How near doth Time now stand upon the verge!
Upon our days is fallen Judgment's shade.
One woe grows still, then doth another surge,
And close behind, a third comes undelayed.
Then bitter cold shall strike, and famine loom,
Our hopes shall pass beyond the shrouded bier;
The city that we cherished, once so dear,
By Heaven's will, and war, shall meet its doom.
Believe not, people, that peace shall ever reign,
For Time already gazes into naught;
No end at all thereto shall e'er be brought—
The war returned, forever to remain.
The stature of the oak tree
Measures holiest if judged
By natural proximity to sky
But will never reach heaven
And thus by ego of man,
That which extends beyond
But not upon highest
Must be leveled to uplift mankind
Axe to trunk yields the great length
The most capital for human venture
To build the path he may climb
Faith in founded access to sky at last
What we know of uplifting oak
Begs us to recall the sequence
That while man constructs the stair
Too is oak in which he will be buried
For the sacrifice of dear oak
Who was exalted in godly breath, light
Promises that thou who dare tear down
May be buried low, below root, below feet
And when river rise, when mankind pride
In terrain built higher still
It is man who shall sink deeper
As oak, most faithful, did not defy own nature.
Someday God will call you, you will be in the court of God, presenting your life story, the good the bad, the what if and what you did.
Someday God, may call you, to walk by his words and his ways, making all the others look with amazement.
Someday God may shine his mercy, his love, his anger, his might toward you, making you unable to hide from his light and sight.
Someday God, may end our story, give up on us for all of our sin has mounted so high that there is no end.
Lifting prayers to God, today and always.
Tie-Dye in July
Everyone has different colors inside them,
and they express them differently.
Personally, mine would be:
Red for love,
Blue for sadness,
Yellow for happiness,
Purple for dreams,
Black for pain,
Green for growth.
See, when people only see the outside,
they create theories and make a whole story
and start judging other people by their color—
not only their color,
but the story they create about who they are.
Sometimes I just wish people would get to really know a person,
so much that everyone’s colors could combine
and make a big rainbow,
so that we could all put our differences together
and make something beautiful.
Even the people judging have colors inside.
Everyone has different colors,
and they express them differently.
Don’t Judge the Cover of My Book
Females
If I gain a little weight, I am too much or fat.
If I get too skinny, I am not enough.
If I wear makeup, you say, “Be natural.”
If I stay natural, you say, “Ugly.”
No matter what I do is wrong to someone.
Men
If I show emotions, I’m soft.
If I’m just nice, I’m trying too hard.
If I don’t, I’m dirty.
If I talk a lot, I’m annoying.
If I stay quiet, I’m weird.
If I focus on school, I’m boring.
If I don’t, I’m dumb.
If I trust people, I get played.
If I don’t, I’m hard to deal with.
No matter what I do is wrong to someone.
Society
The internet rules, judging us humans by the cover of our books,
but are not reading the chapters inside.
I mean, why?
Why do we judge our people by race,
our hair or face,
how we act
and how we don’t act?
You’re over here wondering why I can’t be myself,
because if I act like you, I am cool,
but if I act like me, I am weird.
If beauty is the reason we love, then tell me
How do the blind fall in love?
What value is fair skin when the heart knows no kindness?
If mirrors reveal who we are, why do they never show our fears, our courage, our grace?
If black skin we question a lot, tell me what do you think about Black Panther?
If chubbiness is the reason for rejection, the tell me why you find elephants endearing?
If white is the colour of beauty,
Why is the birthplace of love, the heart, red in every body?
If face is what makes us stay, Why do we miss the dead?
I call them fool when they see beauty from their weak eyes,
I call them wise when they seek goodness in the soul,
I call a palace, a stone when no love makes it whole,
I call them blind, when they praise butterflies and shoo cockroches,
I call them racist, when they call white, pretty,
I call them patients, when they obese others,
I call them mad, when they joke about disabilities.
I call them human, Because we all judge too quickly.
Yesterday…
As a cherubic child,
do you have grand dreams, Pete,
of becoming, when older (but not wiser),
famous world-over (as a war criminal)?
Today…
“No quarter, no mercy,” you say.
“Punching them while they’re down,
as it should be” and with
“no stupid rules of engagement.”
To “provide quarter” ensures safety
of all combatants who surrender,
who lay down their arms,
with their hands in the air.
“No quarter” means to take no prisoners,
to execute on the spot all those vanquished,
without mercy, without justice, without due process
(like blowing-up Venezuelan boats),
a war crime by Geneva Conventions,
and war crimes got Nazis hung decades ago.
Yet now you brag about committing war crimes
while promoting reckless, endless war?
Tomorrow…
Years to come, on Judgment Day,
the cosmic Courtroom is full
of the formerly famous mighty
as well as those “following orders.”
Please take your seat, Pete,
next to jealous Nazis.
I wanna
I wanna ride a bike
It's my spike
It's in the night
Just like a knight
Speed must be over
My engine roar must hover
Rain must there
Windy shouldn't care
I wanna loud
Want to reach cloud
Just wanna shout
When everyone's voice is out
I am a girl , my hairs are wavy
This is the dream of mine , it's not something crazy
I want to roar
Isoar
I wanna be free
I am hell tired of being a tree
I am simple, having a pimple
Let the world rest ,I am done with test
Lets one night come
When I would be out
Rain will be there
Wind shouldn't care
Speed must be over
My engine should roar
Its my spike
I wanna ride bike
Poet :Bhoomi Bhardwaj
The Bells Ring Aloud in Hell
The tolling of the bells in hell
Rang out for common folk.
There was a heavy price to pay
For every word they spoke.
They barked commands at the Gatekeeper
Until he turned his head;
They never knew that all their lives
By shadows they were led.
They didn’t know how to obey,
To humble or behave.
They played at being kings and queens
While walking to the grave.
With hearts devoid of empathy,
They reached the final swell
And there they’ll stay, beneath the gate,
The hollow toll of hell.
The day has came And it brings great pain,
All of the Gods are looking down on us in shame,
We should have repented in Jesus's name,
Turned from our sins and made a change,
They are getting tired of hearing us complain,
Taking their love for granted....
Maybe we are insane.
We keep begging for mercy but refuse to change our mistakes.
The Gods are coming back they have to save the day,
But don't worry There is a Book Of Faith,
You better hope your name is written for you to be saved,
You will not have to see all the horror and pain on the day God allows Zeus to strike us with his flames,
Nothing but ashes and faded memories remain,
Then we meet up with God to get our final fate ,
The time is coming for Judgment Day.
You were evil while in this life, you spread hate and caused others to follow your path of hate.
You took the stand and put your hand on the bible and lied, you smiled and lied.
You looked on the outside as good, but you were evil, you caused others to cry.
You caused the young to follow your evil ways, leaving a legacy of hate for others to copy and multiply.
You had no empathy, you had no truth, you only spread lies and hate.
You know exactly what you did, you now have been taken from this life, and I feel no sorrow only relief.
I am told I must forgive, but I wonder if God forgives all the evil ones, and how that turned out for them.
You are gone, taken somewhat young, I can only imagine your fate in God’s hands now.
Lifting prayers to God, today and always.
God's court has many in line, some want to proceed and live like fine wine.
God's court has many cases, some are waiting and waiting for judgment to pass.
God's court is a place where we find out how we did in life.
God's court is a place that has many looking at us and our life.
God's court will give us notice on our good and bad we accomplished in life.
We are tested each day in this life, adding a page to our life, good and bad.
We are also tempted with so much stuff, like money and love and all the stuff that we want.
In the end, when our earthly body dies, we go to God's court to have our life analyzed.
So, pray and forgive, try our best to be good.
Lifting prayers to God, today and always.
Captive Soul
A mask of smile, a fortress lie
A cage existence when question lie
A fragile whisper, a silent plea
To break free wild and truly be
Fears of shadows dark and deep
Where secret lie in slumber keep
Bars of judgement, confine my flight
Shadows of doubt, eclipse the light
Feathers ruffled longing to soar
A captive sport forever more
A bird yearning to break free
A silent prisoner just to be
A whisper echoes, soft and low
Awaiting courage, yet to grow
Until the day, I break the chain
And soar on current without pain
A quiet soul, a gentle hum,
Not beating on a boastful drum,
The ego's whispers overcome,
Judgment wisely held, fingers numb,
Just simple words, on lips outrun,
Understanding sought, all work done,
Mistakes are faced, not forgotten,
The rightful path, so finely spun,
With open heart, all are welcome
Sharing kindness before one`s numb,
A field of grace for everyone,
Imparts his glow, beneath the sun.
A death I have carried since youth—
not the grave’s hush,
but the slow unfastening
of all that was false in me.
Each dawn, a small surrender:
the tongue bridled,
the anger banked,
the shadowed thought laid bare
before the Father of Lights.
I have walked with this inward dying
as one walks beside a stern companion,
learning its counsel—
that faith without its burial
is faith without breath.
For the world woos with crowns
that fade like grass in scorching wind,
but the soul grows only
where it lets go.
So I have lived with death
as with a discipline—
its quiet blade
paring away the double mind,
till what remains can stand upright
and call itself whole.
If this, then, was my long death,
blessed be the One
who taught me to lose myself,
that I might finally live.
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