Best Advises Poems
THUG LIFE
cold heart and mind,
drugs are lunch and supper,
prostitutes are friend and wives,
smoking is the daily work,
wanna be Hitler is the dream,
clotting blood is the appearance of the, body.
Never touched by a loving body since birth,
hunting and struggling is the game,
SOS is the code of life,
sinner inside and out,
happiness is not a disease,
under world is the final residence,
Unknown in the society,
no friends needed for advises,
loneliness is the habit,
police and jail are real friends,
revenge is the thirsty,
Happiness was a wish and desire,
sweet life was a dream and want,
friends and relatives was a basic need,
entrepreneur was a future contract,
but life changed into the thug one.
“The Sacrificial Burn”, a very short story of a pyromaniac, who loved the Light too much.
A writer’s journey. Perhaps it’s about life. Perhaps it’s about death. Perhaps it’s about the end of the world and wanting to take back time again. Perhaps it’s about ghosts. Perhaps it’s about becoming a ghost. Perhaps, as another writer friend of mine advises, it’s up to the reader to interpret for themselves relating the story to themselves. If it doesn’t, then the writing unlike ectoplasm doesn’t stick. Perhaps poetry is just the biggest mind f*** of all, like love, an addiction, that gives great pleasure and the most immense pain and one just has to walk through the walls cutting up their words each time they pass through, like some grand reincarnation. Some ghosts are eternal, remembered, some fade forever and are forgotten. The worst ghosts are best forgotten or jailed up in a Dybbuk box, not to be thrown into the deepest ocean, not to be buried, but to be burned. The sacrificial burn with a few incantations, a bit like poetry. A flaming pyre of poésies sent off in its boat with the ferryman across Styx. Of course, all this is done with Love biting its tale.
(LadyLabyrinth/2023)
“You arrive, now that I must leave
I'll take one step out of the nice dream
Into, something unknown, something unkind
Somewhere so quiet, gone from your side
Send me to lie here
Forever unseen”
“Why, why would you leave here
Right when I need you
No, I can't see you
Out in the open
Out in the darkness
Here where I knew you
Here in my heart
And on somewhere unseen
The distance is killing me
The distance between
I'm taking the water, taking on time
Does it ever leave
Does it ever leave
Taking on the water, taking on time
Does it ever sleep
Does it sleep at all…”
(excerpts, “The Distance, Emma Ruth Rundle)
It took me awhile to comprehend
the true significance of "be patient."
We've heard it all before,
but it's funny how we often fail
to cogitate over this phrase
and feel it's ponderous weight.
One who says it to you means well,
not playing the pontificating fool,
but hanging a priceless jewel
over your head so you wear
the advice like a necklace.
So please listen to whomever
advises you to "be patient."
It's arguably the two most
important words you could ever hear.
It'd take me a mighty long day
to list all that I've learned
from this simple phrase.
It's common sense, stripped naked,
made to dance in a cold rain.
Yes, my friend, be patient,
when wading back into
the murky creek of love and romance.
Be patient as you chase
your rainbow. Don't move too fast!
You'll get to that pot of gold.
Do not be discouraged.
Be patient when on life's highway
lest you crash! Good things
come to those who wait.
Date written: 01/17/2021
He has a sense of humour,
That’s second to none,
Anything for a laugh,
He’s so much fun.
He proof reads our poetry,
He sometimes gets it incorrect,
When he advises us,
He does it with respect.
He’s kind and caring,
He truly is quite sweet,
Getting to know him,
Is the sweetest treat.
He knows the difference,
Between “You’re and Your”,
However, I get the feeling,
He’s got it wrong before.
He may on occasion,
Allow his pen to run dry,
That’s enough,
To make a poet cry.
There’s one last thing to say,
Before I finish,
I hope his wit and humour,
Never do diminish.
I Got Her
motherhood is fraught with mistakes
hanging from her charm bracelet
hourglass wrist; anchor was hooked
she’s silent as I longed for her to erupt
I needed her warm ear, not judgment
one thing I did wrong; not the worst
much later she stabbed me with her kiss
those lips left a saturated wound; grab chest
I was brave; I handed her the tray of hurt
oh how quickly, blinking tears, she apologized
I hang that memory on my high school bracelet
I tuck it away to reuse when I ostracize progeny
air punches like exhales, soft hands, soft heart
must lay out my cards - she was better than the rest
some moms are rabid, some too friendly
I found my mom just right; her sayings wrong
she advises me, “There’s more fish in the boat.”
I lay down the ace, “Yes, Mom, and they’re all dead.”
she’d fall upstairs, get blood poisoning, eventually cancer,
loved her soaps, got news from the tabloids - I got her!
Twilight downs the sun as dreams appear on the screen of sleep
Slips into the subconscious realm and trips a few fuses in slumber
Adapts and clears clutter and narrates and alters the story in kind
Strips and clips a mind full of sentience like an ad-blocking app
When dreams slip into a magical edition it proofreads my soul
In magic Morpheus tenders to soft renditions and rehearses
A new dawn for sanity’s sake and rearranges bedlam in silence
Ties new meaning to fake news and spins alignments afresh
Compounds and rearranges while the curtain slowly descends
A dress rehearsal in night gown patiently waits for the curtain
A sacred orange globe dances with ripples dissected by clouds
Ultramarine parades on the fading horizon of tangerine canvas
As the gatekeeper confers with clairvoyants and hobbling goblins
The mermaids charter the voyage with sea gulls and dolphin as they
Tie holy knots onto the tapestry of fabrication and spirited truths
Sometimes my aspirations and recollections call for clean slates
When charcoal rules anthracite waves draped in sombre veils
Or polychrome splashes beg to hold on to the palette forever
Sleep brushes over karma and vagaries and tames with a stroke
Of restful fortune in infinite renditions of what the future might hold
A life line appears on the horizon anchoring a courageous flare
Regardless of whether my journey explores a secret underworld
Or ships critique onto the blatantly obvious faults in the vessel
Poseidon pumps up the raft as tears and regrets rock the boat
Blows caution to the wind and advises to hold on for dear life
Neptune challenges his counterpart and weighs for good measure
Yet Atlantis refuses to sink and Nirvana sweeps the ocean’s floor
Phoenix gathers soaked ashes while jetsam jumps into the current
When the night parades its blessing the sun resets a new dawn
The moon watches over assorted memories baggage and hope
19th April 2020
Thousands of covid-19 infected patients die everyday
Dangerous the virus I believe it just on hearing way
Where are the dead bodies? Where are their families?
I do not know actually; who tell me about these please
We know thousands of peoples die everyday overall the world usually
It's easy if imperialist politicians count some from them in this covid-19 rally
I'm not the investigator, not I'm the charity provider
Yet wanna know- comes from where the pandemic server?
Someone replies me it's a curse for sinner from the creator God
Someone advises- it's natural plague, over it do not think a lot
As a theist I believe God creates everything only for beautifying
I disbelieve that God destroys His creations for own angry appeasing
Conscience is the true power of knowledge; if we had conscience
Excess thinking would be fruitful in our inter relationship about worldly sense
It's our world, come, leave the myth of religion, try to save it as God's beauty
Save all with the nature, spread humanity with love killing political hypocrisy
29.03.2020 Chattogram
A mother's advice
When you get up
make your bed
straighten your bedroom
if someone comes in
it will be clean and straight
Old age advices
Just get up
Provided you're able
Or
Sleep in the recliner
A mother's advice
Make a full breakfast
Homemade biscuits
Bacon, eggs
To be well fed
Old age advises.
Simple will do
Go out or
A sandwich or two
I AM AFRICA
I am a mother not a murderer
Patronage of numerous natural resources
Filled with beautiful creatures are my tropical
My heritage, adorned with glorious cultures
In the forest of the night I form
Seeds of great black minds
I am a mother of many gold medalists
Guardian of prolific writers
My sons and daughters are recognized through the ink of their intelligence
I am the virgin land of habitats and wild life
I am who I am
I am the great mother Africa
Fifty-four nations have me
Enriching with tribes and traditions
So favored by nature I boast
That my foes demands my departure
Tears of regrets I now shed
For my seeds have dispatched and torn me apart
Where abides my seeds I seek
The ocean of Democracy I adopted
Now lies astray with confusion as its mat
A dirge I present to you Democracy
Is my own world a different universe
Depressed I am in this silent captivity
Savoriness present in the face
But sadness, my daily food
Hope still stands in the future I believe
Admiring the consequences of the present
My aura shall once again romance
what have been laid bare
The milk of my breast is still breathing
Come and suck with caring honesty
My Philosophy of Neo-welfarism by Zik of Africa
Seeks to harmonize ideologies
Leopold Senghor of Senegal appeared with his Negritude
To rediscover and awaken our culture
Kwame Nkwuruma still lives
Through his Philosophical Consciencism which opposed capitalism
The great Ujama principle of Julius Nyerere of Tanzania
Continues to rule
I still have Achebe; who still advises from the depths
Adiche and Wole are still living legends
I sleep in silence in pure delight
As the brown dust turns to green
As daylight breaks and jet sky turns to blue
I wake up refreshed of glorious dreams
O! My great seeds; Never let me exist outside existence
a portrait is a picture or a likeness of an object, person or place
a rendering, a representation of something in all of its grace
but a portrait of a Pastor is more than just a facade
it's not an image of what man thinks but a reflection of God
people come with their own agendas about what a Pastor should portray
but it's not his clothes nor his cars it's the message from God he conveys
a Pastor should be pictured as a faithful speaker who reveals the truth in his speech
an under shephard of our Lord Christ and it's the Gospel that he'll preach
a Pastor should be drawn as a mentor to his members and circumspect in his behavior
a prayer partner in conjunction with the Holy Spirit and Jesus our Savior
a Pastor should be an image of one who comforts all in their times of need
a teacher of the Gospel who in his flock tries to plant God's righteous seeds
a delineation of an obedient servant leader who stands firmly on God's Holy word
and he should not be the subject of gossip nor the pettiness of this world
a portrait of a Pastor should be a comment on his spiritual calling
an anointed man whom God will use to catch us when we've fallen
a portrait of a Pastor should be an exhibit of compassion, wisdom and respect
a display of leadership, kindness, humility and intellect
it should be a picture of a potter who tries to mold us into godly shape
a silhouette of a counselor who doesn't judge but advises when we make mistakes
a portrait of a Pastor should be a reflection of the image of our Lord Christ
a man who will always allow the Holy Spirit of God guide and rule his life
over 50's; when a bed stops you to support sleep longer.
when your body stops you to eat stronger,
when medications stop you to drink alcohol,
when Dr. advises you to stop smoking if you live longer,
you know the time when value becomes a tease monger.
Yes modernization is here
Islamic rules have made it clear
Pick up a small stick
And beat her to the wick
Make her understand
Obey your command
Pakistan is the modern land
Live like a man and beat at command
Only though because you care
To make her subservient and thus obey
She must follow your Islamic commands
And bend over for perverted desires in your satanic land
Now death to Israel
For they have committed the crime
Of being modern in un-modern times
As they saved the wounded of Syrians blood
They embrace humanity
Pakistan grabs a small stick
And strikes fear in the sexes
My god is there no common senses?
Notes: This is not to condone or condemn any Country. Merely to show how at times biases take things way out of context. At times the world decries one death, as in humane as next door hundreds of thousands take place under the silent ones of oppression.
Secondly this is specifically about The Council of Islamic Ideology a powerful constitutional body that advises the Pakistani legislature whether laws are in line with the teachings of Islam. There interpretation is of course ludicrous and I am well aware true Muslim worshipers would never follow such violent and antiquated teachings.
This came about from the CNN article http://www.cnn.com/2016/05/28/asia/pakistan-women-light-beating/index.html on the topic. On weekends I often partake in discussions at a Middle Eastern coffee shop, people from all over the middle east, where we have lively discussions. So it’s of note that this poem was the summary and views of the Muslim mates are I was sharing tea with.
Of note, many of them in their own countries could never voice any dissenting views without being tortured or killed.
Yoga, a Sanskrit word, an abstract noun meaning oneness
It points to the meeting of soul and the Absolute or Godhood
To attain this oneness one has to go through eight stages.
Five kinds of mental anguish associated with ignorance
Ego, attachment, hatred, and fear of death to be discarded
The way is to practice yoga and total renunciation.
Renunciation is to do away with all thoughts and desires
That arises out of direct perception or indirect knowledge
The practice to perfect renunciation is Ashtanga Yoga
There are eight stages of this Ashtanga Yoga of Patanjali
Yama-moral codes of behavior, Niyama- self-restraint
Asana-physical postures, Pranayam-breathe control.
Pratyahara-sense control, Dharana-concentration
Dhyana-meditation, Samadhi-absorb in thought-free trance.
To attain final *Samadhi, the Sage Patanjali advises God’s help.
If one overlooks the first two stages of Yama and Niyama
It is a wonderful exercise of the body and the mind
Hope for the heaven but at least you will reach the clouds
***********
Dr. Ram Mehta
Contest Epic by P.D.
6th place win in the contest
========================================
**Yog kchhamam Vahamyaham- the Sanskrit phrase meaning I carry the Yoga safely
which is the sum-total of the Yog in Hindu Scriptures
The word yoga is derived from the Sanskrit for "plow," which is also the source for the
word "yoke" -- which joins the oxen and the plow. From the spiritual point of view, yoga
means "union with God."
*Complete absorption in thought-free trance
When I was walking my tiger home
I wondered why I was all alone
How all the neighbours did stare
At us out in the fresh air
But I couldn’t leave tiger to roam
Tiger’s quite a large ‘pussy cat’
With black stripes that make him look fat
He attracts quite a crowd
With his roar being loud
It’s no wonder we get stared at
Tiger recently lived in a zoo
Looking sad in his cage painted blue
I obtained the door key
Tiger now lives with me
He’s great pals with my pet kangaroo
Tiger loves to eat lots of meat
He’ll paw at me with his huge feet
Then he’ll sit next to me
When we watch the TV
We share popcorn as a nice treat
Friends no longer come visit my house
But tiger wouldn’t hurt a small mouse
People always are wary
Of my pet who looks scary
(They are lucky they’ve not met my spouse!)
I’m reading an excellent tiger tome
It advises feeding him honeycomb
He now looks quite divine
You can see his coat shine
When you see me walking my tiger home
Walking my Tiger Home contest sponsored by David Lindsay
07~23~16
You are my shadow in my weakest days
Giving me light in my darkness way
Sheltering me from harmful pains
Thereby listening to my untold story
Through this optical lines we communicate
Distance never appeared as an obstacle
Witnessing our secrets talks
Mediating two souls to be one
Behind those words and advises
Like chocolate kisses so tender and sweet
You lighten my burden spirit
Took away my fears
Friend as we often called each other
I could never imagine it could be more than this
Being there could be more for me…
To have your Love isn’t great enough?
Once a upon time there was a friend called “YOU”
Now my fairy tales of Love do come true….
Wish upon a star forever “Me and You”
And we shall live happily ever after….
@lemp3082008