Archive for the 'Poetry' Category
(Chronologically Listed)
The Hold-fast
I threaten’d to observe the strict decree
Of my dear God with all my power and might;
But I was told by one it could not be;
Yet I might trust in God to be my light.
“Then will I trust,” said I, “in Him alone.”
“Nay, e’en to trust in Him was also His:
We must confess that nothing is […]
Published by the tattooed poet on April 8th, 2008 tagged Mystical, Poetry | 2 Comments »
Thou hast not left me, oft as I left Thee…
Well, we’re off!
I think I know the feeling Harry Breaker Morant must’ve had when he said…
We may not camp to-morrow, for we’ve many a mile to go,
Ere we turn our horses’ heads round to make tracks for down below.
There’s many a water-course to cross, and many a black-soil plain,
And many a mile of mulga ridge […]
Published by the tattooed poet on April 6th, 2008 tagged Pattersons, Poetry, Lyrics, Idaho | 1 Comment »
Ash Wednesday
Because I do not hope to turn again
Because I do not hope
Because I do not hope to turn
Desiring this man’s gift and that man’s scope
I no longer strive to strive towards such things
(Why should the aged eagle stretch its wings?)
Why should I mourn
The vanished power of the usual reign?Because I […]
Published by the tattooed poet on February 6th, 2008 tagged Spiritual Formation, Poetry, Quotes | Comment now »
The Road Not Taken
I don’t think there has ever been a time in my life when I identified more with a piece of literature than I do with this poem right now. Every line has special meaning…
Robert Frost (1874–1963). Mountain Interval. 1920.
TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long […]
Published by the tattooed poet on January 20th, 2008 tagged Poetry, Quotes, Discipleship | 2 Comments »
Here, O Potter, is Thy Making Stuff!
Tis that I am not good - that is enough
I pry no farther - that is not the way.
Here, O Potter, is thy making stuff!
Set thy wheel going; let it whir and play.
The chips in me, the stones, the straws, the sand,
Cast them out with fine separating hand,
And make a vessel of thy yielding clay.
Stanza […]
Published by the tattooed poet on January 18th, 2008 tagged Spiritual Formation, Poetry, Quotes | Comment now »
It’s almost over…
“Human beings are the finest towards the finish of the year;We are almost like we should be when the Christmas season’s here.
Then we are thinking more of others than we did the month before,
And the laughter of the children is a joy worth waiting for.
We are less the selfish creatures than at any other time,
When […]
Published by the tattooed poet on December 30th, 2007 tagged Poetry, Christmas, Quotes | Comment now »
A Conceit
by Maya Angelou
Give me your hand
Make room for me
to lead and follow
you
beyond this rage of poetry.
Let others have
the privacy of
touching words
and love of loss
of love.
For me
Give me your hand
Friends, Maya Angelou, Poetry, Quotes
Published by the tattooed poet on December 22nd, 2007 tagged Poetry, Friends, Quotes | Comment now »
A Christmas Dream, And How It Came True
From The Short Story “A Christmas Dream, And How It Came True” by Louisa May Alcott
From our happy home
Through the world we roam
One week in all the year,
Making winter spring
With the joy we bring
For Christmas-tide is here.
Now the eastern star
Shines from afar
To light the poorest home;
Hearts warmer grow,
Gifts freely flow,
For Christmas-tide has come.
Now gay trees […]
Published by the tattooed poet on December 21st, 2007 tagged Poetry, Christmas | Comment now »
The Lord’s Messiah Comes
The Lord’s Messiah comes;
God’s kingdom to announce.
He calls us to repent,
and all our sins renounce.
His conquest over sin
now gives us peace within.
He breaks into our world,
the light of God to show,
all darkness to dispel,
all evil overthrow.
Let justice now be done,
new life on earth begun.
Lord of the end to come,
your praise we will repeat,
the world you […]
Published by the tattooed poet on December 20th, 2007 tagged Worship, Poetry, Lyrics, Advent | Comment now »
The Sword of Surprise
by G.K. Chesterton
Sunder me from my bones, O sword of God
Till they stand stark and strange as do the trees;
That I whose heart goes up with the soaring woods
May marvel as much at these.
Sunder me from my blood that in the dark
I hear that red ancestral river run
Like branching buried floods that find the sea
But […]