The Poetaster's Korner Tasteful poetry for JESUS but don't let the flowers fool you. NO HOMERS ALLOWED! |
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Putting the "stud" back in Bible Study
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Posts: 79,910
Join Date: Sep 2006
Location: Freehold, Iowa
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Re: Where Have You Been? -
10-14-2007, 01:56 PM
Quote:
Originally Posted by Brother Temperance
I trust he was nothing to do with Uncle Rummy's side of the family?
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Of course not. My sinful mother's side of the family. Thanks for bringing up a very painful subject.
Here is a partial list from just a few scripture verses:
Hypocrites (Matthew 24:51), The Unforgiving (Mark 11:26), Homosexuals (Romans 1:26, 27), Fornicators (Romans 1:29), The Wicked (Romans 1:29), The Covetous (Romans 1:29), The Malicious (Romans 1:29), The Envious (Romans 1:29), Murderers (Romans 1:29), The Deceitful (Romans 1:29), Backbiters (Romans 1:30), Haters of God (Romans 1:30), The Despiteful (Romans 1:30), The Proud (Romans 1:30), Boasters (Romans 1:30), Inventors of evil (Romans 1:30), Disobedient to parents (Romans 1:30), Covenant breakers (Romans 1:31), The Unmerciful (Romans 1:31), The Implacable (Romans 1:31), The Unrighteous (1Corinthians 6:9), Idolaters (1Corinthians 6:9), Adulterers (1Corinthians 6:9), The Effeminate (1Corinthians 6:9), Thieves (1Corinthians 6:10), Drunkards (1Corinthians 6:10), Reviler (1Corinthians 6:10), Extortioners (1Corinthians 6:10), The Fearful (Revelation 21:8), The Unbelieving (Revelation 21:8), The Abominable (Revelation 21:8), Whoremongers (Revelation 21:8), Sorcerers (Revelation 21:8), All Liars (Revelation 21:8)
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Senior Usher True Christian™ missionary to the Unsaved Kingdom A very nice young man
True Christian™
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Posts: 15,647
Join Date: Sep 2006
Location: South Yorkshire, hotbed of sin
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Re: Where Have You Been? -
10-14-2007, 01:57 PM
Quote:
Originally Posted by Pastor Ezekiel
Of course not. My sinful mother's side of the family. Thanks for bringing up a very painful subject.
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Oh. It figures that someone like that would be related to a woman.
O Lord our God, help us to tear their soldiers to bloody shreds with our shells; help us to cover their smiling fields with the pale forms of their patriot dead; help us to drown the thunder of the guns with the shrieks of their wounded, writhing in pain; help us to lay waste their humble homes with a hurricane of fire; help us to wring the hearts of their unoffending widows with unavailing grief; help us to turn them out roofless with little children to wander unfriended the wastes of their desolated land in rags and hunger and thirst, sports of the sun flames of summer and the icy winds of winter, broken in spirit, worn with travail, imploring Thee for the refuge of the grave and denied it--for our sakes who adore Thee, Lord, blast their hopes, blight their lives, protract their bitter pilgrimage, make heavy their steps, water their way with their tears, stain the white snow with the blood of their wounded feet! We ask it, in the spirit of love, of Him Who is the Source of Love, and Who is the ever-faithful refuge and friend of all that are sore beset and seek His aid with humble and contrite hearts. Amen.
God being truth, justice, goodness, beauty, power, and life, man is falsehood, iniquity, evil, ugliness, impotence, and death. God being master, man is the slave. Incapable of finding justice, truth, and eternal life by his own effort, he can attain them only through a divine revelation... he who desires to worship God must harbor no childish illusions about the matter, but bravely renounce his liberty and humanity.
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Christian Poet Emeritus
Forum Member
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Posts: 1,694
Join Date: Nov 2006
Location: Near to Him
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Re: Where Have You Been? -
10-18-2007, 05:41 AM
Worth to read any such poem aloud. Read all poetry aloud.
Poetry is about language and inflection. Good example, Zeke.
Sorry about beans here.
http://img156.imageshack.us/my.php?i...ound203jk2.swf
PP
Quote:
Originally Posted by Pastor Ezekiel
This was my grandfather's favorite poem. He was a farmer, and he was a commie.
SOYBEANS
The October air was warm and musky, blowing
Over brown fields, heavy with the fragrance
Of freshly combined beans, the breath of harvest.
He was pulling a truckload onto the scales
At the elevator near the rail siding north of town
When a big Cadillac drove up. A man stepped out,
Wearing a three-piece suit and a gold pinky ring.
The man said he had just invested a hundred grand
In soybeans and wanted to see what they looked like.
The farmer stared at the man and was quiet, reaching
For the tobacco in the rear pocket of his jeans,
Where he wore his only ring, a threadbare circle rubbed
By working cans of dip and long hours on the backside
Of a hundred acre run. He scooped up a handful
Of small white beans, the pearls of the prairie, saying:
Soybeans look like a foot of water on the field in April
When you're ready to plant and can't get in;
Like three kids at the kitchen table
Eating macaroni and cheese five nights in a row,
Or like a broken part on the combine when
Your credit with the implement dealer is nearly tapped.
Soybeans look like prayers bouncing off the ceiling
When prices on the Chicago grain market start to drop;
Or like your old man's tears when you tell him
How much the land might bring for subdivisions.
Soybeans look like the first good night of sleep in weeks
When you unload at the elevator and the kids get Christmas.
He spat a little juice on the tire of the Cadillac,
Laughing despite himself and saying to the man:
Now maybe you can tell me what a hundred grand looks like.
-- Thomas Alan Orr
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