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Not Seeing A Category "Poetry"


Neighbor

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LAUGH, AND THE WORLD LAUGHS WITH YOU
BY ELLA WHEELER WILCOX.

Laugh, and the world laughs with you, 
  Weep, and you weep alone, 
For the brave old earth must borrow its mirth ; 
  It has trouble enough of its own.
Sing, and the hills will answer, 
  Sigh, it is lost on the air ; 
The echoes redound to a joyful sound 
  And shrink from voicing care. 

Rejoice, and men will seek you, 
  Grieve, and they turn and go ; 
They want full measure of all your pleasure, 
  But they do not want your woe. 
Be glad, and your friends are many, 
  Be sad, and you lose them all ; 
There are none to decline your nectared wine,
  But alone you must drink life's gall. 

Feast, and your halls are crowded, 
  Fast, and the world goes by, 
Forget and forgive—it helps you live, 
  But no man can help you die !
There is room in the halls of pleasure 
  For a long and lordly train, 
But, one by one, we must all march on, 
  Through the narrow aisle of pain.

...................................

Or as one less given to waxing forth  once put it; "What if this is as good As it gets?"

It is all better than I deserve.

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  • Neighbor changed the title to Not Seeing A Category "Poetry"

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On 10/30/2023 at 7:07 AM, Neighbor said:

one less given to waxing forth

"Life is a maybe
Death is for sure

Sin is the cause
Christ is the Cure"............:)

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On 10/31/2023 at 1:07 AM, Neighbor said:

Not Seeing A Category "Poetry"

Dost thou seek a category

Just to host some poetry?

Hast thou an earn'st desire

Yearning that which you require?

 

Methinks 't would be a shame

To have such a category name,

When poets within our midst

Can just publish as thou didst.

 

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6 hours ago, Michael37 said:

Dost thou seek a category

Just to host some poetry?

Hast thou an earn'st desire

Yearning that which you require?

 

Methinks 't would be a shame

To have such a category name,

When poets within our midst

Can just publish as thou didst.

 

Another poet that don't know-it!..........default_cool2.gif.43fa5676d9dd86b2402e7c6b9eef06ff.gif

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Autumn is a Greek sea,
A summation of wet leaves,
Gathered wicks of sunset,
A hypocaust of warm water,
That lies beneath our feet,
Incense from the Sea of Crete,
Risen to the airy suggestive.

Autumn is a word in the mind, fallen leaf-like to the mouth,
How like the orange rind, our ancient past is shriveled under pillars.

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  • 3 months later...

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Time has got stuck on the run.

Time is pressuring to get things done.

Time is burning down to the wire.

Time is burning all refining fire.

Time to be now all we should.

Time to search He Who is good.

Time to kneel on floor plant face.

Time to finish the human race.

Time to revamp reality.

Time to finally be sin free.

 

Time to count sheep and point out goats.

Time to do righteous with light on don’ts.

Time to record with eyes everywhere.

Time to hear testaments; censor, don’t you dare.

Time to tell all of sin; why they fell.

Time to tell time of the countdown to hell.

Time is a trial, we all are guilty.

Forever tortured, unless Jesus you plead.

Time won’t let go, God in control.

“Time to go,” God says so; you already know.

Edited by Mark; Christ made.
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And  one many had to learn at one time or another for a school class credit, an extra Biblical poem  of what awaits and one's desire for setting it's course of passage.

Crossing the Bar 

BY ALFRED, LORD TENNYSON

"Sunset and evening star,

And one clear call for me!

And may there be no moaning of the bar,

      When I put out to sea,

 But such a tide as moving seems asleep,

      Too full for sound and foam,

When that which drew from out the boundless deep

      Turns again home.

 Twilight and evening bell,

      And after that the dark!

And may there be no sadness of farewell,

      When I embark;

For tho' from out our bourne of Time and Place

      The flood may bear me far,

I hope to see my Pilot face to face

      When I have crost the bar."

 

 

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My all time favorite  from America though is one that is apt so apt for today's world; "Mending Wall". Though I favored it even in my youth spent amongst the boulder stones and walls between pasturelands and orchards I never realized it was also a telling of the great dispute around the world of this day. That  of walls and barriers and  whether one will forego their own desire or thinking to  comfort a neighbor in theirs.

Seems to me there is a touch  of Biblical upbringing that advances within this written effort of the mindset, a pondering and a temptation too. With that here is Mending Wall, by Robert Frost:

Mending Wall

BY ROBERT FROST

Something there is that doesn’t love a wall,

That sends the frozen-ground-swell under it,

And spills the upper boulders in the sun;

And makes gaps even two can pass abreast.

The work of hunters is another thing:

I have come after them and made repair

Where they have left not one stone on a stone,

But they would have the rabbit out of hiding,

To please the yelping dogs. The gaps I mean,

No one has seen them made or heard them made,

But at spring mending-time we find them there.

I let my neighbor know beyond the hill;

And on a day we meet to walk the line

And set the wall between us once again.

We keep the wall between us as we go.

To each the boulders that have fallen to each.

And some are loaves and some so nearly balls

We have to use a spell to make them balance:

‘Stay where you are until our backs are turned!’

We wear our fingers rough with handling them.

Oh, just another kind of out-door game,

One on a side. It comes to little more:

There where it is we do not need the wall:

He is all pine and I am apple orchard.

My apple trees will never get across

And eat the cones under his pines, I tell him.

He only says, ‘Good fences make good neighbors.’

Spring is the mischief in me, and I wonder

If I could put a notion in his head:

‘Why do they make good neighbors? Isn’t it

Where there are cows? But here there are no cows.

Before I built a wall I’d ask to know

What I was walling in or walling out,

And to whom I was like to give offense.

Something there is that doesn't love a wall,

That wants it down.’ I could say ‘Elves’ to him,

But it’s not elves exactly, and I’d rather

He said it for himself. I see him there

Bringing a stone grasped firmly by the top

In each hand, like an old-stone savage armed.

He moves in darkness as it seems to me,

Not of woods only and the shade of trees.

He will not go behind his father’s saying,

And he likes having thought of it so well

He says again, ‘Good fences make good neighbors.’  -

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Holy Spirit wash over me.

Prince of peace calm surged sea.

Armed armada keep at bay.

Sail us home along God’s Way.

Shimmer water with Lord’s light.

Glimmer daughters Zion height.

Land ho, the promised land to see;

Held dear dreamt reality.

Christ to reign hearts, here on Earth.

Row hard lads, give all our worth.

Bad armed armada takes a shot.

Fear never: Christ’s blood we’re bought.

Foes gnash teeth, volleys fly.

“Shield of faith,” we war cry!

Foes fail war, yet battles try:

Deceive and trick and steal and lie.

 

Look to heaven, God is good.

On God’s Word, we tall stood.

Likewise Lucifer fell.

Satan sealed fate in hell.

Armed armada sank in end.

Peace of mind, heart on the mend.

Jesus lighthouse bring us home.

Remake Earth, refreshing poem.

Holy Spirit wash over me.

Love defeating all scary.

God’s overwhelming victory,

Lord’s everlasting eternity,

Forever won finality,

Jesus makes me clean, safe, free.

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                 Batter my heart, three person'd God (Holy Sonnet 14)

                                        John Donne

                                       1572 –1631

           Batter my heart, three-personed God, for you
           As yet but knock, breathe, shine, and seek to mend;
           That I may rise, and stand, o'erthrow me, and bend
           Your force to break, blow, burn, and make me new.
           
           I, like an usurped town, to another due,
           Labour to admit you, but Oh, to no end.
           Reason, your viceroy in me, me should defend,
           But is captived, and proves weak or untrue.
          
           Yet dearly I love you, and would be loved fain,
           But am betrothed unto your enemy:
          
           Divorce me, untie or break that knot again,
           Take me to you, imprison me, for I,
           Except you enthrall me, never shall be free,
           Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me.


(an understanding help to the unlearned as myself)

JOHN DONNE AND THE PARADOX: AN ANALYSIS OF “BATTER MY
HEART, THREE-PERSON’D GOD”
By Lily Daniels
A paradox is a statement that appears contradictory but ultimately makes sense. “Sonnet XIV:
Batter my heart, three person’d God” (1632) by John Donne reflects the many paradoxes within
the Bible and Christian faith. Read within the context of his religious beliefs and the rest of the
Holy Sonnets, “Batter my heart, three-person’d God” is a poem that exhibits Donne’s theology
of God and the process of salvation. The speaker affirms that the power of the triune God is
required to break the bonds of sin. He finds freedom from sin in submitting to God’s will, and he
finds innocence in God’s act of saving love (lines 13-14). In the Bible, there exists a tension
between the holy nature of God who judges and the merciful nature of God who also saves.
Similarly, in this poem, there exists a tension between conflicting poetic devices. Donne uses
diction, sound devices and form, figurative language, and explicit paradoxes to illustrate these
conflicting statements about the Christian life.  The poem demonstrates that the speaker eventually
understands these complex, theological concepts.
Donne was an Anglican clergyman who had a deep understanding of God and the Bible,
and he wrote many religious and secular works in the seventeenth century (Poetry Foundation).
The Holy Sonnets are a collection of nineteen religious poems published after Donne’s death.
Written around 1610, amid a time of religious conflict in England and a time of personal trials,
they are a product of Donne’s “devout fitts [that] come and go away” (Sonnet XIX, line 12). The
subject matter of the Holy Sonnets revolves around God, sin, judgment, mercy, and salvation..

There's more.................(paradoxes)

 

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