An orphan death
When one died as very old,
Sons and daughters get relieved,
Their children gather for chit chats
And their kids for a play together>
The sisters and brother, if alive,
Are invalid somewhere, to attend.
A festival like funeral, it will turn.
03.10.2004
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sons And Daughters
There's a place in the city they call the Archway
Where we rented three rooms for a dollar a day
and I worked semi-skilled at the capstans for years
And my wife was a good woman but the love disappeared
Sons and Daughters, Daughters and Sons
When a marriage goes down they're the loneliest ones
Sons and Daughters, Daughters and Sons
How I hope they can cope with the damage I've done
I found me a band, I went out on tour
So the kids wouldn't know I was with them no more
When they said, "Where's me dad?" She'd say, "He's a star!"
Oh if only stars knew what fools they all are.
Sons and Daughters, Daughters and Sons
When a marriage goes down they're the loneliest ones
Sons and Daughters, Daughters and Sons
How I hope they can cope with the damage I've done
I got a new contract, I got a new life
No more capstans for me and I've got a new wife
Sometimes she gets angry, says she wants a family
Then that nightmare returns like a ghost haunting me
Sons and Daughters, Daughters and Sons
When a marriage breaks up you're the loneliest ones
Sons and Daughters, Daughters and Sons
How I hope you all cope with the damage we done
song performed by by Ian Hunter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sons & Daughters
(ian hunter)
Theres a place in the city they call the archway
Where we rented three rooms for a dollar a day
And I worked semi-skilled at the capstans for years
And my wife was a good woman but the love disappeared
Sons and daughters, daughters and sons
When a marriage goes down theyre the loneliest ones
Sons and daughters, daughters and sons
How I hope they can cope with the damage Ive done
I found me a band, I went out on tour
So the kids wouldnt know I was with them no more
When they said, wheres me dad? shed say, hes a star!
Oh if only stars knew what fools they all are.
Sons and daughters, daughters and sons
When a marriage goes down theyre the loneliest ones
Sons and daughters, daughters and sons
How I hope they can cope with the damage Ive done
I got a new contract, I got a new life
No more capstans for me and Ive got a new wife
Sometimes she gets angry, says she wants a family
Then that nightmare returns like a ghost haunting me
Sons and daughters, daughters and sons
When a marriage breaks up youre the loneliest ones
Sons and daughters, daughters and sons
How I hope you all cope with the damage we done
song performed by by Ian Hunter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A pious man
A pious man had gone to Burma
From where he came as a destitute,
Ran a petty shop on borrowed money,
Made to marry in late thirties to go
bankrupt,
Bore two sons and a daughter
From his equally poor but virulent
wife,
Became invalid in money and mind,
Lost his wife to his brother in celibacy,
Added one more daughter from him,
Lost the second son in electric shock,
Wandered and laboured for food,
Reaped every kind of humiliation,
And then died, later to be followed
By his wife, leaving the children
To be grown by the remaining father,
Who too died with children spreading
Under different shelters to live
And get married.
I shed my tears thinking that pious man,
Who gave me sweets when I was
Twelve, who begged of me with his Eyes
For money when I started earning.
04.10.2004
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Handel Concerto Grosso
it was like a meeting
of cats
the objective of which
is to bell the
dog
who among you has the courage to do the belling of the dog?
yes the meeting among brothers and sisters
before mother died
before father followed her
before my grandfather died
it is about land, money
it is all about inheritance
who would spend to the funeral without reimbursement?
who would shoulder the bills of their hospitalization using private funds?
none would do that
my youngest brother said they died and they have their own money
let them spend for themselves then
what i want is, he said, which inheritance is mine
that is all i need, who cares?
so who will take the bell of this dog's greed?
handel play on play on they are killing each other.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Kids
Kids - kids, Christmas i-is for kids
Look around and you will see
Kids from one to ninety-three
Laughin', lovin' life and bein' kids
Kids - ki-i-i-ids, Christmas i-is for kids
Kids like you and little brother
Aunts and uncles, dads and mothers
Grandma, grandpa an' all the other kids
Daddy runs the 'lectric train
While all the children wait in vain
To take their turn
At playin' engineer
Grandpa catches grandma's cheek
And all the family sneaks a peak
And suddenly
Their wrinkles disappear
Take a look at Betty Joe
Underneath the mistletoe
Pretending that
She doesn't know it's there
And in the front yard Uncle Mike
Just fell off brother's brand new bike
There's Christmas cheer
And laughter everywhere
Kids (kids) - ki-i-i-ids (kids)
Christmas i-is for kids
Christmas time is here again
And now it's when the fun begins
This time of year we all turn into kids...
song performed by by Kenny Rogers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Brother Walfrid Stands by Parkhead's Gates
The Celtic songs filled heaven's sky
and we marched along the Gallowgate
Joined by comrades, brothers and sisters,
As Brother Walfrid stood by Parkhead's gates.
The Celtic passion is such devotion,
Heritage, culture and our faith,
Our father’s father bore the tradition,
While Brother Walfrid stood by Parkhead's gates.
In the Garngad, from the parish of St.Roch’s,
Ireland’s sons and daughters would pray,
From the Royston Road, we would find our spiritual home
As Brother Walfrid’s soul welcomed us through Parkhead’s gates.
Our Irish inheritance we will cradle,
With the Glasgow Celtic, we will celebrate,
On the Holy Ground will play heroes & legends,
Blessed by Brother Walfrid who stands by Parkhead's gates.
The green and white drapes over our heart
As we are educated on the Celtic way,
And as we gather within Celtic Park,
Brother Walfrid stands by Parkhead’s gates.
Nov’17th 2005
poem by Daniel McDonagh
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How badly good!
I helped my neighbour put out the fire.
Yes, it should not spread to my door.
Heard of robbers in the next flat,
I bolted in, tight lipped,
And later said I was fast asleep.
I speak ill of men who eye woman
So that I can hide my evil eyes.
I attend my invalid parents
To show my son for his turn.
I did all frauds to heap wealth
To leave my children in good stead.
I met petty needs of people around
Lest my funeral should go unattended.
How badly I have grown good!
14.05.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Rakhi Broadband: Verbal Cartoons
[ Intro: Raksha Bandhan or Raakhi is an annual Hindu festival which falls on a full-moon day. In 2009, it fell on Aug 05. Raksha Bandhan means bond of protection. Though it mainly takes place between a brother and a sister, it can be between any set of two persons, irrespective of their relationship, gender and social status. The sister visits her brother and ties a band (called Raakhi) on his wrist seeking his love and protection. The brother, in turn, pledges to honour her wishes. Sisters present brothers with sweets, and brothers please them with some good gifts. This festival offers many twists and turns. And here are a few verbal cartoons capturing some such hilarious scenes at the end of the day.]
(1)
Only one rakhi on his wrist
Seeing the clustered wrists of his friends
He sobbed and sobbed
For want of more
(2)
A pile of rakhis up to his shoulder
Yet he cried bitterly:
“Every girl calls me brother
None, lover! ”
(3)
Only sister
She reaps a fortune
From her ten brothers
(4)
Ten sisters swarm
The only brother
He gets broke
(5)
Only brother
Dozen blood sisters
And umpteen sisterly
He sets up a sweet shop
The next day
(6)
Everyone envied him
Congratulated him
His arm had the largest number of rakhis
He only knew the secret:
He had spent a five grand on rakhis
And another one hundred bucks
To pay an urchin
Who tied them on him
In a secluded spot
[Aug 07,2009: : Hyderabad-500056]
poem by AtreyaSarma Uppaluri
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Not Against Anybody
I am not against anybody
I have clarified clear
If you are going to say
I feel painful to hear.
Animals birds fishes all are
My brothers and sisters
We are all sons daughters of
His Highness
All are sons and daughters of
This soil Mother Earth.
I respect shared value
I respect human value
I respect natural law
We are all matured man
Of this latest century
It is not good to think
Otherwise at any point of time
At any place against anybody.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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At Our Funeral
Have you been to a funeral yet, after The Lord you have met?
A special funeral for all of us, who have come to Christ Jesus,
A funeral of your independence, as your heart, to God relents,
When indeed, you die to self, now alive in The Savior’s wealth.
Even though we died, we live, so now our life to God we give,
Earthly desires are all we lose, in accepting God’s good news,
Thus being saved by Jesus Christ, we give Him our earthly life,
Since He died for us at Calvary, to let our captive heart go free.
So believers are now free to die, for Jesus who reigns on high,
Yes free to die to our old ways, as we live out our earthly days,
Living without what we don’t need, as God’s Word we do heed,
While living for a future friend, which when it comes has no end.
The life with God, we now begin, guides us away from dark sin,
We die to sin so we can start, a brand new life with a new heart,
A new heart which now is purified, by the One, Who for us died,
Christ died to cleanse you and me, all with His blood at Calvary.
At this funeral that you attend, it’s just a beginning, not the end,
As you begin life brand new, with The Lord, to see you through,
With The Savior by your side, for He now lives, though He died,
With death swallowed up in victory, believers shall live Eternally.
The Dark Belongs to the Feral Ones
A lone assistant, an all-night stand
Somebody's daughters and somebody's sons
Flash of a blade behind a door
The dark belongs to the feral ones
Mayhem & menace, muggings & fear
Somebody's daughters and somebody's sons
Drugs and litter and fights, and beer
The dark belongs to the feral ones
Boots that stamp on a victim's face
Somebody's daughters and somebody's sons
Is it the fault of blood, or place?
The dark belongs to the feral ones
Gym-slip bride in her council flat
Somebody's daughters and somebody 's sons
She's the local hoodies' welcome mat
The dark belongs to the feral ones
Speed and jellies and hash and smack
Somebody's daughters and somebody's sons
Dealers in playgrounds pushing crack
The dark belongs to the feral ones
Gangs, graffiti and poxed-up sex
Somebody's daughters and somebody's sons
Smash society..clear its decks
The dark belongs to the feral ones
poem by Sheena Blackhall
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Funerals are a Festival
An old lady was dead. She was my father’s
Mother’s elder sister, who brought him up
After his mother’s death when he was at seven.
I went with him to attend the funeral.
Then I was fifteen; no sadness engulfed;
Not aware how much it engulfed my father.
My funeral will be a festival to
Most who would come there for connections.
21.01.2011
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Raksha Bandhan
Raksha Bandhan is observed
on the date of full moon
in the month of Shravana
it is the bracelet of safety
made of thread
Raksha Bandhan is a festival
of brothers and sisters
celebrated and enjoyed
with full enthusiasm
On this day sister prays
for love, peace, prosperity
and long life of her brother
or any good wishes as may be
On this day brother swears
to give protection to his sister
to to give all pleasures in her life
to make her life happy and gay
On this day, sister ties this bracelet
made of threads on right wrist
of her brother, make a small rounded
mark with rori or sandal on forehead
of her brother, offer him sweets
Brother offer gifts or his wishes
for her peaceful and prosperous life
Ramesh does think
this festival of love and affection
between brothers and sisters
be observed world wide
No God, Allah, Ishwar or
any spiritual power has any problem
Not only this, all may observe the festival
irrespective of race and religion,
celebrate throughout the year
this will lead us to progress
for a brightest and joyful world.
poem by Ramesh Rai
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Women’s Individuality
Spirit of woman is dearer to sons
Than to daughters; sons feel great
loss.
Women are root systems and men
Branches.
A root will not weep for the root of the
other.
26.06.2004
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Life And The Five Elements
Five sweet sisters and brother, water, air, fire, earth and sky one:
Moving and pushing the life, full of sorrow and fun.
Five rosy sisters and brother, in days from creation to today’s nix:
Developing and developing – every thing for life’s happy fix.
Five timeless sisters and brother, from evolution to today’s dream:
Water, Air, Energy, Food and Environment enough for life gleam!
Five tireless sisters and brother, from hell to heaven:
Each life that calls, I say 'FLIES IN SEARCH OF DREAM! '
Five deathless sisters and brother, none is the youngest or oldest one:
And no body can claim or propose, no body is near or dear done.
Five omnipresent sisters and brother - but free from clutches of time and age
No body can stop and engage them, but all are under their bondage.
Five dancing sisters and brother, of life and life nothing more:
Sun of new lives so gracious and majestically rises so much before!
Five mighty sisters and brother - Their age, well, never mind!
Universe jogs along with them, like the rest of human kind:
But the miracle and mysticism of life, sisters and brother no body knows
But the puzzle remain unsolved 'how the world goes'!
poem by Dr. Yogesh Sharma
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Tell It All Brother
Tell it all brother, before we fall
Tell it all brothers and sisters
Tell it all.
How much you're holding back on me
When you say you're giving all?
And in the dungeons of your mind
Who you got chained to the wall?
Tell it all brother, before we fall
Tell it all brothers and sisters
Tell it all.
Did you plant your feet on higher ground
To avoid life's mud and stone?
Did you ever kick a good man
When he was down, just to make yourself feel strong?
Tell it all brother, before we fall
Tell it all brothers and sisters
Tell it all.
Tomorrow just might be too late
Now is the time
To get your jumbled mind straight
And seek a new design.
Did you ever walk for a crippled man
Pretending you were lame?
And what made you think one feeble hand to God
Was gonna make him call your name?
Tell it all brother and sisters
Tell, Tell it all
Tell it all brother, before we fall
Tell it all brothers and sisters, tell
Tell it all brother, before we fall
Tell it all...
song performed by by Kenny Rogers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To dominate is to get humiliated
As you grow weak by age and ability,
Your sons, daughters and later your wife
Would ignore, humble and scold you
If you had been a terror to them. Mind.
13.07.2004
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hot Water
Tell - me something
Why do I always find it hard just to get along
Try my best - for nothing
Every little thing I do is wrong
Feel it in my brain
Driving me insane
Round and round
The same old tune
Daddys on the phone
You know youre not alone
Turn that down
And clean up your room.
Sons and daughters
(dont fall in)
In hot water
Sons and daughters
(they dont do)
What they oughta
Tell (tell) you something
Music is the key to set me free
To the beat (on the street) Im jumping
Forgetting all the things they said bout me
Here it comes again
Chugging like a train
Round and round
An impeccable groove
I know its getting late
But I wont histate
Cant slow down
Got to do what I do
Sons and daughters
(always in)
In hot water
Wasting time
Is a crime in their eyes
But Im still young
So much time to decide - what to do ...
(I dont need confirmation
For my boyhood extrapolation
Though Im not sure of my direction
I have the groove for my protection)
Here it comes again
Chugging like a train
Round and round
An impeccable groove
I know its getting late
But I wont hesitate
Cant slow down
Got to do what I do
Sons and daughters
(dont fall in)
In hot water
(when they fall by the way)
Sons and daughters
(they dont do)
What they oughta
Tell me something
Where you staying tonight
Your folks
Have waited up for you
Now theyve locked the door
And turned off the light.
song performed by by Level 42
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On Killing Before Birth
My winged inner-self
Took me to the world astral
Along with all senses alive,
The world where fates are ordained,
Where records are maintained.
I rested in front of two mansions
Whose main doors were conjoined,
One left the other right,
And the inner parts were dark.
The men and women,
One by one,
And turn by turn,
Leapt out like birds,
As they hop out of the nest,
Early in the morn.
I beheld a long queue of the kids,
Extended beyond the sight,
Aging less than the years ten,
All sweating, perspiring
In radiance of the Sun of that world,
Dismayed and dejected,
Nearby stood in the row a child,
Resembling face and features
One of my sons.
Then I was disclosed a mystery
“The are the souls of kids
Whom parents have killed
Before their birth
They lined up themselves for their turn:
The turn that will never turn again.”
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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Cry of the fatherless son
I will not mourn my father's death
I won't even be struck by his death.
I will not contribute a coin to buy his coffin,
Or for the funeral which I won't even attend.
As is the custom,
I won't name my first son after him.
My children won't ever see photos of him.
I will not tell them tales
that my father supposedly told me.
His name in my house will never ring a bell,
Neither will he ring my doorbell -
For if he does I will let my dogs loose on him,
no matter how old and frail he'll be.
His name in my house shall be forbidden.
But how could I mourn your death?
How would your death strike me?
How could I contribute to your funeral?
Or attend your funeral?
As is custom,
how should I name my son after you?
And how would my children see your photos?
What tales did you tell me,
so I can tell them?
How could your name even ring a bell,
Or you ring my doorbell?
How would I let my dogs loose on you,
An old stranger that I haven't
My eyes set on?
Forgive me.
poem by Kimani wa Mumbi
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