A village without the elderly is like a well without water.
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Pachyderm
O' my elderly world, am I getting too bold?
The ones who go first were the elderly ones
Leaving spawns of unfertile aftermaths
Leaving my elderly world high and dry
O' my elderly world, am I getting out of control?
Doing everything that crosses my mind
Like there is no tomorrow
Like there are no rules
O' my elderly world, am I worthy of being alive?
When all my tendency contributes are turmoils
When my currupted mind only grieves others'
Like I own this elderly world...
O' my elderly world, are the rulers doing well?
When all they can offer are blood, tears and lives taken
When the rich becomes richer
When the poor becomes poorer
Like they own this elderly world...
O' my elderly world, do I still have the time?
Am always envious of time
Am always running out of time
Hope I won't be here when your time runs out
O' my elderly world...
poem by Chosen Reject
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Water, Poet: Sohrab Sepehri
We shouldn’t muddy the water
A pigeon may drink it down the road
Or in a far away grove a starling may bathe
Or in the village, a jug may be filled
We shouldn’t muddy the water
This running water may feed a poplar and
wash away sadness from a heavy heart
A dervish may dip his dry bread in it
A pretty woman may come to the river bank
We shouldn’t muddy the water
The beauty will be doubled
What refreshing water!
What limpid river!
How pure the uptown people are
May their springs always boil and their cows always milk!
I have not seen their village
But, no doubt, god walks along their wattles
The Moon, over there, lights the width of words
No doubt, uptown, the walls are short
Their people know what a poppy is
No doubt, over there, blue is blue
The people know when a flower blooms
What a village it would be!
May its garden alleys be filled with music!
The people from the head of the river know water.
They did not muddy it
Neither should we
poem by Mehraneh Hosseini
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Tribal Ways (Karez* of Dabkot*)
From the first habitations in the valley
In old fortress like Kot* called the old Kot
The occupation was fabulous for the earth
Did promise of harvests in plenty for all
Towards the west in steep rising the plateau
Behind the small hills the sun would set
There were springs of water when in refuge
The encampment was settled before the valley
For the water how to fetch and for the fields
Underground channels they had seen
On the way through the oasis of villages
Who could do it for the skill was possessed
Uzbeks from north who bore the earth
To bring down water on surface in the middle
The rejoicing village as inhabitants grew further
Divided times as to capacity of the clan
Soon greenery was patched on dry soil
Plumes and apples and mulberries
A small orchard for every house adjacent
Water for drinking then flew to the mosque
Made of mud with much devotion
Then baths for the men in common
Followed by it was the place for washing
For women to gossip and laundry of the day
Happy fishes and few crabs too in the water
Life giving springs from where the water came
Of the green trees named after the gallant
The elderly and sweet hearts of the village
Many a lovers around the corners
Of the Karez here and there under trees
The damsels either to fetch water
Or wash clothes or to the fields away
An embroidered gift with perfume of apples
Thrown on the dust for the lover to pick
The shepherdess in the evening to return
Water her sheep on the many water ways
The fresh cold water for bath in the morn
So was the simplicity when on occasions
For the drum beats and dance with songs
In duets on marriages and visits on celebrations
And then came the drought on the happy land
No water in spring in sadness died the fishes
The crab ran away and stones did stopped
Giving sustenance to the water and the larvae
I wept on the bank of Karez of Dabkot
One evening when I saw the ducts being filled
Never to reopen again from the earth
Never shall a sight sadden me more
Than the memory of cold water springs
The memory of the fish that many a times
Jumped up and down to kiss my hands
*Karez: Underground ducts of fresh spring water
*Dabkot: Name of a village
*Kot: Fortress like compound made of mud
22/4/2009
poem by Sadiqullah Khan
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Chaitra purnima
Today
Chaitra purnima
Look sarhul
And it is summer
The time to
Worship mother nature.
Look summer here
The days of cold beverages
The days of squash buttermilk
Pakhalrice water handia and lassis
All available in the town.
What about village?
In this summer
Village is burning
No water no food
No work nothing.
The dusk the clash
All available in the village.
Chitra purnima
Today.
Today is the
Chitra purnima
Of Hindu calender
And it is summer.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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The Village Pond
Here, there, women, children and men
Talk animatedly, little water waves disrupted by scooping
Water vessels, the faded green water lilies, shoved aside.
Cows moo, the goats bleat,
School children scramble for a spill,
The edges, slippery and muddy, non of a bother.
The gold, liquid of life, simmers under the hot sun,
Though, shrinking in size, by every draw,
The earth is bare, the pond tags their hope.
Here in the pond, they see, sigh and fall
The feminine and masculine bodies attract
The gossip, filters, confirmed, a new life sees dawn.
Wild tree fruits, like monsters surround the village pond
I'm told the fruits, purify the village pond
Lives ruled, made to see day, Honor to the village pond.
poem by Charles Jagongo Ogola
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Cow's urine
Cow 's
urine is...
Very very
Good...
It was usese
Some houses
At the...
Drops to water
Washing...
In india's
villages...
yes it is
Some naturral
Anti water...
some moor
village people
washes face also...
Cow's urine...
With gentely...!
[in india at tamil nadu village people usese's cow's urine...}
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Sonnet: The World's Aged, Need Our Help
Our world has older men more than before;
Health-carers wake up! Aged need better care;
Their problems seem so different- don’t ignore
The Elderly; no nation can then fare.
None can prevent the aging process, sure;
And die, we must someday diseased or not;
Ailments defying cure, we must endure;
Improve we can, the quality of cot.
The Elderly have served their useful terms;
They need just love, affection from young ones;
Their body frames are weak and prone to germs;
With help they can complete even more ‘runs’!
The care of Elderly is a challenge,
And needs more work; if not, it takes revenge!
poem by John Celes
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In the presence of elderly people one must not pour water.
Global Village
Global village
Though we are all human
we are made to be different
by forces beyond our clout
Yet they want remake us
in a new image of their choice
in a village too big to be safe
The world they now call
a single village in the globe
with a big brother to match
As long as we are second class
within that large village fashioned
we would be subjected to
someone’s standards
someone’s culture
someone’s technology
someone’s understanding
someone’s world view
someone’s theories and concepts
They try hard in harder ways
to make us part of that village
but we know we are different
and shall strive to leave outside
that fashioned unsafe village
poem by Yusuf Adamu
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Sonnet- The Elderly
Show consideration for an aged man;
Show courtesy to elderly persons;
Inhuman ways to human lives, you ban;
To do a thing, have sufficient reasons.
Their frame is frail and mind is filled with fear;
Assault of any kind, they cannot bear;
They can’t see well or sleep or even hear;
The elderly need special love and care.
Their growing age is their sweet punishment;
They flex with age and become like a child;
Their Will-power is their great armament;
Their days are numbered- why should we turn wild?
Let’s look after the elderly with pride!
Their words are wise and let’s therefore abide.
7-1-2001
poem by John Celes
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Drowned Out.
Liverpool corporation, water they sought,
community, by surprise they were caught.
Not really consulted,
outrage and protest resulted.
Voices and banners went to the ‘foreign' council,
however, project goes ahead through ' private members bill '
Worries fall on deaf ears,
only to confirm worst fears.
Workers came to start their plan,
nothing could stop the dam.
Water is ‘required'
not true it transpired.
Not strong enough voice in their land,
their village was dammed.
Told to 'leave their dead, or exhume,
the water will be coming soon '
Open the graves,
or lose to the waves.
The injustice of it all,
a tragedy to befall.
An horrendous and heartfelt plight,
unfair, one-sided fight.
Generations split and scattered,
the corporation, water is all that mattered.
Profit for big business,
the little man is powerless.
Water now covers, village no more,
two things for sure.
The people never had the last word,
and the chapel bell will never again be heard......
27/03/06 NP
poem by Guy Lipmore
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The Elderly These Days!
The younger birds have flown off far away!
Their parents aged are left alone today;
The nest looks empty, silent, everyday;
O Lord, show us your way- they pray!
Who cares who cares for elderly these days?
All children seem busy in their own ways;
Mere solitude is what the world repays;
Oh, what a blot on modern human race!
What love was shown by parents in years past!
They look now weary, dazed, with eyes downcast;
They live in penury and sickness fast;
’Tis years, their near and dear ones saw them last!
Cannot all children understand their plight?
Neglecting elderly is never right;
God sees their bloody tears when children fight;
The elderly need food, comfort, care, sight!
Our parents kept us warm when we were cold;
All children have a duty to ones old;
The elderly need young shoulders to hold;
Their virtuous deeds are worth more than all gold!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 6-10-2006
Dedicated most lovingly to the World’s Elderly
poem by John Celes
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Sonnet: Care of the Elderly
God, bless the souls who care for elderly!
Oh, what a lovely service they perform!
And wretched be those thinking cleverly,
Escaping duties, keeping them not warm.
The elder ones took care of us when young;
What love they showered when we were children!
‘They cooked us tasty foods with wet cow-dung! ’
They told us fables showing what’s heaven.
How can we then repay the love we get?
-By taking care of elderly in turn.
Can we ever repay their loving debt?
We fail to carry sometimes ev’n their urn!
The elderly can bless one’s family;
Their curses lead to ruin verily!
poem by John Celes
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Village Idiot
Did you see the lad, on the corner
He was standing drinking wine
Wears his overcoat in the summer
And short sleeves in the winter time
Takes his holidays, down at the bookies
Well he knows how to pick a horse
Village tramping round the countryside
He wears a smile, but he doesnt say much
Village idiot, hes complicated
Village idiot, simple mind
Village idiot, he does know something
But hes just not saying
Dont you know hes onto something
You can see it, you can see it in his eyes
Sometimes he looks so happy
As he goes strolling by
Oh village idiot, hes complicated
Village idiot, hes got a simple mind
Village idiot, must know something
But hes just not saying
Well you all know hes onto something
You can see it in his eyes
Sometimes he looks so happy
When he goes walking by
Sometimes he looks so happy
When he goes walking by
Sometimes he looks so happy
When he goes walking by.
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Pavement Cafe
In the café where I sit I can see the village’s church, nice building
typical Portuguese architecture and painted white. I walked inside
it once, didn’t like that so much, as it had dark corners and whiffed
of sins not yet forgiven. It is quiet here now as the people prepare
for winter sleep in damp houses. There are a few tourists about
mostly elderly bad on their feet. The church bell tolls one o’clock,
it is good to know time even in Paradise. Today I will go for a walk
in the village’s cemetery a lovely place full of flowers and often
with pictures of the departed when they looked ruddily healthy
and the claw of death had yet to touch them; and I mustn’t forget
the good silence. Whatever the argument was it means nothing
anymore. The waiter brings me a coffee and a sly cigarette which
I smoke with guilty pleasure, yet looking out for my doctor he often
comes here for his coffee. Yes, this is another perfect day.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Inspired by Issa - My Home Village
my home village
the virgin mary still stands
young as ever
my home village
old friends like me
away from home
my home village
old friends live in
new homes
inspired by
my home village-
the winter rain targets
a standing Buddha
-Issa,1816
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Empirical Adaptation
Elderly,
Incumbent,
Better than others;
But, with an empirical adaptation!
Which is combined with a decision tool that is,
Very close to your lovely car.
Elderly,
Incumbent;
This love is based on your muse and,
This argument is based of your works! !
And like your recent victory with the peace of your mind;
But, you can't jump the gun this time around.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Nurture the Elderly
All the elderly are all alone,
All alone in nursing homes.
Sleeping in beds with drugs
blurrying their heads.
Now this is our state of affairs right now,
before we had elderly helping out.
They lived to be healthy and take care of kids,
now we hide them away and make them forget.
Forget who they are,
for we labeled them thus far.
As drains on our society and economy,
not giving them respect or dignity.
Alzheimer's has a spiritual cause,
no family ties is the result of it all.
Now we need to give Elderly’s
a way to fit in,
to give them meaning to life
not make them a “has been”.
They could work at Daycares,
help with the children
because they have so much to share.
It’s a shame for one day we could be in their shoes,
we better change our ways, we have too much to lose.
Written by Christina Sunrise on September 19,2011
www.christinasunrise.com www.purplepoems.com
www.suzaechevalier.com
poem by Christina Sunrise
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Please Respect The Elderly!
Please respect the elderly!
Learn patience day-by-day...
A little love from you and me
Can go a long, long way!
God's love towards Mankind goes on
For all eternity
And when His children must pass on,
He treats them tenderly...
Please respect the elderly!
No matter, fit or frail...
A soothing word or pleasantry,
Is hardly known to fail.
Lord Jesus died for one and all...
He died for young and old...
While young at heart we may walk tall,
In time, we're not so bold...
Please respect the elderly!
Is that too much to ask?
Our actions prove our courtesy,
Regardless of the task...
God hears the prayers of everyone,
No matter, rich or poor.
If we do things that must be done,
God couldn't ask for more...
Denis Martindale, copyright, June 2011
poem by Denis Martindale
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