Animal Rights(A Dog At The Temple)
There was a big temple,
busy with many worshipers,
who looked gentle and humble,
before the gods,
chanting prayer nonstop,
for a good luck,
to gain a big buck,
with burning joss-sticks in their hands.
Their wishes for wealth never end,
asking for winning lottery to become millionaires,
which seemed to god so unfair,
because they threw into donation-box only a few small coins
At that time, a hungry dog started to whine.
It was so thin and with skin disease.
The worshipers felt so disgusting and unease.
One of them shooed the dog away.
As it was slow, weak and frailed,
he picked a stone up and threw at it.
On the dog's head it directly hit.
The dog painfully cried and fled,
with its tail between its hind legs.
Related quotes
Who are near to God?
A deity was in procession.
Some carried it on their shoulders.
With the priest near the idol,
Displaying it to the crowd.
Some held lamps to give it lights.
Some were pipers and drummers.
In multitudes were worshipers.
Other than worshipers, all are paid.
Who are near to god?
12.01.2004
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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My Frog
As I was walking by a pungent lake
Just outside of Meigs,
I stopped and did a double-take,
A frog with four hind legs! ! ! ! !
He was a rather normal frog,
From his head down to his waist,
And even with his excess limbs,
He had a certain grace.
So I picked him up and took him home
And there he would be today,
If that Molly girl hadn't come along
And stolen my frog away.
She snuck into my house, that thief,
And took him from his bed,
Then later had the gall to say:
'I had to bury him cause he was dead! '
Well one day Molly came to school
And said something about her frog
And when I questioned mine's whereabouts
She said she'd found hers on a log.
She went on to say that yesterday
Her little frog had died;
She sat there a while, just sat and sat
And cried, cried, cried, cried, cried.
I went to her frog's funeral,
Just to ease my suspicious mind,
And there lay a frog with four hind legs
Which looked a lot like mine!
Once again I questioned her
About her frog's strange state
And then she told the strange tale
Which I will now relate.
As she walked through my house
She heard a small voice say,
'I will gwant you any wish
If you'll take me away.
'Fow I'm not an owdinary fwog,
And with some love and cawe,
I will be bown again with golden wings
And Heavenly will be my share.'
So she took him away with her,
Thinking surely to love and care,
For a frog who'd someday have golden rings
And wealth beyond compare.
Well she loved him and loved him with all of her heart,
Then one day he ended up dead;
She'd squeezed him and squeezed him with all of her love,
Until puss oozed out of his head.
It turned out that he'd said golden wings,
And that he'd wanted to die,
Because he'd rather fly away,
Than live his life inside.
Her selfishness he'd seen plenty of,
And my trust, he'd seen it too.
He'd known more than we two combined
Or I'm a Moldy Shoe! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
poem by Lydia Thacker
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Mistaken Identity
I could see her
Behind the glass doors
Unaware of my presence
She was busy in her work
To seek her attention
I waved at her
Threw small pebbles
At the door
So engrossed she was
Did not pay
Any heed to my efforts
I was dejected
Did not know
What more to do
In frustration
I picked a bigger pebble
Threw it with all the might
It banged against the door
Shattered the glass
With a big sound
She heard the sound
Opened the door
Yelled at me
Who are you?
And
What do you want?
I anxiously looked at her
To my surprise
She was her twin sister
Without waiting more
I ran away from there
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
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Sh.. You may be Killer Of God!
when I was kid and innocent,
Often I was hanging on her
waist,
weeping to take me into her
arms,
when she was free, She gladly fulfilled my request
But when she was busy,
She used give toys,
When my imaginations fail to
please me,
I get bored of toys and threw them away,
Then she came and told,
See god is there in toys too,
You hurt Him when you throw!
She showed Some photos and
pictures, strange to me some were with
four hands
One with an eye on forehead!
Some are having beautiful face,
Some with some strange face,
I asked her who are these, Why they have strange faces
and too many hands and eyes?
Tell me the how I look?
Is My face is like you?
She told me several stories,
I then started playing with dolls as if they are Gods!
Strangely the toys started
winking and talking with me,
When in play I talked and
laughed with them! Mother was telling the stories of
rivers, mountains and men with
fountains of extraordinary
spirits, Mother was telling more and
more stories
Mother Wanted me to sleep,
so that she can go to work!
But I was not bored of these
stories, Ever I was eager to listen, even
when I was in sleep! So many time when I fell asleep,
She fed my food and milk,
Simply I eat and drank without
knowing!
Next morning I used to complain,
No one cares when I am hungry, Where I sleep and why they
forget me,
Later I came Mother never forgot,
Only I forgot and slept! When my mother died
Too young I was and never cried, Then in dreams, one day I saw
the death of my father,
and when that dream become
true,
I never wept as I wept in dream
itself! Then my brothers and sister and
friends
And I boldly accepted,
As soldier in war field,
Then my son, I laughed and said
strange these dolls who played with me,
Fell and shattered into pieces!
Then went that Lord,
elephant headed giant,
Then to the one with three eyes
Then to the one with lion head, All came and played and Became
one with me,
Still question came to mind is it
true,
Then Buddha, then Jesus then
then finally Ever smiling Krishna, All were dwelling in me with
mother Goddess,
Then came that day when I called
no one came,
Mad I was, went wandering..
Came and sat on a grave, I was weeping, weeping And
weeping,
Oh God!
Where are you?
There came a dog,
There was a cow and donkey
Suddenly came a man who
looked mad,
In dirty clothes clad
He sat beside me and looked into
my eyes, I too looked into his
Calm lakelike eyes, The stone, the tomb, the air and
everything,
All around started saying I am
here,
I am here,
The dog, the cow, the ant at my feet and that man and trees
around me started singing,
I am here, I am here,
When I saw where that man
gone,
He become every thing, from, dirty shit of donkey to
infinite world,
Then became small and entered
my heart,
See I was always with you and
always everywhere, None can express me completely
than that pure soul,
Clean with love and kindness,
Some day if you lose these
virtues,
You kill me and crucifix Me and
I can't resurrect in dirty heart,
And you will be Killer of God!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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Inspired by Issa - New Year's Morning Temple
smoke denser
than house on fire
new year morning's temple
joss-sticks bigger
and taller than the gods
new year eve's temple
inspired by
on New Year's morning
the prayers to Buddha
come and go
-Issa,1825
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Legs, hands, legs, hands, the city grinds to a halt
when they took the subway
they threw bombs
they threw bombs
shrill, shrill, shrill,
the screams, screams, screams
louder than the train's engine
legs, hands, legs
hands, legs, hands everywhere
could not get the train going
could not get the city going
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Hoarse Red-tailed Horse.....[Short; English Language; Humor; Fantasy]
Perhaps you've read the tale of the red-tailed horse
who, after she ate eight bowls of ice cream, felt no remorse.
That night, feet uncovered, she slept on her couch (no small feat!) .
Like an arctic tern she did toss and turn, in her room with no heat.
Next morning in her room at the inn, she was hoarse and sore.
Not feeling hale, with hail falling on the moor, she vowed to eat ice cream no more.
Through her mind went 'flu'. Then (like birds flew) the 'flu' idea she threw.
For four hours she gargled, and sipped warm soup. In due time the hail melted and looked like dew.
She still could not bear bare feet. But two pairs of pears she did eat.
In time she ate squash with thyme, did not whine, had wine and some meat.
From her porch she blew a kiss to a hare with blue hair. She swatted a fly.
The next day she would dye her tail green. She was glad she did not die.
(3-31-2010)
poem by Bri Edwards
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Lucille
In a bar in toledo across from the depot
On a barstool she took off her ring
I thought Id get closer
So I walked on over
I sat down and asked her name
When the drink finally hit her
She said Im no quitter
But I finally quit living on dreams
Im hungry for laughter
And here ever after
Im after whatever the other life brings
In the mirror I saw him
I closely watch him
I thought how he looked out of place
He came to the woman
Who sat their beside me
He had a strange look on his face
The big hands are callous
He looked like a mountain
For a minute I thought I was dead
But he started shaking
His big heart was breaking
He turned to the woman and said
You picked the fine time to leave me, lucille
Four hungry children and a crop in the field
Ive had some bad time
Live thru some sad times
But this time your hurtin wouldnt heal
After he left us, I ordered more whiskey
I thought how he made him look small
From lights of the bar room to a rented hotel room
We walked without talking at all
She was a beauty, but when she came to me
She must have thought I lost my mind
I couldnt hold her, the words that he told her
Kept coming back time after time.
You picked the fine time to leave me, lucille
Four hungry children and a crop in the field
Ive had some bad time
Live thru some sad times
But this time your hurtin wouldnt heal
You picked the fine time to leave me, lucille
Four hungry children and a crop in the field
Ive had some bad time
Live thru some sad times
But this time your hurtin wouldnt heal
song performed by by Kenny Rogers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gods Great Banana Skin
Go down my road running just as fast as I can
Nobody knows which is the better way
But when that man in the sky points his finger at you
Dont you ever think no-ones better than you
Gods great banana skin
Dont you laugh at nobody
Youll let the bad luck in
Gods great banana skin
Its the way that it gets you
With every day good luck comes in the strangest of ways
Just keep your head down dont listen what your ego will say
cos when that man in the sky points his finger at you
Dont you ever think no-ones better than you
Gods great banana skin
Dont you laugh at nobody
Youll let the bad luck in
Gods great banana skin
Its the way that it gets you
Gods great banana skin
Gods great banana skin
When that man in the sky points his finger at you
Dont you ever think no-ones better than you
Dont you ever think no-ones better than you
Gods great banana skin
Gonna get you
Gods great banana skin
song performed by by Chris Rea
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It Does Seem A Very Hard Thing To Explain
It does seem a very hard thing to explain
Why one person's loss is another one's gain
A downturn in the stockmarket millionaires to paupers does create
Whilst some from others loss gain and their good fortune celebrate
In a fair society this never would be
Though what's fair to you may not seem fair to me
That somebody's huge financial loss creates a new millionaire
That society is structured in this way to me seems unfair
'Tis an ill wind that does not blow somebody good you do hear some say
And sometimes lady luck behaves in the strangest way
But is this what the Human World is all about
For one for to win someone else must lose out
And that many must lose for a few for to gain
For to say the least seems a hard thing to explain.
poem by Francis Duggan
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I Remember A Time
I remember a time when all was still
I climbed a small but bounteous hill.
The perfumed air was everywhere
and peace had come to visit there.
I looked around so I could see
if anyone had followed me.
But, no I found myself alone
and looked down at a tiny stone.
I picked it up and as time passed
I placed it back so it would last.
For all things should have its home.
None should be taken or have to roam.
I remember a time when I was still.
I felt quietness upon that hill.
I stayed for more than an hour or two
and then looked down and saw a view
that I knew could never compare with this.
I also sensed that I would miss
this little hill and the little stone
that showed me what it is I own.
I own the stillness of yesterday.
I own the peace of come what may.
And I understand that where I've grown
I'm just as content as that little stone.
If you enjoyed this poem please visit my bookstore at
stores.lulu.com/reizerj
poem by Edwina Reizer
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I Am... (Namaste, Number Two)
i picked up the broken pieces
of glass when you threw her picture,
and closed your eyes
as you stared at the walls.
i walked with you to the mailbox,
day after day....
i am the letter
your daughter never wrote.
i helped you dig the hole
to bury that old dog,
and mouthed the words of the prayer
that no one heard.
i walked with you down the aisle,
the best day of your life.
i helped your shaking hands
sprinkle dirt on the casket,
forty years later.
i felt your excitement,
the first time you made love.
almost drunk with the gentleness,
and the closeness that takes.
when you were old and alone,
i picked up your Bible,
and read to you,
words you'd almost forgotten.
i am the drunkard,
the addict, and the whore.
i am the preacher,
the lawyer, and the businessman.
i am the boy, the girl,
the man and the woman.
i am your religion,
and something deeper and stronger.
i am the image you dreamed of yourself.
i am the body you walked in..
the hands you touched with!
i am you,
and need be nothing more,
and most of all...
nothing less!
namaste!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Coventry Mary
Coventry Mary out for a walk,
Saw a cat and stopped for a talk
''Hi little cat', Mary said
Stroked her tail and stroked her head.
Then lifted the lid of a wheelie bin,
Picked up the cat and threw her in!
poem by Mark Sellen
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‘Dogo Erectus’!
Standing on its hind-legs,
Wagging its long tail,
Panting with its tongue out,
Without its fore-legs!
Stands a dog so freak-born,
Until dusk, from morn;
Passers-by go pat him,
Giving things to eat!
Smiling canine always,
Walks like human beings;
With its hind-legs strong as
A Kangaroo’s back-feet!
Thrilling all the people,
Peering at the beast;
Stupefying crowds that
Throng to see his feat!
Living with just hind-legs,
The dog can’t go on fours;
Smiling to the people,
Everywhere, he goes.
Having just but two legs,
The dog walks, runs so neat;
‘What undaunted soul, God! ’
Say people on the street.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 6-26-2008
poem by John Celes
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A Love Story?
A love Story.
I looked down into the open grave the coffin was white until someone
threw a handful dry soil on its lid. Unreal it had nothing to with me, we
had met forty years ago and she left me saying she didn’t love me more.
I turned away, looked towards the bay, it was transparent, I could see fish
swim about, on its floor crabs, lobster that had escaped the net, and
sea plants swaying in the mild current. I poem floated up to the surface of
my consciousness I shook my head this is unseemly, threw the poem back
into a dreamy mere, like an angler who has caught very a small trout, saw
it float in the dark water of my restless mind. Her husband was crying
I embraced him “You loved her too, ” he whispered. I looked to the bay it
was blue and I couldn’t see clearly anymore, I was no longer sure whether
I had loved her as much as he had.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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The Dolls Braided Her Hair
She wove ribbons in her hair,
the gold strands mixing with the red.
It help her naivety,
her innocence until she met Kindergarten
who tore the ribbons from her hair
and threw them to the wind.
He carried distant memories
even further from her.
She lost everything to the wind,
trading it for logic and friends.
They cut her hair and threw some into story books,
burning them before her eyes.
Her dolls cried alone in her room
as they huddled together,
braiding the hair that had been cut from her head.
It made a crown of red and gold strands.
She ignored the crown and it disintegrated.
Years later when her own daughter was
talking to the dolls,
they told her about the crown.
She cried, and they braided her hair,
weaving it with ribbons.
poem by Andrea Stuckey
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Dross coins and wealth
i.
Dross coins and wealth
Dross coins and wealth
Dross coins and wealth
You wallow in them
You think of them again, again
Dross coins and wealth
Dross coins and wealth
Dross coins and wealth
One even grey a blank vacant sterility.
ii.
Round the green hill
The rivulet glideth:
The birds flieth
The owl singeth
How happy is the earth to-day!
iii.
From the small dale
The shepherd voice ariseth
Into a sweet canticle
As the day falleth
As the red dusk cometh
And night in mantle dark
By the next dale is coming
Coming fast:
Coming fast
Like sleep
Sleep
Sleep
Welcome sleep
The night cometh
The skies are darkening:
The stars are twinkling
And one by one
Coming like Morpheus with his wand
Into the next sleep beginning
The eye-lids how drowsy lie
And flicker like torch-lights
Slowly
Slowly
Slowly
Mor pheus is breathing slow
His hot and wanton breath
Over my forehead:
So sleep cometh, welcome sleep.
And dream I with open eyes
And through the night
Look I upon the stars in sleep
And dreaming wake and waking dream again.
poem by Emmanuel George Cefai
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The Creation of the Moon
The man cut his throat and left his head there.
The others went to get it.
When they got there they put the head in a sack.
Farther on the head fell out onto the ground.
They put the head back in the sack.
Farther on the head fell out again.
Around the first sack they put a second one that
was thicker.
But the head fell out just the same.
It should be explained that they were taking the head
to show to the others.
They did not put the head back in the sack.
They left it in the middle of the road.
They went away.
They crossed the river.
But the head followed them.
They climbed up a tree full of fruit
to see whether it would go past.
The head stopped at the foot of the tree
and asked them for some fruit.
So the men shook the tree.
The head went to get the fruit.
Then it asked for some more.
So the men shook the tree
so that the fruit fell into the water.
The head said it couldn't get the fruit from there.
So the men threw the fruit a long way
to make the head go a long way to get it so they could go.
While the head was getting the fruit
the men got down from the tree and went on.
The head came back and looked at the tree
and didn't see anybody
so went on rolling down the road.
The men had stopped to wait
to see whether the head would follow them.
They saw the head come rolling.
They ran.
They got to their hut they told the others that the head
was rolling after them and to shut the door.
All the huts were closed tight.
When it got there the head commanded them to open the doors.
The owners would not open them because they were afraid.
So the head started to think what it would turn into.
If it turned into water they would drink it.
If it turned into earth they would walk on it.
If it turned into a house they would live in it.
If it turned into a steer they would kill it and eat it.
If it turned into a cow they would milk it.
If it turned into a bean they would cook it.
If it turned into the sun
When men were cold it would heat them.
If it turned into rain the grass would grow and the
animals would crop it.
So it thought, and it said, "I will turn into the moon."
It called, "Open the doors, I want to get my things."
They would not open them.
The head cried. It called out, "At least give me
my two balls of twine."
They threw out the two balls of twine through a hole.
It took them and threw them into the sky.
It asked them to throw it a little stick too
to roll the thread around so it could climb up.
Then it said, "I can climb, I am going to the sky."
It started to climb.
The men opened the doors right away.
The head went on climbing.
The men shouted, "You going to the sky, head?"
It didn't answer.
As soon as it got to the Sun
it turned into the Moon.
Toward evening the Moon was white, it was beautiful.
And the men were surprised
to see that the head had turned into the Moon.
Radio Sweetheart
My head is spinning and my legs are weak
Goose step dancing, cant hear myself speak
Hope in the eyes of the ugly girls
That settle for the lies of the last chancers
When slow motion drunks pick wallflower dancers
You come here looking for the ride to glory
Go back home with a hard luck story
I can hardly wait around until the weekend comes to town
Play one more for my radio sweetheart
Hide your love, hide your love
Though we are so far apart
Youve got to hide your love
cause thats the way the whole thing started
I wish we had never parted
When its late and the night gets colder
Dont lay your head on any other shoulder
Some hire themselves out for a good time
But you and i, we have been sold
So I keep on saying...
Play one more for my radio sweetheart
Hide your love, hide your love
Though we are so far apart
Youve got to hide your love
cause thats the way the whole thing started
I wish we had never parted
Play one more for my radio sweetheart
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Someone once threw me a small, brown, hairy kiwi fruit, and I threw a wastebasket over it until it was dead.
quote by Erma Bombeck
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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