Best Communal Poems
Jack frost had paid a call,
The morn was all a-glitter.
Icicles dangled from frozen gutters,
The day was cold and bitter.
Greetings of "good morning "
Came from here and there
As the hardy left their houses,
To face the freezing air.
I heard familiar sounds
Echoing around our street,
Neighbours scraping windscreens
And stamping frozen feet.
Clouds of exhaled breath
Rose up to the sky,
As if ghostly, silent steam trains
Were slowly drifting by.
The sound of engines running,
As people warmed their cars.
It was the communal defrost,
Beneath early morning stars.
The Malay Pantun: The Non-Party Communal Triumvirate
Ursidae carnivora hug and hibernate
Hypolais polyglottes trill without triumph
Alliance Party* wins and vituperate
Opposition parties coagulate without lymph
• The ruling Malaysian communal triumvirate –
since Independence in 1957.
© T. Wignesan, Paris - 2013
Someone can advise you
To be friend of big rich people
To be also rich in the future.
I am telling you to be best friend
Of majority poor as
They need your aid
to destroy the system which enrich
Few people and
kill millions of poor people.
Poors of the world always fight each others
For the interests of the minority big rich people.
Who captured
the World
Do yourself investigations to find
out the main problems of this World.
Take me to a place where I belong
Where I can be free and recite my song
Where mountains kneel with valleys down to pray
The trees and flowers swing and sway
With vibrant colors, bold as silk-screened batik
Aromas abound that laugh and speak
Take me to that place where I can stay
To hear children laughing when they come to play
Where people join hands to celebrate
Communal spirit and contemplate
Take me there and let me be
A celestial being living in harmony
Brothers and sisters I hear your voice
Your words beckon me I’ve made my choice
I’ve now found the place I call home
Where Love Peace and Unity reside under Your dome.
Jan.28.2016 (referring to poetry soup)
Owned by all
Yet trusted to one
For the benefit of all
Why then so scraggy
Like a road side beggar
Has he failed to make you baggy?
Because he hated our interest
Isn’t our motherland the trustee
Our birthright the interest
The kids he keeps selfishly
Thinking we were all blind
To see the specie all around
You are breaching our trust
Do not make us distrust
the soul perfected in originality
strengthened by divinity
of a new born baby
whose first cry
came with full might
from the window of a dark room.
the same soul, years after
darkened
by glare of worldly matters
akin to an avidful pursuit
of a rat in an alley,
rested on the pale faces
being snatched of humanity
it was the mosaic of
these dark souls
that showed
human’s wicked weapon
blunt and rusted for years
sharpened yet again
for political measures.
Narinder
Set out in an upper room,
passover made new;
tender slowly cooked lamb stew,
wine,unleavened bread
with thanksgiving said-
A hymn of
Praise !
We revel 75 years of Independence,
from colossal colonial rule
it was unanimous struggle
that helped us get through.
Entitled to rejoice this liberty,
but the conundrum is, Are we truly free?
Haven, ma chez
I listen
to my invisible guest
I do not speak, but wait,
then it slips away
leaving a tragic face.
I recollect merry mo;
Us: Pythias and Damon,
till he fell ill to eclipse of human reason.
Thou art still in shackles
if bound by civil perils:
ostracism, vandalism, arson
Bias and prejudice.
Had we raised voice,
his people wouldn’t have to suffer a great deal today.
Authority sits by,
Leisurely watching ruckus nearby.
All in noisy silence
Suffering place and time.
Give me all that you want for yourself,
I seemed to say it to all and all times,
they seemed to say about the same to me,
where do we go from here,
Is it really a zero sum game,
Land is there enough for all,
If I have ahouse villa mile long,
and you have a rat hole,
probably not,
water is it again there for all,
some bathe in champagne,
and others in mosquito larvae infested drains,
there seems to be shortage,
some breathe green touched air freeing flow,
others take in a mix from adozen chimneys and factories,
same holds for all that we created,
against the price tags,
we all seem to hanker for more,
what is that link,
which glues us to matter,
so that nothing comes latter,
I am confused,
its allright somethings I want,
and you do not,
but most fundamentally we are competititors,
is there no way out,
for robust communal coexistence,
find a way,
and let me know,
because then I wanna let everyone know.
Communal Holiday.
The holiday home for children
was near a cold lake
flanked by two black mountains
We children swam there
every morning at seven
before the sun warmed the lake.
Breakfast at eight, mainly oatmeal porridge
and stale bread.
Boot camp for children.
Three weeks of this then we were let loose
to roam a town of summer dust
and trees in the park we could climb up
to get away from adults
who had forgotten their own childhood.
If anyone reads this, feel free to add to the monorhyme. leave a comment with your one additional line, that should keep it in order I think?
Just meant to be fun if anyone feels like it, let's start with....
IT STARTED AS A HOAX, UNTIL HE SAW A REAL GHOST
We were from all directions, most had brought a mother
Tribes of all colors, our languages were odd to each other
By motioning to a giant pot, we figured out what to do.
We each dumped our offering into the stew.
Some brought wisdom along with carrots and potatoes.
One brought sarcasm, thrown in with beef and tomatoes.
We did not speak a common language, but drew pictures on cave wall.
We danced around the bonfire, and laughed at nothing at all.
Smiling and nodding was our main way to communicate,
As we greeted other tribes; our spirituality felt quite great.
We had never had such a feast, this stew did so much good.
It had unity, hope and love, all the things a great stew should.
I watched greens in the way of celery get stirred into this warm stew.
We were feeling a unity uncommon under this September sky of blue.
The children were using rocks to carve their daddy’s feats on the wall.
We cuddled with our kin and slept very well that day last fall.
The seasonings, the spices, the warm feelings in our tummies!
We enjoyed each other’s company, for none of us were dummies.
The bread we had was unique; I had never tasted anything that rich.
It was made from a powerful wheat that grew along the country ditch.
It tasted rather sweet, as we dipped it in and out of our soup.
I never forgot this evening, a night we all began to regroup.
Share with me,
if you could become so kind,
Which of all your lifetime actions
was not also a reaction?
Which thought
not also a polyphonic feeling
rethought
and stored in memory
across countless regenerations?
Share with me
if you would
and could
and should,
Which of your responses
feels more original
and healthy
and organic
and sacred,
and intimate,
naturally communicated
and spiritually experienced
passion.
Share with us,
if we could become communioned,
all our actions verbal and non-verbal,
rational and not irrational,
all our acquisitional quantity intentions
not not qualitative
win/win co-investing intent,
exponentially left dominant
yet incrementally right prominent,
revolutionary communal strength
and evolutionary tribal wisdom.
Share with me
if we could become communacting,
co-munerative unfractioned,
co-numeratively re-actioned
To share with future,
as past EarthTribe patriotic actors
symbolic
iconic capital dipolar valued
originally in cooperatively developed
left/right heading heads.
To share with me,
if time could become so mindful,
co-passioning ego/eco-metric activities
Earth double-bound geometric civilities
binomial
bilateral
bicameral,
If distancing left would be so kind
to intimately share with ElderRight sacred me,
Why absence of communication
is not neutral
for those who notice,
and those who miss,
and those who are glad of change
and those who also are sad
without healthy co-action
and polypathic
polyphonic resilient re-action,
pre-investment toward communion,
harmonic karma,
resonant grace,
co-passion,
resilient love,
To share with me,
if you could become so loved lover,
Which of all your lifetime actions
was not also egocentering
eco-passioning co-reaction,
creation,
recreation,
To share with us.
A mob gathered in a flash
Chanting God's name
They lynched one dead
Suspected of eating beef
A mob gathered in a flash
Swinging in bigoted fervor
They hung two by a tree.
Accused of smuggling cows
A mob gathered in a flash
Swords flashing in hands
They slashed one beyond shape
Alleged of loving upper caste
Violence ,mahyem goes on
Common men silent onlookers
castrated beyond redemption
India, my country , awake !!!
Welcome to our friendly communal soup bowl.
Makes our neighborhood noteworthy and whole.
If you have no offering, sit down to our shared stew.
Your children are welcome. We’ll play with them too.
Many have brought carrots, onions, broth and meat.
We do not care your politics or religions, please take a seat.
Our communal soup bowl unites strangers in a delightful way.
Come by to see us if you can at the end of your day.