Master Of Origami We Honour
master of origami folding many coloured
pieces of paper into objects of appealing interest
animals people flowers mysterious artifacts
respect and honour are given master creator
in Japan an artist is honoured respect is due
no cretin comments “imagine a grown man
sitting around all day folding pieces of paper”
this is not New Zealand where a master poet
is ignored condemned by creatures of contempt
master of origami we honour wonder in your eyes
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Lord of the Flies
Oh Master my Master
Oh where have you been
I wallowed in filth and
I drowned in sin
Oh Master my Master
It's my rotten luck
To swim in the decay
And swallow the muck
Oh Master my Master
I stand in the fires
Surrounded by murderers
Thieves, cheaters, and liars
Oh Master my Master
the earth has turned red
Fluid with blood
Of the recently dead
Oh Master my Master
What's wrong with the world
The blackness unfolds
Like a flag that's unfurled
Oh Master my Master
You ignore my cries
And now I'm quite sure
You're the Lord of the Flies
poem by Anonymous Ghurl
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I Know What My Master Does
I know where my Master lives.
I need no invitation to visit where He is.
I know where my Master lives.
I know what my Master does.
I witness this on a daily basis.
And not with eyes fixed on skies above.
My Master is available whenever I call.
My Master is everything and to me my all.
My Master has seen me stumble and fall,
To get up off my knees to again walk tall.
And if it wasn't for my Master I'd be left to crawl.
I am aware ot this.
I know where my Master lives.
I need no invitation to visit where He is.
I know where my Master lives.
I know what my Master does.
I witness this on a daily basis.
And not with eyes fixed on skies above.
I know what my Master does,
Can do...
And has done for me.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Master
Master went a-hunting,
When the leaves were falling;
We saw him on the bridle path,
We heard him gaily calling.
'Oh master, master, come you back,
For I have dreamed a dream so black!'
A glint of steel from bit and heel,
The chestnut cantered faster;
A red flash seen amid the green,
And so good-bye to master.
Master came from hunting,
Two silent comrades bore him;
His eyes were dim, his face was white,
The mare was led before him.
'Oh, master, master, is it thus
That you have come again to us?'
I held my lady's ice-cold hand,
They bore the hurdle past her;
Why should they go so soft and slow?
It matters not to master.
poem by Arthur Conan Doyle
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The Master Spoke.
Why is the world here today?
The Master Spoke.
Why are we sinners, like sheep gone astray?
The Master Spoke.
Why all this toil, no comfort of Eden,
Since man didn't obey?
The Master Spoke.
Why work the dust of the ground, from whence we came,
And eat 'By the sweat of our brow? '
The Master Spoke.
Why do we, naturally,
Posess the desire to before,
God, want to worship and adore?
The Master Spoke.
Why is Jesus glorified,
And why, for sinners, did he die?
The Master Spoke.
Why shall God return again,
To take away Isreal, His bride?
Why me, a sinner, justified?
The Master Spoke.
Why will there be Revelations, wars,
And roomers of wars,
Nearing the End Times?
The Master Spoke.
Why is God an eternal Being,
But the world shall be no more?
The Master Spoke.
Why is it, that when a man speaks,
His words blow away
As kernals of grain,
And yet, when God speaks, his Word is as rock,
Forever to remain?
The Master Spoke -
'Heaven and Earth shall pass away,
But my words shall never pass away.'
Why do these things occur,
And as it were,
The penalty of sin man did not have to pay?
The Master Spoke -
'For God so loved the world,
That he gave his only Son,
That whoever believes in him
Shall not perish,
But have the gift of eternal life.
Why?
The Master Spoke.
'Go now! Help the needy,
And the weak!
Save hearts that are broken! '
Hurry, now!
The Master has Spoken.
poem by Macy Dvirnak
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12 Midnight
Now the master sleeps
Leaving you some of his poems
Now it is midnight
Now the master has to sleep
Take care yourselves
Take care of his poems
They are now yours,
All his disciples
The master sleeps.
Now, see, how the master breathes
Listen to the rhythm of his sighs
Some poems are coming out from
His nostrils some poems are coming out
From his mouth and ears
The master poet is asleep
Even in dreams he weaves some images
Dreamy, surreal, ephemeral, his sleep
Has rhyme & rhythm, he is a soul breathing
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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That Letter
i will be honest with you
i once wrote a letter
for you
many years ago
telling
that I LOVE YOU
but then something
wrong went with my mind
childish, immature
selfish,
fleshy, they call me
i took the letter
and read it again
under the lamp
dim
near my bed
i was hesitant to tell
you what i really feel
because i know
you would not believe me
anyway
(liar! liar! you always
call me that name)
and so let me be honest
with you
i decided not to send
it
despite its truth
i folded it
shaped it into the form
of a japanese crane
(origami, that is the
art of paper folding
and the japanese believe
that an origami crane
can cure the sick
the loved one
and i believe that
too)
i looked at it carefully
when it was finished
the shape of
a crane, the white one
with letters on it
and then i opened
my window
it was cold and dark
and i sent the
crane into the
open space
beyond me
i never dreamed
that it will reach
you
i did not believe
in love
i did not believe
in you
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Master Of Life
He is the master
the master of life
who attributes his success
to all people
he has so far met...
good ones taught him
how to live and
bad ones showed him
how not to
both of them he doesn't forget...
He attributes his success
to all people
he has so far met.....
He is master
the master of life..
he will remain forever...
poem by Mugdha Khedkar
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To follow the path, look to the master, follow the master, walk with the master, see through the master, become the master.
Am I a master
I am the master, master of art
have painted true pictures,
of rising sun, mountain, sea
through jungles flowing rivers,
shining stars, birds, cloudy sky,
can paint anything and everything.
insects, lions, bear and deer.
just like the living things.
I am the master, master of art,
can make my own paint and brush
Alas! but cannot create raw material
of any of paint, brush or canvas.
Oh! can not paint these seven
which are made only in heaven:
smell, touch, look, hear and taste,
emotions, thought and breathe.
No, I am not the master, master of art
can paint uncountable things yet not.
Not possible to paint love and laugh
I have to go again and again to learn
to the supreme master, who painted
the universe, stars, moon and sun
(C) S. D. Tiwari
poem by S.D. Tiwari
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Sonnet: Master-servant Relationship
Where Master cares for servant’s welfare too
And treats him like a fellow-man at least,
And twain help each other to grow and woo,
The Master can never become a beast.
Where servant earns his master’s goodwill first,
By doing duty, uttering no word,
The Master cannot ever turn his worst,
Nor any time from hilt remove his sword!
Thus, master, servant is inseparable;
One thinks about the other all the time;
And love is born strong like in a fable,
With other’s help, each makes his life sublime.
Think of the other’s needs much more than self,
And never work for worldly acclaim/pelf.
7-26-2002
poem by John Celes
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Just A Friendly Small Dog
Just a small brown and white jack russell with a stub for a tail
Yet when it comes to trust and loyalty his master he never fail
One who will never know of canine renown
Yet to his mentor he is the best dog in the town
With a ball or a stick he loves for to play
Just a friendly terrier friendly in every way
Yet his master with his life he'd defend
'Tis true what is said of a four legged friend
Respect for his master in love and devotion he does pay
At the gate to greet him home from work every day
With wagging stumpy tail and an excited bark
As if to say master take me to fetch ball in the park
Just a friendly small dog with a stump of a tail
But when it comes to devotion and loyalty he never does fail.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Master Of The Word
He writes with his feelings
Integrity in ever word
His poems make you think
About the why's in this world
As you read each one
You think
Been there done that before
But alas I can not say
Much about the wars
His eyes has seen
So much strife
Something I've yet to learn
I suppose I can say honestly
He's a true master with words
Respectfully I say to thee
Keep up the words you speak
I seam to be learning more
Of the world we paint with pens
With heart felt respect
I say to thee master of the words
His name is Eric Crockell
A true poet of the world
poem by Kaila George
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The Duck that Stays so Still
daily food for me
right in front of me
come rain or shine
oh master
for your love
i would die for you
anytime, this passion
in me that
runs high as the mountains
my loving master
such a friend to me
yes, i would die
for my master
the duck stays so still
for the knife to go into him one day
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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The Master Mind
The master mind, devil of evil.
Initiator of deception, creator of sorrow.
Most cunning, most assuring,
fallen emperor, proud prince.
Master mind, he masters the mind
At the entrance of the grave,
he envies the throne of grace.
author of death, father of hell
rewards flaming passions with flames of fire
and he masters the proud, master mind
He serves to master
and masters the world
beauty, wealth, power, and pride...
his own assets.
The master mind serves the world.
His empire is deception,
his agent is 'reason'
who reasons with the wise
and curses the proud into a trap
He masters the mind, who masters the world!
poem by Timothy muggaga
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Pegasus
If I am a Pegasus, the winged horse in Greek mythology.
Definitely I would have changed my stable, jockey and reins
As I want to be free myself.
I am sure that my Master would have released me
And I find a short cut for my loved ones.
I promise him to be returned with my lost identity.
Then I could have request from my Master to be a Stallion as usual
And give back the wings according to my phenomenon.
Master, please do not count my teeth as I am a workhorse without the working papers.
(To my poet friend Max.Reif)
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Patch-Up
His dog was home Alone
He didn't even have a Bone
He layed there, with big sad Eye's
Waiting for his master and his Lie's
His master Staggered In
Really stinking of Gin
Began to tell his Dog
He's late because of the Fog
Now the Dog began to Grin
He knew lying was a Sin
He looked at his Master
And saw a Big Disaster
The night was clear as a Bell
No fog for miles, as he could Tell
So his master did Lie
I guess this would be Good-Bye
The dog packed his Bags
And got all his Tags
Snook out the back Door
Didn't want to see his master Anymore
That Dog did the best that he Can
And the Master was a real bad Man
So that dog took off, for the better Life
And with that bad Man he would have no more Strife
Two years later the Dog Reappeared
He was expecting the worst, he Feared
But that bad man had cleaned up his Act
And had a wife now, as a matter of Fact
Now that Dog had a big Smile
And waiting in the back all the While
Was the dogs new 'wife' and 'Pup'
Yes, there all together now, a Great Patch-Up
P.S. And they all had a Merry Christmas, and lived happily ever after.....
poem by David Darbyshire
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Minus into minus
The chambermaid, as usual, made ready
The bedroom for her mistress and master
When the master’s eyes fell upon her shoulders,
That the mistress took note of the least.
Without any fuss, saw the mistress
The master lay his hand upon the shoulder
Of the maid. No rage, no jealousy.
She, the straying, rather felt relieved.
07.02.2003
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Stage, Film, and Much More
Conductors are made on Cloud Seven
An honour bestowed up in Heaven:
Each classical chord
Is a gift from the Lord
Ask the Master himself,
Andre Previn.
The world will never forget
Porgi & Bess, and Kismet
A Conductor of fame
London Symphony's the name.
Honours grace the top shelf
For the Master himself,
Andre Previn.
poem by Joyce Hemsley
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Chinese Way
Take a journey back in time
Leave the western world behind
Cross the mountains to Peking
Where the paper laterns gently swing
The Chinese way
Who knows what they know
The Chinese legend grows
My eyes wide open
I feel a breeze
Words softly spoken
In Cantonese
Standing at the master's side
The with patience he confides
Secret knowledge - sacred ways
Paerls of wisdom from the dragon days
I could never lie
For honour I would lie
Following the Chinese way
So many years ago hero's ruled the world
(Some died for love in a cruel world)
They were the only ones in a cruel world
I could never lie
For honour I would lie
Following the Chinese way
From the mountains to Peking
Where the paper laterns gently swing
The Chinese way
Who knows what they know
The Chinese legend grows
song performed by by Level 42
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Unlikely, Unbecoming
envious of the dog
the buffalo begins to behave like one
when the master comes
it waggles its legs and dances like a puppy
the master is angry
'this is unbecoming of you! '
the master about this is not happy
and whips the buffalo away
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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