Sonnet: God Knows Us Well
The servant knows his master’s strengths and faults,
His expectations, needs, commands and love;
His driver knows wherever master halts,
His anger, weaknesses and patience, oh!
The spouse knows how the partner eats and sleeps;
His emotions and work-related stress;
And when his heart is fast or slowly beeps,
And how to help when him he’s in a mess.
The cat knows when to purr or stay quiet;
The dog knows when to bark or keep silent;
But what God wants, man never knows as yet,
Nor how to lead his life or spend the Lent!
God watches every creature that He made;
His love for man and beast will never fade.
poem by John Celes
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Sonnet: Master-servant Relationship
Where Master cares for servant’s welfare too
And treats him like a fellow-man at least,
And twain help each other to grow and woo,
The Master can never become a beast.
Where servant earns his master’s goodwill first,
By doing duty, uttering no word,
The Master cannot ever turn his worst,
Nor any time from hilt remove his sword!
Thus, master, servant is inseparable;
One thinks about the other all the time;
And love is born strong like in a fable,
With other’s help, each makes his life sublime.
Think of the other’s needs much more than self,
And never work for worldly acclaim/pelf.
7-26-2002
poem by John Celes
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Be arrogant to stay put.
A passionate servant served his Master,
Attending his needs no less than anyone,
And for him, fought the Eagle in the battle,
But by the Master was overthrown ill,
And was put to the claw of the same Eagle,
Who crept in, to replace the servant.
Where lies the error of judgment?
Squarely upon the ill-fated servant.
A faithful servant to the faithless Master.
Had he been a fraud, the Master might mind.
(M. Karunanithi, the servent, was defeated in the Assembly Election thoroughly by ADMK headed by Jayalalitha.)
27.05.2001, Pmdi.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Too Much
As a slave observes his master and so grows
Familiar in his ways (though still in fee)
I have studied Love to bend his blows
Hoping, eventually, to be free:
Meet his every visit with reproaches
When he calls you quickly, quickly tarry
Never seek him, wait till he approaches
Leaving banks where he is known to dally.
Learn to become the Master's master
Master cast as servant of the servant's
Remember Love evaporates the faster
Proportionate to how you offer urgence.
But if you're sick of peace and sanity
Feel free to disregard this monody.
poem by Morgan Michaels
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Am I a master
I am the master, master of art
have painted true pictures,
of rising sun, mountain, sea
through jungles flowing rivers,
shining stars, birds, cloudy sky,
can paint anything and everything.
insects, lions, bear and deer.
just like the living things.
I am the master, master of art,
can make my own paint and brush
Alas! but cannot create raw material
of any of paint, brush or canvas.
Oh! can not paint these seven
which are made only in heaven:
smell, touch, look, hear and taste,
emotions, thought and breathe.
No, I am not the master, master of art
can paint uncountable things yet not.
Not possible to paint love and laugh
I have to go again and again to learn
to the supreme master, who painted
the universe, stars, moon and sun
(C) S. D. Tiwari
poem by S.D. Tiwari
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Lord of the Flies
Oh Master my Master
Oh where have you been
I wallowed in filth and
I drowned in sin
Oh Master my Master
It's my rotten luck
To swim in the decay
And swallow the muck
Oh Master my Master
I stand in the fires
Surrounded by murderers
Thieves, cheaters, and liars
Oh Master my Master
the earth has turned red
Fluid with blood
Of the recently dead
Oh Master my Master
What's wrong with the world
The blackness unfolds
Like a flag that's unfurled
Oh Master my Master
You ignore my cries
And now I'm quite sure
You're the Lord of the Flies
poem by Anonymous Ghurl
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Ode to Death
in the end
we all bid
farewell
to ourselves
in the cold
the world a stage
everybody has
to play no,
not Shakespeare's
suggested single role
but a double role
master and slave
this physique
that stoically
bids us
do its chores
for all its needs
physical, spiritual
the most exacting partner
one would ever get
a quiet stoic bullier
and after all the slavery tasks
the master leaves
the slave in the cold
a cold that freezes
in the finest of weather
without the snow
the blizzard
deep into everybody's heart, soul
the master and slave
a marriage made in heaven
till death do us part
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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My Work's
My work’s
My work’s was all for you and I see that I need it and now let me feel all of it’s meaning,
All plans that I have for my past was all for your future,
I found that you made me strong and now I see that in your love I define all love in your work’s,
Time is all moving so fast and there is nothing to lose for your essence we violated all your work’s and see that nothing but pain made me see that I need to prepare that we love all nature by what we all define for the new creation,
I see that you made me strong in my heart and find that you are eventually made me see that we are creature’s that search for a Creator, this is all I see and in it let me define all it’s true meaning,
This is all that I have and in your work’s I know that you never made me fall and now I know that in your love never make me hesitate and in your love I see that in your love let me love and in these work’s I know that you never made me fall,
I know that in all work’s I see that in my life you never planned to waste any of my time and in your immutability I saw that we shared equal opportunities,
Heal me and tell me that I need it all in me for the new creation that never made me to get lost in all love that made me suffer and know that the unseen in you is all justice in you and I feel that I need and in all love that is all love that healed all afflictions.
poem by Maxim Muyu
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12 Midnight
Now the master sleeps
Leaving you some of his poems
Now it is midnight
Now the master has to sleep
Take care yourselves
Take care of his poems
They are now yours,
All his disciples
The master sleeps.
Now, see, how the master breathes
Listen to the rhythm of his sighs
Some poems are coming out from
His nostrils some poems are coming out
From his mouth and ears
The master poet is asleep
Even in dreams he weaves some images
Dreamy, surreal, ephemeral, his sleep
Has rhyme & rhythm, he is a soul breathing
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Just A Friendly Small Dog
Just a small brown and white jack russell with a stub for a tail
Yet when it comes to trust and loyalty his master he never fail
One who will never know of canine renown
Yet to his mentor he is the best dog in the town
With a ball or a stick he loves for to play
Just a friendly terrier friendly in every way
Yet his master with his life he'd defend
'Tis true what is said of a four legged friend
Respect for his master in love and devotion he does pay
At the gate to greet him home from work every day
With wagging stumpy tail and an excited bark
As if to say master take me to fetch ball in the park
Just a friendly small dog with a stump of a tail
But when it comes to devotion and loyalty he never does fail.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Talk Of Tongue In Anger
In anger, whatever
The tongue utters,
May be loud to ear
But, are the words bitter.
Anger talks hot words,
Provokes and instigates,
Bitter the relationship
And happiness desolates.
Utter in anger un-pleases,
Heart beats increases,
Peace and patience seizes,
Emotions, controls un-eases.
Happiness lies in love,
Loving fetches the joy,
What you give same you take,
Anger or love receive back.
For happiness keep you normal,
Emotions and anger controllable,
Liquidate the ill thoughts,
And keep you hospitable.
poem by S.D. Tiwari
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Master
Master went a-hunting,
When the leaves were falling;
We saw him on the bridle path,
We heard him gaily calling.
'Oh master, master, come you back,
For I have dreamed a dream so black!'
A glint of steel from bit and heel,
The chestnut cantered faster;
A red flash seen amid the green,
And so good-bye to master.
Master came from hunting,
Two silent comrades bore him;
His eyes were dim, his face was white,
The mare was led before him.
'Oh, master, master, is it thus
That you have come again to us?'
I held my lady's ice-cold hand,
They bore the hurdle past her;
Why should they go so soft and slow?
It matters not to master.
poem by Arthur Conan Doyle
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His Apologies
Master, this is Thy Servant. He is rising eight weeks old.
He is mainly Head and Tummy. His legs are uncontrolled.
But Thou hast forgiven his ugliness, and settled him on Thy knee . . .
Art Thou content with Thy Servant? He is
very
comfy with Thee.
Master, behold a Sinner? He hath committed a wrong.
He hath defiled Thy Premises through being kept in too long.
Wherefore his nose has been rubbed in the dirt, and his self-respect has been bruiséd.
Master, pardon Thy Sinner, and see he is properly looséd.
Master - again Thy Sinner! This that was once Thy Shoe,
He hath found and taken and carried aside, as fitting matter to chew.
Now there is neither blacking nor tongue, and the Housemaid has us in tow.
Master, remember Thy Servant is young, and tell her to let him go!
Master, extol Thy Servant! He hath met a most Worthy Foe!
There has been fighting all over the Shop - and into the Shop also!
Till cruel umbrellas parted the strife (or I might have been choking him yet).
But Thy Servant has had the Time of his Life - and now shall we call on the vet?
Master, behold Thy Servant! Strange children came to play,
And because they fought to caress him, Thy Servant wentedst away.
But now that the Little Beasts have gone, he has returned to see
(Brushed - with his Sunday collar on) what they left over from tea.
Master, pity Thy Servant! He is deaf and three parts blind,
He cannot catch Thy Commandments. He cannot read Thy Mind.
Oh, leave him not in his loneliness; nor make him that kitten’s scorn.
He hath had none other God than Thee since the year that he was born!
Lord, look down on Thy Servant! Bad things have come to pass,
There is no heat in the midday sun, nor health in the wayside grass.
His bones are full of an old disease - his torments run and increase.
Lord, make haste with Thy Lightnings and grant him a, quick release!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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A silente creature
The silent creature
populates the human
minds
A silent creature
is invisible but
reliable and fizzy
This creature is
silent because she
needs to be
understood, refined and
she wants a
lot of aids
A silent creature
is an explosion
of life
To be a
silent creature is
a fresh and
wonderful sensation
A silent creature
is an angelical
messenger
She is a
happy, ancient, colorful
and vital imagine
A silent creature
tells many different
and interesting stories
Sometimes the silent
creature deceives to
defeat the racism
A silent creature
is defenseless from
the not curious
A silent creature
is a desirable
but desperate and
suspicious person
A silent creature
can be an
alter ego
She is a
guide of dignity
and human values
poem by Laura arwen
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Im Your Man
If you want a lover
Ill do anything you ask me to
And if you want another kind of love
Ill wear a mask for you
If you want a partner
Take my hand
Or if you want to strike me down in anger
Here I stand
Im your man
If you want a boxer
I will step into the ring for you
And if you want a doctor
Ill examine every inch of you
If you want a driver
Climb inside
Or if you want to take me for a ride
You know you can
Im your man
Ah, the moons too bright
The chains too tight
The beast wont go to sleep
Ive been running through these promises to you
That I made and I could not keep
Ah but a man never got a woman back
Not by begging on his knees
Or Id crawl to you baby
And Id fall at your feet
And Id howl at your beauty
Like a dog in heat
And Id claw at your heart
And Id tear at your sheet
Id say please, please
Im your man
And if youve got to sleep
A moment on the road
I will steer for you
And if you want to work the street alone
Ill disappear for you
If you want a father for your child
Or only want to walk with me a while
Across the sand
Im your man
If you want a lover
Ill do anything you ask me to
And if you want another kind of love
Ill wear a mask for you
song performed by by Leonard Cohen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tongue in anger
In anger, whatever
The tongue utters,
May be loud to ear
But, are the words bitter.
Anger talks hot words,
Provokes and instigates,
Bitter the relationship
And happiness desolates.
Utter in anger un-pleases,
Heart beats increases,
Peace and patience seizes,
Emotions, controls un-eases.
Happiness lies in love,
Loving fetches the joy,
What you give same you take,
Anger or love receive back.
For happiness keep you normal,
Emotions and anger controllable,
Liquidate the ill thoughts,
And keep you hospitable.
(C) S.D. Tiwari
poem by S.D. Tiwari
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I think I'm good at amplifying an actor's strengths, and minimizing their weaknesses. And they all have strengths and weaknesses.
quote by Steven Soderbergh
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Sonnet: Take Me, O Master, Into Thine Vineyard
0 Master, take me into Thine vineyard;
Thou give me any duty as Thou please;
And when I've finish'd show me Thine backyard;
Enroll me vassal, when free of disease.
0 Master fair, Thou give me a job soon;
Thou may pay me anything in return;
To be Thine servant, humblest is a boon;
For then, I can't ever go to Hell and burn.
0 Master kind, any job will suffice;
My precious time, I've wasted for quite long;
Thou give me food, enough to do work nice;
Thou give me work before ceases Thine song.
How lucky 'tis to be in Thine vineyard!
A servant's lucky more in Thine backyard.
poem by John Celes
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Vulture can't Dance
Master eats first
Servant eats last
Servant always eat bones
And takes guitar
And sings
‘‘Every birds dance
But vulture can't dance
Mistress eats first
Slave eats last
Slave always eat bones
And take guitar
And sings
‘‘Every birds sing
But vulture can't sing
poem by David Aoloch Bion
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Life Will Give
Having real faith is knowing that life will give you unexpected circumstances that no one could have imagined were all of your so called mistakes, faults, weaknesses, and issues will be your greatest strengths, such ways of how things are will not only redeem you but rattle all those that doubted you, in to higher levels of belief in life, in their good. Many will be more able to see through the illusion of darkness, that is the result of intentional lack of love.
poem by Michael Kavuoti
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