Showing posts with label Poetry and Verse. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Poetry and Verse. Show all posts

Monday, 27 August 2012

A Calling to bestow. (A poem by C.J. Petersen)


A calling to bestow.


Humanity to pontificate,
As words abate,
Before God kneeled,
Resolve is steeled.

Questions asked and the answers came,
A sad refrain,
Love ought be taught,
Urgency forte.

Teach all to Love their fellow man,
For this you can,
Do this for me,
True Heart I see.


© Copyright by Christopher John Petersen 

Author’s Notes: Forte: Traditionally pronounced by purists with only one syllable (like fort), it comes from a French noun.

Seeds of Love of a Type Mismatch

SEEDS OF LOVE OF A TYPE MISMATCH


How can I paint a picture,
of what my eyes do see?
How can I express these feelings,
so deep inside of me?

How can I touch another's heart,
without causing any pain?
Please tell me darling, will I ever
hear from you again?

I'm searching for the truth,
amongst a pack of blatant lies;
and only you can stop these tears,
falling from my eyes.

I wake up every morning,
wishing I was dead;
How can I face this music,
that is ringing in my head?

And now with every breath I take,
I smell your sweet cologne;
Then with a flood of memories,
again start wishing you'd come home.

I'm sorry for all I've said and done,
that's caused you such distress;
You had every right to leave me here,
a broken hearted mess.

They say I'm irresponsible ,
for accepting all the blame;
but I don't care what they say,
'cos to me it's all the same.

there's no point in a second chance,
if one still bears a grudge;
so whether or not it's possible,
I'll let you be the judge.

I couldn't bear to see, what you'd do,
if you didn't get your way;
so simply gave you everything,
then had to go away.

I could not, nor ever could,
condone all that you have done;
and even though I let you win,
you act as though you won.

You think your so exceptional,
that you can't do any wrong;
but regretfully I must disagree,
and sing to you this song.

Although I do forgive you,
repentant though art not;
and so on judgement day my love,
I'll vouch for you a lot.

To perish you must first be accused,
and this I will not do;
for the song I sing is a testimonial of,
my true love for you.

The fact I didn't fight for your affections,
doesn't mean that I wanted them not;
but rather have learned that they're yours to give,
and that you chose, to me, to not.

Just because I did not beseech you, doesn't mean
that I love you any the less;
but am belonging from the nearest possible distance,
should you beacon for me in distress.

Though I'd much rather be there beside you,
I know this is not your will;
but even after an eternity of standing bye,
I know I'll love you still.

Since leaving I've done nothing with my life,
but I've nobody to live it for;
and live in the hope of an invitation from your heart,
and to be welcomed through it's door.

What we started was never finished,
but lays in ruin by mutual neglect;
stifled by short-sighted ignorance,
and foolish pride, that is due no respect.

All I treasure I carry with me,
most my fondest memories of you;
and my burdens, the fonder memories,
that we never knew.

Third degree burns upon the hearts,
of two lovers drifting apart;
because of woeful words that were once said,
born of each other's tongues undead.

If you think these words distasteful,
then you have their meaning wrong;
it's not my intention to upset you, but merely hope you regret,
as much as I that things turned out wrong.

All my LOVE always


© Copyright by Christopher John Petersen

Sunday, 26 August 2012

When Heaven Smiles (a Pantoum Poem by C.J. Petersen)



When Heaven Smiles

As Nature mimics the setting Sun,
A vista rarely seen by one,
A captured moment for to share,
With Heavenly smiles to all down there.

A vista rarely seen by one,
Our future hopes are re-begun,
With Heavenly smiles to all down there,
Does God through Nature show His care.

Our future hopes are re-begun,
As Nature mimics the setting Sun,
Does God through Nature show His care,
With Heavenly smiles to all down there.


© by Christopher John Petersen

Author's Notes: This Pantoum Poem (my 1st attempt at one of these) was written and inspired by the image.

Friday, 20 July 2012

A poem to my Beloved Daughter Jessica Ann Thompson (nee Petersen)


OUR JESS...

Your mother was once, the apple of my eye,
And you but a twinkle, that when born made me sigh,
Then I gave you your name, and put you to breast,
Of your mother who raised you and gave you her best.

They say if you Love someone, you must let them go,
And how much I care for you, you may never know,
Yet oft times I think of you and pray you’re alright,
Then softly whisper, God Bless you tonight.

With playful reminders, of happiness... still,
I never thought... or perceived that I will,
Yet ponder the notion, to see you once more,
Is what I do pray for, and with hope do implore.

Your life takes you thither, and hither I say,
Ever comforted in the knowledge, that you’re going the right way,
You’re a Star that is Rising, mine waning at best,
You’re a beacon to others, simply known as “Our Jess”.

God Bless you Jess!
Love Always, Dad xxxOOOxxx.

THE WRITER a poem by Christopher John Petersen.


THE WRITER.

With soberness of mind, he takes up his quill,
And awaits the muses that are currently still,
he struggles in thought as the candle burns low,
a flickering light on a page, words yet to bestow.

Then all of a sudden there’s a change in the light,
The flickering dim flame is now dancing and bright,
Words flowing like summoned then plucked from the air,
And the former blank parchment is no longer bare.

Full of meaning and purpose he scribes through the night,
A little here a little there ‘til he’s got it just right,
Then sets he his quill from whence it had come,
And hopes that his work is pleasing to some.



© by Christopher John Petersen

Tuesday, 5 April 2011

A Walk With Grace


One day I walked, I walked and saw, I saw a sight, the sight I saw, the day I walked and saw.
The day I walked, I walked and heard, I heard a sound, a sound I heard, the day I walked and heard.
The day I walked, I walked and touched, I touched and felt, and felt by touch, the day I walked and touched.
The day I walked, I walked and tasted, I tasted a taste, a tasty taste, the day I walked and tasted.
The day I walked, I walked and smelt, I smelled a smell, and smelt the smell, the day I walked and smelt.
The day I walked, I walked and pondered, I pondered a thought, in thought I pondered, the day I walked and pondered.
And now I sit, I sit in wonder, at the wonderful gifts, given to me, by God the day I walked.

© by Christopher John Petersen

Wednesday, 22 September 2010

"MANKIND" a poem from the book "The Forgotten Foundling" by Christopher John Petersen


Adam has been split many times but when you put all the pieces of the puzzle back together, the answer still is one.

Mankind,
is what we need,
for kind men,
have no greed.

Brotherhood and equality,
will set us free,
this domineering dictators,
cannot see.

Peace of mind,
is yours to be got,
and many seek it,
for it means a lot.

for those who seek,
and do not find,
the Grail you seek,
is your mind.

Before you bring judgement,
and slander and curse,
think how you'd feel,
if the roles were reverse?

Discretion's the better part of valour,
of this you can be sure,
as the world's seen lots of fighting,
do we really need any more?

It takes two to tango,
consider carefully what you say,
and if agreement isn't reached,
then simply walk away.

Thor's the host of thunder,
"Adamsapple" the forbidden fruit,
also called the thoraxe,
be meek and keep it mute.

Individuals argue,
and fight unto the end,
let's all be singular plural,
and all be for A-MEN.

Life is but a riddle,
not meant in jest,
but merely to find out,
if we pass the test.

Love thy neighbours,
as you would have they you,
and forgivest thee they,
that know not what they do.

Love is like a flower,
the seeds of which we sow,
and if we're very careful,
we'll see it blossom and grow.

We're all each only fractions,
the sum of which is one,
let's all join hands together,
and see peace on Earth begun.
 
May God's Blessing be upon you all AMEN

A Disciple's Prayer "Oh God! What Can I Do?" by Christopher John Petersen.





Click on the title to read



Penned over a period of many years
Compiled in the year of our
Lord Jesus Christ 2002 A.D.


Monday, 20 September 2010

Undying Love For A Love That Is Dying (complete) by Christopher John Petersen

UNDYING LOVE FOR A LOVE THAT IS DYING

The artist put himself to task,
to realise a dream;
and gathered up and set it so,
it did not show a seam.

with loving hands he polished it,
and when each piece was done;
he set it all in motion,
giving life to every one.

Then he put a keeper in it's midst,
and said "Watch over it";
then saw he needed company,
and so of his breast did knit.

then said "Come see what I've cast on,
from a stitch across your heart;
this stitch to remind both of you,
that you should never part".

Now looking upon his loving work,
behold it has been dashed;
for some have come along, and with
a tarnished brush have splashed;

With fond filled fancies,
of lavish meadows Green;
of shimmering Sunkissed dewdrops,
on countless blossoms sheen.

An array of fossils and footsteps,
of all pleasantries ever seen;
now memories locked in teardrops,
of all that once had been.

Mother Earth, once plump and fruitful,
laid waste by foolish schemes;
left in the hands of ignorant caretakers,
is now falling apart at the seams.

All the artist's beloved creations,
have all but come and went;
shall the Harvest Moon not bless our skies,
'til this beloved Earth is spent?


Despondent over desolate spaces,
we dream the poet's dream;
of living in tranquil places,
with peace on Earth serene.

To live in joyous frivolity,
with nothing to bring us down;
to look in all directions,
and nay have cause to frown.

May God help us to understand and respect all that is given us A-MEN

An Ode To Those Of The Harvest (complete) by Christopher John Petersen

AN ODE TO THOSE OF THE HARVEST


In those God hath invested,
He shall not lose one;
who're understandingly prepared to take the plunge,
and do the bidding of His Son.

For they who believe in God's Word,
beyond a shadow of a doubt;
seek those lost in the wilderness, and help
them find the only way out.

Of they shall come an hundred, fifty
ten, or maybe just one;
gathering those that are lost, to the flock of Christ
God's only begotten Son.

For there is more rejoicing in Heaven,
to the gathering of these ones;
than for all of those that went not astray,
from the flock that these foundlings do come.

Because the mass of God increases, as one
joins the body of Christ;
and so all in Heaven celebrate, singing
praises of sheer delight.

Light comes not from darkness,
nor does darkness come from light;
if thou art filled with the Light that the Love of God brings,
thou art truly a blessed sight.

We are all, each out of sintax,
in err, way over our head;
when we repent and believe in Jesus Christ,
it's paid with the Blood that He shed.

CHRIST is God's only begotten Son, and
I to Jesus have truly come;
AN, another word for being one,
and so a CHRISTIAN I've become.


Finders keep us,
in our Lord Jesus;
Jesus keep us,
as your reapers.


My God through Jesus Christ save us all. A-MEN.

Sunday, 29 August 2010

In True Welsh Style; Julia Gillard refuses to surrender the Torch.

To Julia Gillard (also from Wales) I dedicate this Villanelle by Welsh poet DYLAN THOMAS.

"Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light."

So desperate is she to not surrender the torch to Tony Abbott, she is even courting a WA National to side with her.

OH JULIA! Please go gentle into this goodnight,
Rage not against the passing of the light.

Thursday, 19 August 2010

Of Love I Say…

OF LOVE I SAY...

That which one besets is usually begotten also.
For what you are within is without you and what is not within you you're without.
If you lost your Love, isn't that what happened?
If you've never been in Love, why not?
And if you'll never Love again, enjoy what's left of your lonely life ahead of you.
Sure you may have other partners, but are you really together and/or happy, if your Hearts are not intertwined?

You see, Love only starts, when in the beginning you spawn,
your feelings in words...for who gladdens your Heart...
It comes home to roost, when received by that one,
and fastens a bond, that can’t be undone…


Deep Thoughts and Ponderments

I've oft times given great thought to that of minuscule importance, but more importantly many times given little or no thought to things paramount.
Times such as these, of pondering my own belittleness, ought for and accomplishing nothing, thereby denying the time granted me from contributing much and maybe even making some sort of a difference.


Esoteric people, from their deep,
lay to rest their feel…
In the Hope, another shall lift them up,
and utterly make them real.
by C J Petersen

Friday, 16 July 2010

AN UNTARNISHED LANDSCAPE (by C J Petersen July 2010)

AN UNTARNISHED LANDSCAPE

That which is now, or ever may be,
Is not in my heart, nor am ought for to see.
But that which once was, should it e'er come once more,
May I bear witness, to marvel of and adore.

Thursday, 1 July 2010

To My Son Justin

Many things Canst one gather:
Much knowledge canst one know:
But greater things canst one not do;
Than Lovest thee, as I do so.

To My Daughter Jessica

The Earth spins and revolveth once,
They say a day is past!
and then spins thrice, and three times more,
say they then, a week is spent!
Two score of these, plus ten and two,
and then a year has gone!
But no matter what passing of time may come, I’ll never be Loving you not!