"The selfless protecting of another's own, health and life, the vigorous defending of another's rights, liberty and freedom, and the sensitive attending to another's suffering, heartbreak or misfortune, these truly maketh a man — and remember this: That love knows nothing of wrong; and truth, nothing of accommodation."
Welcome to my reality based website
This broad-based website, designed for the times, features
secular-generic, crossover and religious poetry, prose and articles,
all largely issue based, and such being part and parcel of my
personal journey, and thereby, a cathartic
collage, a kaleidoscope of thoughts, concerns, musings, views,
beliefs and experiences, and all being my very own work,
except where I have stated otherwise.
For light-hearted poems, go straight to my poem list page, which there, also includes my amusing page The Secret, or for general poems of a light and tender nature, see my Anything page, secular and Christian sections.
Website aim, via calling it as it is...
To stimulate thought, to generate discussion and facilitate change — I believing that there are issues that need addressing, that there are things that need to be said, that most are looking where it isn't, (certain distractions aiding and abetting), and that history is sure to repeat itself where forgotten.
Poem coverage, in brief...
love; life; empathy; human rights; equality; suffering;
death; suicide; values;
health; tyranny; environmental/animal issues;
religion; politics; welfare; age; violence; wealth; war; crime; etc.
In other words, anything and everything.
One of them represents my alternative poems which don't have the usual verses.
At any moment I might choose to tweak, alter, enhance, upgrade or add verses to any existing poem. As a
result of this, any poem of mine found outside this website could well be missing those improvements. At any
moment I may also remove an existing poem, and new poems are placed anywhere and everywhere.
Just a few things that you'll discover here...That love, truth and virtue are paramount;
That it doesn't pay to hurt, neglect or ignore anyone — and nor should anyone;
That there's far too much in the bowls of a few, and far too little or nothing in the bowls of many;
That men shouldn’t mistreat women, and that women shouldn’t frustrate men;
That animal cruelty, child molestation and torture are abominable crimes;
That evil is a sickness;
That the path you choose determines the outcome;
That armchair critics should burn their armchairs, and that judging by appearances is a sure way to err;
That there’s no shame in emotional damage;
That wealth is a curse when it’s not used to bless;
That there is a time and place to judge;
That bad people often hide behind good things;
That people who're painted good can be bad, and that people who're painted bad can be good;
That it never pays to follow pied pipers of any description;
That there's nothing noble about the herd instinct;
That humans are herbivores by design;
That there’s no eternally burning Hell;
That God isn’t causing those earthquakes;
That Christendom and Christianity are two different things;
That Darwin’s theory defies logic, sound science and evidence to the contrary;
That the majority have no idea what’s really going on;
That danger can lie in what we fail to see, and bias and apathy making such more likely;
That those who forget the past are bound to repeat it;
That much done in the name of love knows nothing of it, and that much done in the name of God knows nothing of Him.
Why make this website?
To understand the purpose of this website and my poetry, click on the Purpose button above. You may also like to read my poem Poetry With A Mission by clicking on the button to the right.
What this website is committed to...
Freedom of expression; civil-religious liberty; human rights;
peace; the search for truth; the recovery of morals, principles and
standards; and concern for creatures, the underdog and our planet.
Oh, by the way...
Please bear in mind that my journey hasn’t ended, and that as
consequence, I’m still stumbling, still making mistakes, and thus
learning and growing just like
everyone else. Therefore, if I have erred somehow, I ask your
forgiveness in advance. However, it should always be kept in mind that
both this website and its content has primarily been designed to
provoke thought that might not otherwise be forthcoming. If
disagree with something that I’ve said-cum-think I’m wrong, remember
this: How can I grow if you don’t let me know, (should it be
that I am
wrong)? And yes, I wouldn't mind the chance to reply.
Or to put this matter another way:
"There's greater danger in trying to limit freedom of expression than there is in permitting its abuse."
"Stand up, speak out, and if you must, march peacefully and in a dignified manner, not turning to lawlessness, violence, rioting, foul or deceptive means, for by such, you’ll stand condemned yourself and simply spin that tired old merry-go-round — and remember this: Many things that have been achieved via dubious means could’ve just as easily been achieved if only more voices had been raised and felt in the corridors of power."
won't leave unaffected — therefore, expect the unexpected; and please remember
the following: That personal expression is exactly that, and that you
chose to enter. Bravo!
No inappropriate content;
just communication that's straight, open, honest and sincere,
with no disrespect or injury intended.
who dares not offend cannot be honest."
"Never confuse straight talk with harshness, nor pleasing words with love."
has ever been the way of man to call some truth a lie and some lie
a truth, and why men often utter with their lips what their heart denies."
that shouts, confronts, questions, rouses, informs, pleads,
shares, inspires, encourages, heartens, empathises, weeps, sighs,
smiles and sees love as the only answer.
Poetry that takes no sides
but that of all
who’ve been wrongly accused or mistreated — in other words, poetry that
condemns wrong wherever and whoever it's coming from, and
that wrong may be.
that often behaves like prose thus making prose behave like poetry;
such being an experiment that bridges the two and frees poetry from its
somewhat rigid constraints
— the message contained
within each poem being more the focus than the poetic artistry.
poems, (a good portion of my poetry), could possibly be viewed as being
somewhat like paragraphs or a complete page in a book where
of each line happens to rhyme.
as if the way we live now determines our destiny, (eternal life in a paradise or eternal death), lest it be so
— and remember this: That if we did in fact only live for three score years and ten, (and never again), it would be better that those years be as bright and wholesome as possible rather than plagued by self-imposed worry, pain, strife, hardship or misery, unless, of course, any discomfort was the result of suffering for another’s sake.
And remember this too: That to judge God when you haven't experienced a personal relationship with Him, haven't a sound and objective understanding of His Word, nor a good grasp of the evidence supporting His creative works,
is to err and condemn without being ignorant of the fact.”
“Lance Landall reporting for duty, Sir!”
“Time you got here. Okay, son, get that rhythm and rhyme flowing, be it pithy words or witty fun, and see that there’s no slowing, ya hear. And while you’re at it, son, lots of verses too, not just one or two, and share — yes, every single one. Bowl them over with poetry and prose, anything poets might dare to compose, rattle their brain cells, yank at their heart, and tickle their toes — yes, make ’em laugh, make ’em think, make ’em cry, even get them wondering why. And while you’re at it, son, throw in a little bit of this and that, and don’t stop until it’s done. Now scat."
SAMPLE POEMS, SECULAR-GENERIC
1. Open The Door
Open the door to love, seat it at the head of your table, place it on a throne,
And let it reign unhindered, steal the show, call the shots, save the day and set the tone.
Yes, let love direct your heart, take the wheel, circle each day on your calendar too,
That it may pave the way, heal some wound, bridge some gulf, and pursue the right avenue.
Oh yes, let love stalk the wayward, scale any wall, pull back the curtains, scent the air,
Surround each crib and farewell each casket, hover tenderly where there’s any tear.
Yes, let love choose the right time and place, even words, arrange the notes in every tune,
Thus taking you and I to greater heights via an all-embracing hot air balloon.
By Lance Landall
2. You're Not Alone
I wish I could remove your suffering, or is it heartbreak you’re going through?
But all I can do is show that I care via word or act, thus thinking of you.
For who’d ignore a fellow traveller struggling with pain or grief? — no, not I,
This world having given me many a reason to sigh, cry and question “Why?”
Yes, there’re many of us who’ve suffered too, though I’ve no desire to talk of me,
But rather, to let you know that you’re not alone, though feeling so, possibly.
And if so, understandably so, for this world can be very harsh and cold,
Or so it seems until the cheer of a caring rosebud is seen to unfold.
Perhaps it’s just a hug you need, or arm around the shoulder, such no mere token,
For sometimes greater thoughtfulness is shown via an act where words aren’t spoken.
In fact, words oft getting in the way, some folk kind of clumsy with what they say,
But meaning well, though who among us never errs, isn’t seen to wrongly weigh?
Yes, be it physical or emotional, some things are very hard to bear,
And why it’s reassuring to know that folk who truly love and care are near.
For though they can’t wave a magic wand, they can seek or pray on our behalf, and
In the meantime, via word or act, show that they really feel for us, understand.
By Lance Landall
3. It's So Easy
It’s so easy to look at others, (and sound evaluations must oft be made),
But clearly we all have our own sad flaws and failings, and some price for wrong have paid.
Yes, most of us needing more than just a cut and polish, and yet, pointing harshly,
And this, when many are struggling with who knows what; or they clinging perilously.
Yes, insensitive words and acts can act like boots on fingers, and down many go,
Cutting stones and rocks showering them as they plummet; other R.I.Ps below.
And we with all the excuses as to why they have only got themselves to blame —
Well, one way or another — and self-righteousness too often adding to our shame.
Yes, it’s true that many have caused their own dilemma having acted foolishly,
But it’s better to give them a helping hand and not leave some folk feeling angry.
For anger that's fuelled by frustration or desperation can kick back at us all —
Well, one way or another — and why it pays to show heart-cum-make the better call.
But hey, where’s our humanity, that milk of human kindness-cum-selfless love, and,
That mercy that's also long-suffering, that attempt to try and understand?
After all, friend, what if the boot was on the other foot, and thus we in their place?
For life has a habit of toppling thrones and rebuking any who don’t show grace.
By Lance Landall
4. Come The Revolution
Yes, come the revolution — that love revolt — folk refusing to argue or fight,
Such an underground movement that’s warmth would replace all the darkness and gloom with light.
Yes, a joining of hands or linking of arms, kindness and compassion on a roll,
A desire for all that’s good, honourable and worthy soon reigning in each soul.
Imagine it! Handshakes, cuddles and even kisses greeting people every day,
They unable to escape the wave of love and benevolence coming their way.
Oh, how exciting to even think of such, for what a difference it would make,
And why I yearn for such a revolution, peace and harmony left in its wake.
Yes, no destructive riots, just winning ways and smiles, happiness and joy seizing hearts,
Everyone making the best of everything, helping out where there’s spilt apple carts.
A revolution where there’s no turning back, all negative bridges burnt behind,
And when it came to coldness, thoughtlessness and oversight, such one hard-pressed to find.
Wow, wouldn’t it be grand, so come the revolution, I say, that Tsunami of love,
And above the door of each home and workplace those fitting symbols, a heart and dove.
Yes, no more selfishness, but a never-ending fountain of everything that’s best,
All thanks to that people changing revolution — the best cause in which to invest.
By Lance Landall
5. Put Your Head On My Shoulder
Please put your head on my shoulder just like you used to do, because you’re still my girl,
And I aware that the petals of our twilight years are beginning to unfurl.
So may our love bloom with a deeper hue before those petals fall in quiet repose,
They clustering together with tender kisses and soft nuzzlings that life's end knows.
Oh, those precious memories of how you’d take my hand and arm and then rest your head,
My shoulder rejoicing in the pleasure of a feminine act that so much said.
And why I’m still moved when you take my hand and arm and rest your head on my shoulder,
For where there’s such love, there are some things that never change even when one gets older.
So please put your head on my shoulder and nestle closer, because you’re still my girl,
And my love for you like a protective clam that’s been nurturing a precious pearl.
And you bringing out the man in me, your head on my shoulder declaring your trust,
And may it remain so until those parting words, “Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.”
Yes, how I love those strolls, that hand that oft moves to my chest, the pressure of your breast,
That special closeness that warms my soul, steals my quickened heart and makes me feel so blessed.
And that still delights, excites and invites, declaring our love to the beholder,
A love that treasures each moment we have — so please, Dear, put your head on my shoulder.
By Lance Landall
6. My Dear Friend
My dear friend, and because I truly love you so — in other words, truly care —
I’ll always tell you what you need to know, not just say what you might like to hear.
And therefore certain things may hurt, and this, no matter how carefully I tread,
As truth often reveals the unpleasant, those things that sometimes need to be said.
And that’s love, for love puts another’s best interests first, even withholds praise —
In other words, doesn’t say you’re good at something when you’re not, nor false hopes raise —
Otherwise, you might well make a fool of yourself, perhaps reaching for a mike,
And those in the audience laughing at your voice, wishing you’d be on your bike.
No, love has far more sense than that, for had I foolishly said that you sing well,
You’d be slow to trust my judgment again given how “Get off the stage!” can chill.
But enough about singing, for that’s just one example, and why truth’s best said,
And lest due to such folly you join the ranks of those who’ve nonsense in their head.
Yes, the world is full of inflated egos, balloons that are about to burst,
Folk who’ve been set up for a fall via misplaced warm fuzzies of which they’ve a thirst;
And why criticism’s hardly popular despite it oft being a good friend,
And the way of fools soon leading to their own or someone else’s sticky end.
And this, dear friend, why I’ll always be honest with you, share what it’s best you know,
And thus I at peace with myself, my conscience clear and my heart shouting, “Bravo!”
For stating the truth and calling things as they are is not just a caring act,
But a courageous one given how so many now prefer fantasy to fact.
By Lance Landall
7. Don't Doubt Your Worth
Sometimes we can feel like a nobody, lost within the great sea of humanity,
A grain of sand pushed and pulled by life’s tides, or shoved by waves of insensitivity.
Or perhaps a leaf, one that’s detached and floating aimlessly, adrift on a cool breeze,
One caught in some melancholy Autumn, concerned that fate’s careless rake might cruelly seize.
Yes, sometimes life can leave us feeling left out, that we don’t fit in, and we feel alone,
Lost in caverns of introspection, where we wrestle fretfully, and inwardly groan.
Or we struggle to find our way through the maze of past mistakes, regret nipping our heels,
And we wonder — yes, we oft wonder — is there anyone else who the same as us feels?
A nobody, a grain of sand, a leaf, an after thought possibly, or last resort,
Someone who hardly figures in the mind of others, a vessel that’s without a port.
Yes, somebody just like us, aching inside, wanting to be noticed, or even heard,
Who’s seemingly destined to go it alone, others nodding but not saying a word.
And yet, our value is just as great, and our place on this earth just as necessary,
Thus, regardless of how we may feel, we have an important place in humanity,
For every beach relies on every grain of sand, and each leaf has its place on each tree,
Thus, should our time on earth expire, so much the worse for our absence this world would be.
By Lance Landall
8. Don't Doubt Your Place
Don’t be fazed by film stars, pop stars, presidents, kings, queens or popes, nor consider yourself any less,
For they’re just as human as you are, and no greater, despite their position, power or success.
Yes, they too, have to attend that little room where one is humbled, and they too, become elderly,
For they’re just as mortal as you, simply have a different function, are known far more publicly.
And hence why I’d never pay homage to one who’s as earthly as me, though I’d still act politely,
Aware that some have a certain role to play, a certain authority, responsibility.
But though such be so, I also knowing that they don't have a different body or brain to me,
And hence are thus my equal, and there to serve too, not to lord it over me, or humanity.
History’s littered with ambitious, deluded fools, propelled by delusions of grandeur — their own —
They wanting to make their mark, and boy, they sure do, terribly so, dictating from their self made throne.
Others strut like egotistic peacocks, lapping up the attention, basking in their own glory,
Only to suffer the same fate as anyone else — lost looks, old age, a plot in a cemetery.
Meantime, amidst their power play, or love affair with the limelight, they act as if they’re more worthy,
When in fact they’re often less so, given that their acts or behaviour work more injuriously.
And those who could be deemed as worthy, and even greater, are humbly lost within society,
Where they quietly leave behind a better legacy — selflessly, and even unconsciously.
By Lance Landall
9. Catch On?
Even when life has dealt us blows, left us with hurt and pain, it’s better to remain loving,
And midst the fog of broken dreams, heartache and loss, to seek out others with whom we can sing.
By that I mean, to lose ourselves in selfless acts and gentle ways, and words that warm and heal,
For responding any differently, even more joy, peace, hope and happiness will steal.
Yes, such is how we make our heart smile again, how we still move forward, and find our way through,
Searching for any little thing that will brighten, found in those things that for others we do.
For as we lift another’s spirit, ease their lot, and via those loving acts of kindness share,
Our own load is lightened, our season soothed, and possibilities are oft seen to appear.
We shouldn’t dwell on what we’re missing, on what might’ve been, or even on what should’ve been,
But rather, make the most of the present and what we have, for things will always intervene.
Hence why life’s really in the living, the being, our sight, our hearing, even our sense of smell,
And not so much in grandiose plans, nor romantic dreams, for many betray, kiss and tell.
Better to thrive on little, for little disappoints less, given expectations are low,
And given that acceptance and contentment are the two greatest friends that any can know.
For we all arrived with nothing, and will leave with nothing, given living is in the being,
And why we’ll never experience true peace until this little gem of truth we’re seeing.
By Lance Landall
10. Mind What You Say And Do
It’s sad that it can take almost a life-time before we’ve learnt, and then it’s often too late,
For the damage is done, our energy waning, and troubles and poor health lying in wait,
And we, very regretful, our back against the wall, and old father time ticking away,
All of which then seems to conspire against us, as if wanting to make us suffer and pay.
When all is said and done, it’s all about treating other folk well, and not causing them ill,
For come those twilight hours of our life, and amidst deep reflection, past wrongs may haunt and chill,
Yes, rather than the warmth of much happier memories, and deeds more noble and worthy,
We may feel cold draughts of restlessness and anxiety, and sleep may not come easily.
And we may also be forced to live with the baleful results of our callousness and folly,
Be that via personal scars, or scars we’ve inflicted on others that shout at us daily,
For all that we do and say — results in something — be it minor or major, good or bad,
Which, amidst our final years, will leave past years looking beautifully or shamefully clad.
Or to put it another way, such will leave us selflessly clothed or selfishly exposed,
Our conscience clear or pricking, and we, thus either agitated or serenely composed,
For all that we leave behind, either remains behind, or catches up, eventually,
A fact that has borne the test of time — one that rather than later, is better learnt early.
By Lance Landall
11. The Bridge
Father and son stood staring into the stream as they leaned on the old wooden rail,
The son deep in thought, and sometimes fidgeting with the head of a protruding nail.
Many times both father and son had stood there together, watching the movements below,
Sometimes deep in conversation, sometimes silent, the time passing quickly or slow.
Geoff turned his head in the direction of his dad, his words questioning purposely.
“Why do some folk take their life, Dad?” And after pausing, “Seems like such a tragedy.”
“Well, son, that’s a very good question, but somewhat hard to answer, actually,
Given that sometimes there’s no apparent reason — that is, as far as one can see.”
The old wooden bridge creaked as he shifted his weight, his gaze now fixed upon his son,
The surrounding trees and foliage filtering out the rays of the noon day sun.
Ducks and ducklings paddled their way up stream, their beaks stabbing periodically,
And numerous birds and insects went about their daily routine just as busily.
“Have I ever told you about John Lock, son?” “Not that I recall, Dad.” “Oh, okay,
Well, John Lock had everything going for him, and everything seemed to go his way.
His wife was not only very beautiful, but she had a lovely personality,
And his children were lovely too — well behaved, talented, helping out willingly.”
“Yes, John appeared to be the luckiest man on earth, pretty much envied by all;
A stable of cars, a sound business, huge mansion, expensive paintings on each wall.
But to everyone’s amazement, or perhaps I should say shock, he took his own life,
Leaving behind what most of us can only dream of; plus his shattered kids and wife.”
“What do you make of folk like that, Dad? I mean, fancy taking your life so pointlessly.”
“Well, son, I guess it’s easy to think this or that, perhaps acting judgmentally,
But we really don’t know what’s going on in another’s mind, or what’s amiss, do we?
And who of us can say we’d never do such, for one’s life can change unexpectedly?”
“Now, I’m not condoning such, son, for suicide’s not something we should contemplate,
But how we feel today could change in time, should things in our life deteriorate.
I’m reminded of those who fall in love and say the proverbial, “We won’t part!”
Only to end up divorced a few years later, and even malice in their heart.”
“Yes, it’s a brave person who says I wont do this or that, for oft folk eat their words,
And when in love, or life’s going great, heads are oft in the clouds, folk away with the birds.
And you know, son, it’s all very well for some folk to condemn those who take their life,
But what about those who pointlessly risk their life, and when they’ve children and a wife?”
“Yes, how many risk their life attempting to break some record, or just for a thrill,
Effectively acting just as suicidal, given such pointless risks can kill.
In fact, one could say they’re worse, for they’re not suffering in some way, nor wanting to die,
And very irresponsibly are risking everything, which begs the question, “Why?”
“Surely if anyone’s worthy of condemnation, it’s such as these, in my view,
And yet, they’re oft applauded, lauded, are even given trophies for what they do.
Thus, as I see it, if anyone is selfish and thoughtless, it’s far more so these,
For the one who’s ill, confused, or distraught, neither clearly nor rationally sees.”
“What do you think, son?” “Well, now that you mention such, Dad, I can’t help agreeing with you,
And I guess you’re glad I’m not one of those risk takers, nor suicide would pursue?”
“Indeed, son, even though you’ve had some rough years, reason to consider such,
But please know this, son: I would miss you terribly, for I love you so very much.”
“Thank you, Dad. I’ve always enjoyed our chats on the bridge, and it’s so peaceful down here.”
“Yes, me too, son. There’re times when we bottle things up, when such we really need to air.
Life has its rugged patches, but that’s all they are, son — that is, in the scheme of things,
For just as there’s sun after rain, there’s dawn after night, and that little bird that sings.”
“Well, son, I guess we’d better head back, ay?” “I guess so, Dad, but first I’ll grab a stick.”
Okay, son, I’ll saunter ahead — and if you’re as hungry as I am, you’d best be quick.
Knowing your sweet mother, son, she will probably have the table set already.”
“Sure, Dad, I won’t be long.” And so saying, he was lost in foliage immediately.
And there, he reached inside his jacket and withdrew a handgun — both loaded and deadly,
His pocket now free of the offending object, and his hands moving purposely.
The bullets removed, he flung all into the deeper water upstream, much more concealed,
Where there in the murky shadows, hopefully his secret would never be revealed.
By Lance Landall
Note: Names mentioned are fictitious
12. For Crying Out Loud
You may not approve of same-sex sexual acts, Gay marriages, pornography or abortion,
Cults, certain religious beliefs and practices, door knockers, dope smoking or prostitution
— And that’s your right —
But for crying out loud, don’t ever mentally or physically abuse anybody,
For hate filled words, cruel acts and violence are not only moronic, but weak and cowardly.
Okay, so someone hurt you — so what? — for you don’t have to retaliate, thus acting like them,
For how can you stand tall and protest when indulging in the very same thing that you condemn?
No, striking back is a mug’s game, and who wants to emulate the behaviour of fools and bullies?
For all who treat others badly are partakers in evil, suffering from the same disease.
Yes, you’ve a right to your view, freedom of expression precious, and rightful avenues of protest,
But for crying out loud, never lay hands on anybody, nor in abusiveness invest.
For sad rhetoric and callous behaviour are good friends of bigotry and persecution,
And thus always add to humanity’s problems rather than joining hands in any solution.
You may not be happy with some who’ve authority, their introductions or audacity,
Or you may have a problem with some organisation, and some underhand things that you see.
But whatever or whoever, you get to choose your response, for that response doesn’t choose you,
And whatever that response, it’ll paint you as bad or better, as one’s words and acts always do.
So for crying out loud anyone, stifle those words, unclench those fists, and shun any weaponry,
For though you’ve a right to think and feel differently, you’ve no right to mistreat humanity.
And should someone hurt you, don’t jump on the same merry-go-round, but rather, help pull on the brakes,
For the one who doesn’t becomes a party to the crime, and love, wisdom and foresight forsakes.
By Lance Landall
The poem above is referring to our general treatment of others.
13. It's Not Until Later
Some of us have done crazy and regretful things that we can’t believe we did do,
That is, now that many years have passed by, and that via wiser eyes we see anew.
Perhaps having grown up, perhaps having sorted ourselves out, and learnt the hard way,
But now, wishing it was all a bad dream, rather than the folly of yesterday.
It seems that when we’re in our youth, (even a little older), we’re somewhat blind,
And that it’s not until many years later that twenty twenty vision we find —
Figuratively speaking, that is — and then, like someone who has regained their sight,
We see what we didn’t before, and where there was darkness, now there’s revealing light.
Yes, light that shows the true nature and painful consequences of those self-centred deeds,
And oh, how we regret our foolishness, how our more pure and sensitive heart bleeds,
For not just we are left suffering, but whoever was on the receiving end,
Be they a spouse, a son or daughter, a family member, a stranger or a friend.
If only younger bodies had older heads, far less cause for regret there would be,
But no, it seems that it’s not until later that we finally or clearer see.
And when we do, it’s sometimes with utter disbelief, and terrible pangs of pain,
For certain things we did before, we wouldn’t dream of doing now — and can’t explain.
By Lance Landall
14. When Love Will Have The Final Say
When I see love in action — love that’s genuine and true — I just know that there must be a plan for man,
One with the best of intentions, one that’s been awaiting its time — that is, since evil somehow began.
And I’ll keep on believing so, for there’s one thing I’m sure of — LOVE WILL TRIUMPH SOON — and permanently,
But not before we’ve seen the worst of evil, its final push to ensnare all, albeit temporarily.
Yes, I’ll take love’s side any day, for I have seen its fruitage, and thus know of its possibilities,
Unlike evil — a dead-end street — which, when it’s reigning within folk, just acts like a terminal disease,
One that’s contagious, though there is a cure for those who wish to be free of its poisonous infamy,
And that cure is love — pure, unadulterated love — for I have seen the results of its potency.
Oh yes, nothing works like love, nothing satisfies more — for love, unlike hate, is balanced and in harmony,
A beautiful holistic tree bursting with bountiful promises — yes, cheery growth that one can see.
A tree that keeps on giving, no thought for itself, but nourished and fed by its own generosity,
Each one of its flowers leaving a lasting sweetness in the air, one rich in selfless ancestry.
And why I just know that love’s the answer, and that in due season it will deliver, not disappoint,
Unlike evil, which leaves a bitter taste, a cruel legacy — not a home, but some sleazy rundown joint.
Yes, only love knows the way, only love provides hope, purpose and light, a coming solution filled day,
And why I won’t stop believing until that time when love will have the final say, and thus evil slay.
By Lance Landall
15. It's Our World
Dear fellow traveller, amidst the billions on this Earth — I’ve a message I wish to share, given your inheritance by birth, and your existing presence here.
This planet is yours and mine, it doesn’t belong solely to kings or queens, popes or presidents, prime ministers in residence, nor any government; even power or society behind the scenes, but rather, to us, the people — yes, not someone on a throne, behind an official desk, or ecclesiastically ensconced under some steeple.
No disrespect is intended here, but only the clear recognition, that this Earth belongs to humanity, you and I — in other words, us, we — not solely to those in power, regardless of their position, regardless of their authority, and including any majority, for humanity is also the minority, given that we’re all linked genetically, historically, and universally, and given that such is acting humanely, quite honestly.
Though rightful laws and order have their place, no one should seek to conquer and rule the human race, and all who would seek to do so, by stealth, legislation or might, wouldn’t have justification, would be lovers of darkness rather than light, who though pretending otherwise, would ultimately catch by surprise, thus displaying their true face.
Yes, this planet belongs to you and I, who likewise, pressure or force cannot justify, (despite how much we might try), for the birthright of all is freedom and liberty, (be that civil or religiously), the right to be left alone to live in peace and harmony, to be free from the evil plots, plans and tentacles of tyranny, and not to mention, the right to have access to every necessity.
Yes, we weren’t meant to be controlled, bought or sold, trampled on, sneeringly looked upon, coldly mistreated, shackled, persecuted or defeated, somehow abused, indifferently used, played with like marionettes, gathered together in plotter’s nets, nor considered as if just a clone, for we’ve a brain, a heart, a dream, a path, a life and purpose of our own, and were born to love not hate, and to goodness, mercy and kindness radiate, for such always works for the best, ensuring that all are blest, whereas hate just destroys, and all manner of evil employs, for it’s tied to lust and power, seeks to overthrow not empower, and all the while, oft hiding behind a smile, (which given time, quickly turns sour).
Though we’re humanity, we’re not some herd to be rounded up, processed and programmed physically, mentally or emotionally, nor were we meant to be serfs at the beck and call of bureaucracy, but rather, are individuals in our own right, little worlds of our own, with corresponding patents and copyright.
Yes, it’s our world, not the possession of a group, a majority, nor some man, who, were these given control — that is, of the world as a whole — would prove a threat to all, and eventually, flames of trouble just fan.
By Lance Landall
SAMPLE POEMS, CROSSOVER-RELIGIOUS
Why is God allowing it all?
It's this simple:
Heaven is God's headquarters from where He rules and runs the universe.
One of His subjects, a very privileged angel now called Satan, became jealous of Him, wanting to be equal with Him.
Such ended in open rebellion.
Satan was removed from Heaven, (he thus being the origin of sin, evil, suffering and wicked spirit beings), and has since sought our personal downfall, and total control over Earth and humanity.
As far as the latter goes, and despite trying, he hasn’t succeeded yet, but the Christian Bible warns that he soon will via a coming global power that will deceive. One that eventually demands worship. And this why God will never support any attempt to install such a government, and why His Word speaks ill of it.
If you wish to, check out Revelation chapter thirteen, verses eleven to eighteen.
Because God has given us the freedom and liberty to choose between Him and Satan, good and evil, the right path or wrong path, (God not wanting robots), He has to wait until that time when Satan will succeed.
This way the inhabitants of Earth, Heaven, and other created worlds will finally see Satan’s true heart and long term intentions — in other words, where such a heart and rebellion leads to. And this way there will never be another murmur against God, (who thinks in terms of eternity), Satan’s accusations will be proven groundless, and no one will want to follow in the likes of Satan’s selfish footsteps again.
Meantime God aches for an end to it all and promises that one day it will end.
He being the very same God who gave us a way out via Calvary, and the same God who secured the permanency of our race via a boat when He could’ve destroyed everyone via the global flood, or let them destroy themselves, which they would’ve given that there was only one family still living righteously, and thus they the occupants of that boat.
And God having always had our best intentions at heart because He’s the God of love and truth.
A God that Satan has always sought to misrepresent given that he has always been jealous of the glory and honour that God alone is due. And given that Satan is no doubt angry over his loss of Heaven and his fate to come, and why he'll take as many with him as he can.
16. Right In Front Of
Looking for answers, hope, love, a hero, one who could even rescue mankind?
Well, you’ll never beat that God who died to save us — and thus in blood, His love signed.
Oh, He’s real alright, eyewitnesses having seen and recorded such, and why
A cruel cross has become transformed, and a merciful advocate sits on high.
And hey, He not the one who’s responsible for all the pain and misery,
But a devil called Satan who thought he was riding high until Calvary.
And yes, he the one who has folk running after anything and everything,
Rather than the One who created us, a loving God who’ll deal with death’s sting.
So don’t let doubts or some evolution theory have you thinking otherwise,
For God is a God of truth, Earth’s creator, and Satan the father of lies,
Who, by the way, and right from the beginning, has challenged God’s authority,
Viscously attacked His Word, and via this avenue or that, sought His glory.
Yes, everything right in front of our noses, there all along, and yet folk stray
Away from the arms of a soon returning Saviour, and for what doesn't pay.
But isn’t that the way, we reaping what we sow, even finding out too late,
But God is gracious, and therefore, He slow to close Earth’s apocalyptic gate.
So if you’re looking for answers, hope, love, a super hero that you can trust,
Look no further than Jesus Christ, He faithful, all powerful, righteous and just.
And when the time is right, He’ll deal with that devil who tempts, afflicts and destroys,
And who in order to achieve his evil ends, disguised men on Earth employs.
Yes, there’s only one super hero, and it’s not Batman, this man or that man,
But a God that much evidence points to; and the impossible? — yes, He can!
For it was He who hung the stars in space, set this Earth spinning, and precisely,
He being a God of order and beauty who responds to folk personally.
And He not only left a paradise behind to save us, but risked it all,
And even died saying, “Forgive them, Father,” and, “Mind My mum, John,” I recall.
Now that’s Someone worth following, He suffering then and still suffering now,
Not just from more sinful nails, but from what He sees us suffer, yet must allow.
Oh, how He would’ve loved to have wrapped things up long ago, but the scene's not set
Whereby Satan gains total control of Earth via men who’ll aid and abet.
And then, (with Satan's ultimate intention seen), Christ will bring an end to it all,
And finally, and right here, His kingdom of peace, love and harmony install.
By Lance Landall
17. Welcome To The Family Of God
Yes, welcome to the family of God, those who now have hope beyond the grave,
For the very God who created mankind came to Earth in order to save.
So never doubt your decision, nor go back on it, as Satan wants you lost,
And hence why you should always stand firm for Jesus Christ no matter what the cost.
Oh, how He loves you, and how happy you’ve made Him, He who can’t wait to return,
And then He’ll take you in His outstretched arms and far more about His love you’ll learn.
For God is all about goodness, not that cruel picture that Satan paints, sadly,
Which sees many giving up or spurning the path that leads to eternity.
Yes, Satan will certainly put your new found faith to the test, but hang in there,
For God has promised He’ll always be with you and that one day He’ll soon appear.
And meantime He has also promised that He’ll give you all the strength that you’ll need,
For no one can make it on their own, and why daily on His Word you should feed.
Oh yes, you can trust Him alright, as He’ll be there through thick or thin, good or bad,
For He’s the best friend you could ever have, the finest example of a dad.
And He having sent the Holy Spirit to guide and not just empower you,
Given that discernment and His truths will serve you well, and staying near Him too.
So let me commend you on His behalf, for He’s so chuffed that you’ve chosen Him,
His way being the path to joy and peace, the devil’s path both deceptive and grim.
And why I’m so glad you’ve joined the family of God, chosen the One who cares,
And this more than proven by those ugly scars that each hand and foot of His bears.
Now that’s love! Pure, unadulterated, boundless, everlasting love, true love,
Love like you’ll never find on Earth, for it’s Divine — yes, no mere likeness above —
But everything you could wish for, it looking to the present and future, and,
It all courtesy of a God who’s suffered too, hence how He can understand.
And this why He’ll bear long with you, forgive your faltering but repentant steps,
Carry you when you’re tired and weary, be with you no matter how tough it gets.
And yes, there’ll be more expressions of His love within each day, within each year,
And an eternity of them when He finally arrives and shouts, “I’m here!”
By Lance Landall
Inspired by a special day, (a baptism), 6 December 2014
18. The God Of Emotions
Oh yes, Jesus has feelings too, hence that tragic setting at Gethsemane,
For there Christ was witnessed sweating drops of blood at the prospect of Calvary.
Oh, the weight of what He had to face, and failure being a possibility,
Hence why He fell with His face to the ground overwhelmed at the enormity,
And prayed: “My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me,”
And thrice He prayed such, though adding, “Yet not as I will, but as You will,” and then,
There He was at the tomb of Lazarus where He wept, touched by the sorrows of men.
Oh yes, Christ sure has feelings, has known rejection, grief and pain, (such is clear),
And therefore, how terribly unkind it would be to think that He doesn’t care.
Yes, many times He was moved by the plight of someone’s suffering, and still is,
For via His creating of Adam and Eve, every person on this Earth is His.
And oh, how He cares, hates the sad entrance of sin-cum-that great controversy,
Which, in order that He be vindicated, must reach its telling finale.
And why I holler, “What a great God of love He is!,” and I will tell you why:
At any time He could’ve easily and completely destroyed humanity,
And with every right given our rebelliousness, ungrateful insanity.
Yes, that sad lack of trust, that disbelief, as if we just found our own way here,
When it was He who created everything, design and not chance crystal clear.
So listen, friend, for when you’re down and out, backed in a corner or nursing pain,
There’s a Saviour who’s deeply moved by your distress and with keys to every chain.
And all you have to do is turn to Him, for everyone’s plight tugs at His heart,
And oh, how He longs for that day when both you and Him will never be apart.
The God of emotions who feared eternal separation from His Father,
And sweated drops of blood while His disciples slept, (we too, doing what we’d rather).
Yes, a God who wept at the tomb of Lazarus, mortality’s cold domain,
And whose heart wells up with the same deep emotion when we too cry out in pain.
And be that pain emotional or physical, Christ suffering from both too,
His hands and feet marred by ugly nails, His heart pierced by sin and words that weren’t true.
Oh, how He suffered, for He’s the God of emotions, emotions placed in you,
For we’ve been made in His image and thus were created with same feelings too.
By Lance Landall
19. The Mystery Of God's Love
Oh, the mystery of God’s love given how we wander from His side-cum-stray,
Given how we even turn our back on Him and foolishly go our own way,
And yet, there His love is, it unchanged and sure, it vigilant and unfailing,
But oh, off we go having forgotten those thorns, that cruel flogging and nailing.
Yes, our sleeping bag stashed behind God’s couch, as it were, we coming and going,
Our roving eyes paining our waiting Bridegroom who is all seeing and knowing,
And yet, though He could turn His back and has a right to, He still keeps wooing us,
For no one else’s love is as deep and forgiving as that displayed by Jesus.
Oh, how merciful and longsuffering He is — yes, such love a mystery,
Our one night stands and long term affairs constantly provoking His jealousy,
And yet, there He is, seeking, calling, even pleading, and where on Earth are we,
But seated in Satan’s playpen or coming and going indifferently.
Yes, the mystery of God’s love, we so undeserving of its warmth and grace,
And oh, how oft we take it for granted and our own crazy, selfish things chase,
And yet, God still persevering with us, hoping that we’ll be faithful and true,
For all that He has in store for us outshines those things we’re so prone to pursue.
And this why God is up all night, He pacing back and forth, His lantern glowing,
He peering into the darkness where ill winds are busy chilling and blowing.
Oh, how our Saviour yearns for our eternal company, our greatest well-being,
Which, once at home, and via the mystery of His love, we’ll never stop seeing.
By Lance Landall
20. Think Before You Knock Fundamentalists
That God himself is a fundamentalist is clear, He strict about His Word,
Stating that no one’s to subtract from it, or add to it, doing what’s preferred,
But rather, upholding it in its entirety, treating it with great care,
For its truths aren’t for sale — and its revelations, there for all to read and share.
Oh yes, God’s a fundamentalist alright, His Law-cum-commands more than proof,
His Word declaring boundaries, pointing out the way, delivering reproof.
Yes, love calling a spade a spade, even chastising, for what parent would not?
And thus God’s love directly related to His justice, free of stain and blot.
Therefore, a Christian who’s not a fundamentalist is hardly like His Lord,
But more an all-embracing liberal who’s travelling on a road that’s too broad.
Hence Christ’s call to get back on the straight and narrow, He not wanting any lost,
For He knows that rebellion can ultimately lead to an eternal cost.
Yes, “Every word of God proves true,” the Bible tells us, it sound and trustworthy,
But not so any fundamentalist who harms, kills or pushes heresy.
For God’s the God of love and truth, His wrath reserved for those who should know better,
For love knows nothing of wrong, and God’s will should be carried out to the letter.
But hey, liberals are seen to err too, many forcing their will on others,
And thereby, or somehow else, they injuring their fellow sisters and brothers.
And thus no one incapable of wrong doing, all of us sinners indeed,
But saved if repentant — and those who truly are, the will of God always heed,
And He, a loving fundamentalist, who, on our behalf, is seen to plead.
Yes, He a fundamentalist Saviour, straight talking, upright, true and clear,
Thus leaving none in doubt as to His wishes, they justifiable and fair.
Oh yes, for love provides a foundation, something sure, sound and beneficial,
Unlike liberality, it shifting sand and at loggerheads with God’s will.
And hence why God has His Law, those principles and standards seen throughout His Word,
All of which have stood the test of time, unlike those worldly ways more oft preferred;
And why folk keep repeating history, for on the wayward side of God’s fence,
There only lies trouble and a fundamental truth: Man’s way never makes sense.
No, Christ was never a radical but just Himself and thus true to His Word.
By Lance Landall
"Violence and murder are never the way of the enlightened but those who’ve diseased hearts and minds, those who’ve taken leave of their senses, those who’ve been wrongly fed or brainwashed, and all of them misusing their liberty — and remember this: That our true character is revealed by the way we treat everyone."
BEST INTERESTS MY PERSONAL MISSION.
to see what we need
to see than be forced
to see what pains more
we regard every human as a precious and sacred creation, (never to be
violated in any way), and the well-being of creatures and this Earth as
our duty, we’ll never progress beyond where we are, except in mere
outward appearance perhaps.
website only endorses rightful, non-destructive-cum-non-violent
My poems began around 2002, my website was founded in 2005, and 1000 poems were penned by May 2012 — that figure having become a goal. Now to potter.