Best Custodians Poems


Premium Member Art and Ownership

People buy pictures
They have a notion
That they are owners
But actually
The pictures own them. 
They will outlive
Or outlast them
They are only
Custodians.
They purchase
Pyramid,
Art will live.
And they...
Pharaohs:
Dead.

        +++++++++
Date 2-28-14
Motif : Epic
Dr. Ram Mehta
First Place win
Contest: Impress Me with short poems II by Giorgio

Premium Member At the Edge

White wakes trail festive party boats
Beach dweller eyes with envy
     Lonely cactus on desert sand
          Not even parasites invade
               Needles repel everything, everyone

Never to exchange vows
Give birth, spoil grandchildren
Tossing in her king-size bed for endless nights
     No king
          Eternity in a cocoon
               Years pass, hopes dim

Friends complain
Messy husbands, custody battles
No custodians seek empty hearts
     She beckons the sun to set
          Prays to reach heaven’s gate
               ‘Fore it rises again

Enduring dread
Puffs of smoke from burnt-out life
Circle in her dimly-lit room, then dissipate
     No last will or legacy bestowed
          Memories of her life
                    Rest only in souls who have passed

Too Young To Die

As the wind continue to sway,
We hurt from the inside but the outside can't lay.
Where there is a will there is a way,
But writing a will is a perspective for it seems as the day
Where to each other we have to bid goodbye in a tough say 
For we stand too young to die.

When we sight darkness at the end of the tunnel of light
When we stand to condemn that which was upright
When we gather to critize the upright 
When,, ,,,even the taboos gets afraid of the night,
My heart sinks for in my heart I sight;
We stand too young to die.

When proportion, emotion,corruption has no contention
Where morality is a cultural notion 
Trending economic activity is corruption
The age is not a barrier to 'sips and tastes of death' consumption
And still stand and claim to be a nation
To the end of our race is where we are driven by our locomotion
I still feel,we are too young to die.

I am not planning to be a missionary
For the words I preach were erased from their dictionary
But,
I can't stop to lament
The bitter truth to accept
For we are too young to die

The mistake committed not known to them
On the suffering grid they stand at the helm
Their  bridge to the success,sit content in agony overwhelm
And the teachers ,custodians of our culture,sit under the elm
Waiting for the last breath to be their help
For them to fill after life home,
For they know we are too young to die

As the sun set,
They eagerly await to their spirits free  let
If I guessed, I  would win the bet
For the length of night don't stop the morning light
Where my paper and pen will be my armor at the night
For we stand too young to die.


What If

What if…

What if my nightingale sings that what is right?
     What if all of this pain just stops for a night?
What if I can see it even if it’s dark?
     The truth is there among this vanishing sight.
I am waiting to see what else I can find. 
      What if there is nothing after, to excite?
Our dark path will lead us into the darkness,
     There is more darkness in this world than is light.
What if one day, we all wake up from this life?
     from this wishful thinking, sorrow, joy, and fright,
and wonder that what if all was a big lie,
     a losing game that we lost in a big fight.
We’re all custodians of life until death,
     Then we’ll recycle in nature; we just might.
Go and live this little time that you have now,
     There might not be tomorrow to do it right.
Forget all that there was, all that it will be,
    Remember that it is now that it’s all bright.
I heard "Haloo" was singing to the moonlight,
   The song was all about love and say goodnight.

12/24/2019 Haloo

Weeping Africa

I hear Africa weeping
gnashing her teeth in cold
but custodians sit in glory

Cows mooing
bulls bellowing
trees whistling
wind blowing dust in eyes
land cracking and dusty
insects invading crops
women labor in vain
children- new market goats afar
young- girls cakes of pleasure
water migrating to the heavens
but custodians sit in glory

Tell me, weeping Africa
what went wrong?
two generations after Uhuru
Africa telephones heaven, no network
Is Africa blacklisted by God?

Tell me weeping Africa
why do custodians sit in glory,
citizens eat dust
children orphaned
foxes feast on dead meat
why, why?
what went wrong?

Premium Member Ownership

One can’t own anything in life
Possession of a thing breeds bondage
With each thing that you acquire
There comes a new worry of
Never to let lose that thing
Whatever one possesses will own him.

People take ownership of diseases
They say, “My blood pressure,
My diabetes, my heart disease
My!  My!  My!  My! My!
But they can’t own diseases

People buy art pictures
They have a notion
That they are owners
But pictures own them.

Pictures will outlive
Or outlast them
They’re only custodians.

People are
Mere pharaohs

Dead.

            +++
October 20, 2014
Form: I do not know
10th Place win in Andrea's contest


Nation Building

How can we build a Nation?
When we are under the attack of corruption
How can we build a Nation?
When our leaders are without passion
How can we build a Nation?
When we are not fully supporting Education
When in our midst is division
How can we build a Nation?
When we are not ready to let go of religious tension
When we still wallow in abject poverty in this generation
How? How? How?
How can we build a nation?
When the powers that be suppress the masses?
How can we build a Nation?
When the few with courage are being imprisoned ?
How can we build a nation?
When our supposed fathers are not fatherly
Our supposed mother are not motherly
Our supposed custodians of justice have been manipulated
How? How? How?
Maybe I don't know 
But if you know tell us
That we may build and rescue  this Native land of ours.


ABSOL - 07032277508

ABSOL
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Happy Independence Day Liberia

Today we celebrate peace
Remembering how it was won
The many hearts that grieve 
For freedom is all we want

Salute the national flag Liberians 
Sing aloud the Lonestar forever 
Sing aloud the national anthem 
We are the custodians of Liberia's heritage 

Ours is the home of kindness 
The land where ships anchor with our forefathers 
Once torn apart by ignorance and a tomfoolery war 
With hope we strive to rebuild it together

Surviving unrelenting strife
Rainfall of misery on our lives
Alas, ignorance too come with a price 
It surmounted patriotism and morality 

170 with a little to show
Only our indelible past chanted by the waves of the Pacific 
Pausing our heartbeat for the innocents we lost
A sad day when anarchism won for sure

All hail Liberia hail
This glorious land of liberty 
Together we sing with plangency
Regardless the impediment we'll prevail

A Darker Shade of Light

ACKNOWLEDGMENT OF COUNTRY

“We acknowledge the Traditional Owners and Custodians of the lands on which we work and pay our respects to Indigenous Elders past, present and emerging. Sovereignty has never been ceded. It always was and always will be, Aboriginal land.

We recognise the past atrocities against Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples of this land and that Australia was founded on the genocide and dispossession of First Nations people. We acknowledge that colonial structures and policies remain in place today and recognise the ongoing struggles of First Nations people in dismantling those structures. The struggle to seek justice, to remember and address this nation’s past is ongoing and is a necessary requirement for individual and collective healing process.

We support the Uluru Statement from the Heart to achieve justice, recognition and respect for First Nations people and a referendum to enshrine a First Nations Voice in the Constitution. We accept the invitation contained in the Statement to walk together with Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples in a movement of the Australian people for a better future.”







“A Darker Shade of Light” 

(First Nation Australia from mind of whitefella)

My people 
see your people
simple ignorant
crazy greedy
black cockatoo 
laughing eyes 
smiling angry 
all seeing 
spit signature
fingers spread
on hands pointing
bones at my people
ochre powder 
yellow cake 
red earth bleeding
white fella 
yellow belly snake
blowing out 
the fires of our 
stolen children
torn from our 
mob, not yours
swallowed 
by your 
gadaidja fangs 
sinking into the skin 
of our land
poison 
all around 
greedy gubbah 
when will you 
understand

our nation 
not your flag

(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)

Premium Member Unmeant Meanings

 Unmeant meanings

	Words keep watch
				
      their eyes in the empty spaces
                                         	fingers feel their unformed faces

Can words mean what they were not meant for    all by   
                                                          theirnonselves
even if they come clothed in nonentity 
     cuneiforms hieroglyphics ideophonograms 
               strokes signs signals sounds shapes silences squiggles squares squirms suctions squirts scuds screams squelches screeches screams          or sickening sobs

	words sum up fix errant thoughts
speak for all
	though in tongues without jousting knights
  errancy will not lead to errantry

Only the blind conceive their shape form posture 
	the staid but rumbunctious music of stilled hieroglyphs
   the pliability of ideograms caressed down rice paper
					their squiggly strands
the self-effacing hand-and-foot maidens 
		of matronly phrases
    some leaning awry  
                                           the calligrapher’s trembling hand
all all straining upright
	the custodians of invested stock
	foot-stools of pouting poets
		         the sum-total of coveted currencies
	exchanged stock variables 

Who would be hurt    knifes himself
			with meaningless words
         who would laugh 
		breaks out into song
	the sing-song stress and accent of vowels round and strong
   learns wayward steadfastness
              with his words
	           with words
			with the word
				with the world of wonder in
  always willing and wilful words


April 23, 1997
From the privately-pub. coll. (re-worked 2016): longhand notes (a binding of poems), Paris: 1999, 115p.
© T. Wignesan – Paris,  2016
© T Wignesan  Create an image from this poem.

And Then the Sun Danced

When our human nature, in conflict, asks us to look beyond 
the visible, the believable ,the  impossible
I look to my soul for guidance, solace and reassurance 
To understand the Omnipotent , praise it and know it
…And then the  sun danced

Opening my mind to recognise without doubt where You exist.
Knowing that You inhabit even the smallest crevasse of the highest mountains
and the shell strewn ocean floor teeming with unseen beauty in the perpetual dusk.
The heavens alight above as well as  in splendid  darkness
….And then the sun danced

You are manifest  in every miracle of life You  ever called into existence and we the custodians.
In every unexpected smile from a child, that lights even the most hardened heart.
When we sing and see in the listeners eyes a connection to a deeper sentiment
and  acknowledge  Him for talents  bestowed, however great or small…
…..And then the sun danced 

I hear You….. in the  silence of every thought that wanders, yet always returns to you.
I feel You……. as you touch my soul filling it with appreciation  for those precious to me.
I sense You.....in the wisdom granted to know right from wrong.
I know You……. by  the value you place on me and gratitude overwhelms me
 allowing me to rejoice in  all of this.. 
………. And  then  the sun danced

Custodians of Pleasant Deeds

Custodians of pleasant deed


You will see them behind good
They mean no harm, but to join hands
Their aim is to build an organization of
Creative generous innovation
They are the structure;
The citadel of good behavior……….
Their MINDS are so clean and pure
They always want to make HOLY
They are like angel of the Mighty, the Highest, 
The Wonder, the Mystery, the Marvel
They are the angels of light in our society
The bad will always be on a point while the good
Will always be the foremost
Their name were being written 
With white pen on white board, the custodians of
Pleasant DEED shall not DIE
They shall rise in the hereafter
Where the fellow angels will welcome them with A song



Dedicated to all good wishers on this site,
I can't MENTION NAMES , they are countless

A Gang Rape

Beside the busy highway,
In the bushes there lay supine’
A despoiled corpse of a splendid damsel,
Scratched, bruised and all nailed,
Her cheeks bore   the prints of teeth,
And marble-white neck blue scars,
Her silky white dress was spotted,
With the dots of blood,
Her delicate white soft shoeless feet,
Were still unharmed,
Her hair was disheveled, added to her grace,
Her eyes half opened, 
As they were looking afar high beyond the sky,
To her dwelling place,
The wronged lips still bore an elegant smile,
If saying, "O! Dwellers of the world be happy evermore,
I depart to my own celestial place,
Where no one will desecrate my sanctity."
Then from the contents of her handbag,
 Some one found out a stained document,
And with blood was inscribed,
"I am Miss Honesty, raped in the dark,
By the custodians of law."

Premium Member The Light House

THE LIGHT HOUSE

The shimmering white beacon off the shores
Of Marble-head, let it's flickering light shine again,
In restorations amber glow of hope.
For are we not the custodians of our own history.
Allow us to relight the spark, igniting the flames
Kindling, a tinderbox of explosive force,
To expose our historical past for others to enjoy.
Than shall we not pass the torch forward.
It is up to us, to save legacy's heritage,
For the future generations to come.
Crumbling monument’s cry out to be
Remembered, times cruel weathering, does
Ascend tearing at the walls of mortar,
And chipping at the layers of paint.
Can we not lend a helping hand, to aid in
Such a worthy cause, to preserve our past.
Allow us as human beings, the keepers of
The lighthouse, to fuel the fire for preservation.
Let us leave a historical landmark, a piece of
The past worthy of saving, to be restored.
Hand-N-Hand, brick by brick, layers of
Humanities historical records need
Preservation reclamation.
It is a proclamations that should be heard,
For prosperity's sake alone.
Rise up Toledo-ans, see the torch light from
Afar distant island, let not this flame be
Stamped out, or fade away.
No not here in the grand state of Ohio,
In the light house, off Sandusky Bay,
Shall it's rays of brilliance shine again.
Against the Lake Erie waters, standing
Tall, as a beacons light of hope,
For future generations to come.

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
© Cherl Dunn  Create an image from this poem.

The Two Brothers, Lemmy and Remi

There were two of them
Lemmy and Remmy...
Two leaders born 
Born of destiny

The weight of government 
Must rest on the shoulders 
Of Lemmy and Remmi 
Israe-el and Leki

One king the other kingsman
One immortalized one mortal

There is no telling them apart but
Leki has a scar on his back.. yet
Others claim Israe-el has a scar too

When mama called out to Israe-el
He faced his mama who realized
The folly for faced her Leki...

A heated exchange outside the mall
Israe-el has Leki vexed..
And now its an all out war..
Israel tries to use the katana 
fails to wield it in its full power

Leki takes the sword lifts it, it thunders
And katana glint of silver comes alive
Down Israe-el... brevity in moment
Then Leki realizes what he has done

DADDY!! DADDY!!! screams Leki
I  have killed my bro .. DADDY!!!!

A slight rain covers the land..
Leki sobbing uncontrollably
A slight stir did i see, did i..
He is alive Leki!!... He lives

Far be it from you Leki
To ever put out the lantern
For in Israe-el is the lantern

The sword of Israe-el now
Belongs in the custody
The custodians seers 

Leki you realized katana..
Katana glint of silver 
You are extra powerful
Shouldn't be held lightly

Remmy  na Lemmy 
Abuja doesn't feed on manna..
That why the boom and boom
Is alive boom boom are drums

Drums of war for Lemmy doesn't
Doesn't live on manna... ABUJA






CODE 254
Mselah 0922hrs
LKN

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