"fellowship" poems
I would have taken the easy path
But that would leave no room for glory
I would have picked out a comfortable life
But that isn't God’s kind of story
I would have followed a prettier road
But missed the most beautiful way
I would have clung to familiar things
But lived out my days in the grey
I would have chosen what’s stable
But grown cold, apathetic and bored
I would have sought out earth’s riches
But lost all that in heaven is stored
I would have liked more successes
But not learned so quickly of grace
I would have seen myself praised more
But given up knowing God’s face
I would have tied all my loose ends
But not known it’s He Who brings peace
I would have wanted for happier times
But traded a joy that can’t cease
I would have opted for normal
But not tasted rare delicacies
I would have preferred a man’s love
But been robbed of Divine intimacy
He’s chosen for me the high road
More jagged, more narrow and steep
So now I must travel this difficult way
Ever knowing it leads to the deep
Now I must choose to cherish His path
And trust Him to walk with me there
Now I must hasten to take up my cross
The fellowship of His sufferings to share
For one day this life will be over
And all my afflictions will end
It is then I will see what all this is for
In my Bridegroom, my Savior, my Friend
Jan 6, 2016
Jan 6, 2016 at 11:12 AM UTC
In the darkness of constricting depression
I begged the Lord to give me joy even if it killed me,
and He promised me it most assuredly would,
for this is joy’s mantra:
“Death to self!”
It is simply not possible to know the deepest kind of joy
until we have experienced the anguish of death to self
with a cruel stake of affliction though our hearts.
For it is there on the altar of sacrifice
when we have finally surrendered what is most dear to us,
when we have willingly brought our costliest gifts
to lay humbly at the feet of the King,
that we are raised up to know firsthand His resurrection joy
through the fellowship of sharing in His sufferings.
No one who has ever truly learned that
“to live is Christ and to die is gain”
has ever escaped this path.
Find me even one.
There is nothing quite like rejection to teach us about God’s love,
nothing quite like loss to teach us of His joy,
nothing like storms to teach peace,
nothing like ruined plans to teach patience,
nothing like loneliness to teach kindness,
nothing like failure to teach us of His goodness,
nothing like betrayal to teach faithfulness,
nothing like being completely misunderstood to teach gentleness
and nothing like humiliation to teach us self-control.
Why is this?
Because there is nothing like pain to chase us to Jesus
and to teach us to rely so helplessly on His Spirit’s filling.
And when we have His filling, we will know His fruit.
Aug 3, 2017
Aug 3, 2017 at 7:36 PM UTC
Child of mine please know
All things have a season
All things have a time
If stars can fall, then crash and burn
Humans fight and fail to learn
Then time has nought to teach
The blind will never learn to see
And the deaf will fail to hear
Even mighty rivers run dry
And seas can also die
Today
my heart stopped beating
But time has taught me this...
Love is where you find it
Follow joy wherever you can
Hope can spring eternal
Fellowship remains in man
Sep 1, 2016
Sep 1, 2016 at 3:24 PM UTC
Sincere reassuring hugs,
Touching and
being touched,
Caresses shared,
Easy laughter exuded,
Intimate whispers
of affection exchanged,
A fellowship of souls,
Sweet Companionship
spread, like frosting on a cake.
As comfortable and reassuring
as your favorite old wool sweater
on a chilly night's weather.
Jun 27, 2017
Jun 27, 2017 at 8:22 PM UTC
My Arwen lies over Belegaer
Beyond the Straight Road, lies my Evenstar
Across the Endless Sea, in Aman she lies
She wouldn't stay here just to love, but to die
I remember her here, here in Endor
When the beacons of Gondor burned bright.
I remember her here, once beside me
In the days before the long night
In Imladris fair, as Estel I was raised
In ignorance there, I spent by blissful days
I lived, and I learned, and yet never yearned
For she from whom I now feel so spurned
I've had my Éowyns, but none quite compare
To She, my lady, so radiant, so fair
At Cerin Amroth we pledged our love
To all, ourselves, and the Ainur above
But the Darkness again spread
Morgoth's mission again led
The Fellowship was wrought
The battles all fought
The Age of the Firstborn was ended
The Age of the Hildor ascended
Our world together was split
And really, that was just it
She could stay here, forever, be mortal
But ever so closely lay Mithlond ,the portal
To a life without end, I can blame her hardly
I guess Barahir's tale was never to be
What’s this? You say she’s not yet set sail?
But how can I stop her? Our parting was so stale!
Sure Elrond's presence and Galadriel's glare
May have done oh so much to damper our parting
But as she goes afar I know I can't go there
And her expressed frigidity, that wound is still smarting
What should I do for her I adore?
Run to the Grey Havens and stop the White Ship?
But so much I must do, right here in Gondor,
A King I can become, as my Queen give me the slip
And the spirits are howling,
The white tree is burning?!
My power, my people
BUT I CAN'T STOP THIS YEARNING
Oh what shall I do? TO ERU ABOVE
I have so much work, but I so miss my Love
The tears, they are welling, the Ship has set sail
In all my adventures, in truth I have failed!
For what am I worth? No King has Returned
And without Hope is Gondor, and the Stewards have burned
Denthar departed, the mighty horn split
The mighty White City left here to sit
I could let it fall into disarray,
Again a Ranger, I could slip away
To die like the Ents, forever, no Wife
Is there nothing to save me from this strife?
A new dawn is rising, a new age begun
My hopes might still clear
with the new rising Sun
I see its my duty, as Arathorn's son… what Isildur started, I must see done
but still I mourn my loss… that beautiful star, which now like all others, I must admire from afar.
~D. B. Guy
09/02/2007
Nov 3, 2012
Nov 3, 2012 at 2:21 AM UTC
A fueling, flashing fulgent, furnace, fulgurous, frothy, fumes and feathery flakes,
I do not speak of waves of snow, hoary frost, or ice, a cold gelare or even frozen lakes!
Formidable, furrows, fructifying, functioning fruition to foremost fondly found a flaming,
I revel not in such destruction but choices for my naming!
For flowers flow fields forever, forswearing funneling fjords finitely, fire fray’s forests furthermost,
Instructing in the arts of language, for I am your gracious host!
Fakir formulates factious forms fading flummoxed into fury, a fugacious fusible and furtive fleeting feigning furiosity,
A deep ditch dug, tight as pug, wrapped blanket snub though not a flub, all perspicacity!
Finds frosty frore a frozen freezing faction for fusty flaming feasance,
Fomorian fantasy of formidable faggoting, facient up to fancying, fancying, furnaced flesh fluidity finds itself factitivity, facets for fabulists from the faint familiarity,
Relating cold to heat as such, requires but a human touch, apologize I do you see for all my clueless severity!
Fans of all the falconry, who fallow fields of family, falter for a fallacy, falling into infamy as forgone flame frontogenesis, fatigues a Faustian felony, for which fate finds is fastigiated foolery, febrile features featly and yet furiously, favonian fear of fellowship fiendishly, figures foal to fatherly, finally fiddle flinchingly, although not so too furtively;
I finagle in my filigree!
Jun 20, 2016
Jun 20, 2016 at 1:13 PM UTC
Corny Hornbutt went to town, looking for relations
ran right into Celibut, who flees from fornication.
***** cornbutt, keep it up
leader of the nation
make the ladies loose their lunch
and squirm with indignation!
Corny went to fellowship to woo his lovely Celi
mortified was Celibut, who punched him in the belly.
Corny Hornbutt, keep it up
leader of the nation
make the ladies loose their lunch
and squirm with indignation!
Corny saw his life flash by and knew the end was nearing
asked for pardon from his sin, as hell-fire he was fearing.
Corny Hornbutt, keep it up
leader of the nation
make the ladies loose their lunch
and squirm with indignation!
Corny saw his wretched ways and in this revelation
The Lord Almighty heard his cry and saved him from damnation.
Corny Hornbutt, keep it up
leader of the nation
Reached for Love, received the Grace
was made a new creation!
Corny Hornbutt was renewed and now he's Pastor Corny
Celi married Hornibutt and named their first-born Forny.
Corny Hornbutt, keep it up
lead us from dam-nation
Help the ladies serve the lunch
to all the congregation!
Sep 16, 2013
Sep 16, 2013 at 11:34 AM UTC
If a man sees beauty
And approaches with intent
He soon retreats
In fear of brains
If a woman sees brains
And approaches in fellowship
She soon retreats
In fear of beauty
- Lonely
Dec 30, 2016
Dec 30, 2016 at 1:33 PM UTC
*stacking the arrows in piles
a triangle of fuego
furnaces blaze fire
infinite reminders
of the morning after
shafts of light
drift from window panes
remake our names in
god’s slumbering veins
from here to there a whisper
or was it a word
fellow companions
have you heard
the threadbare sisters
took their turns
climbing mountains in order
that we could learn
the ways
of green hearted sun-scrapers
sweet little dangers
fellow death chasers
full of music
givers of blooming veils
bouquets of snow and hail
almond shaped eyes
resplendent thighs
and a mind as pure as a lake
during an alaskan winter
in the frozen splinter
trees are taken from their roots
the women are bleeding
weaving you the meat and the story
outsiders are cast from clay into statues
with feminine bodies
curving like cotton candy
i choose to impress you
repeat the compliments
that land on empty stomachs
string together words
like a rosary of sweet nothings
simple deeds give thrilling feats
a chance to restore their honor
purity is unwashed in ***** soil
as i am cut from the cloth of the earth
our shirts are pressed at birth
white light forming fellowship
dimples in the cheeks of the mother
the earth’s bones torn out from under
the way we made ourselves invisible
the minute we realized our accents were noticeable
our actions were abominable
how could we ever repay
the generosity we were treated to
our ultimate needs are met by poetry
upon a ridge a silent figure wept
and held his head upon a bed of cement*
Jul 14, 2017
Jul 14, 2017 at 2:17 AM UTC
Though in dexterity my physically challenged carpenter father,
Than the physically fit proves better,as a source to his anger,
With contemporaries a level ground he enjoyed never!
From late childhood there was one thing that me used to bother, why my so discriminated father
On his turn true to cultural dictates,ill treats my domestic chores saddled mother
And heeds not her say though by the sweat of their brow
As responsible parents they were happily bringing my sister and I together?
I still wonder why ,why ,why my sister who has IQ
On par with me if not better,to help out mother
Suffering a cold shoulder even by her mom was denied the right to pursue education further
While I was given a chance to prove a man of letter(s)?
I remember, crossing many a pool, barefooted, I used to trek
A long distance to a nearby town's a school,
Where for my provincial and shabby clothes I was seen a fool
By the relatively rich in showing courtesy far from cool.
Though stationery they didn't lack , sad,I had a hand tied behind my back.
Alas,up on joining campus where I yearned for the sagacious a chance
There too in my class,I was looked down by students
Hailing from families of the top brass.
When I went abroad for a higher education enjoying fellowship and donation
Worse still, I met many, colour has coloured whose vision.
Ironically my dissertation was drawing attention
To why should the broad mass be standers by
And with ill-fate marked die
While the favoured ,racist and the corrupt few gobble over 3/4 of the pie? /
Feb 8, 2016
Feb 8, 2016 at 3:11 AM UTC
From the moment I walked in,
I felt the piercing eyes.
Same eyes that nailed Jesus to the wooden cross.
Jesus said, by this,
all man will know you are my disciples,
if you have love one to another.
Pharisees, Pharisees, Pharisees.
Oh, how the mighty have fallen into apostasy.
Like the Nephilim which came & has yet to come again.
Surely heading back to the beginning, the Days of Noah.
The entire time I sat in those fold-up chairs,
my heart couldn't stop racing.
Perhaps it was the spirits aligning to seek whom they may devour.
Heard many vain repetitions today,
didn't Jesus say that's what heathens do?
For they think that they will be heard for their many words.
We all crucified the Lord Jesus Christ.
We have all blasphemed.
One perfect Godman died on our behalf,
then rose 3 days later to break the curse.
Sacrificial love.
Let us not break bread & drink grape juice.
Guess you never knew that's symbology for cannibalism.
In which He never commanded us to do.
Simply two commands were left.
Love God with all your heart,
with all your soul & with all your mind.
Secondly, love your neighbor as you love yourself.
Jul 9, 2018
Jul 9, 2018 at 11:42 PM UTC
A Rock there is whose homely front
The passing traveller slights;
Yet there the glow-worms hang their lamps,
Like stars, at various heights;
And one coy Primrose to that Rock
The vernal breeze invites.
What hideous warfare hath been waged,
What kingdoms overthrown,
Since first I spied that Primrose-tuft
And marked it for my own;
A lasting link in Nature’s chain
From highest heaven let down!
The flowers, still faithful to the stems,
Their fellowship renew;
The stems are faithful to the root,
That worketh out of view;
And to the rock the root adheres
In every fibre true.
Close clings to earth the living rock,
Though threatening still to fall:
The earth is constant to her sphere;
And God upholds them all:
So blooms this lonely Plant, nor dreads
Her annual funeral.
* * * * * *
Here closed the meditative strain;
But air breathed soft that day,
The hoary mountain-heights were cheered,
The sunny vale looked gay;
And to the Primrose of the Rock
I gave this after-lay.
I sang-Let myriads of bright flowers,
Like Thee, in field and grove
Revive unenvied;—mightier far,
Than tremblings that reprove
Our vernal tendencies to hope,
Is God’s redeeming love;
That love which changed-for wan disease,
For sorrow that had bent
O’er hopeless dust, for withered age—
Their moral element,
And turned the thistles of a curse
To types beneficent.
Sin-blighted though we are, we too,
The reasoning Sons of Men,
From one oblivious winter called
Shall rise, and breathe again;
And in eternal summer lose
Our threescore years and ten.
To humbleness of heart descends
This prescience from on high,
The faith that elevates the just,
Before and when they die;
And makes each soul a separate heaven
A court for Deity.
5.4k
godspeed, dystopian mind.
alls well that ends well
in the war against self loathing.
call upon historic impulses
electrical? fanatical. transfixed. fatal.
groping,
whipser,
intention?
weakness.
axiom? blight. corruption. hunger.
intent? destruction. hopeless. death.
solution?
fellowship.
truth.
transparent.
godspeed, dystopian mind
and don't come back.
Jun 10, 2013
Jun 10, 2013 at 10:56 PM UTC
The pain.
The agony.
The tenseness of your body.
The rage.
Everything inside is burning.
Everything raging inside.
Everything out of control.
Everything inside is chaos.
Your body is mad.
Your body is crazy.
Your body is weak.
Your body is terrified.
To cry alone.
To lay alone.
To pray alone.
To die alone.
Rage going crazy.
Rage is on fire.
Rage is mad.
Rage is taking over.
Bliss is sweet.
Bliss is perfect.
Bliss is rare.
Bliss is fleeting.
Fear is hateful.
Fear is terrible.
Fear is common.
Fear is there.
Weakness taking over.
Weakness fighting for you.
Weakness dying inside you.
Weakness is you.
Fighting inside consumes you.
Fighting outside loathes you.
Fighting everywhere reaps you.
Fighting is you.
Failure isn't an option.
Failure is a path.
Failure is in us all.
Failure is imminent.
Leadership is in us all.
Leadership is dangerous.
Leadership is for a good soul.
Leadership isn't meant for all.
Goodness is a great thing.
Goodness is an uncommon thing.
Goodness is hard to find.
Goodness is easy to make.
Brokenness is my thing.
Brokenness makes you stronger.
Brokenness builds you up.
Brokenness defines us all.
Happiness is so amazing.
Happiness makes us better.
Happiness makes us wake up.
Happiness is all we need.
Love is a wondrous being.
Love is only a rarity.
Love will fill your soul with goodness.
Love can make the worst the best.
For us all we shall be happy.
We will all be respectful.
We will all be happy.
We will all fail.
The key is to accept some defeats.
The key is to be all you can be.
The key is to disperse from bad.
The key is to embrace the greatness.
Nov 22, 2012
Nov 22, 2012 at 9:35 AM UTC
As I scale the slope
I note the melody of the wind
With its sweeping symphonic shifts
My nails grind against granite
Before flaking and falling into the abyss
Yet I persist
Upward along the lone path
Where the air recedes like tides
And frost forms fellowship upon my eyes
Before seeking to turn my sore limbs, frigid
Icily assuring each ache is anchored in anxiety
Which stems from the worn clothes of society
Yet as I climb, the fabric is discarded
Like old styles of yesteryear
Now basking in all my naturalness
I finally summit, my thoughts thankfully descend
My heart lifts up its scepter and then my chin
Beating with Brilliance it grins
Furls up it sleeves and wordlessly begins
The work of healing from within
Aug 4, 2018
Aug 4, 2018 at 8:28 PM UTC
My path is to be misunderstood
for my path is to learn the way of gentleness
My path is to be rejected
for my path is to learn the way of love
Nov 18, 2015
Nov 18, 2015 at 5:06 PM UTC
Even if love is never returned,
never even received,
it is never in vain
for love never fails
To love someone
though you mean nothing to them
may seem too cruel a burden
for the heart to bear
But the only thing worse
than not being loved
is to not love
And so the greatest tragedy
of love spurned or lost
would be to stop loving
For to cease loving
that which causes us pain
would be to let the pain win
But for as long as we love,
really love with Christ's own heart,
no matter what else happens
we win
Love without pain
remains unproven
and therefore is meaningless
But love through pain invokes
nothing less than the miraculous
and inspires even the incredulous
Only continued love
can redeem the pain of loving
and only a Perfect Love
can heal love's scalding wound
Nov 18, 2015
Nov 18, 2015 at 5:23 PM UTC
Lord,
Grant me the serenity to accept the things I can never control,
To accept the things that I can control.
To understand that we come together in fellowship-
And what a fellowship!
To not fear the game but respect it,
To not shoulder its burdens, but share it
To start every set with a prayer,
And honor each player
To be sporting and true-
Always giving the glory to You
Amen.
Feb 7, 2014
Feb 7, 2014 at 10:45 AM UTC
Once upon a time in a far off Village lived a Tribe of people called the "WITH-ERS". next were the Tribes named *Nearest, *Nearer, *Near, *Searchers and the *Lost.. The WITH-ERS LIVED in the very Center of the Tribal Areas. Each Tribe had it's boundaries marked by Barbed wire, Concrete blocks, Electric fences, Guard dogs, Warning signs, Armed Patrols, Flashing Lights and Laser beams... The *WITH-ERS Tribe Boundaries were marked by Every tree that GOD has ever made. Each Tree was always in full bloom and showing the brightest of Green.. Sweet, Soft Music came always from the Center of the WITHERS community, YET NO BAND could be seen.. The LIGHT from the EYES of each of the WITH-ERS tribe members seemed to glisten to ANY OBSERVER. When standing next to a WITH-ERS one could feel the Energy, love, fellowship and helpfulness that always seemed to be present. The WITH-ERS were envied, hated, despised, loved, adored, threatened, praised, and Talked about by ALL the Surrounding Tribes and they especially liked to call them "PECULIAR".. THE WITHERS* GLADLY ACCEPT any who "WOULD-CHOOSE" to join them...BY THE WAY,,,Which Tribe should we decide to JOIN,,,,THE CHOICE " IS OURS ".......
Aug 23, 2010
Aug 23, 2010 at 4:38 AM UTC
Hello Poetry is a blue place this calendar year
for we have seen many a good poet disappear
their inspiring words not around to delight in
of this expression the site is somewhat thin
Hello Poetry has experienced a considerable loss
gone all of that imagery so beautiful in gloss
the colors they deftly painted faded as they left
which makes the heart feel palpably bereft
Hello Poetry members those of excellent ink
missing from our writing fellowship's rink
we'll not forget the contribution they made
as each one of them showed the finest parade
Hello Poetry our brothers and sisters of the quill
departed us with yet more stanzas to spill
their individual styles we'll not sight again
truly a thought which is so downcast of refrain
Dec 24, 2016
Dec 24, 2016 at 5:12 AM UTC
Listening is relative.
Reading together is shallow.
Love is biased.
Reaching out is a myth.
Worship is noise.
Giving is a habit.
Church is a party.
Church is a half-way house.
Clapping is stepping on the cross.
Sitting is sin of omission.
Fellowship is exclusive.
The Cross is a decoration.
But God is still God.
Jesus
From Heaven or From Men?
Jul 13, 2014
Jul 13, 2014 at 7:52 AM UTC
I was raised by a pack of fools
Who proclaim Caucasians are the best.
And are glad to fight, at the drop of a hint
To put the whole matter to the test.
They have an entire joke routine
And descriptive names they repeat
In minimizing and insisting that
Their right to decent treatment isn’t real.
There are references to some animals
And unfunny comments about color.
The statements about characteristics
Of body and features always go together
With a special set of gross anecdotes
To cover any kind of non-Christian belief.
And the refusal to consider equality
As a decent attitude stands in bright relief.
Beneath all this horror, not very deep,
Lies a sickening river of hate and fear
That fails to improve as education is
Rejected year after disgusting year.
Pointing out the error of their ways
Might earn you a punch in the eye
But the bigot hangs on to their rage
And never gives fellowship a try.
The American Bigot claims to be
A staunch Christian all the way through
Which forces them to hate and cheat
And lie as much as Jesus would do.
Of course, we know that Jesus was
A preacher of love and acceptance
But it seems that bigots never quite
Made that Jesus’ acquaintance.
So, here we can see we need to add
Some terms to this kind of individual
Whose relationship to peace and love
Is at best slight, scant and residual.
We also need to append to their titles
Of masters of anger fear and prejudice
The unhealthy pallor of indecency,
Dishonesty, inhumanity and cowardice.
Apr 4, 2016
Apr 4, 2016 at 11:33 PM UTC
You can feel it as i speak
By the way i write when you read
That it is weird to be in your shoes
To infiltrate your mind, to see the truth
To experience the unique existence of being you.
But it is sort of sad
That with each visit i get mad
And repulsed
By the lack of trust
And the hate we take to tolerate love.
And we love ,but not ourselves
And we explore the void in search for help.
But i say Empathy is a lie
We must depend on each other
For the future to be bright
Fellowship won't be experienced untill you unite with the other.
Words Of Harfouchism.
Nov 3, 2018
Nov 3, 2018 at 11:38 AM UTC
trudging on the road of life
can be sometime so hard
and lonely.
I am grateful I am not alone.
Dec 20, 2016
Dec 20, 2016 at 8:56 PM UTC
Be thankful because you are blessed
Take nothing for granted being less
God loves all and that is a confess
Be thankful for food on your table
You are can be on your clothes and move in being able
Knowledge was stored in your years
You are blessed to have a loving family perhaps ones you never considered like family
I could go on and on
Thankful in having appreciation
Be thankful to God in the association
Be thankful from things on high
You have been given the breath of life from thy
No need for me to justify
There is no question to answer why
Thankful alone is what it states
This is something we all need to relate
Start appreciating one another
It doesn’t matter if you don’t know your sister or brother
Be thankful for what you have
It doesn’t matter if it is not much
The fact you have something, be thankful
Thanksgiving is about sharing and fellowship
But here’s the tip
Togetherness is encouraging one another with the message you can make it
Be thankful from the heart, a smile from the lips, and laughter in fun in appreciating any person
Be Thankful, Gracious, Supportive and Love
Nov 23, 2016
Nov 23, 2016 at 6:31 PM UTC