Tag Archives: expression of faith

Death don’t mean nothin’ to me.

Death don’t mean nothin’ to me
Cause I have a God
He’s up in Heaven you see
So death don’t mean nothin’ to me

People can’t live forever
There just isn’t enough room
They all try however
But death don’t mean nothin’ to me

God takes care of my every need
He is the one who loves me
He is the one to whom I plead
So death don’t mean nothin’ to me

Jesus died on the cross
If it wasn’t for Him
All would be lost
Death don’t mean nothin’ to me

God has a plan for my life
I try to follow it as best I can
But sometimes troubles cut like a knife
So I don’t let death mean nothin’ to me

When I die as we all will do
I hope Jesus meets me at the door to Heaven
I will bow down and give Him His due
That’s why death don’t mean nothin’ to me

I miss those who have gone before
But with just a little bit of grace
They will meet me at the door
So death won’t mean nothin’ to me

Ancient Voices

Sublime

exquisite,

their expression,

their emotion,

their surreal evocation

of an Age

long since past,

beyond memory:

Revived,

to seduce

transfix

in the Here,

the for Now

everlasting Here,

Connecting

nigh on five centuries

how vibrant,

mysterious,transparent

cogent

the notation

the phrasing

the passion

the exultation;

erasing all

of the dull quotidian

and its stifling mediocrity,

ancient voices,

singing.

 

Author’s footnote :-

On July 12, 2016 BBC Radio 3 broadcast live from York Minster’s Early Music Festival.

And I found myself beginning to scribble furiously whilst listening to the performance from the private songbook collection of Ann Boleyn.

 

 

The Skies Above Kent, 1940

Who shall make manifest again the courage of Lionheart?

who will make their way to

the cockpit of the Hurricane?

who shall glance upward at adversarial skies

abuzz with intruders and not blanch?

A radio’s circumspect utterance that

there might be something terribly amiss

at odds with Summer’s timeless evocation

reassuring approbation of cider in the jar

and the sound of willow on leather;

In such moments who do we expect

to step up to the mark?

to re-enact that which was all too bloodily

enacted on long ago days under different skies,

Agincourt, Ypres, Mafeking, Trafalgar, Waterloo;

those days have long burdened us to be this way,

coffin-borned Te Deums that ensure it falls

to Summer to offer up its stage whereon we,

we all get to play our part:

tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow,

wherever tyranny and liberty rendezvous,

who shall make manifest again the courage of Lionheart?

who will make their way to

the cockpit of the Hurricane?

Life is like Raindrops

Life gives many reasons
Everyday to smile
Like a cheerful raindrop
This makes earth smile

Life is a wet road
On which we all walk
Let’s start enjoying rain
And we will see
Glory of life in soothing rain

Life is to enjoy
Every drop of rain
We can’t hide ourselves
So let’s start enjoy this drain

Each raindrops is small
But together it’s rain
This has the capacity
To remove barren lands in vain

Let us all try
To be like rain
Wherever we move
Let’s remove all pain

Life is better
And always it will be
If we have the courage
To be happy
In every situation
Whatever it may be

24.03.2016
(c) Sha Azam Siddiqui – All rights reserved
#Azamsuniversepoetry

Life is a Myth

LIFE IS A MYTH

Life is a mystery
With untold stories
People live life
With blind eyes

Life is here
It’s everywhere
If you see
Life surrounds us
With incredible delight

Still we run
Looking for life
But we forget
To see within
Where actually
Life resides

We live here
Where we have to show
And to complete that
Everywhere we vow

Live is living
With our own existence
Life without pride
It’s how we live
And we have decide

Let’s make this world
A beautiful place to live
A place worth living
For that love everyone
And learn act of giving

23.03.2016
(c) Sha Azam Siddiqui – All rights reserved
#Azamsuniversepoetry

Frederick and Geraldine (Part 8)

(Geraldine, Maya, and Pedra were talking in the kitchen while drinking some Jasmine Yin Zhen tea.)

”Between Bosphorus and Dardanelles, the waters are calm, ”
Geraldine Said, ”I love the life and the sea while being on this ship.”
Maya said, ” Let me see the meaning of the lines in your palm! ”
”I worked a lot; I can’t feel my hands when something I grip.”

Maya insisted, ” Let me rub your hands with Gilead’ balm! ”
”I can’t stand the hustle and the bustle of some big cities.
Will you predict my future after reading my palm?
”You’ll be surrounded by death coming from the waves’ ditties.”

”What is this balm? ” ” It’s an extract from the bakha shrubs.”
”Where did you find this shrub? ” ”This extract is brought from Chios,
Where this tree grows near the sea; I use it to make balm and drugs.
It’s good for the stomach and prevents the skin infections.

I used it also to make bread tsoureki.” ”It’s sweet, ” Pedra said,
”You must know that this tree excited the cupidity of many invaders-
The groves of Jericho.” Maya touched her, ”Are you afraid? ”
”It’s a place where to fight Titus, Joshua, and the crusaders

Emerged, ” Pedra took a long look at her, ”Do you have children? ”
”I have two boys who live in the southern part of the Ottoman Empire.
My husband died.” ”Why did you come here? ” ”I’m a poor woman.
Now, it’s a war; I want to work here, not to walk through the fire.’’

(Maya left the kitchen. On the deck, Marco, Rosa, and Cruz stopped for a few minutes their walk to admire the Marmara Sea while approaching Çanakkale.)

”Anybody who wants to pass through the Dardanelles
Must pay a tax. So, we must sit at the anchor in waiting
For an opening of this small Port of Çanakkale, ”
Said Cruz. ” About buying fuel, the seamen are still debating, ”

Said Marco.” This city is placed on two continents.”
” The shape of the strait is akin to that of a river.”
” Its history started with Troy. The tidal currents
Make this time of wait at anchorage a deceiver.”

”The Dardanelles is the most dangerous waterway, ”
Said Rosa, ” Maya and Naimah are talking fiercely.”
Cruz said, ”They’ve seemed not to know each other until today.”
”What happened, Maya? ” ”He can’t stop speaking viciously.”

(To be continued…)

Poem by Marieta Maglas

Frederick and Geraldine (Part 7)

Chiara, Arturo’s wife, approached them together with
Lucca and Francesca, the other Italian pair
Saying, ”Is Quare’s invention real? I think it is a myth.”
” His barometer measures the pressure of the air.”

Chiara wore a red big gown, with lace trimming the low,
A green velvet mantel, which was lined with some ermine,
Square neckline and sleeves, which were gathered at the elbow.
She spoke well Italian, Spanish, and German.

Italians wanted to disembark at Syracuse.
Bella and Miguel traveled to Barcelona home.
To find a new home, Naimah and his son had an excuse.
Out of their Turkey’s limit, through the storms, they would roam.

Tia, Athan, Megan, and Karsten would disembark
At Selanik, an Ottoman province, where Ahmed
The Third was reigning while his war was a fire in the dark.
They were Greeks being born during the reign of Mehmed.

Marco and Rosa, Cruz and Pedra, Pedro and Carla
Were Portuguese pairs coming home from America.
They had bought from the Pueblo Indians some ollas.
They gave one to the Russian pair, Ivan and Erica.

Ivan said, ”Tell me something about these Indians.”
Carla said, ”Their belief means dualism; they eat corn.
Some of them became Catholic due to the Spanish civilians.
They think they emerged from the underwater space to be born.”

Carla wore a black cap, having a veil, and a green gown
Patterned with acorns and flowers, and her sleeves were caught
With jeweled clasps on the lace at the elbow; her eyes were brown.
”The water is fresh in the ollas; I like their color a lot.”

She asked Ivan’’ Now, where do you go? ’’ ‘’We left the war.’’
”Ahmed and Peter the First! ” replied Cruz, ” tell me something,
How could you reach Constantinople after coming from a far ”
Zone? ””I do trade with them, but this war destroyed everything.”

”Did you lose everything you had? ” Marco asked Ivan.
”To make business in Turkey, I sold all my Russian goods.”
Erica tried this conversation to enliven,
”In Portugal, we’ll search for a job in cities and hoods.”

Marco wore a banyan with a patterned lining; his cuffs
Were embroidered in gold; his justacorps and stockings
Over his breeches were red like Rosa’s shoes and muffs.
All of them wore periwigs and talked a lot while walking.

(to be continued)

Poem by Marieta Maglas

Irretrievable

Where does time go

when time passes ?

where do tomorrows come from ?

futures remind us of those days

we clung onto fleetingly ,

till they too were replaced

by an ever repetitive Present ;

we knew that it too wouldn’t last ,

for time passes only for time to come again ;

leaving us stranded on the axis of meaning ,

whirring silently in space

like a circle in a spiral ,

our own future far behind us

and our own past to look forward to ,

as time passes.

Life is Beautiful

You are blessed
For the people you have
You should not be amazed
For the beautiful relations you have

Life is a blessing
For many unfold greetings
Which falls in path
When you keep moving

Life is just amazing
You just stop gazing
It will take you to other corner
If you just keep flowing

Life is a gift
Keep sharing it
It will double your joy
So always keep enjoying it

Life is meant to feel happy
No matter what
For happiness
Always be ready

Life is full of surprises
Live with it always
And enjoy what it gives
Feel as if it is happy crisis

You are blessed
You can bless others
If you live life being happy
Blessing will be unlimited
And you live forever happily

(c) AZAM SIDDIQUI

Dietrich B.

It wasn’t any power you wielded
that made them afraid ,

it wasn’t your persuasive argument
which they couldn’t counter ,

it wasn’t the numbers following you
that caused them sleepless nights ,

it was the thought
which lingered in their minds
that they were doing wrong
and were bound to fail ;

and of all the people they could think of ,
who they didn’t want around afterwards
giving a witness statement ,
it was you.

Footnotes:-

Who stands firm? Only the one for whom the final standard is not his reason, his principles, his conscience, his freedom, his virtue, but who is ready to sacrifice all these, when in faith and sole allegiance to God he is called to obedient and responsible action: the responsible person, whose life will be nothing but an answer to God’s question and call.

— Dietrich Bonhoeffer ( 1906 – 1945 )

Protestant theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer stands out among the Christian leaders during the Nazi era, for he was one of the few to actively resist the racist actions of the Nazi regime. In addition to his legacy of courageous opposition to Nazism, Bonhoeffer’s theological writings are still widely read in Christian communities throughout the world.