Best Programmes Poems
Mother Teresa
She is the mother of every poor people, injured people, ordinary people...
Always we remember the great news
'Mother Teresa will get the Nobel Peace Prize.'
It was one of the best moment in our life...
She lived in our city Kolkata (Calcutta) .
She ate our Bengali foods.
She loved us so much...
One day, I was twelve years old
I met her at Mother House along with my parents.
I looked at her heavenly eyes.
I touched her sacred feet and hands.
I heard her divine speeches.
I love her innocent smile.
I told her only the sentences,
'You are the mother of the world,
Mother of my parents.
So you are my grandmother.'
My father hesitated. My mother was silent.
Mother Teresa said to me with smile,
'GOD BLESS YOU MY SON'
Today my eyes are full of tears
Mother, I miss you.
I love you so much....
SANDIP GOSWAMI, INDIA
(Mother Teresa founded the Missionaries of Charity, a Roman Catholic religious congregation, which in 2012 consisted of over 4,500 sisters and is active in 133 countries. They run hospices and homes for people with HIV/AIDS, leprosy and tuberculosis; soup kitchens; dispensaries and mobile clinics; children's and family counselling programmes; orphanages; and schools. Members of the institute must adhere to the vows of chastity, poverty and obedience, and the fourth vow, to give "wholehearted free service to the poorest of the poor".
Mother Teresa was the recipient of numerous honours including the 1979 Nobel Peace Prize. In 2003, she was beatified as "Blessed Teresa of Calcutta". A second miracle credited to her intercession is required before she can be recognised as a saint by the Catholic Church.)
Children with candy floss and wands of bright plastic,
Anticipation of the big top fantastic -
“Affordable family fun!”
The circus has come to town.
A carnival and a frisson of people,
The smell of the diesel,
It's magical and visceral –
Intense.
There's a girl in hoop earrings
Stands ready and steady and poised at the entrance,
Beckons our queue, guides us on through.
Later in sky blue and diamonds,
She’ll balance the line
Of the high tight rope walk.
To the right, a big burly man,
A wandering vendor of neon lit sabres -
“As you've never seen him before!”
Will throw a precision of knives at his wife.
Twenty years she has whirled in her satin and modesty chiffon,
On her own wheel of fortune.
To the left, there's a girl in an ordinary sweatshirt,
Wide spangled hairband, at a stand where pink sugar is spun.
Soon, she'll be spectacular!
Twirling on ribbons and ropes.
Belief suspended on the thrill of her peril,
Her grace.
We’ll be spellbound.
Sounds surround us as we take our seats ringside,
The beautiful boy selling programmes
Will descend,
Perform a daredevil act.
Our necks strained as we look
To the infinite blue of a tarpaulin sky -
Trapeze artist high -
He'll fly and he'll never grow older.
Dream big.
And then come the men,
Louder and bolder,
Selling bottomless buckets of popcorn and pop,
Sweet, salted and fizzy,
Between sets, they'll be busy.
A cascade of jugglers and clowns.
The big gestures of jesters and tumbling chaos -
“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls!”
And too soon the showtime is over,
We spill back out into the park,
Blinking into the afternoon,
Rare and recount the fleeting visions of awe and wonder.
Tomorrow the circus will have packed up and gone.
Leaving behind just a fairy circle of flattened grass
And the ghosts of muddy tyre tracks.
Smile.
Laugh.
Meditate,
Take deep breaths.
Clear your conscience,
Of all negative thoughts.
Wish away negative thought forms,
From other people.
Avoid people who belittle you
Or always criticise negatively;
Including friends, neighbours,
colleagues
And family.
Eat well.
Dress well.
Listen to good music.
Read good books.
Avoid drugs.
Know when to fight,
And when to flee.
Do what you love.
Believe in abundance.
Surround yourself with people with
similar ambitions.
Avoid trying too hard to please,
Impress or fit in.
Believe in love.
Love yourself;
Love those who love you.
Avoid being affiliated to groups full
of negativity
They will pollute your conscience.
Avoid horrifying news in the media,
Bad politics and programmes that
seek to
Control your choices.
Appreciate more, complain less.
Be slow to anger.
Learn to be patient.
Learn to see "setbacks" as
experiences.
Worry less about age, death and
money
And how you look like.
Avoid blaming parents, the
government and employers
For every "problem" in your life.
Whatever teachers, parents and
preachers say
Doesn't really define you.
Be open to change.
Believe that nothing lasts;
Including pain and pleasure.
Learn to doubt everything;
Including this poem.
You are now free.
Live your life.
Water Water everywhere,
We cannot live without it anywhere.
It is a vital resource,
Which is of utmost use.
But we pollute it and make it dirty,
Without thinking about the situation that without it we will
become thirsty.
Keep it clean or you will be sick,
Leading to so many diseases that will happen very quick.
It comes from clouds in the sky,
Falls on land for water supply.
We can neither add it
Nor subtract it.
For it is a continuous cycle of water
Which cannot be stopped ever.
We use water for so many things,
So why don’t we realise that it’s our duty to conserve before it
leads to its strange occurring.
Programmes and Social awareness have been made among
people about water conservation,
Which has taught many people that our tomorrow is saved only
when we do water preservation.
People are actively taking part in water conservation
By practicing rain water harvesting, afforestation and adopting
sprinkler irrigation.
~Deveshi Hans
Pause a brief moment, stop and think,
now go back in time, back to a time
before cars came along,
back to when you just had radio.
An age when one knew their neighbour
and travel was only as necessary.
The village bobby always knew where to look
and crime was just off the petty kind.
A time without the telly (quite amusing)
when families truly communicated.
No films or programmes putting ideas into heads
increasing the crime rate of much more terrible crimes.
Newspapers telling us what they think we want to hear
intruding into people's private space then,
showing their own distorted view of who we are.
Bringing to our attention all that is happening.
Now we come to the Crux, the heart of things
without these advances, some so miraculous
would we be better off without them?
I leave you, my reader to decide.
The atmosphere is electric with joyous anticipation
The musicians are readying themselves to perform
You know some of the pieces that are on the programme
You settle yourself down and switch off your phone.
The concert is starting - the atmosphere changes
An energy filters to all in the room.
A tuning of instruments, the looking at scores
Some rustling of programmes, a settling of bones -
The conductor emerges to a rapturous applause.
The greeting of musicians, old protocols fulfilling
This fuss gives importance to composers long dead
The excitement is rising – the audience is waiting - then
A gentle quiet plucking - a crash of brass cymbals -
Violinists synergistically wielding their bows.
Wind takes up some threads of the melody
Soprano in blue sings out from her soul
Her face is mirroring a wealth of emotion
Slow melody – a gradual build up - a crescendo sublime.
A solo on viola – entwined with some oboe -
Conductor is dancing – the harpist entrancing
Percussion joy-riding
- an excitement of sound
Invades your serenity –
Fills THE SPACE THAT’S WITHIN.
You sit up straight – alert to the music –
Absorbing it all with each cell of your being
A smile on his face, your companion leans over –
“Keep this in your mind for when you grow older,
It will delight you!”
Who is responsible
domestic violence?
in the home...
responsible for rape?
while bullying in schools
escalates?
fact anti-social behavior
begins in the home!
millions of excuses used
drugs-sex-mental illness-debt
alcohol-infidelity-uncompromising
ass-hole
why not blame stress!
to name but a few...
thats' new, slap on a label
anti-social cripple
self centered compelled
subservient with a death wish
co-dependant on a mission
many incapable of raising
families successfully
matching crime to criminal
sooner rather than later
people who want children
most should be screened
the ones that have violent
tendency maybe steralise
these...
protect the unborn spirit
this cycle of perdition
simply 'cause some can
protection remains
the question...
until we fill up our prisons
or doctors fill out prescriptions
or do drugs - prostitution
or some souls
simply disappear
abuse of the sexes disaster
children
lives destined for remand
some cultures self destructive
buck the system for a laugh
self discipline escapes them
some victims choose suicide
alternative families to the rescue!
marriages deplete
truth uncovered
primary social group
breaking down
mere survival havoc wreaks!
social injustice
social acceptance
to live in a relationship
without independence?
when we break the cycle?
we immerge stronger-
children safer
home wreckers
so yesterday
some sexual couples
complete disasters
I deserve a happy life
a happy life I've got
living without violence
is where we all need to start
repeat not the acts of
your fore mothers forefathers
the violence does not work
mental physical verbal abuse
is a hostile mind at work
he's weak disqualified from life
primal evil reactivated strife
programmes of violence repeated
not strong enough in mind deleted
disrespected, feared, without
honor in most cases cannot repair
don't be a victim, of archaic hatred
suffer little children NOT!
this world though numb
Is nevertheless disgusted
authorities ears to the ground
we have heard your cries aloud
take it from one who knows
let all that s@%t go!
don't repeat their mistakes
look inside make new choices
you decide fill your life with
love...
...or misery will connect the dots
Gargling, a gargoyle’s groan gulps
From the bilingual blackness of TV,
A clockwork advertisement pulps
Knowledge into your worn mind free
Of charge. Nothing but gobbledegook
Everywhere, an insistent humming bee
And you just volunteered for the hook.
You can’t understand it, but still can see
That it’s appealing. Someone wants it.
We now return you to your film with Mr T,
But subtitled. There’s nothing to do but sit,
enjoy – all else is static - and sweatily agree.
Your mind is a sad wastebasket of re-runs;
Rom-coms galore, dubbed films about keys,
Action films with loud explosions and guns.
Poor translation aside, I enjoy foreign Telly.
I’m a string of byte notations
From your CPU
Calculating information
In a blink of an eye, for you
I pull in at the station
On your motherboard
To catch a system bus
CAD, is what it’s called
There's three routes I can take
Control, address or data
Depending on the freight
It arrives a nano later
Two more important parts
On this PC station
Are the (GPU), graphics card
And memory modulation
The RAM is where I store
Temporary numeral data
To complete a task for sure
For you sometime later
The graphics processor unit
Is the place of acceleration
Sending pictures to your screen
In 3D Animation
There’s a special kind of storage place
Which is called, a hard drive
Keeping window’s very safe
Where your programmes hide inside
Now, I can make a programme
But that’s different thing
If you want to learn the basics
Just type a simple string
For those that don’t yet understand
I use a binary code
From the central processor
I then take it and load
So next time you turn me on
Just think and be-aware
I work a lot, like you my friend
And I’m here to store and share
© Copyright 19th August 2013
K.C.Leake
Frozen In My Hour Glass
I pressed the button of facebook
And read- Memories Five Years Ago
An unforgettable day!
Every moment of that day
Is frozen in my hour glass
My life had taken a spin
Everyone was in a flutter
My institution was all decorated
In fresh blooms and rose petalled floor
The vrooming of motorcades and sirens outside
Limousines entered Our well guarded fort
Photographers excitedly adjusting their lenses
Tabloids in numbers crawling over the other ant like
The doors opened, the commandoes
The security guards rushed forward
And out alighted our much awaited
Nation's royal guest with her entourage
Smiling and waving, handshakes and pleasantries,
The Duchess of Cornwall!
I moved forward with my Director
To welcome the uncrowned heir
Who visited us to see the amalgamation
Of educational and cultural research
Between the two homes of Kohinoor
The Duchess beside me and I beside the Duchess
She in all sobriety and I in all glow
To escort and exemplify the integration
Of our countries over the next one hour-
The minutes were fixed-
Via cultural programmes and presentations
That One day remains etched against
The thousands of days in my professional life
The fairy tales books of kings and queens
Had opened a new leaf for that one hour
Like Mary Poppins I glided and flew
In a surreal dream world
Flashed in the newspapers
To be engraved in history
October 7, 2015
Competition: Most Important Event In Your Life
Sponsor: Nayda Ivette Negron
I have always wondered about the moments that are supposed to define our lives.
Is it that moment when we are just born?
The name that has been chosen for us?
The first words we utter?
Or even the first baby steps that we take?
When does that defining moment in our life begin?
Does it happen at age 10, 20, 30, 40 or 50?
Does it even have to do with the two legal ages of 18 and 21?
Or does each age bring about a new defining moment?
Are our live defined by the schools we are enrolled in?
Our performance in the class, is that considered as a factor?
Peer group fraternisation and orientation?
Or the university courses we choose?
Are our lives defined by the people we listen to when they speak?
The kind of programmes we watch on TV?
The kind of music we listen to?
Or even the type of books we read?
Do we even consider our career paths as our defining moments?
Or the decision on where we choose to reside?
Are our life partners considered as part of the process?
Or even our sexual orientation?
Does fate have a hand in our defining moments?
Or maybe we can call it destiny
Is belief an integral part of the system?
Or can we just sum everything to the luck of the draw?
How do we determine our defining moments in life?
When do we consider who helps us define our moments?
Or where our defining moment will be?
Or even when our defining moment will happen?
I am done asking questions.
As for me, I have only one thing to say.
My defining moments happen every minute
What about you?
> My parents gave me advice. Of the dead only speak nice. Now if I heard right someone is being critical of Sir Terry Wogan, and that is not right. So as The Mad Author I have been called to write in his defence, and this is what the writing bug helped me write.
The Eurovision Song contest
Sir Terry Wogan spoke the truth.
The Eurovision Song contest is a joke.
It did not need Sir Terry, at it to poke.
As all could see, it was a joke.
No weirder sight, did I see.
Unless watching children’s programmes on TV.
Silly costumes, men/women too.
Or were the women, men? I could not tell.
But Sir Terry described them all quite well.
Of course, the British were not liked.
Others are jealous, all are alike.
We fought most of them in years gone by.
Yes and won the final battle cry.
But as for the Eurovision Song contest.
Best call it one of fancy dress.
As of the singing, Sir Terry was quite right.
As a Song Contest, it was not right.
I think we would have stood a better chance.
If Sir Terry had sung, his floral dance.
And as daft, as daft, as that did be.
I’m sure it would, have maxed points for GB.
And that’s the truth, do you agree?
The Eurovision Song contest is now naught.
Without Sir Terry, God bless his sort.
Now, as GB in EU might come out. No more need we rant and shout.
Or even dish the money out.
I do not know why but in copying and pasting the entire script has appeared with red underlining.
Even my explaination has and to be honest I cannot prevent it happening. It was not there in the text before. Oh well onwards and upwards lol (The mad Author)<
It was as if someone had turned on the light .
I must have been about ten years old when my Mother sent me to the shop.
She liked Jim Reeves and I went to pick up his 45, 'Take my hand precious lord'.
A month ago I heard that song and the care free days of the sixties flashed back into my mind.
Back then there were no computers, mobile phones or social media.
People were friendlier and there was more respect for others.
We watched black and white T.V with programmes like Doctor Who,The Saint,and Rawhide.
We went everywhere by bus and sometimes walked as we had no family car.
The sixties were for me the best years to live through for music and an easier way of life.
All it took was a song to take me back to that golden era but sadly now only a distant memory.
Written on 28th September 2018
For ten lines of what it was like back then
poetry contest sponsored by Silent One.
Back in my day shell suits were the latest fashion
And I made sure I wore my diamond socks with a passion
The only sky I knew was the one up above my head
No dvd player, just a betamax had to do instead
The only laptop I knew was the tray my dinner was served in
No sat nat to direct us, just maps and a lot of guessing
My social network involved playing outdoors with my friends
If I had an important message there was no text for me to send
Instead I would simply go and knock on the door
And enjoy a good game of hopscotch, drawn neatly on the floor
If I wanted to listen to music I held my boom box to my ear
And I felt like a millionaire in my latest pair of L.A Gear
No ipod to shuffle or touch just my sony walkman
No google to look for answers, just the library to depend on
No Ipad, no playbook, just a good old storybook
It may even be in hardback if I had any luck
No freeview, no Virgin, I was lucky to even have colour tv
And a rubiks cube would suffice, never mind an XBOX 360
It was all about hammer time and wearing those pants
And the theme tune to Fraggle Rock I would happily chant
No cyber bullying, only cyber I knew was the tamagocchi pet
No loading plates into the dishwasher as it hadn't been invented yet
No cd player, my cassettes were the in thing
And to have a sovereign ring on every finger meant you had some bling
The A Team, crossroads, tiswas and happy days was the programmes I watched
No series links or reminders to watch programmes like Lost
No rewinding the tv or pausing whilst I nip to the loo
Instead I had to ask someone and hope that they have a clue
No Adidas for me, just my trusted bum bag
My girls world doll and scrunche's were things I just had to have
In my day the only kid I wanted was a cabbage patch kid
Not a real one so that in a hostel I can live
No PS3, no Wii, no Vita or Nintendo DS 3d
Just my good old NES on my four channel tv
Care bears, the moomins, playschool and dangermouse
No crimewatch to make me afraid to be in my house
In my days if I was rude I would get a good smack
And I couldn't dare say the clothes you just bought me were whack
No microwave dinners, No chinese takeaway for me
Saturday soup was the best, one big bowl balancing on your knee
The 80's and the 90's I enjoyed it while it did last
But every now and again I take a glimpse of the past
Open the floodgate and you will see
You will witness forbidden desires on their spree
Priests will be seen lying drunk in bars
Adolescents will speed up their sport cars
Kids will eat loads of chocolates everyday
Leaving their children mothers will go on holiday
Students will relax on the eve of exams
Computers will not bother to execute programmes
People will dance naked in broad daylight
Worms will fly to reach a new height
Moths will hide their faces in darkness
Bees will distribute honey to all with eagerness
Sweeter will taste the fruits which are forbidden
Open the floodgate and wonders will happen...