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Narrative Peace Poems | Narrative Poems About Peace

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Details | Narrative | |

Birth, in a Quiet Room

“Well,” She asked; her eyes wide. Beads of hot sweat glistening on her brow like miniature 
crystal suns. Her angst was palpable. “What is it!”
     The air was still. There were no words. Just the sound of bodies breathing in – and 
holding.
     “Congratulations.” He held out his arms, handing the mother, her baby, “You have a son.”
     The moment shone like glass in the center of the heavens – pure and eternal.
     It was redemption from every wrong thing she’d ever done. 
     It was the shining eyes of God smiling onto her exhausted face; lighting it with hope.    
     It was the only place there was – the only time, the only space. 
     It was the only feeling that existed. 
     They were the only two incarnate souls in the room; on the planet, and in the universe.
     This was her child –
     her son.
     And she was his mother.

     (there are no words for such things. suddenly, I feel like an intruder. there are too many 
eyes, words and moments here. so it is here, I take my leave; leaving this mother and the 
only soul in her universe to their perfect moment. they will have many more moments in this 
lifetime; but none as sacred, as human, or as eternal as the first look from life to life; 
mother to child; heaven to earth, as the very first. None.)
     
“It’s a boy.” she whispered. Her throat a crumbling tunnel; stunned, but not really. Like 
she’d known it all along. “My baby boy…” She smiled into his ancient, brand-new face; 
tracing his delicate cheek with the back of her finger. “He’s perfect.” 
     She ran her palm along the bottom of his soft, miraculous foot, and laughed. “Look at 
your feet – they’re huge!”
     And as she wiped the tears with the heel of her shaking hand – smearing what was left of 
her mascara - she looked in to his, as close to heaven as one can get, eyes, and said, “Hi.
I’m your mama.” He smiled at her. He knew. He’d known it all along. “And I’ll love you 
forever…”
     The world closed its shades then. Leaving the sacred to its history; the moment to 
eternity; and their universe to its quiet, little room.
     


*Inspired by Deborah's, You Must Have Been A Beautiful Baby, contest; and every mother 
who has graced this sacred room.


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King and Queen for a Day

We bound down the stairs, out into the light-of-day, and into the blue of the
misty breezes, heavily laden with the smell of wild sea salt roses that grow in 
perfusion along the winding road, that bends and turns in gentle lifts and dips to 
the other side of the bay, where it crosses the bridge and rises up and winds 
away, over the hill.

Overhead the seagulls screech and glide over the ocean spray that washes on 
the rocks on the lower banks behind our house along the Fundy Bay, where we 
run like the wind through the fields of fresh cut hay and make our  way to the 
rocky mantle below .

There in the volcanic plateau, worn smooth as glass by the constant rolling 
weight of the ocean, is our pool, known by all in our village, as ‘Lizza’s Bathtub’, 
created by the eruption of the earth’s inner core, millennia’s ago.  

We slip into the still, salty water that has been warmed beneath the blazing sun, 
and float with the perry winkles and tiny crabs and  listen to the sound of the 
ocean, that roars beneath us as it leaves in the receding tide, while we drift 
away, in our minds, my little brother the ‘King’ and I, the ‘Queen’ for a day on 
the ‘Fundy Bay’.



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Climbing Levels Of Spiritual Enlightenment

learning from the past turning the dark into light grasping a lesson from our Father climbing levels of enlightenment The Almighty presents us with lessons each and everyday it is our job to acknowledge the lessons and grow from them Although presented in different ways we all go through the same lessons in life I call it "climbing levels of spiritual enlightenment" if you grasp the lesson presented and live by that lesson you will begin your climb if you fail to live by that lesson you will tumble back down over and over hence the lessons will be presented to you once again until you achieve them The lessons are not always pleasant as the flesh cries out in pain as I climb and fall throughout my life the agony is soon replace with delight a little pain to receive a blessing from our King What appears to be a failure or a loss with no way out is simply a hidden blessing , a gift from our King...... It's time to start climbing!!! lets grow strong..........


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The Wild, Wild West

Back in time,
in the wild, wild west,
a person had to stand,
to a face to face test.

If someone robbed you,
or stole your horse,
then to the street,
settled out of court.

Whomever drew first,
whether standing or not,
the people would scream,
he deserved what he got.

The sheriff held order,
in his little town,
and if one didn't obey,
he would lock them down.

Breaking in a home,
one better think twice,
or be willing to take,
whatever he got.

Then things progressed,
more laws were made,
and a peacemaker's life,
began to fade.

Politicians took over,
they had a plan,
and over the years,
we still don't understand.


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THOUGHTS

A calm fell over me as I arose from my birth,
A hush falls over the Earth,
As if God had, once more given birth to a new Universe.

I looked up and thought I saw, 
His bright smile reflected in the sun,
His angels were all dancing in glee,
Smiling and singing for you and  for me.

I felt His Presence,  oh! so near,
As if He was saying, "Oh my dears,
I love you so much I had to make,
New worlds for you to take".

And I thought, as His new day greeted me,
"What a kind and loving Father is He,
He greets us with a new World made from above,
 and all He wants in return, is our Love."


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Quit That Tapping

like the raven 
who taps taps upon 
your chamber door
do not fret my Virginia
for it's my shadow
moving across the floor
this is what I'm telling you my darlin
and nothing more

beneath lattice
I still call your name
come to me virginia
come hear the tap tap 
upon your chamber door
for only you my love 
I surrender and never more

wind howls in blanket snows
here I stand so all alone
broken hearted and misconstrued
my Virginia who lies under stars and moon
just a tap tap upon your chambers door
tis I and nothing more

tales of hidas truth
blackbird sings harps cords
just like the tap tap upon your chambers door
my sweet Virgina whom I adore
for there'll be love waiting and nothing more

as I lay right next to you in this tomb
I counted only seven who have even knew
the times of this raven who 
tapped tapped upon your chambers door
twas only I and will be never more


Tribute To Edgar Allen Poe
And His Young Bride Virginia
Also To His Poem The Raven


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GREET THE LITTLE KING

Greet the little King,
who has been born in a cold manger
on the holiest of nights;
and by the glitter of a descending star,
He will spread peace in the land...
follow the shepherds and find that sight! 


My gift to Him is my joyful song,
and with this clarinet I will usher in His coming...
walk side by side with the pretty angels and rejoice;
bring Him your gift, and surround Him with joy!
See the three Magi arriving on jewel-draped camels,
holding in their laps the gifts of His destiny.  


A winter's night has always been completely bright,
every hill is hidden by darkness, but an heavenly light 
appears across the frosty sky of Bethlehem, while divine
voices announce Emmanuel's glorious birth,
everyone wakes up and sees that star and follows it;
and where it stops, they find a baby without a crown.   


Greet the Son of the Highest, the Wonderful Redeemer, 
whom the Virgin Mary has borne in the humblest of places...
in the small town without a temple, or a palace for the Emperor,
where Mary and Joseph will train their child in Godly ways;
greet the little king, He will smile and invite you in,
and His smile will spread peace beyond the star-lit hill. 
 

Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci


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I Want

Yah! Let me tell you,
Let me tell you about the last struggle in our country
2000 political violence.
Those days thousands of people lay dead                      
The streets were full of blood.

I want to tell you about how people were suffering
Some they spend seven days without anything to eat
Some where forced to walk hundred miles
People where struggling,
People where crying
I want to tell you about how people were disappearing.

Brothers and fathers were forced to join the ruling party
Young stars were forced to join the green bomber youth militia
Mothers and sisters were raped,
Brutality raped.
Some were raped in front of their husbands,
In front of their children.
I was scared very scared
My tears were running down to my chick
When I saw a young 14 year girl raped in front of me
She was raped by 4 strong men. 
I sweated! Shivering nothing to say
Only I was shaking my head my hands were holding my mouth,

Let me tell you about the blood shade.
I want to tell you about the white farmers 
White people were forced to leave their farms
They left their properties they were not aloud to carry 
Anything,
Some they were beaten
Their farms were burned in ashes
Crops were slashed by the so called war veterans.

I want to tell you about how people were murdered
Some you find their body parts missing.
I was breathing heavily, 
When my friend was hanged on a mango tree
Nqobani was innocent, he was a kindness man
But he died because he was an enemy to the ruling part.
He died whilst fighting for change
Her private parts were found missing.
Tears can dry but memories can't die
I will always remember you
And I will keep on fighting unless we set free.




I want to tell you about this government 
This government of ours has totally destroyed,
Our beloved country
It has totally destroyed the whole situation
From his excellence president to his exultant dictator
Let me tell you I want.

Only the government they know is to maintain its solders
And policeman by buying them new boots, new stockiest, new 
Uniforms,
New underpants and the new button sticks
Yet the economy is going down.
Things are hard to get
No ballpoint, no sugar, no fuel, no water, even a toilet tissue 
You can’t find it
Or cry beloved country or cry beloved country.

I want to tell you everything and I will tell you
From south, to north, east to west.
From kwaBulawayo to Harare via Gweru
All corners of the country 
Let me tell you and I will tell you



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Follow the Yellow Brick Road

Follow the Yellow Brick Road As I was walking Along my chosen path Where each step marks A notch this world hath I caught a glimpse of A Yellow Brick Road Like the one from Oz Once long ago told Now how the glimpse Came my way I chose a path to take On a sunny day Back to work from break Strolling merrily along Head held high with joy Whistling a happy song I jumped over a little crack Just purposely out of my way Being sure to be aware Never matters which day As I came up to my office Tapping a rock with my heel Then the feeling hit me The vision seemed very real A comparison factor in our minds Creating obstacles out of fear Or do we step over them To prove we are there It’s our choice to place sunshine On the path we choose to go Thus creating a happy path To Follow the Yellow Brick Road Florence McMillian (Flo)


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THE CRAFT CAN CAPTURE IT

Oh well I got an angry email to begin my day
Because of my last post on the Jabidah thing yesterday
Galit sa akin but greeted me with Assalamu alaykum.
And kung personal Moro friends ko naman ito 
They know I don't criticize Moro leaders
I always leave that to them to criticize their leaders
According to my friends baka nasa gubyerno or something
Next time I'll write na lang about the sea and the palm trees and the beaches 

Pray and pray nalang para walang provocation
ako nga ang daming nag-message sa akin nagalit sa issue ng Sabah standoff
Ikaw pa kaya na wala namanng masama na sinabi dun
Alam mo ‘buti na lang you verbalized that kasi iniisip ko rin ‘yun
I know you have reasons and you know better kaya; I just read your posts
I don’t have to go against parties kasi both have rights
And the issue must be solved

Wala, kasi sa akin kundi independence lamang ang kailangan
May ganyan din kasing realities? 
Minsan you are being asked or expected to take sides
Yes, my side is peace – with peace is independence
Yes, I heard that sa dating Jabidah Massacre celebration
Somebody said that, “Walang kapayapaan kasi walang kalayaan”
And that is very universal, kapatid.

Moro or non-Moro and writing should always geared towards humanity
That’s why for me it “anti-humanity” if you will not listen 
Or suppress when somebody will talk about freedom.
That’s the problem with Filipinos, they don't listen.
Kasi the leaders may sarili ring interests.

How do you see being Filipino?
Ako, it's a cage, Filipino nationalism 
Agenda ng mga oligarchs and landowners 
Filipino nationalism is violence against Muslims and lumads
Kasi ‘pag ako ang tatanunginmo I will never say I am Filipino
Because Tausug it’s not a name but an identity...
I understand but kaunti na lang kayo

Ako sasabihin ko na I am a Filipino but I have reservations
When I was a teenager hindi ako tumatayo ‘pag Lupang Hinirang
ngayon tumatayo na kasi napapaaway ang mga kasama ko sa sinehan
Yes and identity should be critically assessed and examined.
Kaya if they say Filipino ang mga Tausug masakit sa aking loob
But not all, kapatid. try mo pumunta sa Manila
Yung mga Moro na malalapit sa mga institusyon ng Pilipinas
Bakit iba ang Moro at ibang ang Tausug
kaya sila naging Moro at masaya na tawaging Moro 

May identity na naiiba sa Filipino
Pinag-aaralan ko rin yan and ino-observe ‘yung pag-yield sa 'Filipino'
‘Will give Filipinos a disservice
Because it is tantamount to be an accomplice to a corrupt system
And this system is the one that oppresses Muslims
At alam natin ang Tausug di lamang taga-Sulu
Pati Bisayan, Tausug din

As much as possible I am trying to make my writings 'away' 
Away from Filipino nationalism
That's the right way for me and my writing
I will ask first, “How it is to be human?” 
At super last na ang, “How to be a Filipino” 
And the Bangsamoro struggle is the greatest critique to the violence
And failures of Filipino nationalism

Ang problema kasi kaya di successful ang Bangsamoro struggle
Dahil nagdadala sila ng pangalan na di naman originally sa kanila
How come ang pangalan ko ay Abdul sa rights
Gagamitn ko ang Juan para sa aking bayan?
Kaya war of ideas ito and alam mo naman sa akin, ‘pag ideas 
And perspectives walang kompromiso and peace talks 

I do not compromise my language, my craft and myself, my writing
Filipino is an imagined nation, as well as Bangsamoro
Bakit di natin magamit ang orignal nation natin 
Na based sa Sulu archipelago and Mindanao
Yes, actually diyan ako papunta - papunta

Bakit hindi i-Bangsamoro-ized ang buong Filipinas?
It doesn’t mean na i-convert ang Pilipinas 
But the spirit, the struggle it should mean something to Filipinos
It should kasi ang dami na nagbuwis ng buhay
Kaya ko pa na tanggapin kung Maharlika

‘Yan ang gusto kong ma-achieve: Filipinos should listen to Moros
Siyempre marami pang madidiscover along the way
Indeed. Ikaw ba ‘pag sasabahin ko na ‘Tausug’ ano ang maiisip mo?
Tausug is Moro and Moro for me is something that predates 'Filipino'
But now, I would like to know the concept of “Lupah Sug”
I want to know it, I think there are more and beyond Moro on it

Before ‘Moro’ was named to Mindanao and Sulu people
It was first name to Aceh people, Melaka, Brunei and then Manila
Sulu and Mindanao were the last places to have been called the name ‘Moro’
Sulu archipelago was united under the name Sulu archipelago 
The name of people is Tausug. 
Tausug is composed of different ethnics:
Arab, Banjar, Dampuan, Buranun etcetera.
The concept of Sulu as part of dar al islam 
Is already a nation and state 
Where the government is the people and itself headed by sultan or raja

Yes, and I would like to feel this from the ordinary Tausugs when I get there
I would like to experience this from ordinary Tausug and on from place itself.
In the hinterland of Jolo, their laws still on the ground not of Philippine law

I believe in narratives
I want to hear and feel this from the place and from the people.
And then capture it; I have these thoughts 
That Lupah Sug has something that the Moro concept does not have
And it’s a bit metaphysical but sige lang.

I know my craft can capture it.
I think there is a language that can capture it 
And specific craft that can carry its soul
Not fictionalize but put it in a form like a novel or a narrative
Which have their own logic and truths as crafts.






This poem is made after the conversation and sharing with Filipino writer Rogelio Braga who also serves as the editor of the poem. He is currently in Mindanao, travelling and writing; he will then proceed to Sulu Archipelago soon. 2:28PM, 19 March 2013, Facebook Chat across Sulu Sea!


Details | Narrative | |

Utopian Dream

I hold three rocks in my hand
Rolling them over and over and over
Leaving this reality behind, far behind

I feel the rocks leaving my hand 
As my eyelids begin to close
And I drifted off into my own little world
In the air the scent of a rose

I awoke to find a different world
Finding there had been a radical change
In the air there was still the scent of a rose
In my heart I felt so strange

Hatred famine and bigotry were gone
There was peace and joy and love
There were neighbors helping neighbors
Only blue skies up above

No more fear or anger
On war there was a ban
A world of human compassion
A brotherhood of man

There was universal acceptance
No damage to self esteem
I raised my eyes to heaven
Oh Lord let this not be a dream

God Bless those who suffer
Some day may your suffering cease
God bless those who search in vain
May you find love and peace.


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The Bad King

Ana Cecilia Callejas 

Rodrigo Perez Gavilan

The Bad King 

“Lexer” was a lion who was the King of the entire animal kingdom, during his reign all the animals lived in complete harmony, they were all happy and graceful, and Lexer takes care of them and protects them. One day “Lexer” and his wife had an adorable baby lion that was named “Dylan” as he grew up Lexer teached him a lot of things since he was going to be the heir of the animal kingdom. Dylan also made a lot of friends but his best friend was Jim. Dylan and Jim spend almost all the days together, as the time passed Jim started to hang out with the Rhinos, which were the bad ones of the kingdom. Jim turned into a bad lion and started to incite Dylan to make bad things and he became also a bad lion. One day lexer got very sick and a few days later he passed away so Dylan became the king. All the animals were very sad because they loved Lexer he has been so far the best ruler of the animal kingdom. Time passed and Dylan forgot all the good things his father taught him and started to become a bad lion and a bad king. Influenced by Jim and the Rhinos that were friends with Jim Dylan started to do bad things. He put animals to fight between each other just for their amusement and had some of the animals as slaves just to be his servants, he also ordered other animals to kill so he can eat and have feasts, and this caused a lot of panic in the entire animal kingdom. Dylan mother tried to make him reconsider and change, to do all the good things his father taught him for him to be a good king but Dylan just became worse. All this caused that the animals lost his confidence towards the king and started to live just with the ones of their own kind and also began to fight with all the other animals to survive. This caused that the world became a bad place and since that moment the harmony did not existed anymore and the animals had to take care on their own.
Moral of the fable: if you are a good person and you have good values don’t let anyone to influence you and change the way you are.


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Golden Windows

A young shepherd living near the hill,
taking his flocks everyday to drumlin.
He wonders deeply while sitting upon the rocks,
looking at afar house while feeding his flocks.

The shepherd's desire is fantasy of afar home,
that has golden windows behind hedge of anemone.
He wonders if the windows of the house are gold
how other appurtenance of the house are mould?

He starts his journey to there, finally after some time, 
going along the way across the hill while biting a loaf of naan.
When arrives, he finds the house in fully collapsed condition. 
There are no golden windows but a poor crumbled house. 

He looks to his own house down the drumlin
surprised by the heavenliness of his own dwelling
The sun was casting back on his house's stained windows 
just like the sparkling on the gold as the sun downs


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Peace Tonight

I sleep in peace tonight.
Hope that day will come.
When I find you underneath the 
Sun.
Waiting for me and a life that never 
stops.
For Eternal love will always be 
there.
And you will know that I care no 
matter the troubles.
That even If death were to come, it 
be with us a couple.
I sleep in peace tonight.
Hoping my family loves, and so do 
my friends.
And that God may forgive for all my 
sins.
Because when I am gone, let there 
be not a tear shed.
But a laugh of remorse, and that you 
treed lightly.
For I will sleep in peace tonight.


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THE HOLLYWOOD RANGER

Their lived a man once upon a time in Hollywood
Who in peace and war his glory stood
Reaching by far his story could
For he was known to share holy food 
From a holy book in Hollywood

Always alone he used to be
With his broad sword no enemy was left free
He could slash and shriek zubb zubb like a bee
And took a holy book and said, ‘Lord forgive me.’
And finally admitted this is how it’s suppose to be

He went to the coast to enjoy the calm see breeze
And watched immigrant ships telling him to freeze
 He killed people who had pads on their knees
And preached to those who has none of these
And could finally pray as usual in the breeze

He stood for all joy and stood for anger
For he had to use both his book and his panga
As they both worked on people to kill their hunger
He gave a wait to his finger
Which pointed at the book to kill the anger

For his missions he never was late
I don’t know how because there were no calendars to tell the date
Nor clock to tell the time, but sunrise and sunset
When he hunted his need until he would get
And his book and sword was used on time, never late

He was known to be a Hollywood ranger
Who could welcome any stranger
Whether for peace or war he was ready for any danger
On Christmas he used to sing away in a manger
And he was ready to preach and fight as a ranger

Stories were flying about adventures of him
But publishers were scared to publish his film
Nor light on him could beam
For they were afraid of his team:
The holy book, the sword, and him

Now you may wonder how I’m writing about this man
It’s neither because I have a gun
Nor because I’m able to run
But it’s because he passed away and he’s done
And every creature in Hollywood remembers this man.


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Heaven's Doorway

A light - beyond bright -
beckons me warmly
from a place beyond which I cannot yet see.
As I approach a stairway which glistens like gold,
all my former burdens and apprehensions melt away.
Body aches have vanished and I feel that I am floating toward the steps,
melting from a warmth,the intensity of which
can only be matched by the radiance of the not so distant light.
A tenderness I now can easily recognize 
emanates from that glorious light.

Nearing the stairway, I can hear sweet strains
of a music whose instruments I can't define.
I cannot see, and yet I strangely know, beyond any doubt,
that upon reaching the top of those golden stairs,
something splendid awaits me beyond the doorway.

Something forgotten is tugging at my brain,
an awareness of having been here before.
Am I simply returning to a place from whence I came
before my sojourn on the earth -
that place where loving spirits dwell in perfect peace?
On reaching the door, I do not even have to knock.
My mere desire to enter has been heard
and my unspoken questions have been answered, 
for the door slowly swings open.

I cross the threshold and enter not into a building,
but rather into another realm.
Vivid colors dance before my eyes in the guise
of flowered meadows, hills and rills, birds and butterflies.
This landscape of indescribable beauty seem to go on forever.
A deluge of memories comes flooding my mind.

Suddenly, a snow white dog comes bounding toward me.
It's my precious Ollyver, who died so many years ago, the first to greet me.
He leaps into my arms just as he used to do 
every night when I reached the doorway of my earthly home.
Flocking toward me are others. 
I become dizzy with happiness and the thrill of it all. . . 

And then appears my stepfather, no longer afflicted with dementia, 
along with my dear brother Dale, who left our earthly home
sadly when he was still in his prime and full of dreams!
Next come those beloved friends of my family, 
people whom I saw each Sunday at church and who later passed away,
people whose lives touched mine all those years ago of my childhood.
Others that arrive I recognize instantly as ancestors of mine,
 even though many of them  I'd never even met while on earth!
They come to embrace me, one after another in the beautiful meadow,
and the music I had been hearing swells to the joyous sound
of an angel's choir.

For Gail Doyle's Heaven's Doorway Poetry Contest


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Divinity

Finally..Mr.Whitman, I understand as my journey is symbolic to yours; but, through my poverty-strickened doors. Fighting your human instincts... while learning your internal glow within. Frightening, enlightening, inviting his omnipresence in and as your reward he transforms you into him. Breathing your FIRST breath again. Loving life from the core of the earth to the pull of the moon. Stuck in the middle yet understanding all of the connectivity; because I'm living in a state of Divinity.


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If i have ever hurt anyone in any way I'm sorry

If i have ever hurt anyone in any way I'm sorry, cause I learned in the last two days that everybody has something wrong in their lives everybody has troubles in some way and one word u say could hurt them badly ... And one good thing u say could make their day so everybody I'm sorry if I ever hurt u in anyway.. And I hope everyone has a good day. No one deserves to be treated how u treat people, we all have feelings... And we all have made mistakes, and we all have issues but that's no reason to treat someone like u do Imam pray u get a heart and learn what you are doing is wrong. And I hope u stop. You say u hate drama? But girl u r drama! Just saying so from now on I am going to be me, I'm going to be myself not who everyone else wants me to be... (: cause being someone your not isn't right u shouldn't have to change for anyone..


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TROUBLE ECONOMY

The american economy is on life support has been for years. Sad it makes my heart fill with tears. The land we live the land we love. America is in trouble no doubt but i don't worry about it i let GOD take care of it that way i don't got to figure it out. I want to see my future but not as a blur.


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The Hateful Sight

So far down into my pit of anguish, I find myself.

Slowly, some of my senses are coming back to me. Teh aching pain inside my soul and heart doesn't make this easy, but I try to rise my head, to stand on my own. In front of me, I find a looking glass.

Glancing at its cracked and dirty surface, I do not recognize teh face displayed in there. "For how long have I been sinking till I became this?" I think to myself. "Whatever is this that I spy, ain't worth the effort, mine or of anyone else..."

Squishing my eyes shut, in an attempt to fight this feeling of time wasted, of remorse and melancholy, feeling like my time is waning faster than it should, of it being wasted, I fail hard to do so.

Like sand, it goes through my fingers as I try to get a hold of it but, to no avail, it falls and vanishes into the drain.

And, as like that, I find her, once more. Cold and sharp, waiting. The crimson tint beneath my shell isn't a so soothing sight to behold no longer, in hope to make it fade away, all these evil thoughts and frustrations accumulating on each passing day through over all these years...

"What have I become? What have I done with my life to this point." Looking back, now I realize, all this time I've been fooling myself. Now it is too late.

I don't have time to anything else if not find relief on the click and the combustion of the dark dust. Trepanation by my own making. THe only good deed from myself to this screwed up world of broken shadows.

You should, as well, take a deep and look gaze upon this mirror without denying what you see in there, for I am of your making and you are broken equally. If you doubt, go there now and look and think... 


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Workshop Poem: Third Parallel

My first love - when we ended,
They told me to pray to God,
And that he would make time,
My new best friend.
And with the love I had for you,
The despair I would fall out of.
My second love - when we ended,
They did not tell me anything,
For what really could they say?
I sit and watch the hands of grace,
Embalming memories of emotion.
Love forbidden to ever die but,
Peace in how under time it hides.
So I still know,
In spirits and parallels,
I am still with you both,
And this was never written.

#2

From a brunette final encore,
they told me to pray to God,
and that he would make time
my new best friend.
And with the love I had for you,
the despair I would fall out of, but
when blond strands reached split ends,
they did not tell me anything,
for what really could they say?
I sat and watched the hands of grace,
embalming memories of emotion.
Love forbidden to ever die, but
peace in how under time it hides.
So I still know,
in spirits and parallels,
I am still with you both,
and this was never written.



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Pillage...and Peace

Upon a dead mound of rocks,
Approached a man, a horse,
With armored chest and visored face:
Well-shielded all across.
Looking back, he gestured motion
Then there was a shout
Of thundering voices in a parley--
Hark! A battle roust...!!

On and on went blade and sword:
Smote against smote;
The same action was followed as if,
The kill was conn'd by rote...
Insane, the enemy on which they charged,
Was forced to run amok;
A blow here and a blow there,
Death ceased those with less luck...

All at once--all was shaken,
All was left asunder;
Disaster had struck this land of dread,
Now all was left in plunder...:

No more of the smiling parched faces,
Covered in sandy gear;
No more were there happy looks--
None happiness left to bear...
They'd made a sudden chance
On those men, women and kid;
While none left to mourn askance--
The afterward's left placid...

The dead were being searched for life:
All alive left, were killed;
The loot was being gathered up--
The gathering hands were skilled..

A subtle cry was then heard,
And a hand was with hope raised;
The General turned around that way,
Scanned and sternly gazed...

It was here that he came down--
The horse he did unmount;
He neared the dying soldier's cry,
Then plunged his sword in ground...
A softer moan filled the air,
As steel pierced a mesh;
The bleeding heart bled some more,
They'd met--Blood, Steel, Sand and Flesh...


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How my life was transformed

I’m going to tell a story now of a man who having served his time in a war torn country, but due to a very sensitive nature suffered from what they like to call ‘Post traumatic stress disorder’, he was like this for many, many years, with all the symptoms of anger, paranoid, fear and anxiety, and was impossible to live with. He had studied everything from self help gurus, to spiritual teachers to conventional counselling {that man was I} but nothing helped, I just got worse and worse, which ended up in me leaving home, and in the process throwing away every thing I had ever built up, that was half way decent. After a year I went back home, my tail between my legs, to try over. But no, I was still impossible to live with, and there was never any real peace with me around. I had tried every kind of meditation, self hypnosis, positive thinking, and nothing worked. The writing did help me quite a bit, but it was never enough.

Then one day I discovered on the net an American gentleman, named John Sherman. I went on his site, at no cost whatsoever And I heard what he said, when he told me one simple thing to do. He told me to go behind my thoughts and just look at me
The me that is there behind all the thoughts and emotions when everything is gone; The me one speaks about when he or she points to themselves and says ‘me‘. Now this seemed so simplistic to me, and I kind of scoffed at it, but I tried it anyway, because I was rather desperate to bring about some changes, and I had tried everything else. it was so easy for me, and I started to do it whenever it came to me to do so. This was four years ago now, and I have practiced what he said religiously.


Now, four years later I am a different being, the anger is gone, the misery is non existent, My fear of death is all but gone, and I feel like life is one big wonderful dance. If anyone has troubles of this kind and cannot lead a peaceful life… go to 
‘www.justonelook.org’ And let John and his wife Carla help you, there are no conditions no religion and definitely no payments to be made. Just felt I had to tell someone about the Sherman’s, because of what happened to me     Peter.


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I AM HERE TO LEND YOUR CRY

Salam, how are you there?
Wassalam, good, Alhamdulillah
How about the issue in Sabah
Nothing to worry
I am worried because you are my friend
I am okay; just want to know your opinion
No probs, what do you think of that opinion?
Does it hurt you personally?
Nope, it makes sense

I am not personally taking part, I have my own problem
Indeed but I am so sad, many don’t understand the situation
They are taking one side condemning Suluk in general
So as the other Suluk in Sulu archipelago 
Many also condemning Melayu in general
I always think about others
My cousin, a policeman is in the frontline

I am so sad, pray hard
Please cry with me
I am here for you to lend your cry
Can I pretend nothing happen?
We can’t pretend to be nothing to happen
Then rest and cry with me
To make people understand is not easy
Sometime we also take time to understand our situation
I am hurt to what happen, we are being fooled by colonisers
They ask us to inherit this misery

Hmmm I am so sorry to hear that
Hopefully you won’t hate the Suluk generally
So, as long as it does not contradict to my stand
What is your stand supposedly?
 At least I have one good friend from Jolo ancestry
I am a good friend because you are good

I know nothing about the war; I just wanted to know the peace
It’s really easy to smile and pretend that you are okay
Rather than telling people why you are sad
It’s not easy to imagine that war
I just want to keep it by my self
I wanted to keep this in my sleep
When I wake up tomorrow 
Peace is expected to blow
Let have this peace to reign right away









The poem is made through the conversation with Malay friends from Kuala Lumpur about the conflict happened in Lahad Datu. We shall never put the bangsa in general as what we are thinking is right: Suluk is bad and Melayu is arrogant. We need a better understanding to conclude that each bangsa like Suluk and Melayu have nothing to do with the situation. It is a matter of siding the truth and rights. I therefore personally accepted if everyone hates me because I am Suluk and that would make the world stay in peace and to save peace, I am willing to be called such: “Suluk is bad and Melayu is arrogant” but the “country and world is peaceful” is achieved. The war declared ended today by Malaysian authority. Let Us All Save Peace. Layag Sug. 11th March 2013, Sandakan, Sabah, Malaysia!


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A World At Peace



Will there ever be total peace in the world Or am I just a silly old goon As long as loonies want more than their share Even want a piece of the moon Good people of earth will forever resist When countries get too big for their britches And want much more than they're entitled Like a bigger share of the world's riches They risk the chance of destroying our planet Destroying it for their own greedy plans They can't be allowed to accomplish their goals The future of mankind is at hand These brutal subhumans must be stopped at all cost Their plan is usually world domination Sound familiar? Reminiscent of World War II? Must avoid the same contamination So with the time I have left of a wonderful life What a fitting climax it would be To wake up one morning before getting the call Finding all world's people are free! © Jack Ellison 2015


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Soul of a Son, Life of an Addict '

There in a small town in Mississippi, a very poor family of (7) seven are yes struggeling but are yes abound. Jimmy the youngest of them at now 17 tell his father that he wants to be a Preacher The desire to teach is a privilledge that he inherited from his Uncle, and nowat that prunitive age he goes to his uncle (home) town. The soul of a son is one thing, but the life of a addict is another. My Brother, my brother he sit's down one day and listen in on one of his uncle's lectures as this friend of Jimmy is being lestured too.  You don't need to be weak at the knee's in this stage of dealing with certain issue's and as he comes to the end of his lectures he himself (jimmy) is in need of some "tissue". Jimmy is a member of the debate team(at school) one of the student is this friend, who is dealing with crack-cocaine habit that he just began doing for about a month now.  So this-this-ss partic-ular day jimmy takes him to see the preacher (his uncle) after this young friend said to him, "help-me". {I believe you can be of some help}. "Don't be afraid to seek God as your first step".
So after the two of them have elaborated over the matter for and hour, Jimmy feel's a
need of concern, so they leave together.  My Brother-my brother. "Life of an Addict",
will carry you places you never thought you'll be and keep you in situation's and you
will never be free.  Free to enjoy (life) and freedom from the depentacy of drugs
and living on the streets!!....
 These phrases becomes a part of the mindset in one's attempt to go forward with the
"Power of Prayer", and the belife of knowing you're not a "Coward".  "Soul of a Son",
is to surrender your all onto the source of everything(Faith).  And "Life of an Addict",
is knowing that God places people in your life to possitivily restore your faith in your-
self.  So when life throws you a "Nippy", (storms) that is when you're not to give up,
because the enemy wants you to think that you are always running on empty!!.
"For he is everywhere (Jesus) even there in this small town of Mississippi".


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Peace and Quietude

I wake to my kitty sleeping in my arms, soft and warm A gentle breeze from my open window All is peace and quietude Except, the singing birds calling to each other I stretch and snuggle for a few more winks Then sighing, I get up and wash Dressing in my favorite tattered jeans I go for a walk to town . . . The sky pastel blue, the air icy cold I leave my heritage building Cross the street and pass the grey stoned church Walking briskly . . . At the convenience store, I buy a newspaper, A loaf of bread and milk The town cafe is deserted, as I sip my coffee And eat my apple fritter I make a mental note to buy winter boots A warm coat, hat and mitts Winter is knocking on Fall's door . . . The streets are so quiet, as I walk to the library I wander the isles alone with only books Next, I go to the dollar store Pencils, a sharpener, and lined note pad I plan to be writing today . . . . My backpack is full, as I trek home An icy wind blowing me Past the grey stoned church Across the street to my heritage building . . . I wake to my kitty sleeping in my arms, seems I went for a walk and shopping last night in my dreams Written September 26, 2012 For the In Dreams Contest Sponsored by Francine Roberts


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the mandala with the nipple at the centre

Grogged, split into holographic shards:
Hypnogog reveleations reflect
One dreary dreamer. Divinity
staggers to recall Itself
in matter.

Is God like peppermint? I think him

more like meade caressing 
a breeze – just beyond 
the fresh whore.

Bands of succulence
orbit a soaked mind.

The mandala, stony gravel out-stations
brilliantly placed in the Logic, 
oddly so.

In the centre the most divine Creation.

The nipple more proud than unassuming
more mirage-producing
than drought.

And all around the nipple children skip
chasing fairies in the smoky glow.

All around the nipple dance children, go.
More ancient than childbirth. The cheek

of Isis swirls itself into a Promise. Food
was later, grown men (and women) don’t know.

The milk erodes its own palace. The screen
remains; like the silence in a scream.

Art only, ever in the making. The sacredness
of a breast more than Nature produces.

Some on the outer, independent scriptute.
Some more honest, after some lost inner elixir.

I say: the world would not last long without a breast.

Copyright. 2009. JLM.


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KENYA MY PRIDE

We are kenyan superstars,
That is what we are,
Kenya our mother land and pride,
Shines so bright that it cannot fade,
Today we hear,`Kenyan athletes bring home,
Bronze,Silver and Gold,'
Tomorrow,``The Kenya Rugby 7's defeat New zealand again.''

The Maasai culture came up with the Akala sandals,
Which are made out of rubber,
The  luhya introduced  Bull fighting,
The Kalenjin made `mursik' or fermented milk,
And to name but a few communities,
With their diverse cultures.
I believe that kenyans were born great,
To grow up and achieve greatness. 

To become one of the most formidable
Intellects of our time,
Just like the late Mzee Jomo Kenyatta,Dedan Kimathi,
Tom Mboya,Kijana Wamalwa to name but a few,
To change people's reasoning   conclusively,
And make them see reality and not building castle's in the air.

Kenyans were born  great,
Because greatness was thrust upon them,
To change Africa's impoverished state,
And make it a better place,
For you and for me and the entire human race, 
To raise heroes and heroines,
To conquer social evils in the society.

If  we  were born great,
Let us believe in ourselves,
Be contented with whatever we do in our lives,
Let us love one another, live in unity and work
together as a nation,
Let the past be a stepping stone for us to succeed in future,
And leave the rest, to the Almighty God.


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The Apple City New York

While listening to Schumann’s “Arabesque” 
and “Fantasiestüche” for the Mozart B flat Sonata,
I feel the warmth and love that’s powerful within;
a moment of instrospection, a source of intervention.

I live in a wonderful country, beautiful and well-known;
its historical significance and cultural diversity,
define those experiences with charm and closeness
that make something special how New York stands now.

The Statue of Liberty with its wide attraction to many,
a perfect landmark that speaks volumes about migrants;
as a gift from France that took a long voyage to arrive
between two countries there’s friendship and assurance.

The Ellis Island Immigration Museum is just close by,
where photos and experiences of the early immigrants
are showcased and memorialized as treasures of the land
so interesting that makes everyone know how they were.

In all five boroughs from Manhattan to the Bronx, Queens,
Brooklyn, and Staten Island, there’s a look of sheer delight;
great attractions and endless events scheduled for all seasons,
breathtaking sights with Broadway theatres and the brightest -
Times Square that has always been a rendezvous for tourism.

Oh, city of New York! filled with everything that one can claim
a known place in the world with so much to offer to all
like London in England, Madrid in Spain, or Milan in Italy;
all these cities have world-class shopping one can be interested in.

There are great places for dining, culture, tours, and transportation,
subways are convenient for everyone to explore Manhattan
with a number of museums, galleries, and centers for all promotions
like entertainment, history, arts, culture, music and literature.

Delighting audiences of all ages has got the Big Apple has,
it brings you up to date favorite and famous big-screen moments;
artistic and entertaining performances such as musical extravaganzas,
sci-fi fantasies, romances, sweeping epics, concerts and many others.

Trendy boutiques, funky cafes, velvet-roped nightspots and delis
are some places full of culture that one can probably explore;
their stories and history provide us with vistas and attention
Truly, places of glamour, excitement, entertainment, and much more.

Oh, city of New York it’s a great adventure to explore this, so far,
its fascinating neighborhoods with a variety of cultures involved,
a great experience, an enriching reality with multi-ethnic groups;
with legendary history that celebrates and shapes humanity.