The Stranded God
THE STRANDED GOD
God is supposed to be pure and good
and is not expected to run a all-vices den
But, in order to adjudge the human mind
He has thrown open a mega mall - gambling ring
under a single roof, in a flood-lit complex on Las Vegas mode
assorted wings, for sinful things, from porno to video games
24 hour bar, sex-parlours, casinos, kiosks, massage and sauna bath
Satan, the Group Manager, is given full in charge
House-full business in all the branches
lakhs of rupees change hands in a fraction
God is amazed at His daily collections
As the people are blind to His scriptures and preaching
God strolled into a church to check attendance
hither and thither a few old and invalid
giving a pat, He inquired them of their prayers
they needed money only to re-enter the hot- shops, God had opened
confused over the human psychology, God called his clergy
wanting to assess what the god men were doing for centuries
None of them could guarantee a clear society
And in mass protest, leaving the Order, they all ran to the
Halls of variety and gaiety
…………………….leaving the God S T R A N D E D in fury.
Louis Santhana
poem by Santhana Louis
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Good Luck Next Time
GOOD LUCK, NEXT TIME
Had the God, in heaven, sent me an advance SMS
That I am slated to die to-night at the stroke of six
I would take bath thrice and stay trim and fresh
In readiness of the journey, freed from the chaotic mess
Before, I had not donated blood even once
This day, I think of all nice things at once
My organs and parts are under distress sale
For this lot in full, would go as waste and stale
I banged into the church and fell at the alter
Probing my sins, filed a counter
All those saints were in tears and tight-lipped
That their hands are tied for a last- minute reprieve
I ran to the bank and drew all the money I had
Looked around, in search of an honest ward
Whom I can trust, to begin a Trust in my name
To do something good, to pump my soul into heaven
I apologize to all whom I might have hurt
And recollect those favors which I had forgot
My hour has come - I find everything bitter
At least, in the next lease of life,
……………I thus resolve to fare better.
Louis Santhana
poem by Santhana Louis
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My House of Human Skin
Look at me now, no uncouth wife
No mocking kids, no drab sex life
It all seems so immaterial in
My House of Human Skin
The waves of doubt that lapped my shores
Were quashed among the slavish whores
That visited my halls within
My House of Human Skin
I now have cold philosophy
That always comes easy to me
My thoughts will move forever in
My House of Human Skin
I am not God, I am not grace
Though I may have a normal face
I gave up being your kin within
My House of Human Skin
Emotionless, I walk these halls
Don't feel the need to talk no more
I cannot feel at all within
My House of Human Skin
One night some blacked-out faceless men
Took me away, I fought, I rent
But blood and bone were not within
My House of Human Skin
Now I stare at mattressed walls
I can no longer walk the halls
Yet my mind soars on mental wings
Cannot be stopped by trivial things
I've never been confined within
My House of Human Skin
poem by Matt Pocock
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Ichabod - The Story of Discontent (Narrative)
This story's for the humble
And I'll hide identities
For it may make you stumble
To know the realities.
It's about a nice preacher
Of a known denomination
Who aspired to be richer
Through his good congregation.
In a rented house he lived
With his lovely wife and children
But he wanted to receive
A better blessing from men.
So without much ado
He relayed in his preaching
A new house will do
So increase with your giving.
He said 'We'll build a Center
That will then accommodate
Five thousand new members,
And this church will be great.
But before that you must
Build a nice house for me
I hope you will trust
It's for our testimony.'
So poured the donations
And the gift offerings
For his house construction
With complete furnishings.
After the house, he needed
A new car for his trips,
So in preaching he related
Added needs in the worship.
'A Crosswind is fine'
Said he to the people,
'It's an Isuzu line
And the price reasonable.'
So he got the new wheels
And with peace for a moment,
But the joy that he feels
Soon leads back to discontent.
After a year, a predicament-
Another car he had wanted
Made known his sentiment,
Again the people submitted.
'A Mitsubishi Pajero,
It's the best for our missions
Will you let me know
Your complete contributions.'
When the giving was done
And the money was counted,
'For those who gave none
No prayers will be said.'
What kind of a shepherd
Will say such a prayer?
From heaven God heard
This very selfish preacher.
After that his own son
Brought sin to the church,
A curse that's undone
Took him down from his perch.
Though he preached with full volume
It was empty of Power
For the God Who consumes
Has abandoned the preacher.
Now seven years later
There is still no Center,
Eventually the Rapture
May not carry this preacher.
'Ichabod' - The glory of the Lord has
departed.
'We too often love things and use people, when we should be using things and loving people.'
..................................... .................................................
April 10,2009
Philippines
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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The Ring of Stars
In order to make a star with five branches
Where six would have been the same
A circle must first be drawn
In order to make a star with five branches ...
A ring!
One did not take so many precuations
In order to make a tree from many branches
Trees that hide the stars
Trees!
You, full of nests and song birds
Covered with branches and leaves
That you lift as far as the stars!
poem by Robert Desnos
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Lip Service
LIP SERVICE
The church is almost empty
Lit with candles
Under deserted alters
No hymns or music
Nor any distortions
Perfect silence
Is the hour - God lends his ears
For my prayers, smiles and feelings
Shown in perfect stillness
You need not sing,
Shout, weep, clap or cry
To take your prayers
to the soaring heights
Your deeds are being watched
Minute after minute,
- as who never sins
can even need not pray
God is one, and
He sits too high
He may not be knowing
YOU and ME
Conscience is His
Ambassador, stationed in me
Dispatching reports
To HIM, daily of me.
Louis Santhana
poem by Santhana Louis
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The Video Shop
The local factorys been pulled down
By an overseas corporation
Now all of my brothers are looking around
For alternative occupation
I was sitting by the telly with my brother, kenny
When suddenly the penny dropped
While all of my brothers are sitting at home
Ive got a bank loan and Ive opened up my very own
Video shop
Video shop
At the video shop
I can fly, fly you away
Comedy and tragedy are all sitting on my shelf
And if youve got a fantasy
For a small rental fee
You can set yourself free
At my video shop
At my video shop
At the video shop
I can fly, fly you away
At the video shop
Let me fly, fly you away
From all of the depression in you head
Caused by all the living in the red
Ive got a bootleg version of citizen kane
A second hand copy of psycho
Ive taped them off the telly so you shouldnt complain
And theres no guarantee youll get your money back again
From my video shop
My video shop
If you want to escape, I can rent you a tape
To relieve your situation
If you feel a bit low, I got a good peep show
cos everybody knows almost anything goes
At my video shop
At my video shop
One fifty a day and Ill fly, fly you away
Its nothing to pay to fly far, far away
I can help you through that lonely night
Ive got technicolour, black and white
I can guide you through those empty days
Make you smile and take your blues away
O let me fly you away
At my video shop
Fly, fly you away
Another factorys been knocked down
But nobody ever complains
And all of my brothers are customers now
We all play video games
I can see it in the eyes of all the lonely wives
If theyre bored and they feel like a change
I do sales, rentals, even a swop
And if you feel like a change, well it can all be arranged
At my video shop
At my video shop
At my video shop
At my video shop
Let me fly, fly you away
And everyone who walks in through that door
Has got something that theyre looking for
At my video shop
At my video shop
At the video shop
I can fly, fly you away
At the video shop
Let me fly, fly you away
Oh, at the video shop
Oh, at the video shop
Oh, at the video shop
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Life isn't Hell
We die whole life for thinking of hell
What is that supposed to deliver or tell?
We are doing exceedingly well
Life is not that bad to curse or dwell
Our religious books are full of all divine speculations
That has raised sometimes little fear and many questions
Where are we going to head after leaving behind dead body?
Someone may suggest as it is to be taken over by somebody
Well, it is nice to keep person under constant fear and check
It is difficult to understand after death what can be at stake?
Who may know exactly what is open to us there after
Sometimes we are lead to believe and turn into laughter
We resort to all kinds of soul purification
Do no evil or try for its identification
What can be pursued and what can be forgotten?
Well certainly first question will be that of money all ill gotten
It is strong belief that soul will be taken by death lords
It will be under direct supervision of God under the threat of swords
We die simply because of imagining the death sequence
It has so much impact in the mind with its presence
The person who has adapted well with journey
May do it so with ease and leave it to almighty
Nothing is in our hand and it may come so in natural course
So it will be clear to him in advance for offering no curses
It has to be taken lightly when end is expected near
It is natural to have in mind unknown fear
Yet end can be peaceful if all concerns are well addressed
There is not much left behind or to be confessed
We all know about the divine layers
We memorize and repeat it in prayers
If we surrender to sub conscience in time
The end may not that painful sometimes
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Prayers Have Wings You Know
prayers have wings you know
it takes its time and moves slow
but each and every prayer is heard
though you may not hear a word.
the prayers are taken by our guardian angels
to the lord up above
who reads each one with caring and love.
he then puts it in the order received
and then satisfies every ones needs.
so when you say your prayers, day or night
it never leaves gods hearing or sight.
he is there to satisfy our needs
as long as we don't get that greed.
prayers (do) have wings you know
they do not stay in that place called limbo
where they can't be reached.
they are sometimes put in a box
that says incoming mail.
on this the angels do not fail.
so with this thought in mind
i'll leave you untill next time
poem by Louis Rams
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Your Innocence
Your innocence brings order to us,
It reminds us of our heaven,
This religion is pure and crimeless.
Then the men who led the men of cruelness
Define what life can mean with conclusion,
Your innocence brings order to us.
Let the future tell us the solution to the crisis,
Giving us order without computation,
This religion is pure and crimeless.
My production of money is from cunningness,
Forcing the actions from complication,
Your innocence brings order to us.
May we understand each other as generous,
Forming policies of kindness like a fountain,
This religion is pure and crimeless.
The condition we experience from riches is joyous,
Finding a happy home with the fortune,
This religion is pure and crimeless,
Your innocence brings order to us.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Check bags are fun. I just make sure there won't be anything illegal in my check bag which is forbidden at a cabin of a plane. Just leaving things like scissors and such out of my carry-on things in order to avoid troubles with some certain airline, y'know.
quote by Kerry King
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The church, inserted and active in human society and in history, does not exist in order to exercise political power or to govern the society.
quote by Claudio Hummes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lovely Day
At the station, at the border an egression to the exterior law and order
Upward plantation
I remember your red dress
Like a field full o poppy
You were making me dreamy
Stunned by a love got to do what your head says
Could not let it stop me
They got one leaving today
And its going away
Got my feet in the stirrup
It can be kind of banal
But I dream of your red dress
Riding down these dry canals
Oh baby its not europe
But Im sending you money
Im sending you lots of money
So you can buy a ticket
You will be my martian honey all the day
They got one leaving today
And its going away.
song performed by by Pixies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Nasty Bath Room
The bustand
Bath room
Was not for
Clean...
Urine sumeel
Cut the nose...
Some budy pass
Urine...
No for water
But
Colected money
For indian rupees
Onr for urine pass...
Rupees two for
Motion pass...
I was give
One rupee
I went the
Bustand bath room...
Not passed
The urine...
Urine was my self
Very urgent...
But i did not pass urine;
I was pay the one rupee
For indian money
Nasty bath room...
You also go and see
The bustand that bath room
Very care full...
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Not In My House
[Intro]
St. Louis! {echo}
Stomp stomp stomp stomp {repeated}
This house belongs to who
[Chorus]
Not in my house
You might catch me on the road
But not in my house
It won't happen oh no (oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no)
Not in my house (check me out)
You might catch me on the road
But not in my house
It won't happen oh no (oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no)
[Verse 1]
Check it, check it
Now we've come along way ay (hear me out)
And I know you wanna go some more oh
The only thing keeping you from completin your mission derrty
Is makin it past my door
See I'd hate to be the bearer of bad news
But I simply gotta tell ya I refuse to lose
To continue how you wanna disrespect intended
But it ain't goin down hell nah derrty
[Chorus]
[Verse 2]
Check it, check it
I dropped my mug in the dirt done, you done crossed this line
Me losin tonight, ain't even cross my mind
This my house, and I'm a defend it crush you if need be
Leaving you as an example for other teams to see
Then it be, 2 strikes, 2 outs, no lights
Fourth down, fourth quarter, lookin at a baby order
Fourth period, minute left, down ten, hold ya breath
Pick and roll, back door, game over, told ya so
[Chorus]
Not in my house {4x}
song performed by by Nelly
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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MONEY DOES MAKE A DIFFERENCE...by talile ali
MONEY CAN'T BUY HAPPINESS BUT
MONEY DOES MAKE A DIFFERENCE
WHEN ADDING UP THE DOLLARS AND CENTS
IT TAKES CARE OF A LOT OF LIFE'S EXPENSE
YOU DIDN'T COME INTO THE WORLD WITH INSIGHT
INTO SOMEONES MASTER PLAN
TO ENSLAVE EVERY LIVING HUMAN
TO A SINGLE THING THAT WAS AN EXPENSE
CREDIT AND DEBT ARE THE FANGS
OF THIS VAMPIRE WHO MOLEST
YOUR LAST STRANDS OF HUMANNESS
TYING UP ALL OF YOUR MENTAL HANDS
ITS ALL BEEN DONE WITH MIRRORS
ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS USE YOUR OWN
TO REFLECT BACK ALL THAT YOU HAVEN'T THROWN
AWAY
SO IN ORDER TO HAVE THE CASH
YOU HAVE TO REFLECT BACK ALL THE CRASS
AND LIFT YOUR MIND OUT OF YOUR ASS
TODAY
poem by Talile Ali
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White Represents Peace
White color represents peace
Almost liked by all with smiling faces
As stability remains forever
Prosperity is bound to be there
I will go to bed with only one prayer
Lord, show me next to offer the prayers
As life may turn in any direction
Leaving behind less options for action
I was daily awakened by white bird
May she was very eager to sit there and be heard
She may make little noise but it was full of melody
As if singing love song for somebody
I could see brightness in her eyes
There was no fear but powerful drive
She may raise voice at some interval
With the hope that male partner may make arrival
He may come with all freshness
The joy could be seen on their faces
Both may stay for sometimes and depart
Our life also must for same spirit with live part
This is how life can be measured
It has to be willingness on our part that is to be assured
Rest all goes normal with peaceful existence
Only you got to settle in life at once
Peace is very much essential
Not in human life but in regions as well
Neighbors must be heard and given their share
To live side by side with peace can be called very fare
I could only pick good things
If birds can make it with powerful wings
At least we are capable human beings
Only we have to make attempts and peacefully sing
Love and peace can not be had in open market
Something will have to be sacrificed or let
In any of the circumstances, peace must be given a trial
Even if with some misunderstanding, it must be offered with no denial
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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From the outset
It may be known from the outset
Whether it is artificial or preset
Until it is given human touch
It may have same fate as such
Until you feel not safe and secured
Until you don't feel pain endured
Such things may emerge in mind
We all writers must certainly probe deeply and find
What we write for public consumption?
It is not wholly bases on assumption
It is linked to the ripples rising in soul
It is not wild cry in night by owl
Pure word jugglery may not help at all
It is responded purely to inner call
The thoughts in mind and try to reveal
There is no use to force or to conceal
Artificial flowers may not have fragrance
They may look good but won’t appeal even at once
Real flowers may be open with full boom
Mind is well opened with enough of room
I shall present the poetry with full touch
It must contain human feelings and pain as such
Not based on imaginary lines but on real facts
Where people are committed to behave with acts
I will neatly orange views in orderly ways
My inner songs should be aligned with hope rays
It must light other souls to synchronize with trend
Then only it may look as if refined with amends
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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The Floating Assets
The Floating Assets
The boat man charged me
rupees three,
for a round trip
across the river mouth at sea
shabby and the oldest boat
with multiple cracks
supporting planks on every joints
by all means, not fit to be sea-worthy
kutcha logs connecting the sides
were the high benches for the paying boarders
safety standards were totally absent
as the waters seeped in up to knee-deep
to provide some relief or confidence
rectangular wooden posts
were enjoined to the sides of the boat
to keep it afloat and as a cushion for mishaps
yet I was the only
who kept on shivering
on the fate of the voyage
of only a stone's throw
the regular users were
crowding the vessel full
with luggage, hardware and cattles
unmindful of the boat's ability and pull
finally, leaving the shores
the boatman greeted us all
and on seeing my dead face
he had burst into laugh
and in pride, he went on to declare
that this was the boat his grandfather rowed - and
is the same…..he bequeaths for his son ! ! !
Louis Santhana
poem by Santhana Louis
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There’s an anarchic element in me
There’s an anarchic element in me,
an opposition to government,
a aversion to control, preaching disorder
coming from being forced into the military,
being forced in subjection
to order and discipline
forced to kill
ignoring your beliefs, forced to buckle to
the demands of society
to learn lethal skills, against your will
and ignoring the impact
as if you as a human being
is just another machine
that can be turned on and off
and are ready for use for political ends
and I am not wanting to participate in RICA
where big brother wants your name,
address that accompanies your cellular phone number
as if the government wants to control sanity and peace
being a exile against it, wanting isolation and freedom
from government and it agencies
which deal with you with atrophy
as if not geared to meet expectations
in a obverse phase with indifference
as if you are just another meaningless human being.
poem by Gert Strydom
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A Killer's Mind...
Killers, killers
Killers think that what they’re doing is right
Always wanting to start a fight
Thinking that that’s a way to show they’re strong
Encouraging people to follow along
Showing that the others deserve to die
And oh... who cares if they weep and cry
That’s a symbol of their weakness, they’d say
Having full pleasure as they walk away
Leaving all those families with no hope to survive
And leaving no expectations for a child to stay alive
They’d walk amongst the others and laugh with full joy
Not caring if they’ve killed a man or even a little boy
They’d destroy every house around
Demolishing it entirely to the ground
They’d think that they had finally reached the top
While the others don’t know when they’ll finally stop.
poem by Marria Attar
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