Sonnet: The Bus, I Prefer to Take!
I like to take the bus tho’ old and spare
To reach for practice, my clinic by eve;
It moves like neither snail nor speeds like hare!
Yet, carefully, it goes tho’ people heave.
The driver in his sixties looks quite wise;
The passengers don’t crowd; each gets a seat;
The bus looks welded much and not so nice,
With jerky windows, silence, floor not neat!
Not many board the bus at every stop;
The journey takes a longer time indeed;
No robbers come to steal and there’s no cop;
The bus is safe but cannot others lead!
Altho’ this bus is not the one most sought,
The risk of accidents is almost naught!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 2-1-2005
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Traveled Once by a Spare-bus!
I traveled once by a spare-bus;
It was from my grand-mother’s house;
I was in hurry and therefore,
I boarded the bus, my college to go.
The seats looked ripped and so much torn;
The old-bus’ body’s bad weld shown;
The iron frame-work shocked to touch;
The window’s glass looked cracked so much;
Without good lights, the bus was dark;
Across the road came dogs to bark;
The diesel-engine’s cranky noise,
Drowned the passengers’ loudest voice.
The cassette played a hoarse, dull song;
All had to listen to the gong;
The conductor, a man quite stout,
‘Tickets, tickets, ’ he began to shout.
While the bus sped up curved roads,
The golden moon too sailed thro’ clouds;
And when it rained, the water came,
Thro’ windows, roof- Oh, what a shame!
Despite all shutters downed (half-torn) ,
The bus was almost flooded soon;
The driver drove the bus so fast,
And soon, we were amidst the ghats.
My body was in severe pain,
For hours, it was a torrential rain;
The driver honked: a dog had crossed!
The bus came to a halt and paused.
The bus was stopped by an old cop;
And very late, I reached my stop;
‘Oh, What a journey! ’ I then thought,
My travel by a spare-bus brought!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 3-25-2006
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Do Not Steal
Do not steal another’s name;
Do not steal your neighbor’s fame;
Do not steal next person’s house;
Do not steal someone’s spouse.
Do not steal one’s money;
Do not steal someone’s honey;
Do not steal other’s labor;
Do not steal things from neighbor.
Do not steal another’s job;
Do not steal from poorer mob;
Do not steal next man’s limelight;
Do not steal another’s might.
Do not steal another’s health;
Do not steal your neighbor’s wealth.
Do not steal next person’s praise;
Do not steal from human race.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 3-20-2008
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bus Travel At Night
it is the loneliest journey
bus travel at night
the driver does not talk
to the conductor
the silence is the silence of the sleep of all the passengers
i follow the road
the signs are intact
there are only lights on the sides of the streets
the trees are black
the leaves are merely shadows
the world passes me by
in complete silence the scenes changes
and all so sudden
the world moves with me
the bus is a bullet
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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No Time to Spare for God?
The precious time, God gave to us,
We find is not enough at all!
But we have time for everything,
Except to spare for God!
We have much time for sin and vice;
We have the time for things in vain;
We have the time for earthly joys,
Except to spare for God!
We find the time for worldly chores;
We find the time traditions seek;
We find the time for futile things,
Except to spare for God!
We have the time for fun and games;
We have the time for future plans;
We find the time for traveling,
Except to spare for God!
Yet, God gave us enough of time
For earthly wants, and divine needs;
The Lenten time is meant for God;
Give most to soul and God!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 2-28-2010
poem by John Celes
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Good Friends in Life...
’Tis nice to have good friends in life;
They share your emotions of yours;
They help to balance joy and strife;
They are your loving choice!
’Tis nice to have someone to greet,
And talk to you in pleasant ways;
Someone who offers you a seat,
When you’re tired in case!
’Tis nice to have a soul to share
Your feelings of sorrow and joys;
Someone who shows you, he does care,
When you have choked a voice!
’Tis nice to have a guy who jokes,
A gal who argues for your sake;
A someone, who can surely coax,
But who is ne’er a fake!
’Tis nice to have a heart of love,
Who thinks of you, more than you do;
A hand that pats you truly, ‘Wow! ’
And sometimes at you ‘boo! ’
’Tis nice to have someone to hear
Your stories and your pranks and bear;
A someone who is far, yet near,
Pays for you, your bus-fare!
’Tis nice to have someone to smile,
And make you laugh, despite your tears;
Someone quite strong and yet docile,
Who takes away your fears!
Good friends can make your life wholesome,
Bestow the verve and zeal you need;
Good friends are souls always welcome,
And guide you well indeed!
Good friends are friends for life although,
Life takes them through its maze of own;
Good friends have comforting words, oh,
You feel you’re never alone!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 6-8-2008
poem by John Celes
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New Year 2008
As the old year fades
And the New Year comes,
Most hearts and minds
Emotional become.
But thank we must
The Almighty,
For all the good things
That had happened.
Let’s efface the thoughts
Of woes, grief and strife;
Let’s hope the New Year
Will fill in those gaps
With joys and ecstasies.
Let’s all resolve
To lead better lives
As the New Year arrives,
And thank the Lord.
Let’s be soul-wise;
Let’s give up vice;
Let’s heed advice
From people nice.
As New Year unfolds,
Let’s pray to God
To bestow cheer,
All through the New Year.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 12-27-2007
poem by John Celes
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Sonnet: Our Family-Carriage to Heaven
God drives our family-carriage with four wheels-
Love, harmony, forbearance, piety;
His whip of grace goads parent horses’ heels;
Their faith in Jesus sees eternity.
All children act as passengers at first;
Some take their turn as horses very soon;
They run with crosses on footsteps of Christ;
The Bible’s words are Manna-like food- boon.
God-Driver guides the carriage in His lanes-
Narrow and straight, and guarded by angels,
As light of heaven, Holy Spirit rains;
God’s mercy-mantle has Lord’s safety-bells!
The carriage moves on swiftly, by prayers;
Of siblings, saints, prophets and soothsayers!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 4-21-2008
poem by John Celes
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100 days as Medical College Dean (B)
And Lo! I am now here
Seated in the Dean’s chair,
Breathing unpolluted air;
Trying to be quite fair.
Sending occasional glare;
Sometimes, I am a hare;
But that happens quite rare;
There no time to stare.
There’s time not to nails pare;
There isn’t time for patients’ care;
I work for everyone’s welfare;
I use not lift but stair.
There is so much to do;
There are many to woo;
Expecting my Waterloo,
I work hard and pray too.
This is so different;
This job is interesting;
So full of challenges;
I love to fight and win.
I’ve cut my foes to size;
I will be always nice;
I avoid every vice;
This isn’t like playing dice.
Some try to me entice;
I’m cautious and wise;
I take new enterprise;
I hate hearing white lies.
I try to help a lot;
I refuse to be bought;
Some try to have me caught;
‘Wars’ many, I’ve fought.
From God, zeal I’ve got;
The clime is pretty hot;
Yet, I’m a mere clay-pot!
And I must not ev’r rot.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 1-27-2009
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet: Life's Like A Train-journey
Life's a train journey; God's the driver;
We're off to a place called Eternity;
Disembarking's left to each passenger;
From birth till death, We choose any city.
This train is safe to travel till the end;
We should not put our head and limbs outside;
No matter through tunnel or acute bend,
The journey's certainly a jolly ride.
The speed of train is left for one to choose;
The conditions of travel's left to each;
'Tis left to each to sleep, watch, work or booze;
God's City is within anyone's reach.
The rail is safe; so is the engine too;
To reach God's place, depends only on you.
poem by John Celes
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My Clinic
My clinic is a ‘church’ in which I pray;
Not many patients flock in anyway;
Some rosaries I manage to well say;
This keeps both devils and my foes away.
The ones that come are poorer than they seem;
‘The rich in cars come only in my dream.’
Most patients brush their teeth with only neem;
My words of solace make their faces gleam.
So, can I fleece my brethren poor and ill?
Can I then hand them inflated a bill?
Can I charge them for just a sample pill?
They live despite the doctor’s care by ‘will! ’
I long to see more patients but be wise;
I dare not try to anyway entice;
My profession is sacrosanct and nice;
I cannot let it turn into a vice!
The only thing I hate is waste my time;
The other thing I hate’s a rainy clime;
But everyday, I write aplenty rime;
I never mind if I earn just a dime!
I scooter daily not more than a mile;
I feel so happy seeing patients smile;
Becoming rich is not my beloved style;
My heart abounds with joy when poor souls file.
When will my practice pick up? - I don’t know;
To God, my art of healing, I just owe;
Rewards in heaven wait for righteous, oh!
To ways God makes me walk, I say not, ‘No! ’
Copyright by Dr John Celes 7-10-2006
poem by John Celes
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Wisdom First!
We worry over things that turn out well;
We tend to break our head by habit much;
Things take a natural time to take their shape;
Could buds become seeds without blossoming?
If landscapes can’t be bettered, let them be;
Each building crumbles however strong-built;
Just take efforts to improve society;
If it will not improve, just don’t worry.
Time will decide and heal all wounds by scar;
Nature will teach lessons through disasters;
Man cannot think that he can rule all things;
The Maker’s more destructive than all man’s!
But man must learn to become quickly wise;
Our earthly stay is too ephemeral;
The aim of life must not be forgotten;
Within the time-frame, let’s do concrete things.
Our spiritual journey must be right on course;
We tend to veer by sins: but keep the road;
The soul must be prepared for Heaven’s gates;
Can God defile His own Holy Abode?
Copyright by Dr John Celes 10-16-2005
poem by John Celes
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Sonnet: On My Future
I do not change my future on my own;
God has been doing that for me till now;
Amidst my earthly problems, I’m alone;
Nevertheless, I’m safe: I don’t know how?
Some people work all by themselves in life;
Their trust in themselves is more than in God;
They scheme to drive out penury and strife;
Nevertheless, they get their earthly rod.
The one who puts his trust in God is wise;
His peace of mind and heart are excellent;
The one who trusts himself lands up in vice;
He wastes his precious time that God has lent.
Have faith in God and future looks alright;
The atheist does suffer sad a plight.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 3-9-2008
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet: Why is my Medical Practice Dull?
I wonder why my practice ne’er picks up!
I’ve tried to correct lapses on my side;
My practice always stays my woeful cup;
Each eve, I muse while on my scooter-ride!
I ponder why but it is of no use;
The profit made is not a sum worthwhile;
My precious time improves my soaring muse;
Will God not see my prayerful plea-file?
And yet, my mind is steadfast as a rock;
I can’t discern the plans God has for me;
I cannot bear the ways people can mock;
How can I fleece the men of poverty?
Perhaps, my clinic is a place to pray!
God leads His righteous souls in strange a way!
poem by John Celes
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New Year Resolutions
Give God the place that’s due to Him;
Spare time to read the Bible well;
Meditate upon the Word of God;
Live as per His expectations.
Have trust in God’s omnipotence;
Pay heed to His warnings in time;
Have God as Friend and Guide all life;
Keep your soul pure always by grace.
Do your duty: Leave the rest to God;
Ask pardon for sins committed;
Serve God: Ignore the world of men;
Walk/ run on ‘the Road to Heaven’;
Be soul-wise in earthly life.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 1-5-2006
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet: My Life’s Journey
Though road unclear, life’s journey continues
In ways intended, providentially;
I march unconcerned of the worldly views
That engulfs mankind universally!
The journey takes me through untravelled roads
And lanes, I never imagined in life;
I sense a supernatural force that goads,
Despite the surprises, setbacks and strife!
The horizon seems pretty near, yet far;
The end appears so nigh but not quite so;
Could I too don the light like bright a star?
The time is short and I have much to do!
The march is steady with God overhead;
I must not give up until I am dead!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 1-28-2010
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Power of God
Can you
Count the stars in the sky,
Call each one by name,
Speak to them by day and night,
Listen to their complaints,
See them as the eyes of God,
Command them to fall?
Nay, NEVER.
But,
God alone CAN.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 11-20-2005
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Praying Mantis
The praying mantis hardly prays!
By camouflage, it takes its preys;
It hunts insects that fly all days;
A carnivore, it always stays!
Its eyes see well for sixty feet!
It lives on branches green to eat;
Sometimes, its color looks like wheat;
It turns its neck full circle neat.
The female kills the male in sex;
Big ones can eat a frog and vex;
They are not poisonous at all;
They climb quite fast a tree or wall!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 7-27-2008
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Practice Every Step
Practice every step.
Do not second guess what it takes.
Practice every step.
Practice every step.
There's no sleeping for someone who has a place to go,
So...
Practice every step.
Practice every step.
Focus on that goal,
And tighten on your hold,
And...
Practice every step.
Practice every step.
Practice every step.
Do not second guess what it takes.
Practice every step.
Practice every step.
Every journey taken,
Must be thought of as a race...
And,
Practice every step.
Practice every step.
There's no other way to straighten out a crooked road,
So...
Practice every step.
Practice every step.
No matter what you're told,
There will be some doubts and woes...
But you,
Practice every step.
Yes you,
Practice every step.
Woes you hold will eventually go,
So...
Practice every step.
Practice every step.
Practice every step.
Practice every step.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Truths of My Life
No one is my enemy;
My sins and blunders cause my woes;
My iniquities turn my foes;
I blame myself squarely.
No one is my friend indeed;
Most people are mere actors good;
Never expect their help, I should;
They live in utter greed.
No one is my role-model;
I see just people imperfect;
And everyone has some defect;
The world is in pell-mell.
So, I must be just myself;
But let me try to be better;
Let me be good a trend-setter;
Let me not be for pelf.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 10-13-2005
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Passengers
The things we think that feel the best.
Most often cause us pain.
So we risk to seek the pleasure.
Again, and again and again.
This is for the ones we hurt the most.
They sit and watch us slowly die.
We sacrifice their little hearts.
We rarely bat an eye.
They are merely passengers.
Riding on our ship.
We unknowingly bring them along.
On our destruction trip.
When we feel the pain.
They feel it even more.
The quest to our destruction.
Lies just beyond the door.
We open it up and walk right in.
The pleasures make us blind.
The innocent little passengers.
They follow right behind.
A tear wells up in the little one’s eye.
And rolls down their little cheek.
But we journey down the road to hell.
Their pain is worth the peek.
Another door, another room.
Further in we go.
The passengers hurt and terrified.
As we continue on our show.
Then when it is all said and done.
And we admit our own defeat.
The innocent little passengers.
Stand behind us bruised and beat.
We turn around and there they are.
We see the damage we’ve done.
The pain for the innocent passengers.
Was not at all worth all our selfish fun.
We say we’re sorry, forgive me please.
Can we leave this all behind.
Not aware of all the scar tissues.
We’ve left in their little minds.
So chose your path so carefully.
With everything you say and do.
The pleasure we seek, it is all lies.
But to our passengers it’s the truth.
We hurt the ones we love the most.
Our actions lead the way.
Remember their tomorrows.
Lie within our todays.
poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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