Poems

edited December 1969 in Random Issues
Anyone on here thinks they have some good poetry to share? I am sort of a poetry buff, and so, I like to hear any poems that anyone here may have written. Please don't be afraid to post if you have anything in mind that you may have written or read.

Thank you very much,

ray

Comments

  • Humpy dumpty sat on a stretcher, Humpy dumpty had a great fracture
    And all the ambulance men and his next of kin, tried to give humpty ventilation again
  • [quote author=mnc_hnn link=topic=14685.msg166321#msg166321 date=1382398100]
    Humpy dumpty sat on a stretcher, Humpy dumpty had a great fracture
    And all the ambulance men and his next of kin, tried to give humpty ventilation again


    LOOOL

    Roses are Red,
    Violets are Blue,
    I have Alzheimers,
    Cheese and Toast.

    But on a serious note, any real poetry?

    Ray
  • Aghape, returnorthodoxy,

    I personally don't write poetry, but recently bought a newly translated book of Pope Shenouda's poems and came across one entitled 'Hymn of Barabbas'. His most recent translations, which haven't been available in all churches yet, are articulate and capture the intended meaning of H.H, unlike his previous books which lacked in depth and proper English all together. I think these poems ryme in Arabic, and for obvious reasons the same can't be done in English. Thought this might edify

    Hymn of Barabbas
    "And they all cried out at once, saying, 'Away with this Man, and release to us Barabbas' " luke 23.18

    It was not You who listend to the Serpent
            But my mother, who sinned and to its call listened
    It was not you who plucked from the garden
            But my mother, who of its fruit plucked illicit
    You are holy and pure, whereas I am
            The one who in evil strayed and was lost
    You are high in heaven, whereas I am
            The son of the earth, whose origin is its dust
    You are Lord and God, whereas I am
            your sinful, disobedient slave
    So why is it You Who are crucified here
            While I, the sinner, am free and boastful?
    A wisdom, O Lord, I cannot comprehend
            And a tenderness limitless and sublime


    How strange, O Lord, what happened-
            Why did they hate you, why?
    You lived, my Master, for a time with them
            Casting out hatred and discord from them
    You were, O Holy one, a compassionate heart
            Filling the world with love and peace
    You were feet for the lame and hand
            For the maimed, and a Father for the orphan
    You raised the dead, the blind could see
            And the paralytic took strength and stood up
    So why did the world rise up against
            Your tender-hearted Person and their hurts multiply?
    So why is it You who are crucified here
            While I, the sinner, am free and boastful?
    A wisdom, O Lord, I cannot comprehend
            And a tenderness limitless and sublime


    It is I, not You, who ought to have been crucified
            I, who am full of shame, who has my soul defiled
    I am the one, woe is me, who has in sin wasted his today
            As I have waster my yesterday
    I am the one who after death runs, and in
            carousing and drunkenness, my own grave digs
    I am the thirsty and who hastened
            Begging the Serpent to my cup fill
    O Crucified, You Whose holiness was seen
            By all in the ungrateful world
    Whenever the eye tries to look upon you
            My ashamed soul covers it with tears
    So why is it You Who are crucified  here
            While I, the sinner, am free and boastful?
    A wisdom, O Lord, I cannot comprehend
            And a tenderness limitless and sublime



  • A bird is singing songs of love and bliss,
    But hailstones fly, and she alarms in this.
    An awful cry is thrust about her then;
    That bird may never sing her songs again.

    Not to be a downer  :P
  • Here's another of the thrice blessed Pope Shenouda's poem, entitled

    Arise
    "Let God arise, Let His enemies be scattered"
    Psalm 68.1

    Arise, and Satan destroy!
      Leave of his kingdom no remnant
    Arise, and to the dead preach
      'That sin of your has been forgiven'
    Forgive Peter his weakness
      Wipe the Magdalene's tears
    Reveal your wounds, convincing
      Thomas, for his doubts run deep
    And send to us Mark
      To build our Church pure
    And come and accept, my master, to
      Dwell in the house of his See

    Lift up faces downcast
      Pity the eyelids weeping
    Tyrants have over us rejoiced
      So arise, mock their weapons
    They assumed You a Man who was no more
      For Whom there was no return, no deliverance
    Yes, indeed, the Christ You are
      You are life's very Source
    Arise in glory splendid, or rather
      Appear in authority Divine
    Arise amidst the hosts of heaven
      For in heaven are you Lord
    Arise, and the guards fill with dread
      By Your splendid appearing astound them
    Arise, and strengthen shepherds' faith
      And gather the flock scattered

    Time has passed us by
      As strangers in this world
    Fallen are our consciences here
      And not able to arise
    For above the tomb vast
      Lies a stone and soldiers guarding
    O You Who raised the dead
      And from the dead did arise
    O You Who did death destroy, O Lord
        Of resurrection and immortality
    Arise and souls deliver
      From the tomb of straying and of sin
    Arise, and strengthen shepherds' faith
      And gather the flock scattered
  • Tobit,
    how about it compiling them and sending them to me on pm?
    I wanna add them here: http://tasbeha.org/hymn_library/cat/310
  • Sure; the new book is about 55 pages with many poems/meditations. When I get the time I'll type up and send them over.
  • I studied poetry for a semester so I have much to say about translated poetry (which I argue is counter-productive). But that is a long story for another time where I am not studying Biochem LOL. Ill explain my point further in a second, but that you, Tobit, for the poetry. I wrote this next piece after a bad experience with a monk a while back. I think this poem is helpful to understanding what it means to be a proper man of God, versus being dressed like one (with no personal attack against this monk whom I have since made peace with.)

    I may not have seen much, what what I have seen is such,
    a man who curses another claiming justification by a divine touch.
    The other is the stranger through it is the man who claims to be,
    He is no stranger to this world his passions running free.
    His passions dictate to him a superior estate.
    Come look at the man in black. Come. Come and see.

    His hair is long, his clothes are black, his heart all the more,
    But he vindicates himself because he has vowed to live poor.
    And so he feels that heaven is his upcoming fate.
    He’ll never admit that though, he’ll say he can’t be sure.

    But I’ll admit there is more certainty than meets the eye,
    For take a look at the other now sorrowfully passing by
    His life is made more difficult by the man in black cloth
    All too odd it is, it was the man who swore to die.

    And so the stranger, the other, returns to his home.
    His days of travels are over, he now ceases to roam.
    And the man in black cloth remains in his imperial abode,
    Never to realize that it was the stranger who was the man, and the man who had strayed from the road.

    Ray
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