How can I be quite happy when…?
I see the beggar on road-side,
Unable to stand and to walk;
Begging for alms from passers-by,
Sitting upon a plank with wheels?
The lunatic so scarcely dressed,
Walking from garbage dump to dump,
Eating the left-overs on leaves,
And chased away by barking dogs?
The school-child works part-time to earn
A pittance for the family’s sake,
As mother cannot manage house,
And father drunk abandoned home?
Unborn children are killed in scores,
And elderly stay neglected,
And heinous crimes keep rising high,
Corruption runs across all ranks?
The poor turn poorer by the day;
The innocent are killed and maimed;
The educated jobless stay,
And country reels from debt-burden?
Copyright by Dr John Celes 3-12-2010
poem by John Celes
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Sonnet- Stark Reality
The garbage-dump, it serves as a cradle!
The female child is left here by the Eves;
Along with dogs, they search ’midst plantain leaves;
The beggar too comes here for his morsel!
The poor children, they search amongst garbage;
With bodies bare and sacks on their shoulders;
They beg too, in the street’s- no one bothers;
The plastic, iron, to sell they manage.
They work in risky jobs for a penny;
And go from pillar to post so many;
Beaten and abused and turned delinquents,
By drunken fathers, their cries, the air rents.
This is the stark reality today!
And children’s lives have not changed anyway.
poem by John Celes
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Who‘s your Neighbor?
The unborn child, your own offspring,
Twisting and turning in your womb,
Dreaming of its life upon earth,
Praying to God for its safe birth!
The babe abandoned near the dumps,
By parents as unwanted child,
Unable to breathe, eat, or sleep,
Bitten by street-dogs, yet not dead!
The child – a bonded laborer,
Having to work for parents’ debts,
Dreaming of better days ahead,
But, left to slog for its life-time!
The brethren forced into vice-dens,
And taught to maim and kill others,
And use substances of abuse,
Whose nights are days, and darkness, light!
The beggar with a begging bowl,
With unkempt hair, half-dressed in rags,
Pleading for anything to eat
Or coins that could buy him a treat!
The rag-picker who scurries forth
Along the road-side searching for
Bits of paper, thrown-away things
That could fetch him money to eat!
The servant boy or girl who works
From dawn till dusk doing house-chores,
And paid a pittance often late,
Abused and chided, punished too!
The widow who struggles to live
With honor in a ruthless world,
Commented for no fault of hers,
Escaping sexual advances.
The battered youth that’s left half-dead,
Pushed off the train by miscreants,
Groaning with pain from broken limbs,
Punished for saving a girl’s honor!
The poor pavement dwellers who sleep
By the road-side, weary from work,
Awaiting death from drunk drivers
On date and time, unknown to them!
And there are many more unknown
Strangers and foes and terrorists –
Misguided ones in devils’ grip:
Pray God should rescue ev’n such souls!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 2-8-2009
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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‘One-child-a-family’ Global Policy?
‘One child a family’ policy
Is good for nations peopled more;
But brings new problems in its wake,
That threatens their home’s happiness!
‘With accidents still mounting high,
And cancers increasingly found,
And none to nurse the growing child,
And none to tend to elderly! ’
Can families stop with single child?
The wise will not decide this way;
The foolish too will realize
That children more, add wealth to homes!
If that was what God intended,
Why gestation is ten months’ time?
Why look down upon every birth –
A miracle by God to man?
And killing unborn babes in womb,
To enforce such a policy
Would mean another blunder made,
And prove man’s heart works ruthlessly!
And if you be a super-mom,
And quintuplets, sextuplets come,
Will you murder the rest but one,
And stay ‘happy’ all through your life?
Have many children as you can;
God gives you freedom to decide;
God will provide your needs to rear;
But never kill the unborn child!
More children means more ‘love-filled’ homes;
Each child is precious gift from God;
Let marriage not mean only sex,
But procreation, just as well!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 1-17-2010
poem by John Celes
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’Tis a Sad, Mad World!
A famished, ill-clad beggar stands
Amidst some barking dogs!
All searching through the garbage-dump
For left-over food, fast;
Each taking turns at emptying,
The things inedible;
Their hunger-pangs can drive them mad;
Will Dame Luck smile on them?
His eyes keep straining just for food,
On plantain-leaves by luck;
The scorching sun can’t bother him,
Nor can the stench within;
His pangs of hunger goads him on
To lick the residue;
His face keeps smiling when he sees,
A morsel of cooked grain!
The dogs are happy biting bones,
Though meat, they never meet;
He’s back to work upon the pile
And sorts the rocks from leaves;
There’s silence excepting the noise
Of scrambling for food found;
The garbage-dump’s a blessed spot,
Where man and beast share food!
poem by John Celes
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If She were my Daughter
I’m a real estate man
In a suburban wasteland
And I’ve opened many doors in my time.
A lifetime of regrets,
But I cannot forget
What she said to me over the line.
“ If I was your daughter, and getting divorced”
What would you tell me to do?
“With two children at home
Abandoned, alone”
Do I sell out or stay? ”
“What to do? ”
Her husband had left her
Pregnant, adrift.
with their five year old son at her side.
Post partum, alone
She’s on the phone
What should I tell her to do.?
The house had a mortgage
Perhaps “under water”
But the debt service-
that she could do.
She had a good job
And in spite of that slob
She was one girl who could see it through.
“ If I was your daughter, and getting divorced”
What would you tell me to do?
“With two children at home
Abandoned, alone”
Do I sell out or stay? ”
“What to do? ”
I told her to stay, there was no other way
After taxes, its cheaper than rent
She would have some hard times
And be house poor besides-
But the schools here are better for them.
Back in the depression,
When things were the worst,
Couples fought hard to stay true..
But it seems nowadays
Nearly one in two strays
And everything’s falling apart.
..
poem by John F. McCullagh
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Mothers’ Day ‘08
North or south; east or west;
A mother’s love is always best!
Throughout its childhood, cleaned and dressed,
A mother gives baby, good rest.
A mother is the love-pillar;
A father is the source of strength;
A child is like caterpillar,
Metamorphosing in its length!
A mother keeps the home happy;
A mother cleans the babe’s nappy;
A mother tends to dear daddy;
A mom-less home cannot be sweet!
The angel in the house is mom!
The toiler of the home is mom;
The cleaner in the house is mom;
She knows all problems but keeps mum!
The chief-cook in the house is mom;
The teacher in the house is mom;
The care-taker is also mom;
She knowingly is sometimes dumb!
A spoilt-kid’s mom had spared the rod;
As children’s friend, mother looks odd;
For most things, mothers give the nod;
A mother is a demi-god!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 5-11-2008
poem by John Celes
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Children's Day in India,2012
Being a child is what all love to be;
And when adult, we know we can never;
Childhood was best and everyone agrees;
But do children have freedom they deserve?
The smaller family norm has done great harm;
The child is neglected right from its birth;
It wallops in its faeces and urine!
It has to study when 'tis age to play!
What selfishness fills hearts of most adults!
They spare no time to watch the bud blossom;
World's children pine for love and yearn for care;
They are denied their rights when still in womb!
The crimes against children are on the rise;
Children are used, abused and not amused;
No nation thrives if children stay enslaved;
Let parents love their children sincerely!
Children are living wealth of nations prime;
Children are priceless gifts from God above;
Children are future parents and leaders;
Children need to be kept healthy, unharmed!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 13-11-12
poem by John Celes
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A Mother
A mother shows the child the world
A mother is its world when small
A mother shows the child what's love
A mother loves her child like a doll!
A mother makes the home and bed
A mother cares for all at home
A mother trains the child to walk
And stand on own, perfectly talk.
A mother is the teacher prime
A mother moulds the character
A mother shows the child to pray
And trust the unseen God all life.
A mother is the child's best friend
A mother knows its needs and wants
A mother cares for child when sick
And feels so proud, when child achieves.
Children, thank God for a good mother
On ‘Mother's day! '
Copyright by Dr John Celes 13-05-12
poem by John Celes
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Who is a beggar and who is not
Take your coin, I am no beggar
In our country
Beggars are less uncommon
They are there anywhere
Except
Cemeteries
Burial ground and
Cremation yard
They beg you so pathetically
That you are forced to dropp a coin
Pavements invariably
Irrespective of the city
House beggars
You can make out them
By the way they look
Women beg
Pointing to us the little child
They carry on their waist
Old ladies too beg
And they station themselves
Against you in your path
Making it difficult for you
To step ahead further
While you are on a wait
Either bus stop
Rail station
Park or beach
Some one or the other appear before you
Begging
Truly speaking
It hurts me to turn away someone
Asking for alms
Without getting them something
Some hold the view
That they need not help beggars
As they are not the one
Who made beggars beg
Begging should be discouraged
And to do that
Beggars should not be helped
Is some others’ view point
I am not quite sure
Whether to help beggars or not
I normally dropp a coin of least denomination
In the begging bowl or in the opened up palms of a beggar
Provided I have the coin
If I do not have a coin to part with
Or if I do not have the mind to help
I muster the strength
To tell the beggar
That I have no changes to spare
This morning
I was rushing to the office
After getting down from the bus
I saw a middle aged male
Who was rolling down on the tar topped road
Sitting on roller-fixed wooden plank
Pushing with the help of has hands
It appeared he had no legs
I decided to help him with a coin
As I got nearer
I came to understand that he was polio affected
Both his legs becoming non functional
Of late, thin and feeble
I ran my hand through my left pant pocket
Got hold of a coin of a better denomination
Than the one I normally prefer to drop
Stood by his side
As he was enjoying a puff of a lighted cigarette
On his lips
He did not lift his face
Having waited for some seconds
I decided to dropp that coin
I did the same
And started going towards office
I heard the rolling of wheels
When I looked back
The person on the wheel-fixed plank
Pointed his right index finger
Towards the dropped coin
About four metres on the backside
And said curtly
Take your coin
I am no beggar
As I reached the spot
And picked up the coin
I felt too small of me
And in fact, beg for the knowledge
As to know
Who is a beggar and who is not
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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Sonnet: All Things on Earth Have a Natural Place
Each thing on earth must be, where it should be;
Ectopic makes it weird and dangerous;
A lion ought to be in forest free!
It cannot do whatev’r a house-cat does!
A cage is not the place for bird or beast;
A cell is not the home for any man;
One’s freedom should not be curbed in the least;
An animal that’s caged has less life-span!
A garden-rose must grow in gardens good;
It should not stand amidst the grasses wild;
The forest is the place for cedar-wood;
A garbage-dump is cruel for a child!
The place aright for family is house;
The place ideal is home for any spouse!
poem by John Celes
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Globe in Chaos (A Kyrielle)
The righteous stay in immense gloom;
More evil minds are seen to bloom!
The modern world has gone more gay;
Usher a new earth, God, I pray.
More heinous crimes reach ears and eyes;
The innocent, victims of vice;
More souls from God have gone astray;
Usher a new earth, God, I pray.
The kinds of sins have grown galore;
The shame is less though hearts are sore;
More devils roam the world each day;
Usher a new earth, God, I pray.
A world of lucre has surfaced;
The young and old keep all amazed;
Yet, God is not their Light and way;
Usher a new earth, God, I pray.
More gadgets rule most fields these days;
More people walk with masked a face;
For sins, all men must surely pay;
Usher a new earth, God, I pray.
Ethics and morals seem all dead;
More children stay abused, misled;
God’s codes are broken every day;
Usher a new earth, God, I pray.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 16-06-2010
poem by John Celes
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Sonnet- The World Of Ignominy
The farmer works back-bent in scorching Sun;
The house-maid mops the floor all on her knees;
The beggar feeds his child with tea and bun;
The driver lives with H.I.V. disease.
And children work ill-paid, most dangerously;
The circus girls are meant for ogling men;
Unemployed youth, literate, walks aimlessly;
And bullets speak better than writ by pen.
The 'battered-wife' curses her wedding-day;
Work harassment goads husbands take liquor;
The child gets neglected in every way;
There ain't limits to commit crimes or err.
The richer nations threaten poorer ones;
And peace is ushered by the pow'r of guns.
poem by John Celes
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‘I’m Anna! ’ - Movement: Poem on Corruption in India
The poor become poorer each day
The rich turn richer every way
Corruption is the cause that may
Prevent a nation’s progress, Aye!
Corruption rules the world in ways
Indiscernible yet, always;
The common man’s heart, mind and face
Reveals the menace in each case
Corruption wears so many masks;
The corrupt in lucre’s sun basks;
All accept it and no one asks,
‘Why burden-some turn daily tasks? ’
Corruption has gone too rampant;
It runs amok like an elephant;
The poor man’s life is like an ant;
Mass rallies slogans only chant.
The war to curb corruption’s on;
Good youth in India have been born;
The people get gleanings of corn,
While sheaves in rich men’s homes adorn.
Corruption’s the cause of price-rise;
Share-markets play a game like dice;
Taxes have grown mammoth in size;
A tax-payer ashamed then dies.
Which leader will then stem this rot?
– Democracy is badly caught;
The fight must be much bravely fought
Till freedom after Freedom’s got!
Dedicated to ‘ I’m Anna! ’ movement hero in India
Shri. Anna Hazare
Copyright by Dr John Celes 21-08-11
poem by John Celes
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Three children
Three little children.
One with a home.
One sitting on a thrown.
The last child only skin and bones.
One child lives happily with his family.
One child sits alone; his family won’t spare the time
The last child watches his mother die.
One child has a few new toys.
One child has the best toys anyone can imagine.
The last child plays with sticks and stones.
One child attends public school.
One child stays home and studies alone.
The last child has to cook and has never opened a book.
The children become men.
One man is off to war.
One man is sitting behind a jail door.
The last man is very far from poor.
poem by Yvette Carbajal
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Father's Day,2012
O thank your dad for what you are today!
In life, a pivotal role, he does play;
‘His contribution is priceless, ' let's say;
Like mother, father gives bliss anyway!
A father's place, no person else can take;
A father's love is of a special make;
He toils unceasingly for family's sake;
He tells the members what is called as fake!
A fatherless child becomes unruly;
A child with father lives so casually;
With father gone, life can turn cruelly;
A father gives all, joy in family!
Respect your father for his weighs in gold;
He teaches you to be righteous and bold;
He is a fountain of wisdom when old;
His sacrifices most, remain untold!
So, wish your father on this special day;
Do greet him, hug him, kiss him anyway;
A father means a lot in life some way;
Return his love is some form, come what may!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 12-06-12
poem by John Celes
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Dignity of Human Life
A bunch of leaves upon a guava tree,
Remained non-growing, ever since its birth,
Without producing flowers, fruits or seeds –
Result from environs or its own genes!
A rare phenomenon my eyes could see;
A sad situation for a branch to be,
Reminding of freak babies born, may be,
A fault of Nature or its parents, see!
To hear of babies in millions unborn,
And killed by parents while within the womb,
Is sadder still and gruesome holocaust,
That’s happening today in modern world!
Oh, what a shameful society, we are,
To kill our healthy children God-given!
And live as ‘gay’ to do unnatural sex,
And satisfy a lust that is big sin.
No living God can bear such heinous crimes,
And see the lives He permitted, destroyed;
Accursed are human beings, leaders who
Deny the dignity of human life!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 4-6-2009
poem by John Celes
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Man, Thou Shalt Not Kill!
Each human child by God is made
In His image own, with love, care;
To take a life is God-forbade,
No human being shall then dare!
Each human child is called by name,
While growing in the womb by God;
To murder is a sin and shame
Inviting Maker’s just rod!
The law of lands may change with time,
But lives God-made must stay untouched;
To kill is both a sin and crime,
And cannot be ignored or hushed!
The curse of God shall be upon
The man/ woman who kill the child;
The pleas of revenge of unborn
Will bring a punishment, not mild!
To urge someone to kill is just
The work of Satan with much plan;
Such human beings are accursed:
Let all know this – man or woman!
So, spare the life within the womb;
Let every life see world God-made;
The place of birth can’t turn a tomb;
Without blooming, no bud may fade!
‘Abortion is a mortal sin and heinous crime! ’
Copyright by Dr John Celes 2-16-2010
poem by John Celes
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This crazy country
I’m in this crazy country
If I could leave I would go tomorrow never to return
Oh Allah how can I go
From this crazy country
When I do what I do for the sake of Allah
My 1st Daughter
The strong & the brave
She was physically & emotionally abused
Some years ago
Taken from me brought up by another
No one knows why
But
Daughter no.2
She was allowed to stay
To be abused
Physically, emotionally & attempted sexually
With emotional problems
No fear of danger
Her father still free
To abuse another
1son & twin daughters the pain still goes on
He is still free
As free as can be
Daughter no 2 went to a special school
She learned to survive
Not wanting to become a woman
She was ready to come home
Her room was made nice
The sisters helped to decorate
Ready for her return
You made new friends
In your white community
They told you that you are British
Me myself I’m not proud to be half British
I’m ashamed you see at what they do to my family
I am a Muslim from Islam
That’s what maters to me
What happened to what I taught you to believe.
You come from a multi-cultural family
You decided to stay
Not come home how can this be
My child needs her mom
I’m told the law gives her the right to choose in this country
So you god fearing mom’s beware when your child goes to school
In this crazy country
As children suffer & even die
There parents free
Free as can be
Then there is my son child no.3
Taken from me
He is with his father you see
In this crazy country
My son runs to be with me
Now he needs therapy
Just for wanting me
I am a God fearing mom doing all I can for my family
In this crazy country
As I see with my eyes
Hear with my ears
What you do to my Brothers & Sisters in this country
I want to leave & go some place where I can be free
As free as can be
To give my all to people who need me
Oh Allah how can I leave this crazy country
When I do what I do for the sake of Allah
To be there for my family
People try to bring me down for I’m a God fearing mom
Before I go
Leave this crazy country
Remember this
You might be free as free as can be
In this crazy country
But when judgment day comes
Who will be free
As free as can be
Will it be you
Or will it be me?
poem by mariam khan Farah Abdulahi
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I Am.... (The Branch, Part Two)
i am...
the orphaned child and the abandoned dog,
the woman raped, the young man killed.
i am the body hanging alone and cold,
the old woman shaking in an empty room.
i am the young girl taken and enslaved,
the needle, the spoon, and the revolver.
i am black skinned, brown skinned anger,
and the bones of bodies hidden...
the speaker of truth detained and tortured,
the invisible trail left behind.
i am...
the rage of jobless, homeless, hopeless...
the unemployment line and the sweat shop.
i am the family living in a stolen car,
and the child who runs away.
i am the store clerk killed by the robber,
her minimum wage death unnoticed.
i am the shadow crossing the border,
the inmate that breaks and runs.
i am the guns silenced,
and the lies revealed...
i am human rebellion.
i am the branch covered by leaves,
waiting for certain autumn!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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A Tribute to Mothers on ‘Mothers’ Day ‘09’
A mother keeps the human race going!
She gives the kid(s) the important training;
She does the baby’s cleaning and nursing;
She tends to children’s bathing and cleaning.
A mother is the crux in kid(s) growing!
And children into adults keep turning;
She does the child’s dressing and nail-paring;
She sings the songs when child goes off sleeping!
A mother keeps the home and does cooking;
About the children all, she keeps thinking;
Most days, she does the chores and dish-washing;
She hardly gets some time for own sleeping!
A mother loves to work and keep slogging!
Sometimes, in vain for help, she keeps begging;
Some modern moms take to even blogging;
A few spend much time at husbands, nagging!
A mother knows the art of good loving!
Some are good in punning, joking, rhyming;
A mother teaches kids at fine writing;
She spends the night in ‘about all’, dreaming!
A mother soul is fixed to kid(s) rearing!
To problems all, she gives a good hearing;
Nothing amiss can escape her seeing;
At times, she gives the kid(s) a good beating!
A mother tells kid(s) to be God-fearing!
Some mothers can be bold and ev’n daring;
Some mothers can’t stay without arguing;
Good mothers believe in giving / sharing!
A mother is a great human being!
When someone leaves, she keeps her hand(s) waving;
For love sometimes, some mothers keep craving;
The world somehow keeps most mothers crying!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 5-13-2009
poem by John Celes
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