Best Beneficence Poems
Reverence heard, a compassionate sound of solemn word,
Resounds mercy of utmost goodwill, aura-divine spurred,
Performing deeds of beneficence, defying malevolence;
An epistle of angels on earth conferring gift of benevolence.
Such holy angels dwelling among us, are gems quite rare,
Purity of their actions proclaim~ how genuinely they care,
For the destitute, the hapless, caught in throes of despair,
Proffering words of prayer, pleading for hope and welfare.
Messengers of peace, hallowed in zeal of virtuous intention,
Supernal is their magnificence, never yearning attention,
Humble in service to others, dedicated to their missions,
Guiding through life’s hurdles, fulfilling human ambitions.
Inner harmony echoes from voice of their altruistic soul,
Righteous are such missives, sentiments endearing cajole,
Rejecting pessimism of fate in bold pursuit of virtuous goal,
Of kindness, of amity and love, teachings spiritual extol.
Featherless angels, mortals alike us, yet they live on and on,
Worshipped for their pious acts, long after they are gone,
For legacies of ideals devout, profound passions of heart,
For reassurance, inspiration of life, memories now impart.
Unassailable purity, a cognition divine of venerated mind,
Proffers promise inviolable, beneficence sacred aligned,
With force invincible emanating from goodwill of heart
Forming precepts impeccable, teachings benevolent impart.
Purity of thought and action~ a worthy and righteous goal,
Resounds indomitable from kindred voice of resolute soul;
A heavenly call of compassion, extolling sanctity of love,
Lifting tenor of gloomy dawns~ soothing refrains of dove.
Unassailable purity in life, a road map of directions to hope,
Sacrosanct are its valiant acts, vowing ceaselessly to cope,
Performing with mighty resolve, deeds inducing pride;
Serving humbly as invisible hand of irreproachable guide.
Assisting destitute is the sermon, tolling bells of prayer,
Beckoning the weary, indigent, to shelter and welfare;
Comforting grief of despair with words enlightened, aware,
Consoling cry of nothingness, bequeathing love and care.
It exemplifies within her selfless smile, purity of her eyes,
Reassuring her children, bliss of mother’s love never dies;
Its rectitude unassailable, eternal as the reign of time,
A gift precious, paramount to life~ ethereal and sublime.
Beside Every Iridescent Node Grows
Beauty, Eyeing, Instigating, Nodding Gracefully.
Bounty Energizes Inundating Nascent Growth.
Brilliant Emerald Ignites Newborn Grains.
Bathers Each In Nuance Gather.
Beyond Eternity, Infinite Night Gropes.
Beside Emerging Isotopes Nonchalantly Grasping
Bottle-necked Entities In Nature’s Great
Beneficence Engages Ideology's Non-sequitur
Givers.
Bare endings. Idols Neglected Gape.
Basking Ecclesiastic Idiosyncrasies Nascent Glow.
Because Each Idol Names Great
Beauty. Effigies, Itinerant Namesakes, Grin.
Beside Each, I Narcissus' Grow.
being being being being being being being
First Published in Femmewise Cat
It's mid-summer again with its mild and moist morning,
Soon whisked away by the mid-day sizzling breeze.
The gorgeous wildflower drinks of the sun's offering,
While butterflies sip of the lily blossom's wine on the lees.
Mid-summer is a time when love beads of rain cool the air;
The gentle beat of its falling seem a song of beneficence.
Then using the rainbow with his incomparable epic flair,
The Great Poet punctuates this grand verse with elegance.
As the birds are resting from their morning serenade,
They now allow the cricket its course at center stage.
The songbirds are cooling their throats in the shade,
Letting the hot sun with its prickling heat fiercely rage.
As the summer sun begins to appear as sweet red lips,
Like a dessert of refreshing sugared berries before me.
The evening breeze cools and my brow no longer drips,
As my eyes grow heavy and I dream of the new day to be.
It's all good like they say in the hood
And we will overcome if we don't play dumb
Lookin' to extend the dream of equality
Hopin' for a life with a little frivolity.
We gotta' hold the mothers to their promise of beneficence
And not keep claiming this lie of innocence
Bleedin' heart libral thinks he done sump'n philanthropic
While he knows in his gut he, too, has been so sadistic.
Guilt has but a fleeting recognition
And pity don't pay for slavery's abolition.
You the omnipotent and Merciful For All,
O my Lord !All power belongs to You,
Whether who is Muslim or infidel doesn’t matter,
Your blessings are uncountable through,
Rainfall or waterfall cold breeze to warm,
Mountain to land , Sea or the endless sand,
Heat or Cold ,everything we hold,
The measure of everything in your hand,
Whom You will grant, Woe or pleasure ,respect or contempt,
Life and Death, wealth and poverty,
Your dignity and beneficence cover the whole world,
Though the vast eternal is your Sovereignty ,
Mitigate the burden of crimes, Supplicate for forgiveness,
We are your sinful creature, pardon us clemently,
Rogation for real success, show us the right way,
As You listen to those who don’t have tongue and they utter silently!!!
M. Shahid H. Chouhdry
Bahawalpur, Pakistan
All Rights Reserved.
[email protected]
They pledged their lives, their fortunes
And their sacred honor.
With courage born of God and love
Of freedom, they stood against
The evil of the day. Nor would their lives
Have been preserved had they failed in their cause.
Today we cower in our comfort zones
Afraid to disobey the unjust laws,
The mandates of corrupted men
Who will control, who grasp for power,
Who deny they are the servants and
Betray the unearned trust of those they’ve fooled.
Where will we find the patriots of today,
Those who treasure freedom over life,
Who stand apart from unearned beneficence,
Who aren’t afraid to say, “I built this,
I own my own rewards and I reject
The socialist fraud of government.”
We the People hold our Freedom
In our hands. No secret patriots will arise
To re-declare the Independence sacrificed
To welfare gods or to Big Brother’s lies.
If we seek fortune over honor, Liberty will not be saved.
The Founders bones raise dust clouds in the grave.
Mirage of Love
by Odin Roark
So many have perished
Struggling against infatuated tail winds,
The warning sands of drifted reality,
Making waste the perilous effort.
An innocent’s once unclouded vision
Becomes overcast, making the heart seek further,
Not knowing the quenching of thirst unreachable
Amidst the storm of a choking delusion.
Yet…
How persistent desire’s seduction,
This passion of will longing to drink of love’s elixir,
Unaware love requires not object
But pure awareness,
The beneficence of being in a state of love.
Some find…
Above the hot breath of passion
Resides the calm of rendezvous,
Where connection to the rapture,
Waits patiently for the traveler.
Still…
How tremulous the venture,
This seeking of libidinous reward,
This misadventure across the deserts of beauty,
Whose demands make waste the misinformed.
Such a map to consider.
Such a compass to contemplate
Such a reward only patience can deliver.
And still…
Thirst is a given.
oh to live a life
beneath your full potential
to know there is so much more
you could have done
said
more that you could have bled
to give others life
oh, the inner strife
mediocrity does not bode well
it's a living, burning hell
to know there is the sublime
yet you're running out of time
the years jeer
that inner fear
that time will not last
you'll be part of the past
and yet
what will live on
when you are gone?
that inner cosmos
of whirling ideas
the planetary magnitude of thoughts
becoming black holes of disappointment
sucking into the void
all that you could have become
if I could tap inside
find the words to make life
ex nihilo syndrome overcome
there is always something
we were born with it
the ability to create
but for many it lies dormant
stagnates
and their names are not remembered
not I
while I breathe
I try
to bring to life
the wonder of wisdom
the beneficence of beauty
the longevity of love
the pleasure of passion
the care of compassion
the perfection of peace
the sweetness of serenity
let it be...
all these and more
are there in my heart, in store
this medium is mine
poetry...the rhyme
set to my heart beat
rhythmic reality
words to whet the appetite
to move
to shock
to invigorate
to satiate
to medicate
to alleviate
to liberate
to enlighten
to brighten
to instill
the will to laugh, to love, and to....live
while this heart beats
while this soul breathes
while the mind can yet think
the quest goes on
to express
the wonder
that lies
within
Eileen Manassian
With the brave nerve and poetic verve,
I have viewed martyr place in a daydream,
Almighty allocate, there righteous soul thereafter life,
Marvelous, awesome, splendid paradise it Seem,
Bowing trees of olive, flowing torrents of milk and honey,
Hanging fruits trickling nectar, Queuing castles in row,
No melancholy, pain and beavering away is there,
Take back the reward of deeds that they sow,
Pleased moments, precious time spent in the rogation of Almighty,
Observed happy, contented and joyful faces of all who martyr,
Almighty ennoble them from the rest of world,
We can’t imagine, the honor given to them so higher,
The beneficence of Almighty so vast and measureless,
Encompass the whole world from above to beneath,
He will revivify new life to them after death,
They become the twinkling star on cloud nine zenith.
Shahid Hussain Chouhdry
Nothing supersedes health maintenance;
Thus, the evolution of instinctive defiance --
Save for man and his brainy protuberance,
Which clouds the r-complex beneficence
With infinite, self-centered arrogance, meanwhile,
Nothing supersedes health maintenance.
Dino-birds navigate with magnetic reliance,
And sickness is fought without aid, in silence --
Save for man and his brainy protuberance.
Detached from colonies of microbial sentience,
Oblivious as we consume and covet experience,
Nothing supersedes health maintenance.
Where six-legged ancients toil with exuberance,
Even cub-killing toms can't escape consequence --
Save for man and his brainy protuberance.
While parasites devour with horrific preponderance,
Why must we mimic their cold appliance; knowing,
Nothing supersedes health maintenance --
Save for man and his brainy protuberance.
One who has died for
his motherland,
Is suppose to live
zestly in Eden land,
For what he did and
finally got,
They are not dead,
alive at best a lot,
And to His
(Almighty) mercy and
beneficence,
Who has bestowed him
with this
magnificence,
And lo, at grave
what he still
yearns,
To go back and fight
again and again to
earn,
A splendid and
gorgeous wreath of
success,
For what he had done
and finally possess,
One who has died for
his country so,
It's become the
place of harmonious
grow,
Almighty endow this
particular status,
As Martyrdom is not
a wish of gratis,
Don’t call them gone
and dead,
They all are our
assets, who lead,
And defend this
country land to
best,
And face sprinkling
bullets at their
chest,
So shahid utter
utmost sighs and
suspiration,
For all martyrs, as
they are the source
of inspiration.
Shahid Hussain
Chouhdry
Strange--the journey set upon,
for I have never traveled
seeking just to close in finally
on home. I would see it only
as an inference laid bare
as I would strip away each incident
that stained it, cover it with
physicality, expose it to
the mothering of earth and sky
and finally betray it with a
death or life, which to be valid
must include each other.
And that is just beginning.
Intangibles are stubborn beasts,
and where was I? I could no longer
wrap myself in second-hand opinions,
assumed cachet, or
the wisdom of my peers. Time
and its attendant rite
already hastened those along.
But consciousness is in control.
Its mentor is the sun,
I, its pale moon with no light
of its own, its surface shallow,
with serenity I do not feel.
One alone with quiet thought
finds time's reward draws closer still.
Who am I?
An imposter, I may well conclude
and in a breath, a thief,
albeit lavish in beneficence,
who stole another's air.
~
Bereft of vim, in copses branches bow
by winter's whims cursed to exsanguinate.
As far as naked gazes would allow
we marveled at Earth's crimson-spattered pate.
Cold skin met woolen mitten as we sought
the wealth of Christmas spirit to convey.
A horde of hands and hearts in darkness fought
'til desolation's troops beleaguered lay.
A tincture, scarlet faces did proceed
Accompanied by streams of jolly tunes
To soothe encumbered souls and vanquish need,
A surrogate for Nature's frozen boons.
Beneficence twixt folk in times unkind:
I've found this "Christmas" thusly best defined.
[for contest: ring size= 7, favorite color= red]
Life is a fair trade wherein all adjust itself in time,
for all one takes the price comes in currencies not known as dime.
The warden of the prison is in a worse position then the prisoner himself,
while the prisoners mind is free; the mind of the warden is in prison itself.
Happiness is found with does of compassion,
in misery are the ones who expect from others the ration.
What science cannot declare, art can suggest by imagination,
what poetry can speak aloud and fails to explain is frustration.
Those who appeal with intellect attract the human brain,
the one who penetrates the spirit is a prophet with a souls so sane.
The body of love creates plural reciprocities,
from the heart of love come beneficence;
but from the soul of love is born renunciation virtuosity.
The path of freedom leads to the goal of capacity,
while only the path of discipline creates liberty.
The fear of the unknown is the greatest,
fragments of feelings and not the souls natives.
The world as intricate dream has its divine complexity,
to be reawaken by many more kisses as destiny.
Annihilation and its traces go forward to receive,
the answer to every question is the belief.
The only thing that is made throughout life,
is one’s own nature as subtle inheritance strive.
Echoes from many lives by season conscience,
truth that find itself in the loving heart performance.