Solomon1 Posted December 21, 2009 Author Share Posted December 21, 2009 i like this poem because christmas has always been a big part of family life in our house. and that's down to mum and dad - love you guys! Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
mr_blue_owl Posted December 21, 2009 Share Posted December 21, 2009 nice one blue Thank you Mr Solomon Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Desert Rose Posted December 21, 2009 Share Posted December 21, 2009 Desert Rose I began my journey the day I was born. My name told my destiny. Yet, it remained hidden for me to discover. I traveled a long time to get to this moment. So many cactuses I stumbled over in the dark. No star lighted my path-- I was not yet awake. Naivety guided me into sandstorms that made wounds in my soul. Ignorance blinded me as the cactus' thorns scratched me. However, these wounds propelled me forward and kept me on a certain path. One day, when I looked ahead, I saw an oasis. A mirage, I thought, so I slowly walked towards it-- expecting to be fooled again. When I reached the mirage, I found a rose. I touched it and found it was no dream. Entranced by this rose, I placed it in the vase of my heart. As it took root, it became a part of me. My blindness lifted, for I could see the true Light. Faith rested in my heart. My desert rose led me to this destiny. .......part of a beautiful poem I heard. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Joto Posted December 22, 2009 Share Posted December 22, 2009 'Twas the night before Christmas at Rock-Away Rest, and all of us seniors were looking our best. Our glasses, how sparkly, our wrinkles, how merry; Our punchbowl held prune juice plus three drops of sherry. A bedsock was taped to each walker in hope That Santa would bring us soft candy and soap. We surely were lucky to be there with friends, Secure in this residence and in our Depends. Our grandkids had sent us some Christmasy crafts, Like angels in snowsuits and penguins on rafts. The dental assistant had borrowed our teeth, And from them she'd crafted a holiday wreath. The bed pans, so shiny, all stood in a row, Reflecting our candle's magnificent glow. Our supper so festive -- the joy wouldn't stop -- Was creamy warm oatmeal with sprinkles on top. Our salad was Jell-O, so jiggly and great, Then puree of fruitcake was spooned on each plate. The social director then had us play games, Like "Where Are You Living?" and "What Are Your Names?" Old Grandfather Looper was feeling his oats, Proclaiming that reindeer were nothing but goats. Our resident wand'rer was tied to her chair, In hopes that at bedtime she still would be there. Security lights on the new fallen snow Made outdoors seem noon to the old folks below. Then out on the porch there arose quite a clatter (But we are so deaf that it just didn't matter). A strange little fellow flew in through the door, Then tripped on the sill and fell flat on the floor. 'Twas just our director, all togged out in red. He jiggled and chuckled and patted each head. We knew from the way that he strutted and jived Our social- security checks had arrived. We sang -- how we sang -- in our monotone croak, Till the clock tinkled out its soft eight-p.m. stroke. And soon we were snuggling deep in our beds. While nurses distributed nocturnal meds. And so ends our Christmas at Rock-Away Rest. 'fore long you'll be with us, We wish you the best! A friend sent me this today Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
dropout Posted December 23, 2009 Share Posted December 23, 2009 Desert Rose I began my journey the day I was born. My name told my destiny. Yet, it remained hidden for me to discover. I traveled a long time to get to this moment. So many cactuses I stumbled over in the dark. No star lighted my path-- I was not yet awake. Naivety guided me into sandstorms that made wounds in my soul. Ignorance blinded me as the cactus' thorns scratched me. However, these wounds propelled me forward and kept me on a certain path. One day, when I looked ahead, I saw an oasis. A mirage, I thought, so I slowly walked towards it-- expecting to be fooled again. When I reached the mirage, I found a rose. I touched it and found it was no dream. Entranced by this rose, I placed it in the vase of my heart. As it took root, it became a part of me. My blindness lifted, for I could see the true Light. Faith rested in my heart. My desert rose led me to this destiny. .......part of a beautiful poem I heard. Desert Rose, dreamed I saw a desert rose, dressed all in ribbons and in bows.... Part of a beautiful song I heard. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
dropout Posted December 23, 2009 Share Posted December 23, 2009 The Human Factor Sometimes….though NOT often. Sometimes….the Human Factor..is important. The Human Factor is…..the aching heart, The tired, confused, loving, human emotions That pour through the eyes. Through the eyes of the heart. A heart that weighs heavily…like a stone. A stone…I will carry, forever, for you. My human friend. My human love. The human factor is. The human factories, Continue to churn out. Continue to oppress, repress, depress. All who cannot or will not think for themselves. Sometimes….this is important …to me. Sometimes….it is important for you. But not often enough. (S S….21.12.2009). Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
jobee Posted December 24, 2009 Share Posted December 24, 2009 Blind faith psychosis.Draft three Psychosis and Money What is it then that makes them pray, that makes them creep and crawl all day, that makes them read some silly script, their pride and confidence slyly stripped ? What is it then that transfers their minds, to heavens and angels and spiritual kinds, to attend Cathedrals in little groups, then dress in robes as exemplar troops ? What is it then that makes them build, on fertile land where food was tilled, huge Mosques; and Cathedrals too, just to sing and confess anew? Does it help in anyway, to wile away the hours of day, dressed in best and on their knees, praying to anything and making pleas? Is it selfishness that makes them think, we all need them to cower and shrink, on our behalf at their request, so that our souls be sublimely blessed? The whiff of selfishness stirs the air, I think it’s just themselves they care, the work is easy and less to think, from competition they wilt and shrink. This God they advocate with fuss, when ask for proof, they won’t discuss, O proof, O proof; what for you need ? the devils home you’ll go with speed. My lucid mind begins to stir, I’m in the hands of a blackmailer, I only ask; for what your sales? they came back as hard as nails. So business then shall prevail, In Woolworth’s by an honest sale, the Church an inquisition I think, proof of God surely brinks. jobee http://com4.runboard.com/bcoventryalternativeforums.f6 Carnegie "I don’t believe in God. My god is patriotism. Teach a man to be a good citizen and you have solved the problem of life." - Andrew Carnegie, Scottish-born American industrialist and philanthropist Albert Einstein "I do not believe in a personal God and I have never denied this but have expressed it clearly. If something is in me which can be called religion than it is the unbounded admiration for the structure of the world so far as our science can reveal it." "I cannot imagine a God who rewards and punishes the objects of his creation, whose purposes are modeled after our own -- a God, in short, who is but a reflection of human frailty. Neither can I believe that the individual survives the death of his body, although feeble souls harbor such thoughts through fear or ridiculous egotism." "I do not believe in the immortality of the individual, and I consider ethics to be an exclusively human concern with no superhuman authority behind it." "If people are good only because they fear punishment, and hope for a reward, then we are a sorry lot indeed." -Albert Einstein, German-born American physicist http://www.wonderfulatheistsofcfl.org/Quotes.htm Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
mr_blue_owl Posted December 24, 2009 Share Posted December 24, 2009 Didicoy Silviu’s home was a caravan His father was a tinkerman The ragged, sad eyed little boy Was born to be a Didicoy Their carva rolled into the town Silviu saw the people frown No welcome mat for them awaited But he was used to being hated When he asked to join their games The children laughed, called him names ‘Why can’t I play?’ Inquired the boy They said ‘You are a Didicoy’ And so he wandered off alone Save for his dog named Raganbone His canine friend was ever true And he loved his master, Silviu He asked his folks why it should be The township’s kids do not like me? Their friendship I would sure enjoy But they don’t like the Didicoy His mother told him not to fret She said ‘They are just jealous yet, Because we’re free to roam the lands Whilst they receive their tax demands’ They loaded up their caravan Departed town without a plan Two tinkers, one dog and a boy Who wished he weren’t a Didicoy Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
jobee Posted December 24, 2009 Share Posted December 24, 2009 Albert Einstein "I do not believe in a personal God and I have never denied this but have expressed it clearly. If something is in me which can be called religion than it is the unbounded admiration for the structure of the world so far as our science can reveal it." "I cannot imagine a God who rewards and punishes the objects of his creation, whose purposes are modeled after our own -- a God, in short, who is but a reflection of human frailty. Neither can I believe that the individual survives the death of his body, although feeble souls harbor such thoughts through fear or ridiculous egotism." "I do not believe in the immortality of the individual, and I consider ethics to be an exclusively human concern with no superhuman authority behind it." "If people are good only because they fear punishment, and hope for a reward, then we are a sorry lot indeed." -Albert Einstein, German-born American physicist http://www.wonderfulatheistsofcfl.org/Quotes.htm Ernest Hemingway "All thinking men are atheists." On page 144 of Paul Johnson's book Intellectuals, it states that despite being raised in a strict Congregationalist household, Ernest "did not only not believe in God but regarded organized religion as a menace to human happiness", "seems to have been devoid of the religious spirit", and "ceased to practise religion at the earliest possible moment." Other's have pointed out that Hemingway used the non-existence of God as a theme in his books. - Ernest Hemingway, American author (1899-1961). Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
pattricia Posted December 24, 2009 Share Posted December 24, 2009 All thinking men are atheists. What a good saying. I shall remember that.! Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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