We Cry For Light, O Mother!
There came up a light
On an impoverished Calcutta street,
It was really so bright
That poverty's darkness feared to meet.
It was our dear Mother,
Teresa by name
There's really no other
Ever just the same.
She saw how people were in misery
And how disease and poverty did thrive,
She opened her heart's treasury,
And all through her life did strive.
She set up and let bloom
The Missionaries of Charity
And that she let groom
To spread the mission of humanity.
She was a true angel
Who became our leading light,
And showed us to love and mingle
With all those who suffered in sight.
We love you, O dear Mother!
You are still our inspiration,
And still make us unite together
To free from misery one world, one nation!
poem by Udayan Chatterjee
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Related quotes
St. Mother Teresa (2)
How could the world ignore the poor in streets?
How could the world neglect the souls sans sheets?
How could the world revel in happy meets?
How could the world deny the suffering, sweets?
How could one live in affluence when most,
In poverty and misery, lives spent?
How could one live in skyscrapers and rent,
The shelterless and starved souls, the pavement?
How could one serve the Creator unseen,
By being stingy, cruel, selfish and mean?
How could one walk unmindful of the scene,
When neighbors looked famished, ravished and lean?
How can you hate your neighbor and love God?
How can you sin and yet escape God’s rod?
The world is not as good as it was made;
The good we do nevertheless can’t fade.
In deep waters, no one can ever wade;
To love your neighbor as yourself, God bade;
Mother Teresa listened to God’s call;
Maybe, life was to her like bitter gall!
But, Jesus would lift her when she did fall.
The dying souls needed at least a pall!
She hadn’t the money to buy from a stall;
Her ambition to serve the poor was tall!
The future looked gloomy and like a wall!
She prayed to God to give her all the grace;
She wore a smile and showed a pleasant face;
While Kolkata served as her Indian base.
She had the world at large, all in her gaze!
And she would come out of this virtual maze;
And she would turn on to a running pace!
She saw through all the mist and fog and haze.
God helped her to finish in style, her race!
Her message read, “Love God through fellowmen.”
The world can be better if not Heaven!
The world could be made for all more even
By her Missionaries of Charity’s-haven!
Dedicated to Mother Teresa and her Missionaries of Charity
by dr john celes, COIMBATORE, T.N., India
poem by John Celes
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What Else Can Be Done
dont make poverty an excuse
god gave you mind you better make its use
no matter if you are born in the poverty's slum
while some are handicap, blind and dumb
its better to work hard and strive
and make education bone of your life
for studying makes you dignified
and helps your nation feel pride worldwide
as a good citizen select a right politician
who have perfection to lead your nation
let's remove poverty from our country
which compells a mother to sell her baby
prove yourself and show the world what you can be
inspite of being idle and blindly following your destiny
when there is a will there is a way
after every dark night there is bright sunny day
poem by Fahmina Arjumand Misha
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Misery
children all over the world in poverty, hunger and misery.
is this the way it's supposed to be?
is this the reason they were brought into this world?
is this what you want to see for your little boy and girl
as adults can't we see-we have to stop this hunger and misery.
god has given us the power to concieve
so let us set our children free.
free of what we have created-poverty, hunger and hatred.
let us work to become as one
let our children see the sun
for right now their world is in a dark mist
with not a flicker of light to be found.
their hopes torn to the ground..
there has to be a place to start.
search your heart-search your mind
the answer is within our grasp
it is something that has to last.
poem by Louis Rams
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We think sometimes that poverty is only being hungry, naked and homeless. The poverty of being unwanted, unloved and uncared for is the greatest poverty. We must start in our own homes to remedy this kind of poverty.
quote by Mother Teresa
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Unborn Child
She said to me:
Mother, do you love me?
Yes, my dear, I did say back
She said to me:
Mother, do you want me?
Yes, my love, I cried back
She said to me:
Mother, when and how?
I said to her:
Never ever dear,
only in my dreams,
You are here…
You are my wish
That may never come true
Thanks to the Man,
Who never wished to…
My daintiest darling,
looked at me,
and did ask me:
Who is it, Mother,
Who doesn’t want me?
Tell Him: being born of love,
I’ll only love, and love ever more,
Him and Thee, and this world for sure…
Tears streaming…
Heart wrenching out…
I said to her,
It is, your daddy dear,
Who doesn’t want you…
He loathes you, and loathes me too,
to make my dream ever come true.
So, my loveliest princess,
Let me cradle you…
hold you to my bosom,
and lovingly kiss you,
in my dreams…
The Reality is too harsh,
For you to be born…
So forgive me, my dear
You are mummy’s dream
That can never come true…
Thanks, to your daddy dear,
Who can never give you…
To Me.
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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Misery One O One
there is this philosophy
(and i assure you it is adopted by many
perhaps,
without their knowing it) that-
when we make ourselves miserable
people who are miserable
(and the majority is miserable
for quite long)
...will love you for it, since you are like a fallen angel
from up there
and here you are without wings and muddy and bruised
and very much like all of them
and now
with them.
they will love you for this misery
and since you have not really experienced true love
(since you feel that you are abandoned
and molested by whom, how do i know?)
you accept
love in misery
misery loving another misery
misery that seeks company
and here is company....
and so look at this paradox of you
(you do not deserve this, but you choose it just the same)
happy, so happy, in the midst of miserable people
wallowing in misery
the big house in the exclusive millionaire's row
where you once lived
waits for you
you can be there anytime you want
as you still immerse in that feigned misery
Misery 101.
They will give you a grade for that.
Have fun.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Poverty In The 21st Century
It’s the 21st century
The media displays it day and night,
Poverty.
Poverty across the globe lies
Poverty cries out from the belly of little boys
Little girls, parents too
Desperately searching for food,
Shelter, clothing, for love,
Companion, for attention
Those with plenty, refuse
To amend, a world haunted by
Poverty.
Is poverty affecting the rich?
Are their poverty the same
As the poor in financial constrains?
For they, too, poverty of love
I see poverty in the learned
I see poverty in those whose
Selfish acts are destroying society.
I see poverty in all level of humanity
The world is still an imperfect place
Yet life is still beautiful, the wind
Blows, we see it not, give thanks
For what you possess, now go,
Help if you can along the way,
Help to eradicate poverty
In your surrounding, widen
Your boundary across your
Country, to nations of the world.
Help to fight poverty, now!
poem by Winston Harding
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Peace In The Light
Like Moths to a flame, trying to see,
The poor in spirit, seek to break free,
To avoid the abyss,
Search with all their might,
Where will they find the Light?
Once seen, always mean,
Must find a way to dull the bright,
How can we destroy the Light?
Those that love draw them nearer,
The door to inner Light is clearer,
To live life to the full, it is dear,
No way to live in fear,
Love and Light lie within us all,
Once seen, always agleam,
Must find a way to stay bright,
How can we spread the Light?
Spirit leads to colours bright,
Dark always enhances the Light,
Contrasts show us the way,
Deep within we can keep darkness at bay!
Once seen, always agleam,
Must find a way to stay bright,
How can we spread the Light,
April 2012
poem by David Andre' Klopper
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To Mother Dear on Mother’s Day 2010
We miss you mother dear, it’s true!
You were alive just days ago;
You vanished like the morning dew;
You’re gone to be with God, we know!
The love and care, you gave us, mom,
We know we can never repay;
Your lullabies in ears still hum;
We wish we could meet you some day!
From dawn till dusk, you slogged for us;
Oh, what a fine mother, you’ve been!
You walked more than going by bus;
You showed us how to avoid sin.
Oh, mother dear! Oh, mother dear!
You were a star upon this earth;
You seem afar and yet so near;
We thank you God for mother’s birth!
By death, you are just gone awhile;
We’ll pray for you the rest of life;
You successfully ran your mile,
As God helped you confront all strife.
We pray, your soul must rest in peace;
May Blessed Virgin bless you dear;
We hope our painful days soon cease,
May God take off our ever fear!
Fondly dedicated to my sweet mother,
(Late) Mrs.STELLA, CBE
Copyright by Dr John Celes 5-7-2010
poem by John Celes
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Goodbye Mother Dear
Mother, mother, mother dear,
Can you hold me close, can you hold me near?
Mother, mother, oh mother dear,
Will you listen, listen to my words of fear?
Mother, I am inside your womb.
Mother, you hold the key.
Mother, is it too late, too soon?
Mother, what do you see?
I hear your heart beat, beat, beat,
It comforts me when I am asleep.
I feel your warmth, I feel your heat,
But mother dear, I feel you weep.
Mother, I am so full of fear.
Mother, I see it in your tear.
Mother, I know you cry and why.
Mother, I know we must say goodbye.
(if only you could let me grow
my love to you then i could show
but that i know cannot be so
the time has come for me to go)
Mother, mother, mother dear,
Do not feel guilt, do not feel fear.
Mother, mother, oh mother dear,
For a while, you held me near.
© Morney Wilson
poem by Morney Wilson
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Dear Guardian Angel
Dear Guardian Angel
Thank you for watching over me
Dear Guardian Angel
You are oh so sweet
You protect me from the wrong
And lead me to the right
If I’m lost in the dark
You take me to the light
Dear Guardian Angel
Why do you care?
Dear Guardian Angel
Thank you for always being there
You take my hand
And wipe away my tears
You hold me close
And fight away my fears
Dear Guardian Angel
Please stay close to me
Dear Guardian Angel
Thank you, I know you’ll always believe
You watch me sleeping quietly
You caress my face lovingly
You brush my bangs out of my eyes
You give me sunny skies
Dear Guardian Angel
Can I make it up to you?
Dear Guardian Angel
Thank you for always being true
Guardian Angel
I thank you
Guardian Angel…
I thank you
poem by Tyra Falconwing
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Mother India
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
You are the paradise on earth
Where things are not in any dearth.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
In Your Lap live men and women
Of every caste and religion.
You rain your love and affection
On them all without distinction.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
You have got a peculiar trait
Due to which you are very great.
You adopt the foreigners too,
Who like to live and die for you.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
You are beautiful, all perfect;
You are rich in every aspect.
In the ancient times, we have heard,
Aliens called you ‘a golden bird’
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
The mountains guard your honour here;
The ocean washes your feet there.
The rivers contain sweet water
Which for us is just like nectar.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
Our culture is ancient and high,
We are respected that is why.
Culture has bound us by and by,
With a chain of pure love and tie.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
We are sorry here live some men
Who are not loyal, but still then,
Pose as lovers of this nation,
Whom we do not like to mention.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
We are sorry here live some men;
Fire of hatred they ever fan.
Freedom, we fear, may not be lost,
Which we have got at a great cost.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
Let us be wise not to be tool
Of selfish powers which befool
Those who do not well understand
Their aim which is behind their stand.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
We will be lucky, if we die
For you, O Gracious Country High!
We’ll give them a fitting reply,
Who see you with a slanting eye.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
poem by Aziz Ahmad
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Enough is Enough
in the Calvary Jesus call God in a swiping voice
Father, hold me near in your mercy, as Mother
Teresa of Calcutta, whisper God in her conquest
to end the misery of the people of India
sound of disappear it may seem, a truth that blind
and close the heart that listen for all, gnashing your
soul it may not fall in the wilderness of fear, wishing
as it hold the emptiness of the soul, let me hide in
your vest of pure
life experienced the best of despair and suffer the
mutilated body in every stair, ladder my meekness
and hug me in loving care; enough is enough in
every affair
i entomb myself with all the pain, embattle my
wonder in the harmony of what you see, i am what
it fall and stand; a rise in the stage you give, believe
me my dear soul the end does not call to fall, push
me not to the limit, i wish i could still ask to seek
your way
here is myself, open to your mercy and my memory
could be still in you forever, i would be free......
poem by Antonio Liao
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Hattie House
Air -- "Lily Dale"
Come all kind friends, wherever you may be,
Come listen to what I say,
It's of a little girl that was pleasant to see,
And she died while out doors at play.
CHORUS:
Oh! Hattie, dear Hattie,
Sweet little Hattie House --
May the flowers ever bloom o'er the little tomb,
Of our loved one, Hattie House.
She had blue eyes and light flaxen hair,
Her little heart was light and gay,
She said to her mother, that morning fair,
"Mother, can I go out and play?"
Her mother tied her bonnet on,
Not thinking it would be the last
She would ever see her dear little one
In this world, little Hattie House.
She left the house, this dear little girl,
On that bright and pleasant day --
She went to play with two little girls
That were near about her age.
She was not gone but a little while
When they heard her playmates call --
Her friends hastened there to save the child,
Alas, she was dead and gone.
Those little girls will not forget
The day little Hattie died,
For she was with them when she fell in a fit,
While playing by their side.
She was her parents' only child,
And her age was near six years,
And now she has left them for a while --
Left all her friends in tears.
She has left this world of grief and woe,
Dear friends, she has left behind --
She is waiting on the other shore,
To meet them bye and bye.
One fine morning, the fifth of July,
The summer flowers were in bloom,
Eighteen seventy-one, little Hattie died,
And is sleeping in her tomb.
poem by Julia A Moore
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Mother India
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
You are the paradise on earth
Where things are not in any dearth.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
In Your Lap live men and women
Of every caste and religion.
You rain your love and affection
On them all without distinction.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
You have got a peculiar trait
Due to which you are very great.
You adopt the foreigners too,
Who like to live and die for you.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
You are beautiful, all perfect;
You are rich in every aspect.
In the ancient times, we have heard,
Aliens called you ‘a golden bird’
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
The mountains guard your honour here;
The ocean washes your feet there.
The rivers contain sweet water
Which for us is just like nectar.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
Our culture is ancient and high,
We are respected that is why.
Culture has bound us by and by,
With a chain of pure love and tie.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
We are sorry here live some men
Who are not loyal, but still then,
Pose as lovers of this nation,
Whom we do not like to mention.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
We are sorry here live some men;
Fire of hatred they ever fan.
Freedom, we fear, may not be lost,
Which we have got at a great cost.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
Let us be wise not to be tool
Of selfish powers which befool
Those who do not well understand
Their aim which is behind their stand.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
We will be lucky, if we die
For you, O Gracious Country High!
We’ll give them a fitting reply,
Who see you with a slanting eye.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
poem by Aziz Ahmad 'Aziz Moradabadi'
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Poverty-I
Lot of hunger and having no food is poverty,
Not having spare cloth to take bath is poverty,
Needing a shelter but not having one is poverty,
Child's sick but can not buy treatment, is poverty,
Fainting child dreaming a mouthful of rice is poverty
Searching warmth in cold flesh in winter nights, is poverty,
Sitting with umbrella on wetting bed in showering night, is poverty,
Thoughtful mother, two mouthful of rice and three children, is poverty,
An ill, deserted mother selling her child wishing it will survive, is poverty.
A defeated and desponded mother poisoning and killing her child is poverty,
.
.
posted on 31-07-2008
Copyright ©®2008, Palas Kumar Ray. All rights reserved.
poem by Palas kumar Ray
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April, March! Soldiers Search for HUNGER MARCH - A1 Story
World has advanced in many days...
Yet in 21st Century poverty retains in umpteen ways;
Hunger glinted in his eyes...
He does begging and petty thievery, at the same time!
Cheeks were sunken and clothes were in rags but still, a crime!
Believe I swear in the name of god, my words are not lies.
April, March! Soldiers search for Hunger march at poverty's home.
I saw a rag picker scrounging for a coin in the garbage,
Though he is with bare foot who knows as bub, he is cute!
Owing to the troubles he met, made him mute.
He can fill the rivers with poverty's tears...
His eyes were pale and mouth opened for food cabbage!
One among is he, pleading and begging the passersby yet nobody hears.
April, March! Soldiers search for Hunger march at poverty's home.
The street is lighted with half naked
Bodies go begging down, the street and half fed,
From head to toe they're covered with poverty, yet
With pain and misery as their make-up set;
Hunger is present in their stomach and a rat's race!
And it is vaguely seen on their face and a food race.
April, March! Soldiers search for Hunger march at poverty's home.
Labourers in construction breaking the stones...
And lifting the bricks while scorching sun is the witness!
They work bodily, resembles awkward dance of a heap of bones,
The skin saturates and swallows the heat, I bet!
Leaving it dark as the midnight sky, oh! What a mess!
Their hopes are dashed; life is smashed of body’s sweat!
The Mother weeps and father yells!
Sitting in the house of poverty and what-else!
Small sister sleeps and her little brother dies and I linger;
His father only stares as he is killed by hunger...
Why doctors only cure diseases and why not
Poverty - the biggest disease of all. Is it not?
April, March! Soldiers search for Hunger march at poverty's home.
Every now and then in newspapers, I hear
The death of a peasant or two, oh my dear!
Unable to feed family, life has become Herculean task,
Drowned himself in melancholy, under hunger mask!
Bogged down under wheels of Pressure, not to hide...
Due to debts of treasure, he committed suicide!
April, March! Soldiers search for Hunger march at poverty's home.
Lot of hunger and empty bowl without food is poverty,
Not having one more dress to take bath is poverty,
............................................. ..............................................
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>READ PART 2>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
*A big NOTICE BOARD: Oops! Sorry the poem is NOT completed. This is just break time! Now read to make your reading wholesome read PART - 2
April, March! Soldiers Search for HUNGER MARCH - A2 Story
poem by Harindhar Reddy
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Sleep song.....loo-li loo-li lai laee......
Lay down your soul
here, I sing you a lullaby
the days we lived through
will be sure a mystery
will sing you to sleep
will sing you tomorrow
till the day I hold my breathe
my song will guide you, to the world that you go....
May you sleep well
with no more pains from now
with flowers and scents
let me make you divine and new
for you, there waits a new world
filled always with fortune
may you be loved
by all those you meet....
Will always wait for you in dreams
for asking whats new
to share the fun you had in your day
here take my love and tears
which is freezed like a crystal for you
it will guide you under darkness, while you walk your way....
I know your standing with tears
don't weep Iam always your's
soon you will find me there
in the world, where you going to live
As my punishment for life
will be reciting your favourite tales
now fall off to sleep
my dear little child......
Inspiration - Sleep song tone
Dedicated to all kids who lost their life in miserable ways.....accidents, illness, poverty and so on....guess, this will be one of their sleep song from their mother.....love sebastine
poem by Sebastine Humaemo
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Only Love Would Know
Does the light of passion still burn bright
Only love would know, my imagination
Tells me Im a pent-up fool
In the deep end of the pool
Is the light of passion burnin bright
Only love would know, only love would know
She lives on the other side, you wanna know the reason why
She arrives at promises and you believe in what she says
Everywhere you go
Is the light of passion burnin bright
Everywhere you go, only love would know
You think youve been wronged again
Oh what a way to treat a friend
She belongs to other eyes and surely you must realize
She aint the kind who would soon step aside
Pay any dues at the expense of her pride
Everywhere she goes, only love would know
In the days gone by I came to believe
Everything is trust, all the rest is dust
Mother nature, mother dear, listen to us over here
Are the sounds of laughter ringing true
Only love would know, only love would do
She lives on another plane away from the drivin rain
She says no, you say yes, and thats how it should be I guess
Only love would know
May the light of love surround you tonight
Everywhere you go, only love would know
You think you were wrong until
You learned once and for all its still
Once more lesson on the way
Or that is what it seemed to say
Shes not the kind who would soon step down
Not the kind you would try to walk around
When only a thought would go very well
You can tell by the touch
Ah but only love would know
Passion burnin bright
Tears of passion late at night
Is the light of passion burning bright
Everywhereyou go, only love would know
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The problematic child
Necessity is the mother of invention,
People say. Then we can say like that:
Wealth is the mother of comforts,
And poverty, of meanness.
Wealth is the mother of indolence too.
So is poverty, of viciousness.
Wealth and poverty near by
Deliver discontent,
Which is a problematic child.
04.01.2009
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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