Best Forefather Poems
Second Chance May 2016
Sponsor: Eve Roper
five generations
connected to my grandpa
kindred forefather
parents united
unto them came four children
love to go around
mother faced cancer
a dear lady, my angel
adulthood so strong
adoring siblings
warmhearted and devoted
affections of blood
money not vital
wealthy in rich loyalty
assets of true faith
our childhood dog Bo
my sweet Golden Retriever
my canine best bud
united as one
roots form a family tree
belovedly linked
Date Written: April 30, 2016
Date Finalized:May 19, 2016
Breathe, celebrate our ways; never forget them.
Rejoice in the power of our foremother, forefather.
Puissance in each footstep.
Celebrate their words; sing loud, spirited.
Sing to the moon which they saw.
Sing to the stars which were in their eyes.
Rejoice in every step, tap the earth; wake up old souls!
Let them know that we are here; willing.
Dance, laugh; tell them that you will never stop;
never stop until we dance, laugh and shout together.
Always; still today; under HIS Eyes, never parted, never will.
“Father of All, Hoopoe of the Shining Light
Voice of Truth, singing above pits of night
Light singing in heaven’s tree above the height
Barbelo in the heights unthinkable
Nous incorruptible, Word untouchable
Forefather whose voice is unspeakable
Father whose feathers are impenetrable”
Norea the phoenix cried with tears in eyes
Heaven’s birds heard and flew her to the skies
To the eternal garden of endless size
Under the singing doves of holy glass
That her head may rest in Epinoia’s grass
Resting under the wings of Adamas
To attain her first mind through Christ’s wings of brass
So, in this place, she breathes forth offspring herself
She has been gifted the Logos itself
She sings with the soul of Adamas himself
In unity with the undying birds
Singing immediately with life-filled words
With the eagle of Christ, the guide of herds
Resting in the light which she knew before words
Dwelling through the mind of mankind’s forefather
That Invisible Simurgh, the founder
She gives praise to the hoopoe bird, her father
She rests in the Gardens of rest and light
There are days where she beholds the Garden’s might
Her soul will be ever filled to the height
For she has the four doves, whose glass wings shine bright
The stained glass doves intercede for her again
To Adamas, in his heavenly den
That Hoopoe who rests in all the race of men
Housing Norea’s joy in his feathers
Who sings about the one name without measures
“All-Father, Hoopoe of holy pleasures
Voice of Truth, singing beyond earthly treasures”
Don Coto's..
face smiles no more
Only in memory
Paving the way for others
with dreams and aspirations
Arriving at these shores
To prosper achieving those dreams
And hopes that our forefather set
So many years ago while the moon
Looked on :-) tides rolling in and out
like clock work fish dancing to the
Florescent harmony of the stillness
The trip took many months
With many risks,so coming to this point
This time this place..I think about
Don Coto's flag ship la 'Cocora'
Now a memory lingering on and on
She was sold for scrap years before
We now go sailing on planes with wings
Like the beautiful birds seen flying high
Driving Upwards by the warm thermals
Sailing past Ponce Deleon and old San Juan
Reminiscing through my past,leaving behind
Our companions never to be seen again
The fisherman of el Farro and Playa Santa
Putting our noses against the window
Of This flying machine
To see this brand-new world in its grandeur
I Dios mio,oh my god
a Cold blustery morning it was
We left the balmy Tradewinds in morning
As we exit the this flying Machine
And enter a new world
White flakes racing from out of nowhere
Hearing my uncle Pedro ,watch your step
Watch your step stopping every every few feet
Allowing the fluffs of white to enter my mouth
Flicking my tongue like el Coqui
In between chattering teeth
but a thought comes to mind
A sadness,accentuated by a harsh reality
A new way of life A new language
A brand new shiny culture
Our old home left behind and now a new land
Called Los Estados Unidos
The United States
mi Nuevo Mundo
Our new world
bless us all...
I enter my primeval room lit with candles
from an ethnic sanctuary, and revisit
the mural of ancestral stories
where horses and men flock to graze
the oracles of generational chants
along a temple of ceremonies fed by rituals
now slowly molding in my mind…
the old folk confessions and communion
of decades cycled and recycled
by a rare history: parables marching back
to fables of peace -gongs and Asian warlike drums
claimed by time, claimed by my elder's rice wine,
that marrow against marrow
my flesh entwines among brave natives --
brothers of protection...mothers who nourish homes
as this ancestry cascades unto next heirs
of heirs of children like myself
bequeathing ruins and triumphs from
wise old souls, from our men’s legends…
and as the candle drifts,
my origin's history floods
these veins: I climb into life’s inner roots
and there my great forefather dwells
inside my blood... feisty, gentle, life-giving:
that somehow, I carry his heritage today,
I am his blood.
John Hamilton's Ancestral Roots
Submitted 6/10/2017
Lips combine
To say,“Amma”, the Mother Divine.
Amma – the sweetest word the first alphabet can provide
And the tongue safely rests inside!
Amma
Is sweet ambrosia.
O! she sees!
And my sorrows cease.
Her face
Reveals the divinest grace.
Her touches rinse
All my brutal sins.
O! she kisses and embraces!
I’m changed, I confess.
Then, she whispered something in my ear
It was so soft that my heart alone could hear!
It is a lesson
No father cares to teach his son.
It is a skill
A master is yet to teach his pupil.
It is an art
No educational system is fit to impart.
It is a position
That demands no university qualification.
It is an opportunity
That is never going to be easy.
It is a vocation
Where none can decide the remuneration.
It is a quality
Even the wise men envy.
It is a legacy
That no forefather has passed to his progeny.
It is a wealth
That is not owned by stealth.
It is a treasure
Beyond measure.
It is a fortune
That dances not with the rich man’s tune.
It is so priceless
That any price assigned makes its value less.
It is a noble virtue
Practised by very few.
It is a burden
For the weak-minded men.
It is a wish
Even the greatest yogins are yet to accomplish.
It is a want
A pleased God is yet to grant.
It is so human
That no Gods can attain but men!
It is as easy as easy can be!
It is as hard as hard can be!
Now let me reveal
The words Amma made me feel
What she beautifully said
What my heart at once responded
Was composed of only a few words, not many!
Ah! it was a new Vedic hymn to me.
She only said: “Serve mankind
With a selfless mind”.
FUNERAL RITES
Hunter and the hunted -
It's a breach of contract
Finger , pointed at me ,accusing ,my dad .
Muse forefather , consecrated water ,
An agreement on half burnt chest ,
Primitive scribes chiselled-
Dad, you shake me in my sleep
Lifeless curses on me
Zenith of fear, I agonists
Tent a bye-pass
My love offerings to you dad .
My son breakes glass
Leap beyond circles
I weep in remorse
How I imposed solitude on you!
Brunt out ashes
Broken words-
Dad..............my Day.
From the Elephant's diary
You find me giantly like Gulliver, huge and obese
but I met my doc, he said take it with ease....
for you big is more beautiful so eat more cheese
I am on my diet of sugarcane juice,
lush green grass n' tons of bamboos
Mammoth was my forefather not anymore seen
Now I know being gigantic is in my genes
Instructor at the gym shooed me away
for I broke his treadmill with my single step I say
We love to have our bath in nature's pool
We dabble water with our trunk till we are all cool
A relaxing shower for all friends after hectic schedule!
In our forest club, trophy for best music band,
we won last week for our trumpet troupe!
Large is our family my Jumbo uncle says,
Old and wise he is in our tuskers' herd
He says our eyes are small, to see
only little good left in this big bad world
And our ears are large to fan away
the gossips and bad we hear
Thick skin we do have so called pachyderms
to shrug off the hurling vices of the woods
but we have a large heart to spread
loads of love to all species widespread
In history, we have a place reserved
for in wars and royal processions,
we were used as pride symbols he says
Revered animals we are since eons.....
In country called India, heritage animal we are
and even worshipped in religious places he says!
Huge boulders or logs ,mankind used us for transport
We even entertain them in zoos and circus
But he regrets that we are poached, killed by men
to pull out pair of our incisors called tusks
who polish to make precious ivory to earn bucks
So useful and harmless friends to humans we are
I asked my uncle why so cruel the men are?
He said men show their power
of being Nature's superior creature
we elephant folk are helpless giants
We can do nothing but to pray that
we be valued for our selfless services and
be saved from going extinct from this world!
©Copyright Anulaxmi Nayak,2015
For contest: Giant animals
Sponsored by: D.Nathan
Date: 2nd September 2015
Over hundred fifty years ago, the Italian nation was
divided, the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies
was more prosperous than the North, peoples lived in accord;
envious eyes looked down and saw a harmonious world
and drew a plan to steal all of the gold...
folks who worked in factories and on farms
made their happy land prosper by opening their generous arms.
When the Thousands Men liberated
the South from the Bourbons things drastically changed;
King Emmanuel II met with with Garibaldi
by the Volturno river and shoke hands...Italy
was finally unified under the same flag!
Thanks to the peasants, the scoundrels and the artisans,
who took up arms against the Bourbon King,
but little they knew that the King of the North
had deceived them into many false liberties...
all the wealth they accrued was taken North,
leaving desolation, suffering and poverty behind...
this is how they treated their southern brothers!
Should there be a grudge against the young Northerners?
Their Forefather was the evil one who snatched all with stealth;
now, they prosper and look us down as lazy bums...
they have forgotten that civilization started here!
Naples was the center of music and literature besides her wealth;
artists and composers came and some dwelled here!
The South will rise again, and will know new glory:
southern brothers, let's get rid of crime: the undefeatable enemy
whose incurable plague prevents all progress!
Southern brothers, let's clean our land of the mobsters who despise God;
think of the martyrs who preached the Gospel to the pagans
in these very lands that Heaven has blessed, but violent men have defiled!
Written on 2/10/2016
Asking tribe’s future to the totem pole that grew higher
with the stock of fogs, drizzles, snows, suns, moons and stars,
that Haida laid one at a time from the day of their first step
on the sands, they followed the school of fish riding on the wavelets,
chased the fish plowing the surge of waves, hunted the big fish
buffeted by the billows because their home is the sea and the winds.
When heap of Haida’s days,
the days made through with the waves,
the days that lived through with the winds, turn into gray cloud,
and the time when this dismal gray cloud turns around the hillsides
over this village, drifts along the riversides by that village and falls
on the water’s edge as a drizzle, the villagers come to the village square
calling moon and stars above the sky while stepping
on the fallen leaves on the path that links to tomorrow.
When the moonlight wanes to fall on the water and become ripples,
the stars close their twinkling eyes overwhelmed by deepening night
and fall to sleep in the depths of water, the lads sit around the bonfire
sharing their body temperature with all the tribesmen
to hear the elder’s story regarding relationship
for the forefathers’ forefather with totem pole.
And as time goes by, the night falls deeper and deeper
the good-hearted artless Haida converse with carved image
that flames in the bonfire light on the top of the totem pole
wearing the masks created with a whole spirit
and utmost devotion to the Spirit
that lives within the totem pole.
Note: The reproduced Haida village on the backyard of Museum of Anthropology, University of British Columbia.
Once upon a time, in a hidden part of our world’s history
A secret fellowship once existed called, a Sacred Meow Society
Founded by the father of the royal feline during the ancient century
With his wife and two kittens, crowned and veiled to live peacefully
This society was established in the remote city of Moonglow
To venerate their greatest and noblest forefather, Purr Mow
They were taught not to eat any kind of meat especially cow
First religious teaching on respect, “ You shall raise paws, vow.”
The Sacred Meow Society read their thick sacred book everyday
They taught all kittens to wear golden mittens when they pray
Their society was very strict on rules, “You shall purr not scratch”
“Don’t steal fish, just wait for a catch” in verse 3 of Catouch.
Their society tried to expand or spread all over the world
The doctrines they taught were in meow's language--unfurled
They tried to reach out to dogs but they said bow-wow-Wow
The dog's friendship had made this society finally vanished in thaw.
March 3, 2023 11.46 am
The Sacred Meow Society
Contest Judged: 3/14/2023 6:02:00 PM
Sponsored by: Mystic Rose Rose
Place 1 (2nd trophy win I received)
FUNERAL RITES
Hunter and the hunted-
Itís a breach of contract
Finger, pointed at me, accusing, my dad.
Muse forefather, ancestors of Time
Sandal, flowers, consecrated water,
An agreement on half burnt chest,
Primitive scribes chiselled-
Dad, you shake me in sleep
Lifeless curses on me
Zenith of fear, I agonists
Tend a bye-pass
My love offerings to you dad.
My son breaks glass
Leap beyond circles
I weep in remorse
How I imposed solitude on you !
Burnt out ashes
Broken words-
Dad...........my Dad.
Let's foray, let's foray
Let's foresee the success of our nation.
To becoming foremost
The foreman is on the roll
Let's pray to our forefather and foregather
The army is foregoing
Let's forefront the other
And forget rivalry
Let's foray and foregather
To give a foregone conclusion.
By Manthra
As a tad his soul was fired as he was regaled with family lore,
Rapt, hearing of his forebear's national service in times of yore.
Following tradition, he donned the uniform as his fathers did before,
Eager to serve his nation in its uniform that he so proudly wore!
He learned that in the misty past an ancestor served at Valley Forge,
To help free the emerging nation from the bondage of King George.
A forefather served as a sergeant in the Battle of New Orleans,
Barely surviving the ordeal on rations of rancid bacon and beans!
A grandfather carried a musket in the Mexican War affair.
Another, a cavalryman in the Civil War, served with elegant flair.
In the Spanish-American fray, a relative charged up San Juan Hill.
His great-granddad led a platoon in World War One with consummate skill!
His grandad was a fighter pilot during World War Two, becoming an ace,
Later to soar as an astronaut through the vast expanses of space!
His Dad, a colonel of artillery served with conspicuous bravery,
In Korea and Viet Nam to free peoples from the yoke of slavery!
The young warrior himself served with distinction in each Gulf War,
As an expert 'copter pilot in the United States Marine Corps!
Recounting the sacrifices their fathers made to keep this nation free,
He instilled in his son the worth of service, while dandling him on his knee!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
Dear Lady,
I heard you say that you still trust President Trump
to do almost as good a job as he says he is doing,
despite all the lies,
because "they all do that",
just say whatever the audience of the moment
would most like to hear.
Really?
I believe Abraham Lincoln,
our first Republican President,
would be surprised to hear his Gettysburg Address
was "telling them what they want to hear"
in his best cheerleader,
go, fight, win voice.
And it seems to me that Thomas Jefferson,
one of the PreRepublican forefather type Presidents,
would object to hear his rather specific name-calling
Declaration of Independence from plutocratic,
and perhaps greedy, and maybe slightly cynical, Elitists,
was just telling the good King what he really wanted to hear.
But regardless of whether our quality standards for Presidential integrity
should reasonably be expected to go up,
now that we're into our 40th-something incarnation of this Office,
or reasonably be expected to go down
after the first two or three, or sixteen,
or whatever
back in ancient integrity times,
when the premillennial pubic person was worth his/her word
in trust repaid.
How can you trust a President
who is significantly less sure of your right to health and climate care giving
and receiving
for yourself
and for our multiculturing grandkids,
than was the former President?
How is that going in a direction that you
and your healthy extended pro-life family,
your tribe,
neighborhood militia,
or paranoid klan,
or whatever
you continue to trust
as some direction that could be good enough
for those you love the most?
Health,
like racism
and sexism,
does not optimally arrive in individual-portioned packages;
they only sustain resilient climaxes
on interdependent through empty and bereft social scales
of qualities for cooperative wealth v WinLose competing pathologies.
Still Listening
Your Democratic HealthAsWealth Advocate