Long Socialgod Poems
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Civility and Man: A Historical View
Since man began to populate the earth,
And feel the pull of Satan’s evil ways.
The angels came to teach the fallen souls:
Proposing righteous ways to live earth days.
Decorum had been taught both then and now.
Man, Adam and his wife with death had played.
The badly chosen fruit waylaid their plight.
Enlightened, but from loving God they strayed.
Significance and consequence brought death.
The mortal two began to populate.
So rules of etiquette began to grow.
And man’s new fate embraced their mortal state.
Before too long, grave envy showed its face.
And Cain did not obey the rules, as taught.
He chose a rock and struck his brother dead.
Civility was not wrought in that rock.
When Moses led his people through the sands.
And Father carved some rules upon a stone.
Uncivilized, they bickered, played, and sinned.
Respect for God and His great words had flown.
When Socrates and Plato came around,
Civility…philosophy was deep.
The Ten Commandments were the reigning rules.
And politics gave zealousness a hold.
George Washington and others wrote some rules.
These rules were social rules, not civil laws.
Civility back then meant manner’s guide.
Respecting one another, yielding self.
The hundred plus ten rules, then set in place.
Fell prey to proper conduct’s judging ways.
And judgment for their lacking could be cruel.
If down the nose one’s self-worth found a sneer.
Dear Harry Truman taught a civil dream.
Of unity within the scope of men,
Together working for the greater good.
All brothers hand in hand respecting each.
The world today is filled with hatred’s fray.
Mankind now turns away from loving ways.
The common man believes all shall be well.
Surprise! Civility is on the road to hell.
Good actions are respecters of all men.
With energy beget not violent ways.
Or great travail shall overcome mankind.
Civility to me, most surely means:
Loving one another, there and at home.
Willfully revising loveless thinking.
Rebuking darkness with the light of love.
Unity and freedom…let us ring.
United wisdom drinking of love’s well,
No longer greeting slaughter of lost hope.
But civilly, rethinking plights of man.
© Name withheld for the contest
March 21, 2010
Poetic form: Free Verse
PLEASE PRAY FOR THE WORLD AND FORWARD THIS AS INSPIRED.
A woman digs
inside the trash to
find some food to
eat, it's obvious her
day to day is lived
amongst the streets,
her clothes are
nothing more than
tattered rags; I truly
see, that people
point and stare at
her, she could be
you or me.
Imagine if you lost
your job and bills
aint gettin paid,
dynamics of this life
do change when
scrill aint gettin
made,
the hole can be so
deep for some to
not care much at
all, they'd kneel in
urine puddles in the
stairway up the hall.
To feed the need for
capital they'd play
with bat and balls, a
person's pride sinks
lower from the
higher that they fall,
and on the way to
impact they may
bounce and smack
a wall, this country
has a safety net but
still can't catch em
all.
It could be you or
me asleep and
snoring by the train,
with body dripping
water from that
pouring kind of rain,
the race and gender
differs, the results
are all the same,
that's living; life's a
gamble, win or lose
it's all a game.
Degrees that
separate us aren't
high like summer
heat, they're more
like dead of winter
snow, the sidewalk
underneath,
time differs though
in essence it
depends on who
you meet, some
folk take years to
lose it all, for
others, just 2
weeks.
We all should count
our blessings
though it's hard to
do with strife, it
always could be
worse, no food to
eat or shining light,
your bedroom
suddenly becomes
an alleyway at
night, your table's
now a garbage can
of sustanant delight,
and God forbid
there're children out
here living off the
land, you know the
mental strain is
tough when living
hand to hand,
or hand to mouth,
it's all about how
quick things turn
around, the damage
3rd degree if life
decides to burn you
down.
A woman digs in
trash and finds an
imitation stole, she
cares not what it's
made of during
winter days of cold,
her faith in God so
solid that she'll
bravely see it
through, before you
laugh at her just
think, that could be
me or you.
Another soul has been set free
Trying to be all it can be
Which in reality isn't much
Another cripple on a broken crutch
Slowly trying to make his way
Through the trials of another day
Through my pen energy is spent
As I try to circumvent
I search for ways to relate
I was once so full of hate
I hated God for taking my mother
The fact I was the forgotten brother
I hated the poverty I grew up in
Then I truly learned of hatred in the pen
I rose to the top of the hatred pool
Took pride in being a home-boy fool
Just as a mother pulls her baby to her breast
I blasted my hatred all over my chest
I took love and hate placed them on a scale
I weighed out heaven and weighed out hell
I suddenly became overwhelmed with shame
As I realized that I had gone insane
For it became clear as clear could be
The only thing I truly hated was me
The last time I walked out the prison gate
I stopped and shook off all my hate
Praise God and the power from above
My heart and soul were filled with love
I came home and started to rebuild my life
Was taught how to love by my loving wife
I learned to love my neighbors regardless of creed
Offer my assistance to anyone in need
If your battling hatred heed what I say
It's a hell of a price for a soul to pay
Take your hatred and go to the mirror
Ask of the Lord, "Help me see clearer"
For hatred is just like any other sin
It's not external it's born with - in
You will discover a joy like no other
As you learn to love yourself then your brother
Another soul has been set free
I'm trying to be all I can be
Which in reality isn't much
Another cripple on a broken crutch
This poem is dedicated to Milton Hemsted who
carried himself in such a way that in the most racial
of environments I found myself with no choice but
to love and respect that man. He broke down my racial
barriers and taught me to love my Lord, myself and my
neighbor. I hope someday we will get to meet again
as free men. Love & respects Milton.
I apologize if I have offended anyone and for the
man I once was. God bless
A woman digs inside the trash to find some food to
eat, it's obvious her day to day is lived amongst the
streets,
her clothes are nothing more than tattered rags; I
truly see, that people point and stare at her, she
could be you or me.
Imagine if you lost your job and bills aint gettin paid,
dynamics of this life do change when scrill aint gettin
made,
the hole can be so deep for some to not care much
at all, they'd kneel in urine puddles in the stairway up
the hall.
To feed the need for capital they'd play with bat and
balls, a person's pride sinks lower from the higher
that they fall,
and on the way to impact they may bounce and
smack a wall, this country has a safety net but still
can't catch em all.
It could be you or me asleep and snoring by the
train, with body dripping water from that pouring kind
of rain,
the race and gender differs, the results are all the
same, that's living; life's a gamble, win or lose it's all
a game.
Degrees that separate us aren't high like summer
heat, they're more like dead of winter snow, the
sidewalk underneath,
time differs though in essence it depends on who
you meet, some folk take years to lose it all, for
others, just 2 weeks.
We all should count our blessings though it's hard to
do with strife, it always could be worse, no food to
eat or shining light,
your bedroom suddenly becomes an alleyway at
night, your table's now a garbage can of sustanant
delight,
and God forbid there're children out here living off the
land, you know the mental strain is tough when living
hand to hand,
or hand to mouth, it's all about how quick things turn
around, the damage 3rd degree if life decides to
burn you down.
A woman digs in trash and finds an imitation stole,
she cares not what it's made of during winter days of
cold,
her faith in God so solid that she'll bravely see it
through, before you laugh at her just think, that could
be me or you.
‘ We and They Saw … ’
(or) A Testament To A Holy-Helper
My Beloved, God … Most High
Creator Of Celestial, Heavenly Skies
And The Earth and Wind-Blown Seas
And All That Lives and Moves and Breathes
and Every Magnitude Thereof …
Bless You and Your Son , Because:
That Day, I Saw Your Hand, God … ------ Ps. 109: 27 , 28
That Night, I Saw Your Might
‘ You ’ Moved Everything In Motion
And Brought It To The Light
‘ You ‘ Wanted Them To Know
‘ You ‘ Made Sure They Saw
and when ‘Caught’, They Know … ‘ I Knew ’
when ‘ You ‘ Cracked Them, On Their Jaw …
… So Wide-Opened, Gasping Like A Fish
‘ I ‘ Heard Their Misery, Intense
They Fumed in Rage and Ignorance
‘Cause My God, Fought For Me ! “I'm Convinced” …
I Tried To Warn Them, Holy Father
Tried To Help Set Them Free
But, They ‘ Kept (and Keep) On ’ Acting Evil
… They Know What and Who They Be !
… Playing Name-Games … Should Be Ashamed !
of Their Jealousy … and Trying To Mess With Me
Their Deceit, will be Their Defeat
in Their Lies and yeah,‘ I Heard ’ Their Cries !
… and Their Own Sick-Stupidity
May Set ‘em 666 Feet-Down-Rigidity …
And All … This Was Uncalled For !
‘ Lord ’ Knows, I Don’t Bring Harm … No More !
But, ‘ You ’ Are The Judge, Holy One
Yes … ‘ You ’ Are: Final Say and The Law …
And ‘ You ’ Showed Me … ‘ You ’ Wanted Them To Know
What ‘ We ’ and ‘ They ’ All Saw !
(The Day I Wrote This …
I Mean, Right After I Wrote This
I Opened Up The Bible …
And There It Was ...
My Ok-Heavenly, Confirmation …
Everything Is Alright Still
... Psalms 109: 27, 28 )
God, Save Us 'All' From Sin ...
Amen
MoonBee
Who can really forgive us...
if not God Himself whose love for us
is measured by endless kindness?
I tried to forgive others,
and although the grudge is forgotten,
the unpleasant images, the hurtful words and the evident pain...
are hardly revoked by the indelible pen!
God, ease my torment and sleeplessness, to let my bitterness end!
I can't pretend that all is well...
that they are forgiven when resentment still avenges
as a sword piercing the flesh...making it bleed;
and as any human being, with faults and imperfections,
I must look to you Lord: to gather my strength and forgive them!
Nothing I will hold back while I am being cleansed,
and if tears fall, it is the pity towards me, not them...
for not having been kind enough to have confronted my greed!
Show me one person who has not sinned,
and among those who dislike this truth...
that individual won't be me; pretentious honesty
is the biggest lie which makes us stare
in a fogged-up mirror without prospective;
examine the glances of liars who deceive
by appearance, and more than us they cling to uncertainty...
to hide and deny the turmoil of their fretful thoughts!
Who can really forgive us...
without ever remembering our sins?
Society is too proud to humble itself,
to extend understanding and forgiveness;
it is God who pities us and desires to save our wretched souls:
to make them shine with a celestial light when clouds abound,
forbidding storms to trouble our inner peace...
and has anyone ever exalted Him with a loud sound?
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
We are people, not robots. We won’t accept your lies
We will not stand idly by, while another patriot cries
We will watch you crumble and we will watch you sink
You can never tell us, what to do or what to think
This is our Christian country and now you can believe
If you don’t like the way it is, then pack it up and leave
We are not here to serve you. You are here to serve
When you put down our country, you just strike a nerve
You will not teach our children with your venomous bite
We will teach our children what is wrong and what is right
You have no power over us. We will beat your psychological game
God will stay in our government and we will praise His Name
This country’s free and so are you to worship as you please
But we believe that God protects our borders and our seas
We welcome all and pray each day that no one ever be banned
But if you don’t like it feel free to move to another land
Without our permission, you really have no powers
We don’t infringe on your rights, so don’t infringe on ours
We will say Under God in our pledge, each and every morning
Please don’t try to stop us, we are giving you fair warning
Our Christian Constitution is not written on shifting sands
If you try to change it, you will have a battle on your hands
Do not flaunt your authority and push us to the brink
You’ll find out that our people are a lot tougher than you think
This is one nation Under God, so ring the Liberty Bell
If you don’t like the way we live, by all means, go to Hell.
Morning broke clearly over the earth,
loving hugs and kisses amid the "Business as Usual" atmosphere.
The quiet hand of God raising another beautiful day,
As the anxious hand of the assassin prepared to deliver his blow.
Thousands set their life course on the wave of human endeavor,
man's handiwork beckoning to them .
The gleaming towers embraced this fold,
Just as the beast pounced on the innocent.
Those first ripples of fear,
Gained momentum as a tide...
Crashed down upon the breakwater of our hearts,
Carrying with it the memories of friends and loved ones.
The hatred of freedom and peace,
Raised its ugly head only to see the devastation.
Hiding now in the land of once enlightened men,
Knowing its life worthless in the company of civilized society.
As for those who remain and remember the innocent,
The pain will still linger for a while.
For loved ones gone in an instant of madness,
The prayers of a tearful nation are raised to heaven.
The anger of these deep emotions,
Must be tempered by the forgiveness of the heart.
Justice will prevail one day,
If not soon, then in the righteous time of the Almighty Creator.
Until that time comes...
VIGILANCE is the watchword.
DETERMINED RESOLVE is the promise,
With FAITH that tomorrow, the quiet hand of God will raise another
Beautiful day.
A defender of justice, my stately Viking icon
A hermaphroditic mystery unfounded fears surrounding.
Reigns victorious over odium, an unlikely champion.
This brave genius subjugates falsehoods by telling…
My husband is my hero having faced differences alone.
One true champion loves; my darling has forgiven many men.
Caring instead of detesting those with hatreds so well honed.
Knowing the lack of understanding when false judgments begin.
Compassion brings to tears any tragedy borne by others.
Brawn builds a safety net protecting me from foes.
Wisdom wields a loving way of relating to our brothers.
Great insight healed my weary heart and understanding grows.
Educated intellectually and spiritually inclined.
My warrior against evil defends God’s goodly ways.
The front-runner to forgiveness with happy hopes refined.
Walking along a righteous path, together strengthening, love stays.
The victor over loneliness, now, my heart does profess.
No matter whether judgment flies, reality remains.
There is no greater love than our love, by God blessed.
Except for the love of God himself that never distains.
© January 16, 2011
Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
Thanks for wondering, Sara, It is NOT metaphoric...it is reality! My husband was born a member of the third sex...called inter-sexed, these days. Lovingly, Dane
Form:
Haiti, the home of voodoo practices
Seventeenth Century Spain cedes to France
Catholic Spaniards trembled when they saw
“Dead” men revived to wander in trances
A vile poison can make men appear dead
Revival requires an antidote
But perhaps there is more to zombie lore
An explanation to why these souls woke
Brutally treated slaves worked sugar fields
Captives from Africa known as “Maroons”
As French aristocrats sat and grew fat
Blacks sweated for “sweets” in the tropic sun
Buried guilt deep at night still festers
For conscience is God’s gift to each man
Some may suppress it for just a short time
‘Til magical night envelopes the land
Spirits of those who were taken in chains
Are given by God a chance to rebel
Stalking the living in deathly pallor
Haunting their captors with visions of hell
“Zombifications,” Maroons erected
Spreading the horrors of slavery with anger
Showing the French what their evil produced
And putting their sanity in danger
So please put the voodoo dolls back on shelves
The needle-sharp pricks of remorse can sting
Enslaved Maroons prevail in heaven’s court
Our Creator’s eyes aren’t missing a thing
Magic, black or white, God sees no color
Love is bestowed on men of all races
And those who question the Lord’s intentions
Should look in the eyes of living-dead faces