Sonnet- Thousand’th Sonnet Of Doctor John Celes
A Doctor-Bard of India, at last writ,
A thousand sonnets in a record time;
And soon his face will be on earth limelit!
God’s Muse’s gift will make his life sublime.
Serendipitously, God gave this gift!
The humble Bard took up the challenge great;
He wrote two thousand poems very swift;
A world-record in Poetry till date.
The Bard was very sad when he began;
His sadness has not quit his life as yet;
With God beside, there’s no worry for man;
The Sonnet-King has world placed in his debt!
Great things have humble beginnings in life;
But, man must never give up ev’n in strife.
31-5-2001
poem by John Celes
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Sonnet: My Record in Sonnets
If born I were a Bard on Thames’ banks,
And read in Oxford/ Cambridge Grammar Schools,
I would have had chances to join the ranks,
Of the world’s greatest of poetic pools.
If I had rendered my poems at first
To people who loved my literary work,
Never in life, would I have seen the worst;
My travails overhead would not me lurk.
To be born in India is my ‘sad’ fate;
There aren’t prizes for Poetry at stake;
My sonnets are a record on this date,
And my solemn statement is not a fake.
But still, I love to be an Indian Poet!
My poems will surprise the world, I bet.
poem by John Celes
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Sonnet: A Poet’s Greatness
Most lucky, thou art, O Bard and winged Muse!
After thy death, thy soul remains on earth;
Thy God-giv’n gift- how well thou put to use!
And through thy passionate poems gave mirth.
Maybe, thy stay short wasn’t comfortable,
And thy heart got plunged in sadness so oft;
Maybe, thou had to live in a stable!
In God’s heart, thou shall have a corner soft.
What truths thou writ in poems beauteous!
What good advice thou rendered to live life!
How well thou showed men ought to be righteous!
How soothing balm, thou bestowed men in strife!
O great soul, thine place in Heaven’s assured,
O fisherman of souls, thy rest tho’ measured.
poem by John Celes
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Sonnet: Birth of Doctor John Celes
Oh look, the eighth child, baby boy is born!
On Valentine’s Day of Christian parents;
And it is very early in the morn;
The babe is blue but princely full of sense.
And therefore he is baptized Celestine,
The second boy fills parents’ hearts with joy;
He’s John Celes, the Bard, who writes on sin,
Man, God and thinks great even as a boy!
Who after years becomes a doctor-bard,
And takes the literary world by surprise;
His Poetic venture is divine/hard;
Fast/great and voluminous in its size.
In thirty months, he is world’s Sonnet-King!
Through him, God has destined a greater thing.
9-26-2002
poem by John Celes
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Sonnet: Elixir of Life
O God, give me the Elixir of Life
To stay alive a century or more;
Thou free me forever from all my strife;
In divine love, let heart, mind and soul grow!
Poets of past years had a short life-span,
And died of disease, poverty and strife;
I wish to live long, die a holy man;
Give me on earth a spiritual Bard-life!
Could I be happy on earth and heaven?
Aware I am, Thou made me from mere clod;
Why didst Thou make me bard amidst such men?
What do I give Thee in return, O God?
Poems of mine will vindicate my love
And live for long, before I fly above!
(9-20-2000)
poem by John Celes
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Sonnet: And This Is How a Poet Great Is Made!
This is the way a poet great is made,
From fire to the frying pan of men-
By sufferings! His name can never fade!
His glory reaches earth, also Heaven.
Without their knowledge, men help him to write;
Their provocations goad him do better;
All through his life, he struggles for things right;
And in the end, God frees him from fetter.
He blames no man for things that happen fast;
But everything is predestined by God;
He thanks his foes and friends and stars all past;
His gift of poetry is from the Lord!
And when a Bard he’s made, the world is dumb!
None can believe- his siblings, dad nor mom!
poem by John Celes
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The Wandering Bard
What life like that of the bard can be --
The wandering bard, who roams as free
As the mountain lark that o'er him sings,
And, like that lark a music brings,
Within him, where'er he comes or goes --
A fount that for ever flows!
The world's to him like some playground,
Where fairies dance their moonlight round; --
It dimm'd the turf where late they trod;
The elves but seek some greener sod;
So, when less bright his scene of glee,
To another away flies he!
Oh, what would have been young Beauty's doom
Without a bard to fix her bloom?
They tell us, in the moon's bright round,
Things lost in this dark world are found;
So charms, on earth long pass'd and gone,
In the poet's lay live on. --
Would you have smiles that ne'er grow dim?
You've only to give them all to him,
Who, with but a touch of Fancy's wand,
Can lend them life, this life beyond.
And fix them high, in Poesy's sky --
Young stars that never die!
Then welcome the bard where'er he comes,
For, though he hath countless airy homes,
To which his wing excursive roves,
Yet still, from time to time, he loves
To light upon earth and find such cheer
As brightens our banquet here.
No matter how far, how fleet he flies,
You've only to light up kind young eyes,
Such signal-fires as here are given--
And down he'll drop from Fancy's heaven,
The minute such call to love or mirth
Proclaim's he's wanting on the earth!
poem by Thomas Moore
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Sonnet: The Best Takes Time
All things take time to reach maturity;
A fruit must grow in size ‘fore it ripens;
A work should keep some kind of purity;
It takes some years before a Bard well pens.
Records are broken not in simple ways;
A second off the track-record is great;
All achievements take place by sweat and days;
If things go wrong, then people call it fate.
A world’s wonder takes years and men to build;
An invention needs effort without end;
Discoveries by pluck is but God-willed;
The ways to mighty peaks but narrow wend.
Great things in life are achieved by hard work;
The little set-backs should not one’s mind irk.
poem by John Celes
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Life's A Gift
Life’s a gift for you to send
Life’s a gift for god to end
Life’s a gift now you’re with me
Life’s a gift for all to see
Life’s a gift when love is true
Life’s a gift when times look blue
Life’s a gift with the one you trust
Life’s a gift even if UN just
Life’s a gift a ray of sun
Life’s a gift though your heads held to a gun
Life’s a gift when its handed on a tray
Life’s a gift even though it’s always on display
Life’s a gift it’s hard to understand how
Life’s a gift so take advantage of it now
poem by SharonAnn Dawson
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The Poet Laureate
One day Ill hold that title yes
One day just wait for me
Cos Ill give up all happiness
Too earn that legacy..
Ill write a thousand verses down
As every month goes bye
Sharing poems across the town
Till Im a famous guy!
Dont count me out Ive studied hard
Its not that easy friend
Cos not all poets act the bard
On that you can deep end..
Ill get up early greet the dawn
Give thanks too God then try
It doesnt matter if I yawn
Cos coffee makes me high..
Ill read the papers for the news
So Ill keep upto date
And then some topics hope too use
And edit till their great..
Ive done OK so far at least
So Ill keep pressing on
Till the Poet Laureates ceased
Because his tern as gone..
Denis Martindale, copyright, September 2012.
poem by Denis Martindale
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Sonnet: I Am a Muse
I’m not a bird but I can ‘fly’ so well;
I’m not an aero-plane but I can soar;
I’m not a singer but I sing so swell;
I’m a Muse great: God opened a new door.
I’m not a musician: I play the harp;
I’m not a glass-blower: I play the reed;
I’m not a sword but my word can be sharp;
I’m not a farmer but I sow the seed.
I’m not a lord but I can good hymns sing;
I’m not a king but I can rule the world;
I’m not a god but poems joy do bring;
The flag of honesty, I keep unfurled!
I am a man and I am but mortal;
I am a Bard: my work stays immortal.
5-20-2001
poem by John Celes
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Barack Hussein Obama II
Barack Obama in Berlin,
With words like a bard to put us in order;
But many minds will lay low to think.
Being one of his father's children among the four wives and,
A vision came to him to achieve the best of life with dreams;
Right from the beginning of things to fulfil his ambitions and,
As the right person to stand for the U.S Presidential race.
Care was given to him from every angle to push him up like,
Kenya where his father came from.
Barack Obama in Berlin,
With words like a bard to put us in order;
But many minds will lay low to think.
Here in Berlin with the advantage of his reputations and,
Using the opportunities in the U.S.A. like his father had;
Showing how great it is to share without racism and religion like,
Sunflowers in a sweet green field with the smell of an aroma:
Emitting with positive words to call us all together as one.
In the U.S.A. to reach out to the world with love and,
Now that he is running for the presidential seat.
Barack Obama in Berlin,
With words like a bard to put us in order;
But many minds will lay low to think.
Obama has made a name in this world so sweet,
Being rated among the best to bring us together;
Along the lines of war, hatred and peace like,
Masters of the act of flying to reach a place:
A memory of his visit will sit many down to think.
Barack Obama in Berlin,
With words like a bard to put us in order;
But many minds will lay low to think.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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And All These Beautiful Things
AND ALL THESE BEAUTIFUL THINGS
And all these beautiful things,
And all these great people,
Are too our world and our life
And all this beauty,
So so much beauty
Is too our life and our world.
So in the pain and in the doubt and in the suffering and in the worry and in the fear and in the great great sadness and difficulty,
We should also know the Beauty
And the Love
And the Goodness
Of our world
Is too our life
And never give up
Never never never give up.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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The Lake Poets
You have heard of William Wordsworth he was bard of Cockermouth
And he truly was a great poet if that ever was in doubt
And with Southey and With Coleridge they became known as the lake poets
And they made the Lake District famous and some famous poems they wrote.
Robert Southey was a fine poet he was slave to poetry
And he was for awhile Poet Laureate proves the great poet he must be
And though he is not well known as Coleridge and Wordsworth's is a greater name
He tends to be under rated and deserve a better fame.
And as for Samuel Taylor Coleridge a name verse critics celebrate
His works were born of genius a poetic all time great
The Rhyme Of The Ancient Mariner his masterpiece and some say
Is even greater than the famous elegy of Gray
And as for himself Will Wordsworth his fame seem to grow and grow
He has fifty times as many readers nowadays as he had one hundred years ago
When one talks of poets and poetry Wordsworth's name can't be left out
A testimony to the greatness of the Bard of Cockermouth.
Coleridge, Southey and Wordsworth geniuses all three
Their names inscribed in glory and poetic history
They lived in the Lake District that beautiful English country side
And due to the fame of these men the Lake District is known World wide.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Desire To Know You
First World,
Second World,
A Third World call when a bard writes;
Flow with my mind and let us rule the world.
In my mind,
In my world,
With my views to teach many;
The desire to know you matters to me.
To appreciate it,
To love it,
A Third World call when a bard writes;
The hope to work with you.
Of a world full of questions and answers,
Of the love of the muse that muses;
To swim with an empty bowl at hand with,
The vision still in mind.
Together we live, together we can make it;
Two heads are better than one.
First World,
Second World,
Write like a writer and teach like a teacher;
Two heads are better than one.
Indoors and outdoors activities,
The comedy of one's life;
There are no distances in friendship.
Together we live, together we camn make it;
Like the actions of one's move.
To appreciate it and to love it,
To write it and to learn from it,
A world full of questions and answers;
The desire to know you matters to me.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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What Is A Jewish Poem?
WHAT IS A JEWISH POEM?
What is a Jewish poem?
‘Shema’ is a Jewish poem
Perhaps the Jewish poem-
'Shmoneh Esreh' is comprised of Jewish poems
Nineteen prayers as one-
Our history is filled with Jewish poems-
From the beginning with Abraham and Sarah
Those who have given so much beyond our understanding -
Jewish poems everywhere -
Is each Jewish life a poem and a story also?
Or is it only those who give something to our people and history
Who are worthy of Poetry?
I have known many Jewish poems
People the great world will not know the names of
People who whether they walked humbly or not
Made the lives of others better in some way –
Kindness is perhaps the ultimate Jewish poem
And Justice also-
And Jewish poems are not without their contradictions –
As I write this poem in Jerusalem in the land of Israel
I think of the small Jewish world of Troy New York where I came from so many years ago
And miss so many people no longer of that and this world –
Longing for Israel for two thousand years was the Jewish poem
Living here now is a blessing and a gift
I thank God for.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Sonnet: Functions Of Poetry
In Poetry, the Bard's inpired heart,
Reveals its feelings in a wordy way;
Adhering to the basic rules of art,
And making life delightful everyday.
At times, ‘tis wholly the play of our mind;
Sometimes, an exercise of word-painting;
Good things in it, the readers always find,
That helps to live better by God-loving.
And Poetry must stand the test of time;
The best way 'tis to depict life as such;
And suggests ways to make it more sublime;
Affording readers with a magic-touch.
Yet, Poetry must reign supreme for long,
Tho' change with times just like a modern song.
poem by John Celes
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Bananas For Three
Love will help me know my colour,
Love will help me know my name,
This city wall is all around me;
Love can help me know my colour,
Love can help me know my name,
This city wall is around you too.
Listen to the sage of the Bard around you,
Listen to the Bard from the four winds of love;
Life is like dancing in my undertrousers.
I have bananas for three to enlighten you,
Like black and white playing with my love;
I have bananas for three beyond the Euphrates River,
Like living in the Valley of Romance with my sweet lover.
I am standing between heaven and earth,
True love is all that i need in this world;
Like banana for three from my creative artistry.
On this earth, the Kings rule and misrule;
But, i have my life in the Valley of peace.
Beyond the Euphrates River with bananas for three,
This world is all that we have now to share;
Like life in the Vallley of Love to all mankind.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Sonnet: Praying Helps
I don’t know the cunning ways of the world;
I’ve delved in honesty and labor hard;
I don’t know the winning ways of the bold;
I’ve shelved my sinful ways and turned a bard.
I talk with God so frequently these days;
He knows my heart, its pangs and needs too well!
What can I do? Mystery enshrouds His ways;
He does those things that cannot give me Hell.
I know this world is too much for my head;
But worrying is of no use all the time;
Yet, praying fervently helps me instead;
The grace of God can make one’s life sublime.
My patience gives its verdict every time,
And gives me themes for yet another rhyme.
6-21-2002 by Dr John Celes
poem by John Celes
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Though Humble the Banquet
Though humble the banquet to which I invite thee,
Thou'lt find there the best a poor bard can command;
Eyes, beaming with welcome, shall throng round, to light thee,
And Love serve the feast with his own willing hand.
And though Fortune may seem to have turn'd from the dwelling
Of him thou regardest her favouring ray,
Thou wilt find there a gift, all her treasures excelling,
Which, proudly he feels, hath ennobled his way.
'Tis that freedom of mind, which no vulgar dominion
Can turn from the path a pure conscience approves,
Which, with hope in the heart, and no chain on the pinion,
Holds upwards its course to the light which it loves.
'Tis this makes the pride of his humble retreat,
And with this, though of all other treasures bereaved,
The breeze of his garden to him is more sweet
Than the costliest incense that Pomp e'er received.
Then, come, if a board so untempting hath power
To win thee from grandeur, its best shall be thine;
And there's one, long the light of the bard's happy bower,
Who, smiling will blend her bright welcome with mine.
poem by Thomas Moore
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SONNET: all things end
The mighty and powerful- all tumble!
Like boulders down the mountain-side, some day;
However great, we must always humble;
Before others humble us in some way.
The old must give way to the younger ones!
Perishing like their fore-fathers with time;
All ships could sink although they weigh in tonnes;
A dollar shares the same fate as a dime.
The man who soars in skies of his own make,
Is wise if he comes down to earth with age;
No one can forecast water in a lake;
A parrot dies, afree or in a cage!
All things on earth must cease to exist, when,
Time- the great Leveller must face its end, then.
poem by John Celes
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