Praise and Poetry II

[navyblue]

The Side to Cast
By Arley Steinhour 041413

Don't call me maybe,
Nor, once in a while,
That god, a wannabe,
My God, walked my Mile.

So many dark sides,
In this, our world,
Some call bonafide,
Yet, is False Flag unfurled.

Through Lies, and the knife,
It flutters and waves,
Bringing on, only Strife,
Winning more Slaves.

These are People Haters,
Who enjoy killing Man,
Like 'Slave Agitators,'
And, call it 'god's Plan.'

We stay fear, believing,
We won't, open that door,
For murder's relieving,
Yet, we die on the floor.

They think they are doing,
The Call of their god,
As you do your Showing,
Of who wields the God-Rod.

Some, will find Mercy,
Most, will you curse,
All, soon bow the knee,
Isaiah 45: twenty-three, the verse.
AMEN

To the 'Left,' cast the net,
No catch there, and, yet,
Cast the net, to the 'Right,'
Harvest through, Dark of Night.
Archive & Pic. at: www.mccookgazette.com/blogs/1580/entry/52649/

[navyblue]

Patriotic Dream
By Arley Steinhour 041413

Forgetting my training,
Or losing my mind,
I rant and I rave,
Frustrations, unwind.

If I had revolutionary verve,
Not just imagination, with hype,
My dream, would rattle my nerve,
Without the 'Correctness Tripe.'

In a crowd, to celebrate Patriosity,
Political correctness, they wanted to see,
Until, the folks who opened the show,
Gave directions on where we should go.

America the Beautiful,
The festive opening song,
In the name of 'Correctness,'
We should only hum along

Our humming started out real fine,
Hum, hum, hum, and Ho-hum,
didn't take long for me to know,
This humming, was really dumb.

So, with my usual tenderness,
I decided to rebel,
And if it didn't come out right,
They'd think it came from hell.

'My Country tis of Thee,
Sweet land of Liberty,
It was given to you and me,
By God on high, now, can you see?'

Singing the song, at first alone,
'From every countryside, let freedom ring,'
What part don't they understand,
That is the heart of freedom land.

I guess, whenever man's involved,
A Country can't be run perfectly,
Making more problems, than ever solved,
We do the best we can, you see.

We now have 'intruders,' that come,
From lands, not nice, nor free,
Without legal permission, for some,
To escape poverty and slavery.

They come, but, problems soon ensue,
They want to be 'Equal,' but reject the Jew,
'This land of the free is OK, too,'
With Sharia Law, they won't be Blue.

Now wait a cotton picking minute,
Who said you could come without changing,
You want to run away from all-that,
Reject the old ways, not 'Freedom rearranging.'

You tell us, 'we are peaceful people,'
From what I see, that's 'a bucket full,'
Deep down, you want to subjugate,
Once you can flush us away, as stool.

This is my land, the land of the free,
And before it is too late for you,
Adapt, so that your people,
Don't end up in a Prison Zoo.

You'd make the law, Sharia,
Where women are naught but cattle,
Children made, for blowing up,
Behind them, your killing prattle.

Oops, I'm way off subject,
I need to change back to pace,
America the Beautiful, elect,
And again, we're off to the race.

We bellowed out the notes, and words,
As loud as we could, with lung,
We finished like stampeding cattle,
Without a single note, unsung.

Everyone had joined with me
Couldn't hear anyone that hummed,
If you could have heard, you'd see,
We weren't electric plumbs.

With attitude of, 'Go bake a pie,
Or stick your thumb in eye,'
We put the world on notice, no lie,
You can take my freedom, only as I die.

The good old bunch of men in blue,
Were coming for me, strong,
To arrest, or throw me out, it seemed,
I was no longer part of the throng.

The people saw them coming,
And, quickly closed in on me,
Turned their back and faced the law,
To keep me from being 'up a tree.'

There was a flash, I saw that night,
Patriotism flickered quite bright,
If it works, like an old flint-lock,
The spark, might burn the powder bright.

I know we study prophecy,
To resist that which is wrong,
I pray that my rebellion dream,
Is not cooped up, in just one song.

I want to put back, the Throne and Lyre,
David's, where it ought to be,
With Satan in his lake of fire,
Having tours, so all can see.

Satan comes, bearing gifts,
Like, wealth's notoriety;
The only souls receiving anything free,
Is the Gift, from Jesus, to you and me.

AMEN

We know they're only joking,
Their friendly as can be,
With smile on lips, they're stoking,
A funeral pyre, for you and me.
(Nigeria 2011, 200 Christians)
Archive & pic. at: www.mccookgazette.com/blogs/1580/entry/52652/

[navyblue]

Mission in Life
By Arley Steinhour 041513

His favorite gun, a Water Gun,
The kind that shot Torpedo's,
Hidden from Sun, was the most fun,
After Hot chili, and eating burrito's.

He lived his life, as few men do,
Plying waters, of Oceans Blue,
In Silent Service, deep of wing,
Where Water guns, ruled as King.

Silver Dolphins, on his massive chest,
Plus strength of two, enjoyed the test,
For months on end, no Sun could shine,
In dark cold home in a water-mine.

The life below, proved the best,
Working with others of equal jest,
Mission focus, consumed the life,
Upon completion, return to wife.

On Surface ships, he rode them too,
On top of the oceans wavy stew,
Two types of life, diverse to the other,
Those on the Sea, are still the brother.

For Twenty years, a man at sea,
But, still, five children grace his tree,
Only one, wanted to join the Navy,
Worked for President, six years of gravy.

Four sons, and a daughter, made him proud,
Diverse in life choice, skilled, without cloud,
Worthy of watching, doing their best,
I guess, my family has passed the test.

Children of God, Reborn in the Son,
Reaching out in a way, and making it fun,
My children no more, though born of the 'Ring,'
Only, our God, be our Master, and King.

AMEN

The 336 was my first Submarine Ride,
No snorkel, no Sail, but loaded with pride,
On its first War Patrol, Nineteen Forty Five,
Japan surrendered; the whole crew survived.
Archive & pic. at: www.mccookgazette.com/blogs/1580/entry/52673/

[navyblue]

My Muddle Puddle
By Arley Steinhour 041613

Dear Father God,
You know my pains, as well as pleasures,
You know my debts, and hidden treasures,
You know my heart, Mortal Indentures,
You know my path, Eternal Adventures.

My Poetic plot, is Praising words,
Some flit about, like startled birds,
No real thought, about what to do,
Yet, all my focus, is full on you.

May I be worthy, through your grace,
To be a winner, of your Royal race,
The race on earth, through mortality,
This Prep School, where I learn to 'Be.'

What can we be, before your face,
With your blessing, we win the race,
Like Moses learned, from the start,
Only through you, develops a heart.

People, seem to be unconscious,
Events scream, 'Tribulation is upon us,'
Unaware, of what's going-down,
They call Christians, 'End Times, Clown.'

Come soon, and snatch us from the Beast,
Take us home, to the Wedding Feast,
For Seven years, we will 'Party-down,'
'Left Behind,' learns how to truly-frown.

I make a great muddle puddle
Only Holy Spirit, can un-befuddle,
With our words of praise to you,
So they'll know our hearts are true.

We praise you on the mountain,
We praise you in the dale,
Our praise to you, our fountain,
Full of love, that doesn't pale.

No matter what they try to do,
Your strength will see them through,
To leave them, standing tall and free,
Trib-Saints, turn their hearts to thee.

Resisting well, the hounds of Hell,
Many fall, as our forefathers fell,
Gathering the last of Christian man,
For Millennial Kingdom, as you plan.

There it is, Lord, my muddle puddle,
Holy Ghost might need to huddle,
To figure out what I just said,
Mumbling here, in my nice warm bed.
AMEN

Good morning God, I'm confused,
Was that my Last Prayer, I just used,
I hate to think you plugged your ears,
So I must talk to self, for eternal years.
Archive & pic. at: www.mccookgazette.com/blogs/1580/entry/52697/

[navyblue]

I offer this to anyone and everyone, to celebrate your Birthday, whenever it be, but especially, if you haven't yet turned your heart over to Jesus. No one, IMO, has too many of these left to make their choice. God knows:

Happy Birthday
By Arley Steinhour 041713

Three-sixty-four, you stay alive,
Just to reach Three-sixty-five,
The day when you can celebrate,
Your very special Birthday date.

You started life, unable to see,
Even a hint of future destiny,
Born into this, your mortality,
To prepare yourself for eternity.

Each youngster year of mortal life,
The day celebrated, be free of strife
Friends and family gathered-round
So they might make a joyful sound.

For this occasion, of your birthday
Some have planned for this play,??
The day filled to brim with festivity,
Praise and gifts, from all you see,

Somewhere you'll notice, you did age,
Call it, I guess, your Birthday wage,
The years you grew, and didn't see,
Is, you're condemned to mortality.

"Condemned," perhaps a very bold word,
A word you may wish, you've never heard,
Unless you find that Spiritual part,
Waiting beyond, within mortal heart.

Opening the heart, accepts Birthday gift,
That heals the wound, that caused a rift,
Between you and Jesus, before it's too late,
Decide where you go, when you graduate,

There's only one path, with Torment, and Pain,
Gnashing of teeth, as tears fall like rain,
The 'broad-way,' that's made for the other,
As one condemned, neither sister, nor brother.

Better Choice, some think not as much 'fun,'
Where you have rules, eternally Won,
That of Jesus the Christ, Son of God,
Birthday a great day, to refresh His Nod.

All of our actions, He sets aside,
What we think, say, and do, be Certified,
We are born mortal, yet hold much sway,
Determining our focus upon, our Birthday,

So Happy Birthday, that it may be,
A day filled with Joy, for you I see,
As you celebrate yet, another year,
After, three sixty four, Three-Sixty-Five Cheer.

AMEN

Each Birthday Cake is different,
Each represents a lifetime spent,
From Birth, to graduation, bent,
With Jesus, Satan, can't circumvent.
Archive & pic. at: www.mccookgazette.com/blogs/1580/entry/52720/

[navyblue]

Snow Blessing Prayer
By Arley Steinhour 041813

I woke up this morning,
A man on the go,
Without hesitation,
Got up, to a show;

A show from the window,
This bright summer day,
Three inches of white snow,
So, at home I'll just stay.

I'd hoped to go shopping,
Buy food, for the larder,
With my bruise hobbled legs,
Snow makes walking much harder.

Think I'll go shopping some other day,
Won't even think of slip sliding away,
Pancake and eggs, my wisdom pay,
For living today, in mortality's sway.

The news on my PC, scary at best,
How unsafe life, who would-of guessed
Weird people, can, with bomb-powder breath,
Cause pain and suffering, and dismemberment death.

We, being Christian, can't understand,
How Times can get that far 'out of hand,'
Choosing a victim, is terribly wrong,
But, 'just anybody,' is a Jihad type song.

Chanting, and praising,
Celebrating their wrong,
May see your wrath raising,
Before very long.

Dear God, please bless them,
To Turn from killing ways,
Accepting your Love-Truth,
Unto Eternal-Life-Praise.

They think they serve you,
Killing, your chosen Bride,
They believe Satan's Lies,
With eyes open wide.

Speak to their hearts,
Awaken their Souls,
So, as brothers and sisters,
They change to Your Goals.

AMEN

Nothing flashy or extolling,
When people are dying,
Pandemonium, controlling,
Life-saving, or Trying.
Archive & pic. at: www.mccookgazette.com/blogs/1580/entry/52740/

[navyblue]

American Jihad
By Arley Steinhour 042013

Twas said, of Jihad in America,
We thought it couldn't be,
Things like that, against the Law,
Don't hang from Freedom's Tree.

The Boston Race Explosions,
Prove, we can be wrong,
Disrespecting other institutions,
Promotes their Jihad Song.

We don't believe as they do,
Lifestyle, we live, they think wrong,
And they most piously eschew,
But to this country they do throng.

The freedoms here, they do love,
Yet, they suffer the dichotomy,
Between the free, and their 'Above,'
Jihad, must destroy, all that's Free.

The Christian mind, don't understand,
The way Jihad people think,
'Murder is a blessing,' to them,
Before their god, they don't blink.

We may have waited far too long,
To see the writing on the wall,
Two beliefs, that can't get along,
Must clash, and one must fall.

The Bible indicates to me,
Our God knows what is best,
Say good-by to Land of Free
So Satan can be put to 'Rest.'

What seems to be our defeat,
Will be our strongest lure,
That we can praise at Jesus' feet,
And His Kingdom be Satanless, Pure.
AMEN

Exhausted runners win their fight,
The finish line, in sight,
Jihad cowards show their light,
For mankind, it's dark as night.
Archive & pic. at: www.mccookgazette.com/blogs/1580/entry/52772/

[navyblue]

HEART SONG
By Arley Steinhour 042013

Hometown Doctor said 'Have no Fear,'
Doctor there knows, we are here,
Sharp dude that Doctor Denney man,
Hometown boy, who lends a hand.

Cardiologist, so they say,
Worthy of his given pay,
I made him mad the other day,
And hope he forgives, that I pray.

Anyhow, it takes a while,
To settle up, and earn a smile,
The ways that we once did play,
No longer is, the proper way.

Heart may be named the same,
Equipment and procedure, a different strain,
Safely, they say, fixes the heart to their fame,
If I play my part, without being a Pain.

Ready to go, I roll on my left side,
Plunger pushed, went quickly to sleep,
Suddenly, my eyes opened wide,
Seems there was a clot in the Keep.

'We'll try again, in thirty more days,'
Cardiologist said, to my chagrin,
We couldn't Convert, Safety stays,
I couldn't smile, with a grin.

Another month of waiting,
An anxious month of concern,
Another month, anticipating,
My conversion from path of the Urn.

I know just where I'm going,
When Jesus calls me home,
Before Him with my Love showing,
Eternally, never more to Roam.
AMEN

Fibrillating hearts don't show well,
The kind of dance they're doing,
So, I'm stuck with the 'Hard Sell,'
My heart is just doing the Hula-thing.
Archive & pic. at: www.mccookgazette.com/blogs/1580/entry/52774/

[Keith]

You OK Arley?

[Caretaker]

Dear Father envelope our Brother with Your love, and please move and minister in every area of need in Jesus' name. Thank You Father.

[Murph]

In Jesus Name,
Amen.

[navyblue]

Thanks for all of your kind words. I am fine, considering, I can't lose. If they can fix me, I live on, in Mortality, praising Jesus/God, and should they not be able to adjust the timing in my bio-engine, I go Home to the Great Physician, for Eternal Joy. I am a very Lucky Boy. ;D
Baruch Atah Mishbucha

[navyblue]

George Beverly Shea
By Arley Steinhour 042113

Dear Father God,
The other day, one came Home,
The man, George Beverly Shea,
To sing his Praise, before Your Throne,
Love for You, in his pure loving way.

You let him stay on earth,
For years, One Hundred Four,
From the day of his birth,
You had marked him for more.

With voice, Rich Baritone,
That impacted the Soul,
He could lift hearts alone,
To help Billy's teaching goal.

When they finished the evening,
With prayer, called Repentant down,
To release their Sinful deceiving,
And be worthy of a Crown.

You know how great be his Reward,
How glorious his Crown,
Earned by voice, never a sword,
May he never have made you frown.

I pray he's singing will welcome us,
Your Church, Your Eternal Bride,
When you snatch us home, we trust,
Before Tribulation events provide.

Perchance, Bev's coming Home to you,
Lends a Mortal exclamation mark,
On events, that to you, would be Untrue,
After Boston heard the, Hounds of Hell, Bark.
AMEN

Who is that man with the Silver Voice,
That appeals to the heart for a Choice,
He be a part of Jesus Election,
This man passing all inspection.
Archive & pic. at: www.mccookgazette.com/blogs/1580/entry/52778/

[Keith]

navyblue said:

Thanks for all of your kind words...

Please keep us updated on your condition, Arley, and may the Lord bring you into good health, in Jesus' Name, amen.

[navyblue]

Thanks, Keith, I'll do that. I'm hoping to make the Rapture, so, on the way I can recite my poetry to a captive audience. I always wanted to play the Palace; New Jerusalem will do fine. (^8

[navyblue]

Penny Saved
By Arley Steinhour 042113

Today, there was something I did espy,
A coin lay at the edge of the walk,
Of course, I began to wonder why,
The coin just lay there, unable to talk.

Should people believe what I just said,
I'll offer this grand thought, so true,
'It's voice started ringing in my head,
I retrieved it as a message from You.'

Twas a crusty, dusty, penny there,
Crying out, 'I'm yours,' to my heart,
So, I rubbed off the dust, as only fair,
Before I read the written message part.

Before you ask, how I know it was mine,
And I answer with wisdom quite hokey,
The message began at beginning of time,
And now stands as my personal Peace-key.

The penny quickly reminds me,
Be at peace, and never complain,
Two sides together tells me I'm free,
In this mortal, plus my Heavenly plain.

The White house, on side one, is a must,
With 'United States of America,' plus 'one-cent,'
The other, Abe Lincoln, 'In God We Trust,'
And 'Liberty,' meaning I'm Heaven bent.

So, I pick up every penny I see,
To my heart, a message from God,
With Repentance, be the best I can be,
And I'll never suffer the Iron Rod.

My Reward will be a Bright Golden Crown,
To cast before him, and to wear eternally,
I cast before Him, as he never let me down,
And I wear, for being part of His Family.'
AMEN

I don't want to stumble,
I do not want to fail,
With reminder penny, I mumble,
'At this rate, I'll need a bigger pail.'
Archive & pic. at: www.mccookgazette.com/blogs/1580/entry/52782/

[Keith]

Apr 21, 2013 14:14:58 GMT -6 navyblue said:

Thanks, Keith, I'll do that. I'm hoping to make the Rapture, so, on the way I can recite my poetry to a captive audience. I always wanted to play the Palace; New Jerusalem will do fine. (^8

;D

[navyblue]

Decisions Staid
By Arley Steinhour 042313

Soon Lord Soon,
You be coming for your Bride,
Coming just before,
Unrepentant, need to hide.

End of Era,
With events of sinful day,
Creates Caldera,
A great grave, where many stay.

Seven years,
Half being Hell on Earth,
Death and Tears,
On those refusing Second Birth.

Light the Way,
Though they blindly will not see,
Light the 'Day,'
So in darkness none need be.

Great White Throne,
Satan gone, and Judgment made,
Life Book, alone,
Proves Decisions we have Staid.

AMEN

At Great White Throne,
All Life Choices met,
Be it lake of Fire, alone,
Or Eternal Life, as Final Vet.
Archive & pic. at: www.mccookgazette.com/blogs/1580/entry/52807/

[navyblue]

RECALL NOTICE

A Thousand Words, or Years, say's not, as this photo does.
www.mccookgazette.com/blogs/1580/entry/52832/

[Keith]

Apr 24, 2013 16:32:27 GMT -6 navyblue said:

RECALL NOTICE

A Thousand Words, or Years, say's not, as this photo does.
www.mccookgazette.com/blogs/1580/entry/52832/

Beautiful image, Arley.