The Bihar Floods 2008
Fed by the melting snows from Himalayas,
And seven tributaries through the year,
The river Kosi still remains untamed!
A giant ‘water-snake’ that moves side-wards,
Flooding the fields and washing off all huts –
A river that is annually ‘in spate’!
The ‘Kosi’ is the ‘sorrow of Bihar’!
A million people have lost huts and homes;
Many are stranded without shelter, food.
The plight of people is so pathetic;
The helicopters can rescue but few;
The food-packets don’t reach the hungry souls!
They blame a broken barrage near Nepal;
But embankments can’t stop the annual floods;
The river changed its course so many times!
O Indian, wake up to the neighbor’s call!
Share your mite to help the marooned people;
Your love of brethren should engulf your hearts!
O God, have mercy on the flood-hit state!
Recede the waters of Kosi in spate;
Rescue the victims and improve their fate!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 08-31-2008
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
The Flood
The water flows to any place,
Flooding the land en way;
Submerging roads, bridges and fields,
Filling the wells and lakes;
It spares no one and humans too,
Neither the beasts nor trees;
Carrying the garbage and rubbish
And the entire sewage of state;
Whole villages have been cut off;
Many have been marooned;
Shelterless and starving in the cold;
Some clutch on to pieces of wood;
And stay alive for some more time,
Afraid to lose their hold;
There’s no water to even drink;
The people are all stark-naked;
And all they see is sea-water,
No food is in sight for many miles;
Oh, what havoc, the storm has wrought
On a state so poor!
So many fishermen are lost;
And many must have died;
Perched atop trees dangerously,
Birds too have not been spared;
They have lost their nests in trees;
And eggs and young ones as well;
The rain is pouring incessantly;
None can escape its brunt;
The state is cut into ‘islets’,
With corpses, carcasses afloat;
The air is filled by malodor;
The stench unfit to breathe;
Many human lives have lost in flood,
The place is diseases-prone;
Should nature be so unkind
To human beings on earth?
Help seems to come at a snail’s speed;
Thousands were swept alive;
No one knows the numbers lost;
A pall of gloom covers;
Will the flood-waters ever recede?
Will the sun dry up the land?
Lakhs of houses have been washed off;
God help the poor victims!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 12-8-1999
poem by John Celes
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Washing Of The Water
River, river carry me on
Living river carry me on
River, river carry me on
To the place where I come from
So deep, so wide, will you take me on your back for a ride
If I should fall, would you swallow me deep inside
River, show me how to float
I feel like Im sinking down
Thought that I could get along
But here in this water
My feet wont touch the ground
I need something to turn myself around
Going away, away towards the sea
River deep, can you lift up and carry me
Oh roll on though the heartland
til the sun has left the sky
River, river carry me high
til the washing of the water make it all alright
Let your waters reach me like she reached me tonight
Letting go, its so hard
The way its hurting now
To get this love untied
So tough to stay with thing
cause if I follow through
I face what I denied
I get those hooks out of me
And I take out the hooks that I sunk deep in your side
Kill that fear of emptiness, loneliness I hide
River, oh river, river running deep
Bring me something that will let me get to sleep
In the washing of the water will you take it all away
Bring me something to take this pain away
song performed by by Peter Gabriel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hurricane Katrina 2005
Wind and water, sand mixed mud;
Blowing over New Orleans;
Bringing rain from bursting clouds;
Flooding States like ne’er before!
Peeling roofs and tearing roads;
Bringing bridges down by force;
Slamming cars and flooding streets;
Katrina’s the worst storm seen!
Breaking levees, ‘laking’ lands;
Houses submerged by the scores;
Washing corpses, known, unknown;
Rescue-teams can hardly cope!
People had no power, food;
Nor could leave to safer zones;
Caught ’midst swirling currents fast,
Some perished like ‘paper-boats’!
Water, water everywhere;
Unfit for quenching one’s thirst;
The living wish they were too dead;
‘Help is coming- God knows when’!
The swollen rivers flooded towns;
Razing buildings down with ease;
Neighborhoods vanished near shores;
What a ruthless Nature’s show!
A million have been affected;
Homes are flattened, bricks all strewn;
Pleas for help are unheard still;
The world remains deaf, blind and mute!
poem by John Celes
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Where Is The River?
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or somewhere else
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or hidden under the ground
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or safe inside the cave
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or still far away
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or up above the cloud
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or out of our reach
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or trickling on the rock
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or gathering in the pool
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or down over the cliff
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or just sight of illusion
Where is the river?
Is it here
Running in your eyes
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or sudden flood in the road
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Dogged Days
A country-dog has chanced to find
A plantain-leaf with left-o’er food;
Oh, what a stroke of luck this day!
It rolls over the ground with joy
And rips the packet open fast.
Some bits of chicken-bones with flesh
Amidst some biriyani rice –
That smells quite good but could be stale,
Yet tempting to the dog’s taste-buds!
The food lies scattered on the ground
With mud and pebbles, paper too;
A hungry dog is blind to these,
And eats the food in hurried way.
God only knows what things have slipped
Past throat, along with food it took;
Its hunger-pangs abated now,
The dog basks in the sun and sleeps!
But death could come soon anytime;
Just lucky, ’tis alive today!
Think of the human beings too,
Who lead a dogged-life these days –
Without a proper meal a day
Or clothes to wear or place to rest!
The God of love who made us all
Is watching how we treat brethren;
We talk so big but do little
To help the most unfortunate souls.
No land can call itself blessed;
No people can call themselves great,
While famished, ravished souls exist,
And people live in slums like dogs!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 2-8-2009
poem by John Celes
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Scent of democracy! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
A homeless woman squatted on the pavement
Empty bottle of mineral water by her side.
It was a hot summer noon …the stench
Of poverty makes me ashamed as I ride,
The swanky metro. Brooding… get off at my station,
Impatiently, walk as the street urchins extend hands to beg,
For money, for food; wonder should I buy rations
With dismay, saw one was hopping, had only one leg.
Anger welled up against the mafia that maims these kids,
And trains them in art of begging, recognise the victims.
The so called slum dogs, with resignation and grit
Grow into petty thieves or whores, at the mercy of pimps.
The dance of Democracy reaches a crescendo.
Candidates come with promises and folded hands.
Smouldering eyes, one asked with bravado,
How come in the name of growth we see a helipad?
Young nation, been six decades, since independent,
Learnt, after Kosi floods, kids sold for pennies by parents.
Common man’s plight worse than that of pigs and insects.
Live on hope and prayers, a great leader will finally resurrect…
poem by Mamta Agarwal
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Teach The Gifted Children
Teach the gifted children
Teach them to have mercy
Teach them about sunsets
Teach them about moonrise
Teach them about anger
The sin that comes with dawning
Teach them about flowers
And the beauty of forgetfulness
Then take me to the river (take me to the river)
And put me in the water (and put me in the water)
Bless them and forgive them (take me to the river)
Father cause they just dont know (take me to the river)
All the gifted children
Teach the gifted children
The way of men and animals
Teach them about cities
The history of the mysteries
Their vice and their virtues
About branches that blow in the wind
On the wages of their sins
Teach them of forgiveness
Teach them about mercy
Teach them about music
And the cool and cleansing waters
What do they say, take me to the river (take me to the river)
Take me to the river (take me to the river)
Put me in the water (take me to the river)
And teach the gifted children (take me to the river)
All the gifted children (take me to the river)
(take me to the river)
(take me to the river)
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Grand Rapids
Air -- "Bright Alfaretta"
Wild roved the Indians once
On the banks of Grand River,
And they built their little huts
Down by that flowing river.
In a pleasant valley fair,
Where flows the river rapid,
An Indian village once was there,
Where now stands Grand Rapids.
Indian girls and boys were seen,
With their bow and quiver,
Riding in their light canoes
Up and down the river.
Their hearts were full of joy,
Happy voices singing
Made music with forest birds,
They kept the valley ringing.
Indians have left and gone
Beyond the Mississippi.
They called the river Owashtenong
Where stands this pleasant city.
Louis Campau the first white man
Bought land in Grand Rapids.
He lived and died, an honored man
By people of Grand Rapids.
When Campau came to the valley
No bridge was across the river;
Indians in their light canoes
Rowed them o'er the water.
Railroads now from every way
Run through the city, Grand Rapids;
The largest town in west Michigan
Is the city of Grand Rapids.
poem by Julia A Moore
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Flooding River
forbidden waters
makes one weak
a drowning man
knows no peace
flooding river
winding down
like a warden
grants no release
flooding river
gonna take my home
leave me
naked and alone
mean old river
so unkind
shows no mercy
leaves nothin' behind
poem by Faith Elizabeth Brigham
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River Death
River was
Running...
With water...
Water are
Nice too
Play with sands...
Trees...
Mountain rocks...
Swmming fishes...
Some time jump
With dive and swime...
Sun was see
Face at river water
Mirror...?
moon was
Click the eye
About
The river....
Animals are swimming
Birds also drinking...
People also
Swmming too
Wash the cloths...
River was
Every day run
Simply not sad...
At rainey time...
At winter time...
Summer time
River not run
Stop to stop
Death the river...
Sky cry...
With rain
Run the river...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Take Me To The River
I dont know why I love her like I do
All the changes you put me through
Take my money, my cigarettes
I havent seen the worst of it yet
I wanna know that youll tell me
I love to stay
Take me to the river, drop me in the water
Take me to the river, dip me in the water
Washing me down, washing me down
I dont know why you treat me so bad
Think of all the things we could have had
Love is an ocean that I cant forget
My sweet sixteen I would never regret
I wanna know that youll tell me
I love to stay
Take me to the river, drop me in the water
Push me in the river, dip me in the water
Washing me down, washing me
Hug me, squeeze me, love me, tease me
Till I cant, till I cant, till I cant take no more of it
Take me to the water, drop me in the river
Push me in the water, drop me in the river
Washing me down, washing me down
I dont know why I love you like I do
All the troubles you put me through
Sixteen candles there on my wall
And here am I the biggest fool of them all
I wanna know that youll tell me
I love to stay
Take me to the river and drop me in the water
Dip me in the river, drop me in the water
Washing me down, washing me down.
song performed by by Talking Heads
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Beautiful River
And he showed me a pure River of Water of Life, clear as crystal, proceeding out of the Throne of God and of the Lamb." -- Rev. xxii. 1
Shall we gather at the river
Where bright angel feet have trod;
With its crystal tide forever
Flowing by the throne of God?
CHORUS.
Yes, we'll gather at the river,
The beautiful, the beautiful river --
Gather with the saints at the river
That flows by the throne of God.
On the margin of the river,
Washing up its silver spray,
We will walk and worship ever,
All the happy, golden day.
Yes, we'll gather at the river,
The beautiful, the beautiful river --
Gather with the saints at the river
That flows by the throne of God.
On the bosom of the river,
Where the Saviour-king we own,
We shall meet, and sorrow never
'Neath the glory of the throne. Cho.
Yes, we'll gather at the river,
The beautiful, the beautiful river --
Gather with the saints at the river
That flows by the throne of God.
Ere we reach the shining river,
Lay we every burden down;
Grace our spirits will deliver,
And provide a robe and crown. Cho.
Yes, we'll gather at the river,
The beautiful, the beautiful river --
Gather with the saints at the river
That flows by the throne of God.
At the smiling of the river,
Rippling with the Saviour's face,
Saints, whom death will never sever,
Lift their songs of saving grace. Cho.
Yes, we'll gather at the river,
The beautiful, the beautiful river --
Gather with the saints at the river
That flows by the throne of God.
Soon we'll reach the shining river,
Soon our pilgrimage will cease,
Soon our happy hearts will quiver
With the melody of peace. Cho.
Yes, we'll gather at the river,
The beautiful, the beautiful river --
Gather with the saints at the river
That flows by the throne of God.
poem by Robert Wadsworth Lowry
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river in spate
flooded mine
trapped miners, buried alive
quote by by John Celes
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Iinto My Heart
Into my heart a river is flowing
Its roars are not heard, urging
Like a overfilled bowl it's flooding,
There starts soul's hurting.
At its banks the flood is beating,
Its dirt and stones are floating.
In the water swans are swimming.
Their secrets the waves are sharing
One day I'll not be able to rein it,
One by one my patience breaks
Destructing its river-bed once,
This river floods out of my eyes.
poem by Uktamoy Khaldorova
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I Looked in a River
I looked in a river from a bridge I was on
The river and bridge both small yet so strong
The water so clear you could see river bed
Yet what I saw cast around made me feel sad
A concrete pylon about two meters long
An old sack and Iron Gate and a cycle half gone
Then a blue plastic bag and a tyre yet no wheel
A place in seems for discarded items people steal
It’s a shame a disgrace as this debris is strewn
As around it all river plants and reeds fight for room
Yet again it’s a puzzle as the waters so clear
That’s despite this mess on the riverbed here
Copyright © 2008 Ray Feasey
poem by Ray Feasey
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God, Give Us Rain!
The fields are parched;
The wells are dry;
And people cannot even cry!
Birds chirp no more;
Leafless are trees;
The wind is hot; so's the breeze!
The sun scorches;
Prevails viral disease;
The dam hasn't water to release!
Riparian states have gone to war,
With words of hate pouring from hearts;
Friends turn foes as dharna, strike starts!
This year the drought
Has been severe;
But people need water that's dear!
Each day, the farmers gaze
Upwards onto the sky,
And wish that they did better die!
God give us rain;
Life can't go on if unopened
Remain the flood-gates of Heaven!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 6-10-12
poem by John Celes
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River Niger
Many rivers join up to the River Niger,
As it flows along many West African countries to reach up to the sea;
Port Harcourt will give you the clue because,
The Niger Delta meets up the Atlantic Ocean with love and care.
River Niger has been a lot of benefits to the West African People,
And out of the Niger Delta comes Oil to satisfy Nigerian people!
The Africans have benefited from this oil and the World as well,
And of the routes of the River Niger to settle many people as their homes;
For ths river is very important to us all in Africa and the world over.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Oh, what do I do?
Oh,
What do I do
If people do
Not want to change
For their own good?
What do I do
If people want
To fight in vain
In angry mood?
What do I do
If people love
To do those things
They should not do?
What do I do
If people try
To slander and
Much gossip too?
What do I do
If people do
Not live in peace
With fellow-men?
What do I do
If people bear
Ill-will and grudge
Against brethren?
What do I do
If people strive
To live in vice,
And not advice?
What do I do
If people will
Not share excess
With country-men?
What do I do
If people like
To live in sin
And hate, within?
What do I do
If people don’t
Amend their lives
And turn soul-wise?
What do I do
If people waste
Their precious time
In ego prime?
The things men do
And women too,
Hurt minds and hearts,
Like arrows, darts!
The things they do
Can anger God,
To give His nod
For divine rod!
Oh, will not men
Give up their pride
Or their sins hide,
In God abide?
Copyright by Dr John Celes 8-24-2007
poem by John Celes
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Buried Alive By Love
Again the burden of losing
Rests upon my shoulders
And its weight seems unbearable
Your tomb is where your heart is,
I should have told her
But within me hid a secret so terrible
To cry is to know that you're alive
But my river of tears has run dry
I never wanted to fool you, no
But a cold heart is a dead heart
And it feels like Ive been buried alive by love
If I should die before I wake
I pray no one my soul to take
If I wake before I die,
Rescue me with your smile
If I should die before I wake
I pray no one my soul to take
If I wake before I die,
Rescue me with your smile
The kiss of vanity you blessed me with, spiritual woman,
Face the gods of war insatiable
Your home is where the dark is, I should have told her
Embrace the fire indestructible
To die is to know that you're alive
And my river of blood won't run dry
I never wanted to lose you, no
But a cold heart is a dead heart
And it feels like Ive been buried alive by love
If I should die before I wake
I pray no one my soul to take
If I wake before I die,
rescue me with your smile
If I should die before I wake
I pray no one my soul to take
If I wake before I die,
Rescue me with your smile
And they say to cry is to know that you're alive
But my river of tears has run dry
I never wanted to fool you, no
But a cold heart is a dead heart
And a deserted soul is gone
A cold heart is a dead heart
And it feels like Ive been buried alive by love
If I should die before I wake
I pray no one my soul to take
If I wake before I die,
Rescue me with your smile,
If I should die before I wake
I pray no one my soul to take
If I wake before I die,
Rescue me with your smile
I've been buried alive by love
Ive been buried alive by love
Buried alive by love
I've been buried alive by love
I've been buried alive by love
I've been buried alive by love
song performed by by H.I.M.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Love That Dirty Water! (The Standells)
The eastern world, it is exploding
Violence flarin', bullets loadin'
You're old enough to kill, but not for votin'
You don't believe in war, but what's that gun you're totin'
And even the Jordan River has bodies floatin'
Eve of Destruction-- Barry McGuire
The Standells sang about the dirty water in the Charles River in Boston
Well I love that dirty water
Oh, Boston you're my home
Oh, you're the number one place
(1966)
(This observation is not about a soulful, cut time, melodious affirmation about the singer's affinity to polluted water in Massachusetts. However, it is about a river who Christians, Jews and Muslims hold very dear in their hearts.)
Well maybe the Jordan River is not a aqueous cemetery
But if you drink the water,
even touch the water- let alone be baptized,
You could be in trouble,
the water is polluted,
That should make you leery
It appears that the population is going up
And the water level is going down,
In that geographical region
Many turds of goats
or donkeys
or humans are washed away by rain
or by flushing*
-eventually ends in Jordan River
Not to mention the pesticides and fertilizer
That should makes you quiver.
St. John, if you were alive today,
Then you would not make it though a year**
Baptizing people in the Jordan River
Instead people being baptized in Jordan River water
They should possibly get baptized in more purer fluid,
poem by Joe Rosochacki
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