Quotes about corrode, page 3
Molded Goals
Give me my right to have a life of variety.
With a choice I decide in my mind,
Who and what I will be as I define.
People live to breathe in sequels.
And leeching to squeeze,
From an opportunistic vision.
But too afraid to plant their own footsteps,
If others are not pleased.
People are not free,
Or encouraged to be themselves.
And directed from their births,
To seek acceptance...
From others who have molded goals,
And know what is perfectness.
Give me my right to have a life of variety.
With a choice I decide in my mind,
Who and what I will be as I define.
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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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At sixes and sevens
Minds are avid part-time sleuths
half asleep with sensors set.
Whet by fret and tripped by threat,
laying bare conflicting truths.
Inside private polling-booths
clues are vetted, outcomes bet.
Living things which move need brains,
tuned response to changing world.
Evolution's path unfurled
specialized machine which trains.
Trial and error process strains
random information swirled.
Primed to spark at fresh events,
disregarding flat surround.
Honed for nature's battleground,
immanent expedience.
Guessing probable percents,
how an outlay may rebound.
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poem by Diane Hine
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Just To Hear Your Story Being Told
Stay up all night,
If you are the type...
That can not seem to sleep right.
And bear on shoulders,
Those burdens you can't control.
The ones you hold in overload.
Fight with clinched teeth and be uptight...
About common situations that incite,
And corrode that need you have to be bold.
Just to hear your story being told.
Just to hear your story!
Go fly a kite!
If that is the attitude you choose and like.
But put some movement to it.
And don't criticize...
Those you know who recommend,
You should get a life.
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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Devotion
Devotion
Written by: Wilfred Mellers, Wednesday, April 14,2010 @8: 31 PM
Our winters never it snowed
Autumn’s leafs never yellowed
No longer days overshadowed
In merriment we often wallowed
Temperament’s high strong now mellowed
Sweet wine of live once flowed
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poem by Wilfred Mellers
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Passing of Things
All we have in the here and now, will be used or lost somehow,
When this life on earth is past, nothing on earth for us will last.
As we leave this world behind, we enter one, beyond our mind,
Even our bodies God will replace, through His Amazing Grace.
On earth moth and rust destroy, things that give us earthly joy,
Bringing to our life loss and pain, from items we cannot regain.
As this life comes to the end, there is eternity around the bend,
And as life comes to a close, an Eternal Life for all God chose.
Thoughts again of loss, never, as we have life in Christ forever,
For God chose men He knew, would believe His Son to be true.
Planning for men who believe, an eternity minds can’t conceive,
With their own eternal abode, that moth or rust will ever corrode.
But unbelievers will never see, the Heaven prepared for eternity,
They’ll experience greater loss, in denying the love of the cross.
Content with things of the earth, they see no need for new birth,
One in which they’re born of God, to live above this earthly sod.
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poem by Bob Gotti
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What Cancer Can't Do
Cancer is a real menace friend, which brings on an ominous end,
A time when suffering can be rife, with an early exit from this life,
This as life takes a major change, as many things stay the same,
Bringing much anguish to a family, in ways, they have yet to see.
Though cancer affects me and you, its menace has its limits too,
Limits on the devastating effect, upon those lives it has wrecked;
Regarding the victims, I speak of; cancer cannot cripple the love,
One's love, that remains intact, despite cancer's relentless attack.
Cancer cannot shatter our hope, as through it God helps us cope,
With The Lord's sustaining grace, cancer cannot corrode our faith;
Though its ailing effects increase, cancer can't destroy our peace,
A peace, that God instills in us, through the Spirit of Christ Jesus.
Though death may be cancer's will, friendships cancer cannot kill,
Also, it cannot suppress memories, of loving friends and families,
As the ill effects continue to rage, cancer cannot silence courage,
For we know that this entire life, is truly sustained by Jesus Christ.
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poem by Bob Gotti
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Treasure In Heaven
We spend and splurge all the day, while allowing our soul to stray,
Attracted to what pleases the eye, while we allow our soul to die.
Enticed by what the eye can see, with no thought towards eternity.
We spend effort and much time, securing what we claim as mine.
How much can you truly secure and keep with you forevermore?
Even those dear to your heart, will one day from this life depart.
Nothing of this world shall be, embraced in Heaven through Eternity.
The former things will be no more, after you enter Eternity’s Door.
Don’t store treasure here on earth, for in the end it’s of little worth.
Here moths destroy and rust corrode, not so in your heavenly abode.
Store treasure in Heaven friend, where an Eternity you will spend.
Where your treasure is, you’ll see, there your heart shall also be.
Christ came to this earth to fulfill, not His own, but His Father’s will.
As a servant, The Lord Jesus Christ laid His life down as a sacrifice.
Pick up your cross and follow Christ, as He’s already paid the price.
My friend if you will deny yourself, you shall have Eternal wealth.
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poem by Bob Gotti
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Parting
A man is standing in the hall
His house not recognizing.
Her sudden leaving was a flight,
Herself, maybe, surprising.
The chaos reigning in the room
He does not try to master.
His tears and headache hide in gloom
The extent of his disaster.
His ears are ringing all day long
As though he has been drinking.
And why is it that all the time
Of waves he keeps on thinking?
When frosty window-panes blank out
The world of light and motion,
Despair and grief are doubly like
The desert of the ocean.
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poem by Boris Pasternak
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The Stoic: For Laura Von Courten
All winter long you listened for the boom
Of distant cannon wheeled into their place.
Sometimes outside beneath a bombers’ moon
You stood alone to watch the searchlights trace
Their careful webs against the boding sky,
While miles away on Munich’s vacant square
The bombs lunged down with an unruly cry
Whose blast you saw yet could but faintly hear.
And might have turned your eyes upon the gleam
Of a thousand years of snow, where near the clouds
The Alps ride massive to their full extreme,
And season after season glacier crowds
The dark, persistent smudge of conifers.
Or seen beyond the hedge and through the trees
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poem by Edgar Bowers
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Counting Hearts
I guess…
We x-ray hearts differently
Pints, love, pity, bangs and chess
No conscience walking confidently
Blue stained red and black as an awful dress
Bad versus evil, good is knocked out completely
Plunges, blood stained, wet grasses in sour vex
Burdens, sorrow chipped correctly
Poison arrows, bands and clamps make life a mess
Emotions not drawn from senses sniffs deadly
Curie might have started the problem, but who will end this dance which seems endless
And the clay He would smash and start off again coldly
Mother, this world is for counting hearts
Not your game to say checkmate
The frog roars, the bird howls, what louder noise my mate makes?
Till everyone's funeral is in their diary up to date
Coarse hands yank life far away in deaths
Of countless, stubborn, stiff and cold hearts in a suitcase
Whence does music calm troubled breasts?
But frenzy all tied up for theirs to use
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poem by Ivan Chizurum Ezeigbo
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