Long Heritages Poems
Long Heritages Poems. Below are the most popular long Heritages by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Heritages poems by poem length and keyword.
The Church is one, holy, Catholic and apostolic
Find these words from the Creed, Professed at Sunday mass
4 marks indicate the essential features of the Church
Each mark viewed as a reality and a challenge
Church is one
Bond of love between Eternal Father and Eternal Son
Unites as one people of Eternal God
Church profess one Lord, one faith and one Baptism forms one body, the Church
Church is holy
In the Holy Trinity is the source of her holiness
It is holy from her founder, her saints and means of salvation
The Sacraments, 10 Commandments, charity and prayer presented as holiness of the Church
Church is Catholic
Catholic means universal
Have their own ecclesiastical disciplines, liturgical rites, theological and spiritual heritages
Dialogue is a form of evangelization
Church is Apostolic
Built upon the foundation of Apostles
The college is understood as the principle of their collegiality
Holy Spirit ensures she will not err in faith and morals
Form:
Would that we stamp these words
On foreheads, as soon as an infant slides
Through the open birth canal:
White privileged
Underprivileged
Poor
Rich
Thug
Fat
Terrorist
Hater
Lover
Etcetera etcetera
O how innocent, and pure
A sweet baby!
God has only labeled us:
Loved!
When the world is churning in cyclonic fashion,
When earthquakes threaten to tear us apart,
Can we grab each other’s hands, and pull
Them from the devilish hole?
Who are our friends? Even their silent voice,
Would raise an octave to kill
The prejudice and hate spewing
From all sides.
When we are blessed enough,
That God stretches us out,
To give us a family and friends -
From many rich heritages
And colors,
That we might feel!
I also hurt when you pinch me -
It leaves a horrendous bruise.
The world spreads
Its media butter on bread,
And tries to disengage our hands.
But my loved ones, my friends
I won’t let go, I love you so!
Cul du sac
Blood tears
Leaking
slowly
the empty face
emotions raped
red raindrops
fancy lollipops
empty glass
filling with sanguine color
drip
drip
drip
We are smiles
en chante
tous
les petits moulins rouges
tombe
casse
drink well from my veins
sleep in my tears
robbed of heart
faceless
fate has fermented
barrels of laughter
in the silent chamber
of broken dreams
Notes: Translations
Cul du sac = dead end
en chante = cheers
tous = all
Les petits moulins rouges = the little red windmills
tombe = to fall
casse = broken
Many have attempted bilingual art, music, song, film, and very few have had success, and yet for me, doing so is a bridge that joins the best of all cultures and heritages whichever they may be, so seeking less success, and more bridges to travel I carry on.
Christmas Tree, Menorah Meet-Up
A Christmas tree and a Menorah,woke one morning right next to
one another!
Both were shocked to be so placed, thinking this was such a total
disgrace!
Well, being immobile there was nothing either could do!
They each avoided looking at one another, in a stubborn stew!
Eventually they did, then a great friendship was launched and they
even developed a fondness for each other.
I heard them chatting and talking about their commonalities.
And even..how better this world could possibly be!
Someone lit them at sundown, and the lights of each..glowed.
With their loving brotherhood and whispers...shimmering on the
beauteous, silvered-falling snow.
They taught each other songs of their respective heritages.
Swapped stories of what their lights represented.
There was no chatter of who was wrong or who was right!
They were there to simply light the human spirit, tonight~
I, silently and helplessly, wept in utter delight!
Merry Christmas, Happy Hannukah
From:
Panagiota Romios
December 16, 2019
SENSE PLEASURE
Red honeyed apples
autumn leaves dewed
****** merge with sun streams
whilst children sleep dear dreams
Bobbing bubble baths
yogurt on hot chilli pie laughs
smell the sour dough
nourishment oh oh oh !
Blue moon paints front stoep
knobbly hand whispers stories
of heritages and future glories
skin ripples aptly rapt
Prancing clean laundry dance
mother’s milk in melting mouth
puppy grovels dirt digging south
sound frequencies simmer smoothly
Von Gogh sunflowers float in
mental notes skipping
Mozart phantom pianos airwaves
come dine alive then to jive
Pleasure finding the lost gazed
glance glimmer with God at no cost
Earth to Heaven find
THE JOYOUS JOURNEYED CONNECTION !
©GhairoDanielsPoetry&Song
2000
Liberty, equality, fraternity,
beautiful chimeras carved into the republican marble,
yet behind the motto, the Black Code,
the papal bull,
and the slave-trading betrayal as backbone.
Slavery, colonization,
xenophobia, negrophobia,
these are the legacies they disguise as civilizations.
Human zoos, colonial trading posts, the colonial pact,
the savage plunder wrapped in a tricolor flag.
In banana republics, tyranny is always under contract,
Françafrique and its neo-colonial military bases
feed African dictators at the service of the West.
Africa, the third world, whose misery has been planned for millennia,
this is how they name the cradle of humanity.
Under their blades, raw materials
become a procession of genocides,
and neo-colonial poaching devours heritages.
Assimilation, integration, alienation,
these three chains forged by the schools of the empire of Enlightenment.
But human dignity refuses to be sold,
the integrity and identity of courageous souls will never prostitute themselves.
Humanity and Africanity,
these two flames proclaim aloud
that the womb of oppressed peoples
shall never be reduced to the dust of servitude and submission.
I am a self-portrait
portraying myself & second self
though, I am just of one flesh
one mind and soul,
I've expressions
of two psyches, dualities
two distinctive women
of two heritages
Didymous are the
liking's of Castor & Pollux
deluxe in statuesque, in alabaster
we are spiritual twinship
thunder & lighting, two-fold
from left to right,
in Victorian elegance
a wedding gown
On the right of me,
in Tehuana frock, fabulosa
I arose from the overworld
one of Northern celestial
the other southernmost
we are twins separately
by surgical pincers, bleeding hearts
as crimson seeps onto white cotton
it stains with the past & present pains
we share one main artery
torn up, broken down
yet are countries apart
with hands clasped
together, we are Gemini
July 23 Scripture Meditations Based on Isaiah 49-52
Key Verse – Isaiah 49:8 Thus saith the LORD, In an acceptable time have I heard thee, and in a day of salvation have I helped thee: and I will preserve thee, and give thee for a covenant of the people, to establish the earth, to cause to inherit the desolate heritages.
MY GOD, THANK YOU FOR HELPING ME
Thank You for helping me in facing difficulties
By Your strengthening opportunities…
Please keep my faith’s steadfastness over human frailties
Here am I trusting You with all my functional faculties.
Thank You for helping me in overcoming hardships
By Your upholding fellowships…
Please inspire my heart’s devotion over worldly friendships
Here am I seeking You with all my ministerial relationships.
Thank You for helping me in facing discouragements
By Your exhorting testaments…
Please meet my need’s urgency over temporal allurements
Here am I abiding in You with all my heavenly investments.
Thank You for helping me in facing crises
By Your fortifying purposes…
Please guard my soul’s tenacity over sinful forces
Here am I depending on You with all my distresses.
Thank You for helping me in subduing struggles
By Your empowering might to soar as do the eagles…
Please pull my devotion’s commitment over lustful tangles
Here am I clinging to You with all my life-angles.
Thank You for helping me in dealing with my deficiencies
By Your satisfying mercies…
Please supply my limitation’s lack over attacking insufficiencies
Here am I learning from You with all my inconsistencies.
Thank You for helping me in fleeing from temptations
By Your guiding instructions…
Please lead my wisdom’s decisions over foolish suggestions
Here am I surrendering to You with all my imperfections.
July 23, 2022
Brecon Beacons
for pony-treks
Cumbrian fells
& bubbling becks
Dartmoor
with rocks rain scarred
Lake District views
beloved of bards
Northumbria on moor & hill
where Roman echoes linger still
Stone-bridged hamlets
in the Dales
with enclosed leas along its vales
Snowdonia one thousand yards high
reached by slow trains up to the sky
Pembroke with its distant trail so long
heritages for us to protect & prolong
National treasures to preserve & enjoy
by rich,the famous &hoi poloi.
Copyright © Brian Strand | Year Posted 2007
I.
I dreaded those days before they came
When I had to look at you laying down, weak as I stared at your frame
And many treasures that couldn't make you stand up
Glory is nothing to those gone, packed up
And I prayed you would make heaven upon your return
Thought nothing about the weight if I had to carry your bones to the promised land
Having no power to call you back as I listened to life's crude tones on command
I'll bring you back in grand style if God willed it so
Though all I've got is a little oil and five stones
II.
I'm not that king of ages
I'm not that old widow miraculously made rich
I depend on God like they did
A light reborn without doubts and dismay
I carry my cross, following Jesus
Without any more dallying, I win every course
Running to win against hoarse waves
I'm neither the wisest nor the best
Neither the bravest nor the greatest
I have nothing else to give but all it takes
No other show of faith and grace but my little oil and five stones
III.
I have a hope and a song for my times of trouble
I have a shoulder and a gong for my times of pain
I'm not that king of ages
I'm not that old widow with gained heritages
I'm not better than they all
But in the midst of dirges and storms of tears
My little oil will overflow
And by one from my stones, these giants are overthrown
I'll be made whole, transformed in God's tomorrow
Separated from tares the evils have sown
I'll be counted amongst the holy seeds, a godly breed
Bald as a rock with the Spirit of the ancient Word
And I'll still relish the peace bought by a blood stained sword