Visitor to 'Da Hood
He said he was 'representin'
The peeps,
Who digged life with breath fresh!
And eyes so cleared...
They sat on plateaus to beem.
And down upon them wisdom comes!
And down upon them with wit and grace,
Happiness appears to glow on their faces.
And connected to the divine,
They are!
By invisible vines...
Linked to sunkissed angels.
And said I was ready to join his clan!
'A 'clan' of what I thought?
A clan to change the man I am?
What clan is this?
And I dismissed anything evil.
And I'm sure my raised eye brow was witnessed?
Announcing again,
When he noticed my skepticsm,
Beginning to set in.
Behind a mask worn to hold back,
The laughter.
Again...
He said he was 'representin' the peeps.
And those peeps he said he represented...
Were not from our times!
He was not of ignorance at all.
'What did he mean by that? '
He smiled.
Did he know my thoughts?
Has he known them for a while?
In fact...
I don't believe he was ever introduced,
To an ignorance I was readying to produce!
How did he know it just like that?
And I had known it too well.
Years have I spent getting 'treatments'
Of all kinds!
Instantly,
I knew he was a visitor to 'da hood'
And 'representin'
Something that seems to be working!
Since I found no reason to insult him,
At all.
And he offered upon sight...
His respect for me first!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
When Sun Peeps
When sun peeps thru heaps of clouds
Lotuses blossoms with ray beams
East horizon echoes with bird chirpings
World awakens thru divine melodies
When sun peeps thru window
Dreams dissolved in the eyelid
Dew drops dances on the meadow
Morbid moods became placid!
When sun peeps thru curtain
Kissed the rosy cheeks of virgin
Raised the emotives of unknown origin
Created the beauty illumination
When sun peeps thru hut
Melted the life of rut
Created new life of gut
Transcends the life of hurt!
poem by Mula Veereswara Rao
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A sense of identity
Can I take your identity?
Ghanaian, Am I?
Do I take your identity?
Black American? Am I?
Whose name do I take?
An Ewe? Am I?
What name do I take?
An Anlo? Am I?
What clan do I belong?
Lafe? Am I?
Which clan do you belong?
Adzovia? Are you?
poem by Doris Dzameshie
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Coyote and Frog (Native American)
Coyote and his friends walked to a pond
But found Frog and his clan now living there.
“This pond is small for all of us, ” Frog said.
“ Find water of your own. We cannot share.”
“If you will let us drink our fill and bathe,
I’ll get you a warm blanket and a blue stone
That’s bigger than your fist, ” Coyote offered.
When Frog agreed, Coyote went for them alone.
Frog took the gifts and led them to the pond.
Later as they left Frog laughed, “Good trade! ”
In fact, Coyote stole the gifts from Thunderbird,
Now furiously tracking prints the thief had made.
Coyote returned next day to find the Frog clan dead.
He took his people to the pond. “Good trade, ” he said.
poem by Chuck Toll
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Failed Love-war
When their steadfast love
Waged war against the world
They never asked their religion
He never asked her
To change her religion
To change her name
At the culmination
Of the love- war against all
The universe
The Gods
He asked her
To wipe out the vermilion dot
On her fore-head
To break her bangles
To suit to his religion!
She stood with him
To wage war against
Her religion
Her beliefs
Her village diktat
Yet for a sublime love
Untained with religion
The caste or beliefs!
He commanded her
To immerse
In his religion, belief
And caste customs
And customs of the clan
The love converted her
To his religion, belief
And clan to keep
The nuptial knot intact!
He lost nothing for the love
But she lost everything for it
It was he who emboldened
Her to accept the Christ,
The prophet and Jahoa
With no discrimination
As the fundamentals took sword!
As the black shadows
Of disbelief crept in
She as defeated warrior
As the failed crusader
Abandoned and hood -winked
Asked him on parting:
Can you not love me
With no identity
But with the identity as women
Whom you found at first sight!
poem by Vadakkumpurath Ramesan
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Less Eccentric But Thoughtfully Provocative
Remembering those first decisions,
I had made for myself...
I can now admit to feeling awkward then.
I had no elder sibling to follow.
I was the oldest child in my clan.
And I noticed with me several experiments began.
I was expected to 'know' before I knew a thing.
I was expected to 'grow'...
To show my sister, Mimmie 'everything'.
And she knew she got the short end of the stick.
'You don't know what your're doing!
Do you? '
~Shut up! I'm two years older than you...
LITTLE girl.~
She hated me for that.
And I didn't care.
I hated we both were in that trap!
Of that I was young and too aware.
I made many mistakes!
I didn't know what I was doing.
The first born of a crew,
Is often blamed for what the other kids do!
And when I knew this was going to be my fate,
I flew!
Or I thought I could...
By taking a swan drive from the nest!
I had just turned 18...
When I joined the military.
Never again to say I was bored to death.
It took me years to land on my feet.
Since I kept knocking my head,
Against many tests I objected to in protest.
Remembering those first decisions,
I had made for myself...
I can now admit to feeling awkward then.
I had no elder sibling to follow.
I was the oldest child in my clan.
And I noticed with me several experiments began.
Even to this day I look for ways,
To be daring and more outrageous.
Although I like to perceive my actions to be,
Less eccentric but thoughtfully provocative!
And proud to say I am courageous.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Burial of Sir John Mackenzie
(1901)
They played him home to the House of Stones
All the way, all the way,
To his grave in the sound of the winter sea:
The sky was dour, the sky was gray.
They played him home with the chieftain's dirge,
Till the wail was wed to the rolling surge,
They played him home with a sorrowful will
To his grave at the foot of the Holy Hill
And the pipes went mourning all the way.
Strong hands that had struck for right
All the day, all the day,
Folded now in the dark of earth,
Veiled dawn of the upper way!
Strong hands that struck with his
From days that were to the day that is
Carry him now from the house of woe
To ride the way the Chief must go:
And his peers went mourning all the way.
Son and brother at his right hand
All the way, all the way!
And O for them and O for her
Who stayed within, the dowie day!
Son and brother and near of kin
Go out with the chief who never comes in!
And of all who loved him far and near
'Twas the nearest most who held him dear --
And his kin went mourning all the way!
The clan went on with the pipes before
All the way, all the way;
A wider clan than ever he knew
Followed him home that dowie day.
And who were they of the wider clan?
The landless man and the no man's man,
The man that lacked and the man unlearned,
The man that lived but as he earned --
And the clan went mourning all the way.
The heart of New Zealand went beside
All the way, all the way,
To the resting-place of her Highland Chief;
Much she thought she could not say;
He found her a land of many domains,
Maiden forest and fallow plains --
He left her a land of many homes,
The pearl of the world where the sea wind roams,
And New Zealand went mourning all the way.
poem by Jessie Mackay
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The belongingness
A man of my clan won;
I am conscious of my clan.
A man of my tongue won;
I am conscious of my tongue.
A man of my soil won;
I am conscious of my soil.
Can at all I dispense
With my belongingness?
26.09.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Bagpeep Billy
Bagpeep Billy was highstrung kid
Who blew his peeps to earn a couple of quid
He blew his peeps all day long
With stiff little fingers that were tough and strong
And his brother 'little willy' would tag along
With a cap in his hand
And a spurren on
Sometimes willy tapped, or sang along
But Bagpeep Billy had a frog in his throat
Had had a big honker
And couldn't float a lassie's boat
He was tone deaf
And hit the wrong nootes
And the peopled mocked
And the women jeered
But Billy kept playing
Til toon was cleared!
Not a farthing or a nickel
Or a dollar or a dime
Could STOP BAG PEEP BILLY'S
Heinious CRIME
Then the police and his Ma
Called Billy in
He was faced with a Fine
If he carried on with the Din!
His ma brought him whisky
In a flask of tea
But Billy kept on Blowing those peeps
For free!
The police took him in
Little Willy went home
And practised his fiddle in his room all alone
On his release Billy dismayed
To find no hero's welcome paving the way
So he cleared his throat and threw the darn peeps away!
yvette smith
poem by Yvette Smith
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A vampire's beauty
THE SUN SETS AS THE MOON RISES THE MEMBERS OF MY CLAN RISE FROM THE SHADOWS WE CLMB TO THE ROOFS OF OUR HOUSE AND HOWL AT THE MOON THEN THE NIGHTMARE BEGINS AGAIN FOR THESE MORTALS AS WE DESTROY THEM ONE BY ONE EATING THEIR INSIDES THEIR BLOOD DRIPS FROM MY FANGS I'VE BECOME THE ONE THING I WAS SUPPOSE TO DESTROY.WE RUN AND RUN FOR MILES IN SEACH OF FOOD OR VAMPIRES THE BLOOD OF A VAMPIRE DEALY TO MAN BUT DELIOUS TO US BUT AS WE FIND A VAMPIRE AWAY FROM HER CLAN I CONER HER BUT WHEN I SEE HER FACE I STARE INTO HER BEAUTIFUL BROWN EYES ASWELL AS HER NATURAL BEAUTY I GO FOR THE KILL BUT WHEN I DO SHE STARE RIGHT BACK INTO MY EYES I HEAR THE HOWL TO LEAVE FOR THE SUN IS RISEING AND WE CANT BE SEEN IN ARE WOLF FORM WE HEAD BACK TO OUR HOUSES AS ANGERY TEENAGERS BUT THE ONLY THING I WAS THINKING OF WAS THAT VAMPIRE AND HOW CAN WE KILL SOMETHING SO BEAUTIFUL BUT YET I REALIZED THAT VAMPIRE WAS THE ONE WHO KILL OUR LEADER THE WHITE WOLF MY ANGER IS BEENING UNLEASH BUT THE CLAN STOPS ME FROM TRANSFORMING AGAIN.
THE FOLLOWING NIGHT THE CLAN REGROUPS AT THE SAME LOCATION WERE A SAW HER WE TRANSFORM BACK INTO HUMANS BUT WE STAY HIDDEN HOURS GO BY SHE CAUGHT OUR SCENT SHE FALLS RIGHT FOR OUR TRAP WE FOLLOW HER AND WHEN WE CONERED HER I TRANSFORM BACK INTO A WOLF BUT WHEN I GO FOR THE KILL HER CLAN APPERS OUT OF NO WHERE WE WERE EACH IN A BATTLE BUT WHEN SHE STRIKES I STOPED HER AND BEAT HER BADLY IF ONLY I WOULD HAD CLAWED HER SHE WOULD HAD BEEN DEAD BY KNOW BUT I KEEP HER AS A PERSONER AND LET HER WATCH US DEVARE HER CLANS BY THE TIME WE'RE DONE THE SUN IS ALREADY RISEING WE DESCIED TO TAKE HER TO OUR UNDER GROND LAIR AND KEEP HER THERE UNTIL I DESCIED WHEN TO KILL HER AND SHE OPENS HER EYES AS WE BEGIN TO CHANGE BACK INTO HUMANS I CARRY HER TO THE LAIR THE ONLY THING I TOLD HER HERE JUST DRINK I CUT MY WRIST AND SHE BEGINS TO DRINK BUT AFTER SHE FINSH SHE PASSES OUT AND BEGAN TO COUGH OUT BLOOD. FOUR DAYS GO BY AND SHE WAKES UP A HUMAN NO LONGER A VAMPIRE BECAME WEAKER AND WEAKER BUT YET NO MORE DANGER WELL COME NEAR HER AGAIN FOR WHEN THE FULL MOON RISES AGAIN SHE'LL TURN INTO A WOLF THE EVERYSAME THING THAT HAPPENED TO HER HAPPENED TO ME AS THIS STORY ENDS I TAKE HER WITH ME OUTSIDE AND WE HOWL TO THE MOON AND TRANSFORM INTO WOLVES ONCE MORE AND THE HUNT BEGINS AGAIN.
poem by Micheal Diaz
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To The Frog Clan
This shall be the symbol of my clan
The slime of my ancestors
For those whose claim for life and prosperity
Is as prolonged as the length of the list found in the clan’s tree
This frog is your frog
It is part of the multitude
Taking the power of the ten rivers
Its croaking
Is the uproar against the loudest blur of the reigning rains
You are the frog like us
From water to land to grasses to marshes to trenches
Of this earth
We shall remain as the true descendants of the great frog
By our nature
We shall not go hungry
By the power of the longest tongue
By the secret poisons of our skins
By our rounded views
By our slime
By the strong clinging of our ties
We shall all be saved
From the great flood
May our dead ancestors
May the great frogs
Lead us to the most secure pond of our future lives
And may the frog in us
Give us the great leap
The great jump
Taking us to our dream
Our clear cool waters
Teeming with mashing marshes
And there
Dear loving frogs of this clan
Let all our croaking be one.
Let all our croaking be true.
Let our croaking be love.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Thank offering
The hunter draws his bow string back.
Then quick released the arrow flies
so fast the eye cannot keep track.
Pierced through the heart a young stag dies.
The clan will feast on meat tonight.
Their appetites well satisfied,
they praise the goddess of night
who keeps their wants and needs supplied.
These simple folk with simple ways.
a clan of hunter gatherers
are wise enough to offer praise
to the moon goddess: She who cares
for all her children man and beast
in gratitude for tonights feast.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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May...Be...A Bit Uneasy With the 'Peeps
I can understand,
You are overwhelmed and shocked.
Afterall...
It only has taken,
Fourty years or more...
For the activities of this environment to sink in.
Remember when they were first brought to your attention?
And you had stated then,
My comments were too negative to mention?
And today 'my' comments seem to flow from your lips.
With a cursing done that you can not resist.
Don't you think...
Your lack of communal unity,
Is too negative to mention?
I believe your comments are a repetitive visit!
Even though you seem to have a clear grasp,
Of the lingo!
*May...be...a bit uneasy,
With the 'peeps' that pop your 'pupils'.
Ya dig? *
Oooohhh...
I love the Spring.
Especially this time of the year.
Don't you?
*NOTE:
'Peeps'? Urban slang word usage for 'people'.
Sooo, an interpretation for that line where 'peeps' is used...
Would be as such:
* 'Maybe you are a bit uneasy with the people that open your eyes.
Do you comprehend? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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An Amazon clan aim
(An Amazon clan aim)
Drove of untamed splendid dames,
gallops behind a handsome hero;
femme warriors of an Amazon clan aim,
at the pulchritudinous guerrero.
Hmm...
Are you aware of his secret charm?
A handsome semi-god will enchant,
sightly Smyrna, arousing her alarm,
favoured he will receive her grant.
Queen of the Amazons, exquisite,
with her splendiferous posture,
deserved a strengthened opposite,
with a demonstrated composure.
So, he was their idolized Heracles,
robust to implement his manly laws;
while all day was riding his bicycles,
to keep in form and be their boss.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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The EDiots of the Yahweh Clan
The Yahweh Clan love
innocent people to attack.
Though most of them are
drunks and smoke crack.
Their breed of racism must
come to an end.
Handicapped children and minorities
they hurt and offend.
Though sick, sad and lonely
They are nobody's friend.
For them the long arm of the law
is right around the bend.
Who knows next,
what they will try to hurt or do.
Added all together 22
is their combined I.Q.
We all now realize
despite their denials.
That they are nothing more
than disorganized pedophiles.
From sub7 to dirk
and from Mikey to Troy
they attack so called pedos
while suppressing their love for young boys.
So stay away from them
take my advice, you'll do well
The YouTube Yahweh clan
for eternity burn in hell.
poem by Johnny Law
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Once upon a time
My song concerns a buried grief
Another place and time
A sorrow that our clan endured,
In the days of Auld ang Syne.
Our parents’ lives hold mysteries
We seldom can divine
Like why my Dad would leave the room
When he’d hear Auld Ang Syne
The faces at the table change
The names effaced by time
We struggle to remember them
Back once upon a time
His sister, Kat, nursed old and sick
In the Flu Pandemic times
Then her bright candle sputtered out
Back once upon a time.
When her father heard the news
He nearly lost his mind
He never after sang again
And seldom would he smile
Her brother up in Aberdeen
Heard as New Year Chimed
He dried his tears upon his sleeve
To the strains of Auld Ang Syne
The faces at the table change
The names effaced by time
We struggle to remember them
Back once upon a time
poem by John F. McCullagh
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Who Peeps On The Peeper?
Who peeps on the peeper?
God.
Who else keeps the peeper peeking,
But God.
Who doesn't get a wink of sleep...
As those who seek to take a peek.
Believing what is done they do,
Is out of sight.
And out of God's reach.
Thinking lessons learned...
God does not teach.
Who peeps on the peeper?
God.
Who else keeps the peeper peeking,
But God.
Who doesn't get a wink of sleep...
As those who seek to take a peek.
Believing what is done they do,
Is out of sight.
And out of God's reach.
Thinking lessons learned...
God does not teach.
Who doesn't get a wink of sleep?
God!
Who peeps on the peeper?
God!
Who doesn't get a wink of sleep?
God!
Who peeps on the peeper?
God!
Who peeps on the peeper?
God!
Who doesn't get a wink of sleep?
God!
Who peeps on the peeper?
God!
Who doesn't get a wink of sleep?
God!
Who peeps on the peeper?
God!
Who doesn't get a wink of sleep?
God!
Who doesn't get a wink of sleep?
God!
Who doesn't get a wink of sleep?
God!
Who doesn't get a wink of sleep?
God!
Who doesn't get a wink of sleep?
God!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Be true of your clan
The woman I loved,
The only woman
If I ever loved,
Is, by accident, she,
Who is very much a doe,
Too frail, too fragile,
Too timid and too shy
To live up to her desire.
As meek as a mouse,
Whom how to arouse?
That woman I loved,
A respectful class,
And my dear brass,
Is, by accident, she,
Who is of a clan, a clan
Known for supremacy
Of women in their affairs,
Where her will prevails,
And where her desire is ultimate,
Her man is to subordinate.
When will you gain
Your supremacy,
That now is latent
And potent in you?
When will you tear
Your fear and shear
Your barrier, my dear?
Till then, till then,
I am at your doorstep.
Just a call. All the bliss.
11.06.99
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Lord Is His Devotees' Slave
Whatever is a devotee's
caste, clan, family, or name,
Rama's love for him is the same.
Beggar and king
are one to him.
Say, of what caste could be
Brahma or Shiva?
Rama will never abide
in the egotistic man's heart
therefore his slave, Suradasa,
has abandoned pride.
Rama was born in the Raghu clan
Krishna found his home in Gokula.
Words fail to tell of
the Lord's love
universal, all-embracing;
Dhruva was a Kshatriya,
Prahlada a demon and Vidura the son of a maid:
yet the Lord gave them his supreme love,
Krishna washed the devotees' feet
at the Rajasuya.
The Lord is the slave
of his devotees
age after age.
The tongue can't relate
his countless deeds.
Says Suradasa, the Puranas and Vedas
are witness to these.
poem by Sant Surdas
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Remittance Man
Sinner on the mainland
Hes a sinner on the sea
He looks for absolution
Not accountability
How many destinations
Oh God hes seen them all
He collects his precious pittance
Never a port of call
Remittance man
Blacksheep of the family clan
Broke too many rules along the way
Remittance man
So far away from home
No theyll never understand
The remittance man
A man of empty pockets
From jingling his change
The idleness and grieving
For all that he retains
By the harbour lights of sydney
Or the bora bora moon
He recites his sad confession
To the seagulls and the loons
Remittance man
Blacksheep of the family clan
Broke too many rules along the way
Remittance man
So far away from home
No theyll never understand
The remittance man
Well you can claim that you were born a prince
But youre the only one you can convince
Survivor with no livelihood
That you could ever make it good
But still you dream of what you can pretend
An unexpected passenger
Boarded in marseilles
An angel full of tenderness
She gave her heart away
She was but a gypsy
He was just a stray
They almost made a miracle but it slowly slipped away
So he follows the equator
With a wish to run aground
Its a very vicious circle
Goin round and round and round
And he watches from the fantail
As the mainland disappears
Just like the flying dutchman
Hes a prisoner of his fears
Remittance man
Blacksheep of the family clan
Broke too many rules along the way
Remittance man
So far away from home
No theyll never understand
No theyll never understand
No theyll never understand
The remittance man
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Sacrifice storypoem
She wore a robe so white and thin
that it enhanced her nakedness.
Made of the silk which spiders spin
Epitome of gracefulness
Her hair as black as ebony,
contrasting with her rose gold skin.
Which unrestrained was flowing free
She glowed as though she had within,
her slender form of flesh and blood.
A light that would illuminate
the darkness of the world and would
without a doubt propitiate.
The Gods demanding sacrifice.
According to the High Priests rede,
only a virgin would suffice.
To satisfy his dark Gods need.
The clan believed his rede was true
And so she went quite willingly.
To pay the God What he was due
ad so ensure fertility.
of flocks and crops, increase their yield.
Improve the clan’s prosperity
In truth the High Priests rede concealed
his innate taste for cruelty.
She lay upon the altar stone
and showed no slightest sign of fear.
The high Priest bared his blade of bone
and then although the sky was clear.
A bolt of lightning from the blue
struck down the priest as he deserved.
The Goddess had decided to
insist her rules should be observed.
The maiden lived and she became
in course of time the high priestess.
She governed in the goddess’ name
Rewarded for her faithfulness.
The wicked high priest had to die
because he had led the clan astray.
A truth that no one can deny.
The high priestess would lead the way.
The Goddess would protect the clan
as long as they obeyed her laws.
Though she would strike dead any man
whose bad behaviour gave her cause.
The Mother Goddess would supply
sufficient for her children’s need.
As long as they lived righteously
and followed her High Priestess’ lead
The willing sacrifice became
the chosen of the true Goddess
and now held power in her name.
Authority to curse or bless.
She serves her clan still faithfully
as she was always willing to
Speaks for the Goddess honestly,
does as the Goddess bids her do.
Willing to die to serve her clan.
The Goddess decreed that she should live
to implement the goddess’ plan.
And claimed the life she chose to give.
She’d live a life of servitude
as guardian of the sacred lore.
A mother to the multitude
who looked to her to keep the law.
Chosen to be a sacrifice
Which she accepted willingly
the goddess changed things in a trice
which she could do quite easily.
Though she would sacrifice her life
to serve the clan for all her days.
Forgo the chance to be a wife
to follow in the goddess’ ways.
6-Dec-08
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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