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Social Funeral Poems | Social Poems About Funeral

These Social Funeral poems are examples of Social poems about Funeral. These are the best examples of Social Funeral poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Rhyme | |

blood transfusion



Details | Ballade | |

Imagine

Imagine lakes of dreams 
Blood contained streams
Imagine oceans that behold undiscovered beings
Imagine human life depended off of cheers and games
Man design’s umbrellas
And eventually would play a part in acid rain
Imagine not wanting to smell another rose 
Or touch another soul 
Because of despair and shame
Imagine in the mist of your demise
You have the passion to rejoice and sing
Imagine driving pass shattered glass
The interior  is soaked with blood stains
Your mind can't comprehend the fact 
that it's a dead family in the next lane
Imagine dreaming for freedom
As a result by your neck you hang
Imagine for the sake of progress 
You whip a man on his back and call him a slave.
Rage, Pain, Fortune, and fame
You don't have to imagine this 
Because that's what life brings.


Details | I do not know? | |

Solomon Mahlangu: My Blood will Nourish the Tree that will Bear the Fruits of Freedom

(special thanks to a friend who shared this tribute to Solomon Mahlangu)



Solomon Mahlangu: My Blood will Nourish the Tree that will Bear the Fruits of Freedom:



Solomon Mahlangu was trained as an MK soldier with a view to later rejoining the struggle in the country.


He left South Africa after the Soweto Uprising of 1976 when he was 19 years old, and was later chosen to be part of an elite force to return to South Africa to carry out a mission commemorating the June 16th 1976 Soweto student uprising.


After entering South Africa through Swaziland and meeting his fellow comrades in Duduza, on the East Rand (east of Johannesburg), they were accosted by the police in Goch Street in Johannesburg.


In the ensuing gun battle two civilians were killed and two were injured, and Mahlangu and Motloung were captured while acting as decoys so that the other comrade could go and report to the MK leadership.


Motloung was brutally assaulted by the police to a point that he suffered brain damage and was unfit to stand trial, resulting in Mahlangu facing trial alone.


He was charged with two counts of murder and several charges under the Terrorism Act, to which he pleaded not guilty.


Though the judge accepted that Motloung was responsible for the killings, common purpose was argued and Mahlangu was found guilty on two counts of murder and other charges under the Terrorism Act.


On 15 June 1978 Solomon Mahlangu was refused leave to appeal his sentence by the Rand Supreme Court, and on 24 July 1978 he was refused again in the Bloemfontein Appeal Court.


Although various governments, the United Nations, International Organizations, groups and prominent individuals attempted to intercede on his behalf, Mahlangu awaited his execution in Pretoria Central Prison, and was hanged on 6 April 1979.


His hanging provoked international protest and condemnation of South Africa and Apartheid.


In fear of crowd reaction at the funeral the police decided to bury Mahlangu in Atteridgeville in Pretoria.


On 6 April 1993 he was re-interred at the Mamelodi Cemetery, where a plaque states his last words:


‘My blood will nourish the tree that will bear the fruits of freedom.

Tell my people that I love them.

They must continue the fight.’



Mahlangu died for a cause!



Salute!



The Struggle Continues…




(special thanks to a friend who shared this tribute to Solomon Mahlangu)


Details | Verse | |

Ding Dong The Wicked Witch is Dead

Globally, miners jubilantly jump for joy
Smiles on the faces of every girl and boy
The grins of a newly opened Xmas toy
Thatcher’s dead.

Trade unionists bounce along the street
Music blaring and the tapping of feet
From nurses to Bobbies still on the beat
Thatcher’s dead.

Street parties announced in the nation
Satan who brought economic inflation
Is deceased, now’s the time for elation
Thatcher’s dead.

Its times like this I’m sad I’m an atheist
And can only shout and wave my fist
And then go to the pub and get pissed
Thatcher’s dead.


Details | Rhyme | |

This Memorial Day We Salute Our Veterans

We salute every soldier who’s
 served this great nation.
And offer a heart of thanks
 and appreciation!

We salute each member 
of our armed forces.
And are thankful for their
 efforts and resources!

We salute the many who 
protect our borders too.
We’d be in trouble…  
If not for people like YOU!

We salute every son and 
daughter lost in a war.
YOU are what serving this
 country is meant for!

We salute the officers who’ve 
guided our women and men.
Our prayers are with you!  
And our love from within!

We salute our veterans!  
Wherever they may be!
Those who served on
 land, air and sea!

Offering prayer to the
 Lord is our belief…
That he will guide our
 Commander-in-Chief!

As we observe 
Memorial Day this year…
Let’s offer our soldiers
 love, hope and cheer…

May God bless them in
 all they endeavor
And his peace be with them
 today and forever!!

By Jim Pemberton  
05/21/10


Details | Rhyme | |

The Day My Uncle Died



The Day My Uncle Died...

I was thinking about the smile on my uncle’s face….
This was a before he would “leave this place."

I'll never forget the words shortly before he died.
The more I thought about it, the more I cried.

He said, "you know Jimmy I wish I got to know you better."
I never received another phone
 call or even a letter.

A few days later he was ready to go to a funeral.
But it was also him who received a burial.

I was shocked and amazed as to what happened.
The events took place. There was no way
 I could "stop them."

Memories I had were from many years ago.
I often think about him.    And I do miss him so!

I suppose many don't take the time to realize...
How quickly life passes... 
Then someone dies.

Perhaps there's someone in your
 life you can think of…
There's been a situation that you're
embarrassed to "speak of/"

A harsh word said, and angry thought was spoken.
And soon your relationship has been "broken."

This may be a good time with this person to spend.
Irregardless if they're what you'd call a "friend."

Everyone is important to God who reigns above.
We need to be filled with his mercy and love.

The person you haven't seen shall one day disappear...
The days are short...  Our journey's end is so near!

May God speak to our heart and help us to see...
Where will you and I be spending our eternity???

By Jim Pemberton


Details | I do not know? | |

The Women



The Women



(for the countless women, names unknown, who bore the brunt of Apartheid, and who fought the racist system at great cost to themselves and their families, and for my mother, Zubeida Moolla)



Pregnant, your husband on the run,
your daughter, a child, a few years old,

they hauled you in, these brutish men,
into the bowels of Apartheid's racist hell.



They wanted information, you gave them nothing,
these savage men, who skin happened to be lighter,

and white was right in South Africa back then,

but, you did not cower, you stood resolute,

you, my mother, faced them down, their power,
their 'racial superiority', their taunts, their threats.



You, my mother, would not, could not break,

You stood firm, you stood tall.

You, like the countless mothers did not break, did not fall.



You told me many things, of the pains, the struggles,

the scraping for scraps, the desolation of separation
from your beloved Tasneem and your beloved Azad,

my elder sister and brother, whom I could not grow
up with, your beloved children separated by time, by place,

by monstrous Apartheid, by brutish men,
whose skin just happened to be lighter.



You told me many things, as I grew older,
of the years in exile, of the winters that grew ever colder.

You were a fighter, for a just cause,
like countless other South African women,

you sacrificed much, you suffered the pangs,
of memories that cut into your bone, your marrow,

you resisted a system, an ideology, brutal and callous and narrow.



Yes, you lived to see freedom arrive, yet you suffered still,
a family torn apart, and struggling to rebuild a life,

all the while, nursing a void, that nothing could ever fill.



I salute you, mother, as I salute the nameless mothers,

the countless sisters, daughters, women of this land,
who fought, sacrificing it all for taking a moral stand.



I salute you, my mother, and though you have passed,
your body interred in your beloved South African soil,

you shall remain, within me, an ever-present reminder,

of the cost of freedom, the struggles, the hunger, the toil.


I salute you!



(for the brave women of South Africa, of all colours,
who fought against racial discrimination and Apartheid)






Details | Rhyme | |

Those Who've Gone On Before Me

Many Have Gone On Before Me…

As I grow old, many I know have gone on before me.
Some I didn’t know.   And some knew me.

In our lives, there’s one thing that’s very certain.
We don’t know when we’ll meet life’s “final curtain.”

No matter how we try to look, or seek a “younger appeal.”
One day, old age comes, and the end of life seems real!

Our lives down here, could end tomorrow!
No matter how many years we may try to “borrow.”

God knows when the end of our lives will be!
The question is: Where will you spend your eternity?

You may seek all of this world’s wealth and fame.
But when death comes calling… 
 It knows your name!

You can go through life, and keep “pretending.”
But God knows when your life will be ending!

He’s prepared for you, a place in his eternal city.
There’ll be no more sorrow, pain or pity!

All of the angels in heaven await your choice!
Each person coming to heaven,,,  They all rejoice!

Jesus loves you!  This is great news!
His gift of salvation...  Please don’t refuse!

Think about those who’ve gone on before you!
And the wonderful God that always knew you!

Every breath you breathe… Each step that’s taken…
Jesus is your only hope and secure foundation!

By Jim Pemberton


Details | Elegy | |

My Kashmir Burns (Part 1)

I picture Kashmir through lightened KL. News of another massacre darkens my eyes
Winds are thirsty there. They continue to taste the young blood.
I groom myself with exquisite things,
Sipping ice tea in ac room, I comfort myself
And Kashmir burns. Kashmir set ablaze

I can smell the warm blood of beaten corpse
Where from winds bought this smell. Somewhere Karbala reborn.
Mosques are being slammed
There windows stoned. And the black boots leave their footprints on Mimber
Even God judges on evidence
There is one Imaam left now; he hides her daughters in his shadow
A blunt knife in his hands; soon he will sacrifice them to keep their innocence
Kashmir is burning. Kashmir is bleeding
And I write.

Army jeep chases the tracks. To find the associated bodies
They are alive now. Soon they will be dead
From Patan to Sopor, And in narrow passages of nostalgic downtown
Ghosts of curfew
Haunt the houses for young souls.

From the Kupwara cantonments, search lights chase emptiness
Nothing is left now. Search lights can’t see inside the graves
A boy there went missing for two days. His father starts digging his grave.
I put my earphones on and I close my eyes. I sleep
While my Kashmir is ablaze
“It’s me poor farmer’s son. Kupwara’s charm, I feel no pain”.
I see him so alive in my dreams.
He chants songs of Mahjoor from his burnt lips. My hands shiver. He has no finger nails.
I see his smoke tanned skin. Same as that of Khayam’s barbeques
He stands at a distance from me. I can still smell kerosene
“Tell my mother to let her heart become cold. Her heart will not bear my state.
Tell my mother to let her eyes become blind. Her eyes will not withstand my sight.”
I follow him towards his tortured body. He tells me to follow the spilled blood.
His blood has made its own Jhelum. I row on it. Until it gets lost in black boots
The story will turn into legend. I find his body no more.

On the streets silence prevails. Nobody has permission to wail.
Sisters are beatifying coffins while brothers look for stones.
For bullets there will be stones
Kashmir is ablaze. She is wailing in grotesque tones.
In Lal Ded hospital a new born cries: Father register me at cantonment then take me out
Death is recruiting in dozens at a time.
Tomorrow is curfew. Death has no curfew pass.
How they want to identity you. Becomes your identity
People burn up all you identity cards.


Details | Haiku | |

LOVE - HAIKU

Love is as love does Peace begets peace; happy day Unconditional


Details | ABC | |

Respect The Roots

I’m thankful for slaves who never could understand, “Why do I work for people and get less than the bare minimum wage?”
Why do I go through the pain and suffering if there’s no gain for my family or me? My greats never were a boss and rarely knew who their family was so why live this life if it wasn’t free to be?
My roots nurtured the seeds who helped create opportunities; if we as the people could see how they lived maybe we would be stronger minded people rather than living like we have no sense
We are a culture that is talented in so many ways but we want to be the target of a negative headline news story. 
We already seen shackles on our feet, slavery, segregation, and racism against our peace, so why do we still act as if we can’t change the way people perceive us to be
We are not going to blame it on our past because they gave us freedom to see so why can’t we exploit this and live the true meaning of the land of the free
Disregard the negative news and set yourself apart change the way you act so others can see a fresh start
If we started from the bottom now where here isn’t that living proof we can do anything besides spend money on material things but invest in the future or non-profits to help others to build something and have a heart
We can’t just stay a struggle we have to be humble take over the government and make change not think we high class and go to jail for spending money or getting caught up for the wrong things
 Set a strong example for these homeless, gangs, prostitutes, and dealers because they are suffering and have only 2 choices that put us on the news headline story in jail or death coming soon
 As we lift up those who make a change on the streets or on Capitol Hill we are happy these people are creating an Underground Railroad to victory without suffering and hopefully this stand is coming to all my people to
 We got to take charge in numbers instead of sit back all for nothing
 If you better yourself from how others use to see you maybe you can see the roots that can help make the change for you as others grow in this thing called a root lifting cycle. Respect the roots.


Details | Enclosed Rhyme | |

They said her time had come- Death by insurance

They said her time had come
No place to run
No place to hide
No time for fun
Just an empty vessel inside
Going through the motions
Numb.
Overwhelming emotions
They said her time had come

They said her time had come
Evil coats
She wants to run
She desires to have fun
Not understanding why she can not play
It is now the month of May
Another denial letter
Another denial to get better
They said her time had come

They said her time had come
Why such looks of sorrow?
She doesn’t understand
For there is always tomorrow
Evil coats
She takes a breath
Smelling all of the flowers
No place to hide
Now literally an empty vessel inside
They said her time had come

Her time had come
Her bald head 
Just four years old
She looks to comfort from her mom and dad
Why do they look so sad?
Evil coats drag them away 
She never got that chance to go out and play
Beep. Beep. Beeep.. Bleeeeep….. 
The room floods with long white coats
Now to heaven this little girl floats
Her time had come

They said her time had come
She was just a name
No money, undeserving of fame
Easy for her to be denied
If only the suits had looked her in the eyes
Who is to blame? 
Sent to the free clinic
Now dead at four
No insurance
Ooops! What a shame…
She could have been saved
Now two parents at her grave
Once a happy family, now destroyed
Because THEY said her time had come


Details | Haiku | |

DEATH WISH HAIKU A Musical History of Cigarettes

 DEATH WISH HAIKU (AS Musical History of Cigarettes)
L.S.M.F.T.
Snooky Lanson sang it clear
smoke in every ear.

From your Hit Parade,
Frank Sinatra blew the words one time
Didn't Fence Him In.

Dorothy Collin's voice
America there's only one to smoke
Lucky Strike's the one.

Drifting up her nose
pulling smoke into her lung
biting on her tongue

what is she doing?
coffins closing in with nails
death as slow as snails.

Do you want a Lucky?
More satisfaction pleasure
undertakers measure.

Camel smoke was nil
More Doctors smoked  Lucky Strikes
Than Mike Hammer smoked.

Nicotine all day
tie hers up in Christmas bows
blow it out her nose.

Free on Navy ships
Sailors never saw the light
Though the match was free.


Details | Haiku | |

Haiku Cigarettes

Cigarettes are gross. They can really kill you too Dead. Gone. Forever


Details | I do not know? | |

Revolt

Revolt in a see of blood oh mourner and cast your voice away, the regime will shoot at you
today and corpses will roll.  Protest in constant pain oh mourner and toss your body to
the wolves, the regime will fire missiles and the masses will explode.  The fires will
spread like cancer and the regime will turn it's heels, fore the masses fight for freedom
and their mothers, fathers, brothers and sisters will be killed.  Revolt against the
murderers and let true justice be your shield.


- How dare there exist a being who would drop bombs on innocent protesters and send armed
forces to shoot down mourners at a funeral.  

 Where is the human spirit hiding in these darkened times? The true spirit of what it
means to be alive.


Details | I do not know? | |

For They Are Many And Legion Is There Name

standing at the edge of no more time
I see the bottom of the grave 

it looks, of mud and cold without no rest in place 
malted ice flakes dancing in snow-ish rain  

i will not move 
no i can not move 
fear has taken over me

how cold 
how sad 
i do not know how to fight
this demon, who is not a demon 
but the DEVIL him self
he has a head 
with eyes and ears 
who do not get caught
for They Are Many 
and i am only one 

trust no one....
is not just a saying 
but a truth to live by 
for they know the price of blood 
and will sell out all who get in their way 

"My name is Legion, for we are many"
"Nomen mihi Legio est, quia multi sumus"(In Latin)


Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) | |

Is It A Dream World

A funny little clown, a bright red nose.
Lots of make-up, and bright blue bows.

Children laughing, some fat and some thin.
Either dressed in new clothes or rags that are faded and dim.

Pretty white ponies with beautiful glittery saddles.
And again, those funny clowns are hitting eachother with paddles.

One clown keeps fallimg and pretending to cry.
The other is daydreaming and lets out a big sigh.

There are beautiful ladies whose costumes are rare.
And a man who scares the children by dressing up as a bear.

Fantasizing is a convienient thing, it keeps the shock low.
So the surprise about the real world won't be such a big blow.

"Surprised about what"? is what you ask next.
Its something you can't learn in a text.

You'll learn about life by the things you go through.
You'll learn about whats fake and about what is true.

You'll see that the clowns are still funny and have a red nose.
But then you'll see realize only money buys the ladies rare clothes.

That's also when you realize your clothes are faded and dim.
And you recognize how many times you've been beaten by him.

Yes, those clowns with paddles are at it again.
Funny. They are married and they're children number ten.

Thier children are scared and crying in bed.
Because thier big mean daddy made thier sweet mommy dead.


Details | Rhyme | |

My First Cig Puff

Holding that slender stick in between two fingers
Stance of an emperor of a classy empire
The curvy wavy smoke in air lingers
One cig in hand smartens your attire

I remember my first cig puff,
How I held its butt between my lips
An air of curiosity traveled down my core
As a friend lighted for me its tip

The lit cigarette brightened my ecstasy
And with pride I took my first puff 
Smoke dint seem finding space inside
And I burst out, it made me cough

That challenged me to attempt once again
This time I felt my smoke-filled chest
I was gagged, hooked for a moment
It was kind of a head rush… at its best!

That whiff of smoke changed everything
Nothing seemed at its best without one puff
Did it taste that good? Hell No!
Then why doesn't puff after puff seem enough?

Soon my hands, mouth, clothes smelled the same
Seasons didn't matter, time did no harm
Every time I rushed to a clandestine zone
The moment I received ‘quench the flame’ alarm!

I am not bad, don’t hate me
It’s a compelling force, I can’t shun away
This addiction should only not invite my grave
Be my honest well-wisher, for me pray!


Details | Rhyme | |

HE Is The Sollution To Every Problem Worry And Heartache


In the midst of this world’s chaos and confusion… There is an answer! There is a solution! Many people have tried all different kinds of things. Not realizing the consequences this often brings… I’m going to say something. This I shall confess… Without God in our lives. Everything is one big mess! Have you thought about what history does unfold? The many wars, famines, and deaths untold? One just can read the book of Revelation. This world’s going to go through a great tribulation! Our hope isn’t in world government. Or chasing a “U.F.O…” It’s only in Jesus... The redeemer of our soul! If heaven is a place would you’d like to be… Think about where you’d like to spend your eternity… With Christ in your life… You can’t go wrong. In his sheltering arms… Is where you belong! Jesus… Who created this earth and everything within… Can wash you clean…. And take away your sin! All of creation cries out and proclaims… The beauty and majesty of his awesome name! He is the solution to the way you’re livin.’! Why not accept him today… And be FORGIVEN! By Jim Pemberton 02/17/11


Details | I do not know? | |

For Anene Booysen 1996 - 2013

Hamba Kahle Anene Booysen! (1996 – 2013)


Dead at 17, brutally raped and left to die,
in the dirt,

 

at a construction site in Bredasdorp.

 

‘horrific’, ‘repulsed’,
‘brutally raped’, ‘shocked’,

 

do these words mean anything,
to anyone,

anymore.

 

Not to Anene Booysen,

 

murdered at 17, brutally raped and left to die,

in the dirt,

 

at a construction site in Bredasdorp.

 

Anene was raped,
savagely mutilated,

 

Her 17 year old body tossed aside,

 

by the hands of men.

 

Men, always men,

 

cowardly, beastly, perverted, twisted men.

 

‘Beastly’, ‘perverted’, ‘twisted’,

 

do these words mean anything,
to anyone,

anymore.

 

Not to Anene Booysen,

 

who now lies cold and dead.

 

How many Anene Booysens will it take,

 

for us,
society,
families,
people,

 

human-beings,

 

and,

 

men, especially men,

 

to excise the ghastly menace,

 

of the heinous capacity that resides,

 

within men,

 

always men,

 

to brutalise, rape, mutilate, and murder.

 

‘Brutalise’, ‘murder’, ‘rape’,

 

do these words mean anything,
to anyone,

anymore.

 

Not to Anene Booysen,

 

murdered at 17, brutally raped and left,

 

to die,

 

in the dirt,

 

at a construction site,

 

in Bredasdorp.

 

 

Anene Booysen
(1996 – 2013)

 

* – Hamba Kahle – “Farewell, Travel Well” in Zulu

 

** – Bredasdorp is a small town near Cape Town, South Africa


Details | Free verse | |

The Bullet, It Flashed Before My Eyes

The bullet,
it flashed before my eyes and I knew I hadn't long.
But mom and dad, don't be sad for I went as was singing a song.

The bullet,
it flashed before my eyes, and I then saw my life.
I know twas short, but no regrets for I knew your smile and needn't much more.

The bullet,
it flashed before my eyes, and I think I glimpsed the light.
But now that it's dark, I'm looking back to see if your alright.

---------------------------------------------------------

In honor of Trayvon Martin. Will the hatred ever stop?


Details | Free verse | |

Goodbye

Comforting words
Smooth, quiet tones
Reassurance 
complete confidence 

Long nights spent reasoning
In total understanding
Twin thoughts 
twin minds
twin miseries
and twin fates

Now it’s so quiet
Too quiet
Complete and utter silence....
Oh my God, 
What happened to the good old days
When we both made sense?!

Lost in blurry dreams of childhood
Colorful, wonderful, windy days
Subconscious cradled memories 
of the times when we 
were eachother’s only friends

Only you, 
	the sky
		the earth
			and me...


				No betrayal

			No lies
		No fire

	No hate

No regrets.

I think I can understand 
why you won’t face me
But your sudden silence
is so confusing

Did you ever know me well enough
to know my affection for ultimate honesty?
If you wanted me to go away
why didn’t you just say something? 

Only this emptiness is left
Inconsolable grief...
For what never again can be 

No warning
No parting words
No ceremony

You went and had the funeral 
for our friendship
but did not invite me

From the start
I thought these ways would always be
But in the end,
All I wanted, my friend 
was to say 
goodbye.

I can’t trust anyone
anymore
anyway

All alone again
shame on me


Details | I do not know? | |

They Left so Abruptly

They Left so Abruptly

(for the countless South Africans, of all colours, who dedicated their lives for freedom and democracy)

the valiant ones
countless
many known
many more nameless

the truest sons and singers
husbands and poets
lovers and wives
daughters and farmers
workers and sisters
brothers and friends

they left so abruptly
with quiet pride
steely courage
gentle dignity

they left so abruptly
leaving us our tomorrows
brighter
hopeful
filled with promise

they left so abruptly
so that we may breathe
the breath of liberty
the air of freedom
the warmth of justice

they left so abruptly
leaving with us their parting gift

freedom
inkululeko
swatantrata
liberte
azadi
vhudilangi
libertad

they left so abruptly
yet we remember them all
today
in the days that slipped away
and in the many more that we await

they left so abruptly
yet they remain
hewed into our memories
etched in our consciences
engraved in our hearts
they left so abruptly
and yet they endure
with us
within us
now and forever more


Details | Haiku | |

this lifeless tot -- Florida

an innocent child,
a nineteen-month-old baby,
was senselessly shot;

cold drive-by shooter
killed a cherished little boy--
with a heartless plot

endless tears of pain--
as we remember the love
of this lifeless tot


*baby was not the intended target


Details | Lyric | |

Suffering Is The Same As Living

Hope, tonight, is just a void Love is destroyed Reality impending my doom Suffering a dream that was never made for me I’m just the burden falling under your arms I understand if you give up on me Don’t worry I’ll be fine I can just wait, wait as in all eternity You deserve to be happy and free I’m just the burden falling under your arms I understand if you give up on me Suffering is the same as living Tonight I might, Today I may Set you free away from me I’m just the burden falling under your arms I understand if you give up on me You travel all across in my veins Showing you share my pain But my life was never meant for me I’m just the burden falling under your arms I understand if you give up on me I'm sorry for those days I've ruined your life Best you just ignore, forevermore I’m just the burden falling under your arms I understand if you give up on me Suffering is the same as living Tonight I might, Today I may Set you free away from me I’m just the burden falling under your arms I understand if you give up on me Suffering is the same as living Tonight I might, Today I may Set you free away from me I’m just the burden falling under your arms I understand if you give up on me
**Morten Veland, Guitarist, Male Vocalist and Main Songwriter of Sirenia, formerly of Tristania**


Details | Free verse | |

Sanguinary Lord

A severe façade of loving tolerance Dipped in an argentine semblance The Consuls of The Cross Weaving a sweven of Welkin Where the checkered ones Are never allowed Their souls cast into the flames Of a greater decay The never ending pit Of eternal torment You turn the other cheek The one that wields the clandestine dagger The dreams of being free grow lighter and light The truth is shrouded by sister-Night Clinging onto existence Never eluding the resistance I will never adhere To your Sanguinary Lord Bestowing The Crusader’s reign Against the sand and the desert’s wane Barraging him over the frame In desperation to appease Screaming and shouting I will wash away your sins Decadence of the ones to throw the stones The ones to enforce the book Has left your lies dry and ready to die No more tears are left to cry No more screams are left to scream No More blood to be split No more graves to be dug


Details | Free verse | |

I'LL SMILE 4 U

Stroll through the Illest Empire
So much heat feeling like we’re living in the fire
But we’re living under fire
Tell me how many shots must it take before my loved ones are crying at my own wake
Its time for a break from sad eyes I’ve seen grown men cry
It hurts to tell a loved one good-bye
It’s the same reason why they died
Hearts just too full of pride
Mothers praying their young’n wont be a victim of a homicide
Too many drive-bys blood shed for a block you really can’t call mine
Wishing we could turn back time
High off of nickels’ and dimes
Making moves to boost your grind looking for hope
But the hustle got us in a head choke
Don’t blame me for acting crazy cause this how the streets made me and you
To watch our back and throw bows and cuss
Cause you got to be tough when times are rough
I know your asking when will enough be enough
And truth is I don’t know but this is how it goes down
But if I make it out will you smile for me now

So many families struggling with poverty
I don’t judge cause that use to be me
Watching mom come home late
Barley any food on our plate
So young and life we already hate
Praying God bring us something great
My clothes were cheap imitates and kids called you on them for being fake
Knowing mom bust her ass to provide
But all your knock offs you begin to hide
Ashamed of what you own
I know how you feel I been there too
I see mothers walking there kids to school
And the walk is far when you cant afford a car
Mom hoping one day you’ll be a star
I know about being next to poor
Your local neighborhood liquor market is your grocery store
Wishing you didn’t have to go through that living off of food stamps
Cube the neighborhood is a trap but we’ll all be free
So smile for you and me

Even 2pac said smile for me
This isn’t how its always going to be unless you let it be
In our different way we’re all a G
Cause we’re trying to make it straight legit
Whatever your hustle never quit but don’t lose yourself in it
Cause you still got a long ways to go
Still got a long time to grow
Use what you know to get by or you wont survive
Remember to always keep your dreams alive
Whatever it is just do it and never try
The limit is the sky so keep your heads held high
And when you come to a hard road just always know nothing can keep you down
You’ll be able to come back around
So give yourself a chance
And I’ll smile for you now

JUNE ‘06
B.K.M.jr


Details | Imagism | |

Omlet - or - The Taming of the Screwball

         "OMLET"
            or
      "The Taming Of A Screwball"
      cast of characters:
      Julius Caesar
      A Roman Teenaged Kid
      A Roman Guard
      Brutus
      A bunch of Caesars Girlfriends
      A bunch of Roman Senators
   
   Julius picked up the violin and looked at the
kid. ""Et playdimus youdimus?"" he asked.
   "Nonimus!" replied the kid. "Cousinimus Nero
playsimus."
   "Ahhhh," sighed Julius. "Prodigimus bratimus."
   Suddenly a guard ran in, waving his sword and
shouting, "Mightymus Ceasermus! Brutumus et comingus!"
   Just then Brutus comes in, followed by a bunch
of drunk senators. All of Caesars girl friends
run offstage screaming in terror.
   "Ahhhh--Friendimus Brutumus..."" Julius said,
putting his arm around Brutus' shoulder.
   Brutus took out a dagger and promptly
thrusted it up Caesars bellybutton.
   "Ahhhhhhh--Brutumus!"" Caesar repeated.
"Youdimus screwdimus meedimus."
                     curtain
                      (applause)
© Ron Wilson


Details | Rhyme | |

Have You Thought About How Short Life Really Is


Have You Thought About How Short Life Is? Have you thought about how short life really is? No one knows for sure how long they will live… Have you thought about the God who designed you? His wonderful creation daily surrounds you! Have you thought about how you'll spend your time? As each day, many thoughts go through your mind. Have you thought about the life you’ve been given? We’ve all sinned, but can totally be forgiven! Have you thought about the wisdom of God’s word? The truth of scripture needs to be heard! Have you thought about kneeling to God in prayer? He patiently waits… And is always there! God thought about you a long time ago… Through Christ’ death, he purchased your soul! God thought about you that day with Jesus’ death… Even beyond when Christ took his last breath! He thinks about you each day that passes by! He has a mansion prepared for you beyond the sky! Won’t you give to him your heart’s attention? He can turn your life into a Godly direction! The life that you have is here for a brief moment… Please accept God’s love and his precious atonement! By Jim Pemberton


Details | I do not know? | |

Mido Macia 1986 - 2013


Mido Macia 1986 - 2013


Mido Macia was a 27 year old Mozambican man, working in Daveyton near Johannesburg as a taxi-driver, who was found dead in a police cell, after police savagely dragged Mr. Macia whom they had tied to their police van.

The brutal incident of Mr. Macia being dragged was caught on camera and has shocked South Africa.

The 8 police officers involved are facing charges of murder, and have been suspended from the South African Police Service (SAPS).

This poem is an angry poem that I felt had to be written, because as a society, we need to ask ourselves and each other the hardest questions about xenophobia and intolerance and violence.





Mido Macia 1986 - 2013


Death came to Mido Macia,
a savage, brutal, hellish death came to Mido Macia.


Death came to Mido Macia,
death dressed-up in the colours of authority,
as callous, vile, sadistic policemen murdered Mido Macia.


The video-footage is blood-curdling,
Mido Macia being dragged,
his hands tied behind him,
to a police van.


But death came later to Mido Macia,
death cheered, clapped, and tore into Mido Macia.


Death came to Mido Macia,
in the cells where they murdered Mido Macia.



Death came to Mido Macia,
a fuelled, cheered-on, instigated death came to Mido Macia.


We are all culpable,
every one of us is culpable,


from racist 'jokes' emailed and texted,
to self-righteous comments about the 'foreigners',


from casual dinner-table conversations,

'they take our jobs',
'they are crooks' 
the 'they marry our women' kind of lunch-time chats,


racist, xenophobic, hate-filled talk,


to beating a human-being to death in a police cell,


or on the streets of Cape Town, Johannesburg ,

and in Daveyton,

where death came to Mido Macia.



Mido Macia 1986 - 2013




Details | I do not know? | |

Remembering Him

I can’t pay attention,
They have deprived me of my perception.
My nose hurts, my eyes are sore and my frown is painful.
In a room of people who never knew him.
So sadly only I’ve seen him in eighth grade.
I was the M.C. at his graduation.
He ran up to the mic. He thanked for the award.
“Thank you”, he said.
Everyday in my mixed grade class,
He would sometimes make everyone laugh.
I wasn’t close to him, but knew enough
From seeing him and his crew everyday.


Details | Lyric | |

Arno Vale

Arno Vale
Bristol’s Necropolis
City of the Dead
Where the dead and living
In the daytime co-exist.

The path leads full circle
Around the tomb stones, chapels and trees
Tombstone white and bright in the sun
The trees decorated, woollen colours

Booted families trudge through the trees
Others visit the café and the gift shop
All this life in the garden of the dead
It seems almost pagan, in a Christian way
Reminding us of their marriage

The winter sun shines without warmth
Through the trees, the leaves still on the ground
Solitude without loneliness that is what is here
The dead not buried and forgotten;
But, with nature and the living instead.


Details | Senryu | |

then creditors came

she worshipped money
clinched it 'til the day she died;
then creditors came


Details | Prose Poetry | |

My Brother

You left my brother
Came back a man
Should hear our proud father
Speak of you
How you’ve done him
And momma proud
Sister Jane and Katherine
Down the block
Never seem to have anything
But you to talk about
Oh if you only knew the loving
All the girls around here
Say you’ve missed
It’s a good bet
You’d never have left
But leave you did
Nothing can change that now
In a way it’s good to know
Exactly where you are
We need never again worry
If that old truck of yours broke down
Leaving you to walk home in the rain
It’s a good thing really
Now we can all get some sleep
Granted, not as much as you
But we will in our due time
Just want you to know
These tags of yours
Will never leave my neck
You, will never leave my heart
For no matter why you left
Or how you came back
You still are
And will always be
My brother


Details | Rhyme | |

This Memorial Day

We salute every soldier who’s
 served this great nation.
And offer a heart of thanks
 and appreciation!

We salute each member 
of our armed forces.
And are thankful for their
 efforts and resources!

We salute the many who 
protect our borders too.
We’d be in trouble…  
If not for people like YOU!

We salute every son and 
daughter lost in a war.
YOU are what serving this
 country is meant for!

We salute the officers who’ve 
guided our women and men.
Our prayers are with you!  
And our love from within!

We salute our veterans!  
Wherever they may be!
Those who served on
 land, air and sea!

Offering prayer to the
 Lord is our belief…
That he will guide our
 Commander-in-Chief!

As we observe Memorial Day this year…
Let’s offer our soldiers
 love, hope and cheer…

May God bless them in
 all they endeavor
And his peace be with them
 today and forever!!

By Jim Pemberton  05/21/10


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Without The Box

So, there you are
Returned from fighting another mans war
Heard you’re quite the hero
Good for you my friend
Twenty years young
Couldn’t wait
To kick some terrorist ass
And so you did
So very well indeed I hear
Now you’re back
Nothing more to kick
What are you to do with yourself
Lying there as you are
Look at all of us here
To welcome you back
Can you not hear the joy
Can you not see the happiness
Or is it all hidden behind the tears
So here you are returned
In a flawless uniform
Lying there all smug and confident
With a peaceful look
Here you are returned
Fresh off the plane
In a nice tight package
Here you are returned
To never leave again
Good to have you back my friend
Only wish it could have been
Without the box


Details | I do not know? | |

A Matter Of Strength

If strength is only 
How well you hide the pain.
I must be truly strong spirited.

If thinking you want death
Is a matter of being gutsy enough,
Then those who're gone
Were even more strong

Rest in peace,
Yet what've they've done 
Shall forever haunt me...


Details | I do not know? | |

For the Freedom-Loving people of Syria

Massacre at Houla.

She was no more than 10 years of age.
He could have been a grandfather.

Young, old, women, girls, men, boys.

108 lives.

Now they are buried,
in hurriedly dug graves,
on the plains of Houla.

Killed by knives,
shot at point-blank range,
slaughtered, mowed-down.

108 lives.

Snuffed-out. Decimated. Taken-out.

108 lives.

As Damascus lies blatantly,
spewing forth untruth,
108 warm, dead bodies,
remain buried,
in hurriedly dug graves,
on the plains of Houla.

108 lives.


Details | Acrostic | |

Heavens Gate

Here above your world I am no longer sad.
Everyone I ever knew is here, and I am glad.
Angels guided me to this place of no more sad.
Visions of you, I have forever, this I must add.
Each day that passes I grow within your heart.
Never think that I am gone, for I’ll never part.
Stars of night are my eyes, secrets of our art.

Graciously I watch you, as you grow and learn.
Angels take me to visit you, so I will not yearn.
Take care of your family that you have so dear.
Eventually my little one you will have no fear.


Details | I do not know? | |

Hero's

You’re our hero
The poor and impoverished 
Captive starving millions
Cry
Tears of anguish
Tears of dread

The cost of their Hero’s burial
Is too their debt
Their sacrifice 
The living for their leader 

The hungry little ones 
Cry
The world watches on
In fear

My Hero gave it all
His life
A willing sacrifice 
His perfect life
His perfect love
His cost
Our hatred
That we might live

His excruciating death
Has not left us comfortless
And soon to be 
Our resurrection of renewal

We the loyal few weep for what we did
His life for ours
The rest rejoice because you died
The world now looks on 
In fear

©? Brenda V Northeast              29 Dec. 2011

 
 


Details | Ballad | |

Babydoll

Trying to escape from it all I detach from reality Knowing my spirit will be Safe Too much torment have I gone through To know that this story is truly mine Cut me off no matter how much I'll always find a way To fight and survive your kingdom I'm the only thing you desire I'm the only thing you hate I'm the only thing you need I'm you little Babydoll In my mind there is a haven Only I can enter, but everyone else is there Its there I will find a new tactic To keep on living in your torment On the way home I'll die a few times But just to know I really lived I'll have to find a new way to bleed If I want to escape I'll have to loose myself Cut me off no matter how much I'll always find a way To fight and survive your kingdom I'm the only thing you desire I'm the only thing you hate I'm the only thing you need I'm you little Babydoll Cut me off no matter how much I'll always find a way To fight and survive your kingdom I'm the only thing you desire I'm the only thing you hate I'm the only thing you need I'm you little Babydoll