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Best Poems Written by Trevor Dsouza

Below are the all-time best Trevor Dsouza poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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A Fixer's Change

A Fixer’s Change
Lost! He was lost to us all
A son, on whom all hope was pinned,
Lost to the world of his desire;
Substance abuse, needles and wind.
He was a shame, disgrace to them
Family felt bad, knowing his deeds,
But he was in bondage of those highs-
Robbed, cheated to buy his needs.
A few grams of powder to sniff away
To another realm of dimension and space,
Just a few hours then back to the strain
Fixing, sniffing or snorting a chase.
Time was running out, he had to change
Went into rehab and struggled his way
Through recovery, life to rearrange,
For wife and children, once three he betrayed.
He surrendered to God his life so broken
Began to be trusted by kids and wife
Society forgot his inglorious past
Learnt to relive and honestly survive.

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A Farmer's Plight

A Farmer’s Plight
The field is ready
The work is done
Toiling in the soil
Under the sun.
 We wait now for the monsoon rain
To end our hunger and our pain.
Loans, in part will be paid
When we harvest our toils, we laid.

“I the landlord tell you so
That which you must know.
The land is mine not yours to own
Till you pay back all your loan.”

“I need some time to pay you back
Right now, money is what I lack.”

“These papers you need to sign
Give me back what is mine.
We have waited long enough
We’ve been patient, not so tough.
We can’t wait longer now
You need to pay the cash somehow”.

They drag him down, treat him rough
Might and power they wielded tough
Destroying all he had sown
 Because of that sordid loan.
They pull the gold off his wife
Earrings, chain adding to his strife.
The farmer had no strong response
They took away his every ounce-
Away with wife and child they went
Leaving the farmer desolate and spent.
There on his field, left alone
The farmer had all cause to mourn.
He knew not what to do or say
In the darkness of his day.
His body pained and bruised so bad
All was taken what he had.
His tortured mind was filled with pain
He couldn’t stand on his feet again.
All hope lost; confused distraught
To think his labour, pain had brought.

What was left for him to do?
He couldn’t think nor reason too.
There was no reason to live no more
When all was lost what he did sow.
Nothing was there left in life 
Desolate without child and wife.
Darkness grew e’en though day
Sun was clouded in mid of May.
He decided this was the end
No other way he could comprehend.
Darkness grew in the light of day
His spirit shattered in every way.
Darkest hour of all time
True labour seemed his only crime.

Then his son grew to be a man
Fathered a son no better than
His sire whom lost to fret
For fate bred him in a farmer’s sect.
His son he sent to school to learn
Desire for greatness in his son did burn.
His father too deep in loan
Couldn’t afford cream or eau-de-cologne
Son was not troubled by his fate 
Life’s ambition was to immigrate.
Then they came again as in the past
Abusing him for his farmer’s caste.

They said, some part of the farmer’s land
Be mortgaged: the son did understand 
That this is it: enough is enough
Forget his dreams of ties and cuffs.
He had a friend, he spoke his plan 
Began to work within their span.

He left the shores of his homeland
Sorrowed though, pursued his plan.
Years later his parents too went
Broke their hearts: son now earned 
In pounds and pence.
Happily, they lived; no worry or fret
Forgetting the past without regret.

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A Soldier That Lost His All

A Soldier That Lost His All

Despite his means, despite his plight
He rendered help to those in need,
No place he had fixed for each night
His life lived in faith and creed.
Dressed in tatters, braved the cold
Ragged shoes, save his sole.
Thanked the Lord, each day he spent
Ate what offerings, people sent.

Every passer-by smiled his way
Answering greetings friendly warm,
Was not contemptuously cast away,
Remembered by all, in his uniform.
Served his country through many strife
Lost his property, home and wife.
Children too buried in a bombing raid
All this made him much dismayed.

Pension strained, slight; he’d live upon
His life was a real hardscrabble,
To the Bureau, monthly he’d respond
Facing another cyclic grapple.
To the graves he’d go, wife and sons to greet
For each, flowers: his grief was still incomplete,
Back to base, poor children run and seek
Distributing candies, warm smile to receive:
Giving satisfaction more than their relief.
Church bells was his call to God, praising and to thank
Every morning ritual even before the war began.
Spending time with the Lord
While silent tears he’d weep
No remorse, no regret
He was the shepherd’s sheep.

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On Floyd

On Floyd
Riots unleashed, arson, looting and destruction.
You officers of law mindful of your job
Are you aware of what you have done?
You judged and executed not your duty
But a human life.
Is that ‘bill’ more precious than breath
You constricted so brutally?
Were you so inhuman not to see him struggle
For his life?
You are no better than a beast
Officer of the Law.
You heard the protest of one man
Now, you have thousands screaming for your blood.

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Women Have a Voice

Women Have a Voice
Women have a voice
Strength in their silence
They have caused heads to turn
Rocking the world with defiance.
Marie Currie turned the tide
Against male dominance
Mother Teresa the weaker side
Overpowered men of prominence
Much against their heaves and sighs
To save many without supplies.
Women are stronger now,
With social platforms giving voice
They control every rank
Which once, men them employed.

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Crisda Rodrigues

Crisda Rodriguez
My fleet of cars included high end wheels
Now I drive them not.
Helped by someone to wheel me around
Driving is now forgot.
Wardrobe full of designer wears
Valuables in my vault,
Now, I'm wrapped in a piece of cloth
Nurses attend my call.
Money, plenty stored in banks; earned
Through few working years,
With laughter, work, fun and toil
No tissue for my tears.
House is a mansion adorned with art
Crystals from round the globe,
Left behind for this single room
With a bed and hospital robe.
Salon, I frequented; makeover my hair
Prided its delicate touch,
Time has changed, my head's now bald
Not a style I loved so much.
From five star to five star, I'd move my days
To dine or celebrate,
Now, I'm moved from bed to lab
Back again to isolate.
Private jets with ease I flew 
From place of work to home,
Then a holiday on a cruise enjoy
But now I frequent the dome.
Nothing matters: no not wealth, delight,
Good times, pomp and fame,

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A Blessed New Morning

A Blessed New Morning
Smoking clouds, skylight change
Palm trees and leaves that range,
Time of day, crowned with jewelled hue
Against the ethereal, seeming blue.
Placid waters drink in radiant shadows,
Music coloured by dew kissed meadows.
Gold, green, darker shades glow
The Master Artist, we all ignore.
Stop and watch this beauty unfold
As His art He doth ne’er withhold.
Enjoy the sight of wondrous scene
Duplicated not on His canvass green.
Praise the Lord that lets us dream
Hope in Him no matter how extreme.

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Good Samaritan

Good Samaritan
There once was time
Visitors would stream,
When a person’s health
Was like milk with cream.
Now, that milk is soured cream
No knock-on door no visitors stream.
There were many to wine and dine
Any place at any time,
Now, they’ve vanished into thin air
Only calls to say they are there.
Sometimes a good Samaritan
Will come by with true concern,
With a prayer he’d join the infirm
Leaving, but I’m not now alone.

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a Lonely Christmas, Not So Lonely Afterall

A Lonely Christmas, Not So Lonely Afterall.

I closed the door with flowers in hand
Walked the side walk alone,
People passed me without a wave
Was going to read the epitaph on stone.
Flowers for my darling that passed away
Leaving me with children far away
 To celebrate another lonely Christmas Day.

I entered the house of the dead
Where people find a final place to rest,
It was quiet, peaceful, solemn and still
Not a tune of wind like on blueberry hill.
I doffed my cap placing flowers gently down:
Remember meeting her in the busy town.
Sixty years together we spent in joy
Sixty Christmas trees built with lights and toys.
Children were small once, now all grown
Found their way, living in their own zone.
They phone to wish on Christmas day
With love and kisses from far away.

I walked alone trudging along
People passing by
Not a wave or nod or wish 
Though their Christmas spirits were high.
Someone seated on a bench 
Ignored my struggling legs,
I wanted to say hello friend
But he turned away his neck.
I entered a small café warm:
Splendid to the bone
A stranger offered me a drink
I suddenly felt not alone.

A little dog came up to me
Jumped upon my seat;
Petted him; he my hand licked
Then jumped down to my feet.
A lady seeing her dog with me
Came, greeting me with glee
Wishing me for Christmas
With a plate of warm pastry.
Her husband joined me at table
After hugging me warmly
I suddenly felt not alone,
That Christmas afterall.

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A Sword Shall Pierce Your Heart

A Sword Shall Pierce Your Heart
A sword shall pierce your heart:
What a sword it was!
Thirty years, this agony bore
Without question or pause.
She accepted the grace of God
Humbly saying, she’s blessed;
Accepting intense agonising pain
Without complain or distress.
Mother Mary lived every moment
Suffering but never claimed
Smoother road for Son’s testament
But saw Him damned and shamed.
She was an epitome of patience,
Humility and obedience,
Never wanting but her presence
Suffering in simple humble silence.
She knew His fate was destined
For that cross on Calvary,
Yet, she faced it all so broken
Seeing Him tricked by treachery.