Saul Exercised Power Like A FBI Or CIA Agent?
It is said a leopard cannot change its spots.
Saul like an ancient homeland security official
exercised power like a modern FBI or CIA agent?
Please examine the evidence of Saul's extensive power.
Saul was present and sanctioned Stephen's execution. Acts 7.57-8: 1.
Saul went door-to-door looking for Christian felons. Acts 8: 3.
Saul was issued Christians arrest warrants. Acts 22: 4-5.
Saul believed he was serving God (the President and Nation) :
by enforcing the law and carrying out the orders
of the Jewish Sanhedrin (the Supreme Court) . Acts 22: 3.
Saul obviously had studied the laws of the Sanhedrin;
and received extensive 'field training' for those duties.
The very name Saul struck terror into first converted Christians.
Split imaging from the poem ‘Transformation Inquisition Saul Into Paul Of Tarsus'.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Related quotes
Transformation Inquisition Saul Into Paul Of Tarsus
What caused miraculous;
transformation inquisition
Saul into Paul of Tarsus?
Saul had previously hated persecuted;
Jews who converted to Christianity
with fanatical deadly holocaust passion?
Infamous Saul of Tarsus;
had one crazed goal
for all followers of Jesus.
To capture then bring to public trial execution;
all Christians he could lay his hands on.
Saul an elite member of the Sanhedrin even
instigated approved ancient equivalent;
of vigilante mob lynchings public stonings.
Saul actively present when first Christian
martyr Stephen was by an angry mob killed;
assumed responsibility of guarding clothes
of all who zealously to death stoned Stephen.
For is it not written?
'At this they covered their ears
and, yelling at the top of their voices,
they all rushed at him, (Stephen)
dragged him out of the city and began
to stone him. Meanwhile, the witnesses
laid their clothes at the feet
of a young man named Saul.
While they were stoning him, Stephen
prayed, 'Lord Jesus, receive my spirit.'
Then he fell on his knees
and cried out, 'Lord, do not hold this sin
against them.' When he had said this,
he fell asleep. (To death Stephen
was by the mob executed.) Acts 7: 57-60.
What did Saul think what then were his actions?
'Saul was there, giving approval to his death' Saul
for his part approved the mob murder of Stephen. Acts 8: 1.
Saul like a ravenous wolf after Stephen was martyred;
went door to door in Jerusalem finding Jews to arrest
[...] Read more
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Soboba
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[...] Read more
poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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Tale XXI
The Learned Boy
An honest man was Farmer Jones, and true;
He did by all as all by him should do;
Grave, cautious, careful, fond of gain was he,
Yet famed for rustic hospitality:
Left with his children in a widow'd state,
The quiet man submitted to his fate;
Though prudent matrons waited for his call,
With cool forbearance he avoided all;
Though each profess'd a pure maternal joy,
By kind attention to his feeble boy;
And though a friendly Widow knew no rest,
Whilst neighbour Jones was lonely and distress'd;
Nay, though the maidens spoke in tender tone
Their hearts' concern to see him left alone,
Jones still persisted in that cheerless life,
As if 'twere sin to take a second wife.
Oh! 'tis a precious thing, when wives are dead,
To find such numbers who will serve instead;
And in whatever state a man be thrown,
'Tis that precisely they would wish their own;
Left the departed infants--then their joy
Is to sustain each lovely girl and boy:
Whatever calling his, whatever trade,
To that their chief attention has been paid;
His happy taste in all things they approve,
His friends they honour, and his food they love;
His wish for order, prudence in affairs,
An equal temper (thank their stars!), are theirs;
In fact, it seem'd to be a thing decreed,
And fix'd as fate, that marriage must succeed:
Yet some, like Jones, with stubborn hearts and
hard,
Can hear such claims and show them no regard.
Soon as our Farmer, like a general, found
By what strong foes he was encompass'd round,
Engage he dared not, and he could not fly,
But saw his hope in gentle parley lie;
With looks of kindness then, and trembling heart,
He met the foe, and art opposed to art.
Now spoke that foe insidious--gentle tones,
And gentle looks, assumed for Farmer Jones:
'Three girls,' the Widow cried, 'a lively three
To govern well--indeed it cannot be.'
'Yes,' he replied, 'it calls for pains and care:
But I must bear it.'--'Sir, you cannot bear;
Your son is weak, and asks a mother's eye:'
'That, my kind friend, a father's may supply.'
[...] Read more
poem by George Crabbe
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Sobre Horizontes
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[...] Read more
poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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King Stephen
A FRAGMENT OF A TRAGEDY
ACT I.
SCENE I. Field of Battle.
Alarum. Enter King STEPHEN, Knights, and Soldiers.
Stephen. If shame can on a soldier's vein-swoll’n front
Spread deeper crimson than the battle's toil,
Blush in your casing helmets! for see, see!
Yonder my chivalry, my pride of war,
Wrench'd with an iron hand from firm array,
Are routed loose about the plashy meads,
Of honour forfeit. O that my known voice
Could reach your dastard ears, and fright you more!
Fly, cowards, fly! Glocester is at your backs!
Throw your slack bridles o'er the flurried manes,
Ply well the rowel with faint trembling heels,
Scampering to death at last!
First Knight. The enemy
Bears his flaunt standard close upon their rear.
Second Knight. Sure of a bloody prey, seeing the fens
Will swamp them girth-deep.
Stephen. Over head and ears,
No matter! 'Tis a gallant enemy;
How like a comet he goes streaming on.
But we must plague him in the flank, hey, friends?
We are well breathed, follow!
Enter Earl BALDWIN and Soldiers, as defeated.
Stephen. De Redvers!
What is the monstrous bugbear that can fright
Baldwin?
Baldwin. No scare-crow, but the fortunate star
Of boisterous Chester, whose fell truncheon now
Points level to the goal of victory.
This way he comes, and if you would maintain
Your person unaffronted by vile odds,
Take horse, my Lord.
Stephen. And which way spur for life?
Now I thank Heaven I am in the toils,
That soldiers may bear witness how my arm
Can burst the meshes. Not the eagle more
Loves to beat up against a tyrannous blast,
Than I to meet the torrent of my foes.
This is a brag, be 't so, but if I fall,
Carve it upon my 'scutcheon'd sepulchre.
On, fellow soldiers! Earl of Redvers, back!
Not twenty Earls of Chester shall brow-beat
The diadem. [Exeunt. Alarum.
SCENE II. Another part of the Field.
Trumpets sounding a Victory. Enter GLOCESTER. Knights, and Forces.
[...] Read more
poem by John Keats
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Saul
I.
Said Abner, ``At last thou art come! Ere I tell, ere thou speak,
``Kiss my cheek, wish me well!'' Then I wished it, and did kiss his cheek.
And he, ``Since the King, O my friend, for thy countenance sent,
``Neither drunken nor eaten have we; nor until from his tent
``Thou return with the joyful assurance the King liveth yet,
``Shall our lip with the honey be bright, with the water be wet.
``For out of the black mid-tent's silence, a space of three days,
``Not a sound hath escaped to thy servants, of prayer nor of praise,
``To betoken that Saul and the Spirit have ended their strife,
``And that, faint in his triumph, the monarch sinks back upon life.
II.
``Yet now my heart leaps, O beloved! God's child with his dew
``On thy gracious gold hair, and those lilies still living and blue
``Just broken to twine round thy harp-strings, as if no wild beat
``Were now raging to torture the desert!''
III.
Then I, as was meet,
Knelt down to the God of my fathers, and rose on my feet,
And ran o'er the sand burnt to powder. The tent was unlooped;
I pulled up the spear that obstructed, and under I stooped
Hands and knees on the slippery grass-patch, all withered and gone,
That extends to the second enclosure, I groped my way on
Till I felt where the foldskirts fly open. Then once more I prayed,
And opened the foldskirts and entered, and was not afraid
But spoke, ``Here is David, thy servant!'' And no voice replied.
At the first I saw nought but the blackness but soon I descried
A something more black than the blackness---the vast, the upright
Main prop which sustains the pavilion: and slow into sight
Grew a figure against it, gigantic and blackest of all.
Then a sunbeam, that burst thro' the tent-roof, showed Saul.
IV.
He stood as erect as that tent-prop, both arms stretched out wide
On the great cross-support in the centre, that goes to each side;
He relaxed not a muscle, but hung there as, caught in his pangs
And waiting his change, the king-serpent all heavily hangs,
Far away from his kind, in the pine, till deliverance come
With the spring-time,---so agonized Saul, drear and stark, blind and dumb.
V.
Then I tuned my harp,---took off the lilies we twine round its chords
Lest they snap 'neath the stress of the noon-tide---those sunbeams like swords!
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning
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Hadda Been Playing On The Jukebox
Written by allen ginsberg, performed by rage against the machine
It had to be flashin like the daily double
It had to be playin on tv
It had to be loud mouthed on the comedy hour
It had to be announced over loud speakers
The cia and mafia are in cahoots
It had to be said in old ladies language
It had to be said in american headlines
Kennedy stretched and smiled and got double crossed by lowlife goons and agents
Rich bankers with criminal connections
Dope pushers in cia working with dope pushers from cuba working with a big time
Syndicate from tampa, florida
And it had to be said with a big mouth
It had to be moaned over factory foghorns
It had to be chattered on car radio news broadcasts
It had to be screamed in the kitchen
It had to be yelled in the basement where uncles were fighting
It had to be howled on the streets by newsboys to bus conductors
It had to be foghorned into new york harbor
It had to echo onto hard hats
It had to turn up the volume in university ballrooms
It had to be written in library books, footnoted
It had to be in the headlines of the times and the mind
It had to be barked on tv
It had to be heard in alleys through ballroom doors
It had to be played on wire services
It had to be bells ringing
Comedians stopped dead in the middle of a joke in las vegas
It had to be fbi chief j. edgar hoover and frank costello syndicate
Mouthpiece meeting in central park, new york weekends,
Reported time magazine
It had to be the mafia and the cia together starting war on cuba,
Bay of pigs and poison assassination headlines
It had to be dope cops in the mafia
Who sold all their heroin in america
It had to be the fbi and organized crime working together
In cahoots against the commies
It had to be ringing on multinational cash registers
World-wide laundry for organized criminal money
It had to be the cia and the mafia and the fbi together
They were bigger than nixon
And they were bigger that war
It had to be a large room full of murder
It had to be a mounted ass- a solid mass of rage
A red hot pen
A scream in the back of the throat
It had to be a kid that can breathe
It had to be in rockefellers mouth
It had to be central intelligence, the family, allofthis, the agency mafia
It had to be organized crime
[...] Read more
song performed by Rage Against The Machine
Added by Lucian Velea
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Had To Be Playin On The Jukebox
It had to be flashin like the daily double
It had to be playin on tv
It had to be loud mouthed on the comedy hour
It had to be announced over loud speakers
The cia and mafia are in cahoots
It had to be said in old ladies language
It had to be said in american headlines
Kennedy stretched and smiled and got
Double crossed by lowlife goons and agents
Rich bankers with criminal connections
Dope pushers in cia working with dope pushers
From cuba working with a big time
Syndicate from tampa, florida
And it had to be said with a big mouth
It had to be moaned over factory foghorns
It had to be chattered on car radio news broadcasts
It had to be screamed in the kitchen
It had to be yelled in the basement where uncles were fighting
It had to be howled on the streets by newsboys to bus conductors
It had to be foghorned into new york harbor
It had to echo onto hard hats
It had to turn up the volume in university ballrooms
It had to be written in library books, footnoted
It had to be in the headlines of the times and the mind
It had to be barked on tv
It had to be heard in alleys through ballroom doors
It had to be played on wire services
It had to be bells ringing
Comedians stopped dead in the middle of a joke in las vegas
It had to be fbi chief j. edgar hoover and frank costello syndicate
Mouthpiece meeting in central park, new york weekends,
Reported time magazine
It had to be the mafia and the cia together starting war on cuba,
Bay of pigs and poison assassination headlines
It had to be dope cops in the mafia
Who sold all their heroin in america
It had to be the fbi and organized crime working together
In cahoots against the commies
It had to be ringing on multinational cash registers
World-wide laundry for organized criminal money
It had to be the cia and the mafia and the fbi together
They were bigger than nixon
And they were bigger that war
It had to be a large room full of murder
It had to be a mounted ass a solid mass of rage
A red hot pen
A scream in the back of the throat
It had to be a kid that can breathe
It had to be in rockefellers mouth
It had to be central intelligence, the family, all of this, the agency mafia
[...] Read more
song performed by Rage Against The Machine
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Reverend Simon Magus
A rich advowson, highly prized,
For private sale was advertised;
And many a parson made a bid;
The REVEREND SIMON MAGUS did.
He sought the agent's: "Agent, I
Have come prepared at once to buy
(If your demand is not too big)
The Cure of Otium-cum-Digge."
"Ah!" said the agent, "THERE'S a berth -
The snuggest vicarage on earth;
No sort of duty (so I hear),
And fifteen hundred pounds a year!
"If on the price we should agree,
The living soon will vacant be;
The good incumbent's ninety five,
And cannot very long survive.
See - here's his photograph - you see,
He's in his dotage." "Ah, dear me!
Poor soul!" said SIMON. "His decease
Would be a merciful release!"
The agent laughed - the agent blinked -
The agent blew his nose and winked -
And poked the parson's ribs in play -
It was that agent's vulgar way.
The REVEREND SIMON frowned: "I grieve
This light demeanour to perceive;
It's scarcely COMME IL FAUT, I think:
Now - pray oblige me - do not wink.
"Don't dig my waistcoat into holes -
Your mission is to sell the souls
Of human sheep and human kids
To that divine who highest bids.
"Do well in this, and on your head
Unnumbered honours will be shed."
The agent said, "Well, truth to tell,
I HAVE been doing very well."
"You should," said SIMON, "at your age;
But now about the parsonage.
How many rooms does it contain?
Show me the photograph again.
[...] Read more
poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
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In the New Year, Let’s Change …
Change is something that must come;
Change is good for everyone.
Change is something that will come;
Change is one we must welcome!
Change is good if one’s better;
Change is better to be best;
Change is nice if life’s better;
Change is the key to all success!
Let’s change our attitudes in life;
Let’s change our outlooks, behavior;
Let’s change if it can help us fare;
Let’s change the way, we see the world!
But change, we must anticipate in life;
We must be ready to take up change;
We ought to change if change we must;
But let us first believe in change!
Let change not remove identity;
Let change not weaken traditions;
Let change not ‘shake the tree by roots! ’
Let change bring effects desired by us.
Let changes come in the New Year;
Let changes make a man better;
Let changes better humanity;
Let changes not undo our gains!
Rein in the changes, advantageous;
Bring in the changes essential;
Take up the changes, we must make;
Let changes bolster life’s purpose!
Let New Year change the heart of man;
Let New Year change the mind and thoughts;
Let New Year change our living styles;
Let New Year change our sinful soul.
Let’s change and change the world around;
Let’s change our inner world and home;
Let’s change the things, we need to change;
Let’s change our lack of trust in God.
The more we change, ’tis good for us;
The less, we change, our life stagnates;
Changes are a part of life;
By changing, culture keeps alive!
[...] Read more
poem by John Celes
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CIA Dope Calypso
In nineteen hundred forty-nine
China was won by Mao Tse-tung
Chiang Kai Shek's army ran away
They were waiting there in Thailand yesterday
Supported by the CIA
Pushing junk down Thailand way
First they stole from the Meo Tribes
Up in the hills they started taking bribes
Then they sent their soldiers up to Shan
Collecting opium to send to The Man
Pushing junk in Bangkok yesterday
Supported by the CIA
Brought their jam on mule trains down
To Chiang Mai that's a railroad town
Sold it next to the police chief's brain
He took it to town on the choochoo train
Trafficking dope to Bangkok all day
Supported by the CIA
The policeman's name was Mr. Phao
He peddled dope grand scale and how
Chief of border customs paid
By Central Intelligence's U.S. aid
The whole operation, Newspapers say
Supported by the CIA
He got so sloppy and peddled so loose
He busted himself and cooked his own goose
Took the reward for the opium load
Seizing his own haul which same he resold
Big time pusher for a decade turned grey
Working for the CIA
Touby Lyfong he worked for the French
A big fat man liked to dine & wench
Prince of the Meos he grew black mud
Till opium flowed through the land like a flood
Communists came and chased the French away
So Touby took a job with the CIA
The whole operation fell in to chaos
Till U.S. intelligence came in to Laos
[...] Read more
poem by Allen Ginsberg
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Looking for Water
Still the leaves are spinning 'round
Take my hand as we go down, and down, and down
Looking for water
Well, our light's gone in a New York minute
Don't know about you, but my heart's not in it
(Looking, looking, looking)
I'm looking for water
I'm looking for water
(Looking, looking, looking)
I can't breathe the air, can't raise a fact
'Cause all we've got left is a beat in the night, and I'm
(Looking for water)
Looking for water
(Looking for water)
(Looking, looking)
Take my hand as we go down, and down
Leave it all behind, nothing could be found
(I'm, looking for water)
I'm looking for water
(Looking for water)
(Looking, looking)
(I, looking for water)
Looking everywhere
(Looking for water)
Looking here and there
(I'm looking for water)
I'm looking for water
(Looking for water)
(Looking, looking)
I can't live in this cage, I can't eat this candy
The edge of the earth to the spin in my head
The look in your eyes and never means never
The dawn's early light, baby, dark is forever
(Looking, looking)
(Looking, looking)
(Looking for water)
(Looking, looking)
I
(Looking for water)
(Looking for water)
(Looking, looking)
I
(Looking for water)
(Looking for water)
(Looking, looking)
I
(Looking for water)
(Looking for watter)
Looking, looking)
I
[...] Read more
song performed by David Bowie, music by David Bowie, lyrics by David Bowie from Reality
Added by Lucian Velea
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Modern Dancing
Modern, modern, modern, modern dancing
Modern dancing, modern dancing
Modern dancing, modern
I see you acting modernly with the boys and girls
Exposure breeds discovery in the modern world
The 60's hairdos 90's eyes are just flashing lights
A touch of neon hinting class for the modern night
Modern dancing, modern dancing
Modern dancing, modern dancing
Dancing
Modern dancing, modern dancing
Modern dancing, modern
Mono vision tv face and determined eyes
The clothes are perfect the rips in place just the perfect size
Familiarity breeds contempt but it doesn't show
We've heard the music times before but it still makes you go
Modern dancing, modern dancing
Modern dancing, modern dancing
Modern dancing, dancing
....variations to fade....
song performed by Men Without Hats
Added by Lucian Velea
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Prince Hohenstiel-Schwangau, Saviour of Society
Epigraph
Υδραν φονεύσας, μυρίων τ᾽ ἄλλων πόνων
διῆλθον ἀγέλας . . .
τὸ λοίσθιον δὲ τόνδ᾽ ἔτλην τάλας πόνον,
. . . δῶμα θριγκῶσαι κακοῖς.
I slew the Hydra, and from labour pass'd
To labour — tribes of labours! Till, at last,
Attempting one more labour, in a trice,
Alack, with ills I crowned the edifice.
You have seen better days, dear? So have I —
And worse too, for they brought no such bud-mouth
As yours to lisp "You wish you knew me!" Well,
Wise men, 't is said, have sometimes wished the same,
And wished and had their trouble for their pains.
Suppose my Œdipus should lurk at last
Under a pork-pie hat and crinoline,
And, latish, pounce on Sphynx in Leicester Square?
Or likelier, what if Sphynx in wise old age,
Grown sick of snapping foolish people's heads,
And jealous for her riddle's proper rede, —
Jealous that the good trick which served the turn
Have justice rendered it, nor class one day
With friend Home's stilts and tongs and medium-ware,—
What if the once redoubted Sphynx, I say,
(Because night draws on, and the sands increase,
And desert-whispers grow a prophecy)
Tell all to Corinth of her own accord.
Bright Corinth, not dull Thebes, for Lais' sake,
Who finds me hardly grey, and likes my nose,
And thinks a man of sixty at the prime?
Good! It shall be! Revealment of myself!
But listen, for we must co-operate;
I don't drink tea: permit me the cigar!
First, how to make the matter plain, of course —
What was the law by which I lived. Let 's see:
Ay, we must take one instant of my life
Spent sitting by your side in this neat room:
Watch well the way I use it, and don't laugh!
Here's paper on the table, pen and ink:
Give me the soiled bit — not the pretty rose!
See! having sat an hour, I'm rested now,
Therefore want work: and spy no better work
For eye and hand and mind that guides them both,
During this instant, than to draw my pen
From blot One — thus — up, up to blot Two — thus —
Which I at last reach, thus, and here's my line
Five inches long and tolerably straight:
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning (1871)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Absalom and Achitophel
In pious times, e'er Priest-craft did begin,
Before Polygamy was made a sin;
When man, on many, multiply'd his kind,
E'r one to one was, cursedly, confind:
When Nature prompted, and no law deny'd
Promiscuous use of Concubine and Bride;
Then, Israel's monarch, after Heaven's own heart,
His vigorous warmth did, variously, impart
To Wives and Slaves; And, wide as his Command,
Scatter'd his Maker's Image through the Land.
Michal, of Royal blood, the Crown did wear,
A Soyl ungratefull to the Tiller's care;
Not so the rest; for several Mothers bore
To Godlike David, several Sons before.
But since like slaves his bed they did ascend,
No True Succession could their seed attend.
Of all this Numerous Progeny was none
So Beautifull, so brave as Absalon:
Whether, inspir'd by some diviner Lust,
His father got him with a greater Gust;
Or that his Conscious destiny made way
By manly beauty to Imperiall sway.
Early in Foreign fields he won Renown,
With Kings and States ally'd to Israel's Crown
In Peace the thoughts of War he could remove,
And seem'd as he were only born for love.
What e'er he did was done with so much ease,
In him alone, 'twas Natural to please.
His motions all accompanied with grace;
And Paradise was open'd in his face.
With secret Joy, indulgent David view'd
His Youthfull Image in his Son renew'd:
To all his wishes Nothing he deny'd,
And made the Charming Annabel his Bride.
What faults he had (for who from faults is free?)
His Father could not, or he would not see.
Some warm excesses, which the Law forbore,
Were constru'd Youth that purg'd by boyling o'r:
And Amnon's Murther, by a specious Name,
Was call'd a Just Revenge for injur'd Fame.
Thus Prais'd, and Lov'd, the Noble Youth remain'd,
While David, undisturb'd, in Sion raign'd.
But Life can never be sincerely blest:
Heaven punishes the bad, and proves the best.
The Jews, a Headstrong, Moody, Murmuring race,
As ever try'd th' extent and stretch of grace;
God's pamper'd people whom, debauch'd with ease,
No King could govern, nor no God could please;
(Gods they had tri'd of every shape and size
That Gods-smiths could produce, or Priests devise.)
[...] Read more
poem by John Dryden
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From Saul To Paul
Saul was a very zealous Pharisee, committed to The God of Eternity,
A circumcised Hebrew of Hebrews, opposed to Christ’s Good News,
Saul threatened to murder anyone, who avowed belief in God’s Son,
Fomenting great hatred and strife, against That Way of Jesus Christ.
Those believing in that time and day, were called people of The Way,
Saul then journeyed to Damascus, to arrest believers in Christ Jesus,
On his journey to destroy the Way, the Lord Jesus had words to say,
“Saul, Saul why do you persecute me”, said The Lord of the Pharisee.
This after Saul fell down in fright, all surrounded, by a Heavenly Light,
The men with Saul heard God’s Son, however, those men saw no one,
Telling Saul simply to continue into, Damascus, to be told what to do,
When Saul got up he could not see, and was led by hand into the city.
In the city Saul’s sight was restored, by Ananias a disciple of the Lord,
With hands scales fell from his eyes, through Christ, who he despised;
Yet some disciples were still afraid, because of havoc Saul had made,
But Barnabas a disciple of Christ, encourages Saul about his New Life.
God can save and change anyone, who comes to Christ, His Only Son,
Just as He changed Saul of Tarsus, to become an instrument of Jesus,
Christ’s Light, to the gentile world, as The Good News, he would herald,
No longer would he be called Saul, but now for Christ, the Apostle Paul.
(Copyright ©04/2011)
poem by Bob Gotti
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Saul turns Paul: The Road to Damascus
Blinded by a brilliant light,
On the road to Damascus,
Saul of Tarsus, on horse-back
Heard the voice of Jesus Christ:
‘Saul Saul, why persecute me? ’
‘Who are you? ’ Asked Saul at once.
‘I am Jesus Christ and Lord! ’
Saul saw Christ in apparition!
Others saw the light as well,
But couldn’t hear the divine voice!
Hit by the bolt of light from sky,
Saul fell from his horse-back to ground;
The voice bade him enter city,
Where he would be told what to do;
For three days, Saul remained just blind
And did not eat and drink ever!
Ten years’ younger than Jesus Christ,
Saul annihilated Christians
Whenever, wherever, he could;
He never had seen Jesus Christ.
A disciple, Ananias
Had a vision in Damascus;
To go to the house of Judas
And to restore the sight of Saul.
Ananias did as he was bade;
Something like scales fell from Saul’s eyes;
His sight was restored by God’s will
Ananias then baptized him;
He regained strength after eating;
God chose him as His instrument
To spread His name among Gentiles!
Cured by Ananias, he was
Baptized into Christianity;
From Saul of Tarsus, Pharisee,
Was born an Apostle of Christ;
Paul took his newer Latin name,
An ardent Christian, Apostle.
From youth, he knew how to make tents!
His New Testament Epistles
Became a founding voice of faith
And proved that sins can be absolved
Through faith and grace of Jesus Christ!
God forgives any sin of man,
No matter how grave it could be;
[...] Read more
poem by John Celes
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Change Your Mind
When you get weak, and you need to test your will
When lifes complete, but theres something missing still
Distracting you from this must be the one you love
Must be the one whose magic touch can change your mind
Dont let another day go by without the magic touch
Distracting you (change your mind)
Supporting you (change your mind)
Embracing you (change your mind)
Convincing you (change your mind)
When youre confused and the world has got you down
When you feel used and you just cant play the clown
Protecting you from this must be the one you love
Must be the one whose magic touch can change your mind
Dont let another day go by without the magic touch
Protecting you (change your mind)
Restoring you (change your mind)
Revealing you (change your mind)
Soothing you (change your mind)
You hear the sound, you wait around and get the word
You see the picture changing everything youve heard
Destroying you with this must be the one you love
Must be the one whose magic touch can change your mind
Dont let another day go by without the magic touch
Destroying you (change your mind)
Embracing you (change your mind)
Protecting you (change your mind)
Confining you (change your mind)
Distracting you (change your mind)
Supporting you (change your mind)
Distorting you (change your mind)
Controlling you (change your mind)
Change your mind (change your mind)
Change your mind, change your mind (change your mind)
Change your mind (change your mind)
The morning comes and theres an odor in the room
The scent of love, more than a million roses bloom
Embracing you with this must be the one you love
Must be the one whose magic touch can change your mind
Dont let another day go by without the magic touch
Embracing you (change your mind)
Concealing you (change your mind)
Protecting you (change your mind)
Revealing you (change your mind)
Change your mind, change your mind (change your mind)
Change your mind (change your mind)
Change your mind, change your mind (change your mind)
Change your mind (change your mind)
Change your mind, change your mind
Change your mind
Change your mind, change your mind
[...] Read more
song performed by Neil Young
Added by Lucian Velea
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Judged By The Company We Keep
There are multiple proverbs
wise sayings implying
we are judged by the company
we keep; which implies
our friendships those we associate
with; are considered
character indicators which reflect
negatively or positively
upon credibility of our character.
A case in point an example
‘Birds of a feather flock together.’
Meaning people who are similar
with similar aims goals interests
backgrounds tend to congregate
together in friendship or common
necessity; sharing the same feather;
shared common characteristics is
common denominator glue binding
agent; sustaining interactive identity.
The mystery the spice the intrigue
is dynamics of mix sustaining such
group identities in shared interests.
Associating with esteemed company
implies basking within their radiance
popularity social advantages of light.
‘Tar with the same brush’ is to believe
wrongly that individuals groups share
the same faults unaccepted bad qualities.
Once in extreme cases of prejudice
a person or several individuals might
have been punished with the application
of a coat of tar and feathers; if the entire
body was covered coated in hot hate;
blocking all the pores of the skin; and
could not be removed in time; death resulted.
‘tarred with the same brush’ implies judgement
to punish to criticize severely and devastatingly.
The injustice humiliation of McCarthyism
an era of ‘reds under the bed’ witch hunts
is a political example of persecution bigotry
[...] Read more
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Old Spense
You've seen his place, I reckon, friend?
'Twas rather kind ov tryin'.
The way he made the dollars fly,
Such gimcrack things a-buyin'--
He spent a big share ov a fortin'
On pesky things that went a snortin'
And hollerin' over all the fields,
And ploughin' ev'ry furrow;
We sort ov felt discouraged, for
Spense wusn't one to borrow;
An' wus--the old chap wouldn't lend
A cent's wuth to his dearest friend!
Good land! the neighbours seed to wunst
Them snortin', screamin' notions
Wus jest enough tew drown the yearth
In wrath, like roarin' oceans,
'An' guess'd the Lord would give old Spense
Blue fits for fightin' Pruvidence!'
Spense wus thet harden'd; when the yearth
Wus like a bak'd pertater;
Instead ov prayin' hard fur rain,
He fetched an irrigator.
'The wicked flourish like green bays!'
Sed folks for comfort in them days.
I will allow his place was grand
With not a stump upon it,
The loam wus jest as rich an' black
Es school ma'am's velvet bunnit;
But tho' he flourish'd, folks all know'd
What spiritooal ear-marks he show'd.
Spense had a notion in his mind,
Ef some poor human grapples
With pesky worms thet eat his vines,
An' spile his summer apples,
It don't seem enny kind ov sense
Tew call that 'cheekin' Pruvidence!'
An' ef a chap on Sabbath sees
A thunder cloud a-strayin'
Above his fresh cut clover an'
Gets down tew steddy prayin',
An' tries tew shew the Lord's mistake,
Instead ov tacklin' tew his rake,
He ain't got enny kind ov show
[...] Read more
poem by Isabella Valancy Crawford
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