The use of intellects.
I don’t believe in the God
Except when I am in threat.
I don’t believe in the Soul
Except when I fall in love.
I don’t believe in the Spirit
Except when I feed mother’s.
I don’t believe in the Ghost
Except where my aunt hanged.
I don’t believe in Karma
Except when I curse someone..
I don’t believe in the Fate
Except when the grief engulfs.
Should I value the intellects
That fail at instincts’ command?
07.05.2006.06.2006
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Be Karma conscious.
The God is by me
As I am His devotee.
I am emboldened
To be unscrupulous.
The Karma watches me
And by it I am cautioned
To be scrupulous.
I trust the Karma
Rather than the God
To cleanse my body.
09.02.2006
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Sonnet: Mother’s Day,2006!
O earthly mother, you are truly great!
You’re wife to one who’as nobler in much ways;
You reared a family so well till date;
May God give you good health in your last days!
O earthly lady, hallowed be thine womb!
What sufferings you underwent for us!
May God give you more useful years ’fore tomb!
Through you, so many miracles, God does.
O noble soul of love, may God bless you!
Your love and care is just incomparable;
You toiled unceasingly for others too;
Our mother dear, you were so capable!
I pray God gives you some more years of joy!
I am so glad to be your youngest boy!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 5-14-2006
Dedicated to my most wonderful, beloved, living mother
On Mother’s Day,2006.
poem by John Celes
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Sonnet: God Knows
God knows my silent tears I shed so oft,
In solitude and secrecy of heart;
God knows my sorrows, grief and feelings soft,
And time to redress them, ’fore I depart.
God knows my trials, tribulations great,
Those pose a threat to harmony and peace;
God knows the seasons when such things abate,
And fosters will-power to keep my ease.
God knows what’s good and best for me always,
And watches me with tender love and care;
God knows what heights I climb in mundane ways,
And sufferings and strife, my heart can bear.
God knows my iniquities, sins I do,
And fills my soul with grace and spirit too!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 3-1-2006
poem by John Celes
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Mother is more a savior
My son’s sin, I forgive, ignore or hide.
Sins he did to me dissolves in my eyes
At the sight of his growth and welfare.
I punish him not, nor want others to.
I have no grief that I was deserted
By my son on whom I had spun my hope.
I do have grief that who would be there
After my death, to nurse him when he weeps over the wrongs done to me, his mother.
10.0.2006
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Karma
I often hear
Why should I exercise?
I leave my health to fate
Why should I work hard?
I leave it to fate
As if fate
Will do wonders
Without any effort
Do not depend
On fate
Believe it or not
Karma
Ensures fate
Start before you are
Late
You may not have to
Repent later and
&
Curse fate
01-05-2012
487-02-05-12
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
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Sympathies dry
Poverty is not mother of grief.
The mother is disparity.
Prosperity cannot drive out grief.
Prosperity eliminates poverty.
With poverty elopes sympathy.
Suicides grow not from poverty
But from want of sympathy.
10.09.2006
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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O' What A Curse
Each Teardropp That I Cry
Each Sigh That I Make
Each Breath That I Take
Is Not Worth This Fate
To Fall For Someone Is A Blessing Alone
But To Fall For One Who Will Never Love You
Is A Curse Unknown
Not Even My Worst Enemy
I Would Wish This Fate
Not Even The Devil
Could Handle This Heartbreak
Desperation And Hope
Heartbroken And Alone
Love And Rejection
Will I Ever Be An Exception?
I Love Him My Friends
I Really Do
But O' What A Curse
For Him To Never Say
I Love You Too
poem by Sherice Malcolm
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Psychos On The Pipe
We don’t sell our bodies to the highest
Or only bidder to feed children
We don’t feed the children
We feed our need
Whatever that may be
Our need for love
Our need for desire
Our need for the poison in our veins
We feed our children to the abuse of strangers
that institutionalized reform of the intellect
to score crystallized rock
to score refined gold
which we wear around our ego
in display of our grandeur and scheming
until we can shoot it through our barrels
to fill the empty of our souls
©2006 All rights reserved
poem by Khristian E. Kay
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At My Aunt's Unveiling
AT MY AUNT’S UNVEILING
At my aunt’s unveiling
There were five of us
Only five
One was a woman
A friend of hers
Not the closest one
But someone who knew her
And wanted to be a friend.
Thousands of people had known my aunt
Hundreds had worked with or for her
She was born into a large family
But all of them were gone
Or out of it.
My sister and I were the relatives
My aunt had been very generous to us
And difficult for my sister
Who cared for her.
I had only been a taker all the years.
My aunt worked so hard for so many years
And she was ‘somebody’ in her world
There were five of us there
And the ceremony short
No minyan.
There was no sign of my aunt’s smile
Or her nervous energy or her superabundant love
‘Moll ‘as my mother called her
was not there.
I see her so clearly in my mind now
‘What does it all mean? ’ my father would ask my mother
after reading of the death of another person they knew
‘What does it all mean’
When my sister and I go
The memory of my aunt
Will be gone forever.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Mary Arden
When a simple English maiden,
Nested warm in Wilmicote,
Sang forth like a lark uprising
Heavenward with its morning note,
Did no English ear that listened,
Even then, foretouched by fame,
Tremble to the prophet-music
Fountain-headed in thy name,
Mary Arden?
And to thee thyself, O tell me!
Shade of Shakespeare’s mother, tell me!
Did no dazzling vision come,
Banishing all thoughts of gloom,
Of the bardic grandeurs waiting
On thy matron fate, when He
Who in time should call thee mother
Should all time’s subjector be,
Mary Arden?
Then a mother we behold thee,
With that babe upon thy breast,
That great nascent soul, so bird-like,
Babbling in its fragrant nest:
O what spirit sweetly human,
O what instincts mildly wise,
Sucked he from those mother-fountains,
Drew he from those mother-eyes,
Mary Arden?
But shall we, now spirit-basking
In the noonblaze of his fame,
Fail to read a sign prophetic
In thy lovely maiden name?
No; it is the star that trembled
O’er a royal poet’s birth;
And amongst immortal Maries,
Second to but one on earth,
Mary Arden!
Glory to thee! Mary Arden!
Shakespeare’s mother! England’s Mary!
poem by Charles Harpur
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Love failure
Remembering is lengthier.
Pining is sweeter than courtships.
Love failures yield such effects..
Love and fail instead of not loving.
16.03.2006
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Claws loosening
One murdered a man
Who cuckolded him.
One murdered his spouse
To live with his paramour.
One murdered her spouse
To flee with her lover.
One murdered a widow
For her liaison with his father.
One murdered a man
For his affair with one’s widow mother.
Crimes of sex are not uncommon.
Why are they rampant now?
Claws loosened and instincts emboldened.
22.06.2006
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The rascal
Who hasn’t shed his saltiest tears
At the time of his mother’s death
Is no less than a rascal,
She having been his lone loving soul.
19.02.2006
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Tears not the scale
As a teenage boy I wept most
When my grandmother died.
As an old man I wept least
When my own mother died.
Do tears tell the depth the grief?
Tear glands dry with the aging.
23.10.2006
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Self Esteem and Temptation
When you do what is prohibited,
Fear engulfs; you fail to enjoy.
When you taste what is forbidden,
Fear engulfs; you fail to enjoy.
Temptations fetch repercussion.
Self esteem controls temptation.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Wife's curse
Man has a wary eye
Upon his spouse
Though he is weary of her.
It is wives’ curse.
17.10.2006
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Sonnet: God’s Grief’s Greater?
How much of sadness fills the hearts of those,
Parents who lost their only child one day?
How much of despair, mother feels, of course,
Seating her only son, dead on the way?
How much grief-stricken do our siblings live,
Seeing their dear ones dead before their eyes?
How can a child on earth remain alive,
When AIDS-affected, widowed, mother dies?
What grief engulfs the hearts of women all,
Who find the babe from womb is born but dead?
How sad God feels when into sin we fall;
And sadder still when to hell, we’re misled.
The Mirth God feels is more when souls return;
His grief’s ’yond compare when in Hell, they burn.
6-26-2001
poem by John Celes
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The depth of death
Hanged to death,
Murdered from vengeance,
Assassinated,
Shot in an encounter,
Killed in a battle,
A toll of an accident,
Died of disease,
Dying of old age,
Is death same in depth?
31.12.2006
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The value of morals
I know it is bad to tell lies
Yet I do as a face saving.
I resolve to bridle my tongue
Yet I let it go in right time.
I know it is a shame to steal
Yet I do if undetectable.
I vow I should not take revenge
But do so as to heal the wound.
I ought to burn the jealousy
But find it the fire that ignites.
I have learnt I must be honest
But practise when convenient.
I shall eschew all sins of sex
As long as I have no access.
I have guilt about adultery
But fall a prey to proximity.
What is the use of morals learnt
As they are slaves of instincts?
20.06.2006
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Mother's Love!
A mother's love is never faltering.
A mother's love is never halting.
A mother's judgement is never erring.
A mother's dream is to supply all needs.
A mother's goal is to instill good deeds.
A mother's commitment, is to the one, that
she loves!
A mother's reward is thanks, for all of
the aboves!
This mother says 'she will always protect
you all your life'...'Just to see that there is
no danger or strife'.'For a sharing of love
is my duty to you'...'Your happiness, i'll
guarantee to make, you safe and true! '
'I'll kiss those owie's to make them not hurt'...
'I'll buy you nice things for school, maybe new
shoes and a shirt.' 'My love will stay forever
and ever'...'To you i'll never say never! '
'My love for you shall never fade'...'And
that's the promise that i've made! '
Michael Jeffrey Gale
Copyright ©2006 Michael Jeffrey Gale
poem by Michael Gale
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