Towns and cities throughout the United States have opened their hearts and homes to thousands of families displaced from their homes as a result of this horrific storm.
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Illiteracy
some homes breed love
some homes breed hatred
some homes breed moderation
some homes breed extremes
some homes breed worldliness
some homes breed racism
some homes breed kindness
somehomes breed religious bigotry
throw in illiteracy and any country would be bloom to bits
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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O Town And City To Down And Pity !
O TOWN AND CITY TO DOWN AND PITY
O towns and cities!
If anything goes amiss
In your arteries and veins
Town would tumble 'down'
And city would be a'pity'!
Even the winds have no knowledge
Of the lanes and by lanes
Of the labyrinthine towns!
Let me tell you,
It is no wonder;
The day is not far off
When city folks buy air in kilos
From supermarkets,
And in their living burrows
Churn it with their electric fans
All through the day
To collect every disease
Named and unnamed!
If you search their addresses,
Better approach the diseases
That would guide you in a flash
To their miserable homes!
Both their homes and minds,
Lo, have shrunk like small mustard!
The bit of the sky that they could see
Is just to the size of their plates!
If peace is the one they dream for
They would never get it even in death!
Oh, everything is topsy-turvy here!
They inhale carbon-di-oxide
And exhale their own life!
--S.CHANDRA KALAADHAR
poem by Sundaram Chandrakalaadhar
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Watery Rood
The factory farmed chickens
never given a place to brood.
In the livestock states
tornado, hurricane and flood.
The cross to which the animals were nailed
has boomeranged as watery rood.
*********
June 4,2008, severe thunderstorms impact the upper Midwest United States. Tornadoes, hail, severe lightning, . Flash flooding caused evacuation of thousands of homes in low-lying areas. The situation worsened as rain continued on June 5. Flooding has continued up to June 14. States affected: Illinois, Indiana, Iowa, Michigan, Minnesota, Missouri, and Wisconsin.
poem by O. Anna Niemus
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Osama Can You See
I remember when you attacked us, in our own land
It seems like only yesterday...
When so many... thousands of my brothers and sisters laid
The wounds you left... cut us so very deep
Still on our minds...
Most likely forever... we'll keep
Yes... We had tried to be good neighbors
Foods, medicines, dams floods controlled.
But for our own tears?
They've just endlessly flowed...
And
For our torn hearts.... bleeding,
For our souls.... pains beyond pains.... and sad...
Yet, from with in comes something,
That you never knew we had!
Love for our country
United... heart to heart
And when needed... hand to hand
Hurt us... yes...Yes!
Yet together we still stand
Well... Old Rett Buttler said....He said it best for us... Frankly Osama...
We now don't give a Damn
You've opened such a Big Can of Worms
Our Only Warning For The Taliban's
So we're still burying our dead... and crying... and...(oh,)
Some more flowers, and tears on their graves...
This is why we came to teach you about
The Homes of The Brave
And so
By the Dawns Early Light...
The Rockets Red Glare...
The Bombs Bursting in Air...
Osama Can You See?
Our Flag is Still out There...
And con-quer we must...
For our cause... it is just....
And this be our mot-to.........
In God is always our trust....
And that star-span-gled banner......
In tri-umph still waves.......
Over the Lands of the Free..........
And the Homes of the Brave..........
poem by Clyde Bryson
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And They Obey
Smash down the cities.
Knock the walls to pieces.
Break the factories and cathedrals, warehouses
and homes
Into loose piles of stone and lumber and black
burnt wood:
You are the soldiers and we command you.
Build up the cities.
Set up the walls again.
Put together once more the factories and cathedrals,
warehouses and homes
Into buildings for life and labor:
You are workmen and citizens all: We
command you.
poem by Carl Sandburg
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The newer homes did not sustain as much damage because they were built to better safety codes; they were better designed, higher wind loads for the roof. All of those facets made those homes sustain the storm a whole lot better.
quote by Ginny B. Waite
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Internally Displaced Persons (IDPs)
They leave their homes
Unwillingly forced
And follow their fate
Through fields and trails
Massifs and woods
With all their goods
Love and hate
Mores and tales
All in bales
Carrying their own
Flesh and bones
Feet like stones
Their bodies and souls
Kids and crones
Torn by storms,
Rains and gales
Attacked by guns,
Helis and drones
No role to play
In games of peace
And deadly war
Not a word they say
But a question,
Why? What for?
While we yawn
Sitting at ease
In our climes
They leave their homes
And reside in camps
Strive for a living
Internally displaced and dead
Beg for a dropp of water
And a piece of bread!
(May 12,2009)
(*) Internally Displaced Persons (IDPs) is a neoteric terminology used in reference to those people who adopt refuge in their own countries due to any life threatening disturbance like fight between the extremists and security agencies or fight between the local millitant groups that results in catastrophic changes in their lives and they leave their homes due to anarchy in their respective area. (NAN)
poem by Naseer Ahmed Nasir
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And, of course, millions of us cross the border to work in US homes and gardens and factories and carpentry shops and restaurants, and if you go to a restaurant pretty much anywhere in the United States, the chances are that the dishes will be washed by a Mexican.
quote by Alma Guillermoprieto
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In Joy & Sorrow
Oh girl we are the same
We are young and lost and so afraid
There? s no cure for the pain
No shelter from the rain
All our prayers seem to fail
In joy and sorrow my homes in your arms
In world so hollow
It is breaking my heart
In joy and sorrow my homes in your amrs
In world so hollow
It is breaking my heart
Oh girl we are the same
We are strong and blessed and so brave
With souls to be saved
And faith regained
All our tears wipe away
In joy and sorrow my homes in your arms
In world so hollow
It is breaking my heart
In joy and sorrow my homes in your arms
In world so hollow
It is breaking my heart
In joy and sorrow my homes in your arms
In world so hollow
It is breaking my heart
In joy and sorrow my homes in your arms
In world so hollow
It is breaking my heart
And my homes in your arms
And it is breaking my heart
My homes in your arms
And it is breaking my heart
song performed by by H.i.m. (his Infernal Majesty)
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Homes Of England
The stately homes of England
How beautiful they stand!
Amidst their tall ancestral trees,
O'er all the pleasant land!
The deer across their green sward bound
Through shade and sunny gleam,
And the swan glides past them with the sound
Of some rejoicing stream.
The merry homes of England!
Around their hearths by night,
What gladsome looks of household love
Meet in the ruddy light!
There woman's voice flows forth in song,
Or childhood's tale is told;
Or lips move tunefully along
Some glorious page of old.
The cottage homes of England!
By thousands on her plains,
They are smiling o'er the silv'ry brook,
And round the hamlet-fanes;
Through glowing orchards forth they peep,
Each from its nook of leaves;
And fearless there the lowly sleep,
As the bird beneath their eaves.
The free fair homes of England!
Long, long in hut and hall
May hearts of native proof be rear'd
To guard each hallow'd wall.
And green for ever be the groves,
And bright the flow'ry sod,
Where first the child's glad spirit loves
Its country and its God.
poem by Felicia Dorothea Hemans
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There is $1.4 billion a day in trade that goes back and forth across the border. That means millions of jobs and livelihoods for families here in Canada and for families in the United States.
quote by Paul Cellucci
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Kalahari Weavers
The weaver birds build homes together
Great thatch domes
They enter and leave
Circling in their thousands
Nests embracing great thorn trees
And no wisp or stalk is wasted
The weaver birds build commune homes
That stately sway in the breeze of dawn
Freezing under the midday blaze
Defiant in the cruellest evening storm
Tireless desert artisans
Peerless design skills
Resolved to live together by
Savannah stripped bare of life
And grasses of which few survive
If I had a week, a shade
And water-bottle filled
I would stay to watch them build.
poem by Frank Bana
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Homes Not a Home
Homes not a home without you
Homes not home without the ones you love
Homes not a home when one is missing
That missing one is the heart of the home
To to make the home a home again you go looking for them
in good weather or bad weather
You look all over town..
Screaming and shouting their name.
Making all kind of sounds
Hooting and a hollering.
and carring on.
just to make a point.
missing one, come home...
you are loved.
come home safe
return to us
a homes not a home with out you
you are unique
you are rare
Theres no one like you.
you, we can't replace..
come home come home
so home can be a home again.
Dedicated to carlos ortiz
poem by Krystal Vincent
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Postmortem Bush's Invasion Iraq
We remember invasion Iraq, attacking cities,
bridges, electricity, water supplies;
Iraqis driven from homes, separated families...
Life is, so much better, not; for surviving Iraqis,
post, Bush invasion, New World Order, strategies;
for those, not killed, by demonic plan, Illuminati's...
poem by Terence George Craddock
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When They Moan
When they moan...
They are much upset.
And beset in troubled homes.
When they moan...
Storm clouds have arrived.
And they can not hide,
Their groans.
When they moan!
Fed up by the rise of lies,
Told about but denied.
And there is no where to put aside their pride,
When they moan.
With a besetting that upsets them...
In their troubled homes.
And displeasures once unknown are shown.
As they gather to scatter chatter,
That droans.
When they moan.
In voices now condoned,
They moan.
With a groaning shown and known,
From their homes.
Leaving no one left alone,
When the moaning droans.
Aye curumba!
With a groaning shown and known,
From their homes.
Aye curumba!
Leaving no one left alone,
When the moaning droans.
Aye curumba!
In voices now condoned...
They moan.
Aye curumba!
With a groaning shown and known,
From their homes.
Aye curumba!
Leaving no one left alone,
When the moaning droans.
Aye curumba!
In voices now condoned...
They moan.
Aye curumba!
With a groaning shown and known,
When they moan!
Dedicated:
To my Latino brothers and sisters,
experiencing injustices 'anywhere'...
all one day will be well.
Your struggles have not gone unnoticed.
And your contributions are duly noted!
I love you.
~LSP~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The oath of renunciation and allegiance is a solemn vow taken by thousands of immigrants each year to become a United States citizen. The oath is the fundamental statement of allegiance to the United States, and this allegiance is what unites America.
Animal Rights (Migration To U.S)
Iris, Mona, Orla, Harry, Pinky and Charmy are going to emigrate,
to a far, far country United States,
leaving behind them a lot of sad stories,
to live in new homes happily,
Mona was abandoned in a hospital.
iris was injured in her hand.
With stick and brick, Charmy was severely beaten.
On the streets, Orlan, Harry and Pinky were abandoned.
They all were rescued by Animal Rescue Team Taiwan,
and helped find new owner in L.A, Calif, across vast ocean.
They need to turn a new leaf of life,
because the previous owners abused animal rights.
ARTT has carried out 188 oversea adoption,
since its foundation.
It has placed 765 dogs and cats in new homes in U.S,
because a kind, warm heart the new owners possess.
If you are a lover of dog,
you can visit www.savedogs.org.
I have been very happy with my homes, but homes really are no more than the people who live in them.
quote by Nancy Reagan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Temperance Reform Clubs
Air -- "Perhaps"
Some enterprising people,
In our cities and towns,
Have gone to organizing clubs
Of men that's fallen down;
In estimation fallen low --
Now they may rise again,
And be respected citizens
Throughout our native land.
CHORUS:
The temperance reform club,
Forever may it stand,
And everyone that loves strong drink
Pray, join it heart and hand.
Then many a home will be bright,
And many a heart made glad,
It will be the greatest blessing
This nation ever had.
Manufacturers of strong drink
Can find better employ,
Than bring to ruin poor families,
And thousand souls destroy,
Likewise proprietors of saloons
Lose many a customer;
Those men now rather stay at home,
That place they now prefer.
Chorus --
Don't be ashamed to wear your badge
Of ribbon on your breast,
It shows you've joined the club to be
A man among the rest.
Your kindred friends will love to see
You honored, sober man,
And all the friends that wish you well
Will help you if they can.
Chorus --
Perhaps you have a mother,
Likewise a sister, too;
Perhaps you have a sweetheart
That thinks the most of you.
Perhaps you have a loving wife,
And little ones at home,
Their hearts rejoice to see that you
Can let strong drink alone.
Chorus --
Many a man joined the club
That never drank a drachm,
Those noble men were kind and brave
They care not for the slang --
The slang they meet on every side:
"You're a reform drunkard, too;
You've joined the red ribbon brigade,
Among the drunkard crew."
Chorus --
It shows their hearts were very kind,
They wish to save poor souls
That loved the intoxication cup,
That signed the temperance roll.
Dear friends, ever keep rolling
The work you have begun,
Those noble men will not repent,
I hope, throughout our land.
Chorus --
Dr. Reynolds is a noble man,
He has worked hard to save
Some people in our cities and towns,
From out a drunkard's grave.
There is other men to help him now,
He lectures not alone
Many a heart that blesses them
From out now happy homes.
poem by Julia A Moore
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Rain.
the grass waving in the wind
the tree's swaying in the breeze
the windy weather the rain
winter
the clouds of different shades
black grey white
smoke rising above the house's
fire's alight
warming the air within there homes
keeping them warm from the cold
air outside there cozy homes
rain starting to pour apon there roofs
hitting hard
the weather getting worse
poeple hiding in there homes
away from it all.
poem by Nick.. Sorensen
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