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Saturday, April 4, 2015

A Cold White Stone

Redemption is such heavy work,
A cold white stone rolled back.
An empty tomb and linen cloths,
Come dawn a caring claque.

Freedom comes in tiny steps
One cold white stone at a time.
This holy task will drain you
As will a mountain climb.

In forty days he spoke His words,
Showed us his side and hands.
His soldiers first resisted change
But soon were His firebrands.

They spoke of the cold white stone
And were found to be State traitors.
Punished for telling His love story
To a merry band of haters.

Redemption is such heavy work,
A cold white stone rolled back.
Without His Light you’re apt to see
Nothing more than black.

          by Benny Bell

lifeslittleverses - © 2015
all rights reserved

Friday, April 3, 2015

The Greatest Story

The Greatest Story
Has long been told
For us to read
In scriptures old.

The Story tells of a final supper
With wine and bread to pass,
Of betrayal sitting at His side.
It was the very first Mass.

We ponder His Greatest Story
Written in so many ways,
Including bloody tortures.
So it was in ancient days.

New times are too a story
Of bloody death and rage.
If not for The Greatest Story
We dare not turn the page.

          by Benny Bell

lifeslittleverses - © 2015
all rights reserved

Thursday, April 2, 2015

Atheists in Kitchens

Atheists seek empirical proof
For all they cannot see,
From mention of holy angels
To praying on bended knee.

Their pitch is finely honed
Sharp as a soldier’s lance
And finely crafted like a curse
That leaves nothing to chance.

Bother not to argue finer points
Of Faith and God and religion.
The best you will do in battle
Won’t be worth a smidgen.

Atheists see death as void
Without a trace of spirit.
No mention of truthfulness
Or if it has any merit.

Atheists are feeling bold, today,
Been reading too much Hitchens.
Wearing beliefs on their sleeve
While touting them in kitchens.

     by Benny Bell

lifeslittleverses - © 2015
all rights reserved

Wednesday, April 1, 2015

On Remaining Silent

Are only children in our midst
To be seen, not heard?
A child would not blaspheme
Or vilify The Word.

When we become adults,
Within the age of reason,
It might be better to be silent
Than be charged with treason.

But there are those who wait
For you to break your quiet,
Looking for the chance to say,
“Your words have caused a riot.”

Remaining silent is a ploy
That might be all in vain.
The judges wants more than that -
They want what’s in your brain.

    by Benny Bell

lifeslittleverses - © 2015
all rights reserved

Tuesday, March 31, 2015

Jesus Anointed at Bethany - Mark 14:3-9

"Christ at Simon the Pharisee"
Pieter Pauwel Rubens - 1618-20

Those present were so quick to criticize
3. While he was in Bethany,
reclining at the table
in the home of Simon the Leper.
A woman came with an alabaster flask of ointment,
of pure nard, very costly,
and she broke the flask
and poured it over his head."

And they muttered under their breath
4. Why was the ointment wasted like that?

Still not giving rest they took to scolding her
5. For this ointment could have been sold for more than three hundred denarii and given to the poor.

Jesus, His patience tried, spoke out for the others:
6. Leave her alone. Why do you trouble her? She has done a beautiful thing to me.

The Anointed One reminded them of this very fact of life
7. For you always have the poor with you, and whenever you want, you can do good for them. But you will not always have me.

Then He spoke that we wished ourselves to say,
8. She has done what she could; she has anointed my body beforehand for burial.

with no better prophesy of the times ahead He said
9. And truly, I say to you, wherever the gospel is proclaimed in the whole world, what she has done will be told in memory of her.

And it is remembered when Jesus was anointed in Bethany.

by Benny Bell

lifeslittleverses - © 2015
all rights reserved

Monday, March 30, 2015

The Week of Passion

Sit by me my little child
I’ll tell you about The Lord.
He came here to tell us all
Never to live by the sword.

We don’t know much about Him
When He was a lad like you.
Once at twelve He did decide
To preach to a very few.

He grew to be a Young Man.
And led a miraculous life.
Knew the Scriptures well enough
To caused a lot of strife.

His sacred earthly Master Plan
Slowly came to fruition.
In an olive garden of sleepy men
He clearly saw His Mission.

Come close to me my little child,
This is the Week of Passion.
You’re too young to understand
And I’m too old to fashion.

If I’m around another day
And you’re still willing to listen.
Maybe we can both figure out
What it takes to be a Christian.

    by Benny Bell

lifeslittleverses - © 2015
all rights reserved

Sunday, March 29, 2015

Palms on the Wall

A path was paved with palms
The way it would be for a king.
Palms waved wildly in the air,
Oh the rancor it would bring.

The crowd they loved Him so.
Their praise was second nature.
He was the Holy King on earth
With bonds to The Creator.

But stately powers that ruled
Would not have two kings or three.
This open show of love for Him
Did not bring the royals glee.

The Chief Priests huddled,
Awaiting the traitor’s palm
Plucked from the parade path
As if an unholy psalm.

The traitor came to ply his wares
Bartered in exchange for gold.
So many more came after him,
The Holy Story forever told.

Then accounts were written,
Changing the world forever.
Palms on your wall remind you
Traitors are not so clever.

by Benny Bell

lifeslittleverses - © 2015
all rights reserved