Best Abolished Poems
POTW 12th May 2019
Thank you for visiting my third Visual Video Poem, more or less a continuation of my previous poem – ‘The Dreamer’
(I invite you to view the complete production effects and the superb narration by Kelvin on the video above)
I LIVE FOR THE DAY when faith in ourselves will unshackle old beliefs
I LIVE FOR THE DAY belief in The One Spiritual Energy will be redeemed
I LIVE FOR THE DAY that armed conflict against so-called enemies
Is declared pointless and therefore unnecessary will be deemed
I LIVE FOR THE DAY when wizened skin a thing of beauty will be perceived
Our elders revered and adhered
Their words of wisdom respected and believed
I LIVE FOR THE DAY when people will recognise the power of natural curing
And not be influenced by the greedy Pharmaceutical manipulating
I LIVE FOR THE DAY when equality by all will be shared
Power segregation abolished ~ racial discrimination repaired
I LIVE FOR THE DAY when schools will encourage children’s gifts and abilities
Rather than stick to outdated systems that stifles innovation and possibilities
I LIVE FOR THE DAY when Man will adapt to our Earth a more reverent conservation
Our steadfast purpose toward environmental change
And Mother Nature becomes our commitment to her preservation
I LIVE FOR THE DAY …
By Maria Williams
Copyright © Maria Williams
Video arrangement, production, direction
and compilation:
Ron Williams
Video editing, sound mixing, graphics:
Jayne Hartano
(Our very own Lariese.com Art Director)
Voice over:
Kelvin
Music:
Our Future
Composer:
Peder B. Helland
POTW 12th May 2019
Just drop once, when you happen to go by.
A tale they may count, mountains of my country;
Of paradise invaded and forests destroyed,
Of vessels adrift and sailors athirst,
Of savage hunting and extinction of the Dodo.
Witness to history stand mountains of my country;
Bloodshed, war times, hunger and poverty;
Settlers, slaves, coolies or expatriates,
They know all, who defiled in time.
Inert and helpless lay mountains of my country.
Waves of changes struck their homeland.
Forest cried but sweat fell with hope in heart
For making habitation in a newfound land.
Store of knowledge are mountains of my country.
They may tell you of slavery abolished,
Of unification of heart and mind and
The fight for freedom for a respectful life.
Beware, omniscient are mountains of my country
They may tell you of clean or dirty business.
Of unity in diversity or the fumes of hatred
Which burn dark hearts in the sanctity of homes.
Sages are to me, the mountains of my country.
From childhood to youth to parenthood;
Refuge they gave my helpless heart,
Blessed me when crossing overseas,
And were always here to welcome me back.
I love and respect the mountains of my country!
11/07/16
Contest: Mountains
Winner: 1st place.
What a clamour
What a noise
To bring social justice
To answer the cries
That's gone on for centuries
That they keep maintaining
With promises and lies
Black lives matter
So we shout
But who hears the cries
When the establishment do nought
After the cotton fields
Up comes the continuity
In the justice system
When we are gunned down by agents
Who prey on our community
The leaders are aware
But do they really care
When they fail to dismantle
A system , which is so unfair
Slavery maybe abolished
But injustices lingers on
In its many disguises
And the many layers
We face, all day long
Martin Luther made a stand
Bob Marley, sung redemption songs
Freedom fighters raise their rifles
And in the graveyard
Gather the mourning throngs
There is no hope for change
When you maintain a system
That heaps suffering on the wounded
And depravity prolongs
For in the utterings
There is a promise of change
But when it comes to implementation
Not A Stroke
No progress made.
Beneath the cold glare of the desolate night,
They came, greedy and insatiable white creatures,
Cloaked in prim pretense,
Every curve of their features seemed to express a fine arrogant acrimony and harsh truculence.
Expectation darkened into anxiety,
A thousand unutterable fears bore irresistible despotism over our thoughts,
Men, ladies and children collapsed into a dreary and hysterical depression,
Leaving us drowned in the deep reticence of the colonial sea.
As arbitrary as a cyclone and as killing as a pestilence,
With a sweet voice caroling like a gold-caged nightingale,
They looted our abundant resources,
And abolished many of our African customs and traditions.
They enslaved us!
Underdeveloped us!
And reduced us to nothing.
Gleams of sunlight, bewildered like ourselves, struggled, surprised, through the mist and disappeared,
Half choked by a rising paroxysm of rage,
The hollow ring of their fundamental nothingness were defined,
With the blood in our eyes, matchets, bows and arrows and diplomacy,
Then the fight and chase began!
STRUGGLES
WE AS A RACE HAVE HAD OUR STURGGLES AND TESTS
WE’VE COME OUT VICTORIOUS BUT NOT BECAUSE WE ARE THE BEST
IT IS THE LORD WHO SAW US THROUGH THE HARD TIMES
IT IS HE WHO GAVE US CONTROL OF OUR DESTINY IN DUE TIME.
OUR ANCESTORS WERE SOLD OUT BY MEMBERS OF THEIR RACE
SOUNDS FAMILIAR? EVERYDAY THIS TYPE OF THING TAKES PLACE
WE STRUGGLE ENOUGH TO GET AHEAD IN THE WORLD
BUT UNFORTUANTELY, WE HAVE OTHER AFRICAN-AMERICANS
BLOCKING OUR BROTHERS AND SISTERS, OUR BOYS AND OUR GIRLS
SOME OF US TEND TO BLOCK OTHERS OF US FORM REACHING THEIR POTENTIAL
BUT MANY OF US HAVE GOD ON OUR SIDE AND OUR SUCCESS IS EXPONENTIAL
OUR FOREFATHERS HAVE BEEN THROUGH SLAVERY, BEING BEATEN AND POORLY CLOTHED,
HOUSED, AND FED.
SLAVE WOMEN WERE RAPED AND FAMILIES WERE TORN APART
BUT IN THE SOUTH, THERE WAS NOT A LOT SAID
IN 1863 SLAVERY WAS LEGALLY ABOLISHED, BUT THIS ACT WAS NEVER REALLY PUT TO
BED
SOME OF US, OUR PARENTS, AND GRANDPARENTS
FELL VICTIM TO THE LAW OF JIM CROW
WHEN THEY NEED HELP FORM EMERGENCY PERSONNEL
THEY HAD NOWHERE THEY COULD GO.
RACISM STILL EXIST AGAINST US, OTHERS OF COLOR, AND AGAINST OUR IVORY SISTERS
AND BROTHERS
RACISM EXISTS WITHIN THE RACE, WHEN SOME OF US THINK WE ARE SUPERIOR TO
OTHERS
THE LORD HAS BROUGHT THIS RACE THROUGH A LOT
UNLIKE OTHER RACES, WE NEVER SUBJECTED TO GENOCIDE
MANY OF US HAVE TAKEN ADVANTAGE OF OUR FREEDOMS AND BECOME SUCCESSFUL
WHILE OTHERS HAVE FALLEN BY THE WAYSIDE
IT IS WRONG FOR US TO BLAME WHITES OR ANYONE FOR THE SUFFERING OUR RACE WENT
THROUGH
WE SHOULD JUST BE THANKFUL THAT NOW WE HAVE A CHANCE TO GET TO
GOD ALMIGHTY, WE CAN PRAY TO HIM FOR ANYTHING AND ANYONE
AND HE CAN SAVE ANYONE REGARDLESS OF WHAT A PERSON HAS DONE.
WE SHOULD PRAY FOR THE WORLD AS WELL AS OUR FAMILIES AND THE COMMUNITY
BECAUSE WE NEVER KNOW WHEN WE NEED HELP FROM AN OUTSIDE ENTITY.
Faithful companion, Caradog, without necessity
Habitat fed his needs, our bond rapidly developed
Fierce competent hunter amazingly adopted me
Heritage unable to continue, thylacine near relic
Decision to keep him secret was tumult traumatic
Exploited Tiger captured disallowed me to have it
Slender sniff nuzzled friend was a multitude more
Central to my craft's formation, carved wood replica
Tangible muse renews value in sculpting his form
Task of inspiration shed sparks of reaching fire
From my lantern lit table, I intently watched him rise
Stilt like legs stretched, striped yellow rump lifted
Nudged me with gentle nose, wild must be a guise!
Trusting eyes knew domesticity, my heart pilfered
So we walked, accepted man beside marsupial beast
Sharp snout pointed urgently when he detected a meal
Several rats equalled daily quota, Caradog's appease
Showed me hidden nooks, I couldn't figure the appeal
Of providing his secrets, perhaps to dispel theories
Population still existed, a duty he felt was obligatory
Already running in my long local veins, knowledge
Caradog was the final egsample, the last battler
Of a fine Australian species, sadly now abolished
Persistent development trampling their chattels
Option to turn him in to rangers, on my doorstep
Final thylacine female despondent and beyond it
Zoo tourist captivity would instill Caradog torture
Days spent free, ferocious mate bore my fondness
( Last live Thylacine held in Tasmania, 1933 )
* Convincing Thylosene on poems below this,
the prequel to this story
9th August 2020
God knows your end;
Death* comes unannounced...
How will last breath find you?
God offers love...
...Eternal life’s gift
Accept or reject it?
*2Timothy 1:10 But is now made manifest by the appearing of our Saviour Jesus Christ, who hath abolished death, and hath brought life and immortality to light through the gospel.
August 16, 2018
I love all those who are never seen
Either met those or I keen to meet
From rural generous to urban polished
Either created or have been abolished
I love the wonders of this world
The covert nature guards so well
From those having no time to spend
Who will not lift the ocean's shell
I love the existence of the God
I love too who having atheist nature at all
Please, believe me when I say
Everlasting SHIV, heel pain what may
* SHIV (Hindi) = GOD
Composed by :(c) Hariom Sharma, CFA
Source Book : Keep Smiling
E-MAIL : cfahariom@gmail.com
For more poems please search "hariomsharmapoetry" on facebook
where lakh of poetry lover meet daily and scroll the page. Hare Ram.
Inflicted is this society
Of depicted truths to matter
Does it matter
When every life doesn't matter to the same accord
Accordingly, slavery was abolished
To what effect when our minds are currently enslaved
When the only awakening comes from the mourn of graves
Theres so much to be saved, this is known
Every life does matter
Yet the matter has no volume to skin tone
When the only way is the only way
To band together
Ensuring the importance never fades
In creating the trending phase
Of change
Important Phrase!
Black Lives do matter
Our skin far from white
So the minority as a whole must also lather
The will to stand up for this pigmented matter
Black, White, Hispanic
What ever you may be
We are all created in light of a womb
To the luck of a swim up stream
In similarity of the blood we bleed
N the placenta we once did feed
Linked in red
The blood shed of our being
Farewell, then, AUKN boss,
The next this year makes three.
By the time they find a substitute,
Slovenes will be at sea.
He tried to cover his behind;
AUKN boss of bosses,
As every week, balances grew bleak:
He weighed merits and losses.
With all this he'd no time to eat,
And round and round he flew.
And now he's split in a hissy-fit;
So helmsman, too-de-loo!
Day after day, day after day,
He drifted on the ocean;
Guano-vernment rained on his ship
Their suggestions for promotion.
Cousins, cousins, everywhere,
Corporate boards crosslink;
Cousins, cousins, everywhere,
Let's take you for a drink.
Accountants talking rot: O Christ!
Missions, visions - oh please!
Yea, slimy characters need legs
And slimy policies.
So has he done an hellish thing?
Not hired who? We dunno:
Was it absurd, to have a separate curd
From the whey Slovenia owes?
This wretch won't play, after 60 days;
Pissflaps, he'll have to go!
God help ya, gospod Bencina
From the fiends, that plague us thus! -
It's time to go — shot like cross-bow,
The AUKN boss.
Ah! walk-out day! what evil looks
Had I from Ernst and Young!
Who's at a loss? AUKN's boss
Wouldn't take a bung?
"You'll be" quoth one, "abolished - no
Stigma to double-cross."
He chose to go - why? We don't know:
Harmless AUKN boss.
Re-reading the original gave me a great idea for dinner until I realised all the storks have all flapped off to Africa for the winter. Pity, as I have some ancient marinade from Tuš. Like the subject of the poem, I didn't have the stamina for a Coleridge-length effort.
Story: http://www.sloveniatimes.com/total-mess-in-state-owned-capital-asset-management
The National Poet Of Slovenia In A Language People Understand interprets important Slovenian affairs for the non-Slovene speaking world. www.maria.si
~President's Day~
(Rhyming couplet)
Today in the USA we honor two great men
They both did wonderful deeds for our country, Amen.
George Washington, is our founder father,
Lincoln abolished slavery among brother.
These two great men had very good intentions,
They gave their all and meant to relieve tensions.
They both believed in their hearts what was best,
And fought for what was right and passed their test.
In my heart I do really admire these two great men,
They believed in something and acted on that back then.
History praises and sees them as heroes today,
They were great men, and get my respect in every way.
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2010
February.15.2016
What a city I murmur to myself looking at its map.
We approached the city known as Dis,
with its vast army and its burdened citizens.
At last we reached the moats
dug deep around the dismal city.
What destroys the poetry of a city?
Automobiles destroy it,
and they destroy more than the poetry.
Dante and Virgil chased by 7 or 8 dangerous devils
Grumpy, Happy, Sneezy, Sleepy, Dopey . . .
Our heroes reduced from metaphysical philosophers
interested in god and what man has done to man
to improvising primitive tools for survival.
Hope abandoned, we rate our chances of expiring
in the nuclear fire – excellent –
during the decline of western civilization.
On the other hand, I hope
our current problems are only temporary
and it’s just a matter of time before
the public ignores the 24-hour news cycle.
Bad news sells but the good life’s all around us.
One feels love and devotion
even for the 60 million who voted for our opponent.
Vaclav Havel said with a wisdom well beyond brilliance:
“Either we have hope within us or we don’t.
It is a dimension of the soul, and it’s not dependent
on some particular observation of the world or estimate of the situation.
It is an orientation of the spirit, an orientation of the heart
that transcends the world as it’s immediately experienced.
It is not the conviction that something will turn out well,
but the certainty that something makes sense
no matter how it turns out.”
It resembles grief. But it's not quite grief. I'll give you grief.
Certain days planned to be eventful I look forward to for weeks.
Let the peaceful transfer of power proceed. The sorrow and the pity.
Never may the anarchic man find rest at my hearth.
When the laws are kept, how proudly the city stands!
When the laws are broken, what of the city then?
We are moving through some allegory between a City of Hope,
where history has been abolished, and a City of History,
where hope can be slipped in only as contraband.
Failing to achieve understanding, we're searching
outer space for an entity to unite us as humanity.
That person, or city, is consciousness.
Two ancient female poets are a revelation,
the clarity of their complaints: lost lover, lost city.
Our enemy eventually becomes our brother,
his misery lifted by coming to her city.
My BROTHERS --the Cherokee ---you may refer to me as cross-breed-- or not.
As an ancestor ----if it’s your aspiration?
My Grandmother----half Cherokee- half Blackfoot----as the old tales were told.
Citizenship with your sovereignty —till she was three—that I discovered-
with-in her descendants origin.
My Grandmother ---bought off your reservation after your----- relocation.
Bought by my Grandfather a “white-man” -------to the root!!
172 years belated —consider this --a cross-breeds apology--an accolade --to your entire-
nation.
A nation and PEOPLE-- forcibly removed in 1838-----by the U.S. Government.
Hundreds of Cherokee died----- Who Walked the Trail of Tears.
A NATION and PEOPLE-- vehemently abolished in 1838.
By the U.S. Government---with-in President Andrew Jackson’s administration.
Consider this a cross-breeds apology --with a symbol- ----eternally existing.
Of the anguish and affliction on the Trail Where They Cried--- the symbol of the Cherokee-
rose--that still grows------- that still grows!
Consider this a cross-breeds Tribute to Those Who Walked --that Trail --filled with-
Cherokee Tears.
No words can justify-- no expression can advocate --- what Jackson’s administration-
arranged.
No apology, no apology, would seem adequate or tolerable---to ONE human race.
Notably ----your NATIVE RACE!!
Innumerable thousands have spoken their inadequate and intolerable claims.
Knowing only one and only one-- honest, respectful, faithful, and trustworthy vindication-
would have sufficed.
Consider this-- cross-breeds desire for -----Forgiveness.
Forgiveness for any ancestral involvement---in the mass genocide of your civilization.
Healing our nation --from OUR CURSE—must embark from hear—hear at forgiveness.
Forgiveness extended by --OUR CREATOR---to our race and yours.
By : WEM/MEW/EWM
Cambodia, the Khmer Rouge movement, the leader Pol Pot,
Killed twenty-five percent of the population, a fact most people forgot.
To spare you is no profit, to destroy you is no loss,
That was the ideology of the evil boss.
Buddhist monks were killed and religion was banned,
No one was safe with this beast in command.
Children placed in labour camps, civil rights were abolished,
Schools and hospitals shut down, homes were demolished.
People getting shot for wearing glasses, laughing and even crying,
And if you spoke a foreign language you were definitely dying.
Slave labourers dying from overwork, malnutrition and executions,
While the U.K. gave the Khmer Rouge plenty of contributions.
Minority groups were targeted, Thai, Muslims, Christians and Vietnamese,
But they explicitly targeted the ethnic Chinese.
Millions of pounds from the U.K., millions of dollars from the states,
All working together in terror, they were the best of mates.
What Nixon and Kissinger began, Pol Pot completed,
And none of them ever showed remorse for all the people they mistreated.
The art of thought is our lovemaking connection,
histories a ladder to hypnotic healing, corrections uninvited
to our planet of puzzling passion
where a man and a woman make maps with crayons borrowed
from the cries of curiosity's cravings,
uncaring of the unwanted,
lawless in the laps of circumstance's tracks,
Homer & Tacitus imploring their heros to hush
as we warm arteries with a potion of Poetry unknown 'till now,
a tempest of truth she is to me,
teasing with pause & prance, with virtue & volatility,
with the caution of a Queen & frivolity of airborne feathers,
I did not ask for her, nor wish her to squeeze my heart,
regardless, I am now selfish, hunting for her hints
aspiring for the apple of her knowledge,
for the seed of her permission in my pulse,
I need her to sweat for my sweetness,
my will to hide abolished in the heat she spreads in spades,
I love my poet girl,
sometimes I am sorry for it, always excited by it,
sorriness skipping like a song wandering for a world with no wastings,
believing in beauty because she breathes,
I would tell God to wait so that I may play a moment more
with my poet girl, exchange another story, build another belief,
to bring our fears one step closer to nowhere,
to walk our eyelashes one centimeter nearer to completion's tear,
having our harvest support Heaven's uppermost tier -
J.A.B.