,
The mobile phone it was found,
where the thugs had surely dropped it,
threats did vent,
but Doug was the gent,
seeing em off, too right!!!
Police woman did appear,
Near the park oh dear,
Doug then threw up his arms,
She drove over the top,
Of broke bottle, flop,
Ignoring warnings, harms?
The fat ladies delight…
Tyre from air, was outa sight,
Ignorance can alarm,
It might?
My psalm orright. Don Johnson
HAPPENED NEW YEARS EVE 2012
Doug is my brother in law...
I
Some poems write themselves
Maureen McGreavey excels in pithy poetry
So I do not love writing them, sometimes
II
When the Holy Spirit showed me a contrast
Luke 1, a priest prayed for a son (Elizabeth & Zechariah)
When Gabriel brought the good news, he doubted:
"How can this be true. I am old; my wife advanced in age.")
Zechariah was punished, but Mary was rewarded her asking:
"How can this be, I have not known a man?" Truth: innocence!
Zechariah was shut up for 9 months, until he said, "John!"
The name of the son Elizabeth bore, the forerunner of cousin Jesus -
Mary's faith stood not on education, nor upon reading ...
When Gabriel said, "The Spirit will overcome you as you bring
Forth the Hope of Israel: His name is 'YESHUA: God our Salvation!'" -
It stood on simple faith; faith comes by hearing (His Name) Amen
III
We have this treasure in earthen vessles, or jars of clay ...
This treasure, saints, THIS TREASURE, the Spirit of God
The Holy Spirit in each believer; Spirit of God's Holiness
Which is the power displayed in the Resurrection
That is why I have optimism about you, Syria, Iran, that nation ...
Because God makes no rejects, only Masterpieces
Who knew? A girl of Nazareth, a peasant, would be "THEOTOKOS"
- The One who carried God in the Womb - staggering ...
No wonder my India once worshipped through the linga-yoni
The Shiva stone representation of reproductivity
To show the fecundity, provision, multiplicity, through God
That power hidden inside the saints as Spirit: to obey
Dare to be a Mary, beyond the issue of gender, womb & phallus
Dare to be a Mary, birth the CHRIST child in you, with Spirit's aid:
After all, we are to be "Little Christs" in an otherwise dark world
IV
When I see the devotion to honor mothers and daughters
That no one (reading) is dead ... yet! I thank my mom, women in my lineage
"What is impossible with men, is possible with God,"
So said Gabriel, the Archangel in Luke chapter 1. Nativity!
tens of thousands years ago
(a figurative out in left field ball park figure)
*****Sapiens (or the forebears of said species),
deliberately sought sensate satisfaction
with deliberate zeal
shucking clothes
(perhaps just an animal pelt hiding pubes)
answering (on a private line),
the call of the wild,
not yet verboten feral common weal
way before the identification of venereal
disease (though most likely
germinal forerunner), yet to rank
as demise forecasting deterministic,
fetishistic, hedonistic inviting
Gonorrhea, Herpes, Syphilis, et cetera to an unveil
ling, then (of course) average life span
of primate predecessors brief, nasty, and short,
thus demise from sexually transmitted disease
unlikely the cause of death,
nor spelled catastrophe that would seal
the fate of mankind unlike the here and now,
when the Apocalypse Israel
aside from conflagration
decimating Rohingya's, Uighur's, Yazidi's,
countless other minority populations
severe distress they feel
plus Middle Eastern countries got a raw deal
subjected to their own variety of slaughter,
which genocide ranks as Syria us injustice
calling for immediate appeals,
injunctions, sanctions humanitarian appeal
against inhumane abominations,
terrorization, violations
rather than passively witness
innocent lives being trumped.
Saint John of Rila
Father John –
I have no bread
(short is the bread daily)
And the Lestvitsa* -
so long …
Longer than a thought
and shorter than a peal
of a bell.
I’m ashamed, Father,
that today I am speaking
but not staying quiet like
a germ,
like a drop of a candle.
The heart holds me up.
*[‘lestvitsa] stairway to spiritual life
Saint John of Rila (Bulgarian: ????? ???? ??????, sveti Ivan Rilski) (876 – c. 946) was
the first Bulgarian hermit.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_of_Rila
January 7 — The Synaxis of St. John the Forerunner. This is his main feast day, immediately after Theophany on January 6 (January 7 also commemorates the transfer of the relic of the right hand of John the Baptist from Antioch to Constantinople in 956)
This is like a red moon.
This is like a total eclipse.
The sun becomes black.
SIX MONTHS OF DARKNESS
The gloom occurred during noon unexpectedly.
The media states the world is in Armageddon.
This has been formed from the unknown God.
The world becomes tense.
A universe is in darkness.
It does not affect utilities until the darkness coagulates.
Mania displays on faces.
Children sit quietly.
Crime is on the streets.
The police sirens are heard from a distance.
Looting for no reason because the natural disaster is darkness.
No homes are lost.
No souls are at stake.
The cities and towns are not evacuated.
However, weather is onset.
The stars shine.
The moon they surround.
Time is of the utmost importance.
Foremost, is the day is not in appearance.
The weather person does not know what to tell.
The media is the forerunner of what has occurred everywhere.
Life moves on.
________________|
Penned April 21, 2014
For Dr. Ram Mehta Contest Darkness At Noon
mine myopic eyes and ears
sensually and auditorially seduced
analogous to a melodic aire
this quick rhythmic stuttering transposes
gentle natural orchestral autumnal suite
upon limbs gone bare
respectively via constant flow,
a steady thin vail sans vertical crystal clear
beaded pearls (strung together
like glittering jewels) of water
commingling upon terrestrial firmae
liquid readying diverse flora and fauna for winter solstice,
whose deoxyribonucleicacid hibernation genetically coded
multitudinous genus and species of oraganisms
drinking requisite moisture
inducing sleepiness sans flora and fauna musical lullaby,
simultaneously affecting this petsmart human whose ear
(actually both left and right) play significant role to hear
the pitter patter from the slate gray sheltering sky (gone dark)
where the soothing sound linkedin
to Neanderthal Man, hood didst hark
kin to the occasions
when oblate spheroid (and perchance on a lark
proto primate lived here in what became known
as Schwenksville, Pennsylvania, 19473)
encompassing open space and a small park
within Highland Manor Apartments
low slung brick complex thousands of years ago
this land t'was stark
flush with much more innumerable plants and animals
experienced an untrammeled wilderness
even then coveted moisture fallin from sky
as the meterological machine did wark
possibly operated by forerunner to the aardvark
paws sing to relish the fresh
untainted heavenly spring
delivering delicious tasting (maybe like kool aid),
where pools spring beckoning flying organims
on a prayer and wing
to parry and dart with speed most a may zing.
Civilizations used white to mitigate the lack of black.
Black is not just skin color but also a human spirit.
Imagine indigenous people having red skin plaque!!
While things seem disastrous, it is just painted on it.
Civility will be total only If all races are treated fairly.
Thus, do not squander your life if time runs limited.
Not the same as 1960s; CRT has no sign of diversity.
CRT prep does not contain a notion of finitude.
Light exposes everything in some way or another.
The sight of a wacky mind is preferred above others.
Superior words develop at the moment they recover.
There is no compelling reason to blame our ancestors.
Nature will piddle it happen if she so discovers.
Life develops for its own durability.
Shaded Earths mutate regularly.
To preserve impartiality, we should be blind.
For exploring, notice the hues of parental rind.
Our fragility leads to family growth progeny.
It is plausible to identify prominence.
When do we have complete awareness?
People are forced to crack without food. ?
Without the deemed necessary mood.
CRT is a crucial forerunner of our world's drooping.
And we're all equal; all have the endowment to evolving.
The modern age is replete with hate; thus, let's end it.
Let's not fail to renew forgiveness to the world's past.
Written: June 20, 2021
Critical Race Theory Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Anthony Biaanco
My window is like a microcosm
Of the great big world out there
Always changing, always in flux
Autumn is in the air
A forerunner of that nasty season
With it's cold and icy winds
Must endure another cruel winter
Icicles dangling from my chin
Would I move to a warmer climate
Should the opportunity arise?
You can bet your sweet bippy I would
In a heartbeat, look into my eyes
Does it look like I'm trying to jazz you
Even reserving a great big kiss
For a P-Soup friend who'll take me in
But it's gotta be warmer than this
I will consider all generous offers
The decision of this judge will be final
Prefer a winner from the opposite sex
Otherwise my offer's unconditional
My window is like a microcosm
Of the great big world out there
Almost forgot to mention the bonus
I've got long flowing flaxen hair!
© Jack Ellison 2012
Her woes weren't on her life in siege
But the forerunner of fate's besiege
Her guts sensed an unknown chill
As faceless men stalked her in dark.
Speaking truth, half of men turn foes
Other half silent in fright of a regime,
A force that divide men by their faith
To rule forever with evil staff of hate.
She spoke of castes that suppressed
She spoke against blind belief of mass
She spoke of slavery from blind Faith
She spoke against the power corrupt.
She wrote of suffering brought by men
Her strength in free thinkers fast grew
Nightmare of a regime if people think
Evil designs spread in the market of hate.
Mom for many, courageous and clam
Never wavered before truth and facts
Spoke with clear concepts and concern
She knew her enemies, but went on.
She wanted this world a better place
She yearned men to equally prosper
She wanted poor free their shackles
Of slavery of mind of conniving men.
They schemed a plan for her exit
Men with guns were sent stalking
Shots were fired on a fragile frame
She fell dead before her own house
They cheered her death for a fees
They started build narratives in hate
The powerful struck a name in a list
A list of people soon going to die.
(Gauri Lankesh (1962 – 2017) was an Indian journalist-turned-activist from Bangalore, Karnataka. She was shot to death by assailants outside her home on 5 September 2017. At the time of her death, Gauri was known for being a critic of right-wing Hindu extremism.....Wikipedia )
elemental
milestones,
contemporary
reminders
quirky distinctions
colloquial
watchwords
mundane
delinations
grandiose
celebrations
of a
down to earth
reality..
precursor
and
forerunner
to the final
overview