Realisation & Declamation

A Selection of Poems

Anthony Bright-Paul

Copyright © 2005 by Anthony Bright-Paul

Cover Illustration—Detail from Florentine Interior 1989 by Harold Hitchcock. Reproduced with kind permission of Harold and Leonard Hitchcock

One Great Miracle
A Tombstone for my Father
The Privilege of Life
A Great Hash
Cocktail for the Almighty
An Elegy for Enid
Inspired by the Battle of Badr
Marmalade on my Toast
Brutto Porco
Attribute of Love
Without the Prophets
Life and Death
Parental Bullshit
The Wedding of the Elephants
Sans Les Prophètes
El Priviligeo de la Vida
Sin Los Profetas

One Great Miracle

Nobody thinks it a miracle
That we can fall asleep
And then awaken...
Nobody thinks it a miracle
That through the night
We keep on breathing
No one thinks it a miracle
That without thought
Without any sort of volition
Our hearts continue to pump...
Nobody thinks it a miracle
That after a long night's rest
We should awaken...
But isn't it truly a miracle
That when we awake
We are living, we are breathing
We are alive?

Nobody thinks it a miracle
That we can eat
Not merely eat, but
We can swallow
Nobody thinks it a miracle
That we can swallow...
That we can swallow
Without choking
But it is, it is a miracle
That we can eat and swallow
And not choke

Nobody thinks it a miracle
That the sun rises
As the stars fade away
Nobody thinks it a miracle
Because it is a commonplace thing
But the whole thing is a miracle
It is a miracle that night follows day

Nobody thinks it a miracle
When the autumn leaves fall
And are falling
Because every Autumn they fall
We may admire the colours, yet
Nobody thinks it a miracle
That the Spring buds already appear

Nobody thinks it a miracle
That if I say "Look" we can look
Did anyone teach you to look?
Did anyone teach you to hear?
Has anyone taught you to taste?
No-one has taught us to sense and to feel
Everything everything is a miracle

We take for granted
The Great Life Force
We take for granted
The night and the day
The sun and the stars
We take for granted
That we can move
That we can move our limbs
That we can sit or stand
That we can dance or stay still

Everything everywhere
Everything everywhere
If only we pause
If only we think
Everything is just
One Great Miracle

Tony Bright-Paul December 01


Without a browser
You can have
No connection to the Internet

Without a psyche
You can have
No connection to your soul

God is everywhere sending us emails
If we don't switch on
Then how can we receive them?

Anthony Bright-Paul December 01

A Tombstone for my Father

I never knew my father well
He was in Africa
While I was at school
All through the war
And when he came back
He didn't stay long
He went back to Africa again.

As I grew up
He wrote to me
He loved to correspond
He wanted to 'cross swords.'
He did his best
From far away to keep contact
With his son.

My father was a free-thinker
An agnostic, a follower
Of George Bernard Shaw
Not a religious man at all
Not a churchgoer.

And when late in life
I introduced him to
A brotherhood above
All religion
He felt nothing at all
Or so he said.

And when my mother had died
And he was alone in his flat
In Capetown
With just his housekeeper
He was taken ill
And for some days he could not eat.
Then this agnostic Dad of mine
Suddenly had a series of visions.
He saw Eastern gentlemen
Prostrating themselves in his room
He looked right through Table Mountain
He could see the ships beyond.
Lions and cats roamed in his flat
And he stroked them.
Beautiful women floated
Edwardian dressed, into
His living room.

I still have the tape
With every detail.
Now I suppose you could say
The poor man was sick
He was in his dotage
He was over eighty
He was hallucinating.

But I don't believe that was the case.
It wasn't that he was seeing things
So much
That we are missing things.
We are so dross, so dull,
So numbed of sense
That we are missing
The wonders all around.

When my father was ninety-one
He was coming to the end
And I flew out to be with him
And we sat on the veranda
Of the hospital, and talked.

And I was curious
I wanted to know
I wanted to know
If he knew he was dying.
It's hardly a thing you can ask directly
It's not exactly delicate
To ask a dying man
How it feels to be on his way out.

So I asked him about his visions
Whether they altered his views
On the after life.

He answered my thoughts.
"Tony," he said,
"I'm not afraid to die."

I'm not afraid to die.

Can you imagine that?
You know, he wasn't ill.
It's true he could not see
He could not hear too well
Those of you who have read
Georgy Ivanovich Gurdjieff's
"All and Everything"
Will understand
He was coming to the end
Of his Bobbinkandelnosts - He was dying of old age.
How many of you
Who might doubt his visions
How many of you
Can say
"I'm not afraid to die."

And when he did die
A few days after I returned to England
On my son's sixteenth birthday
I felt tremendous pride
Mingled with shame
Shame that I'd given him so little time
And pride
That he was not afraid
To die.

Tony Bright-Paul Feb '93


It is impossible, it is utterly impossible
To understand the Holy Books
With the mind

It is likewise impossible
It is likewise totally impossible
To understand the Sacraments
With the mind

It does not matter what scholarship
It does not matter what acumen
It does not matter if everything
Is studied with the mind

The mind cannot possibly comprehend
The mind will argue
The mind will assess
The mind will look at the texts
At the translations
The mind will pore over minutiae
But the mind can never comprehend
The Holy Books

Do you really imagine
Can one really imagine
That the Prophets, God's Prophets,
Can one really believe
That the Prophets of God
Disagreed one with another?

Do you think that Moses and Abraham
Do you think that our Lord Jesus
Could be at odds, could disagree
With the Holy Prophet Mohammed?

Yes, of course, with the mind
If one read the Books,
The Scriptures,
If everything is read with the mind
Then there is argument
There is disputation

But when the Soul is opened
When the Feelings are uncovered
When we can weep as we're reading
The Gospels, The Torah,
The Holy Koran
Then all the Holy Books
Then all the Prophets
They are as one

Say: if one reads St John
If one reads St John with the mind
It is totally, totally without meaning...
The Word was in the beginning
In the beginning the Word was...
How can a Word be at the beginning?
It is meaningless, read
With the mind

O Lamb of God that taketh
Away the sins of the world...
How can the mind
How can the mind alone
Assess such a statement?

But once that a man is opened
When the soul of a man has been opened
When man has received
A Gift from God
Then can he hear the true meanings
Of things that seem contradictory
Of things that seem impossible...

Man must go to his Church
Man must go to his Mosque
We must go to these innermost places
And when we're inside in the cave
When we are in that space
Then out of the dark comes that light
Then comes, yes, then comes the Word
Then verily comes the meaning
Then everything's reconciled

There are not many religions
There is only One God
Glory to God and His Prophets...
I cannot speak with my lips
I cannot think with my mind
I can know only my Knowing
I cannot tell whence it's coming
But it comes from
Beyond the mind

Anthony Bright-Paul December 17th '01

The Privilege of Life

It is a great privilege to be born
It is a great privilege to have a body
To have a vehicle
I believe
That millions and millions of souls
Are waiting, waiting
For just this privilege
Waiting to be born

It is a great privilege
A very great blessing
That we have this vehicle
That we have this body
This body that is breathing
This body that is feeling
This body that is thinking
This body
That is alive

It is a great privilege to be born
To have a span of life
To have a period of creation
To have a chance
To return to the source of our beginnings

It is a great privilege to have a Life
It is a great privilege
That we can move
It is a great privilege that our soul
Has a vehicle
Where it can grow

It is a great sin for us
To be miserable
When we have this chance
This opportunity of creation

Surely it is clear
That through this life
We have a chance
An opportunity to grow
Another vehicle

Our body is a vehicle for the soul
Or should be
But the Satanic forces come
We are overtaken
We are ruled
By greed, by bestiality
By hatred, by unkindness
Our body is ruled
By everything that is unhappy
That is totally miserable

We were not born for misery
We were born, surely we were born
To enjoy the fruits of the earth
To enjoy every aspect of living
To enjoy that we can see
To enjoy the movement of our limbs
To enjoy the growth of our feelings
To enjoy our understanding, our intellect
To enjoy the companionship of our fellows
And our wives and children

So it is a great sin to be miserable
To cut off our connection with our soul
Everything is a sin that severs
That connection
Everything that reinforces, that creates
That connection
That is praising God
That is praying

We don't need to say Hallelujah!
We don't need to kneel on the ground
What good are a hundred prostrations
If a gun is near our hand?

It is a great privilege to be living
It is a time for creation
Our body can't last forever
Our Life that is our chance
That is our chance for creating
The vehicle for our soul

Anthony Bright-Paul December '01

A Great Hash

We've made a great hash of Love.
We've no idea what it means any more.
At best it's polarity
At worst it's grief and hurt and frustration -
As if longing and suffering
Were anything to do with Love.

And they've made a nonsense of Faith.
I mean the preachers
Who don't show us Faith
But ask of us credulity.
They want us to believe
Impossible childish things
Or strange theological concepts -
As if saying "I believe..."
Constitutes Faith.

And what about Hope?
As if the ultimate Hope
Was to hit the jackpot
On the pools
To buy a big house
With carpets and drapes
To own a fast car -
As if that was Hope.

We've made a great hash
Of Faith and Love and Hope
Thank God there is one Impulse left
Beyond the mind
Beyond the reach of man.

Anthony Bright-Paul Feb '93


Some people believe that the earth is flat
Others that the earth is round
Does it make any difference
To what

Some people believe that God
Created the earth in seven days
While others that there was a big bang!
Does it make any difference
To what

Some people believe that Jesus
Is the Son of God
While Muslims believe that Jesus
Was a Prophet of God.
But the reality of what Jesus was
Can any of us truly comprehend?

When men differ on Belief
They slay each other with the sword.
How many people have been burned
Or tortured or examined
All because of their Belief.
And has that made any difference
To what

Tony Bright-Paul Feb '93

Cocktail for the Almighty

Is there anyone around
Who does not want to be loved?
To be valued?
To be admired?

We should all read again
"The Cocktail Party"
By T.S.Eliot.

Maybe we are ourselves unlovable
Maybe totally unloving.

Even for Our Creator
It must sometimes
Be a Hell of a job.

Tony Bright-Paul Feb '93


Can one really imagine
That the Good Lord
Sent down His Messengers
To cause grief and friction?
To contradict one another?

Can one sincerely believe
That the God
Of Isaac and Jacob and Abraham
Is any other than
God the Father
That Jesus taught?

"There is no God but God
And Mohammed is His Prophet"
Is a concept so utterly Christian -
Yet how many Christians have ever read
The Koran?
Or the Mathnawi by the great Persian poet
Jallal-uddin Rumi?

How many Christians realise
That in Islam
Nabi Isa (that is Jesus)
And Nabi Ibrahim (that is Abraham)
Are revered as His Prophets?

Can one really imagine
That the 'jihad,' the holy war
Was sent by God
To cause war between
Muslim and Christian?

The infidel is not outside
The infidel is within
Within us all.
The jihad is the holy war,
The struggle between 'I' and 'myself'
The struggle between
The affirming and denying forces.

All of us blaspheme
Who take the Name of God in vain.
But surely the greatest blasphemers
Are those priests and those Imams,
Those theologians
Who presume to stand
Between a man and his inner
Between a man and his Conscience
Between a man and his Soul.

Of course, there should be a Fatwa;
There must be death to the blasphemer!
That is death to the blasphemer
Every one of us.

That is the meaning:
Could one really imagine
That the Lord God of Hosts
Provided the Fatwa
As an incitement to murder?

Anthony Bright-Paul '93

An Elegy for Enid

So Temple-Cotton is gone
That great towering man
That great shy boy,
For ever, for ever a boy.
We all own chunks of him
Slices of him
That fit together
Like a great jigsaw -
Standing in the rose-garden
At Coombe, I hear him laugh.
Perched on the cliff-top
We seek the fulmar's nest.
He was at odds
With a world at odds with its Maker;
But when we sat by the Exe
On a tin box, our feet in the mud,
Then as the avocets came
He was at one
His spirits swam with the flood-tide
And ebbed again as we left.

We all own chunks of him, Enid,
Slices of Raiph, slices of Simon;
Here are a few of the pieces
The postcards, the pictures, the photos,
Some of the chunks that I
And my family own.
We offer them back to you.

When the buzzard wheels over the valley
When the woodpecker
Comes to the window
He will be there all around you -
As the long-tailed tits flit through the oaks
And the black-nosed deer start away
Down the hill.
All that is dross in him
Let it be
Buried, consumed by the fire.

Let his spirit go now
That great big boy
Let him gambol on the cloud-tops
Let him laugh with the thunder.
All that we love the most
We have to let go.
Lord knows he wanted Peace.
Lord, give him Peace at the last.

Tony Bright-Paul June '85


If it is true
That at the end
We are sucked down
A long dark tunnel
And emerge
Into ineffable light
And there is this Presence
Full of Love
Who asks us
Without words
What we have done
With our lives...
What shall we say?

And I who was born with a caul,
Who instinctively knew
There was a meaning to life,
Who have squandered away the years...
What shall I say?

Yes, Lord, what shall I say?

Tony Bright-Paul Feb '93

Inspired by The Battle of Badr

Even as I'm praying
Their armies are approaching
Lord, we are outnumbered
Lord, we are outnumbered

Even as I'm praying
Their smug scouts try to trip me
And in the sun battalions
In armoured Pride advancing...
Lord we are outnumbered
Lord we are outnumbered

Even as I'm praying
(To whom am I surrendered?)
Their armies are approaching
In great, in greater numbers
And Lord I'm truly failing
To whom am I surrendered?

Even as I'm praying
The red dragoons of Anger
Their pennants bravely flying
They are rushing, rushing on me
O Lord, have I surrendered?
To whom have I surrendered?

Even as I'm praying
Their cohorts are upon me
Their yellow shields appal me
I quake with Fear and Loathing
O Lord have I surrendered?
To whom have I surrendered?

Even as I'm praying
Even as I'm praying...

(I think only people in the Subud Brotherhood will understand this poem inspired by the Battle of Badr, when the Holy Prophet Mohammed won a battle against overwhelming odds. The forces of evil, the Lower Forces, the Satanic Forces are immense. Even someone who sincerely wishes to submit to God, he is surrounded by his Nafsu.)


Even as I'm praying
Even though I'm fasting
The enemies are closing
Lord, send down your battalions
Of Angels and Archangels
I cannot win this battle
Lord, only you can help me
To whom may I surrender?

Tony Bright-Paul Dec '01

Marmalade on my Toast

In spite of all we see on TV
In spite of nude scenes
Of simulated sex
And the incredible adverts
For condoms
We are still amazingly reticent
Amazingly prudish even
And awkward
Talking of sex.

In fact we don't even know
What to call IT.

Should we say
Sexual Intercourse? it sounds so medical!
Intercourse is very brief and probably is.
As to the Sex Act, that's legalistic
Like a punishable offence.
As to screwing and swinging
That's very American, American slang.
Now bonking is smart, you can use it at parties
When telling an hilariously funny story.
Having it off is malicious and derisory
Used strictly for other people.
Making Love - well that's what it should be
And so rarely is.
Sleeping together
Well plenty of people sleep together
Without sleeping together
If you get what I mean.

Cohabiting is for the courtroom
And coupling for the railway
Copulating is for insects
And mating is for the birds.

The latest in-phrase
Which can be used in the papers
Even about Royalty
Having sex.
The trouble with HAVING SEX
Is that it sounds too much like
Having a hot dinner.

"First I had the hors d'oeuvres
And Fred chose Spaghetti Bolognese
(Did you have sex?)
With the side salad
And the waiter came with
This enormous pepper mill
Spraying it all over the place.
I wanted the Lobster Thermidor
But you know Fred
He's so mean
And terribly conservative
He went for the beef
(Did he have sex?)
With horseradish sauce
You can hardly have it without
And I chose the lamb
(Did you have sex?)
With redcurrant jelly
When I was a kid I thought it was jam!
(How very quaint!)
And for afters meringues
With lashings and lashings of cream
Absolute Bliss!

And in the morning
We broke fast on the terrace
Overlooking the sea
I was so very thirsty
I had grapefruit segments
(Did you have sex?)
And two slices of toast
I spread the butter very thin
I have to watch it you know...
Oh, you are a darling!
You old flatterer, you.
(Did I have sex???)
I just couldn't resist their homemade
Grapefruit marmalade
And put it on - rather thick

And as to Fred
He's a bit of a pig
- Wistfully looking into the distance -
He had THE LOT
Bacon, tomatoes, fried eggs
Black sausage, fried bread, THE LOT."

So you had a nice break?

"Darling," she said
Laying a hand on my arm
"It was absolutely Divine."

Tony Bright-Paul Feb '93

Brutto Porco

I shouldn't really waste my breath
On Porco.
Except he illustrates a point.
I suppose like everyone he had
A deep craving to be loved.

But he had an even greater desire
To be respected.
Substitute fear for respect
And you have it.

He could switch
From rousing fear
To oozing oily charm
But what remained was fear.

There is nothing that destroys love
More quickly
Than does fear.
Fear is like a caterpillar
Munching away
Puncturing, destroying a delicate leaf.

If he didn't arouse hate
He did arouse distaste
And dislike.

And doesn't that tell us all something.
It's a great sin to make people quake -
And probably we're all guilty
One time or another
Myself included.

Tony Bright-Paul Feb '93

Attribute of Love

The most wonderful attribute of Love
Is that it is infinitely expandable.
When my son was born
I did not stop loving my wife.
When my first daughter was born
I did not stop loving my son.
When my second daughter was born
I did not stop loving my first.

I have never stopped loving
All the friends and relations of the past.
And as I am getting older
And fear grows less
I am beginning to feel love
For more and more unlikely people.

But isn't it strange how jealous we are!
Our own love may expand
But we expect to bottle other people's;
To keep it just for ourselves
Like a bottle of perfume
Ready on the dresser.

Tony Bright-Paul Feb '93

Without the Prophets

Without the Prophets
Can you imagine
What the world would be
Without His Prophets?

I hardly dare write what I'm writing...
Without the Prophets
Without His Prophets
The whole world would be plunged
Into Darkness

In every generation
God has sent us His Prophets
To awaken the soul
To provide the connection
Once more
With the Almighty
With the Creator
Of everything and forever

Without His Prophets
We would be plunged
Into blackness
Utterly bereft
Utterly without Hope
Utterly without Love...
Without His Prophets

We cannot understand
We cannot possibly understand
Just what He gave us
Just what He gave us
The gift we received
We received through His Prophets

Those who've received
Even a little, even a smidgeon,
The gift of the Spirit
Those who've received
The Hakekat
Give praise to God
But also acknowledge
Also revere
The work of His Prophets

Without the Prophets
We would have lost
For ever
We would have lost
That subtle connection
That opening
We would have lost...
We would be lost
Without the direction
Without the guidance
Without His Prophets

I dare not write what I'm writing
I would say more than I've written
But some will know
What I'm meaning
Some will understand what I'm saying
I am forbidden to say more, but
Glory to God
And let us revere
His Prophets

Anthony Bright-Paul December '01


It is just not possible
To be happy
Without realising that we are two.
That there is 'I' and 'Bright-Paul.'

It is the same with everybody
Bright-Paul is the Persona
And the Persona itself
Is a kaleidoscope,
Ever changing.

The Person can be
Elated or downcast,
Bombastic, timid, opionative,
Abrasive, charming, malleable,
Offensive ----
All those things
In the space of a few minutes.
With every circumstance
With every different person
The Persona will change.
The Persona simply reacts
It is just a mechanism.

If two Personas fall in love
                  It is totally hopeless ---
It is stable as quicksand.

But my 'I' is totally different.
My 'I' knows what it wants.
It wants only to grow
Like a plant it leans to the light.
My 'I' cannot be hurt or depressed
My 'I' is always rejoicing
My 'I' is constantly saying:
"Al-lah, Allah, Lord, Lord."

My 'I' is full of wonder
With even the most ordinary things
Like the road surface
Or eating a tomato...

When I am close to my 'I'
Everything is a thousand times more intense.
My 'I' is tremendously loving
It loves everyone who is growing
My 'I' loves understanding
My 'I' loves wisdom
And all the sages and the prophets of the past.

My 'I' is not the slightest bit
Concerned with Personality
It only knows Potential.

My 'I' recognises other 'I's
Sometimes before they recognise themselves.

Anthony Bright-Paul Feb '93

Life and Death

Every day we have a choice
Living and dying.
Between Life and Death.
And the terrible thing is
Most of us
Choose Death.

Every day we have a choice
Becoming more alive
Becoming more sensitive
Becoming more aware
Everyday we have a choice
Becoming or not becoming...

It is better to be alive
Than to be dead.
It is better to be living
Than to be dying.
How can anyone survive death
Who is not already alive?

Tony Bright-Paul Feb '93

Parental Bullshit

Have you ever noticed
How difficult it is
For parents to tell their children
How much they love them?

Quite rightly so,
Because in a family
Where there is real affection
There is no need to verbalise
No need to express aloud
What is clearly there.

But in American films
You sometimes see the father,
Wrapped in guilt,
Telling his unsavoury son
How that he loves him.

Doesn't that make you
Want to puke?
Don't you want to say out aloud:
"Shut up and speak the truth!
Why don't you say
'How come that I spawned
This idle ungrateful
Utterly selfish creature?
How did I father this brat,
This ingrate?'"

That might be nearer the truth
Than the maudlin mawkish declaration
Heaved up from his vitals.
When you really love someone
It spills like a volcano
It doesn't have to be ladled out
Like glutinous soup.

Tony Bright-Paul Feb.'93

The Wedding of the Elephants

When the season is right
And the dominant male
Has seen off his rivals
And approaches the female
She will run, she will run
She will give him a run for his money
He still has to prove something
She flirts a little
Before she will stand

And when she is ready
And the dominant male
Mounts her at last
The herd gathers round
All in a great huddle
And they all get excited
They get as excited and happy
As only elephants can.

And isn't this somehow
So very human?
When the dominant male
(We call him the groom)
And the bride all in white
And the guests are all there
All crowding around
To wish them both well

That's if for one moment
The ladies can stop
Comparing their hats -
And they all drink champagne
They have a great ball
And they all get excited
They get as excited and happy
As humans and elephants can.

Tony Bright-Paul Feb '93

Sans Les Prophètes

Sans Les Prophètes
Pouvez-vous imaginer
Comment serait notre monde
Sans Ses Prophètes?

Je n'ose à peine le décrire
Sans Les Prophètes
Sans Ses Prophètes
Le monde entier serait plongé
Dans l'obscurité

A chaque génération
Dieu nous a envoyé Ses Prophètes
Pour réveiller nos âmes
Pour, à nouveau, établir le lien
Avec Le Tout-Puissant
Avec Le Créateur
De toutes choses et pour l'éternité

Sans Les Prophètes
Nous serions plongés
Dans l'obscurité
Complètement privés de tout
Sans aucun espoir
Sans aucun Amour...
Sans Ses Prophètes

Nous ne pouvons comprendre
Il ne nous est impossible de percevoir
Ce qu'Il nous a offert
Ce don qui nous a été envoyé
Par Les Prophètes

Ceux qui ont reçu
Ne serait-ce qu'un peu, qu'une infime partie
Du don de L'Esprit
Ceux qui ont reçu
La vérité intérieure
Glorifient Le Seigneur
Mais aussi reconnaissent
Et vénérent
L'oeuvre de Ses Prophètes

Sans Les Prophètes
Nous aurions perdu
A jamais
Nous aurions perdu
Ce lien subtil
Cette ouverture
Nous aurions perdu...
Nous serions perdus
Sans la gouverne
Sans l'orientation
Sans Ses Prophètes

J'ose à peine poser sur le papier tout cela
Je pourrais en dire plus, pourtant je ne l'ose
Mais certains comprendront ce que je veux dire
Certains comprendront ce que j'entends
Je ne suis pas autorisé à en dire plus mais
Glorifions Dieu
Et vénérons
Ses Prophètes

Tony Bright-Paul translated by Rainier Dent

El Priviligeo de la Vida

Es un privilegio magnifico nacer
Es un privilegio estupendo tener un cuerpo
Tener un vehiculo
Yo creo que
Millones y millones de almas esperan
Están justo esperando este privilegio
Esperando nacer

Es un privilegio magnifico
Una benedición magnifica
El que tengamos este vehiculo
Tengamos este cuerpo
Este cuerpo que respire
Este cuerpo que siente
Este cuerpo que piensa
Este cuerpo que vive

Es un privilegio magnifico nacer
Tener una extension de la vida
Tener un periodo de creación
Tener una opportunidad de volver
A la fuente de nuestros principios

Es un privilegio magnifico tener una vida
Es un privilegio estupendo
El que podamos movernos
Es un privilegio que nuestra alma
Tenga un vehiculo
Donde puede crecer

Es un gran pecado
El que estemos miserables
Cuando tenemos esta opportunidad
Esta opportunidad de creación

Sin duda está claro
Que con esta vida
Nosotros tenemos una opportunidad
De crecer otro vehiculo
Si, otro vehiculo

Nuestro cuerpo es un vehiculo para el alma
O debiá ser
Pero las fuerzas satanicas vienen
Estamos dominados
Estamos gobernados por la avaracia
La bestialidad, por odio, por crueldad
Nuestro cuerpo está gobernado
Por todo lo que es infeliz
Que es totalmente miserable

Nosotros no nacimos para ser miserables
Nosotros nacimos sin duda alguna
Para gozar las frutas de la tierra
Para gozar cada aspecto de la vida
Para disfrutar el que podamos ver con los ojos
Para disfrutar el movimientos de nuestros miembros
Para gozar el crecimiento de nuestros sentimientos
Par gozar nuestra comprensión, nuestro intelecto
Para gozar el compañerismo de nuestros amigos
Y nuestra esposas y de los niños

Asi que es un gran pecado
El estar miserable
El cortar esta connexión con nuestra alma
Es un pecado todo aquello que corte esta conexión
Pero todo lo que refuerce, que cree esa conexión
Eso es alabar al Señor
Eso es oración

No tenemos que decir "Hallelujah"
Ni arodillarnos en el suelo
¿De que valen cien prostraciones
Si un fusil está cerca de la mano?

Es un privilegio magnifico estar viviendo
Es un opportunidad para crear
Nuestro cuerpo no puede durar para siempre
Esta vida es nuestra occasión
Nuestra occasión para crear
El vehiculo para nuestra alma

Anthony Bright-Paul December 2001
(Amended and corrected by my friend Andrew Marqez March 2002)

Sin Los Profetas

Sin los Profetas
¿Se puede uno imaginar
Como estaría el mundo
Sin Sus Profetas?

Apenas me atrevo a escribir
Lo que escribo
Sin los Profetas
El mundo entero
Estaría hundido
En la oscuridad

En cada generación
Dios nos ha mandado
Sus Profetas
Para despertar nos almas
Para darnos la connexion
Una vez más
Con El Todopoderoso
Con El Creador
De todo y para siempre

Sin las Profetas
Seríamos hundidos
En la tinieblas
En la oscuridad
Totalmente desemparados
Totalmente sin Esperenza
Totalmente sin Amor…
Sin Sus Profetas

Nosotros no podemos
No podemos ni remotamente
Lo que El nos da
El obsequio que hemos recibido
Recibiendo a Sus Profetas

Los que han recibido
Aún un pequeño
Aún un minúsculo
Obsequio del espíritu
Los que han recibido
El Hakekat
Dan Elogio a Dios
Pero reconocen también
El trabajo de Sus Profetas

Sin los Profetas
Habríamos perdido para siempre
Habríamos perdidio esa sutil conexión
Esa abertura
Habríamos perdido…
Estaríamos perdidos
Sin la dirección
Sin la guía
Sin Sus Profetas

Apenas me atrevo a escribir
Lo que escribo
Pero algunos sabrán lo que quiero decir
Algunos entenderán
Lo que yo digo…
Estoy prohibido de decir más
Pero da Gloria a Dios
Y reverencia a Sus Profetas

Anthony Bright-Paul December 2001
(Amended and revised with the help of Andrew and Amaya Marquez of the original Madrid Group)

Copyright© 2005, Anthony Bright-Paul

Copyright© 2007, Undiscovered Worlds Press