Gentle and Lowly
Can leaders be proud
Speak out fiercely and loud
Caring not much for truth
Nor providing sound proof
Parading themselves
As far above all
Expecting opponents
To stumble and fall?
What a contrast is seen
In Jesus my Lord
Who said to the weak
Come to Me and find rest
Take my yoke and learn
I am gentle and lowly
Find rest for your souls.
Read Matthew 11:28-30
better ways to heal
therapeutic poetry~
a dance of feelings
spoken verse trending
curbs obsessive impulses~
when we meditate
breathe in and speak out
demolish your obsessions~
share and overcome
We all start
From form zero
That's what I know.
Why take much pride
When we came none
And nothing else.
Why look upon
Up everyone
If we are none.
We owe one life
Not brag have we
In all this life.
I’ve been at a such low
place,
it’s hard to seek his face.
My faith has been put
to the test,
There is a heavy load
on my chest.
What am I to do when I
feel hope has run its
course?
Shall I hang my head down
with much remorse?
I heard the answer to
the question, it was a
still small sound.
I looked but there was
no one around.
He spoke to my spirit
in my lowly state,
Seeing how much was
on my plate.
Saying, always have
faith, no matter what,
Because it will see you
through when you're
down in a rut.
Alexis Y.
08/26/2021
Oh, from what demented mind was born
A thing so pointless as a lawn?
Surely some old eccentric lord
In a mansion, born both rich and barmy,
Who could so lavishly afford
A mighty artful minion army
Of sowers of seed and pullers of weed
Of mowers of grass and spreaders of feed
That could do for him each filthy deed
And meet the lawns fortnightly need.
But we, suburban lowly born,
Must perforce do all this on our own
Lest our green and lifeless lawn
Become like a meadow, overgrown.
Oh, from what demented mind was born
A thing so pointless as a lawn?
© Barry Freeman – May 4th 2020
L-ove
E-nds
R-age
I-n
G-reat
R-ighteousness
A-s
C-ompassion
E-rases
M-adness
I-mplementing
L-owly
L-ife
A-nd
N-obility
Topic: Birthday of Lerigrace Millan (May 11)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
The lowly boy with tarnished shoes,
walks the streets alone.
A hunger, that aches, ensues,
whilst drenched, frozen to the bone.
A sad statistic, the truth unfolds
a boy destined to perish,
knows not what his future holds,
it’s a life we all should cherish.
Poverty for those so young,
Is heartbreaking to grasp
The rich don’t care, they’ll take that bung,
As their fortunes they will clasp.
The most dangerous critter is the lowly mosquito
Spreading nasty germs round the world, my amigos
Need to squish them flat
With a swat and a splat
Watch for blood and guts all over your chemise-o
Take My Lowly Life
(I hate typing. Wish I could type
with my eyes.)
Take my lowly life then let it be
In our lovely world where humanity
Will recognize each color and hue
In our great flag red, white and blue.
On flag you find fifty brilliant stars
Reflecting wounds and all the scars
Flying on field with shades of green
Truly creating a magnificent scene.
He gave great speech with conviction
At Democratic Presidential Convention
Moving while we waited to hear more
About things for country had in store.
All was so simple and no mind-bender
Equally treated includes transgender
Inequality may have been in the past
Are now free from it all at last, at last.
James Serious Mysterious Horn
Retired Veteran and Poet
Glad God gave me the incentive
to write another poem and I do
truly thank Him for it. Best
speech ever given by Obama.
The lowly turnip
Earthy, fleshy
Roots falling from its eyes
Fed to livestock
One of God’s root crops
Yet deemed untasty
By most palates
Carrots and potatoes
Receive accolades
Carrots in orange party dress
So crunchy and sweet
Fit in the school child’s lunch box
Potatoes in russet brown
Mashed, fried and frittered
Prized alongside McDonalds and Kentucky Fried
Do not despair, my friend,
Not all root crops
Are valued similarly
Said the rutabaga disparagingly
The most dangerous critter is the lowly mosquito
They spread nasty germs round the world, mes amigos
Need to squish them flat
With a swat and a splat
Watch for blood and guts all over your chemise-o
© Jack Ellison 2015
Take your place among the lowly,
Walk the path that Jesus walked,
There has never been one like Him,
With authority He taught.
With compassion, cast out demons,
Heaven's truths revealed to all,
Many wonders worked He daily,
Won the hearts of great and small.
But, when He stood facing Pilate,
Few there were who followed then,
Still, with Him, there was forgiveness,
For the souls of faithful men.
Because what they didn't know then,
As the lowly path He trod,
Was that He Who hung on Calvary,
Truly was the Son of God.
(copyright 10/30/15)
I bend and bow, Father,
my branch next to Thee.
How happy I am
to be growing on Your tree.
The trials of this world,
they help me to grow,
and teaches life lessons
You want me to know.
Many things that happen,
I don't understand.
But someday I'll know,
Your Grand Master Plan.
Left me up, Lord,
when I am weary and weak.
Strengthen me daily,
and let me close to You keep.
Walking down the lowly paths
A man in a fur coat locks eyes with a child
In the head of the child she pictures him dining
Not walking down the lowly paths of her abode
The orphan with glistening eyes bows her head low
The man in the fur coat looks away and continues
He pities her…embarrassed…
Rolling away, strolling aside,
Sleepy contradictions drenched in gold.
An image taken, picture saved,
A tiny tribute of memory to hold.
My England. For you are mine,
And not mine. Everyone's Never.
For once would you show me shine?
A prize that I will love forever.
At the fading of the day. Twighlight.
You tend towards a deeper hue,
But I sense and behold this place,
My England, the night of you.
But why do I love you? So dear.
My fickle, boastful friend.
From sun up to sunset. The day.
Then till your night greets its end.
I cannot fathom my patriotic pride,
Yet, you simmer in the half light,
Tearing love from my insides.
To me, all flaws, out of sight.
Smokey skies. Low Fade. Soft shade.
Echoes of pastimes, inherent to history.
Night screen. Moon sheen casts on,
My starry land of mystery.
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