Futile Ways of Man
I fling the dirt, onto the ground
Near-by my house, heaped like a mound;
And then the wind with fury blows;
From whence, it came, the dirt back goes! ,
I take the cob-webs off the wall;
Some spiders escape by their fall;
They form the cob-webs once again,
With speeds that can turn one insane!
I sprinkled ant-powder one day;
All ants have vanished for just now;
I see them come another way,
To eat the spilt sugary dough!
I spray insecticide to kill
The cock-roaches that run freely;
A few are dead after the drill;
The rest return some day surely!
Some centipedes enter strangely
Into a house that’s kept so clean;
I know they can cause allergy!
Such creatures mean, I’ve never seen!
The ways of man are just futile;
Most acts on earth are wasteful ones;
We wear a mask and yet can smile;
Our labor goes awaste in tons!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 4-12-2007
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
All I Need From You Is That You Clean Me, Mama
you lay a mat on the floor
for you to understand dirt and its implications its complications
to the wall
or to the center table and to the rest of the parts of your house,
dirt must be eradicated, that is your rule number one,
so you put lots of mats and rugs, doormats, floormats,
in every door in every corner of the floor
all dirts are not welcome,
it is as though you have studied dirt at length for years,
what is dirt? what are the kinds of dirt? the causes of dirt?
the consequences of dirt? the historical background of dirt,
and your recommendations finally about
dirt
its control and eradication,
you have talked about dirt and how you disliked it,
how you have driven dirt away from this house
how you called they police when dirt resisted to leave
and of course they all were arrested and jailed
without bond
the judge convicted dirt on the basis of those dirty exhibits
and dirty testimonial evidence,
dirt must be poisoned by lethal injection, hanged, electrocuted,
to make them disappear forever
that is your firm belief
your solid conviction
the sound philosophy of
your society
you are talking to me, and i will now tell you who am i really,
my name, the place where i live, my family and how i am related to you,
mother, i am dirt, my name is dirty, my family is dirty,
i live in a dirty place, i am your son,
i cannot step on your doormat, immediately i must leave now
you will report me to the police and i will be arrested
and jailed and even be hanged dead,
all i need is only that you clean me, mama.
now, please........
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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At Last, the Lime-Tree Bears Fruits!
A lime sapling I found grew up in wild,
In ten years’ time to be a tree quite big;
For long it stayed dwarf-like: refused to grow,
As caterpillars ate its verdure leaves.
And not a flower or a fruit it bore!
Insects built nests and spiders spun cob-webs;
Its roots stood ’midst gravel and rocky mud;
Red-ants made home till ant-powder was put.
How sad it was to see the lime-tree’s fate!
The rain and sun nurtured it despite odds;
And one day when I stared at her foliage,
Amazed I’as to see it covered by fruits!
There is a time for everything on earth;
‘There is a season for all things, ’ God says;
The keys to success- patience and strong faith;
God will decide when all things fruition best.
One never knows when God uses someone;
One never knows when God does miracles;
One never should look down upon others;
God has a plan for everything He makes!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 4-11-2006
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Warrior Red-Ants
I crushed some warrior-ants to death,
And wondered what, others would do;
And very promptly, came more ants
To investigate scene of crime!
These ants build nests upon the trees,
By gluing leaves with strange substance;
Their nests look like army barracks,
With sentry-ants guarding smartly!
The dead ants lay all strewn about;
A few of them were moving still;
And very soon, they too lay dead,
Like soldiers killed in battle-field!
The scout ants went from ant to ant,
Perhaps in search of ones alive;
Some went back fast to convey news
About the tragedy they saw!
And very soon, arrived more ants
To check if dead were truly dead;
Somehow, these ants smelt death itself;
They did it so effortlessly!
Each one of them lifted the dead,
By proboscis and sped back home;
Each ant with carcass upon mouth,
Ran back as fast as legs carried.
And in a trice, the dead were cleared;
The scene of crime was clean by now;
The work was finished in moments;
Yes, ants are truly busiest!
Oh, what respect ants show their dead!
How fast they rescue comrades hurt!
They proved they respected their dead;
Do human beings do like-wise?
Copyright by Dr John Celes 5-15-2008
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Whatev’r Did I Get in Return?
I climbed the roof, replacing broken tiles
And many times I’d slipped;
I went to stores by walking many miles,
But I couldn’t be tight-lipped.
I dug the water channels for the trees,
And swept the ground so clean;
I prayed to God to maintain our home’s peace,
So cruel life had been!
I climbed the trees and plucked mangos, drum-sticks;
And put the fences up;
I paved the floors and built the walls with bricks
Life gave a bitter cup!
I washed the clothes, pots, pans and cleaned cob-webs,
And performed house-hold chores;
But never could prevent the way life ebbs,
I painted windows, doors.
So many things I’d done in my childhood
Whatev’r did I get in return?
And now I slog for my family’s good,
I continue to learn.
But this is how we spend our wretched life,
On earth since we’ve been born;
Alone we must be in joy, grief and strife,
Our earthly life’s forlorn.
And yet, our childhood life was good,
Despite all heavy odds;
And cooking was by fire-wood,
We got both love and rods.
And yet I loved the yesterday,
God showed me my own way;
And how I hate each new birthday,
Live, we must, come what may.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 22-1-2007
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Leader’s Sad Demise
A former PM was banished;
The charm of the land has vanished;
A valiant leader is no more;
The hearts of many are quite sore.
One selfish man denies the rest,
Democracy that is the best
For Pakistan, India’s neighbor;
People shouldn’t give up their labor!
A glorious lady’s soul is lost;
No money can equal her cost;
Who will don her mantle from now?
There is no answer right now, oh!
Can elections be held now fair?
The stench of blasts is in the air;
God knows if ’tis a bane or boon;
God grant the people calmness soon.
May God grant her Eternal Rest!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 12-28-2007
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet: The New Year 2007
The old year’s gone! The new one has begun!
The world’s most precious need is global peace.
’Tis better nations abandon the gun;
Let suspicions and rivalries all cease!
This earth is one and mankind is one race!
No one can live all independent days;
It does not matter what color or face;
Align must man with Nature in God’s ways.
The earth can’t bear pollution anymore;
Our labor hard will give victory with time;
No nation must to neighbors turn eyesore;
“Preserve the environ’s”- our duty prime.
No nation has the right to stifle next;
Let God’s Commandments serve as guiding text.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 12-30-2007
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To An Ex....
what we told them that we did
was all those games of catching spiders
rested in their spun webs on the trees
beside the mountain river
we we really did they knew so well
but how can we ever ever tell?
that what they knew was not all that happened
as it was something else more that what spiders are
on their transparent
webs of illusions upon those trees
that in the first place
never existed
what we had were more than words
and thoughts
and so how can we ever tell ourselves
truly
that we have already forgotten?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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‘To the Slaughter-house’- A Cattle-song!
To the slaughter-house! To the slaughter-house!
Here we cows all go;
We gave men milk and butter, ghee;
They want our beef now;
We’ve no other go.
To the slaughter-house! To the slaughter-house!
Here we oxen go;
We tilled their lands and milled oil-seeds;
They want our hide now;
We’ve no other go.
To the slaughter-house! To the slaughter-house!
Here we sheep all go;
We grazed their meadows, eating grass;
They want our mutton now;
We’ve no other go.
To the slaughter-house! To the slaughter-house!
Here we cattle go;
We served mankind as God said so;
Selfish men want our flesh now;
We’ve no other go.
To the slaughter-house! To the slaughter-house!
Here we animals go;
Jostled, huddled, unfed, crowded;
Men want our lives now;
This is our last ride, we all know;
We’ve no other go.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 1-20-2008
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Where I Try, To Grow...
I eat the dirt, it taste like dirt
it is not the dirt, i profess it is.
It is not the sun, it is a smile
it helps me realize, it is not.
I smile my broken smile, one
more crack, my face falls off.
The sink, is full, my mask, falls
washed in my tears, i smile.
poem by Is It Poetry
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Get Out Of My House
(hee-haw! hee-haw! hee-haw!)
When you left, the door was
(slamming!)
You paused in the doorway
(slamming!)
As though a thought stole you away.
(slamming!)
I watched the world pull you away.
(lock it!)
So I run into the hall,
(lock it!)
Into the corridor.
(lock it!)
Theres a door in the house
(slamming).
I hear the lift descending.
(slamming!)
I hear it hit the landing,
(slamming!)
See the hackles on the cat
(standing).
With my key i
(lock it).
With my key i
(lock it up).
With my key i
(lock it).
With my key i
(lock it up).
I am the concierge chez-moi, honey.
Wont letcha in for love, nor money.
(let me in!)
My home, my joy.
Im barred and bolted and i
(wont let you in).
(get out of my house!)
No strangers feet
Will enter me.
(get out of my house!)
I wash the panes,
(get out of my house!)
I clean the stains away.
(get out of my house!)
This house is as old as I am.
(slamming.)
This house knows all I have done.
(slamming.)
They come with their weather hanging round them,
(slamming.)
But cant knock my door down!
(slamming.)
With my key i
(lock it).
With my key i
(lock it).
This house is full of m-m-my mess.
(slamming.)
This house is full of m-m-mistakes.
(slamming.)
This house is full of m-m-madness.
(slamming.)
This house is full of, full of, full of fight!
(slam it.)
With my keeper i
(clean up).
With my keeper i
(clean it all up).
With my keeper i
(clean up).
With my keeper i
(clean it all up).
I am the concierge chez-moi, honey.
Wont letcha in for love, nor money.
(its cold out here!)
My home, my joy.
Im barred and bolted and i
(get out of my house!)
(wont let you in).
(get out of my house!)
No strangers feet
(get out of my house!)
Will enter me.
(get out of my house!)
I wash the panes.
(get out of my house!)
I clean the stains.
(get out of my house!)
(get out of my house!)
(get out of my house!)
(get out of my house!)
Wont enter me.
(get out of my house!)
(get out of my house!)
(get out of my house!)
(get out of my house!)
Yeah! wont let you in!
(get out of my house!)
(get out of my house!)
Let me in!
Woman let me in!
Let me bring in the memories!
Woman let me in!
Let me bring in the devil dreams!
I will not let you in!
Dont you bring back the reveries.
I turn into a bird,
Carry further than the word is heard.
Woman let me in!
I turn into the wind.
I blow you a cold kiss,
Stronger than the songs hit.
I will not let you in.
I face towards the wind.
I change into the mule.
I change into the mule.
Hee-haw! hee-haw! hee-haw-hee-haw-hee-haw-hee-haw...
Hee-haw! hee-haw! hee-haw!
song performed by by Kate Bush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Traveling Wind
I feel a breeze of wind
It is as soft as a baby
It travels along the land
It comforts the grass that beetles, ants, and grasshoppers make their way through
Ants continue to make their home that is only but dirt to humans
Dirt to ants is a brick to build a home
The breeze of wind continues to travel
The black and orange bird looks for food
It chirps around
It pecks in the grass
The bird finally travels away along with the wind
All is quiet but the crying of the leaves that are sticking out of the ground
Their hands, which are thorns, are reaching out to be comforted
The traveling wind goes and comforts them
Th wind travels elsewhere
poem by Pamela Mote
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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God cares for all Creatures
The guava sapling planted has grown big;
The tree is laden with ripe fruits many;
How many can I pluck or eat each day?
Lie fruits unseen at heights, I cannot reach.
I see the parrots enjoy tasty fruits;
I see the squirrels gnaw the fine ripe ones;
I see bats with voracious appetites;
And many more fall down by force of winds.
God fills the tree with fruits for each season;
Man cannot eat all fruits the tree can bear;
God feeds each bird of the air with care;
He made them all and that’s the chief reason.
When God can feed His other creatures well,
So many human beings starve to death;
Oh, what a man-made tragedy, we see,
As tons of food goes rotten every day!
God loves all human beings even more
Than all His other creatures whom He made;
Both food and drink turn scarce by acts of men;
Why blame God for our misdemeanor, then?
Copyright by Dr John Celes 4-3-2008
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The House
For many years, the house
stood empty and forlorn.
The windows had been boarded
preventing the sunlight coming in.
No welcoming mat lay by the door;
laughter was a thing of the past
as spiders spun their webs
within the gloomy silence.
The house stood empty
abandoned by most living things
and there were those who said
spooky goings on went on
after night fell in there.
No one could prove it
because no one would stay there.
Only the fool hardy
would ever enter after dark.
The paintwork pealed
and the front door creaked
if someone dared to open it.
They say the house is haunted,
but no one knew
by what or who.
The house began to crumble
as each season came to pass.
The glory of its birth
lay somewhere in the past
and now the crumbling walls
would never reveal
any of the secrets that it knew.
Then a fire started
by a hand unseen
and the house finally died
within its own funeral pyre
15 March 2011
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Ballerina
I twist and turn;
I fly so high;
With grace and poise;
Balance in dance!
I wear toe- shoes;
I’m on my toes;
I fling my arms
And legs in charms.
I leap off ground!
The world’s dumb-found;
Stretching my limbs,
More than they go.
I’m dressed in white;
I’m strong and light;
Earth’s gravity
Frightens me not.
I dropp to earth,
Akin snow-flakes;
How feathers do,
And autumn leaves.
I keep my weight;
I love my fate;
I use the Barre;
I am a star.
With mind-control
I move each part;
I bend and curl,
And twirl and dart.
I spin top-like;
I sing in mike;
I’m famous now;
To me, all bow.
I love my stance,
The elegance,
The style of dance,
And circumstance.
But I am not
A butterfly!
I dance to tune,
Stop in mid-air!
I’ve trained for years;
I’ve shunned my fears;
I’ve learnt the craft;
’Tis now an art!
I love my exercises;
I like my enterprises;
I am a ballerina now;
I am a ballerina, Wow!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 12-27-2007
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Never Empty
Do you ever muse what houses do
while you're at work, the kids at school,
how the traffic roars as it rolls on by
and the telephone rings with no reply.
The refrigerator sings its refrigerator tune
and the gas man calls in the afternoon.
How rain pours through that hole in the roof
and the ants infest all the children's shoes.
Have you ever thought on that dear folk,
when you're out all day and the front door's locked.
When the spiders dance and crickets chirp
with their clod hopper feet on the skirting boards,
making merriment while you're away,
assuming the house is empty all day.
Have you ever looked under old floor boards
where the mice all run when the cat's at play
and the spiders return at the break of day.
Only the house knows what goes on,
only its walls see the spiders run
and the crickets dance and the mice at play,
only the house when you're all away
except for the clock on the kitchen wall
with its heart ever beating the time of day.
poem by Ruth Walters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Abortion- Heaven gone amiss?
God gave women a pelvic bag,
‘The uterus’ or Womb!
And tethered it well, not to sag-
To rear children aplomb;
The growth of fetus should not lag,
And turn the womb, its tomb!
And neither should one abort it,
Thinking it is unfit!
The God of life gave some creatures,
The uterus or womb;
He gives the ‘seed’ life, and nurtures,
Some make the womb, a tomb!
No God of life can accept fault
Of a sinful human soul;
Most babies ought to pass the vault:
To be born- their one goal.
Some bring the babe out by ‘Caesar, ’
-a cut in uterus:
On dates and times, in their leisure,
Sans labor-pains or fuss!
Some others kill the unborn child,
Because they don’t want it;
Will rod of God for them be mild,
Or will it be ‘Fire-pit’?
‘Abortion is sure murder foul’-
No one dare deny this;
All god-believers surely scowl
For, Heaven’s gone amiss?
Can not the modern man, woman
Just understand this truth?
None can escape the Maker’s pan:
‘He’ll take a tooth for tooth! ’
Copyright by Dr John Celes 4-9-2008
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The World Needs Peace, Not Through Wars!
What loss of lives and destruction!
Can lives all lost ever return?
How many more will have to die?
Can one man’s death bring back lives lost?
What pollution, a war can add!
Let Cats who declare wars on mice,
Take the blame and pay the price!
War is a gambling game like dice;
War is a futile exercise.
One cannot fight wars with mere knives;
War is a waste of human lives;
Alas, will nations realize
That keeping peace is always wise?
Wars can begin without a cause;
The world can’t have a single boss!
One nation can’t stifle the rest,
Or try to be always the best.
The world body must give OK!
The world must say to wars, all ‘nay’;
For lasting peace, war isn’t the way!
The cost of wars, who will repay?
The world must find out other ways,
Avoiding wars in future days;
Each nation must unmask its face,
And set on peace, its gaze always!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 1-1-2007
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet: God Can’t Be Duped
Although I laugh within my heart, I cry;
Although I smile within myself, I’m sad;
Although I sin, avoiding it I try;
Although I’m sound, sometimes I feel, I’m mad.
Some actors make expressions of all kind;
Some wear a mask to dupe the beholder;
The face for all is mirror of the mind,
Becoming wrinkled, mask-like when older.
How long can you thus cheat the world this way?
Experienced men discern the false from true;
Such tricks cannot protect you every day;
There are so many ways to get a cue!
Yet, none can dupe the Maker of your heart!
He knows too well, all creatures and their art.
8-30-2002
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet: Moon
O Moon of immense golden splendor light –
The Nature’s lantern hung up in dark sky!
Sun-lit celestial body, ‘Queen of the night’!
A source of joy for eyes which gaze up high!
The earth looks gorgeous illumined by you;
Your mighty beams reach every darkened lane;
A trillion watts of light bestowed is true,
As earthlings spend night-hours in joyous plane!
You share the sun-light falling upon thee,
And nocturnal creatures turn ecstatic;
Oh, what a glorious, wondrous charity!
You play a game of ‘hide-and-seek’ static!
If not for thee, night-time would turn awaste,
And dusk must fetch the dawn each day in haste?
Copyright by Dr John Celes 07-10-10
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cleaning Lady
She knows where the dirt settles
She knows how to clean
She knows how to wet the floor
And polish it to shine
Power of the vacuum
And reach of the broom
She knows her business
A true professional.
In chaos I see order
I know how the world moves,
Dynamics of dirt
And way things rust
Are hard for me to handle
All in a timely way.
At her hands
The faucets sparkle
Her touch turns
House to home
A smile will then
Light up the face.
poem by Tirupathi Chandrupatla
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