Best Governs Poems
I could see the virus approaching so why couldn't he?
But he had to keep investors happy and save the economy
On his watch people in their thousands, died needlessly
The U.K. had a spiralling death rate, a preventable tragedy.
He didn't listen to the top scientists, they have said so
I hope he doesn't try and deny it and say he didn't know
Care home residents from hospitals sent home to die
A ring of steel around the vulnerable, seems that was a lie.
Denials and lies seems to be a politicians stock in trade
Many have looked on in horror at the decisions he's made
Lockdowns were implemented but sadly too late
While the virus was spreading at an alarming rate.
He said " no more lockdowns, let the bodies pile high"
His advisor said he said it and of course he'll deny
The Bereaved Families for Justice, want a public enquiry
A waste of taxpayers money because he governs with impunity.
He stood in his doorway clapping with a smile on his face
What he offered the NHS 'heroes' is nothing short of a disgrace
They were offered a paltry rise of a measly one percent
Many put themselves at risk and are now struggling to pay rent.
These pandemics are nothing new and this one won't be the last
It's a shame that he and other leaders didn't learn from the past
Politicians are sparse with the truth, and they often deceive
But please make up your own mind on who you want to believe.
Written on 25th May 2021.
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2_________MIND_________ 2
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1_________BODY_________ 1
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0________SOUL_________ 0
The ruler of my creativity
that governs my poetry.
A blazing Sun abruptly appears
Indulged in selfish applause
Heartless to the core, her light declares
She governs the Universe
The Sun gets only a glimpse of the Moon
Jealous of the Stars who pave the night's way
She races to conspire with the Horizon
To keep the Moon at bay
Melancholy is the Moon as night draws near
Chilled with howling cold and fear
Unspoken words hang stiff in the air
Each has felt them like a prayer
The Moon sits in shadows of his own silhouette
To endure thousands of years in silence
Staring through space with hollow eyes
There are no words, the Moon only cries
Karen Anglesey written 03.03.13 Recently published in Best Poets and Poems 2012 by World Poetry Movement, Utah
03/03/13
The tricky question of how many animal farms we have
May be more complicated than most of us think;
There are at least some fifty-five animal farms in the world
Where wild mammals play and eat and drink.
And although there lightning is feared more than law,
These farms all seem to have the selfsame collective code.
Since different from the mainstream law, we may call it lore:
The silent cipher that governs the primitive farms.
There everyone is entitled to their share of breath
As long as they breathe within their native home,
Breathing within the territories of other beasts
Wins you mob lynching according to the animal tome.
No animal may acquire such vast knowledge
As to threaten the rule of the Elephant and the Lion.
The acquisition of illegal learning only leads
To the doom Artemis wreaked on the restless Orion.
There you must not shout of forbidden things
Such as animal rights and equality of beasts oppressed;
For it is clearly stated by the immutable silent code
That some mandrills are more equal than the rest.
A beast of worth begets offspring of the same worth;
If a beast be an outcast born, the same must a pariah remain.
No animal may rise from the bottom to the aristocratic realm:
No beast must such thoughts of improvement entertain.
The lore of the mandrills is not lean,
As said, these codes make a huge-volume tome
Which you can’t leaf through in a day,
Though you may get a copy and read at home.
Yet the problem is that censorship there is tough
And as such the lore has never been put in print;
The few Cheetahs who championed for a free press
Were one by one snuffed without a hint.
The dove flies by with olive branch extended
Showing the world that peace is not but a whim
to search your conscience is recommended
The leaders of men listen to your heart, affected
by the power that wars can bring, look for when
the dove flies by with olive branch extended
Listen to the people, how the horror of war offended
their very soul, as dignity rescinds within.
to search your conscience is recommended
Why do we fight, what governs these acts, hated
by most whatever the colour of your skin
The dove flies by with olive branch extended
Sit down together you leaders of might and hatred
Bring an end to the conflicts before they begin
to search your conscience is recommended
Peace the advocate of many a dream suspended
Prayers would be answered in whatever religion
The dove flies by with olive branch extended
to search your conscience is recommended
I chose PEACE
Penned March 3rd 2015
I am the environmentalist in love with wine,
my shoulders carry and reside in the cutting edge side of life,
the establishment craves to be the human race
while I stroll the memories of “Sailor fields”
amongst ancient Jurassic stone.
Is this! The only way for me?
My saline tears run freely now a days,
it’s time that governs one’s sentiment,
no doubt the plague of waiting relates to this.
What! Of the future,
hey , i want to forget about futuristic wars,
may be the media are in gross error of judgment?
I’m told I’m only a little man, at last now I know why I’m the
one that society chastises every day,
Why this mortal flame in constant combat becomes
life’s tomb stone around my neck.
To feel freedom, another swig so my lacklustre eyes again become stimulated
as the view overcomes my immobility and bids farewell, to the great lady
that glides portly on the outgoing tide.
Curse this elemental wind
that curls in from the east,
“Mother” i cry
“Is this the clarity of our beginning.” the start of all this crap,
as astringent thoughts flow through my urban bucolic mind,
seeing or feeling nothing of the moment, only a repeat of the actions of many insensitive men,
those that flourish, those that sentiment cannot stain those that walk tallest amongst men;
because they were hungry for appurtenance.
I remember well , in the far off lea of my mind,
down on the farm thousands of miles away across the Pacific,
where enamel clashed against concrete
there , where foolhardy dreams were dashed,.
when the heart pursued
the warm flesh , she that gave her
reflection to the swan song
of an innocence.
Alas should one be compelled to expire
as one would, a chardonnay basking in the hot sunshine?
Should one fall foul of a politically correct society
that , outside of one’s comfort zone,
because one feels , want , in choleric veins?
Even the sullen white cross, dotted upon the highways
become burning embers, a constant reminiscence,
an emotional monument to many inhibited memories.
Yet I beg this deportment shows me a realization,
that death is imminent,
so why this perpetual waiting, this constant urge,
for this vein dependency to be infringed upon ???
© Harry J Horsman 2012
When I behold the rising of a new day's sun,
Or glorious sunset when the day is done,
Or view the majestic moon rising o'er the dell,
I see the Hand of God at work and know that all is well!
It is He who waters the earth with life-sustaining rain,
To nourish all the fruits and fields of golden grain.
He renders the bountiful harvest across the verdant plain.
'Tis surely the Hand of God attending His vast domain!
Who but He could have formed the mighty mountain peaks,
Pristine lakes, flowing rivers and gently rippling creeks!
It is He who adorns the trees in gold and scarlet every fall.
'Tis surely the Hand of God that wrought this celestial ball!
I see the Hand of God when a mother cuddles her newborn child;
When the babe first peered at mother's face and sweetly smiled!
He has boundless love for all creatures be they great or small.
'Tis surely the mighty Hand of God that governs o'er all!
When I regard the stars or a comet as across the sky it speeds,
How can I not stand in awe of His matchless deeds!
Though there is so much about His universe I'll never understand,
This I know for sure - 'tis the creation of the Master's Hand!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
He, has power and governs in the greatest of all tornados and whirlwinds.
His voice, is the voice of the greatest of all the oceans.
Who speaks with the brilliant light, brighter than lightning.
He who’s thunderous footsteps can divide a mountain.
He, who controls and moves in the greatest of all whirlwinds.
His voice, is the voice of the greatest of all the oceans.
Who speaks with the brilliant light, brighter than lightning.
He who’s thunderous footsteps can divide a mountain.
The Earth, melts in the presence of His holy countenance.
I am He, the Almighty God, Jesus and in the (Trinity)
The True and Living God is we (one in Unity, equal in power).
Willing to come humbly, and to sacrifice one’s self.
How dare there be any mention of any little others.
For I (God) says personally, “I do not know of anyone else.”
If else, they be false gods, “mini parasites and leeches.”
Yet, from all eternity, there is Me, “The Almighty God, Trinity."
"I am," the only Savior from alpha to omega.
The Great “I Am” is Me.
How dare there be any mention of any others.
For I (God) says personally, “I do not know of anyone else.”
If else, they be false gods, “mini parasites and leeches.”
Yet, from all eternity, there is Me, “The Almighty God;Trinity."
"I am," the only Savior from alpha to omega, A to Z.
The Great “I Am” is Me.
Uncertainty hangs up above my head
Bringing me to blink faster
To bite my lower lip
And to sigh heavily
Pray, the unknown remains a mystery
It can be pleasant
As it can weigh heavily
The unknown, tomorrow, and what it can bring
Is what I fear!
Why, all that we plan in life
The way we have pictured ourselves
The structures we have built for ourselves
Can crumble at any moment
And can bring us to a state of doom
Unable to stand by ourselves
Unable to be of significance to the world!
Our lives and the way they turn out
Depend not on our will
If such would be so
Why, we would be deemed as being Gods and Goddesses
Having the ability to shape and control existence!
The uncertainty of life, remains my fear
The fact that I am powerless when faced with it
Makes me anxious about it
Why, faith remains the rope to grope on to
When life bares its teeth at us
And shows us her harsh side
Still, life and its unpredictable nature
Often makes me want to renounce of it!
Why, living itself is an act of bravery
Armed with love for life
And for the power that governs it
Allows us to live it while using it
To progress to the state of perfection
Even if one step at a time!
Uncertainty hangs up above my head
And I, pretending to be bold,
Choose to stand up, face it and live
According to it!
Colonization of Africa
Colonization in Africa
Africa after the Berlin Conference
Africa on colonial era
Era of colonization
Era of European Imperialism
Imperialism was effected
Imperialism was intensified
Intensified due to imperialism
Intensified by European
European imperialism
European exploration
Exploration in Africa
Exploration race
Race of exploration
Race of people
People get affected
People power
Power of imperialism
Power of colonialism
Colonialism in Africa
Colonialism and natural resources
Resources of human
Resources of culture
Culture of society
Culture of tradition
Tradition preserves
Tradition of tyranny
Tyranny of a ruler
Tyranny of oppressive government
Government governs
Government built the place
Place of forum
Place of conference
Conference on going
Conference hall
Hall facing
Hall of fame
Fame for its culture
Fame to total obscurity
Obscurity which conceals
Obscurity of expression
Expression of apathy
Expression of compassion
Compassion of one
Compassion for others
Others must have faith
Others lead
Lead...
Faith...
04/23/16
Third Place
"DIG DEEP - RACE RELATIONS
-CONFLICTS-COLONIALISM"
by Marugu Mo
In all these triumphs and human attainments
To overcome these realities of material boundaries and confinements
Do we simply fill our lives with possessions and possessive capitalist greed
Is it just ego and the fear of death that governs our sense of individuality
Have not all of us been children, been fathers or mothers, siblings and friends
Do we not count the emotion of another as being equal to our own
Are we not each and everyone, all of us in this together
Or does this blood run a different colour
Or do we waste our potential for mankind’s united evolvement
To reach for the inspiring pinnacle of our spiritual development
Mutually joined in a harmony of trust to the betterment of our destiny
When do we celebrate the diversity of our sense to make sense of the senseless
And so we have lingered through the century’s victim to our own disease
In progress and with education our intelligence still limited in tribal ignorance
The mathematic, scientific and technological revolution providing no solution
Simply confounded by our own simplicity and basic needs
For food and warmth, for shelter and love, for the relief of boredom
Cavemen of the mundane and slaves to acquisition and our own entertainment
As we merely continue to continue
Such is as we are, the problem vis-à-vis the individual and the global
Knowing all to well what we could achieve if we could but realise our dreams
Doomed to a life which creates nothing but want
And a daily reminder of all the things that we can’t
While the cradle of the Earth sickens with our planetary abuse
Have we truly lost ourselves in the all about the money all the way of things
Have we signed our fate over to our own arrogance and blind stupidity
When then do we celebrate our diversity of sense to make sense of "our" senseless
Incineration of Love God Madan ( Cupid )
Three of Many
Originally written in Hindi by my late father Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor
1899 to 1994
English version by Ravindra K Kapoor.
Prelude to this epic.
According to Indian mythology Madan the Love God or Cupid was asked to divert the attention of Lord Shiva*, the supreme God of Hindus, who was lost in deep meditation, so that Lord Shiva may be requested to help the Gods from the attacks of the demon supreme immortal Tarakasur. However, when Madan disturbed Him in meditation Shiva became too furious and opened His third eye. Madan the Cupid God got burnt by the fire of the anger of his third eye. This epic reveals many interesting incidents about this story later in this series…..
(Hindi Name) Madan Dahan
Passion had not attained,
Control over human life,
Serene Love then prevailing,
Was the ideal worship.
Gold had not blackened,
Mind and heart of humans,
Service of all was then,
Lives most glorious action.
Work of Brahma* the creator,
Was at the verge of completion,
Vishnu* the preserver of Universe,
Had created livelihoods for all.
Ravindra
Kanpur India 23rd April 2012
Protected under the copywrite provisions of Poetry Soup
Clarifications:
*Brahma- According to the Puranas, Brahma is self-born in the lotus flower. Another legend says that Brahma was born in water. A seed that later became the golden egg. From this golden egg.. The remaining materials of this golden egg expanded into the Brahman?a or Universe.
* Vishnu -Vishnu is the supreme God of Hinduism. It describes Vishnu as the All-Pervading essence of all beings, the master of—and beyond—the past, present and future, one who supports, sustains and governs the Universe and originates and develops all elements within. Vishnu governs the aspect of preservation and sustenance of the universe, so he is called "Preserver of the universe".
Orange is the chakra color
that governs our sexuality,
our creativity, and passion.
This chakra, the sacral area
beneath the naval, sparks our
drive to love and reproduce.
It calls upon artists to paint,
poets to create inspiring poetry,
composers, melodious music.
Orange rules hues of firelight in
the glorious sunrise and sunsets.
Tangerine skies lend tranquility
with beauty each dawn and dusk.
Carnelian, orange jade, and agate
gemstones increase and aid self-
esteem, confidence, and balance.
Orange, a color of joy and harmony.
So wrap yourself in orange glory!
3-5-16
United Color: Orange Contest
Sponsor Silent
The Birds, They Were So Silent
I raced away early one bright morn,
running in clouds so very fleet
The birds, they were so silent
deathly stiff on a frozen icy sheet
Crossing bridge to glimmering lake
no worries, time was on my side
My charms would do me right
in this was my everlasting pride
I will find my lover's heart
bruised and battered it may be
As sure as life is a sweet fountain
my words shall bring her again unto me
I'll kiss her hands and her pretty feet
she will sway into my loving arms
A vision of pure heavenly delight
again falling for my arrogant charms
Our lives now by guile reunited
time will flow like a raging flood
The Love of My Lusts,
shall live and eat in my blood
Summers shall be our playtime
winters for hot steaming nights
Time will yield to my magic
as my love sees wonderous sights
In the depths of this dream
she shall obey my hot desires
As I step from the dark shadows
to set ablaze her deepest fires
No heartaches , no terrible worries
life and love sets its steady pace
No tears shall ever fall across
the beauty of her loving face
Dancing into my long aching arms
into this sweet dream she shall dwell
No harm will I allow to visit her
as I seal shut the dark Gates of Hell
She will love me all the more
as we step into another golden realm
Sea shall envy her growing beauty
as I sail this ship steady at the helm
The ages crack into this deep mirror
joys are now so viciously denied
She now doubts my deep, slavish love
as my jealousy exposes my darkest pride
When time brings in its destroyer
love may stop cold in its track
I am but a love lost dreamer
thrown down upon my broken back
Yet again look into my heart's mirror
the dream I made come alive for you
There is such goodness in this fantasy
you my life, your love governs all I do
I stand at this scary precipice
your hand is my greatest want
Love sends its everlasting glory
except when it mercilessly don't
You my darling hold the lasting key
late in this dream time stands still
My desires are as shallow nothings
measured against your true loving will
I raced away early one bright morn,
running in clouds so very fleet
The birds, they were so silent
deathly stiff on a frozen icy sheet
Robert J. Lindley, 11-23-2014
Like a farmer whose furrowed fields lie pregnant
yet parched in the sun,
I search the line that marries earth to sky
for the faintest slip of white,
A sign that moisture gathering in those depths
might offer more than shade.
Men and equipment are still now - all the forces
that I command.
Days filled with promise rise and fall like
children missing their turn,
While the gesture that could free them lies camouflaged
in the crazing of the earth.
Mindful that shapes deceive and breezes die, still I grow,
no longer just a watcher of clouds.
I sing a primitive song of desire to the power that
governs her gathering,
And open my arms to embrace an answered prayer,
the moisture of her breath.
Brian Johnston
Blunt, South Dakota 1989