Courtesy
I remember years ago
when courtesy was quite normal
amongst most people.
Giving up your seat on a bus
to someone elderly or a mum to be.
Opening the door for a woman
or someone struggling with something.
Being polite to everyone, you met.
Courtesy and respect
then used to hold each other’s hand,
but not anymore, I am afraid.
They have almost vanished
through the passing of time.
Some youngsters swear at you
instead of saying thank you
when you offer to help them out a bit.
The helping hands are hardly ever there
when you need one occasionally.
Instead, they just ignore you
and pass on their way.
I hope someone soon will think
of having a courtesy day.
A day when the whole world
can back on track
with giving a little courtesy every day.
27 April 2009
poem by David Harris
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Related quotes
Buddhist Lesson # 2
enlightment,
the act of opening,
like a rosebud,
like a mother,
opening the door...
like a child
opening a present,
like a woman
opening to a man....
opening...
all the hidden chambers,
every door to every
secret kingdom of the soul.....
opening the box that holds
your secret thoughts, desires....
opening...
the door of the cage,
letting the winged breath fly....
opening....
your heart to itself,
and to all hearts beating....
opening....
the vault of conceptions,
the entrance to the tomb
of past lives and memories....
opening...
your hands to the world
as if it were your neighbor,
and you, it's home!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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A Short Report
It was a short report
on the third page
somewhere near the bottom
an elderly woman
living alone
no relatives
or at least none nearby
no friends
or at least none that cared.
She had some money
how much they didn't say.
She walked down the high street
giving it away.
The social services got involved
put her in a home
doped her with pills
found someone to manage her money.
She can live on it for years and years.
But if the money's hers
why shouldn't she give it away
does giving have to mean
you're either senile or insane?
poem by Gillian Commerford
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Loud Is The Cry Of War
Loud is the cry of war
Many people shall it smite
Opening up death's dark door
Our people shaken to the core
As we feel our enemies bite
Loud is the cry of war
Many soldiers now implore
If this battle was worth the fight
Opening up death's dark door
Many hearts lie broken and torn
An Endless number of sleepless nights
Loud is the cry of war
Crowded will be heaven's shore
As the dead now take their heavenly flight
Opening up death's dark door
Although we won, we lost much more
As empty cries echo through the night
Opening up death's dark door
Loud is the cry of was
poem by Cat Winder
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Blank Years
what music mom let me hear
when i was minus one to three years old?
they say it has a great bearing on my life
yet how they secretly seeped into me
i am as amnestic as the granny next door
who has lost touch with all her years
second poem
-----
ask me what i remember
for the years after i was three
and nothing else before that
i am an amnastic as the old woman
next door for those early years
that crept so quietly into me
without even my knowledge
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Rhymes Stop Here
In this world there are two types,
The normal people and the not so normal,
The normal ones are the ones who wear stripes,
Always dressing as they need to be formal.
The not so normal ones,
Act and dress totally nuts,
Some wear dark makeup by the tons,
Some even get the courage or the guts,
To tell you what is right or not.
I stopped rhyming to tell you,
That even though some are different on the outside,
We are all the same on the inside.
Remember this when you sum up the stupid to bully again.
poem by Hannah Eichenauer
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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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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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What do you remember most about Christmas with your family?
Remembering being with family and friends,
I remember giving and sharing and just being their
for one another.I remember the love and the laugh
and the joy we all had together.I remember making
snow angels in the snow every year.Love remebering
the good times with my family even know the ones
are gone now.I know they would want me to remember
all the time we had together.I remember being thankful
to Jesus and saying happy birthday to him every year.
Now all I remember now since some are gone is the
sadness and the heart breaking and the missing.Sadly
remember everyone all not together this year like they
was every year for the holidays.It like something die
with everyone.I remember making cup cakes and pies
every year for Christmas and opening my gifts and
getting the things I wanted and sometimes didn't want
but it was about what you get it was about the giving and
the love and the caring and about Jesus.
poem by Kristina Riggs
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I'd like to say from the beginning that the 12 years I've been coming here, I've met unfailing courtesy and cooperation, courtesy from your people and cooperation from the Ministry of Information.
quote by Peter Arnett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Listen, Just Listen!
years ago...
i worked in a hospital
as a male aide.
and i used to sit
with the elderly,
as they lay dying,
who often had no family
to be there.
and i learned one of
the great truths of life...
listen!
to the stories of living,
to both the pain,
and the joy,
in the voice...
to the hope that
can only be faith...
to the hum of love.
to the defiant heart beating,
to the sound
of the last door opening...
to the sound the hand makes,
when it lets go!
listen, just listen!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Courtesy
Of Courtesy, it is much less
Than Courage of Heart or Holiness,
Yet in my Walks it seems to me
That the Grace of God is in Courtesy.
On Monks I did in Storrington fall,
They took me straight into their Hall;
I saw Three Pictures on a wall,
And Courtesy was in them all.
The first the Annunciation;
The second the Visitation;
The third the Consolation,
Of God that was Our Lady's Son.
The first was of St. Gabriel;
On Wings a-flame from Heaven he fell;
And as he went upon one knee
He shone with Heavenly Courtesy.
Our Lady out of Nazareth rode -
It was Her month of heavy load;
Yet was her face both great and kind,
For Courtesy was in Her Mind.
The third it was our Little Lord,
Whom all the Kings in arms adored;
He was so small you could not see
His large intent of Courtesy.
Our Lord, that was Our Lady's Son,
Go bless you, People, one by one;
My Rhyme is written, my work is done.
poem by Hilaire Belloc
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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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Christmas Eve Presumption
I remember years past at this time
joining with friends sublime
A-caroling we did go from house to house
of those old alone people sitting inside at home
“We’re bringing some holiday cheer to the old shut ins”
I remember the 30ish leader saying with a grin
At one house surrounded by trees we stood at front door
singing loudly song after song with smiles and glee
The house door flew open to reveal a thin elderly man
who waved at us to go away and leave him be
But singing we continued with conviction and fervor
to bring hope and joy to this sad lonely figure
Then the slippered old man stepped out into the snow
and stuffed bills in the pocket of the nearest fellow
And on Christmas eve, this lonely old man yelled
“Get off my property! ”
I guess he was quietly resting, or writing, or enjoying a good read
or maybe watching his favorite Christmas show on TV
poem by William Waterway
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Returning to South Carolina meant getting a normal job in a normal town with normal people and marrying a normal person. I wanted the glamour and opportunity of the world.
quote by Donna Rice
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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At The Boulevard, Dumaguete City
slowly, the gray clouds open
like a door
giving way to the sun
coming in like
a glowing ball of fire
and then i see this old woman
lying on the lap of another
old woman
by the side of the
brick pavement
i can't find a word that is too sad
to describe this reality...
it speaks to me
i am here, do not abandon me
then another voice says
I have not forgotten you
there are lots of people
walking and thinking about their own lives
and not minding
other people's anger.
the sun is too good to be true.
but it is.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Giving Back
this is what i have taken from you
many years ago
and you do not remember
i am now returning it back to you
with an open heart
my hands stretching out
to reach you again
you still wonder what was it
what is this all about
what i am giving back to you
i am giving you back this
empty heart these empty hands
this empty mind this openess
my gaping mouth
my hollow body
you still do not remember
many years ago
you have taken them all from me
and i was wearing that smile
of the willing victim
it is about time that you remember
the sadness that clings like a wilting vine on our fences
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I remember...(How could I forget?)
I remember your skin, 'cause it's perfect when we meet,
I remember your voice, 'cause without it I can't speak,
I remember your noise, as I'm taking you out of your mind
I remember your pressure, as it made me melt into the sublime.
But mostly, I remember you crying and asking me how someone could love a monster,
I remember you threading your hands through my hair pulling my face to you so you could see the fear written,
I remember you telling me that you'd understand if I left.
I remember comforting you as person A, B and C walked away,
I remember calling you, already knowing what you needed to say,
I remember you calling me angel, so where did that go?
I remember everything, even if it wasn't real, so tell me, is that so?
I remember you giving me everything
I remember giving you my all
I remember watching you put me on a pedestal,
I remember watching myself fall.
(January 18,2009)
poem by Deona Skidmore
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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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I Remember
(I Remember) when(I) was just 5 years old when my mom and dad told me story before they died yes(I Remember) (I Remember) how people tried to tell me that(I) would not(Remember) but(I Remember) tell me why(I Remember) tell me why(I Remember) but yes (I Remember) but do you (Remember) how (I) (Remember) BECAUSE I REMEMBER EVERYTHING
poem by Lavion Bell
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10:10 A.M.
10: 10 AM
by Inro Lavil
09-13-12
Woman, Woman
This may be respectful but you held me an extra month
Three blood gushed out before I was beamed by
Sunlight and you were not in a right time to deliver
Woman, why did you love me?
Woman, Woman
I might be adamant but you molded me too early
I might be the biggest fool on this world
And I hated it when you made me intelligent like them
Woman, why did you love me?
Woman, Woman
I might be so selfish but you still treated me normal
I'm not normal since I am an extra month held by you
And everyone looks at me with piercing eyes
Woman, why did you love me?
Woman, Woman
I did my best but you angrily pushed me to be more of me
I wanted to do this and that but your eyes always watched me
Like you're some kind of omniscient being in clouds
Woman, why did you love me?
Woman, Woman
I was not prepared but why did you leave me abruptly?
All these tupperwares around me hid to me your stains
The name of the pain that you have also hidden to me
Woman, why did you betray me?
Woman, Woman
Your loss gave me no Merry Christmas since you left me
I had two graduations you failed to attend and now
The third is coming, when will I hear you're proud of me?
Woman, why did you leave me?
Woman, Woman
I am free to choose my path but yours is still the one
The one I still chose since you're not here, I will
Run the steps you have walked and try to surpass them
Woman, why did you love me?
Woman, Woman
I was waiting for you on the gate every afternoon you came
Now that you are not here, no one is asking me today
'How's your day? ' which I've done when you're still here
Woman, why did you love me?
Woman, Woman
How will I move on from you when the life I chose is yours?
How will I know that you are proud of me or glad
Of all the achievements I got most of which I've done for you?
Woman, why did you love me?
Woman, Woman
I have never understood how much love you have given me
Since 10: 10 AM of April until 11: 10 AM of the 13th day
Of November almost eight years ago, maybe beyond my birth
Woman, why did you love me?
Woman, Woman
I can be considered mature but I still lone for your kiss
I still blame you for things I can't do but still thank
You because you taught me that freedom is not really free
Woman, why did you love me?
Woman, Woman
I call you woman because I want to how show you I'm big now
But I still long to call you Mama, yet
No ears will be a landing place for those words now
Woman, why did you love me?
Woman, how can I return the love you've shown
When you are already inside that concrete box and
Your soul's somewhere far from where I stand now
poem by Inro Lavil
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