Sometimes writing poetry is my mistake,
Better to embark on a large cargo ship,
Which will take you to Tahiti or Honolulu,
Better give candy to a blue-eyed schoolgirl,
Sometimes writing poetry is my mistake,
Better to cook a chicken with lime,
Better to read the confessions of Saint Augustine
Or spend the afternoon at the movies with people,
Sometimes writing poetry is a strange mistake,
Especially never think that we have talent, genius,
Better to visit Lisbon or Patagonia,
Listen to fado with the Big Dipper.
Parfois, écrire de la poésie est une erreur,
Mieux vaut embarquer sur un grand cargo,
Qui vous conduira jusqu’à Tahiti ou Honolulu,
Mieux vaut offrir des bonbons à une écolière aux yeux bleus,
Parfois écrire de la poésie est une erreur,
Mieux vaut cuisiner un poulet au citron vert,
Mieux vaut lire les confessions de Saint Augustin
Ou passer son après-midi au cinéma avec des gens,
Parfois écrire de la poésie est une erreur bizarre,,
Surtout ne jamais penser que l’on a du talent, du génie,
Mieux vaut visiter Lisbonne ou la Patagonie,
Écouter du fado en compagnie de la Grande Ourse.
Categories:
saint augustine, appreciation, missing, poetry,
Form: Free verse
A Quote by: Saint Augustine
Truth is like a Lion, you don't have to defend it, let it loose, it will defend itself.
Layers upon layers of deceit, when we practice duplicity
we lose the way of authentic self;
When truth has been buried within the walls of denial,
the soul suffers great loss;
Ask a child or an old one if they know truth when they see it
ask yourself this,
Can a bushel of light hide underneath a barrel
without bursting out from the cracks?
Drive the forklift of truth, take it to the penthouse
for lying will only keep you in the jailhouse of suffering
Truth is best served warm, with compassion and empathy
be as true to yourself and others, as you can.
Categories:
saint augustine, truth,
Form: Free verse
If the Lord were a maid, He'd be my Queen;
and as my Queen, I'd be His king; and love,
revere, and prize Him like Saint Augustine.
My Queen, whose throne-room is Heaven above,
I'd honor and praise, for He's the Monarch
of my soul and the Sovereign of my heart.
The Regent of my being (whose hallmark's
my crest, from whose presence I'd ne'er depart),
I'd worship; and with these lines now extol,
lift up beyond death and for all of time:
for He made me and created It all,
heaven, earth, space, time, and my gift for rhyme.
If I, too, were a maid, I'd be His Bride;
and as His Bride, I would be at His side.
Categories:
saint augustine, first love, god, love,
Form: Sonnet
“The eternal mirror leads the minds of those who look in it to a knowledge of all things and better than in any other way.” Saint Augustine
Let us scrutinize the pandemic's mirror.
As in lesser and greater lights it
impresses its weird controtions by the
splendor of its ravage beyond the multicolored dome of
religious shrines east and west.
Il ne puet etre autre chose.
Molecule infused with viciousness and
darkness of its awe-inspiring glory
across earth's feeble plain with its
humbling effect without a token or trace of
mercy while April comes and goes like a
rebel without a cause in custody of
earth's listless life, a voyeur voyaging with
bones strewn in its cave seeking
death – the obscurant Orpheus' mirror sniffing out
hope's meticulous stance.
Categories:
saint augustine, allegory,
Form: Free verse
Moonlight is a shimmering sonata
Softly sounded on Ludwig’s piano keys;
A starry night is brightly layered oils
Van brushed boldly upon a canvas skin;
And gravity is Isaac’s red apple,
Falling into black and white notation,
To be or not to be, in the mind’s eye.
Well beyond the reach of all our taboos,
Where side by side fly the bat and the dove,
Are the things we fear and the things we love.
We often find patterns where there are none
To justify the things that we have done.
Between Saint Augustine and Auschwitz lie
Many things, all which spring from the mind’s eye.
Truth and error are found in the same way,
By setting out to find things, come what may.
We discover the designs of nature.
We transcribe what we find in abstract ways
And call them science, art, or invention;
But lying behind our every intention,
Ferreting out patterns, is the mind’s eye.
Categories:
saint augustine, art, evil, fear, love,
Form: Free verse
#4
Luke .16:19-31
‘’Royal’’ Dives revelled while
At his gate sick Pious lay,
Rabid dogs cared for Pious wounds.
Till illness had its way,
He rejoiced with Saints he cheered.
Dives still; with thoughts for none,
Torah rejecting, digging a hole
He died. The ground his body held.
Their ways reversed he felt the heat.
Relationships widened still.
A chasm yawned, ‘Pious’ he called out but,
He sensed the pain but couldn’t help.
Dives carelessness behind,
His kin He hoped to notify;
What hope could be received?
If ‘’One risen from the dead’’ did not
Impress.’’ for those who won’t believe.
Which termini to leave? Which way to go?
Paradise or Hades, money, possessions!
If they won’t hear or know the truth,
Hear & read the patriarchs & prophecies,
And those you know can fill some space,
Just choose which way to go,
To continue in the race.
Saint Augustine.
“The New is in the Old concealed;
the Old is in the New revealed.”
Categories:
saint augustine, care, destiny,
Form: Free verse
# 3.
Lk. 5:30-39. Matt. 9:12-17.
Haggai.2:8-9. TLB
In the quiet place free
From all worldly encumbrances,
Reach out, God to grasp.
Without His hand; we’re chained.
Uninformed minds closed to The Spirit!
Don’t add mere thoughts,
To what is good, trust worthy
Truth, which no mould can hold.
Old & New have their
Place in the kingdom,
Filled with redemption & purity
Where the new God is The Christ.
Saint Augustine.
“The New is in the Old concealed;
the Old is in the New revealed.”
Categories:
saint augustine, life,
Form: Blank verse
from the dust and din of the ancient Roman world,
calling to people of good faith everywhere,
to make imperialist, unjust war no more.
...
But only the West's warmongers
and profiteers hold the rostrum today...
Those same "shoddy thieves and assassins", indeed.
Instigators, and the mistaken, pretending their very best to
not be making wars of mere choice, pretending to not be
making wars for mere barbaric, unholy profit, in a
total absence of any direct, existential need for,
and consequent right to make, war.
Categories:
saint augustine, philosophy, religion, symbolism,
Form: Prose Poetry
Cool soft saint Augustine under
bare feet, fresh earth scent
wafting through the breeze;
Gardenia's sweet fragrant bloom
with buzzing bee in pursuit.
Hammock swaying under the
shade tree, beckoning me
to just be, with Thee.
Categories:
saint augustine, nature
Form: Free verse