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Sister Social Poems | Social Poems About Sister

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

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Details | Free verse |

Since First I Saw You

Since first I saw you, it was your eyes,
mesmerizing, your gaze transporting
me to a realm, not of fantasy, real,
where young men go when cupid’s
arrow takes root.

Since first I saw you, it was your lips,
captivating, holding me frozen 
in anticipation of our lips brushing
for the first time.

Since first I saw you, it was your voice,
a crescendo, light, invigorating, 
each word you speak intensifies 
my hearing, enveloping each
note, time ceases as I hang motionless
savoring, memorizing.

Since first I saw you, it was your hair,
long, flowing, gently rising above
your shoulders as a slight breeze
passes through sending waves
of your essence my way. 
The sun magnifying each strand, 
highlighting the minute
variances of invigorating color, 
creating a halo effect, a portrait of
your beauty forever imprinted.

Since first I saw you, It was you,
my love forever more for you,
only you.


Details | I do not know? |

why u lie?

you know how much i love you and you know how much i care why then do you lie to me and act like you dont really care
i tried being the best a person that loveing another can be.
yet you find the time to always tell a lie to me.
yes you break my heart after each and every lie some times its hard for me to hold the tears back so i cry. i try to hold on to what we have but it getting harder by the day for you to continue lie's, i think maybe tomorrow will bring about a change for you not to sneak around and play your little games
but i see that is your nature and you do what you do that why on today i say I'AM THROUGH WITH YOU!


Details | Rhyme |

The Family That God Gave to Me

The Family That God Gave to Me I think about the family, that God gave to me... And think about where they'll spend eternity! I think about the good times, that we've had. And the trials we've faced... Both good and bad! God helped us to overcome adversity together! And proved his faithfulness... Today and forever! He showed us the Godly path, that we should follow... And promised to be with us! Today and tomorrow! He's proven how much he loves us! And how much that he cares for us! Thank you my lord, for all you do! Where would we be? If not for you? You've proven yourself over and over again! Thank you so much, for being our friend! By Jim Pemberton


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 | Pantoum |

Virginity

Back to back we are bound
Hands tied, yet we defend
A treasure quite profound
Thought highly of by men

Hands tied yet we defend
Our innocence and pride
That for many has been bent
And, some have thrown aside

Our innocence and pride
Worth more than you possess
Although daily we are tried 
We are stronger than the rest

Worth more than you possess
Women own the power
Some sell it upon request
We prefer you climb the tower

Women own the power
A treasure quite profound
We prefer you climb the tower
Back to back we are bound

-Miranda Lambert-
**I will dedicate this to my little sister when she’s a little older :-)**
~Contest: Back to Back by: Paula Swanson~ 


Details | Rhyme |

I Know Of Someone Holding Unforgiveness


I Know of Someone Holding Unforgiveness! I know of someone holding unforgiveness! This has led to a life of much bitterness! Toward his brother, he’s held on to a grudge. From his viewpoint, he won’t even “budge.” No matter what God’s word has clearly spoken… He’s walked with a heart that’s been broken! His son prayed that God would speak to him! That he would forgive, so God could heal him! Forgiveness is a powerful thing to do! If you want God’s mercy to flow through you! We’re not called to “hold back,” the love God’s given! Through Christ shed blood… We’re all forgiven! May the love of Christ come and touch us! It’s no secret how much God really loves us! Please come Lord Jesus! And touch our soul! May we express your love, wherever we go! May God’s gentle love, be what always binds us! HIS words; “love one another,” do remind us! By Jim Pemberton


Details | I do not know? |

Cautious Love

A newly found passion, a newly found love
In there eyes the other was sent from above
An engagement after only four days
Does God work in mysterious ways?
No. I say its the foolishness of the young
Like unprepared lyrics badly sung
Don't they understand the commitment they've made?
Because responsibility and obligation have now been laid
"Do I think they'll make it?" Honestly, no
But that doesn't mean for them to pack up and go
Loves are funny and tricky things
Whoever knows what's on the other side when the doorbell rings
Caution is important and in great need
Love can be a really good or extremely bad deed
So this is what I say to my special friends
Don't be surprised if it isn't those perfect ends


Details | Rhyme |

The Ugliness Of Divorce


My parents taught me the Christian ways.
I was taught to obey what the Bible says.

I was proud of my parents!  I really was!
And loved them so much…  Just because!

They meant everything to me!  I was proud!
Until one day...  There appeared “a dark cloud.”

It was like a “darkness” hovered above.
Leaving their marriage empty of needed love!

Though they were together many years.
There were many cracks that soon appeared.

I say a once happy home soon destroyed.
Being with one another….  They no longer enjoyed!

How could this happen! I had wondered…
To see a happy marriage “totally plundered

As sin crept in...  And allowed to prevail.
Very soon this marriage simply failed.

May this be a warning for me and you…
That our commitment remains faithful and true!

If your marriage is heading toward separation…
Please seek God for a healing and restoration!

If your planning to have a divorce..
Jesus’ love can put it on the right course!

He can replace the brokenness and hurt within..
And can put your lives back together AGAIN!

By Jim Pemberton


Details | I do not know? |

For Men Everywhere One Billion Rising

1 Billion Rising.

For Men Everywhere.

Stop! Listen! Think! Act!

Stop!

Stop the abuse!

Of grand-daughters,
colleagues,
daughters,
girlfriends,
partners,
mothers,
sisters,
nieces,
wives,

all women.

Listen!

Listen to the voices!

Of grand-daughters,
colleagues,
daughters,
girlfriends,
partners,
mothers,
sisters,
nieces,
wives,

all women.

Think!

Think of how you treat,

grand-daughters,
colleagues,
daughters,
girlfriends,
partners,
mothers,
sisters,
nieces,
wives,

all women.

Act!

Act now to change yourself!

Stop! Listen! Think! Act!

The violence,
the abuse,
the rape,

stops when you stop,

the violence,
the abuse,
the rape.

Stop! Listen! Think! Act!

The violence,
the abuse,
the rape,

is perpetrated by,

grand-fathers,
colleagues,
boyfriends,
husbands,
nephews,
brothers,
partners,
fathers,
uncles,

men,

all men.

Stop! Listen! Think! Act!

The violence,
the abuse,
the rape,

stops when us men stop,

The violence,
the abuse,
the rape,

today, now.

Stop! Listen! Think! Act!


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.


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