Few of us will forget the wail of mingled grief, rage and horror which rose from the camp when the Indians returned to it and recognized their slaughtered warriors, women, and children.
quote by John Gibbon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Freedom of expression for M lady Christine Kerr
Freedom of expression
A woman cries when she is glad
A woman cries when she is mad.
A woman cries when she is sad.
Tears of pleasure, rage and grief
all bring some measure of relief
and that is why a woman cries.
But men are not supposed to cry.
Forbidden by society,
though no knows the reason why.
Men may not let their feeling sho.
Men must appear to be macho
and that is why men do not cry.
Though women claim equality.
The truth is different obviously.
Women can expect to be
allowed to cry quite openly.
But men are still inhibited
for them tears are prohibited
Although I only theorise
I’m wise enough to realise
that some men taken by surprise.
Will weep and wail as women do
and demonstrate the way they feel.
Their rage and grief is just as real.
As anything a woman a woman feels.
Why should a man try to conceal
what his hot tears clearly reveal.
That he is sad or mad or glad.
Perhaps its time to think again
what is appropriate for men.
27-Feb-09
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Wail! , Wail! ! , Wail! ! ! for HAITI.
Wail, ! Wail, ! ! Wail for HAITI! ! ! ! ! !
Wail for the sight is Gory,
Wail for the deaths of these Infants
Wail for the deaths of these women, ; young, and Old
Wail for the loss of the productive workforce of this Nation
Wail for the Calamity that came within few seconds to claim thousands of lives.
Wail for the loss of generations of this Land called Haiti
Wail for the Unconsolable mothers, and fathers for the loss of their loved ones
Wail, if you have tears in your tear glands,
Wail, if you have heart that is meek
May the Almighty console us all, for the sights of the dead in the rubbles too frightening to look.
poem by Segun Rasaki
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To illustrate to the Indians the advantages the white race had in the telephone I divided a body of warriors from Sitting Bull's camp into two parties and had them talk to each other over the telephone line.
quote by Nelson A. Miles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sift And Shift
with grief are black veils of women
trying to filter the gleaming of tears
with grief are the hands trying to
sift and shift the sounds of the cries
with grief are women
mourning for the deaths of men
for the loss of children
for the rape of the earth
the thin crust of morals
dirt of the feet
dusts.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Year Later
Freshman year, cool September morn',
A day which brings despair.
Two warriors standing proud and tall,
Struck down by eagles of the enemy.
What once was there, there was no more.
No more warriors, but heroes are what we have.
Men and women, burdened by grief,
Rise like the Phoenix out of the ashes.
A year later...
Sophomore year, a cool September morn',
A year of pain and suffering gone by.
Two warriors, passed into ghostly passages,
Still live on, as clouds in the sky.
poem by Christine Elm
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Blockhouses had been erected right over the country
Blockhouses had been erected right over the country,
farms had been entered and burnt to the ground,
Livestock and animals had been slaughtered
and women and children were rounded up
and interned into death camps.
Young boys
were set against white walls
and firing squads
was set against them
and a super power
clenched its fist around this country
and stood gigantic
against every Boer farmer.
l’Envoi
That time will be forever black
in history
with the misdeeds of the British
that is well known
and the ruination of a nation, arousing from it
where women and children perished as targets
at the commands of Horatio Herbert Kitchener.
[Note: My own great grandmother died in a British concentration camp and my great grandfather was sent by the British to St. Helena as a prisoner of war and as a result of this, my grandfather(Gert Strydom) grew up in a orphanage.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Wounded Knee Creek
Crazy Horse, War Chief of the Sioux Indians of the North American plains, was murdered by white soldiers on September 5th,1877. He was 35.
Soldiers from Fort Robinson came smiling
Pretending friendship to Crazy Horse
Offering the Sioux a lasting peace treaty
But only if the War Chief returned with them.
Trusting lies of those who never honoured any treaty
Crazy Horse rode unarmed into the fort
They barred the gates and held him by the arms
While private William Gentles bayoneted him twice.
Parents of Crazy Horse came to the fort
Took away the body of their warrior son
Secretly buried his majestic heart
At a place called Wounded Knee Creek.
American history records the Indian nations were finally defeated by white soldiers at a place called Wounded Knee Creek on December 29,1890. But it was a massacre. The Indians had surrendered. They were unarmed prisoners when the soldiers opened fire.300 men, women and children were killed.4 men, and 47 women and children survived.
poem by Colin Ian Jeffery
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Sad Women.
Sad women always get up
to make breakfast for their children,
To tell him, ''have a nice day''
Sad women go to work and always do their best,
they make lunch and always sit last,
Sad women buy groceries on the way home,
make phone calls to hear someone's voice,
they are faithful to their promises,
Sad women take upon other's grief
Sad women comfort others and say
''everything will be okay'',
they don't let their sadness to come out,
Sad women don't have time to be sad,
Sad women cry when lights go out..
poem by Daria Domitrovic
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It is women who bear the race in bloody agony. Suffering is a kind of horror. Blood is a kind of horror. Women are born with horror in their very bloodstream. It is a biological thing.
quote by Bela Lugosi
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Death Of Aliatar
FROM THE SPANISH.
'Tis not with gilded sabres
That gleam in baldricks blue,
Nor nodding plumes in caps of Fez,
Of gay and gaudy hue--
But, habited in mourning weeds,
Come marching from afar,
By four and four, the valiant men
Who fought with Aliatar.
All mournfully and slowly
The afflicted warriors come,
To the deep wail of the trumpet,
And beat of muffled drum.
The banner of the Phenix,
The flag that loved the sky,
That scarce the wind dared wanton with,
It flew so proud and high--
Now leaves its place in battle-field,
And sweeps the ground in grief,
The bearer drags its glorious folds
Behind the fallen chief,
As mournfully and slowly
The afflicted warriors come,
To the deep wail of the trumpet,
And beat of muffled drum.
Brave Aliatar led forward
A hundred Moors to go
To where his brother held Motril
Against the leaguering foe.
On horseback went the gallant Moor,
That gallant band to lead;
And now his bier is at the gate,
From whence he pricked his steed.
While mournfully and slowly
The afflicted warriors come,
To the deep wail of the trumpet,
And beat of muffled drum.
The knights of the Grand Master
In crowded ambush lay;
They rushed upon him where the reeds
Were thick beside the way;
They smote the valiant Aliatar,
They smote the warrior dead,
And broken, but not beaten, were
The gallant ranks he led.
Now mournfully and slowly
The afflicted warriors come,
To the deep wail of the trumpet,
And beat of muffled drum.
Oh! what was Zayda's sorrow,
How passionate her cries!
Her lover's wounds streamed not more free
Than that poor maiden's eyes.
Say, Love--for didst thou see her tears:
Oh, no! he drew more tight
The blinding fillet o'er his lids
To spare his eyes the sight.
While mournfully and slowly
The afflicted warriors come,
To the deep wail of the trumpet,
And beat of muffled drum.
Nor Zayda weeps him only,
But all that dwell between
The great Alhambra's palace walls
And springs of Albaicin.
The ladies weep the flower of knights,
The brave the bravest here;
The people weep a champion,
The Alcaydes a noble peer.
While mournfully and slowly
The afflicted warriors come,
To the deep wail of the trumpet,
And beat of muffled drum.
poem by William Cullen Bryant
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rage To Love (Extended Version)
Ten little Indians
Standin' in a row
All dressed up
But nowhere to go
Lookin' for a target
Lookin' for a man ........
Just get me outta here
It's not the place
My mind's been thinkin' on
Just push me out again
It's no use hangin' round or hangin'on
Seven little Indians
Standin' in a row
The compere walks on the stage and he says
"Sing it Girls"
But the band's no good
And the song don't cut it
Just get me outta here
It's not the place
My mind's been thinkin' on
Just push me out again
It's no use hangin' round or hangin'on
Come on, let's go tonight
We gotta brand new way to celebrate it
Oh - I got this rage to love
Baby - it's so right
And if you feel it ...
Good !
Dedicate it
Oh - I got this rage to love
Three little indians
Cryin' in their make-up
Nobody stops
And nobody cares
Just get me outta here
It's not the place
My mind's been thinkin' on
Just push me out again
It's no use hangin' round or hangin'on
Come on let's go tonight
We gotta brand new way to celebrate it
Oh - I got this rage to love
Baby it's so right
And if you feel it...
Good !
Dedicate it
Oh I got this rage to...
Oh it's just this rage to...
Oh I got this rage to love
song performed by by Kim Wilde
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hammer Horror
You stood in the belltower,
But now youre gone.
So who knows all the sights
Of notre dame?
Theyve got the stars for the gallant hearts.
Im the replacement for your part.
But all I want to do is forget
You, friend.
Hammer horror, hammer horror,
Wont leave me alone.
The first time in my life,
I leave the lights on
To ease my soul.
Hammer horror, hammer horror,
Wont leave it alone.
I dont know,
Is this the right thing to do?
Rehearsing in your things,
I feel guilty.
And retracing all the scenes,
Of your big hit,
Oh, god, you needed the leading role.
It wasnt me who made you go, though.
Now all I want to do is forget
You, friend.
Hammer horror, hammer horror,
Wont leave me alone.
The first time in my life,
I leave the lights on
To ease my soul.
Hammer horror, hammer horror,
Wont leave it alone.
I dont know,
Is this the right thing to do?
Who calls me from the other side
Of the street?
And who taps me on the shoulder?
I turn around, but youre gone.
Ive got a hunch that youre following,
To get your own back on me.
So all I want to do is forget
You, friend.
Hammer horror, hammer horror,
Wont leave me alone.
The first time in my life,
I leave the lights on
To ease my soul.
Hammer horror, hammer horror,
Wont leave it alone.
I dont know,
Is this the right thing to do?
song performed by by Kate Bush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rage To Love
Written by ricky & marty wilde
Ten little indians
Standin in a row
All dressed up
But nowhere to go
Lookin for a target
Lookin for a man ........
Just get me outta here
Its not the place
My minds been thinkin on
Just push me out again
Its no use hangin round or hanginon
Seven little indians
Standin in a row
The compere walks on the stage and he says
Sing it girls
But the bands no good
And the song dont cut it
Just get me outta here
Its not the place
My minds been thinkin on
Just push me out again
Its no use hangin round or hanginon
Come on, lets go tonight
We gotta brand new way to celebrate it
Oh - I got this rage to love
Baby - its so right
And if you feel it ...
Good !
Dedicate it
Oh - I got this rage to love
Three little indians
Cryin in their make-up
Nobody stops
And nobody cares
Just get me outta here
Its not the place
My minds been thinkin on
Just push me out again
Its no use hangin round or hanginon
Come on lets go tonight
We gotta brand new way to celebrate it
Oh - I got this rage to love
Baby its so right
And if you feel it...
Good !
Dedicate it
Oh I got this rage to...
Oh its just this rage to... oh I got this rage to love
song performed by by Kim Wilde
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We’re Indians First and Lastly!
We’re Indians firstly!
And that’s the way, we’re known all o’er the globe;
And that is what we tell the world around;
This is our primary identity.
We’re Indians firstly!
We may belong to any state by birth;
Then come our language, creed, community;
We’re Indians primarily!
We’re Indians firstly!
United are we by the tricolor;
The soil is one, though states be many;
We’re Indians basically!
We’re proud of our rich our Indian heritage;
Our thirst is quenched by rivers of India;
Our hunger is appeased by crops grown here;
We’re Indians first and ultimately!
Let none dare try to sow seeds of discord;
The Indian’s free to live in any state;
When asked, let always be our reply,
‘We’re Indians firstly!
God gave one sun and moon to all of us;
We live under the sky, our common roof;
We enjoy freedom got by same ‘Struggle’!
We’re Indians all, firstly!
We’re Indians firstly!
Our patriotism is Indianness;
Our pride’s in being born as Indians;
We’re Indians first and lastly!
All Indians are our brothers and sisters;
We love our fellowmen as our brethren;
Same blood of oneness flows within us all;
We’re Indians first, always, ultimately!
‘Jai Hind! Jai Bharat! Jai bharatiya! Jai bharatvaasi!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 6-2-2010
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Grief Of My Red Rose
Grief is always hiding behind me
The horrible, terrible thing
It strikes when I am least looking
And lately, it's taking everything
My love is gone, withered and died
A red rose so fair
I have nothing to hide
My red rose just didn't care
When I was least expecting it
Grief of that love came lurking near
What if my rose just never fit?
I now have a morbid fear
What if it never belongs to anyone else?
What if it's not meant to give away?
What if I have to keep it to myself
For the rest of my days?
I will lose it for sure
So I won't let that happen
Grief can't take me by surprise
And i cannot wait until when
My red rose will bloom once more
It's petals will be full, soon
And I will be more cautious than before
Although true love comes once in a blue moon.
poem by Eden St. Andrews
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Two Sided Love
Two Sided Love
By Lori Triggs
Copyrighted 24 2009
Women think with their hearts,
men think with their Johnson.
Women think with their heads,
men think with the wrong head, they have two heads.
Women give love with men,
men give screwing with women.
Women want to touch men,
men want to get abusive to women.
Women want be emotional with men,
men want to be unemotional with women.
Women want have physical attraction with men,
men want to give the abusive apart to women.
Women want sex with men,
men want to give rape to women.
Women wants to talk to men,
men want watch TV and screw women.
Women want to eat out with men,
men want a free ride from the women.
Women want to go to movies with men,
men want play games on computer.
Women want children with the men,
men are children.
Women are independent,
men are dependent.
Women achieve goals,
men half the time never finish their goals.
Women are unselfish even caring to men,
men are selfish besides uncaring to women.
Women give true love to men,
men give infatuation to woman.
poem by Lori Triggs
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Women can break down barriers to opportunity, and men, many of them reluctantly, have learned to relate to women as their equals in thought and action. But except for an eccentric few, women do not want to become warriors.
quote by Suzanne Fields
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Soroptimist International
I have found friends, friends who care,
They live the whole world over.
Women who love life,
Women who are strong,
Women who help women,
Empower, empower, empower.
As a young woman, I needed
Help, encouragement and to be empowed.
I was struggling as a single mom
Working full time and oh so tired
With two children by the hand - when
The Soroptimist Training Award
Chosen, I was chosen, It was mine.
The next semester courses were paid for
With the help I received, no longer did I worry for
I completed my diploma and onward to my goal!
Working hard in social service agencies
Helping others as I could
Finally the day arrived when a Ph.D. was mine.
Thirteen years in private family counselling
Children grown and doing well
I returned to the place where it all started
To Soroptimists and I must tell -
The story of my award and the life it brought to me
Through kind and loving women
Who care when it seems there is no sign.
I am excited with each step
As I learn and go forward
Women teaching women and
Women helping women
It is my time to give
My time to empower women with
An organization I believe in.
To take on the challenges of life
Domestic violence and trafficking
So demoralizing to women and their children
Public education, important as it is
Educate all who will listen to the stats and stories told.
We all know of the hardships women endure
So, give, empower, teach, and train.
Women helping women-
Soroptimists, Soroptimists, Hurray for Soroptimists!
poem by Eva L. Shaw
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In camp was found a book, the first of the kind I had ever seen, in which I was made a great hero, slaying Indians by the hundreds.
quote by Kit Carson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Where Your First Rose?
Someone use to remember loved once after many years (first rose-First love) that we never forget. Looking for it again hence nothing can accomplishes first love. Time has changed every things...
____________________________________ ______________________
Where your first rose?
Where your first rose?
I know you looking for it
But you cannot find...
Where your first rose?
I know you having forget it
Somewhere that you don’t know...
Where your first rose?
Hiding some where
You cannot ever reach...
Where your first rose?
Beneath someone heart
That you don’t know the person...
Where your first rose?
That cherish for ever
You forget to rescue it...
Where your first rose?
That you need to smell it
But you didn’t...
Where your first rose?
Smell like angels perfume
You once smell...
Where your first rose?
That you looking every where
Run away from you...
Where your first rose?
That born together in every soul
But you chased away...
Where your first rose?
That gives you happiness
Forever and forever...
Where your first rose?
That you kissed it every day
When you have it...
Where your first rose?
That you still looking for it
After many years left by...
Where your first rose?
That gives you every thing
Warm, happiness and true love...
Where your first rose?
That only dedicated you
By a true angel on earth...
Where your first rose?
You will have it never
Again with jealous eyes...
Where your first rose?
That gives to you
Behalf of true love...
Where your first rose?
That’s become a disappear
After you say no...
Where your first rose?
That has an ocean deep of value
You value it forever...
Where your first rose?
Away from you now
That’s you call every day...
Where your first rose?
You call by dreams
But really cannot touch...
Where your first rose?
You call by name
But didn’t hear your voice...
Where your first rose?
Whispering with you
Every nights and days...
Where your first rose?
That sung a songs ever nights
To lullaby...
Where your first rose?
That you don’t know
where its still...
That’s with me
By
O.W.Palitha Ariyarathna
Copyright, O.W. Palitha Ariyarathna.2010
All Rights Reserved By Author: 2010
poem by Palitha Ariyarathna
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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