Poetry

The Hangman

The Hangman by Maurice Ogden Stanza 1 Into our town the Hangman came, smelling of gold and blood and flame. And he paced our bricks with a diffident air. And built his frame on the courthouse square. The scaffold stood by the courthouse side, only as wide as the door was wide; a frame as… Continue reading The Hangman

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Poetry, Thoughts

Poetry link

For those of you that like poetry… Here is a very good site.

blackswanpoetry

I am not

An old school plagiarist

Stealing all that I write

From this life

Obvious to those

Cursed with sight

Funny how I still

Know nothing despite

 

The writings on the wall

And the many scribbles

In the stalls

Bumping into other thieves

Busy at their theft

Rolling up their sleeves

All of us trying to take a bow

For something we were presented

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Poetry, Writing

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An awesome poem…

We numb what we hate to crucify,
In fear we can’t be free.
To kill the sin seems unjustified,
Scared to lose identity,
I ignore what’s killing me.

Christopher Clody

Fear to Crucify

We numb what we hate to crucify,
In fear we can’t be free.
To kill the sin seems unjustified,
Scared to lose identity,
I ignore what’s killing me.

The sin within must never prosper,
Fed through vices sheepishly,
The death of Christ revealed to sinners,
God’s judgment of sin to see –
The cost of depravity.

 Bruised and broken,
He hung for me,
Love unspoken,
Death…sets… me… free.

 As the incarnate Word gives up His Ghost,
He sends another to my side,
He too is God who convicts selfish boasts,
Hanging sin on my whipping post.

 My sin must accept its bitter passion,
For Christ out-loves my harmful rebellion.

Now that the Father has drawn me near,
I dare crucify sin without fear.

 ©2012 by Chris Clody 4/10/2012

How does the following verse speak to you?

“Knowing this, that our old man is crucified with Him, that…

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Poetry

A Sad State of Freedom

You waste the attention of your eyes, the glittering labour of your hands, and knead the dough enough for dozens of loaves of which you'll taste not a morsel; you are free to slave for others- you are free to make the rich richer. The moment you're born they plant around you mills that grind… Continue reading A Sad State of Freedom

Poetry

Awake! Young Men of England

The Henley and South Oxfordshire Standard, 2 October 1914 Oh! give me the strength of the lion, The wisdom of Reynard the fox, And then I’ll hurl troops at the Germans, And give them the hardest of knocks. Oh! think of the War lord’s mailed fist, That is striking at England to-day: And think of… Continue reading Awake! Young Men of England

Belize, Poetry, Thoughts

Jewelizean

Just a quick few lines I put together for my fellow Belizeans Always and 4ever I will remain a Jewelizean... Brought here a Belizean and will leave a Belizean. You may change your style You may change your name You may change where you live You may change your Citizenship One thing you can never… Continue reading Jewelizean