Vow Of Silence
Kron joins the monastery;
he must stay in isolation
and is allowed to say 2 words
every three years
3 years pass
and Kron is brought before
the Elders
and he is allowed his 2 words
“Cold room, ” he says
3 years later
again Kron is brought before
the Elders
and he is allowed his 2 words
“Bad food, ” he says
3 years later
again Kron is brought before
the Elders
and he is allowed his 2 words
“I quit, ” he says
“Not surprising, ” say the Elders
“All you have done since you came here is to complain”
poem by Raj Arumugam
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Related quotes
My Fore-Elders
When from the child, that still is led
By hand, a father's hand is gone, ---
Or when a few-year'd mother dead
Has left her children growing on, ---
When men have left their children staid,
And they again have boy and maid, ---
O, can they know, as years may roll,
Their children's children, soul by soul?
If this with souls in heaven can be,
Do my fore-elders know of me?
My elders' elders, man and wife,
Were borne full early to the tomb,
With children still in childhood life
To play with butterfly or bloom.
And did they see the seasons mould
Their faces on, from young to old,
As years might bring them, turn by turn,
A time to laugh or time to mourn?
If this with souls in heaven can be,
Do my fore-elders know of me?
How fain I now would walk the floor
Within their mossy porch's bow,
Or linger by their church's door,
Or road that bore them to and fro,
Or nook where once they build their mow,
Or gateway open to their plough
(Though now indeed no gate is swung
That their live hands had ever hung ), ---
If I could know that they would see
Their child's late child, and know of me.
poem by William Barnes
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I Should Be Allowed To Think
I saw the best minds of my generation
Destroyed by madness, starving, hysterical
I should be allowed to glue my poster
I should be allowed to think
I should be allowed to glue my poster
I should be allowed to think
I should be allowed to think
I should be allowed to think
And I should be allowed to blurt the merest idea
If by random whim, one occurs to me
If necessary, leave paper stains on the grey utility pole
I saw the worst bands of my generation
Applied by magic marker to dry wall
I should be allowed to shoot my mouth off
I should have a call in show
I should be allowed to glue my poster
I should be allowed to think
I should be allowed to think
I should be allowed to think
And I should be allowed to blurt the merest idea
If by random whim, one occurs to me
If necessary, leave paper stains on the grey utility pole
I am not allowed
To ever come up with a single original thought
I am not allowed
To meet the criminal government agent who oppresses me
I was the worst hope of my generation
Destroyed by madness, starving, hysterical
I should be allowed to share my feelings
I should be allowed to feel
I should be allowed to glue my poster
I should be allowed to think
I should be allowed to think
I should be allowed to think
And I should be allowed to blurt the merest idea
If by random whim one occurs to me
But sadly, this can never be
I am not allowed to think
I am not allowed to think
I am not allowed to think (I am not allowed to think)
I am not allowed to think (I am not allowed to think)
I am not allowed to think (I am not allowed to think)
I am not allowed to think (I am not allowed to think)
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Older Than
You are not older than your parents who gave birth to you!
Neither are you older than the elders in town;
So, try to listen to your parents and the words of the elders,
Because life is full of rules!
And you may easily burn your hands if you do not listen to them.
Life is full of experiences,
And experience is the best teacher!
That is why you have to listen to your parents and your elders,
Because they have had enough life experiences! !
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Am I Allowed
Am I allowed
To wish not to breathe?
Am I allowed
To skip over tomorrow?
And,
Am I allowed
Not to believe,
Who it is that speaks.
Or,
Whom everybody follows?
Am I allowed
To want my own needs?
Am I allowed
Not to beg or borrow.
Am I allowed
Not to be deceived,
By who those that I know
Are low, lazy and shallow?
Am I allowed
My own company?
Am I allowed
To float or row my boat?
And,
Am I allowed
To see what I see,
Who it is that show
Not which way to go?
Am I allowed
To want my own needs?
Am I allowed
Not to beg or borrow.
Am I allowed
Not to be deceived,
By who those that I know
Are low, lazy and shallow?
Am I allowed
My own company?
Am I allowed
To float or row my boat?
And,
Am I allowed
To see what I see,
Who it is that show
Not which way to go?
Am I allowed
To wish not to breathe?
Am I allowed
To skip over tomorrow?
And,
Am I allowed
Not to believe,
Who it is that speaks.
Or,
Whom everybody follows?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Wasted Words Of All The Years
THE WASTED WORDS OF ALL THE YEARS
The wasted words of all the years-
The time given to them-
A lifetime given to words
Never to be read.
Yet how I lived in those years.
And what hope I had in those words
And how I told my dreams in them
And how I tried to help those I loved.
No one needs the words
And no one wants them
But perhaps the life itself
In writing them
That too counts.
All the years of the words and the dreams and the hopes and the love of those I loved and the striving for greatness not to be.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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The Younger Ones
The younger ones,
Do not wish any part of it.
The fragmentation solicited...
Or the family divisiveness.
They have witnessed what the elders have done.
And this has made many of them turn away quick.
Because the younger ones wish,
Not to have any of the negative rifts!
They have witnessed what the elders have done.
And the elders are the ones that do not get it!
The younger ones,
Do not wish any part of this.
In their hearts and in their minds,
The youngers ones may not express it.
But their actions are quite dramatic.
And observing that is obvious and emphatic.
The younger ones have had it!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Day Old Shep Died
it's been thirty years,
that he's been gone,
the day he died, brought tears,
all day, i played his song.
for nine long years,
i loved him and he loved me,
the day he died, broght tears,
toward the end, he could barely see.
when he died, i was seventeen years,
my child hood died that day,
the day he died, brought tears,
during his youth, we were always at play.
him and i was, so close in years,
when i got shep he was five and i eight,
the day he died brought tears,
he always ate his meals, off our plate.
he died at eighty-four in human years,
he lived to a ripe old age,
the day he died brought tears,
for this poem, he set the stage.
i can't believe, its been so many years,
i think about him, all the time,
the day he died, brought tears,
but old shep, was all mind.
of all these many years,
no dog has taken the place of old shep,
the day he died, brought tears,
i'll always remember, that dog with pep
in memory of old shep 1946-1960 written june 21,1990
If
IF
BY
JAMES BREDIN AUG 9TH,2012
If we had binding referendums like the Swiss have had for years,
Could we maybe interrupt some useless political careers?
Or maybe proportional representation or a plebiscite,
Unfortunately Ottawa aristocrats don't have this appetite.
If we could eventually elect senators or judges?
Could we show that the system doesn't run on hidden grudges?
If we were finally allowed death with dignity?
Could we wish them well as we die without pain or indignity?
If they finally brought down mandatory voting for us,
Or a twenty dollar fine at tax time more or less,
If constituents had recall allowed of their own politician,
Am I getting ahead of myself or is this just superstition?
AUG 9TH,2012
poem by James Bredin
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Four Years Old
Hey
Why'd you wake me from my nap?
I'm not in the mood
To play your games
Or sit on your lap
You
Where's my Yankees drinking glass?
I want some juice
And I want it now
So you better move your ass
And feel bad for me
'Cuz I'm just getting over a cold
I'm four years old!
I'm four years old!
I'm four years old!
Somebody better tie my shoes!
Now
I run down the hall
I scream and I yell
And I cry 'cuz I fell
Bring the rubbing alcohol
Outside
I get mud on my shoe
I come back in the house
I get it on the rug
The cleanging's up to you
And I won't take a bath
Unless you make me Spaghetti-O's
I'm four years old!
I'm four years old!
I'm four years old!
Mommy reads to me at night
Charlie and the Chocolate Factory
Well
I can't have a job
And I can't go to school
If no grownups are around
I can't go near the pool
I'm not alowed to climb
My neighbor's apple tree
I'm not allowed to sit
Too close to the TV
I don't know how to drive
And I don't know how to spell
But if I hear my brother cursing
I do know how to tell
'Cuz he made me eat some bread
That was covered in mold
I'm four years old!
I'm four years old!
I'm four years old!
I just threw up on my grandmother
song performed by by Adam Sandler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Polygamy Dillema
My Elders, listen to me
By your feet, who listened, was me
Atrophy, you got me,
She, a virgin land, and fertile
that, your names have come
and their faces, stars glow, a like.
Elders, listen to me
That, my hands I fold, down is my knee
A trophy, I have got for me
In her, my blood flows, Listen to me,
Through her eyes, I see, her heart holds me
Serene, a lone, naïve,
Other glowing stars, a promise.
Elders, listen to me
That your choice
As my choice
The same.
That none to her lands would go
Listen, the turn is mine, you do?
poem by Charles Jagongo Ogola
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A no to blow
Though I did not believe in blow
the inner thoughts started to flow
t restrained my stupid action
I had violently offered my reaction
He was my real elder brother
His behavior always made us to bother
he was trying to destabilize
the father had taken enough care to mobilize
we were knitted together and stayed as joint family
lived under one roof and spent the life happily
as is with joint family, we simply followed
All had complete freedom and in fact were allowed
The elders look up on others to cooperate
sometimes they get together and openly narrate
Their continued struggle and pain to occupy the dignified space
how it was do or die struggle for them in the race?
We never meant to be impolite to the elders
They carried all burden on their solders
we were never brought in picture at any stage
They labored hard to keep us safe and well managed
The peaceful life sometimes is violently disturbed
No one thinks or takes pain to go into cause and probe
There is deep feeling for things to let off or pass
the situation is thus saved to keep peace
All members really desire to stay intact
this realized by them and understood in fact
No one dares to go out of the set establishment
it is strong bond that stops them from such movement
When situation comes to the exchange of blows
the things do not remain with natural flow
everything is disturbed and peace is pushed away
the need to patch up is there but does not find the way
Elders are worried and try to maintain good rapport
it has been built up with lots of pain and efforts
it is as good as undoing of their life time labor
rest of the family members bear ill will and harbor
I witnessed such incidence one day
every member was crossing the limit to come in the way
it was going out of hand and creating suffocation
this was not good for us and showed clear indication
No right thinking man may want uncertainty
He may try to maintain it with dignity
Any word of dishonor may upset his integrity
He might have not expected such eventuality
Some one has to enter into fray and stave off the situation
There can not be peace with its continuation
it has to be brought down with strict hand
You can never live with such negative trend
Being eldest I had no patience to wait
it was disturbing and threatening to seal our fate
There was none who could bring it under control
the result was clearly seen as writing on the wall
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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The old is with lust unspent
Elders rather than lads are thirsty of women.
Elders’ desire accumulates for want of drain
Owing to their sagging physical energy.
The old is always a threat to young women.
06.10.2000
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Unfaithfulness
When Thetis and Peleus got married
Apollo stood up at the sumptuous wedding feast
and blessed the bridal pair
for the son who would come from their union.
'Sickness will never visit him,' he said,
'and his life will be a long one.'
This pleased Thetis immensely:
the words of Apollo, expert in prophecies,
seemed a guarantee of security for her child.
And when Achilles grew up
and all Thessaly said how beautiful he was,
Thetis remembered the god's words.
But one day some elders came in with the news
that Achilles had been killed at Troy.
Thetis tore her purple robes,
pulled off rings, bracelets,
flung them to the ground.
And in her grief, remembering that wedding scene,
she asked what the wise Apollo was up to,
where was this poet who spouts
so eloquently at banquets, where was this prophet
when they killed her son in his prime?
And the elders answered that Apollo himself
had gone down to Troy
and with the Trojans had killed her son.
poem by Constantine P. Cavafy
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During Wind and Rain
THEY sing their dearest songs--
He, she, all of them--yea,
Treble and tenor and bass.
And one to play;
With the candles mooning each face....
Ah, no; the years O!
How the sick leaves reel down in throngs!
They clear the creeping moss--
Elders and juniors--aye,
Making the pathways neat
And the garden gay;
And they build a shady seat....
Ah, no; the years, the years;
See, the white storm-birds wing across!
They are blithely breakfasting all--
Men and maidens--yea,
Under the summer tree,
With a glimpse of the bay,
While pet fowl come to the knee....
Ah, no; the years O!
And the rotten rose is ripped from the wall.
They change to a high new house,
He, she, all of them--aye,
Clocks and carpets and chairs
On the lawn all day,
And brightest things that are theirs....
Ah, no; the years, the years;
Down their carved names the raindrop plows.
poem by Thomas Hardy
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The words of the elders do not lock all the doors, they leave the right door open.
It is the duty of children to wait on elders, and not the elders on children.
Father Shouted
"Go to hell, father shouted"
It was addressed to me no doubt
How was I to take his outburst?
Sometimes, I felt. It was needed or must
We receive disrespectful words from elders
But they are all our well wishers
Even if something is said directly
They are not to be taken disrespectfully
In family sometimes youngsters get no notice
This is general feeling and practice
It doesn't mean they are neglected
They are looked after well and certainly acted
But as age advances, you got to forget
Life is meant for kids and their growth to let
If they want to behave in different manner
We need to give room and garner
No doubts elder behave irresponsibly
But need to remind them to act sensibly
Not to come out with extreme measure
This certainly does not help or assure
We must watch them to grow in healthy atmosphere
They should look towards us in dignified manner
It becomes then balanced approach to tackle
Where elders rush to the rescue in case of any troubles
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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I savour the adulation and love I have been getting from my fans and the blessings of elders in my family. Fourteen years have given me a lot and I can't thank God and the industry enough.
quote by Akshay Kumar
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Twenty- Fifth Yahrtzeit Of My Father
Dad I have written so many words about you
I have repeated your words again and again
I have described you
Laughed and cried in remembrance of you and Ma
All these years-
But what is it to you?
What does it all mean?
Is it ‘all just a dream'
There also?
Have these passing years meant anything for you?
Do you know of us and are you aware of all that has happened?
And when I come there most likely less than twenty- five years now
Will we meet again?
And will this longing to meet you end with nothing
Or with its realization?
Or perhaps will it never end
As we will both long from there too
Of the time we had together here for forty - five years?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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