For years, my master had done his utmost to pollute my mind with foul images, and to destroy the pure principles inculcated by my grandmother, and the good mistress of my childhood.
quote by Harriet Ann Jacobs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Minus into minus
The chambermaid, as usual, made ready
The bedroom for her mistress and master
When the master’s eyes fell upon her shoulders,
That the mistress took note of the least.
Without any fuss, saw the mistress
The master lay his hand upon the shoulder
Of the maid. No rage, no jealousy.
She, the straying, rather felt relieved.
07.02.2003
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Loathing Christmas
Longing under the moon of damns and darkness
Feral tantrums of woe begins its address
My decent self had not but bawled its sadness
On the praised, inculcated and sulted mistress
Now Christmas come again and forevermore
My heart sings the sorrow it always adore.
The night solstice comes once again and occur
I remembered, I begged my God, mercy implore!
Memories I see and sorrow I cannot flee
Of the Christmas yonder there at the oakened tree
A Christmas night enfeebled by the worst disgrace
Of the insult spout by thy beloved mistress
Abandoned was I and left to posses solace
I was unable to concur her cruel transgress
I mourned and lament on the cruelty I can't flee
Of the Christmas yonder there at the oakened tree
Below this tree I yen of that broken affair
I yen in sorrow of what will Christmas leave me bare
Those hours when impungence so foul did even dare
Distress the moments, concuring a dame so fair
Longing under the moon of damns and darkness
Feral tantrums of woe begins its address
My decent self had not but bawled its sadness
On the praised, inculcated and sulted mistress
poem by Shabati Dokyu
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Foul play
Foul play not good
Foul players destroy themselves.
Foul play means play with injustice
Foul play means neglect justice.
Foul play I do not like
Foul play I do not like.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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To combat the pollution
Corrupts pollute the politics.
Criminals pollute the societies..
Fanatics pollute the religions.
Infidelities pollute the family
People are out to combat
The environmental pollution.
13.08.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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I Wanna Destroy You
Originally recorded by the soft boys
I wanna destroy you
I wanna destroy you
I wanna destroy you
I wanna destroy you
I feel it coming on again
Just like it did before
They fill your mind with boredom
And they lead you off to war
The way we treat each other
Really makes me feel ill
And if youre gonna fight
Then youre just dying to get killed
I wanna destroy you
I wanna destroy you
I wanna destroy you
I wanna destroy you
A box upon the media
And everything you read
They tell you your opinions
And theyre very good indeed
I wanna destroy you
And when I have destroyed you
Ill come pickin at your bones
And you wont have a single item
Left to call your own
I wanna destroy you
I wanna destroy you
Wanna destroy you
Wanna destroy you
Wanna destroy you
song performed by by Goo Goo Dolls
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Master Of Mind Can only be a Master Mind!
Seeing and hearing,
Is it eye that see?
Is it ear that hear?
Eyes are windows of Mind,
Like are ears, eyes have eyelids, ears remain open!
Seeing is not perceiving,
Light passes through the small camera,
Giving picture of world around,
Yet mind is the processor,
Process the data,
Process the colourful image,
Sometime filling with its own colour!
But it is not vision,
mind sees something itself,
Seeing through the mind without the help of eyes
Neither windows opened,
Nor light from open windows affect!
Mind is that faculty sees something within,
And day by day the vision become clear,
When mind learns it is not the seer,
It sees everything clear,
Clearly presented to the master,
And Self is the master of Mind,
When mind is pure and clear,
Without prejudice and suspense traits,
Self perceives self in its true nature,
Nothing goes bad,
processed food for thought remain good for ever!
one who sees eyes as seer,
He is ignorant,
One who sees mind as a seer,
Knows not,
One whose mind sees the seer is different,
Vision get purified, seer can see through the mind,
Scenes seen by mind with eyes closed,
when perceived by seer,
It becomes vision of life,
And that vision when becomes ambition of life,
Ambition becomes aspiration,
Aspiration transforms into mission,
Mission transmits wisdom and genius of self!
Self becomes master Of mind
Self becomes master Mind,
Master and mind becomes one,
Master Of Mind Can only be a Master Mind
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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Poem for my Grandmother
By the time
I knew grandmother
She was no more
It took sisteen-years
To know
Of her pains
On that sick bed,
My sisteen-year-old
Knowingness was shocked
To hear mum narrate her past
Grandmother as indeed a great
Woman n her life time.
Each time I go to her grave
I break down and cried for her,
I wish grandmother saw
The best of me
Before she was taken to the beyond
I know she would be proud of me
Let this poem of mine
Be for her,
My great grandmother.
poem by Efe Benjamin
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So Many Look Up To The Wealthy
Why so many respect oil barons and mining magnates
Is something I could never understand
When these people only take from Mother Nature
They foul her oceans and pollute her land.
Because of them marine and land life becoming rarer
And species becoming extinct every day
For interfering with the environment
There has to be a price as such to pay.
So many wildborn creatures near extinction
And animals and birds becoming rare
Due to deforestation and mining and oil drilling
And far too few for Nature seem to care.
So many look up to the wealthy tycoons
But somehow they do not seem to realize
That they rob Mother Nature of her beauty
Pollute the land and seas and smog the skies.
Some have become billionaires out of stealing from Mother Nature
And a most luxurious lifestyle they enjoy
Still because of them the Planet all the poorer
They pollute the land and sea and smog the sky.
Those who look up to those who defile Nature
Perhaps somehow don't seem to understand
That because of them Planet Earth all the poorer
Since they pollute the ocean and the land.
poem by Francis Duggan
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My Dear Sister Mary
It has been a few years since her I did see
Yet none quite so kind or as lovely as she
A grandmother to John Gregory son of Melissa and her son John
The years ticking by but she keeps keeping on.
As good a person would be so hard to find
As my dear sister Mary so honest and kind
About her she has such a beautiful way
The truth of her here is all that I can say.
Though she lives in New York in the U S of A
A mentor of my childhood and she still is today
I have always looked up to her and her I admire
And of singing her praises I could never tire.
Her deceased husband John was a good man and to him she was a good wife
And together they had such a wonderful life
But fond memories of him her and her son John will always retain
And in the life of John Gregory he lives again
My mentor and sibling much to her I do owe
The seeds of good karma for herself she does sow
She is one who believes on a fair go for all
And only good things about her I have to recall.
poem by Francis Duggan
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There is nothing training cannot do. Nothing is above its reach. It can turn bad morals to good; it can destroy bad principles and recreate good ones; it can lift men to angelship.
quote by Mark Twain
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Grandmother
Grandmother, oh Grandmother
Looking from above.
I need your wisdom and your balance.
Most of all I need your love.
I hear you and I see you,
When I open my mind's eye.
I feel you wrapped around me,
In the space where I am "I".
Your kindness and your knowledge,
I need within me now,
For I'm in a constant turmoil.
Where to turn; which way and how?
Please help me to rebalance.
On my life's path forward go,
For when my mind is muddled
The answers you always know.
I know you never leave me,
In my aura sitting calm.
I thank you wisest Grandmother,
For keeping me safe from harm.
poem by Rosi Caswell
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Grandmother Told Me So
The declaration has been spoken,
For Grandmother told me so.
The darkeys have got their fetlocks broken,
For Grandmother told me so.
Oh, won't they have a lot of iron on hand!
And when the news travels,
Oh, won't it be grand!
'Twill sweep like a sugarcane over the land,
For Grandmother told me so.
American Eagle! hysterical bird!
Oh, flap your wing and crow!
The slaves are embellished--yes, that's the word,
For Grandmother told me so!
There's curious times in that ur section,
For Grandmother told me so.
They think they will have a resurrection,
For Grandmother told me so.
The penholders raving like persons insane --
The darkeys in exodus, raising cane,
And singing like martingales after a rain,
For Grandmother told me so.
But President Abe forgot Kentucky,
For Grandmother told me so.
And Geneses, too -- and that's unlucky,
For Grandmother told me so.
Malicious champagne will be open'd in vain,
Until we shall break the last ox-yoke and chain --
Till through the Benighted States freedom shall reign,
For Grandmother told me so.
poem by Henry Clay Work
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The Foul
The foul was in for prison,
My utterances condemn your pleasures,
Attacked, bitten and arranged to die,
Yes, our prize is working on poison
As where I land is wondered to represent
A decree tonight.
I appreciate a crying act, to excommunicate
Him,
To be master, and maiden, and monster of the planets
That cry with water and wit.
The foul I have committed is born from the death
Of a master, and a tear has fallen because of this.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Why Do Children Want To Grow
Why do Children
of now adays
Want to grow so fast
to look grown up
to think grown up
But still be a child at heart
I would live my childhood
OVER again just to be a child
to have pure heart
Pure minds, pure dreams
Instead of a childhood of distain
To play without a care
And see the magic of Mother Nature
And use imagination
To dance on rainbows
And white fluffy clouds
To play hide and seek
In the candy land of our dreams
To ride on unicorns
And sprinkle fair dust
To take a flight in
A midsummer dream
Why would children of today
Pass all this by
Just to be grown up
In a world like ours
Why lose the innocence
Of childhood sweet dreams
Just to rush into
The uncertainty of life
Why bypass your childhood
Just to be an adult of today
only to yearn the loss
of you childhood of yesterday
poem by Kaila George
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Purer Soul
My mind was pure when I was nothing,
The house of my soul carried everything;
And so selflessness extracted a meaning,
And so doubt never entered the spirit;
For we are soldiers and slaves of a lead pencil,
Inscribing the livid words of rigour,
The regimentation is special now,
The hearts are inculcated with pride.
This mirror called the heart is housing my soul
Like the other hearts of such loving moments.
This mind is feeling purer than the other spirit,
These minds are engaged in conversation
That is promised, that believes in holiness.
poem by Naveed Akram
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The Woodsmen Of San Juan
Until sunset!
From the dawn!
See the woodsmen of San Juan,
They want bread before it’s gone!
Those from Roque,
Feeling rocky,
Those from Rique,
Feeling tricky,
Those from Trique,
Sawing on!
Straddling his grandmother’s firm knees,
Jogging rhythmically, the boy rides horsey
Till both tremble, filled with exaltation;
The granny smiles with motherly affection,
But then a premonition flashes through
Her mind: fear for the grief and anguish
The coming days hold for her grandson.
See the woodsmen of San Juan,
They want bread before it’s gone.
Sss-sss-sawing,
Sawing on!
Those deep furrows tell the story
Of long suffering and unvoiced sorrows,
On her head time has left its snow,
On her brow, pain few have known;
Her eyes, clouded by the years,
Are turbid mirrors that oft retain
Images from lives forever gone.
Those from Roque, feeling rocky,
Sss-sss-sawing, sawing on!
Tomorrow, when the beloved grandmother
Sleeps deep beneath the earth, where others,
Too, dwell in the dark shadows
Of memory, sweetly will come,
Across eternity, in somber cadences,
Sad poems of childhood remembrances:
Her voice singing the old song!
Those from Rique, feeling tricky,
Sss-sss-sawing, sawing on!
Then, astride his grandmother’s weary knees,
Jogging rhythmically, the boy rides horsey
Till both tremble, filled with exaltation;
The granny smiles with motherly affection,
But then a premonition flashes through
Her mind: fear of the grief and anguish
The coming days hold for her grandson.
Until sunset!
From the dawn!
See the woodsmen of San Juan,
They want bread before it’s gone,
Those from Roque,
Feeling rocky,
Those from Rique,
Feeling tricky.
Sss-sss-sawing, sawing on!
Sss-sss-sawing, sawing on!
poem by Jose Asuncion Silva
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The real object of those who resorted to Secession, as well as those who sustained it, was not to overthrow the Government of the United States but to perpetuate the principles upon which it was founded. The object in quitting the Union was not to destroy, but to save the principles of the Constitution.
quote by Alexander Hamilton Stephens
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Our Childrens Legacy - This Ruined Earth
In that dreamlike state we call living
We give in to desires of the flesh
We take without thought, without giving
until there is nothing left
We destroy all the land round about us
We'll destroy the balance of life
Barren wastes will lie deserted
Whilst we still cause trouble and strife
We have no thoughts of the future
Our childrens legacy, a barren land
So pollute and destroy, build and bomb
leave no green land, just atomic sand
Tear down the trees, concrete it over
after all, WE won't be around that long.
January 1988
poem by Penni Currie
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My identity is linked to my grandmother, who's pure Filipino, as pure as you can probably get. And that shaped my imagination. So that's how I identify.
quote by Jessica Hagedorn
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Through Hands Of Time
‘Early in the morning, just around supper time.’
Contrasts are good, to make children laugh.
There is something in an opposing rhyme.
Which appeals to a gleeful childhood mind.
There are wise lessons learned in nursery rhymes.
Morals taught best with humour as they ought.
Powerful wonderful images, a child’s mind binds.
Ancient teaching passed down, through hands of time.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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