So the pharisees and saducees waited their time in order to trap
Jesus in His manner of saying things.'
That they could lay charges against Him.'
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ dusky ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦
Flows the ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ dream ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦
The fires of life ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ and gleam;
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦
¦¦¦¦¦¦ beyond beauty tempting ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ the heart-hold of the light:
Sounds ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ the mystic word of might:
¦¦¦¦¦ from ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ breaks the living stream.
¦¦¦¦¦¦ out beyond the ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ music-filled,
The kingly ¦¦¦¦ sits on the ancient throne,
Wielding the sceptre, ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ alone,
Knowing ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ all it dared and willed.
(Blackout of Magic by George William Russell)
Ere Dawn resumed her immemorial trust,
And vested earth with its hereditary fire,
A quiet ordinance, older far than light,
Passed through creation's unrecorded choir.
No seraph stirred.
No sceptre changed its hand.
Only possession loosed its last command.
The cedar kept its patriarchal shade;
The river held its testament to sea;
The stars maintained their sacerdotal watch,
Yet none rehearsed the grammar of the free.
Each thing fulfilled
Its undisputed part,
Without one covenant of "mine" at heart.
Then at the vesper table, long made holy
By homely fidelities no years could sever,
She brake the loaf, prepared the waiting bowl,
And reached to serve her absent love as ever.
Her hand grew still—
For love, at length made whole,
Could not distinguish giver from the bowl.
Then Light, divested of all need to shine,
Found every soul had always been its own.
I would say off with their heads
the queen’s evil cousin said
Lawanda, the queen kept mum
sometimes her cuz could speak rather dumb
you should have edicts, make them eat cake
said her brother, whose marriage did not take
the queen mother had oodles of advice too
give them the raspberry, throw them a shoe
the queen had no idea the trouble she would see
when she was in power and could write a decree
Be kind to each other, be generous and fair.
She wrote it out and waved her wand in the air
What about power? Don’t you want to be in charge?
This idiotic idea was issued to her by her Aunt Marge.
I want to have a kingdom that is full of people who care.
So saying, the queen twirled her sceptre in the air
(The sceptre shall not depart from Judah, nor a lawgiver from between his feet, until Shiloh come; and unto him shall the gathering of the people be). Genesis 49:10.
So interested
To know the exact meaning
The nice word "Shiloh"
It is found in Genesis
What does it exactly mean?
Comment toucher une fleur
et la faire éclore
en la pénétrant du regard
jusqu'à ce qu'elle s'épanouisse
sous le sceptre de ton regard
If your'e going to preach it brother.? Hit-em with the Gospel
For its like no other; Spell' Speak of mercy..And the flames of hell' and ring out the message like a ten ton bell.' Tell the truth
'The world is round' like Isaiah shouted.' He really went to
Town.' Also the village for that to matters.' No doubt giving
The matrons a feast of natters.' Yes tell of the King! With a
Sceptre of iron.' Ruler of Nations the one so much better,' by
Leaps and leauges.' Yet a donkey His steed! the pharisees bane.' He allowed them to keep their greeds.' Yes preach of
Life and tbe riches of God.' To all those destined to go under
The sod.' Some clerics may repent.?To turn away? from the
Gasp-ell of death they gasp out today.' Nothing is new as
Solomon put.' Just whitewashed tombs on top thats it.' The
Bones of this matter.' Wont be raised at all.' Who have gasp-ed
Out the message of slavery and thrall.' Its hotter than this
Poem.'The place they must go.' If you don't want to join them 'just let Jesus know.'
The Call to Venus
(A lone voice whispers as a ceremony begins)
Candles lit
In brazier pit
Like a reborn Prospero
Music playing
As offerings
Are lit
To summon the universe
And all who goes
To step in and commit
Guardians in
The Great In-Between
Guard us
And all our kin
From all unseen
Who flows
White lights
Bound
Around our homes
To guard against ghouls
From loosened tombs
Floating around like red balloons
We pray tonight
For astral protection
In all our rooms
As
Candles lit
In brazier pits
Burn
With
Music playing
As sandalwood offerings
And Christmas ferns
Are used as keys
Of devotional angelic magic
To turn away
All who conspire
And drink from the Devil's Urn
As we call to you
Venus
For protection
As the Great Wheel
Turns
So
Come our sceptre-bearer of harmony
And love to cope
Do ut de
Dum vivo
Repleti spe
(‘I give that you may give.
As long as I live. Filled with hope.)
(C)
Copyright John Duffy
Trump should be defeated with truth and democracy
Not with weapons and zealous filled idiocy
Crooks, a young terrorist and short-sighted halfwit
Who sealed Fredonia’s fate and everyone who lives in it
Yalda’s fate that gods, angels, and men can’t outwit
Soon the shouts of people will make the land quake and split
Even if Crooks succeeded in his aim and made it
It would have made Trump into a martyr and spectre
Who even without that gold bold eagle sceptre
Would have his cold presence cover all of Fredonia
And make Fredonia burst into red and blue fire
And another man possessed by the phantom of zeal
Would arise from the ashes and makes Trump’s will real
Having horns of coal
His hair is of twisting smoke
His flesh a dim gold
His black blood tastes of sea salt
Holding a tyrant's sceptre
With a lion's face
Skin of green-tinted copper
With a flaming mouth
On a throne of red fire
That certain men bow down to
Rusted iron skin
A face of a proud eagle
Who whispers to all
Robed in red animal blood
Worshipped though he's deaf and blind
Made of silver scales
His own see-through blood is sweet
With a sad fish-face
Who drowns the lost in rivers
While proclaiming "Purity"
Made of tin and lead
A dragon loosely held up
With flames breaking though
Its flames used for magic spells
Its tin scales used for potions
A Tanka chain to desribe the 5 demon kings from the religion of Manichaeism.
Christ, the King of kings
Of whom my soul sings
Born in a manger
His life in danger
No palace, no bed
No place to lay head
Walking everywhere
No carriage to spare
Riding a donkey
No horse ride swanky
A crown of sharp thorns
The King's head adorns
A reed placed in hand
Not a sceptre grand
Scarlet robe mocking
Such treatment shocking
He endured all pain
And then rose again
One day, He'll return
World to overturn
The King glorious
Christ victorious
14-03-2023
Clear cut diamond
530 carats gem
Mined in South Africa
Queen Elizabeth I wonder
How did you feel
Knowing The Great Star Of Africa was never yours
Did you think you would just bond
With it during your term
Or we would just forget that it came from Africa
You made a blunder
Which you never had to deal
With the day you accepted it its force
Elevated you even higher wherever you went
As it sparkled on your sceptre and on your head
It made you stand out in any room you find yourself or in any crowd
You spent
Your entire life mesmerized by it but now that you’re dead
And Charles is about to be crowned
King will he have the guts to bring it
Back home where it belongs
Will he finally see it fit
I wait for that day where the wrongs
You made are acknowledged and are made right
The road ahead isn’t easy but it looks bright
A destroyer O Death ye thyself call,
Mere toy, no less, art thou to Destiny,
It's Time O that in time devours us all,
It’s cosmic scheme, call thee no Almighty.
And O Poor Death, those that ye think ye kill
Never art slain, live on god given grace,
In slumber they get blest, it’s not thy will,
They just shop to get new life, newer dress.
Not just toy, slave thou art to divine will,
No more than a trigger in hands of Fate,
To its design art thou called ‘pon to deal,
Dire sceptre ye wield, but at whose dictate?
Ye well know that soul lives eternal life,
Flesh alone dies, in vain doth bleed thy knife.
___________________________________________
Sonnets | 10.11.2008, revised May 2023|
“Wrong will be right when Aslan comes in sight,
At the sound of his roar, sorrow will be no more,
When he bares his teeth, winter meets its death,
And when he shakes his mane, we shall have spring again.”
– Mr. Beaver (The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe)
THE LION OF JUDAH
Majestic mane - wind pets the fur
where no earthling can stroke.
His roar like thunder-blast, no purr -
sacrificed lamb awoke.
Lion couches in paradise -
Fierce and fearless; revered
His life for ours - the purchase price.
Christ rose…and interfered
with mock-lion - serpent unmasked.
Judah’s great paw strikes head
of the venomous snake, as tasked.
Man born, reborn…sin’s dead.
Terror to ears, frenzy of brain -
fearsome to all mortals.
Pleasing to His; drives lost insane.
Each to his own portals.
In end, all will bow at His throne
by roar of His sceptre -
Jesus Christ’s name, no greater known.
His chosen Bride - He rewards her.
3/24/2023
Sponsor: Brian Strand
Essence blend never before encountered
Requests he bury his nose in her blouse
Eloquent outrage smoothly surmounted
Decisive fair decorum she endows
Petals and pepper sauce complexity
Cerebellum pillows King's heavy head
Slave to prime advisor dexterity
Burdensome thoughts bedside storybook read
Prominent gem on band of platinum
Temptation's tassles draped in possible
Syrup super glue subtle acumen
Fairy floss buffer from bosses hostile
Daily chest chainmail pools in her presence
Regal defender dumbfounded in reverence
20th October 2022
Two Will Overrule
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