Grandma Knew What She Put Into the Oven
Crime is rampant
Children are out of control
Corruption is mainstream
Mental chaos is the norm...
And the people say
How could this be?
Where were they upon this delivery?
'Someone' had to want what's going on!
If they did not...
These things would not exist!
People only have what they want.
When did it occur to them,
These disturbances were not of their making?
Even grandma knew what she put into the oven!
She had to!
Sometimes I was there when she took it out!
She might have left the stove on once or twice...
But someone was always there to turn it off!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sick Judgements
There is nothing that says
People have to prove they have no clue
As to what they are doing.
There is nothing to get them jailed,
For playing the roll of idiot overtime.
How they land in positions of decision making,
Should break all of our hearts.
Surrealistic 'realities' are becoming the norm!
Freaks, geeks and weirdness has become mainstream.
Children can now download porno on a phone that buzzes...
Or rings,
Or plays loud music that makes some want to scream!
And some old man sitting alone in a convalescent home,
Staring out the window...
Will declare these years we now live as the good years,
When flashbacking to these times!
Glorifying the days of corruption,
And imitating how he too dealt with crime!
And today...
This circus has some folks,
Justifying this 'crap' in their minds!
Playing truth or dare,
With a peace no one can find!
But every dime is being sucked up...
In search for ways to make it happen!
There is nothing that says
People have to prove they have no clue,
As to what they are doing...
When something they do,
Is screwing it up for me and you!
But there should be a limit placed
On the number of psychiatrists,
Who are hired as policemen...
To maintain a law and order,
That has clearly become a nightmare
Wherever sick judgements are made!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Silver
Nirvana- Silver
Mom and dad went to a show
They dropped me off at Grandpa Joe's
I kicked and screamed, said please don't go
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Had to eat my dinner there
Mashed potatoes and stuff like that
I couldn't chew my meats too good
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
She said, well, don't you start your crying
Go outside and ride your bike
That's what I did, I killed my toe
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
After dinner, I had ice cream
I fell asleep and watched TV
I woke up in my mother's arms
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
I wanna be alone
song performed by by Nirvana
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Corruption Is Global
Corruption is a global phenomenon
It has gained in roads into every sphere and level
People are so fed up of the monster
It is high time, it must be destroyed
Corruption is so rampant
It poisons every society
Sparing none in its wake
The common man most suffers
Corruption is an incurable disease
It cannot be wiped out but curbed
Politics and governments thrive by it
The end of the road is unclear
poem by John Celes
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To Redefine A Re-alignment Of Things
To redefine a re-alignment of things to come,
To do to get done with a fresh outlook...
That appears to be organized and knowledgeable,
Is to know how to bake a cake from scratch.
But the itch to do that and deliver an accepting taste,
Seems not to be of benefit and too much of a waste...
For those who wish to lead with grandma's old recipes.
And with outdated sentiments too stale but used.
Even they are trying to find sense to make...
In times when the eating of cake,
Can not be faked...
For those demanding what has been promised,
From those making promises who have never been honest.
As an unbelievable heat increases in the kitchen.
And although they are dressed to make impressions,
No one knows a thing about the use of an oven or stove.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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An Indian Dream Comes True
The war against corruption has begun!
It cannot end in scheduled time in years;
A beginning that’s good is work half-done;
But thanks to Anna, his Think-tank and seers!
Corruption is ingrained in people’s hearts;
The weed has grown wide-spread throughout the lands;
It can’t be wiped away, despite efforts;
It needs a change of attitude, strong hands!
Corruption is a love for easy wealth;
No one’s immune from habit that’s so rife;
The habit gains every person by stealth;
It hurts the poor, down-trodden’s heart like knife!
United, war against the menace works;
Democracy needs cleansing from its sores;
When left as such, society, it well irks;
It enters houses, homes by windows, doors!
One Bill cannot contain the rampant strife;
All citizens must fight the habit, crime;
Nevertheless, it can improve one’s life;
Only then, nations progress with more time!
Corruption is not something with a cure;
Beyond a point, we need not it endure;
Nevertheless, many hearts it does lure;
The menace can be mitigated, sure.
(Dedicated to Anna hazare, his team and all honest Indians/27-08-11)
poem by John Celes
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The Great Gift Of Youth
The great gift of youth is a thing to enjoy
And the crimes of the man are not the crimes of the boy
That all children are innocent to all children apply
And why we lose our innocence don't ask me why?
That time changes us as people does seem sad to say
We lose our youthful innocence as we grow old and gray
And some even become more hardened with the passing of time
Lose respect for self and others and turn to crime.
Any crime against children cannot be seen as small
And the abuse of a child one of the greatest crimes of all
Any crime against a child a hard crime to forgive
Those who commit such crimes with their sins have to live.
It's praises the singers and Songwriters sing
For the great gift of youth is a marvellous thing
And sad to say some children at a young age have innocence stole
From them by damaged adults who lack in self control.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Broken Girl
The light is fading faster
as her life begins
to go
the darkness comes
as her life slowly
slips away
her demons have risen
they've taken control
she's not the girl
she used to be
The girl with the
smile, the
girl with the
laugh
That girl is gone
she has died off
she left this day
the day of an honest
mistake
a mistake she will
have to die for
for her grandma will
soon know
they don't see it
for they don't know
the wrath of her grandma
they think the grandma's
sweet
they say she's not that way
She says her grandma will
take
everything she holds dear
they say they don't believe it
they say that its not true
little do they know
her grandma is of a nature
where she will take all
from the girl
all because of one
mistake
the girl will loose it all
the girl you knew will
be long gone
for she must say good-bye
all to soon you will
meat the girl she
really is
for all to soon her masks
shall drop
all to soon she will
reveal all
the masks shall drop
and many will see
just how broken that girl
really is
to soon they will see
that girl is
me
(written 9/29/10)
It's very simple. If the American people care about a lot of things including corruption in government, then, in fact, if you use the power to appoint in order to do political business, to clear fields, to save your party money and so on, if it's not a crime - and I believe it is - it certainly is business as usual, politics of corruption.
quote by Darrell Issa
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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‘I’m Anna! ’ - Movement: Poem on Corruption in India
The poor become poorer each day
The rich turn richer every way
Corruption is the cause that may
Prevent a nation’s progress, Aye!
Corruption rules the world in ways
Indiscernible yet, always;
The common man’s heart, mind and face
Reveals the menace in each case
Corruption wears so many masks;
The corrupt in lucre’s sun basks;
All accept it and no one asks,
‘Why burden-some turn daily tasks? ’
Corruption has gone too rampant;
It runs amok like an elephant;
The poor man’s life is like an ant;
Mass rallies slogans only chant.
The war to curb corruption’s on;
Good youth in India have been born;
The people get gleanings of corn,
While sheaves in rich men’s homes adorn.
Corruption’s the cause of price-rise;
Share-markets play a game like dice;
Taxes have grown mammoth in size;
A tax-payer ashamed then dies.
Which leader will then stem this rot?
– Democracy is badly caught;
The fight must be much bravely fought
Till freedom after Freedom’s got!
Dedicated to ‘ I’m Anna! ’ movement hero in India
Shri. Anna Hazare
Copyright by Dr John Celes 21-08-11
poem by John Celes
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No One Feels Safe
The world is so full of crime these days.
People murder and are set free.
No one feels safe anymore.
They always lock their doors,
afraid to come out.
Crime is rampant, and justice
is not served.
poem by Ruth warren
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Don't Risk Your Biscuits
Don't risk your biscuits.
Keep those biscuits mystic.
If they're found delicious,
Keep the people licking their lips.
Do not risk those biscuits,
For suggestions or tips.
From others who just want them to be,
Buttered and split!
When you took them out the oven,
You knew then the flavor would...
Bring joy to some.
Like no others had done.
And when they jellied up those biscuits,
With a favorite beverage...
A stirring had begun.
Making your biscuits their number one.
Do not risk those biscuits,
For suggestions or tips.
From others who just want them to be,
Buttered and split!
Eaten and enjoyed.
Making a habit of it!
You can choose and decide,
If you want them addicted!
But...
When you took them out the oven,
You knew then the flavor would...
Bring joy to some.
Like no others had done.
So...
Don't risk your biscuits.
Keep those biscuits mystic.
If they're found delicious,
Keep the people licking their lips.
Knowing only you,
Can do these biscuits like this!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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But how long will this peace last
The night that peace comes
torches are launched into the sky
like stars
to glide hanging to the ground
and as far as I look
I see fireworks near and far,
but how long will this peace last?
Nelson Mandela walks out of jail
and there are people cheering
and dancing from joy
and some think
that now they are totally free,
but how long will this peace last?
His rainbow nation disappears
into the naught
and although the sun still shines
work are reserved for some
and people begin to leave the country
while others from all over Africa stream in
and South Africans are jobless,
but how long will this peace last?
There are incapable people getting positions
and the country goes years back
and murder and killings
are totally out of control
and the police are powerless
to stop it,
but how long will this peace last?
The government takes legal firearms in
while crime spreads wider
and the state are trying to control lives
more and more
and corruption, fraud, rape,
murder and robbery
happens every day,
but how long will this peace last?
l’Envoi
The slaughter of black on white
and robbery are urged on
and reverse racism
talked good
and the country is in chaos
with incapables controlling it
and the dilapidation nobody can stop
but how long will this peace last
before the country
gets another hell of a war?
poem by Gert Strydom
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Curius
In our lives we will kiss people we do not love,
We will make love and yet think of another,
We will turn off when we should have turned left,
We will search for things that do not exist,
We will question things we will never find answers to,
We will open doors that must not have been opened,
We will betray people and the live regretting it,
In our lives we might even attempt the imposible,
All these not because we could, we were curius
poem by Isunge Mwangase
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The Sad Caper
I know she said
Before you left me you were free
So Ill just lay me down
Control has left me
And I cant feel another thing
So let me turn around
Do you really want to play these games
Just to keep things going
Or are you ready now to let it be
Its like sometimes you want to see the rain
But the sun gets in your eyes
And you want to die now
Control has left me
And I cant feel another thing
So let me turn around
I see I see
But things just couldnt be the same
So let me hold you down
Never let me down I swore to you
But now I lied
Im here to make it all seem worth while
You want I know
But Ill have to try
To find a way to make me quiet now
Control has left me
And I cant feel another thing, so let me turn around
I see I see
But things just couldnt be the same
So wont you hunt her down
I know she said
Before you left me you were free
So Ill just lay me down
song performed by by Hootie & The Blowfish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Not Too Many Moons Ago
Not too many moons ago,
There seemed to have been...
Peace mentioned and wanted.
And not too many moons ago,
Separate shores on lands adored...
People were swift,
To settle their disturbances.
And it seemed just yesterday,
Values enriched...
Quickly drifted away.
And here we are today...
With corruption and conflicts,
Betraying everyone's wishes.
Ending desires...
For a united world that aspires,
To heights that advances.
But instead romances,
Attractions for attack...
In a collective feedback.
And it seems as a fact that...
Not too many moons ago,
There seemed to have been...
Peace mentioned and wanted.
And not too many moons ago,
Separate shores on lands adored...
People were swift,
To settle their disturbances.
But...
All of that,
With desires intact...
Has lost any decisive,
And concrete meaning.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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War Vets Dream
When he came from Nam he had a plan
That not many people would understand.
To help children see that not all in life
Was destruction and poverty.
With death and bombings all around
All he could hear was the children s sounds.
With tears in their eyes and not understanding why
Why so many bodies on the ground
And not a one making a sound.
All he could see was these faces of despair
Children did not understand and could not care.
These visions of the war would
always stay in his mind
From that day forward till the end of time.
He vowed that he would do all that he can
To help all children and his fellow man.
When you see the ravages of war
And a country torn apart
And its people scattered
Then staying alive is all that matters.
He knew that he could not stop this genocide
But he knew for the future children he had to try.
He wanted to create a place called “children s world”
A safe haven for every boy and girl.
A place where children could be children
And war they would not see.
Where they could be with friends and their families.
A place with a roof over their heads
Hot food and a bed.
He knows with time this dream will come true
“It just depends on people like you.”
poem by Louis Rams
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Corruption rampant
No body is there to serve the people.
Are the common people not necessary?
Are the common people burden of the state?
The act the law the rules the regulation
Are of no use for the common people.
The common people are in no way
connected with the main stream of the state.
Corruption rampant everywhere
No body bother about anything
No body bother about the state.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Where is the Justice?
Smother! !
A house filled with pain
Bottled up emotions
Afraid and worried or her children
Soothing and comforting
For what the end result would be
The mental, emotional and physical abuse
Obviously to break down
Making life hell for her even at school
Who was to know?
That his jealousy would lead to this
A true story
Of how clergy would lie for the wrong of their colleagues
They met at a school
He a teacher and she the secretary
She was the ideal wife and mother
A daughter in a million
On that fateful day he struck with intention
For many days
Police, family and friends in search of her
A crime committed in front of their children
Her body found in the ceiling of their home
Through a single character witness he was exonerated
Their cover up of a crime
Their hypocrisy
How can they lead a people?
poem by Persian Khushi
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How Do We Change?
Dear ladies, and gentlemen.
I will not save you or be your business partner.
I am a hateful American when it comes to certain issues.
I am not a trusting at all.
I'm as flawed as the next human being.
These letters you keep sending me will not change me.
The irony is I would love to be humanitarian.
But without the financial backing.
It will never happen.
I must change things with words.
And knowledge that keeps me up at night.
Thinking about the next thing I must do.
And again you tell me story so sad and it is most likely true.
But denied by your government.
For what you speak of is not suppose to exist.
Unofficial is a word I understand all to well.
For politics have a way of making things disappear.
Fear is a dangerous thing when it is not in their hands.
They use it, but don't want to be a victim of it.
Propaganda, by denial is the name I shall give this.
It pisses me off, makes me angry that truth is as much a weapon as lies.
Where does it end?
When do your country men come to defend?
Up hold a name so proud.
This is who we are.
This is what we stand for.
We sleep among the streets.
We know of no homes.
An higher education lacking.
A constant hunger for food we don't have.
Crime and violence rampant.
Corruption shovelled up and thrown in your face.
Knowing of no escape.
How do we change?
This is a question I ask all.
For the answer are not simple.
They never are.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Illogical?
there will always be rules
that is why
there will always be
violations
there will always be laws
and so the criminals
exist
there will always be corruption
because we make it so
destroy the laws
erase the rules
make corruption
a way of life
let anarchy rule
let us see
who wins this game
legalize corruption
do there will be no
crime
have a bidding
of the election
so there will be
no vote-buying
this may be illogical
but these are all real
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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