Best Pilgrims Poems
“The sacred lake also called Ganga Talao represents the mighty Ganges river of India.” Mauritiusinsideout.com>grand-bassin-mauritius
A Sacred Lake
In the midst of a tropical forest
The mouth of a long extinct volcano
Surrounded by hills not so high
Bordered by lush trees and bushes
Is the seat of sparkling waters
That undulate in little waves
In direction of the prevailing winds,
Reflect the azure blue of the clear sky
The bright rays of the sun during the day
And white shines of stars and the moon at night.
Before men had set their eyes on the lake
Angels danced on the shore of the waters
To the tunes of the breeze on moonlight nights;
When a dream revealed the sight to a soul
And slim pathways were threaded to the lake
Angels no more plied to the sacred site,
But thousands of men flocked to the spot for prayers
And on the eve of Maha Shivratri
Hundreds of thousands of pilgrims tread to the lake
To source sacred water to pour on Lord Shiva.
All year round, tourists converge to the lake
To stroll around this sacred site
Charm their eyes with its unique tapestry
And snap shots of its picturesque beauty
To relish as memento of their trip
And cherish as a divine work of art
Legated to this tropical island
By the graceful divinity
Who dropped a piece of paradise
In midst of the Indian Ocean.
Categories:
pilgrims, imagination, nature, spiritual,
Form:
Imagism
Why did pilgrims come to America
For Religious Freedom
10112014
Categories:
pilgrims, history, immigration,
Form:
Couplet
WHO WERE THE PILGRIMS ?
JAMESTOWN
1607
Four hundred years ago high-born Brits sailed to America
Seeking fast fortunes, adventure and fame.
Many would never endure their first year here
Cultivating, foraging, and hunting game.
Arriving in Virginia they came ill-prepared
In search of gold and a route to the South Seas
What they found were hostile Indians,
Insects, starvation, and disease.
“Virginia is Earth’s only Paradise!”
The laureate of England would proclaim!”
However by August of 1607,
Every day there was anguish, and pain.
They ate their horses, dogs, cats and rats
One man ate his wife and hid her bones in the ground.
Despite their hardships, half managed to survive
Becoming America’s first permanent, English town .
THE FIRST THANKSGIVING
The Pilgrims held their first Thanksgiving
At Plymouth in October 1621.
The bitter winter of 1620, was over
With a loss of many father, mother, daughter or son.
Life for survivors was much better now
As a good harvest improved what was rationed
Settlers enjoyed good health and prosperity
As homes were raised from the logs they fashioned.
They walked unafraid and safely in the woods
For they had made peace with the Indians.
After the signing a long-lasting treaty
Natives and Pilgrims shared the land as friends.
Sending four men to shoot waterfowl and wild turkeys
The Pilgrims decreed a holiday of good fortune
A chief was invited who brought 90 braves
And five deer to increase the portion.
It was an open-air roast and festival
Held along the north bank of Town Brook.
Where there were games of skill, chance and dance
While everyone gorged on the feast they cooked.
From then on Thanksgiving spread through the colonies
Though each region chose its own date.
Till in 1789 President Washington proclaimed
November 26 a day to give thanks and celebrate.
The theme of Thanksgiving has always been the same.
Though its date has changed many times.
A day for giving and remembering the less fortunate
Expressing thankfulness with our prayers, hearts and minds.
It is our duty as a nation to acknowledge providence
Of Almighty God, and to obey his will.
To be grateful for his blessings, and protection
As we humbly partake in the tables we fill.
Categories:
pilgrims, adventure, hope, imagination, inspirational,
Form:
ABC
Of Pilgrims and Indians
By Elton Camp
In school we are taught a history filled with lies
In order that American history be well sanitized
The Pilgrims were a stern but gracious bunch
Who invited the Indians in to share their lunch
The Pilgrims were grateful to God to still be alive
And that with the Indian’s help, winter did survive
In their joy that they were still among the living,
Fed the savage natives at the first Thanksgiving
They thought themselves to be God’s chosen group
That those evil heathen it was God’s will they dupe
They were the new Canaanites in the promised land
Who, unless they converted, suffered a stern hand
In the name of Christ, they had every right to slaughter
Any the rebellious Indians: man, wife, son or daughter
The massacres of the Pequots are a very good example
Of what the Indians could expect was only a sample
Defenders of Pilgrims say that they were a hostile tribe
Murderous and far more vicious than one could describe
But, the Pequots were quite tranquil and living in peace
When Pilgrims hunted them like animals did that cease
It was in 1637, to the evil Pilgrim’s everlasting shame
Set a village on fire & shot those who escaped the flame
Before they set out with the intention to destroy a village
They prayed to their Lord to direct them in their pillage
To Indian captives, Pilgrims showed the extent of hate
To murder wasn’t enough, so they enjoyed to mutilate
So one Pequot man they literally tore limb-from-limb
Until Captain Underhill showed mercy and shot him
And by candid records written at that time, we’re told
Captives they decided not to kill, into slavery they sold
Other Indian tribes, to help, the Pilgrims did compel
And demanded body part of victims as success to tell
Some may teach we cannot know what motives they had
But their conduct speaks for itself and is so terribly bad
To viciously kill other people seemed to give them a thrill
Then they made it worse by claiming that it was God’ will
(The version of the Pilgrims we are taught is school is nearly a complete falsehood.
An example of spinning history. Sorry to crush any childhood delusions.)
Categories:
pilgrims, historyschool, evil, history, school,
Form:
Rhyme
Polish potato pancakes
My clan’s tradition
Peel, grate, soften in water
Add eggs, onions, salt
A smidge of flour
Fry in oil
Wow!
*I am truly thankful for everything my grandparents did for me as a child. Learning to cook ethnic foods is just one of many blessings they bestowed upon me.
*Entry for Gwen and Tony's Thanksgiving Dinner Epulaeryu contest
Categories:
pilgrims, food, holiday, thanksgiving,
Form:
Epulaeryu
A staff in hand
Sandals on his feet
A backpack of provisions
He departed that morning
Towards the first settlement
Towards the rising sun
Said he wanted to make it
To the eastern gate pass
Exit our realm
Into the first settlement
They calmly reminded him
The path was blocked
By the seraphim
With flaming swords
But he claimed the gate
Was now open
For the elect to gain entry
Categories:
pilgrims, myth, mythology, religious,
Form:
Narrative
On this path, this somber trail
Many rivers we have crossed
Not without the pilgrims plight
Fore dreaded sights beseech our heels
And lingering nights tinkered deep,
On we march to victory’s dawn!
On this road laid with thorns
Forlorn wind and sinking sand
With blighted feet we thread along
To the ray of hope in our horizon,
The light is near for victory’s dawn.
Weary not poor traveler’s sole,
Despair not the soul within,
Hearken not to dissent flute,
Fasten not on sorrow’s brood,
Hasten on for victory looms!
On this path such somber trail
Our limbs wane, our heart ached,
Our sight set to the distant light
In the glow beckons our victory song.
Weary not poor traveler’s sole,
Despair not the soul within,
Hearken not to dissent flute,
Fasten not on sorrow’s brood,
Hasten on for victory looms!
Categories:
pilgrims, adventure, anniversary, anxiety, appreciation,
Form:
Verse
Pilgrims without progress were a people by name,
They travelled a road that was always the same.
The way that was mapped for the route they took,
Was inscribed by pen in a leather bound book.
The road was rocky and scattered with thorn,
And the people were hot and feeling forlorn.
Their feet were sore and their faces were red,
And the sun shone without mercy down on their head.
The distance was painted with bright coloured flowers,
That soothed the eye and filled the long hours;
And a hawk that soared high in a bright blue sky,
Was looking for food to feed her babies nearby.
They kept on walking throughout the dark night,
With the moon on high shining her light.
A breeze that comforts touched their weary face,
Urging them onward to finish the race.
Though travels of all made them weary and sore,
A need to get there was not helping anymore;
For the way that they went led all of them round,
Back to the place where the beginning was found.
Categories:
pilgrims, adventurepeople, people,
Form:
Light Verse
Progress of Pilgrims
David J Walker
Poverties refugees
In portions of wealth
for the making
Sunbaked promises
Cotton spun gold
Such are the
stories told
For the taking
In the slim shadows of
Mills that turn wind
into water
soil into fodder for
cattle
forgotten graves
mark the progress of
Pilgrims on a
Caliche highway to heaven
Categories:
pilgrims, allegory, life,
Form:
Rhyme
Christians
are one as Christ's,
nursing the souls we find,
the blind, the lame, the weak, the poor
never keeping score; we adore
Noble Pilgrims
Copyright McCuen 2009
Categories:
pilgrims, inspirational
Form:
Free verse
We were pilgrims to the great city
one who's culture is globally abundant
all types live there
Big name giants
Equal minded intellectuals
Rights activists aplenty
Kings of poetry and literature
Envious dealers of intensity
Laymen wishing to emulate
Espresso madmen doing caffeinated jigs
Young men smoking and drinking life
We traveled by metal camel
roars replaced by motor-sounds
unpacked and unassuming
went from one seller of books
to the next
increasing our brains
our addiction
for the word, the line, the
rhyme, the poetry of the greats
that we love and revere
they speak to us still
even though many are long disposed
by their own hands, others or
natural fire escapes.
Still we learn from them
the best class in town
Kerouach, Burroughs, Bukowski
Ginsberg, Plath, Frost, Yeats,
Rumi, Hafiz, Elliot, they
and others are all invited
once consumed by the crowd
advice given by Pot-Dealer
not the drug, the ceramic
college education a must
he says-for sure
I say-summary of course
Black Man with sign yelled
at by stressed out White
fed up with himself no doubt
we backlash to "Pakistan-India"
the food amazing down our
throats, our voices speaking
of amazing things. We bounce
off of each other as two
friends should. We relate
and yet inspire each other
in our own unique way
we have a distinct voice
style
process
so did Rumi and Shams
yet we, like them
embrace the world with
our similar views and passions
Fruit that shine different shades
yet shine united
in the cool California sun
Differences can be united
Friendship can cross all
bounds of material fences
this is why this pilgrimage
is perfect. United together
and with the world. All
expressing our very real dance
with the universe.
For Ross.
Categories:
pilgrims, friendshipeducation, poetry, drug, universe,
Form:
Free verse
Away with our sorrow left to abide...
The pain tomorrow never glide.
Our fate lies hollow forever stricken;
Our faith but a shallow bears a shaken.
We hoped on the rain that broke our haven;
anticipation in strain dead to awaken.
Our worries still linger never to fade;
our minds to ponder, memories to bade.
Our plea for hope bore tears we bled;
but off they slope like a tree in its shed...
Categories:
pilgrims, sad,
Form:
ABC
Individual souls orbiting the world
Stuck in our own bored routine
Categories:
pilgrims, philosophy,
Form:
alone with your fears
counting your missteps, you want to get rid
of smell of bodies from a wheelbarrow,
circumstances were breaking the raw ethnic
borders, come brother come, listen
Mars was hesistant to come near the earth –
the pungent eyes, do not flow, perhaps
the bare chested night will sing for flowers
who did not insult the sun, shedding their
petals became dried seeds to be thrown
in inferno of hatred and anger to burn
like lighted candles of centuries –
i do not want to send curse for anybody
in this terrible land of goodbyes
Satish Verma
Categories:
pilgrims, art
Form:
Strangers and pilgrims on the earth
Not as famous as Mrs. Butterworth
Not as strong as Mr. Clean
Cannot sing like Jimmy Dean
Who am I? I ask myself
Feeling small as a Keebler Elf
Instant replay of my life
Shows I’m more like Barney Fife
If just once I could soar across the sky
And save Polly Purebred before I die
Or have a heart to heart with Mr. Ed
Just once or twice before I’m dead
If I could only belt a baseball
Or make a deal with Monte Hall
I would laugh and dance and sing
Ali couldn’t touch me in the ring
To my ego it seems so vital
To perform on American Idol
I don’t necessarily have to win
Just know I’m loved by Rin Tin Tin
Popeye says, “I am what I am”
But maybe he’d rather be Superman
If we really knew the truth
Clark Kent may have longed to be Babe Ruth
What do you think Babe Ruth would want?
To be Abe Lincoln or General Grant?
If I could be any or all of these things
I’d have to give up my own blessings
All good things come from above
I wouldn’t have all the stuff that I love
My wife, my kids or even my cat
I hadn’t thought much about that
To be someone else you take the whole package
Their problems, worries and psychological baggage
Superman puts up a pretty good fight
But probably has nightmares about kryptonite
I have a sneaking hunch
Underdog has Alpo for lunch
I am the child God has spoiled
Or I would be married to Olive Oil
Though I’m not fast as Ricochet Rabbit
Being me has become a habit
The only thing I should want to be
Is more like Jesus; less like me.
Dennis Bazzell April 18th 2007
Categories:
pilgrims, confusion, hope, introspection, heart,
Form: