
Then And Now
A little time agone, a few brief years,
And there was peace within our beauteous borders;
Peace, and a prosperous people, and no fears
Of war and its disorders.
Pleasure was ruling goddess of our land; with her attendant Mirth
She led a jubilant, joy-seeking band about the riant earth.
Do you recall those laughing days, my Brothers,
And those long nights that trespassed on the dawn?
Those throngs of idle dancing maids and mothers
Who lilted on and on-
Card mad, wine flushed, bejewelled and half stripped,
Yet women whose sweet mouth had never sipped
From sin's black chalice-women good at heart
Who, in the winding maze of pleasure's mart,
Had lost the sun-kissed way to wholesome pleasures of an earlier day.
Oh! You remember them! You filled their glasses;
You 'cut in' at their games of bridge; you left
Your work to drop in on their dancing-classes
Before the day was cleft
In twain by noontide. When the night waxed late
You led your partner forth to demonstrate
The newest steps before a cheering throng,
And Time and Peace danced by your side along.
Peace is a lovely word, and we abhor that red word 'War';
But look ye, Brothers, what this war has done for daughters and for son,
For manhood and for womanhood, whose trend
Seemed year on year toward weakness to descend.
Upon this woof of darkness and of terror, woven by human error,
Behold the pattern of a new race-soul,
And it shall last while countless ages roll.
At the loud call of drums, out of the idler and the weakling comes
The hero valiant with self-sacrifice, ready to pay the price
War asks of men, to help a suffering world.
And out of the arms of pleasure, where they whirled
In wild unreasoning mirth, behold the splendid women of the earth
Living new selfless lives-the toiling mothers, sister, daughters, wives
Of men gone forth as target for the foe.
Ah, now we know
Man is divine; we see the heavenly spark
Shining above the smoke and gloom and dark
Which was not visible in peaceful days.
God! wondrous are Thy ways,
For out of chaos comes construction; out of darkness and of doubt
And the black pit of death comes glorious faith;
From want and waste comes thrift, from weakness strength and power,
And to the summits men and women lift
Their souls from self-indulgence in this hour,
This crucial hour of life:
So shines the golden side of this black shield of strife.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

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The Little Homes
We have heard the cheering, brothers,
We have heard the martial peal;
We have seen the soldiers marching
And the glint of sun and steel.
We have heard the songs, the shouting;
But, while forth the soldier roams,
Who has heard the weeping, brothers,
In the Little Homes?
We have seen the gay processions
And the careless, laughing crowds.;
We have seen the banners waving
Out against the peaceful clouds;
Yet, while colors proudly flutter
Over noble spires and domes,
Who has seen the mourning, brothers,
In the Little Homes?
From the Little Homes that nestle
Where the smiling fields sweep wide,
From the Little Homes that huddle
In the city, side by side,
They have called the eager fighters
Men who went with smiles and cheers;
Pride of wives and pride of mothers,
Choking back the tears!
Women of the little homesteads,
Women of the city slums,
They are waiting, ever waiting;
And the sound of muffled drums
In some stricken Home is echoed,
Where grey Grief is guest to-day.
And to-morrow? Nay, the others
Still must wait - and pray.
What the Little Homes shall suffer,
What the Little Homes shall pay
Must be more than sturdy fighters,
More than women's grief to-day.
In the years that follow after,
Be our battles won or lost,
In the Little Homes, my brothers,
They shall pay the cost.
They shall pay the cost of glory,
They shall pay the price of peace,
Years and many long years after
All the sounds of battle cease.
When the sword is sheathed - or broken
When the battle flag is furled,
Still the Little Homes must suffer
Over all the World.
Have you seen the old grey mothers
Smiling to the ringing cheers?
Have you seen the young wives striving
Bravely to hold back the tears?
Have you seen the young girl marching
By her soldier-lover's side?
Have you, seen our country's women
All aglow with pride?
Then, shall we think shame, my brothers,
To give thanks upon our knees
That the land we love should hold them
Wives and mothers such as these?
Women who still hide their sorrow
As their soldiers march away,
Turning brave and steadfast faces
To the light of day?
Oh, the Little Homes are Cheerful
Little Homes that know no pride
But the pride of sacrificing
Loved ones to the battle tide!
They are many, many brothers,
And their sacrifice is great.
Shrines are they and sacred places,
Where the women wait.
Aye, the Little Homes are holy
At the closing of the day,
When young wives must face their sorrow,
When grey mothers kneel to pray,
Facing, all alone, dread visions
Of the land the soldier roams,
Then God heed the sobbing, brothers,
In the Little Homes.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis

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The Peace Women Drum On Their Peace Drums
The Peace Women drum on their peace drums in hope that the war men may hear
The war men who wage war on others the influential bullies who live far from here
The bullies who wage their so called war on terror who themselves are responsible for brutal acts of shame
Yet the bombing and murdering continues despite the blame and counter blame.
The Peace Women drum on their peace drums and they sing in the sunlight of day
In hope the winds their peaceful message will carry the power of thought powerful they say
They drum for peace amongst Humankind and for an end to violence everywhere
The poor in war zones those who suffer and they drum for a World that's more fair.
The Peace Women marvellous people let's hope in their quest they succeed
For a peaceful and a better World their energy something we need
They drum and sing for the murdered war children and the mothers who mourn their loss
Their burden of sorrow is heavy they need help to shoulder their cross.
The Peace Women drum on their peace drums they are putting their message out there
Their message that may enlighten peace wreckers and their damaged souls may repair
They drum and sing in the park in the sunshine in the cool shadow of the trees
And their message of peace it is carried away in the freshening breeze
poem by Francis Duggan

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When Women Will Rule The World
When women will rule the World sadly i won't be around
My bones will be resting forever in some quiet dead person's ground
But what a World 'twill be to live in the flower of peace will bloom again
And for as long as women do rule the World peace in the World will remain,
For as long as men rule the World terror and warring will live on
They have not learned from the mistakes of past male leaders with men as leaders all hope of peace gone
When women will rule the World the World will be a better place to live in
Mothers will not have to weep for their dead children there will not be wars for to win,
Women give birth to the soldiers mothers do not want their children to die
A dead hero is better than a living coward that is if you believe a lie,
Women do not want their children fighting in wars far away
There would be less wars in the World if women had a greater say
And when women will rule the World war will be a thing of the past
The flower of peace will be blooming and beautiful peace it will last.
poem by Francis Duggan

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These Lost, These Come At A Cost Women
I see these city lights and flashy cars
These beautiful women lost under stars
These daughters and sisters and mothers
These lost women
These come at a cost women
Given a glance then a dance
Given the means to live by the fiends of these beautiful women
Lost in a daze of green
A daze I've seen
Spotlights on these beautiful women
Eyes on these and cheers for these beautiful women
Lies in these and fears in these lost women
These come at a cost women
Show, bought and ready to go
At a price higher then they know
These women worth more then gold
Priceless
But still sold
Oh these lost women
Don't you know your beautiful
Not hot women
That your beautiful
Not meant to be bought women
Beauty needs to be taught in these women
Instead of this that is not
Left in them to rot
Oh these beautiful women
These I've seen
Women whos pupils are all green
Men whos eyes are gazed in between wide thighs
Silent cries eventually taking its toll
Night after night eventually breaking the soul
I see these city lights and flashy cars
These beautiful women lost under stars
These daughters and sisters and mothers
These lost women
These come at a cost women
Don't you know your beautiful
Not hot women
That you’re beautiful
Not meant to be bought women.
poem by Bikramjyoti Kashyop

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Light of Peace Vavroovahana Patra
Light of peace pervades in a lovely family;
All family members live gladly.
Love reigns in the family;
Parents live peacefully.
Flower of peace blooms in a good family;
Daughters and sons live gaily.
Obey the advices of parents daily;
With fraternity brothers live cheerfully.
Daughters regard parent’s advices silently;
Rose of love blossoms in the garden of family naturally.
All live beneath the veil of Divine mother;
Singing devotional songs live with pleasure.
Family is a school of education;
Is mother’s beauteous creation.
Education begins in the family;
Obeying parents, sons and daughters live pleasantly.
Peace provides fraternity;
Lovely daughters, sons live with gaiety.
Peaceful family is a Heaven on Earth;
All members live with mirth.
poem by Vavroovahana Patra

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These Lost, These Come At A Cost Women
I see these city lights and flashy cars
These beautiful women lost under stars
These daughters and sisters and mothers
These lost women
These come at a cost women
Given a glance then a dance
Given the means to live by the fiends of these beautiful women
Lost in a daze of green
A daze I've seen
Spotlights on these beautiful women
Eyes on these and cheers for these beautiful women
Lies in these and fears in these lost women
These come at a cost women
Show, bought and ready to go
At a price higher then they know
These women worth more then gold
Priceless
But still sold
Oh these lost women
Don't you know your beautiful
Not hot women
That your beautiful
Not meant to be bought women
Beauty needs to be taught in these women
Instead of this that is not
Left in them to rot
Oh these beautiful women
These I've seen
Women whos pupils are all green
Men whos eyes are gazed in between wide thighs
Silent cries eventually taking its toll
Night after night eventually breaking the soul
I see these city lights and flashy cars
These beautiful women lost under stars
These daughters and sisters and mothers
These lost women
These come at a cost women
Don't you know your beautiful
Not hot women
That you’re beautiful
Not meant to be bought women.
©Copyright 2008
poem by Regan Mackenzie

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Ocean Of Fraternity Vavroovahana Patra
World peace comes through Ocean of Fraternity;
People on Earth live with Delight.
Women as Deities live delightfully;
Girls pass on the path gaily.
Fraternity enhances love affection;
Earth smiles with peace, beauteous is creation.
Hindus, Muslims, Christians pass on the same way;
Brotherly love pervades providing gay.
Innocent women in solitude roam freely;
Vergins smile, play gaily.
Women endowed with garland of Jasmines roam delightfully;
Lovers enchant gaily.
Fraternity is the key to success on world’s economical path;
People working unanimously live with mirth.
Fraternity repels enemity;
In a world of peace Earth smiles with delight.
Brothers unitedly progress the family;
Members of family live gaily.
Fraternity lies in sacrifice;
All the people of Earth live with Divine Bliss.
poem by Vavroovahana Patra

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Cost of Freedom
The night was cold,
But with bodies hot and roaring to go,
The skies black, filled with smoke and, lit with fire works,
But not the ones you want to see.
The 20 year old man writes to his love on a hard rock,
Telling her everything is alright and it’s over,
Now he can come home in peace.
30 years ago today, Jake sat on that bolder,
Witting a letter to a women that would become his wife.
Sipping his coffee, the clock strikes 8 am,
He knows its November 10, Th
The day of too many.
They had gone to bed for the night,
In steel bunkers, fires put out, and blankets over their bodies,
Guards right out side, so they can sleep all night without a fright.
Waking them all from dreaming in warm beds,
Was one more show, one more fight,
The enemy fireworks took many lives that night,
And within the presents of dawn,
Came the digging of many unmarked friends graves,
The friends that fought side by side for all those months,
Those same soldiers that will never make it home in peace.
Timer went off to get the cookies out of the oven,
Jake smiles, wipes the tears away from his eyes,
And says “these are for you Brad, you my best friend.
My war hero that didn’t come home in peace.
I am sorry your grave was one that was dug,
And for I bare the shovel.
One day we will walk side by side again.”
He knows the cost of freedom! Do you?
P.S.
thank you to all the men and women that made\make it so I can be free. thank you so much.
poem by Mrs. Cynosure

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ADORABLE ARE WOMEN AS MOTHERS (A Mother’s Day Acrostic)
Adorable are women as mothers!
Detestable when they can kill children;
Obtainable when purchased for a sum;
Reputable when they can reach great heights;
Amicable are women as sisters;
Believable are women when good wives;
Lovable are women as grand-daughters;
Enviable are women as daughters.
Acceptable when pining for some love;
Remarkable when sacrificing lots;
Exaltable when rearing children fine.
Worshipable for keeping peace at home;
Observable when attention-seeking;
Manageable when husbands earn enough;
Excusable for love of ornaments;
Notable for patience exemplary.
Accessible to children in their needs;
Sensible when fathers become drunkards;
Memorable for timely good advice;
Objectionable when pride and lust engulfs;
Terrible when seeking revenge on one;
Horrible as cruel mothers-in-law;
Enjoyable in love-making / romance;
Reliable amidst all kinds of strife;
Salvageable when shown some kind of love!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 5-4-2009
poem by John Celes

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Peace That Was Never Peace
Wars, famon, and hatred
That’s what our world’s full of today
Nothing but pain and suffering
That never goes away
‘We’re in a time of peace, ’ they say
But how can that be true
With news of war on every channel
The word peace just won’t do
People are being killed
By brothers, sisters, friends
People they thought cared about them
Are forcing their life to end
This is no time of peace
There are many who can prove it
There are baby’s dying, and children
And it’s all of us who do it
Where is our peace now
It’s gone, it is decieced
Our lives are filled with the lies
Of peace that was never peace
poem by Faith Offerman

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Ocean Of Affection Vavroovahana Patra
Mother’s love is an ocean of affection;
Earth is beautiful with mother’s creation.
Her love attracts sons and daughters;
In her lap they are sweet lovely creatures.
Earth smiles with mother’s dedication;
Mothers are innocent lovely women of creation.
Children derive peace serving mother;
They are Deities in the lap of creator.
Mother’s cosy face attracts day and night;
She is a Ganga of Purity and Delight.
Is a boo9k of inspiration;
Poet’s are renowned with mother’s benediction.
Mother’s affection Eternal on Earth;
She is an Ocean of Love and Mirth.
Is the incarnation of Tranquility;
Is a River of Delight.
Mother inspires to be great on Earth;
Serving the Mother glorious becomes human birth.
She toils hard for sons and daughters;
They are sweet lovely society’s creator.
poem by Vavroovahana Patra

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Wine, Women An Song
(coverdale/lord/marsden/moody/murray/paice)
I aint an educated man
As all you fleet street preachers know,
Its just the simple things in life
Get my motor running, ready to go
If I can make you smile
I will raise my glass,
An if you dont like it
Then, baby, you can kiss my ass!
You can tell me its wrong,
But, I love wine, women an song
Give me a good time woman,
An a love potion bottle of booze
cos I got a juke box heart
Full of honky tonk rhythm an blues
You better lock up your daughter, your sister too,
If get in my way, Im gonna rock an roll over you,
Aint nothing you can do
You can tell its wrong,
But I love wine, women an song
Wine, women an song, talking bout
Wine, women an song,
Wine, women an song,
Wine, women an song
You get what you can
But, dont take too long
Wine, women an song,
Give me a rock an roll band
With a mean an dirty blues guitar,
Take me to a dance hall palace
With a twenty four hour bar
Then you better lock up your daughter, your sister too,
If you get in my way, Im gonna rock an roll over you,
Aint nothing you can do
You can tell me its wrong,
But I love wine, women an song
Wine, women an song, talking bout
Wine, women an song,
Wine, women an song,
Wine, women an song
You get what you can
But, dont take too long,
Wine, women an song
Wine, women an song,
Wine, women an song,
Wine, women an song
You get what you can
But, dont take too long,
Wine, women an song
Wine, women an song
song performed by by Whitesnake

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Beautiful Girl Vavroovahana Patra
A sweet silvery silent Beauty Girl passes on the path;
Enjoying the beauty of Nature derives peace, mirth.
Loves all companions delightfully;
Loves parents devotionally.
Honey girl plays with companions peacefully;
Mind derives perennial peace gaily.
The Beauty of the Girl attracts neighbours;
Mind enchants with peace, pleasure.
Sweet lovely girl plays among companions gaily;
Provides peace to creatures.
Lovely girl is peaceful;
Her mind is delightful.
The girl prays Goddess Mangala in morn;
Mind derives peace in dawn.
She is a village Deity;
Beholding, all derive gaiety.
Innocent girl provides peace;
Praying Goddess Divine Bliss.
The girl plays on the river;
Derives perennial peace pleasure.
poem by Vavroovahana Patra

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Woman Vavroovahana Patra
Woman is a Ganga on Earth;
Is a rivulet of mirth.
Ganga mingles with Ocean enthusiastically;
Derives salvation delightfully.
Husband’s kiss, embracement is woman’s delight;
With peace she surrenders on the feet of Almighty.
The sweet souls derive peace and pleasure;
Are lovely creatures in the lap of Nature.
The new creation smiles delightfully;
Both praise God peacefully.
Woman is a Creator;
Is lovely family’s operator.
Women’s chastity, bravery dazzles in history in golden letters;
They inspire the nation providing pleasure.
Woman is a wonderful creature;
Tranquilises the weary lover.
Woman is respected in the society;
Is a paragon of Beauty.
Her love allures day and night;
Prays for husband on the feet of Almighty.
poem by Vavroovahana Patra

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Cool Black Women
What if BLACK WOMEN Were COOL
Could darken skin in shades like BLACK WOMEN
Maybe enlarge lips and hips the size of BLACK WOMEN
Might even speak in a venacular like BLACK WOMEN
Mimick some of the mannerisms of BLACK WOMEN
Mate and date Black Men, the counterparts of BLACK WOMEN
Adopt and raise Black Babies, like BLACK WOMEN do
poem by Royale ROYALE

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When I Talk And Think About Albert
sometimes
(did i tell you that this is my
favorite word?)
i am shocked by my own
ingenuity
(sometimes i equate it with
shallowness
a loquacious mouth of the river
falling upon
a rock and smashing its
hands on the
floor of the
earth)
i blame myself for
changing the meaning of a word
like the way
i am changing the meaning of
my life
(or perhaps the lives of
other people
around me)
creating landscapes
putting trees where there are
no mountain
putting talkative women
in the house where
the house is still a
thought
(a student wants to say
i am crazy
but there is also a doubt
whether i am
one
she has the wisdom of
keeping her
mouth in the silent
mode)
i am not stupid
not crazy i still know what right
is,
i can still tell you
who are those in the left
side of the
equation
one day
i redefined a poem
it need not be a house
with a door and
windows
i can simply be stairs
or path
it can simply be a star
on the roof
it can simply be a conversation
without a direction
like a Freudian dialogue on
the sofa
where comfort is actually
moving the paths
of meteors
with a broom and
light
(do you always talk
to achieve
fulfill a mission?
what is your mission?
what is your
purpose?)
women go to the market
buy some things
for the kitchen
they do not linger upon a
talk
men go to their work
thinking about their kids
most of the time
they do not bother about
work really
they also dwell in the bodies
of other women
about those nights away
from the eyes
of their wives
people have scattered minds
unto each other
they pretend that they are devoted
into something
worthwhile
kids go to school
carrying bags filled with books
that they do not bother really reading
if they have to be honest
about who they are
the only care for the games of their
minds in those
playgrounds and
play stations
what kind of world is this
there are only so few
that live
so many people are going to
the places of death
without really knowing
each step
the famous man (you know his name)
discovered the bomb
and from then own
they own all these countries of this world
he is the real meaning and so they claim
him to be
the only meaning of this world
a nuclear god
who cannot die in that history of pain
and misery
may his soul (if he has one)
rest in peace.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Power to the Women of the World
Power to the women of the world
Women with W for winners
Women with O for Order
Women with M for Movement and mothers of hope
Women with E for energy, everywhere, every time
Women with N for Necessity
Women of the world
Our struggle needs your attention
Our struggle needs your support
Your children in on earth have no future
Your children in in the wolrd will die, if you sit
Your children in in the world are dying
Your husbands are culturally polluted and they are dying
Your pots are blown by light air
Your fire have burned months ago
Your future is no more
But this is your time
Your time to rise Women of the world
Power to the women of the country
Power to women
Power
poem by Alex Lushaba

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Women s Strengths
(4/1/12)
Men and women are different in so many ways
Men sit in front of the t. v. ‘s to watch their games
Women will watch their soap operas if time permits
That's how they get their kicks.
It seems to me that this is their dreams
Men look to games for the power they seek
While women look for hearts that are tender and meek.
Men want the powers of fortune and fame
While women use their charms
for whatever they can gain.
It seems that we use each other for
Our own selfish reasons
But the women love to use their charms for the teasing.
Men may tend to use their physical strength
To put the women down
But women know how to use the strength
To turn it all around.
The LORD said: "the meek shall inherit the earth"
Is it the women who give us birth?
Are they really the meek of which he speaks!
Hmmmm I wonder!
I don't mean to put us men down
But I think they're the ones that wear the crown
We are the jokers in the kings court
(have you ever seen a female joker in the kings court?)
While they sat on their asses- enjoying what their mothers taught.
Now I must say this in the defense of men
We get what we want (and deserve) in the end.
So I leave these thoughts for the men and women to decide
Who is the meek? Which one will cry?
poem by Louis Rams

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Not here? Why?
By Ombuge Moses
You always here, there, everywhere
Everyone says so
I wish you were here
How can I bring you closer?
The people have you
But they embrace you not
Do they know you?
Yes!
They like you not!
Why?
Brothers fight
Fathers fight
Neighbors fight
Women Suffer
Children cry in pain
Peace here,
Peace there,
Peace everywhere,
Peace no where
Peace not finding
Why?
In the hustles
The bustles
The dust settle
The feet are tired
The cry is annoying
Women are killed
Children are slaughtered
My neighbor says there is no peace
Peace, where at thou?
Not here?
Why?
I touch my neighbor
I feel his warmth
I feel his heart beat
I realize he needs to live
To be with me
But the enemy is in him
He wants to kill me
He killed my daughter
My wife, she does not belong
Where are you
Peace, here I call
Everywhere!
Why?
Together we stand
The ground is peaceful
The soil keeps the life
The soil always welcome new germinates
Together we stand
Amidst we argue
Confront
Disagree
Conflict
Ster eotype
Separate
Disengage
Knowledge acquired
To hold
To find
To resolve
To accept
To bond
Everywhere, every time
As humans
Peaceful, to remain
But we are not!
Why?
Greed, lust confuse
We fight
We kill
My wife, stray bullet
The police so inhumane
They kill
To call, stray bullet
They shoot and denounce
They denounce, while shooting
What happened to humanity?
Peace be with you
Still awaits
Peace, where at thou?
Not here?
Why?
When?
How long?
What is your color?
When you come, to notice you
To hold you, to embrace you
Suffering to stop
Peace? Which direction?
I dropp my weapon
I am peaceful
He fists his weapon
He is the enemy
Is he human?
Can he feel peace?
Smell peace?
Be peaceful?
One day, some day, that future day
Peace be with you
Peace> Shalom.
poem by Ombuge M Moses

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Discredited
Three million women without mates
In lonely homes on earth!
And Cupid sighs at heaven's gates,
Where many a spirit ego waits
Its call again to birth.
Three million women, meant to be
The mothers of the race!
But when war reaps on land and sea
Its harvests for Eternity,
Poor Hymen hides his face.
I think Earth has discredited
Itself in God's good sight:
He does not care to have souls bred,
Where peace, and love, and joy are fled,
Until we set things right.
He meant earth for a Garden Spot
Where spirits could return,
And build new heavens as they ought;
And now behold! what men have wrought
By deeds that blight and burn.
So, vain the waiting egos quest
For pathways back to birth:
And vain the longing and unrest
In many a cheated mother breast.
God does not like the earth!
It must be cleansed and purified
Of selfishness and strife,
Of grasping greed and lust and pride,
Before He lets His Angels guide
The egos back to life.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

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