|
(I
think it is appropriate to mention that some of the poems
written here might not be that beautiful or good as others
or even I would want it to be.
But I hope you read them all, nevertheless, and be
blessed.)
I
hope you read all the poems here and enjoy,
The
emotion God has released through this young boy.
I
never claim to be the best poet,
I
know it and God knows it,
So
if you read here some bad rhymes,
And
you see that as charges of scandalous crimes,
I
want to apologize ahead early,
Sometimes
I write terribly.
In
my poetic inability I hope God would still use it,
After
all, He’s the true Poet.
I
pray that at the least,
When
the artistic ability had failed or cease,
That
when it really comes down to it,
God
would be the True Poet,
Writing
poems to your heart to touch your spirit.
--Jimmy
Li
(Like
a lawyer, I wrote my own disclaimer!
It’s about the thoughts and the care that counts
more than some material gifts this Christmas.
I would rather have the former rather than the
material gifts.)
If
I have decided to go cheap this year,
In
order to give you that Christmas cheer,
You
would know definitely,
I’ll
just compose for you some Christmas poetry.
If
you read this poem in fact,
And
a material Christmas present from me you lack,
I
hope you won’t get mad,
I
hope I didn’t make you feel bad,
And
please don’t despise me,
I
wouldn’t know how to shop for anybody.
How
do women go about on their shopping rampage,
It
doesn’t even matter their age,
Somehow
they could really pick things out for people,
Somehow
things like that they do know.
HA!
Why can’t I do that?
I
don’t know why, as a matter of fact.
Do
I need to know people more?
Is
it because I’m always stuck drooling in a bookstore?
Sheez,
if I only have more cash around.
Maybe
you won’t be so down.
Through
it all, there’s one thing I hope stands clear:
I
wrote this poem quite sincere,
Wishing
you a Merry Christmas,
Thinking
of you around this time of Christmas.
--Jimmy
Li
Back
to Top
(This was a poem I wrote
to all my fellow co-workers in the security company that
I worked for.)
I’m
writing this poem as a form of Christmas card,
To
all of you I.P.S security guard,
In
light of the Holiday season,
Hope
you all have a good Holiday season.
If
there’s any meaning or any reason,
To
celebrate this Holiday season,
Think
about the birth of one little child,
In
a world gone crazy and wild,
So
God can stretch out His Hand,
To
me and you, sinning man.
If
you have to work late sometime this week,
In
the dead of the night when nothing else tweak,
Look
up to the stars at night my friend,
Ponder
this before life should ever come to an abrupt end:
Are
you going to go through life without knowing,
Without ever fully grasping,
Of
the one who have put you here?
--Jimmy
Li
Back
to Top
(This poem was originally
meant to be humoring Santa giving gifts only to “good
children” and how I never thought I was good enough to
write to Santa.
But now that I’m older, there’s a little twist
to it.)
I
remember back in first grade,
Someone
told me Santa was man made,
Then
in class we were forced to write,
A
letter to good old Santa alright.
The
Vice Principal came in,
We
sat around her circling,
As
she asked us what we want for Christmas,
I
said what I wanted for Christmas.
I
thought, it must be busy in the North Pole,
Watched
the elves work hard on TV you know.
These
days when I hear Santa would be in town,
I
wonder of all the little kids who go around,
Saying
that they were good little kids this year,
This
I dread with fear:
If
you were a bad kid for Christmas,
Whom
do you write to for Christmas?
Besides
lowering stamp cost this season,
I
didn’t write to Santa for this reason:
I
need the gift of salvation from Jesus more than anything.
--Jimmy
Li
Back
to Top
(The first time I ever
preached was back in December 1999 when I gave a message
about the birth of Jesus in a high school Christian club.
I wrote this poem the night before the message
was delivered. This
is the core of what Christmas is all about—if I write
all those fun poems and miss the point totally, then all
has been in vain.)
Once
a cold night in December,
Began
a story we all remember,
With
angels singing praise,
And
nearby Shepherds daze.
That
night in a lonely manger,
Could
not have been lonelier,
For
a young pregnant virgin,
With
no room in the inn.
A
Holy Child was born,
In
a place that’s not adorn,
For
the Child was a King,
Salvation
He will bring.
A
bright star marked the sky,
And
Wise Men even came by,
Searching
for the mighty One,
God’s
Holy Son.
Shepherds
who worked at night,
Saw
an angel gleaming bright,
As
they headed for the manger,
That
one night in December.
In
that lonely manger,
There
lay the Savior,
By
the Virgin Mother,
And
Joseph besides her.
Of
what they witness in the stall,
They
praise God for what they saw.
And
when they went away that night,
From
that manger site,
The
Good news got around,
That
in a little Judea town,
A
little child wrapped warmly,
Was
a child of God’s Glory.
This
story, now many years old,
And
millions of times retold,
Reached
many different places,
And
all kind of races.
Many
have been blessed,
Because
of the birth of Jesus.
By,
Jimmy
Li
Back
to Top
|
(If there were to be any
one special Christmas tree, this would be it…)
The
world’s Christmas tree is decorated with ornaments,
Silver,
golden and colored ornaments,
Its
decoration is worthy of compliments,
From
pretty ladies and handsome gents.
The
white silver imitation of snow,
The
Christmas lights colorful glow.
It’s
pyramid shape and size,
Blend
in perfectly to the Holiday eyes.
It’s
seem warm in its greeting,
Below
it, presents lay waiting,
Boxed
up and carefully wrapped,
Bows
tied so good and ready to snap.
*
* *
Contrary,
the Christmas tree from above,
Is
not like anything described above.
It’s
not something one would have thought of.
To
the world, it’s despised and unloved.
It
has in place of real ornaments,
Splinters
enough to serve as punishments.
The
wood is stiff and hard,
Not
some flaky paper card.
Instead
of an evergreen color of life,
It
is dead and painfully deprived,
The
smell captivates all with the stench of death,
Enough
to grasp anyone’s breath.
It’s
symbol of life,
Is
the blood of a man unable to survive.
Rather
than having a pyramid shape,
This
Christmas tree has arms for it shape,
Raised
up solemnly to judge the One on it,
There
for a moment, a King is nailed on it.
What
a Christmas tree that is.
For
our sins, this Christmas tree shows the price of Jesus.
--Jimmy
Li
Back to
Top
(When I struggle with arrogance,
pride and my boastfulness, I think back to Jesus humbleness
to come to this world as a man to save sinners.
The doctrine of Incarnation and the Trinity has resulted
in more profound worship in my own personal life, to see
God’s love and His mysterious way of saving me.)
Who
is this God that Christians call King,
To
go through so much humbling,
As
to come into this world,
Without
a bigger proclamation herald?
Who
is this Prince of Peace,
That
troubled sinners He could have seize,
And
crush by the swiftness of His hand,
Yet
in an awe that I can not understand,
The
God who burned Sodom and Gomorrah,
And
flood the world back in the times of Noah,
Could
come to this world as an infant,
A
harmless little infant!
How
could God Himself be fully man,
To
have the same feet and hand,
Or
better yet, why would God Almighty,
Choose
a path that was rather lowly?
Why
would one with the fullness of Glory,
Come
down to earth in frail humanity,
And
be placed in a manger,
The
thought gets repulsive and stranger,
To
learn that there was no room in the inn,
For
this child of David’s kin.
He
reign authority over the rulers of this world,
Yet
as a child His humility threaten King Herod,
The
thought that an earthly King,
Forced
the escape to Egypt the King of Kings!
Oh
God, Oh God, how can one not be touch,
To
grasp the insight of how you loved so much.
Jesus,
you’ve demonstrated love and humility,
Now
help me to bend my knee.
--Jimmy Li
Back to
Top
(This poem
is an account of an event one night I was working as a guard
in Hollywood Blvd.
Since this is the last poem in this series, I hope
you would be able to ponder about your own sin and God’s
grace. Email
me if you ever want to talk, just as the guy mentioned in
this poem did.)
It
was late one night.
Hollywood
Blvd. traffic was actually light.
No
car passed except once in a while or so.
It
surprised me so.
I
stood guard in front of a building,
Cold,
tired and freezing.
I
look left then right.
No
tourist in sight.
I
sang quietly a solemn praise song.
The
evening stretched so long.
I
looked up to the night’s sky,
No
stars lit the darken sky.
A
couple of people that just partied,
Walked
pass by smoking weed.
Once
in a while a drunkard I spotted,
Speaking
to themselves all rotted.
I
thought to myself about this ungodly place,
And
being a Christian what needs to be face.
Then
out of the silent night a bum shouted to me,
“Hey
Chinese man!”, as drunk as he can be.
I
looked at him drinking from a big container,
How
was I suppose to respond to this stranger,
When
he’s approaching me and sounding racist,
And
Hollywood Blvd. is known for people at it’s craziest?
The
guy started talking to me,
I
failed to understand, he mumbles loosely.
He
reached for me and touched a couple time,
I
just looked at him each time.
He
mentioned about him raping someone,
And
him threatened by this big Asian son.
He
brags about his sins for a while,
Finally
I broke in a smile:
“Hey
man, have you ever accepted Jesus Christ?”
He
looked at me suddenly so nice,
“You’re
a Christian”, he realized.
We
talked about sin and God for a moment,
And
in a shocking instant,
Asked
me to pray for him.
I
reached my arm to his shoulder,
Giving
to God my prayer.
A
seed has been planted.
When
he finally left,
Silence
filled the void that was left,
It
was a silent night again.
I
sang praises like it would never end.
--Jimmy Li
Back to
Top
|
