Murmurs Of A Tired Academician
in the far village
the mob rules, the
majority are not
educated, and they
build cockpits near
the church to shame the
priest, and on some religious
hours, they put the cocks into
that grand fight, and they shout
and stamp their feet
until their own Christ declares
who the winner is
meanwhile the lonely man
puts into writing what
he cannot really understand
why the undesirable is famous
why the vices prevail
why fights are exciting
the men come out from the
cockpit
smelling sweat and
taking dead fighting cocks
and losing money
and when they arrive
to their homes
there is nothing to eat
and tomorrow there
is nothing to spend
the violence of vices
the silence of so few
the death of a good education
the triumph of drunkenness
when you bring this out
in the open
the mob shall kill you
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
Couple Of Chicken Religious Meal
The couple of chicken religious meal
On the ruwatan of my mother
Offering to me
8. Couple Of Chicken Religious Meal
I left the hen one at my grandma house
and bring the cock going home
after arrive at home
that cock
I bring everywhere
aver meet the another one
keep fighting with my cock and win
sometime meet with the cockfighter
neighbour, who have gerobak repair house
where they iron for
and teakwood for
in the center field
they fight my cock and theirs
the winner is always my cock
Their face look very regretful
And they offering to bought my cock
I avoid
And tomorrow eveing, when I went home from school
I found my cock foot
He stay and asleep in my house corner
My cockfoot had injury was harpooned
I care with garlic, not yet recover
I care with peniciclin, not
a week after that cock dead
I cry for the whole day
I don’t understand adult will won theirself
they dont understand, that is not just a cock
But a cock for religious meal in the ruwatan of my mother
My grandma gift
poem by Prasetya Utama
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Sonnet: Living Wisely On Earth
I may remain a fool on earth altho’,
’Tis deliberately done you ought to know;
I can’t just live the way others want me,
For theirs isn’t the way to Eternity!
For money’s sake I can’t change my nature;
For transient joys, can I vices nurture?
The art of earthly life is to be good,
And search for God without losing one’s mood!
What if I gain the world losing my soul?
‘Do good and shame the devil’- is my goal;
This world I see is not a perfect one;
The sins we commit can sometimes us stun!
If happiness I can get on this earth,
Where is the need to seek the other Mirth?
poem by John Celes
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Big Brother
Open Up Your Mind And Let Some Thought Inside Open Up Your Mind As They All
Survey 4 Out Of 5 And They All Survey 4 Out Of 5 And They All Survey Open Up
Your Mind And Let Some Thought Inside Open Up Your Mind As They All Survey
And In This Time Of Free Thought It'd Be A Shame To Let It Rot Open Up Your
Mind As They All Survey When You're All Alone You'll Never Wanna Know Open Up
Your Mind As They All Survey 4 Out Of 5 And They All Survey You Gotta Let
Some Thought Inside As They All Survey Caught Between The Parallels Of Life
And Death And Compromises Fill The Hours With New Vices Voices Screaming Time
Is Numb Single File Come And Follow Choosing Futures From Brochures Changing
Channels No Opinion Losing Track Which Way Is Up Use Your Head For What It's
There For Though Not One In The Same Receptive Minds Co-operate Do Not
Dissect The Human Race Make One United Higher Plain And In This Time Of Free
Thought It'd Be A Shame To Let It Rot Open Up Your Mind And Let Some Thought
Inside Use Your Head
song performed by by Mushroomhead from Superbuick
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Upon the Silent Woman
Hear, you bad writers, and though you not see,
I will inform you where you happy be:
Provide the most malicious thoughts you can,
And bend them all against some private man,
To bring him, not his vices, on the stage;
Your envy shall be clad in some poor rage,
And your expressing of him shall be such,
That he himself shall think he hath no touch.
Where he that strongly writes, although he mean
To scourge but vices in a laboured scene,
Yet private faults shall be so well express'd
As men do get 'em, that each private breast,
That finds these errors in itself, shall say,
'He meant me, not my vices, in the play.'
poem by Francis Beaumont
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His True Church
I know many religious people, and one Church with no steeple,
A church that’s built with no walls, built on only believing souls,
Built upon an Eternal Foundation, that being our very Salvation,
Built upon The One Cornerstone, and that is Jesus Christ alone.
Many, who worship in a building, to Truth alone, are unyielding,
Building a church on tradition, God’s Truth, with man’s addition,
Added to the work finished by, Jesus Christ who reigns on high,
Ignoring His words “it is finished”, Grace by many is diminished.
Men making a way to Heaven, not by grace but religious leaven,
Building church in a human way, as they lead many souls astray,
As many souls weekly perch, in the pews of a manmade church,
Relying on their religious activity, to help them work into eternity.
“I will build my Church” He said, that was Christ, who is the Head,
Head of His True Church on earth, filled with souls, by New Birth,
All members being Born Again, into His Church, not one of men,
You’ll find, you no longer search, as a member of God’s Church.
Jesus is the Way, Truth and Life, as Head of the Church of Christ,
And each of us is a living stone, built through faith in Christ alone,
His Church He proceeds to build, to complete as His Father willed,
Leading the only True Church friend, as others shall see in the end.
Life of a Roman Catholic Priest
A priest is nearest Christ;
A priest is Christ at times;
A priest is almost Christ;
A priest is most divine.
A priest is God’s shepherd;
A priest must tend to flock;
A priest must be like ‘rock’;
A priest should ne’er defrock.
A priest communes with God;
A priest draws hope from Lord;
A priest shows love of Christ;
A priest carries His Cross!
A priest is tempted too;
A priest has falls in life;
A priest falters also;
A priest has strength from Christ.
A priestly job is tough;
A priest’s life can turn rough;
A priest has strife enough,
But has to smile and laugh!
A priest helps harvest souls;
A priest has many roles;
A priest has but one goal –
To drink from Christ’s own bowl!
Pray that more priests should come;
May priests curb their freedom;
May priest usher Kingdom;
A life for Christ’s welcome.
Fondly dedicated to Rev. Fr. Xavier Claudius,
Beloved Parish priest, ‘Holy Family Church, Perundurai
Copyright by Dr John Celes 25-7-2010
poem by John Celes
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Educate Woman
To educate a woman is to educate a nation
Do not deprive the woman of education
Do let her know what she is to mention
Wherever she goes throughout the nation
Let her use skill in estimation
Let her learn what is real; not hallucination
Give her a chance to get that that salutation
Which men do get because of education
A woman that has much education
Will teach her children motivation
She’ll train them to support the nation
They’ll always have the best of intention
Knowledge is essential in every institution
The family too needs education
The woman’s own is more to mention
Educated women save the nation
When a woman excels in education
That woman can then build a mansion
A real estate not imagination
All because of worthy education
Fellow women I need your attention
Let seeking for knowledge be your aspiration
Stick to it with all devotion
Absence of knowledge causes indignation
A woman too observes the nation
She knows what goes in and out in motion
For her to be accurate in observation
A woman needs some sort of intuition
Think of knowledge with deep emotion
Illiterates know nothing but mere illusion
A strong nation is built by education
Illiteracy burns and destroys a nation
A nation in a fatal situation
Needs educated men and women in combination
Support them in their various occupations
They’ll unite and be strong and build the nation
Illiterate women are easy preys for seduction
They live in houses of corruption
Making money quickly is their desperation
A rich man’s camp is their destination
An educated woman has a good reputation
She does not support that which leads to deterioration
Her aim is not to cause commotion
She supports and fights to build the nation
An educated woman uses skill in communication
When she talks she corrects a situation
She’ll disconnect all those bad connections
She’ll not be bribed she hates corruption
Knowledgeable people working in collaboration
Do not employ those without education
They are not included in their collection
Same happens to women with no education
Knowledge is essential it is an obligation
Men, women both need education
Knowledge destroys all bad solutions
Education, knowledge saves the nation
poem by Saudatu Kabir
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All Ghosts...
the town as usual
misses the noise of the
microphone
wanting to see boxing
bouts not just during
the Feasts
but also on ordinary days
the is only second
to gambling
these fighting cocks
that dominate
the itinerary
of the month and all
the poor men gather
and try their luck
to get rich
even for a day
the church is nearby
and its bells are silent
copy paste
the silence of the
cemeteries
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Wind Of Silence Is A Wind Of Violence
The wind of silence has become a wind of violence
Guns for war, guns for ones own protection
For some satisfaction, for others lack of affection
Children playing Russian roulette with their feet
Its not even safe anymore walking in the streets
The wind of silence is a wind of violence
Our future will be a reflection
Of our own segregation of the old generation
Lonely hearts lost in desperation
Not one or two, but a whole civilization
The wind of silence has become a wind of violence
The present, the future or the past. What would you choose?
Or shall I say: What have we to lose?
If we want our children to be happy and proud,
Then we have to shout and shout out loud:
Mouth to mouth, throw the dice
But hurry and don't think twice
It's only your voice you have to sacrifice
There is a wind of violence
Let's blow away the wind of silence
poem by Elisabeth Karlberg
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Til Death
Kill.
Were fighting death in a living hell.
Were fighting death remove any wait.
Were fighting death in a living hell.
Fighting death.
Were fighting death in a living hell.
Were fighting death remove any wait.
Were fighting death in a living hell.
Fighting death.
You play the loser.
Remain to live.
Live to the day.
Find the need, kill all.
Kill, raid, rot, and live to fight death.
We loathe thee to the death.
Loathe its lies.
Fight til the death.
Live, we die.
Kill for the need.
Death we love.
It lied.
song performed by by Obituary
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Slowly We Rot
Kill all, fight death.
Lesion fighting love.
Fight them all in a living hell
Slowly rot and you die.
You will fight death as you slowly realize.
Kill them all fight death
And slowly read in the love.
Fight them all, join me, slowly we rot. slowly we rot.
Dead to all fighting
As you slowly read in the love.
Fighting the sword, the sword is your plow.
Dead to all fighting
As youre slowly rotting in hell.
Fight them all, join me, slowly we dwell.
Slowly we dwell.
De-char.
song performed by by Obituary
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Alone....2
i'm alone....
well....
here with death....
fighting and losing....
i'm alone....
alone and stupid....
every angel i ever loved....
ripping my apart....
i'm alone....
i'm losing....
for i have to fight with one arm....
cause my wrist is bleeding....
i'm alone....
bleeding
planning....
planning my death....
i'm alone....
god turned his back...
death with arms wide open....
i may go....
i'm alone....
death screeching....
demons yelling....
i'm losing....
poem by Harley Morriss
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An Educated Dalit
educated dalit, working in office elite,
his journey from rags to riches,
hardly matters for high caste there,
safeguarded through religious care,
see the dalit with crucifying glare,
wonder how could a dalit dare,
to overcome his sordid tale,
of breaking away his caste jail,
for them its not his education,
but simply unearned reservation,
well, they prefer to stay ignorant,
rather than be observant and agree,
to their sly ancestors religious vagary,
of keeping majority of population,
religiously away from education,
widely making negative propagation,
low caste deserve condemnation,
now in era of globalization,
they provide legal justification,
by granting on paper certain reservation,
but see the anarchy of socialization,
majority of dalit population,
struggling for handful reservation,
while minority ruling population
gets the rest as gratification,
the educated dalit wonder,
there are many like him who thunder,
for the dalit rights to be consider,
and its time to learn from past blunder,
individuals fight and meek surrender,
unless someone like dr. ambedkar,
been true dalit caretaker,
gather the courage again,
to teach the dalits how to gain,
social rights lost in vain,
perceiving false political fame.
rAHUL...
poem by Rahul Gade
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All Ghosts (revised) ...
the town as usual
misses the noise of the
microphone
wanting to see boxing
bouts not just during
the Feasts
but also on ordinary days
this is only second
to gambling
those fighting cocks
that dominate
the itinerary
of the month
and all
the poor men gather
and try their luck
to get rich
even for a day
the church is nearby
and its bells are silent
copy paste
the silence of the
cemeteries
despite, this is still
the little town that i write
about
and i ask if i love it
or does it love me too?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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We make a ladder for ourselves of our vices, if we trample those same vices underfoot.
quote by Saint Aurelius Augustine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We make ourselves a ladder out of our vices if we trample the vices themselves underfoot.
quote by Saint Augustine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet: Money
Money when God-given, will everlast;
Though spend you may like water for good deeds;
Money when earned by man will get spent fast;
And never can suffice to meet your needs.
Money when God-given will grow like trees,
And give you many luscious fruits and seeds;
Money when earned by man is gone with th'breeze,
And grows to be like scattered, useless weeds.
Money when God-given in time will stay;
Remaining blest, it helps to change man's fate;
Money when earned by man fritters away,
And invites vices, troubles, peoples' hate.
Money God-given can't beget evils,
The soul stays pure, resistant to devils.
poem by John Celes
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Familiarity With A New Born Day
the cocks still crow this early morning
same footfalls passing and stamping on the road
the same trails from the house to the market to the church
back home and same sounds of the gate opening and closing
and same chill of the air from the sea to the mountain
over and over again on this familiarity from day one to day one hundred
till the thousandth
this familiarity that breeds contempt
it is trying to kill us all
but there is this thing inside that keeps burning
this fire this light
it tells us keep going for one day this boredom that tries to kill us
shall soon be a big day for you and for all of us
nirvana, heaven, rebirth, the dusts that stick on our feet
wanting to be alive again and be the flowers under the gentle rain
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The altar
What use is a church,
what use are religious people to me,
when the love of Christ,
I do not in them and in it see
and when they act like religious fanatics
as if they are here to be judge and jury
and have all the facts?
Even going so far in writing,
to dare me to act with destruction,
when it lies in my hands?
And I refrain from that kind of thing,
scared that somehow, some of their members,
are sincere followers of Jesus Christ,
whom I may also harm.
I take the Bible as the book, the only one
which spells out the gospel of my life,
gives explanations of the beyond
and shows the things to come
and every day in humility
I stand on my knees,
trying to make my heart
the altar of my own church.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Sonnet - Money
Let money be thy servant, not Master;
So, put thy wealth in use for mankind's sake;
Let progress come for fellowmen, faster;
What profits come if genuine, thou may take.
The money-needs of life on earth are small;
Money begets money and vices too;
But money cannot solve our problems all;
Let money not cause mis- conduct in you.
What use is money kept as coins and notes?
Banks lend their money so that they may grow;
Money cannot purchase all honest votes;
For money's sake, hardships, we undergo.
How many pairs of shoes, your feet will need?
Let excess money try to others feed.
poem by John Celes
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