Inspiration for Today's World

Category: Poetry (Page 1 of 5)

Pity the Nation

Pity the nation whose people are sheep
And whose shepherds mislead them

Pity the nation whose leaders are liars
Whose sages are silenced
And whose bigots haunt the airwaves

Pity the nation that raises not its voice
Except to praise conquerors
And acclaim the bully as hero
And aims to rule the world
By force and by torture

Pity the nation that knows
No other language but its own
And no other culture but its own

Pity the nation whose breath is money
And sleeps the sleep of the too well fed

Pity the nation oh pity the people
who allow their rights to erode
and their freedoms to be washed away

My country, tears of thee
Sweet land of liberty!

~ Lawrence Ferlinghetti 

Present Tense

It was spring, but it was summer I wanted,

the warm days, and the great outdoors.

It was summer, but it was fall I wanted,

the colorful leaves, and the cool, dry air.

It was fall, but it was winter I wanted,

the beautiful snow, and the joy of the holiday season.

It was winter, but it was spring I wanted,

the warmth and the blossoming of nature.

I was a child, but it was adulthood I wanted,

the freedom and respect.

I was 20, but it was 30 I wanted,

to be mature, and sophisticated.

I was middle-aged, but it was 20 I wanted,

the youth and the free spirit.

I was retired, but it was middle-age I wanted,

the presence of mind without limitations.

My life was over, and I never got what I wanted.

~ Jason Lehman

Jason Lehman wrote this poem when he was 14 years old.  He sent it to Abigail Van Buren who verified Jason’s age and ran the story in her column “Dear Abby” on February 14, 1989.

 

I Am Free

Don’t grieve for me, for now, I’m free, to follow the path that God made for me.

I took His hand when I heard Him call, I turned my back and left it all.

I could not stay another day, to love, to laugh, to work, or play. 

Tasks left undone must stay that way, For I found peace, at last, that day.

If my parting has left a void, then fill it with remembering joy.

A friendship shared, a laugh, a kiss, oh yes, these things I too will miss.

Be not burdened with hearts of sorrow, my wish for you is the hope of tomorrow.

My life’s been full, I’ve savored much, good friends, good times, a loved one’s touch.

Perhaps my time has seemed much too brief, don’t lengthen it now with undue grief.

Lift up your heart and share with me, God wants me now — He’s set me free.

~ Author Unknown

In memory of Jeanette Margaret Gold

(June 6, 1941 – October 3, 2022)

Epitaph

When I die
Give what’s left of me away
To children
And old men that wait to die.
And if you need to cry,
Cry for your brother
Walking the street beside you.
And when you need me,
Put your arms
Around anyone
And give them
What you need to give to me.

I want to leave you something,
Something better
Than words
Or sounds.

Look for me
In the people I’ve known
Or loved,
And if you cannot give me away,
At least let me live on your eyes
And not on your mind.

You can love me most
By letting
Hands touch hands,
By letting
Bodies touch bodies,
And by letting go
Of children
That need to be free.

Love doesn’t die,
People do.
So, when all that’s left of me
Is love,
Give me away.

~ Merrit Malloy

In Memory of Lawrence David Sinclair (August 26. 1943 – June 14, 2020)

Tis a Fearful Thing

‘Tis a fearful thing
to love what death can touch.
A fearful thing
to love, to hope, to dream, to be –
to be,
And oh, to lose.
A thing for fools, this,
And a holy thing,
a holy thing
to love.
For your life has lived in me,
your laugh once lifted me,
your word was gift to me.
To remember this brings painful joy.
‘Tis a human thing, love,
a holy thing, to love
what death has touched.

~Yehuda HaLevi (1075 – 1141)

In Memory of Nancy Potter

(October 7, 1954 – October 23, 2020)

When Jesus Came to Birmingham

When Jesus came to Golgotha, they hanged Him on a tree,
They drove great nails through hands and feet, and made a Calvary;
They crowned Him with a crown of thorns, red were His wounds and deep,
For those were crude and cruel days, and human flesh was cheap.

When Jesus came to Birmingham, they simply passed Him by.
They would not hurt a hair of Him, they only let Him die;
For men had grown more tender, and they would not give Him pain,
They only just passed down the street, and left Him in the rain.

Still Jesus cried, ‘Forgive them, for they know not what they do,
And still it rained the winter rain that drenched Him through and through;
The crowds went home and left the streets without a soul to see,
And Jesus crouched against a wall, and cried for Calvary.

~ Geoffrey A. Studdert-Kennedy (1883-1929) – Matthew 25:31-46

The Bridge Builder

An old man going a lone highway,
Came, at the evening cold and gray,
To a chasm vast and deep and wide.
Through which was flowing a sullen tide
The old man crossed in the twilight dim,
The sullen stream had no fear for him;
But he turned when safe on the other side
And built a bridge to span the tide.

“Old man,” said a fellow pilgrim near,
“You are wasting your strength with building here;
Your journey will end with the ending day,
You never again will pass this way;
You’ve crossed the chasm, deep and wide,
Why build this bridge at evening tide?”

The builder lifted his old gray head;
“Good friend, in the path I have come,” he said,
“There followed after me to-day
A youth whose feet must pass this way.
This chasm that has been as naught to me
To that fair-haired youth may a pitfall be;
He, too, must cross in the twilight dim;
Good friend, I am building this bridge for him!”

~ Will Allen Dromgoole

Christ Has No Hands but Our Hands

Christ has no hands but our hands to do His work today

He has no feet but our feet to lead men in the way

He has no tongue but our tongue to tell men how He died

He has no help but our help to bring them to His side.

We are the only Bible the careless world will read,

We are the sinner’s gospel; we are the scoffer’s creed;

We are the Lord’s last message, given in word and deed;

What if the type is crooked? What if the print is blurred?

What if our hands are busy with other work than His?

What if our feet are walking where sin’s allurement is?

What if our tongue is speaking of things His lips would spurn?

How can we hope to help Him or welcome His return?

~Annie Johnston Flint

A Bright New World

We feel so sad when those we love
Are touched by death’s dard hand,
But it would ease our sorrow
If we could but understand
That death is just a gateway
That all men must pass through
And on the other side of death,
In a world that’s bright and new,
Or loved ones wait to welcome us
To that land free from all tears
Where joy becomes eternal
And Time is not counted by years.

~Helen Steiner Rice

In memory of John Liutkus (June 20, 1959 – February 18, 2018)

The Parting Glass (Traditional)

Oh all the money that e’er I spent
I spent it in good company
And all the harm that e’er I’ve done
Alas, it was to none but me
And all I’ve done for want of wit
To memory now I can’t recall
So fill to me the parting glass
Good night and joy be with you all

Oh all the comrades that e’er I’ve had
Are sorry for my going away
And all the sweethearts that e’er I’ve had
Would wish me one more day to stay
But since it falls unto my lot
That I should rise and you should not
I’ll gently rise and I’ll softly call
Good night and joy be with you all

~The Waylin’ Jenneys

In Memory of Constance E. Hansen

(March 21, 1967 – April 24, 2017)

 

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