Quotes about penance, page 8
True confessions
In my youth I was often told
That confession is good,
good for the soul.
In a darkened wooden booth
I was expected to tell the truth.
First a good act of contrition,
Confession and then absolution
Penance would be meted out
Thus expiation came about.
Nowadays that’s thought
Old fashioned.
My local barkeep
hears my confession.
Of course he grants no absolution,
He pours Absinthe
and shows compassion.
And I may or may not
Tell the truth
While contemplating
[...] Read more
poem by John F. McCullagh
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Knowledge Dwarfs Mountains Distanced A Cubit High
an academic with aged masters
readings in English Literature
read a new poet in comparisons
blinkered in rules rigid time set
points fix of similarity difference
comparisons define what is not
lacks insight to see embryo what is
blinded eyes cannot see flame sun
blinded blink sight error shadow eyes
Petrarchan sonnet is Italian Literature
Shakespeare did not mirror fashions
inward journeys dwarf summit Everest
consider mark wonder soul penance
range human contemplation in reverence
poem by Terence George Craddock
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A Jester’s Kingdom
Inflict a wound
Serve a purpose
Do as you’re told
Serve a purpose
Cut the throat
Save a soul
Let’s see who gives a damn
Worlds forgotten
Blinded pathways
Lost soul’s die
Corruption reigns supreme
Religious hypocrites
Ride the crusaders corpses
Inflict a wound
Serve a purpose
Do as you’re told
[...] Read more
poem by Paul Fisher
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Broken Wings
My precious, little dove
The one I do so much, love;
Not able to take flight
Nor prime for the fight!
Why hath thou forsaken thyself-
You, with broken wings, upon a shelf;
Why for art thou, would you?
Just how, my dear, could you?
Fly now, fast; fly now, far-away from fear,
Leave ghosts-that they be nowhere near!
Protect e'er, our issue, from danger-
So too, from my love, now a stranger!
Recover now drothers, serve now penance-
From this wreckage, may we gain substance!
Maurice Harris,13 May 2008
poem by Maurice Harris
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I am a murderer.
Shadow of Death, lurks on my way.
I can hear him snickering.
Coming up for me, because
I am a murderer.
Death coming up for me,
With penance for my errs,
Murder jolted for sarcasm
Murder resiled by fling.
Nor hands, nor ropes or knives
For a gift of death and pain,
I’m sorry I couldn’t stop me.
Before I saw your young body dropp slowly,
I’m a murderer, murder for sarcasm.
I killed you in my womb,
A deliberate female foetus termination
I’m a murderer,
Shadow of Death, lurks on my way.
poem by Sakkthi Subramaniyam
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Sky-clad
Behind the high wall
Near the bus-stop
Still stands the tree
Carrying a crow's nest
On its crest,
Though now a bare sculpture
The leaves all gone
The bark coming off
From branches and torso
Giving it a leucoderma look,
[...] Read more
poem by Prabhakar Subramaniam
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Kaumaram-1
Thiruparankundram-
First of the six special abodes of Lord Murugan
Thou art crowned atop
In furtherance and furtherance
Incaved and incaved in rocky hearts concave
Mellowed in truthful immensities
Reigning aglow in triumphant intensities
Familial celestials juxtaposing in awe
Wondrous that rock in secrecy of Shiva
Emitting blessing blazes on Thou penance
Blessed Thine spear readied to battle..
Glorious Thine victory broke apart Padmasura
Causal to consort with Amrithavalli alias Devasena
In all cheers and jamboree 'Vel Vel Vetri Vel'
poem by Indira Renganathan
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The Gardener XLIII: No, My Friends
No, my friends, I shall never be an
ascetic, whatever you may say.
I shall never be and ascetic if she
does not take the vow with me.
It is my firm resolve that if I
cannot find a shady shelter and a
companion for my penance, I shall
never turn ascetic.
No, my friends, I shall never leave
my hearth and home, and retire into
the forest solitude, if rings no merry
laughter in its echoing shade and if
the end of no saffron mantle flutters
in the wind; if its silence is not
deepened by soft whispers.
I shall never be an ascetic.
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
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Which is bliss?
Risky path to Lord Amarnath-
Safety one to Lord Biswanath.
Which do you prefer-
Travel or destination,
Life or salvation?
Effortless low contours-
Restless high contours.
Which do you like-
Peace or wealth,
Reach or promise?
Abstinence to please God-
Worldly to gratify senses.
Which do you value-
Penance or romance,
Bliss or thrill?
A bird at hand or two in bushes.
Which do you take-
[...] Read more
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Not Accountable
Responsibility, is in the wind.
It has for a long time been.
The wind bends.
The mood sways.
An over extended stay.
A welcome mat that doesn't tell you no you have to go.
We must hold someone accountable, and let it be ourself.
A judgment to better everyone.
As accusations sit and stir.
Be careful that pot might just tip over.
A scolding most undeserving.
A burn that scars the unconcerned.
Even of a child I say,
Even of a child I say,
The innocence of the day.
Still they will have pay a penance long due.
They didn't get to choose, why do you?
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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