Rhyming Isaiah, Chapter 48

Hear this, O House of Jacob, who are called
by Is’rael’s name, and who came forth from them,
from Judah’s loins; you who swear by the name,
that of the LORD, and who invoke the God
of Is’rael, but it’s not with honesty
or justice.  For you call yourselves, that way,
as, of the Holy City, citizens,
and, on the God of Is’rael, you depend;
the LORD of hosts, the way that he is named.

The former things, declared, I, long ago;
my mouth, they went from there, them, known, I made;
then suddenly, I did them and they came
to pass.  Because, about you, this I know,
that you are obstinate, your stubbornness,
how iron forms the sinews of your neck,
and that your forehead has been made of brass,
these things that I declared in former days,
I told you them before they came to pass,
I did this so you couldn’t make this claim,
“My idol did them, all them, it ordained,
the image that I carved, the one I cast.”
Now that you’ve heard, now that you see all this,
must you, the truth of it, now, not admit?
From now on I announce new things to you,
things hidden that, before, you never knew.
They are created now, not long ago,
before today, your ears, them, ne’er construed.
You cannot claim, “Them, I already know.”
These things, you neither knew nor ever heard,
because from long ago, were closed, your ears.
For I knew, utterly, you’re treacherous
and from your birth, you’ve been rebellious.

For my name’s sake, my anger, I restrain.
I won’t destroy you so I will be praised.
Look, purchased, you, I’ve, but for silver, not;
how, from affliction’s cauldron, I have out,
you, chosen, for my sake, for my own sake.
I do it so my name won’t be profaned,
or to another god, my glory, yield.

O Jacob, listen to me, Israel,
whom I have called.  It’s I and no one else.
I am the first, I also am the last.
The earth’s foundations were laid by my hand.
When I call them, they, at attention, stand.

Assemble, all of you, and listen close!
Who has, amongst you, all of these things, told?
The one the LORD loves, what he shall perform,
on Babylon, his purpose, and his arm
shall be ‘gainst the Chaldeans.  I myself
have spoken, I have called him, and as well,
I’ve brought him, and his mission will succeed.
Hear what I have to say, draw near to me!
The first, from, I’ve not spake with secrecy.
I have been present ‘till it came to be.
The LORD God sent his spirit and sent me.

The Holy One of Is’rael, thus, the LORD
says, your Redeemer, I, who am your God,
the LORD, who teaches you for your own good,
who leads you in the way, that, go, you should.
O that, to my commandments, you gave heed
then how it would have, your prosperity,
been like a river, forward it proceeds,
and your success, just like the seas, their waves.
your offspring would have been just like the sand
and your descendants countless like its grains;
their name, it never would have been erased
or, from my presence, blotted out, ne’er be.

Go out from Babylon and, from there, flee,
Chaldea; this, declare with shouts of joy,
it, publish, to the ends of earth and say,
“The LORD, his servant, Jacob, has redeemed!”
They did not thirst though through there, them, he lead,
the desert wastes.  Out from the rock, how he,
the water, made it flow, how it, in streams,
gushed forth once he, the rock, in two, had cleaved.
The LORD says, “For the wicked, there’s no peace.”

Rhyming Isaiah, Chapter 47

Sit in the dust, there, once you have come down,

you virgin daughter, you, of Babylon.

Sit on the ground, you, there, without a throne,

O daughter of Chaldea! No more shall

you, delicate and tender, both, be called.

Now take your millstones and, with them, grind meal.

Strip off your robe, but first remove your veil,

your legs, uncover, through the rivers, pass.

Uncovered, it will be, your nakedness

and your shame shall be seen.  What I will take:

my vengeance, and spare no one, whom I will.

Redeemer, Our–the LORD of hosts, his name

is–he’s the Holy One of Israel.

In silence, sit, and into darkness, go,

Chaldea, daughter! For you shall be no

more, as the mistress of the kingdoms, known.

How I was, angry with my people, so,

my heritage, that was what I profaned;

and I surrendered them into your hand.

No mercy, what it was to them you showed,

and, on the aged, you laid a heavy yoke.

You said, “Forever, I shall, mistress, be”;

you did not take them to your heart, these things,

nor of their future outcome did you think.

Now hear this, lover, you, of luxury

who, on your throne, sits with security,

who says this to yourself in secrecy,

“I am and there is no one besides me;

a window’s nothing that I’ll ever be

or know the loss of children.”  Suddenly,

yet, in a single day, will both these things

befall you: widowhood, you’ll be bereaved,

them both, despite your many sorceries.

How your enchantments will lack potency.

You, in your wickedness, security,

felt, and said to yourself, “No one sees me.”

Your wisdom and your knowledge, where they led,

you, there, astray, and in your heart you said,

“I am and, me, besides, there is no one.”

Hence, how disaster, will, upon you, come

which, able to avert, you will not be,

and evil shall come on your suddenly.

It’s from a place that you did not foresee.

Up with, all your enchantments, you should keep

and also will all of your sorceries

with which you’ve labored since your infancy;

with them, inspire, you, terror, possibly!

With all your consultations, how you feel:

so weary; let all your astrologers

stand up and save you, those who gaze at stars,

let them predict with ev’ry passing moon

all the events that, happen, will, to you.

See, they’re like stubble, them, the fire consumes:

they cannot save themselves from, of the flames,

the power. It’s not that which, them, will warm,

a glowing coal, no fire to sit before!

Such will your wizards, to be for you, prove

with whom you worked together from your youth.

In their own paths, where all of them peruse,

and not a one of them can e’er save you.

Rhyming Isaiah, Chapter 46

Bel has crouched down and Nebo has stooped low,

their images, upon them, are a load,

on beasts and castle, how they must be borne,

as burdens on the animals, forlorn.

They’re stooping and together they bow down,

the burden isn’t something that can save.

Themselves, gone to captivity, have they.

O house of Jacob, hear this, what I say.

All of the house of Is’rael who remain,

whom I have carried since your infancy,

whom I have borne since when you were conceived.

To your old age, e’en then, I am the same.

I’ll bear you even when your hair turns gray.

I have made you, it’s you whom I shall bear,

to safety, you, whom I shall carry there.

With whom can you compare me, or equate

me with, or match as though we were the same?

Those who, gold, lavish, from the purse and weigh

out silver in the balance of their scales–

to make a god, a goldsmith, they engage;

in worship, they, before it, lie prostrate.

They hoist it shoulder-high and in parade,

they carry it to stand it in its place.

There will it stand, it never moves away.

You may cry out to it in your distress,

but no replies to you will it express,

or any one, from trouble, will it save.

Abandon hope, and then remember this,

you rebels, this, consider, and then train

your mind on what has happened long ago,

for I am God, and, other, there is no;

I am God and there is none that’s like me.

The end, from the beginning, I reveal,

and from times, ancient, what is yet to be.

I say, “My purpose stands, with certainty.

I shall accomplish everything I please.”

A bird of prey, I summon from the east–

my man, predestined, from a distant land.

He is the one to carry out my plan.

I’ve spoken and, pass, I shall bring it to,

what I have planned, that is what I will do.

Now listen to me, you, who’re hard of heart.

You who’re, off from deliverance, afar:

it’s my deliverance, what I bring near,

and my salvation will not be delayed;

salvation, my, in Zion, I will place,

my glory, it’s to Is’rael, I convey.

Rhyming Isaiah, Chapter 45

The LORD, to his anointed one, thus says,

to Cyrus, whose right hand that I have grasped,

so, all the nations, he will downwards tramp

and in his service, he makes the kings run

to open up the gateways before him,

so that their gates won’t be closed, not a one.

Before you I will go and level them,

the mountains.  I will break down all the doors

of bronze, and those of iron, all the bars.

I shall cut through them.  I will give to you 

the gifts of darkness that no one has viewed

and hoards of wealth that no one ever knew,

so that you may know that I am the LORD

who calls you by your name, I’m Is’rael’s God.

It’s for my servant Jacob, his own sake, 

and Is’rael who’s my chosen one, by name

I’ve called you, and a title, given you

despite the fact that me, you never knew.

I am the LORD, I’m utterly unique.

There is no other God except for me.

I arm you even though you don’t know me

so all may know besides me there is none.

From where it rises, in the east, the sun,

clear to the west.  It’s I who form the light,

the darkness, I create, and both alike

I make well-being and disaster too.

It’s I the LORD, all these things, what I do.

Rain righteousness, you heavens, let the skies

pour justice, so that it may upwards rise,

salvation from the earth, and righteousness

bud forth.  The LORD, I, have created this.

Woe to you who will with your Maker strive.

To make the earthenware: the potter’s right.

The clay, who fashions it, it ask him, will:

“What do you make to fire inside the kiln?”,

or will the pot tell him, “You have no skill”?

Woe to the child who to the father says,

“Begetting, why are you?” or asks her this,

the mother, “What are you in labor with?”

Thus says the LORD, the Holy One is he,

of Is’rael, and its maker, Question me,

will you about my children or command

me in the ways I’m working with my hands?

All by myself, the earth is what I made

and humankind upon it, I create.

With my own hands, the heavens, I outstretched

and all their host, they are what I direct.

It’s Cyrus, I aroused in righteousness

and, straight the way, that I’ve made all his paths

Who will rebuild my city? It is he,

and he is who, my exiles, will set free–

with neither ransom nor indemnity,

thus says the LORD of hosts, all of, words, these.

Thus says the LORD, Of Egypt, what it earns,

of Ethiopia, all of its wares,

and the Sabeans, tall of stature, who’re,

shall, over, come to you and will be yours.

They shall, you, follow and how, they in chains

shall, over, come to you, and fall prostrate.

They’ll, supplication, make to you and say,

“God is with you alone and there is not

another, all the other gods are nought.”

You are a God who surely hides himself,

the Savior who’s the God of Israel.

All of them are, to shame, put, and disgraced,

they are confounded, those, who, idols, make.

But by the LORD, it’s Is’rael who is saved,

delivering them for eternity.

Confounded, you wn’t be, nor put to shame.

How you are saved? It’s everlastingly.

For thus the LORD says, who, the heavens, made

he, who is God, the earth formed, and it, shaped,

and by himself he fixed it firm in place.

Not chaos, what it was he did create,

but as a place to be inhabited!

I am the LORD, there’s no alternative.

I did not speak in secret in a land

of darkness and this is not what I said

to Jacob’s people, “Where, me, you should seek,

in chaos.”  But the truth is what I speak.

It’s I, the LORD, who justice, does declare.

Together, gather, and yourselves, draw near,

survivors of the nations, you, who are!

They have no knowledge, those who, in parade,

their wooden idols, bear, and to them, pray.

They, to a god, pray, whom, them, cannot save.

Come forward and declare, present your case,

consult together; let them, counsel, take.

Who told this long ago, and who declared,

of old, it? Was it not I, who’s the LORD?

Besides, there is no other God than me,

no saving God, no Savior but for me.

Turn back to me and then, saved, you will be.

There, from the furthest corners of the earth,

to be saved, you just have, to me, to turn.

For I am God, another, there is not.

I have sworn by myself and from my mouth,

a word of righteousness what has gone forth,

a promise that will never, broken, be,

“To me, will bow down every bending knee,

and ev’ry tongue will swear only by me.”

Of me, they’ll say, “They’re only in the LORD,

both righteousness and strength; all those who were

incensed against him shall come, him, before

and be ashamed. Of Is’rael, the offspring

shall glory in the LORD triumphantly.

Rhyming Isaiah, Chapter 44

My servant, Jacob, listen Israel,

now, whom I’ve chosen, help you, how I will.

Thus says the LORD, he who created you,

he is the one who formed you in the womb.

O Jacob, do not fear, you, Jeshurun

whom I have chosen.  On the thirsty soil,

I will pour water and streams, how I will,

on the dry ground.  My spirit, I’ll pour out

on your descendants and my blessing on

your offspring, and then they will upwards shoot

like a green tamarisk into the sun,

like willows by the gently flowing streams.

“I am the LORD’s,” will say, this person, one,

another will be called by Jacob’s name.

Another writes the LORD’s name on his hand

and, as a surname, “Is’rael,” he will add.

Thus says the LORD, he who is Is’rael’s King,

“There is no other god except for me.

I’m his redeemer and the LORD of hosts,

I am the first and also am the last.

Who is like me?  Let him stand up and speak,

let him declare it, show his proof to me.

Who’s, from of old, announced, to come, the things?

Let him foretell events, those yet to be.

Don’t fear, take heart, and do not be afraid.

Have I not told you all this from of old

and all these things, to you, I have declared?

You are my witnesses.  Apart from me,

identify another deity!

There is no other Rock, I am unique.”

All who make idols come to nothingness,

their cherished images are profitless,

and these, against them, are their witnesses:

they, nothing, see, and nothing do they know,

their ignorance, their foolishness, it shows.

Whoever makes a god, or he who casts

an image, all his efforts, what he wastes;

no thing he does will ever come to gain.

All devotees of his are put to shame

and, only human, they’re, who, idols, make.

Let them stand up, they will be terrified

and they will all, to shame, there, be confined.

An axe, the blacksmith, o’er the charcoal makes,

and o’er the hot coals, hammers, with them, shapes.

Becoming hungry, how his strength then fails,

he drinks no water, then, becomes, he, faint.

The carpenter, he stretches out a line,

and with a stylus, how it is defined,

the wood, what he will fashion with his planes.

He carves it so it makes a human shape

with human beauty and man’s dignity.

A shrine, the place that it will occupy.

He cuts a cedar down, a holm, an oak.

Of other forests’ trees, he will lay hold,

those that the LORD plants and the rain made grow.

Some portion serves the man as fuel for fire

and some for roasting meat, that use it has.

He eats his food and he is satisfied.

He warms himself and this what he says,

“Ah, I am warm here with the fire’s hot flame.”

With half the wood, a god is what he makes.

His idol, he bows down to it and prays.

“Save me, for you, my god, are,” what he says.

They do not know nor do they comprehend.

Their eyes are closed so that they cannot see,

their clouded minds makes them not understand.

They can’t consider nor can they perceive

enough to say, “Half, I have burned for fire

to bake my bread on glowing embers’ fuel.

I roasted meat; my hunger’s now expired.
The other half of wood, for this I’ll use

it: an abomination, what I’ll make.

Before a block of wood, I’ll lie prostrate.”

He feeds on ashes, and it is astray,

that his deluded mind, to there, him, led,

and he can’t save himself, or of it say,

“Is not this thing in my hand just a fraud?”

“O Jacob, all these things, keep them in mind

and Is’rael, for who you are: servant, my.

You are my servant, whom I did create.

O Is’rael, you, I never shall forget.

All your transgressions, how them I have swept

away just like a cloud and all your sins,

I have dispersed them like the morning’s mists.

Return to me, for you, I have redeemed.”

O heavens, for the LORD has done this, sing!

The underworld, cry out with joy, aloud.

You mountain tops, for joy, now, you should shout,

the forests and in them each growing tree!

For Jacob is the one the LORD redeemed

and Is’rael, through, his glory, he’s revealed.

Thus says the LORD, whom your Redeemer is,

who formed you in the womb and ever since:

“I am the LORD, and everything, I made,

who by myself the heavens outwards spread,

alone, the earth, I hammered into shape;

the liars’ omens, all them, I frustrate

and, the diviners, into fools, I make.

What wise men say, those things I will reverse.

Their knowledge, into foolishness, I turn.

My servant’s prophecies, those, I confirm.

My envoy’s plans, successful, I will make.

It’s to Jerusalem, this, what I say,

‘Once more inhabited, how she will be.’

And Judah’s cities, ‘They, rebuilt, will be,’

and I will raise their ruins upwardly.”

‘Be dry,’ is what I say to waters, deep.

I make them dry, where they once flowed, your streams.

Who says of Cyrus, ‘Shepherd, my, he is,

and he shall carry out my purposes.

So that Jerusalem may be rebuilt,

the temple’s, laid, foundations, be, they will.’”

Rhyming Isaiah, Chapter 43

But Jacob, now, thus says the LORD, he who

created you, o Is’rael, who formed you:

Fear not for it is you whom I’ve redeemed;

I have called you by name and you are mine.

When you pass through the waters, at that time,

I will be with you and, and the river’s streams

will not o’erwhelm you; when you walk through fire,

you won’t be burned, and scorched, you will not be

by the hot flames.  For I’m your God, said he,

I am the Holy One of Israel,

your Savior, as your ransom, give, I will,

all, Egypt, Seba, Ethiopia,

them in exchange for you. It is because

you’re precious in my sigh and honored too,

and simply put, that fact, that I love you.

I, people, give them in return for you,

the nations, for your life, giv’n in exchange.

Don’t fear for I am with you every day.

Your offspring, I will bring them from the east,

and from the west, I’ll gather you; ‘Release

them,’ this, what I am saying to the north,

and to the south, ‘Don’t interrupt their course’;

bring all my sons from far away, that source,

and daughters, my, from the ends of the earth,

bring all, to whom are, by my name, referred,

all whom I have created, all I’ve formed,

whom I made, it’s my glory, what they’re for.

The people who are blind, now bring them here,

the people who are deaf yet still have ears!

Together, all the nations, gather, let,

the peoples, to assemble, them, permit.

Amongst them who declares things in the past,

and who interprets all the former things?

So that the people hear them prove their case,

let them, their witnesses, now forward bring

and let them hear and say, “That is the truth.”

The LORD declares, ‘My witnesses are you,

you are my servant, you, the one I’ve chos’n,

so that you will believe me and you’ll know

and put your trust in me and you’ll confirm

I am the LORD.  Before me, none was formed,

no other god, nor ever shall there be

another one that might come after me.

I am the LORD and I alone am he

who is your Savior. I declared and saved,

and made it known, it was no god, one strange

among you, and you are my witnesses,

the LORD says.  I’m God in the future tense.

I am He.  There is no one else who can

deliver anybody from my hand.

I work and no one, me, can countermand.

These are the LORD’s words, who’s, Redeemer, your,

the Holy One of Is’rael: your sake, for.

I will to Babylon, an army, send,

and I will break down all the prison’s bars,

then the Chaledeans’ joy at once will end,

and, into lamentation, it will turn.

I am the LORD who is your Holy One

of Is’rael, the Creator, and your King

who makes a way that passes through the sea,

through mighty waters, paths you can walk on,

who leads the chariots and horsemen out

together with an army that’s elite

to their destruction, they lie down in rout

and never will they rise back on their feet,

they were extinguished, like a wick, snuffed out.

Stop dwelling on the past, the former things.

I am about to do a thing that’s new,

it will unfold and it will forward spring,

is it not something that’s within your view?

It’s through the wilderness, I’ll make a way

and rivers in the land that now is waste.

The animals who’re wild will honor me,

the jackals, wolves, the owls, and ostriches,

for I give water in the wilderness

and rivers in the wastes where they can drink.

My chosen people, for myself, I made

so they announce, and can proclaim my praise.

Yet Jacob, you do not upon me call,

but weary, in my service, Israel,

is how you grew. You haven’t brought them whole,

your sheep for offerings you have withheld,

nor, with your sacrifices, honored me.

I have not burdened you with offerings

or wearied you with frankincense demands,

you have not bought me aromatic reeds

or offered me your sacrifices’ fat.

But rather, with your sins, you’ve burdened me.

You’ve wearied me with your iniquities.

I, I am he, for my sake, who blots out

all your transgressions and, your sins, I’ll not

remember them.  Accuse me, make your case

at trial; make your pleadings so you may

be proved as innocent.  Your ancestor,

your first one sinned, and your interpreters

transgressed against me.  Therefore I profaned

the princes at the sanctuary’s gates,

why, Jacob, I, to scorn, there, I confined,

and Is’rael, how I left to be reviled.

Dolbear’s Law

The crickets’ chirping tells the temperature.

Rhyming Isaiah, Chapter 42

Here is my servant, him, whom I uphold,

my chosen one, he, who delights my soul.

Upon him, I have placed, my Spirit, whole;

forth, to the nations, justice, he will bring.

He will not cry aloud or say a thing,

he won’t lift up his voice out in the street; 

a reed that’s bruised, he will not break, and yet,

a wick that faintly burns, he will not quench;

He, justice, will bring forth by his great faith.

He’ll neither be crushed down nor e’er grow faint

until he, in the earth, has, justice, made;

and for his teaching, how the coastlands wait.

These are the words of the LORD who is God,

the heavens, who created them and spread

them out, who stretched the earth out with its crops,

and to its people, who is giving breath,

and spirit to those who, upon it, tread.

I am the LORD, and for the victory

of justice I have called you righteously.

I grasped you by the hand and, you, I’ve shaped.

You, as a covenant, is what I gave

the people, to the nations you’re a light 

to open up the eyes of those who’re blind,

to free the captives from where they’re confined,

the dungeon, where in dark, the pris’ners lie.

I am the LORD and Yahweh is my name.

I will, my glory, give to no one else,

nor any honor to an idol’s praise.

The former prophecies have come to pass

and what I now declare to you: new things

before the time they, into being, spring.

A new song to the LORD what we should sing!

Throughout the earth where we will sing his praise.

Let the sea roar and all that it contains

and those who, on the coasts and islands, stay.

Let both the deserts and its towns, their voice, 

lift up, the villages where Kedar dwells.
Let all of its inhabitants rejoice,

of Sela, let them, from the tops of hills

shout out. Let them give glory to the LORD,

and, in the coastlands, glory, his, declare.

It’s like a soldier how the LORD goes forth,

his fury, like a warrior, up, he stirs;

he cries aloud and shouts his battle cry

against his enemies, he shows his might.

For a long time, my peace is what I’ve held.

Myself, I have restrained, and I’ve kept still;

now like a woman in her labor pains

I’ll gasp and pant, and out is how I cry.

The mountains and the hills I will lay waste

and all their vegetation, I will dry.

The rivers, to firm ground, them, I will change.

and all the pools I’ll dry in the same way.

By roads they do not know, I’ll lead the blind,

in paths they do not know, them, I will guide.

Before them, darkness, I’ll turn into light,

their crooked paths, I will make them aligned.

These are the things I shall do without fail.

They’ll be turned back and utterly ashamed,

in carven images, whose trust they place.

“You are our gods,” to idols what they say.

Hear now, you who are deaf, look up and see.

You who are blind!  Who’s really blind is he

who is my servant, and who’s truly deaf,

but it is he, the messenger I send?

Who is so blind as he who, as a friend,

I’ve taken to myself, who is so deaf,

as he who is a servant of the LORD?

You’ve seen so much, but little, you’ve observed.

Your ears are open but you do not hear.

The LORD, for the sake of his righteousness,

was pleased to make his law both glorious

and great, yet how this people was despoiled

and plundered, all of them are trapped in holes,

and in the dungeon, they are hid away.

As booty, they are taken, they are prey,

with no one who will, their return, demand.

Among you, who will, to these words, attend,

and, for the time to come, who listens in.

Who gave up Jacob to the plunderers?

Who handed Is’rael to the pillagers?

Was it not, ‘gainst the LORD, whom we have sinned,

in whose ways, walking there, what they have shunned

and whose law, how against it, they have turned.

So he, on Jacob, poured out all his wrath,

and too, of war, the fury; it, him, wrapped,

in flames, but yet he understood it not,

it burned him but he took it not to heart.

Rhyming Psalm 46.10-11

“Be still and know that I am God,” he says.

“Exalted ‘mongst the nations, how I am.

I am exalted in the earth, its lands.”

He’s here right now, the Lord of hosts, with us;

Our refuge, what the God of Jacob is.

The Creative Christian Crowdsourced Poetry Project (CCCPP) is a new endeavor of Quetzalhiloco Publishing. The goal is to create a Rhyming Bible comprising all of the books of the Bible written in rhyming iambic pentameter in the style of T.H. Chalm.