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Posts Tagged ‘Israel’

You carry Sodom’s purse; you hold Gomorrah’s hand.
You say your prayers to God and court the idols of the land.
You’re double-minded like old evil Israel
And God destroyed the wicked with a Babylonian hell.
You are for women’s rights, but murder’s always wrong.
Abortion takes a human’s life; the weak killed by the strong.
Your demon lies are legion but your hardened hearts are seared;
No change, you double-down the daily slant you’ve engineered.
Our national debt is such that we can never pay –
Your spending and your promises have ruined us in that way.
You train as slaves the poor in barrio and slum
To lean and laze on government, addicted, always dumb.
Your tips are served with fear, your hands upon their throat.
Then, harlots in their misery, they spread their legs and vote,
While you, the pimp, moan o’er their pain as if you care,
When all you want is scepter, throne, and jeweled crown to wear.
You’re blind from power’s thirst so that you cannot see
That you rule from Titanic’s decks as she sinks rapidly.

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© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2016.

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In calm and cool and silence, once again
I find my old accustomed place among
My brethren, where, perchance, no human tongue
Shall utter words; where never hymn is sung,
Nor deep-toned organ blown, nor censer swung,
Nor dim light falling through the pictured pane!
There, syllabled by silence, let me hear
The still small voice which reached the prophet’s ear;
Read in my heart a still diviner law
Than Israel’s leader on his tables saw!
There, let me strive with each besetting sin,
Recall my wandering fancies, and restrain
The sore disquiet of a restless brain;
And, as the path of duty is made plain,
May grace be given that I may walk therein,
Not like the hireling, for his selfish gain,
With backward glances and reluctant tread,
Making a merit of his coward dread,
But, cheerful, in the light around me thrown,
Walking as one to pleasant service led;
Doing God’s will as if it were my own,
Yet trusting not in mine, but in his strength alone!

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……………………….Escape from Big D

Two small town lads were we who spent the summer in Big D,
Where heat arose, as scorching sun beat down unmercifully.
And then was fired a dragons’ breath from acres of cement,
That left those city streets and walks like steam pours out a vent.

The heat baked loaves of loneliness away from family, friends
That we were forced to swallow; we were busy making ends
Meet – making money so that we could go to school.
In the bustle that was Dallas, each was just a molecule.

We had a certain circle, small, in which we felt secure –
To work, or play, or store – and nothing else was siren lure
Enough to take us from our comfort zone to loaded roads
That spread like spider webs, and carried many loathsome toads.

Oppressive heat made summer’s feet snail-slow to make its pass;
It schooled us with a tedium found in a boring class.
But finally its term was done; another’s time drew near.
Just one assignment still remained ere we were free and clear.

We had to work a final day, then to the master go –
The central office in downtown, and papers to them show.
Here was the middle of the mound that swarmed and teemed with ants
And spires of buildings pierced the sky as if each were a lance.

But worse is standing in a mound of ants that have been stirred
As ones who are the first to know are quick to pass the word.
And out an army rushes from each hole and porous rock
And fills the paths and lanes: rush hour traffic – five o’clock.

So through a maze of highways, exits, roads and one-way streets,
We had to map our way with care and also our retreat.
We plotted like the astronauts when headed for the moon,
And in the end, it was a single way that we had hewn.

And on that fateful day, we went to work with anxious face;
We knew that just a single flaw, and we’d spin into space,
And never would our ship return to family or home;
We’d live our lives among the stars and like lost nomads, roam.

The work went well; then we were done; we stuck close to our route,
And ev’ry turn went perfectly till downtown was about.
But it was nearing five o’clock and ants began to crawl,
As frantic ants are prone to swarm near Christmas at the mall.

We parked our car (I know not where); in company’s last spot?
Then up into the air we went to cut the Gordian knot.
The paperwork was finished somewhere on an upper floor;
We hastened then to exit from the open Dallas door.

Down, down we went with our emotions high up in a cloud
Until we saw the streets were full with nowhere going crowd.
Our one way street, our ticket home, was five blocked lanes abreast
And we were in the far right lane, behind a bus, at rest.

And worse – far worse! for small town lads, who knew but one
way home,
Our turn was left – and we were right, as far away as Rome.
A block away, but we were blocked; we knew no other way;
How dark is hopeless life when light hides even from the day!

But then, a miracle – the bus ahead picked up its fare.
And cutting left, it pushed the traffic back – our path was bare!
Like God, for Israel, did part the waters of the Sea,
The bus did thus for us; we followed close, freed from Big D.

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© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2014.

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Barack Hussein Obama’s Nobel Peace Prize

It was a monumental thing
That no one will forget,
Like the Titanic hitting ice,
Or tissues getting wet. 

We search our minds and know the cause –
Leastwise, we think we do:
The lion and lamb now lie in peace –
The Arab and the Jew. 

Let’s not leave out Guantanamo –
When promise kept, how sweet!
The dirty birds have flown the cage,
And terror’s in retreat. 

Republicans and Democrats –
No longer partisan!
His leading by example means
Crass politics all shun. 

Iraqi War has gone away –
Ere him, it was the plan.
But there, the sabers rattle now,
And still Afghanistan. 

And what’s that droning that I hear,
That sudden bomb that bursts?
It surely cannot mean that he
Has blood among his thirsts. 

And yet, the puzzle still remains;
The pieces do not fit.
The prize was won before those things,
And not by little bit. 

Now puzzle we on puzzle lay;
The nomination came
With him as chief for just twelve days.
Then where’s his peaceful claim? 

It cannot be what he has done,
But only what he said.
His teleprompter’s really good!
And Nobel faces red.

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© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2014.

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Righteousness Exalts A Nation

Reproach of nations is their sin –
Ask Tyre and the Assyrian;
Ask Babylon and Israel –
If there are any left to tell.

But God lifts nations to a height
When they are just and they are right.
Ask Solomon how nations came
When hearing his and country’s fame.

Each nation finds it’s under God –
In servitude or chast’ning rod.
For God above looks down below
And nations pay what they all owe.

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Title – “Righteousness exalts a nation, But sin is a disgrace to any people.”
(Prov.14:34)

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© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2014.

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English: DESTRUCTION_OF_SENNACHERIB'S_HOST

(Photo credit: Wikipedia)


The Destruction Of Sennacherib

The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold,
And his cohorts were gleaming with purple and gold;
And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea,
When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee. 

Like the leaves of the forest when Summer is green,
That host with their banners at sunset were seen;
Like the leaves of the forest when Autumn hath blown,
That host on the morrow lay withered and strown. 

For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast,
And breathed in the face of the foe as he passed;
And the eyes of the sleepers waxed deadly and chill,
And their hearts but once heaved, and for ever grew still! 

And there lay the steed with his nostrils all wide,
But through them there rolled not the breath of his pride;
And the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf,
And cold as the spray of the rock-beating surf. 

And there lay the rider, distorted and pale,
With the dew on his brow, and the rust on his mail;
And the tents were all silent, the banners alone,
The lances unlifted, the trumpet unblown. 

And the widows of Ashur are loud in their wail,
And the idols are broken in the temple of Baal;
And the might of the Gentile, unsmote by the sword,
Hath melted like snow in the glance of the Lord.

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I think I’ll vote for this one as the greatest historical
poem of all time.  Any other nominees?  the bard o t h

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II Kings 18:13 – II Kings 19, especially 19:35,36
* It is interesting that Sennacherib’s records speak of
conquering city after city but says, by contrast, that
he shut up Hezekiah like a bird in a cage.  He laid
seige to the city, but his army was struck down during
the night and he went back to Nineveh.

 

 

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There may be cobwebs as I wake,
But there aren’t chains that bind me.
God help me get my head on straight
And Satan get behind me!

God grant that I might see the day
(And others cannot blind me)
As one more chance to glorify,
And Satan get behind me!

And help me, Lord, that I don’t groan
(I won’t, if you remind me),
Like Israel complained and griped.
So, Satan, get behind me!

Whatever work that I must do,
God sees and He will find me
With cheerful heart and willing hands.
So, Satan, get behind me!

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© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2011.

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