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Social Name Poems | Social Poems About Name

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

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Details | Prose Poetry | |

A Kis

A Kis

RICHsTgPOOR



CharlaXFabels

1one7three3
 Do eye need a kis. Eye need a girl to kis. Eye have a girl that eye can kis. 
Eye have kis her in the rain. Eye have kis her in mye heart. Eye have kis her in 
mye start of every day for years of love. Eye have only to the kis to go to read more 
into kis to find the place she dwells in this old mortal frame of yearning 
dwelling place. The kis is purple bliss of alarm blazing love waking me from 
death like a Snow White Charmed young man a captive smith to Pocahontas 
fame. A dandelion flower lost in the caverns of the depths Ianthe drowning mee 
in sea ward tufts of left and right bouts of beating on the air to keep from sliding 
to the depths of drowning in her arms of love. A leap at faith a death reprieved 
from Grounded Grave a leaping portent making waves of Gragon wings. An 
attitude of love refrained in every tuft of wind again the sound of love the beating 
of the water on the roof of tin the sound of kis inside the wind and rain. A younger 
man and woman would have hardware in the way the nose and yes the nose gay 
and the corners of the vampyrific fangs. The center of the tongue is one the belly 
button too. The snooker table has a cue it’s called the ball extender bridge it's a 
cheater it’s made to let the basest man to reach her in the wind. There is so 
many problems with people the gas is oughta sight at the pumps this country is 
no longer prominent but a third world country going south. The end of time has 
come and arrived the ruthless and worthless rule in the name of god money and 
time. Take a number wait in line what’s your name please fill this out and wait. 
The number of his namme. Have you got a credit card or payment of any kind iff 
you can give me seven dollars for an office visit eye will help you the doctor is inn. 
The man was lighting a candle in front of the computer and the lieberrian asked 
him what do you think you are doing he said eye cannot see the screen. There is 
not very many rich people in all those cars on the highway whizzing by the most of 
them is middle class or less the plastic hose on the back seat is a siphon they 
use it to get gas. Eye had too many problems at home growing up to ever be a 
father. The age factor plus the drug indicator keeps me from trying to further my 
benefactor with fodder or with mudder. The morality of this hurried fable of 
dividing documents is this a kis. 

 
  
  


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 | Haiku | |

The Internet: Return

A void of Facebook
Creativity dies here...
Procrastination!


Details | Free verse | |

Bladder Problems in Class

Numbers on 
White board…names written hori-
zontally

Students ask
To go pee…right when class starts – 
THAT’S just wrong…

Bathroom line
Of students who have bladder
Problems – WOW!

People are
Not using lunchtime to do 
Their business 

No one knows
When to do their duties – SER-
IOUSLY?


Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) | |

The number the brand

When I met her , a very old lady she was , yet inside lay a frightened child .
I felt my heart cry , I felt as if I was touching history itself , as I made this older lady, child,  chai .

I remember the day , and so many tears I have cried
I have cried before she and I met 
As a child , so many tears, left confused inside .

Not understanding Why , and how could we stand by and live our lives as if this never happened ?

It happened , we are left in dismay of the movies seen the accounts taken of History 
My self ..I have caught stereotyping the very people whom did this to she , the rest of her Family erased .


The white candles we light , we try and forgive , or just simply block this pain out completely.

It occurs , over and over , as it has been said History will repeat .
When thinking of my children , when I think of that little girl losing ,  cold and scarred , feeling only defeat .

There is a lesson here and I pray , that all whom have been taken from life , have no pain and are gifted spirits throughout eternity . May they be warmed with love,  and reunited with the ones they lost .

The first time I met her , her old hand I took and warmed it with mine , I held it for a long time . 
You could not,  but notice ..the Evil imprinted on skin , the Evil only to remind.
This very old Soul , in her eyes you could see . 
The child that once lived , so innocently free, not aware yet,  of the Hostility .

I speak of a Little girl, I speak of a old woman , I speak of a Jewish,  chosen Religion.

There as I held her frail , old hand  , a brand , a number stamped in Evil a long time ago .   In 1945  , once in our distant, yet Frightening  past . 

We should never forget , never forget it happened , never forget all the names .
If we do , we have learned nothing , A World living in Shame .
                                " Etta Babooshka Kofman  "


Details | I do not know? | |

A Story My Mother Told Me

someone always told me this with tears in her eyes...


(for Lata Sethi's late-mother, who was my mother’s ‘sister’ and who took us all into her heart, and for Lata and Ravi Sethi of Defence Colony, New Delhi)


a wife left South Africa in the 1960’s to join her husband 
who was in exile at the time...

in 1970 the husband was sent by the African National Congress to India to be its representative there...

the husband and wife spent two years in Bombay...

one afternoon the husband fell and broke his leg...

the wife knocked on their neighbour’s door, in an apartment complex in Bombay

the neighbour was an old Punjabi lady...

the wife asked the neighbour for a doctor to see to the injured husband...

a Parsi ‘Bone-Setter’ was promptly summoned...

the husband still recalls his anxiety of seeing ‘Bone-Setter’ written on the Parsi gentleman’s bag...

by the way, the ‘Bone-Setter’ worked his ancient craft and surprisingly for the husband, his broken leg healed quite soon...

but still on that day, while the ‘Bone-Setter’ was seeing to the husband...

the wife and the old Punjabi lady from next door got to talking about this and that and where these new Indian-looking wife and husband were from as their accents were clearly not local...

the wife told the elderly Punjabi lady that the husband worked for the African National Congress of South Africa and had left to serve the ANC from exile...

and that they had left their two children behind in South Africa and that they were now essentially political refugees...

the Punjabi lady broke down and wept uncontrollably...

she told the foreign woman that she too had had to leave her home in Lahore in 1947 and flee to India with only the clothes on her back when the partition of the subcontinent took place and Pakistan was formed and at a time when Hindus from Pakistan fled to India and vice versa...

the Punjabi lady then asked the foreign woman her name...

‘Zubeida’, but you can call me ‘Zubie’...

the Punjabi woman hugged Zubie some more, and the two women, seperated by age and geography, wept, sharing a shared pain...

the Punjabi woman told Zubie that she was her ‘sister’ from that day on, and that she felt that pain of exile and forced migration and what being a refugee felt like...

Zubie and her husband Mosie became the closest of friends with the Hindu Punjabi neighbours who were kicked out of Pakistan by Muslims...

then came the time for Mosie and Zubie to leave for Delhi where the African National Congress office was based...

the elderly Punjabi lady and Mosie and Zubie said their goodbyes...

a year or two later, the elderly Punjabi lady’s daughter Lata married Ravi Sethi and the couple moved to Delhi...

the elderly Punjabi lady called Zubie and told her that her daughter was coming to Delhi to live and that she had told Lata, her daughter that she had a ‘sister’ in Delhi...

Lata and Ravi Sethi then moved to Delhi...

This was in the mid-1970’s...

Lata and Zubie became the closest of friends and that bond stayed true, and stays true till today, though Zubie is no more, and the elderly Punjabi lady is no more...

the son and the husband still have a bond with Lata and Ravi Sethi...

a bond that was forged between Hindu and Muslim and between two continents across the barriers of creed and time...

a bond strong and resilient, forged by the pain and trauma of a shared experience...

and that is why, and I shall never stop believing this, that hope shines still, for with all the talk of this and of that, and of that and of this, there will always be a simple woman, somewhere, anywhere, who would take the ‘other’ in as a sister, a fellow human...

and that is why there will always be hope...
hope in the midst of this and of that and of that and of this...

hope...


(for Lata Sethi's late-mother, who was my mother’s ‘sister’ and who took us all into her heart, and for Lata and Ravi Sethi of Defence Colony, New Delhi)


Details | Tanka | |

The Virtuous White Rose

--**--The Virtuous White Rose--**--

White rose is holy
Matrimony pureness of
Bond between lovers.
Blessing  to Old Rome deceased’s
Chastity and innocence.

White Rose in myth and
Legend was tainted by blood,
Made blush from kiss, thus
Made it red and made it pink
Against its pride purity.


Details | I do not know? | |

The Nameless - for South Africans of all colours who fought for freedom


The Nameless


Slipping through the sieve of history,

the nameless rest.

Not for the nameless are roads renamed, nor monuments built.

Not for the nameless are songs sung, nor ink spilled.

The nameless rest.

Their silent sacrifice,

quiet ordeal,

muted trauma,

remain interred,

amongst their remains.

The nameless rest.

Not for the nameless are doctorates conferred, nor eulogies recited.

Not for the nameless are honours bestowed, nor homages directed.

The nameless rest.

They rest within us,

they walk with us,

in every step that we tread.

They rest within us,

they walk with us,

for their spirit is not dead.


“Your name is unknown, your deed is immortal”
- inscription at The Tomb of the Unknown Soldier WWII in Moscow


Special thanks to my dearest elder sister Tasneem Nobandla Moolla, whose conversations with me about life as a non-white person growing up in pre and post-Apartheid South Africa prompted me to write this dedication to the countless, nameless South Africans of every colour, whose sacrifices and dedication in the struggle against Apartheid tyranny must never be forgotten.


My sister’s middle name ‘Nobandla’ which is an isiXhosa name and means “she who is of the people” was given by her godfather, Nelson Mandela, my father’s ‘best-man who could not be, as Nelson Mandela was unable to-make it to my parent’s wedding as he was in jail at the time in the old Johannesburg Fort. This was the 31st December 1961.


Details | Sonnet | |

Generation XXX

Generation XXX
(Another Name for Gen Y(My Generation)

Beer goggles and Whiskey Rivers,
Pain numbing remedies that exude depression,
Marijuana oxygen and pain killer shivers,
Innocent faces with devilish expression,
Blood red eyes with cocaine explanations,
White lies, cooked up in haste, 
For the aforementioned, sell your feelings for a taste!

Young lady, young lady, impossible to find,
What has become of “Daddy’s Little Girl?”
Grew up as billboard, all body and no mind,
Succumbed to degradation just to fit in this world,
Princess? No More!
With bitter wounds and sans support,
Responds to “bxxch” labeled as “whore”
Sex for poison and sex for sport!

Young man, young man, could you bear to walk alone?
With choreographed legs and clay molded spine?
Quoting the majority, speaking with your friends’ tone,
Holding onto shirttails while blindly disregarding lines,
Unprotected sex just to help you feel alive,
Forced to buy diapers with the pennies you have earned,
From one into intoxicated night you did not want to be deprived,
Came a baby by a girl whose name you had to learn!

Young lady, Young man, both working like a slave,
To provide for a family that neither wished to know,
They scream as their dreams get sealed within a grave,
Essential sacrifices because the baby has to grow,
A self-destructive generation, corrupted and vexed,
Generation Y, is Generation XXX


Details | I do not know? | |

For Bruce Springsteen

for bruce springsteen...


it was a rain-swept monsoon day

way back then, so many moons away

when i felt the music strumming in my veins

setting me free like a runaway horse without any reins

you sang of simple truths, 

your verse spoke to people just like me

in my lonely, wasted, and desolately quiet night

as you screamed out tragic human wrongs, and of everyone's plight

'bobby jean' spoke to me

of that girl down the street

glimpses of whom, we as innocents would furtively meet

and 'the river' that flowed through my ever-barren heart

led me down further roads of thunder

when slowly i finally learnt that the hardest part was fighting on

and never to surrender

to the hard-luck dreams that were born to run

while i danced in the dark 

with memories vivid and stark

even as i whined like that dog who for forever lost his howling bark

and then a 'human touch' came along

and 'better days' seemed real, not just words in a song

and still you sang and swayed and spoke straight into my unseeing eyes

as gardens of secrets were opened, and as your fist punched the skies

in an anger that i too felt and in whose cauldron i too burned

as we saw murder get incorporated, while on its wobbly axis, our fragile world apathetically turned

and then suddenly i was told that i was all grown up

working on a highway of scattered ideals

and absolving myself by sprinkling some coins in a waiting cup

well, after all these years of walking along so many a thorny road

with an armour of your verse covering me, even as i hear them taunt me and even as they continue to goad

but now i can feel myself fading away, into the bleakness of this coming night

just like the ghost of that old tom joad...


Details | I do not know? | |

The Cowardice of the Taliban and The Silence of The Good Muslims

The Cowardice of the Taliban and The Silence of The Good Muslims.


When hot lead tears the flesh of a 14 year old girl,

ripping through her skull,
leaving her to bleed out and die,

does Allah not recoil in horror,

to see His child whimper,
to see His daughter cry.

Where is the indignation,

the anger that often boils over and manifests itself as flags and books and videos are burnt in mass orgies of hollow piety,

where are the voices that scream so loud,
that denounce all but their own creed,

where are the men, the impotent men who crave for nothing more than their fascist egos to feed,

where are the voices that so loudly proclaim,
enemies here and enemies there, always quick to condemn,

where are those voices when the enemy walks amongst them.

14 year old Malala Yousafzai was shot in cold blood,

her crime?

Advocating the rights of girls to an education.

Shame on you, men of bigotry and men of cowardice.

Shame on you, silent and mute accomplices in this carnage.

Shame on me,
for my inaction,

Shame on us all,
who proclaim lofty ideals,

yet are conspicuously silent,

when a 14 year old girl is shot in the head,

by fascist fundamentalist bigots who only worship bullets of hot lead.

Not in my name!

Not in my name,
shall the cowardly men rain down abuse,

Not in my name,
shall the bigoted men light the communalistic fuse,

Not in my name,
shall Malala Yousafzai be shot in the head,

left to bleed out,
while countless mothers' tears are shed,

not in my name,
shall religious murderers,
be left to wander free,

not in my name,
for I dare all believers to open their eyes,
to see!

To see,
the innocence of a 14 year old girl,
wanting only an education,

as the men of the cloth,
prance around with their pathetic self-righteous indignation.

I write this today,
the anger raging in my veins,

yet I fear,

that I shall write more of this,

unless we stand up and say 'no more',

I fear that I shall be writing this again,

until we all,

reclaim the true principles of humaneness,

until we silence the voices of bigotry,
of rage,
of fanatical insanity,

I fear I shall be writing this again,

and,

until the muck-ridden bile,
is not excised,

I shall continue to say,

NOT IN MY NAME!

Or else I shall have nothing,

but my unending shame.



(for Malala Yousafzai, 14 years old, in a critical condition after being shot in the head by the Pakistani Taliban, for her work as a young activist advocating the rights of girls to attend school)


Details | Personification | |

I HAD A DREAM

I am looking for dream interpreters.
My name is Goodluck
Don’t swear yet please, don’t “****”
I am no president or “less”
Neither am I clueless
Parents christened me Goodluck
So if there be name sake as me
Well, that is bad luck

Like I said,
I am looking for dream interpreters.
I had a dream last night
I saw ancestors.
Breathing fire like dynamite
Asked me if I am insensitive
Or just clueless
Out of respect for ancestors, I asked them
‘Insensitive to or in what?’
“Insensitive to or in what???”
Was their angered response
“Even in this, you are still clueless”?
Their lead speaker asked

“Okay, fine! Mr. clueless” he continued
Under your watchful eyes
The plane you are saddled with,
Cries out for a pilot
For the auto-pilot can’t land it
And you are a clueless pilot
The ship you are saddled with
Cries out for a captain
For you have broken the compass
And an inevitable sink might come to pass”.

“Mr. clueless” he continued again
The streets of Jos,
Blood has become a river.
Have you seen the butchered women…
Pregnant
Have you seen the opened bowels…
Slain infants.
Religious insurgencies on the instant
United Nations office and police headquarters
All crashed landed with a bang…bomb

Churches are smashed, even mosques
The blood rivers of Jos has flowed beyond us
Now, it’s a national flood above us
Yet your greed is on the oil well
You have weakness for debt accumulation

SUBSIDY!
Your greatest height of insensitivity
What happened to profits of yester years?
Same old promise of good roads,
Good education, a better tomorrow
Yet, forty billion, a former house of reps
Single handedly stole it.
Are you leeches never ever tired of loots?
Or fear of insurgence of the deprived youths?

The people raped by empty promises of bandits
If you are in all these things clueless
Then our dreams for the country is hopeless
All leaders before you
Have creatively out done you
Hate has come to the surface
And you have lost your grace”.

Then from the dream, I woke up!
Somebody help!!!
I need dream interpreters.

THIS POEM IS FOR THE NIGERIA PRESIDENT WHO CAN’T FEEL THE NEED OF THE NIGERIA PEOPLE


Details | Sonnet | |

Gone Too Far

That’s not my elephant, officer, though she is pink.
She is right in front of your vehicle sir, I think.
Not too big, but not too small, her name is Ella.
I would say she likes to carry her pink umbrella.
I bet those second graders can see her just fine.
Yes, officer, I bet that they never drank any wine.
So to say, she is not there, will start some fights.
So remember that my faith is in the bill of rights.
She dances so fine around, around over the lot.
Upon tips of her toes, she cannot smoke pot.
However, she can eat spaghetti, with meatballs hot,
She loves to slurp, and swing the noodles in trot.
Don’t you see her now, over on top of that car?
Well, sir, you’re under arrest, you’ve gone too far.



Written for

Sponsor Matt Caliri 
Contest Name That's Not My Elephant 


Details | Rhyme | |

Click, click

Click click, that's the name of the game
Click click, you're going insane
Click click, is it nice outside?
Click click, should I even try?
Click click, it's the name of our generation
Click click, hypnotic masturbation
Click click, researching nonsense
Click click, losing my conscience
Click click, puppies and kittens
Click click, more statuses written
Click click, everyone has a voice
Click click, everyone has a choice
Click click, donate to causes
Click click, without hidden clauses
Click click, the world is becoming transparent
Click click, it's all so inherent
Click click, this is public domain
Click click, but please don't restrain
Click click, an abundance of trolls
Click click, did I just get rick rolled?


Details | I do not know? | |

MLK - 1929 - 1968

MLK...
(January 15, 1929 – April 4, 1968)


they shot you down
all those years ago

but

your dream lives on
and always will

for though much has been
gained since you dreamed
your dream

there is much to fight for
and much more to struggle for

and much, much more
to fight for still

so
your dream resounds in
our hearts and we pledge 
this to you today
for though they shot you down
all those years ago on a memphis day
we shall overcome
this we do believe
deep in our hearts
that
we shall overcome
someday...


(for Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.)


Details | Ode | |

HIS WEALTH 1

HIS WEALTH

He was renowned for farming 
ploughing lands as large as atlantic  
but his harvests he keeps beyond the sea
beyond the sea all he got

Down here, his roof leaks
his town roads untared
they make use of his wealth
to paint their town more white

he thinks his wealth is safe 
but the value they use
promising him security and secrecy
to shut their mouth from his people

his pots occupied
by cockroach and rats
as had been aboandoned by his wife
his children grow everyday
developing big belly and head

He goes back to use ibeleju as lamp
but he claims to be rich
his children goes fishing to pay their fees
the school fees he has refused to pay

they built a school for their wards
and beg them to look inside papers
nobody pays a penny
those are the people beyond the sea

his wealth is intact
but had been used
times without number for their anuual budget
they beyond the seas

Worms leak his intestine
and his offsprings from six to two
he took their looks to the people
the people beyond the sea

they gave him a name "Malaria"
Malaria took them all
contented he came
carring no less for his kwashiokor wards

His bicycle like buried iron
yet he appears before his kinsmen
to speak in language that tingles
they smirk at him

though the gods let him live
his expliots and wealth
managed and utilized by the people
the people beyond the sea

he claims to be learned
while they have brain washed him
he trusted them
and left our heritage

the gods forbide
our black heritage
that our fathers died to protect
like our brotherly love

Our heritage
that forbade greed
he forgot our maxim
that of Unison

him that our fathers gave the "Ofor"
the Ofor that represents power
power to protect our interest
our black interest

the gods bear us witness
witness of our unquenched suffering
starving in front of plenty
plenty at the so called bank

banks beyond the sea banks
the name for their civilised theft
theft because they use the value
the value of your wealth
to reinforce themselve

the Ofor has fallen
from his hands
the gods has departed  from him
but he will not believe

our chambers now lagoons
lagoons from the light shawers
our tables now canoes
and soup spoons paddle

mosquitoes now our pets
nursing our children
our working age amended
starting from 6  to sleep

our heads now bald
not from age
but from fetching water
water from the eden 


Details | Sonnet | |

Sarah Kendricks

Sarah a name that means a princess in noble birth,
Along with biblical experiences of religious worth,
Reading her work one can tell of her tenderness.
A real poetess that has such natural cleverness,
Here and now I dedicate this for her gentleness.

Kindness she has shared with all so generous.
Each word I write without ever meeting her.
Never speaking to her, I know many concur.
Dedicating a sonnet is more then she expects.
Reality is, this will never show what she reflects.
I saw her sonnet was waiting to be written true.
Carefully I read her words, to get honest clue.
Kindness, blessed imagination her poetry thru,
Sincerely, I hope she enjoys this poetry I do.


written for
Sponsor Brian Strand 
Contest Name 1-14 any theme /form max 14 LINES  


Dedicated to Sara Kendrick

sorry somehow my writing software changed your name and I did not notice until after I wrote it in an Acrostic Sonnet poem as well....


Details | Free verse | |

The Final Shout

A hundred times I mention her name in loneliness,
a thousand times I shout her name into the wilderness.
In my wildest dreams and tormenting nightmares I have cried for her,
at life’s every twist and turn I have reached for her.
In the prison’s dark alleys I have searched for her,
in my mother’s womb I must have craved for her.
She is more the image I seek than who she probably can be.

She is someone about whom I have an archive of unwritten poetry…
Though a dream she wakes me with hope;
with twinkling eyes and soothing lips.
She is she and much much more,
her beauty glows as she ages.

When the rope turns its final coil to squeeze that last drop of draining blood,
I’ll smile at the mirage of her vision in full entity and shout her name with all the 
might 
Lo, I shall shout “Freedom!”


Details | Dramatic monologue | |

THE TRIALS AND TRAVAILS OF BEING POSITIVE

The Doctor delivered the news
like a Court Judge
in a final death sentence verdict
"You are HIV positive!"
A the clinic corridor
the Nurses had gathered
Like Eagles converging on carcasses
they fed fat on my 'pitiable' frame
muterring and whispering in low voices
"that's the lady"
"the new member of the club"
At home, in the living room
the family gathered in dead silence
mother wept, as if mourning my death
"all my efforts down  the drain", she wailed and wailed
father gazed at me
like a psychiatric home returnee
"what a terrible end!", he lamented
At work, in the open office
my table enjoyed expanse of space
"Hi!", they would wave at me from afar
To call my name was like catching the virus
they would rather die than shake my hands
In our street
people peep behind the windows blinds
"don't you ever go near!"
parents warned their children and wards
many fingers pointed at me wherever i turn
"see the results of promiscuity"
they'd say to themselves
in the local shop
i need not to queue
"just come over here awhile, my dear"
the shopowner would cajole
giving me special treatment, i never got before
everywhere i turn and go
i have a name tag
and see huge price tag
of being an unfortunate victim of HIV/AIDS


Details | Rhyme | |

Jesus Your Name I Will Cherish

Jesus, Your Name I Will Cherish!

Jesus...  Your name I will 
always cherish.
Without you.  I would 
certainly perish.

Knowing you has been a delight!
You are with me,
Each day and night!

YOU are my best friend! 
 God's precious son.
My daily provider!.  
The all sufficient one.

You loved me!
When I was lonely and sad.
I have joy and happiness,
 I once never had.

You are my savior and best friend!.
That's why I fall in love with you
 all over again.

Your life, for mine,
 is what you provided!
Living for you, 
Is what I decided!!

By Jim Pemberton


Details | Rhyme | |

face book

i saw your face at face book
the beauty that you borrowed has has indeed  given you a new look
sexy eyes and curved face like a restaurant cook
wow that is a girl any one can now hook
tell me what was the name you just took
that name i guess i've seen in a book!
any way i even did try to poke
into your wall,i must say i adore your look


Details | Ballad | |

The Hot Dog man

His name is Jane F he is the hot dog man Mac a Nation
creation, the hot dog man, His name is jane F and  he
is lunch money for Satans men,  Mac a Nation creation
his is the hot dog man, Mac a Nation creation and
jane F  wants Hot Dogs for Satan men, Mac a Nation
Creation what is is Mac Nation Creation what is is
Moral Moral or surival surival moral moral surival
is the hot dog man here macanation surival moral 
do you have surival or morals mac a nation creation
its the hot dog man lunch money money honey honey
darlin darlin it lunch money oh honey


Details | Free verse | |

Societies Maggots

Feeding hands of western promises
hold children by the throat.
See salvation die in porcelain tears,
shed from broken accords.
Innocence betrayed on altar of success.
A thousand Hail Mary’s won’t erase this sin.

Fingers resting on pulse of destruction,
a crack in the seal of Pandora’s box.
Old soldiers, cruising, trying to pick up a war,
while night angels gaze into despair.
Ancient enemies raise peroxide standards,
sweeping blame under histories carpet.
Alleys sing with shrapnel, 
detonating a temporary hell,
and some young solider returns a hero
upon the gravestone, his name immortalized.

Swollen bellies cry for freedom
as they cling to threads of life.
Silenced by butt of tyrants gun,
smashing tomorrows thoughts.
~all in the name of progress~

Charon takes loans to pay the passage
on fast track to heavens gate.
Peter’s list grows shorter
while demons cry from the pulpit,
“room for one more”.

Responsibility drowned on a Saturday night,
fighting the flood of vodka and coke.
Where love is measured in one night stands.
In queues outside the abortion clinics,
morning after pill eases the conscience 
of a generation that doesn’t care.

Wallowing in self-pity,
taking pills to ease the pain,
in a world that owes us everything.

Yet we give nothing in return. 


Details | I do not know? | |

Untitled number:64

He stands Army strong in his big combat boots.

He's makin a name and defending his roots.

To set him off would be your regret.

An enemies name he won't forget.

Gentle with a woman and strong with his words.

He won't back down until he knows he's been heard.

For a good cause he stands firm and tall.

Loyal to his friends...he's the guy to call.

To him man...


Details | I do not know? | |

Prayer for Parents

In the name of the Father, of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen…

Almighty and everlasting God
Who, in the secret counsels of Your ineffable (indescribable) Providence (Fate)
Have been pleased to call us into life by means of our parents
Who therefore partake of Your divine power in our regard
Mercifully hear the prayer of filial (familial)  affection
Which we offer to You
In behalf of those to whom You have given
A share of Your fatherly mercy
In order that they might lavish (produce in abundance) upon us
In our journey through life
The consoling gift of Your holy and generous love.
Dear Lord
Fill our parents with Your choicest blessings
Enrich their souls with Your holy grace
Grant that they may faithfully
Constantly guard that likeness to 

Your mystic marriage with Your Church,
You did imprint upon them on the day of their nuptials
Fill them with the spirit of holy fear
The beginning of wisdom
Continually move them to impart the same to their children
Such wise may they ever walk in the way of Your commandments
May their children be their joy in this earthly exile
Their crown of glory in their home in heaven
Finally, Lord God
Grant that both our father
Our mother may attain to extreme old age
Enjoy perpetual health in mind and body
May they deserve to sing
Your praises forever in our heavenly country in union with us
Their children
Giving You most hearty thanks
You have given upon them
In this valley of tears
The great gift of a share
In the light of Your infinite fruitfulness
And of Your divine fatherhood.

In the name of the Father, of the Son and of the Holy Spirit
Amen


Details | Rhyme | |

The Threat On Democracy

The government of the people's 
right, 
soaked in the heart of freedom 
and fairness; 
many for your enthronement did 
fight 
but our rulers age use 
your shadow power to harness.

Where is your true face oh pure 
democracy ?
The lions on the throne has 
painted you black and ash,
human right have been
burried in their court of 
conspiracy
just to fill their pockets with our 
golden cash.

Tell me oh democracy, are you 
this little errand boy
that our princes slaps and 
rubish all day? 
Or are you this catchy caption on 
our campaign billboards 
employed by political spies who 
wants to have their way?

Many still hide under your sacred 
umbrella for political shelter
but the rays of corruption 
and nepotism still spank their 
head,
many still hope and pray to have 
you as their only charter,
but the arrow and spears of our 
political gamblers wants you 
dead.

Many still hide under your sacred 
umbrella for political shelter
But the sun rays of corruption 
and nepotism still spank their 
head,

Panels have been set up to lay 
your foundation
And hands have been shaken at 
the end of it all 
But injustice has build in the 
heart of our rulers mansions;
They kicked your golden seal 
into the ditch as a ball.

Arise oh philanthropist of fair 
governance 
Purge our political system of this 
borrowed sewage
Let's give this invaluable gold of 
governance a chance
For it was bought with the 
blood of heroes and sages

Oh medal of our fathers victory,
 Stare up the golden bones in 
your wings
 And fly into the power house of 
our nation's glory 
That once more our ancient 
solidarity anthem we will sing.

 Oh democracy break out of the 
slavery of these theives 
Your name have they use to 
blindfold us through diplomacy:
Seperate the shadows from the 
sparrows with your fair sieve 
And let our nation be proud of 
your name called democracy .


Details | I do not know? | |

Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin Mother Mary

Angel Gabriel sent from God the Eternal Father
The virgin’s name was Mary
Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with you
The angel said to her “Do not be afraid Mary”

“You have found favor with God”
“You will conceive in your womb and bear a son”
“You shall name Him Jesus”
He will be great and son of the most High

Of His kingdom, there will be no end
Mary said to angel
How can this be
Since I have no relations with a man

The Holy Spirit will come upon you
The power of the most High will overshadow you
I am the handmaid of the Lord
Be it done to me according to your word

12112011


Details | Rhyme | |

The First of Twenty-six

There are twenty-six letters in the English alphabet.
They haven’t added any others as of yet.
Consider yourself lucky today
if your name begins with the letter “A”
In alphabetical order, you are one of the first in line.
My name begins with “P”.  You are well ahead of mine.


Details | Free verse | |

Click here to comment to join the click

comment on this
just leave your name
with thought on what you would have done to improve this
smiling hands of cigarettes
and singing bars
and then one by one later on go down the list
of those who left a remark
on this click
and welcome their efforts to belong to a group
and as you slide into their arms
as you go down the list
to comment on their works
of loves and struggles
and sentimental
and backwards logic
we'll ponder the joke without humor
of who and whats his name going where with the bases

so leave your comment
and tell me about the lights on at home
and if you turned off the stove
we'll dance in denials of sweet smiles wether we protested innocence or justice
to condemn which side pooping the majority
basking in the ignorance of minor priveledged details

place your name with a hello
please stop by
add your name with a uplifting
witty remark of something
and see yourself shine in time
join this click
and see those
come to you from going down the line as they slide
to drop you a line

So here's the first click
after you sign up
we'll discover our motto and games
our routines and voices
and go forth with a brigade of saving or condemning the human race
join our click
its cool
to be a joke
just leave a comment
and it will return to you
like a conversation with a mirror
now that we're coming clearer

welcome to the click
I'll so you around!


Details | Blank verse | |

poverty's angels.

wreckless.

no one is less a man than a cadaver, high on good guy philosophy. too much for me.
white wash.
there is a room w/ no walls. there is no room.

Pandora; show me that your box isn’t purely decorative. i’ll show you that my brain,
indeed, is figurative.
	
	scratching. i hear scratching from inside!
a rat? no!
a cat? no!
a eunichorn? most definitely!

no loyalty in that box. no lithium to be had.
	strange fish flopping ’round w/ bovine skulls, in a christian world, sad.

how much buddha is too much buddha?
	i see him reclined in my father’s chair, uncharacteristically somber— masturbating into a
flower. 
	i turn inside out, away.

distant.
children skipping rope in silhouette, gunk on their faces.
no spittle for the kleenex; mothers w/ dry mouths, eating corporate odour.

Brand New Century, Half The Fat!

innovative contraceptives administered at birth; a layer of crazy glue, a surgical glove,
another layer of glue and then we send them off to play in the sand.

Crazy.

an asian man is laughing horizontal naked, an “Hello! My Name Is:” pin attached through
his nipple.
his name is Tex.
An asian man named Tex.

there are constant shortages; money, laughter, tenderness... the cracks in my kitchen are
filled w/ poetry.

we take solace in each other; minds, bodies.
trade our youths for bread, drink from lacerated palms.

i look to find no windows; only one immaculate door, located on the ceiling, and i’ve no
ladder. 

Poverty’s angels must not fall, must not die at the hands of their own good graces.

down here.

we promise ourselves forever not to be sickened by our own fears.

only the shadows that they cast.


Details | Free verse | |

MARTYER

Martyer 
Martyer 
His main idea was not survival unless you count the spirit at the end of life. The 
hatred in his heart for the people cheering and jeering left him in just one 
moment of his time. A heart given to the LORD will never die but is beating now 
inside the body of the christian. 
The man was name of mud or even fence his name is not important but just for 
this one poem call him JIM. Jim went to the ARENA against his own will and torn 
inside to try to survive and live. The end of time comes to some in the form of real 
life death. The crowd was silent as the MAN strode to the LION and slapped him 
twice so hard the lion felt it. 
The man was soon destroyed by the LION just reacting just a thing created to be 
smiting 
anything and anyone that bothers it. This man JIM was soon a thing of many 
pieces laying there. This is called martyr when a MAN gives of himself to his own 
LORD the life given unto him is now returned. This is very hard to do and seems 
so odd and yet the way to Heaven is not easy for most men and the Lion would 
not eat the man for food it seemed to sense that the party was now over. The 
Emperor was Constantine he loved the sport and watched it endlessly not no he 
did not like the persecutions but even this Constantine was unable to save the 
life of JIM the martyr the christian the friend of JESUS . ROME continued in its fall 
and fell from Grace but thanks be unto Constantine for making it a better place. 


When Diocletian and Maximian announced their retirement in 305, the problem 
posed by the Christians was unresolved and the persecution in progress. Upon 
coming to power Constantine unilaterally ended all persecution in his territories, 
even providing for restitution. His personal devotions, however, he offered first to 
Mars and then increasingly to Apollo, reverenced as Sol Invictus. 



Details | I do not know? | |

What is religion?

Religion 
A God gift
A message from creator
On the name of his creation.
But it seems to me
A permit on the name of God
To exploit others
Who has no faith in their preaching,
To control them
Who has their different method
In worshipping,
Why I think that
Over the centuries
My ancestors
Are divided into different castes?
Raped and killed innocently,
Were burnt alive
Their babies are on sale,
Because they were banned
By a religion on the name of God
Not to get education
To stop their progress
Economically, physically and mentally,
Islam ruled over them 
Thousand years
But failed to introduce a policy
Of an equal opportunity,
Christian ruled over them 
for hundred years,
Failed to introduce a legislation
To remove injustice of untouchability,
To establish fare justice system
to remove their down trodden status,
But the religion believer belief that
God only has some special for them
Because they hear his message
So they deserve to control them
They are not the part of their preaching
As Hindu treated Dalits
Over the centuries
But no religion open their mouth
To condemn that
God has no free gift
Or special service for anybody
as they think,
Caste is their God Gift,
If we all are brothers and sisters
Then
Why we has such difference?


Details | Prose Poetry | |

20FabelSEVEN

20FabelSEVEN
Charlexes Fabels
Gardenor
A Mexican sweat is just a teepee with a fire made hotter and a rock placed where 
you can pour the water on the hot rock to make some steam come up and they 
add some pine to make a smell so sweet to tired alcoholic lidded eye eye did my 
time cold TURKEY and never needed one. One man who works in landscaping 
as the gardenor becomes too busy to notice the other man escaping on the 
sidewalk it is the thief the gardenor is using both his hands in his effort for 
release the other man in shadow land appearance coinciding with the worker 
there just thinking while he is walking hands in pocket just holding on to nothing 
as he sort of Saunders bye? Saunders
For over 60 years Saunders Manufacturing in Readfield, Maine has made top 
quality Form Holders and Clipboards for millions of customers worldwide. Now 
our new Portable Desktop line continues the tradition. Just a coincidence please 
Gentile reader ewe must understand the non commercial usage of this poem 
business. A Random act of kindness to your senses.
Charles (surname) 
Charles is a given name for males, and has its origins in Common Germanic 
where it originally was used to indicate a free man, but not one belonging to the 
nobility.
While eye was typing this the contact email on the link opened up into a brand 
new page and never made connected to the name? please people if you put the 
actual name of your email address then we the customers can copy and then 
past the thing and then you could have read my fable and had a much better day 
oh Mr. and the Mrs. Saunders. The Gardenor may read this missive iff eye bother 
to make the translation into Spanish for the bulk males of the working force is 
Mexicans.
GARDINER: From the Danish for "garden keeper." A noble profession and a vivid 
name. Relatives: Gardener, Gardenor, Gardner, Gardnard, Garden, Gar. 
Namesakes: Erle Stanley Gardner, John Gardner. Eye am just a Charles 
derivative a CHARLAX iff ewe will of some great import a relic not a derelict of 
duty a lover never a fighter a want to be husband to the ewe oh ewe please smile 
as ewe aer reading this one and be sure.
Jealousy is never meant to make us harm but only to make love come back so 
strong to make the other one in love return a little stronger than she was before 
the Jealousy.


Details | ABC | |

Eugene (

I am self proclaimed real swinger
My name however, for a Nerd is a dead ringer
I have perfected the War Craft game
On Micro Soft computer applications, I can put anyone to shame
I am not into testosterone things such as fuel injectors
Secretly for Christmas I want a pocket protector
For every movie my name is in, I steal the scene
It is my parents I owe for the burdensome name of Eugene
Other bad names for example one is Clarance
He said he was named after his Grandpappy, what an inheritance
As for as it goes, I should be thankful for my health
I am so grateful for not being named Ralph
When I was growing up, there was a kid I know
He hated his named Ralph so much, he insisted on being called Ditto
I always make sure my handkerchiefs are always clean
Welcome to my real world of Eugene
There was one Nerd who rivaled my Nerdy world
Did I do that? Famous words of  Erkel
Yes I do wear a wrist watch calculator
I carry a pocket sized stapler
Girls who share my interests are far and few in between
Will any female ever see the masculinity beneath the skin of Eugene


Details | I do not know? | |

Gossip

Hello, my name is Gossip.
I am nobody's friend.

I pick and choose the people I feed.
Once I tarnish a reputation, it's never the same.
I make innocent people cry in their pillows.

My victims are helpless.

I flourish at every level of society.
To track me down is impossible.

The harder you try, the more elusive I become.
No one can protect themselves against me.
I can disguise my face.

The more I am quoted the more I am believed.

I topple government.
I wreck marriages.

I maim without killing.
I break hearts. I ruin lives.

I am cunning and malicious.
I gather strength with age.
I have no respect for justice.

My name is Gossip.


Details | Rhyme | |

What Does Your Name Mean?

What is the meaning of your name?
That is something you ought to know.
Does it reflect your personality,
Or does some other attribrutes show?
Does it insist upon your character,
And have you lived up to your name?
Is it something that you are proud of,
Or should another be your fame?
For a good name is more desirable
Than expensive perfume unsold,
And a good name is more favorable
Than the wealth of riches untold.
It is better than silver or gold
To have a name of high esteem,
Because a shameful name destroys
A good reputation and a dream.
So, for its sake, do what it takes
To keep it from becoming profaned;
What is your name?  What does it mean?
Is it being rejoiced?  Is it being disdained?


Details | ABC | |

BE CARE FUL

My name is John,
i behave like John,
a king who was wise.

My name is Grace,
i behave like Grace,
a man who was blessed.

But my brother at home,
he was baptized chaos,
a name from a thief,
and he behave like a thief . 

Oh!  mind about names,
the luck behind them,
can rescue your life,
or put you in chaos!