Best Rights And Wrongs Poems
Born into a family of fourteen
Never heard the words “I love you”
She left home a girl with little education
An army life she did pursue
She fell in love and married a soldier
Soon a mum of five
Tragedy struck early
At thirty seven her husband died
Widowed with five small children
In a time of limited support
She emigrated to Australia
On the ten pound pass she bought
She worked her life as a cleaner
Worked her fingers to the bone
To do what she had to for her children
Keep safe, educate and home
She was only a little lady
Four foot ten and no more
Her heart though was as big as the ocean
My role model, mother and mentor
She taught her children well
About life’s rights and wrongs
To show respect and be kind
Be determined and strong
In latter years we were best buddies
An unbreakable, eternal bond
Until heaven called for
My sweet little mum
A dark angel writes in the air,
“There will be no tomorrow for you.”
Then puffs of shiny cloud ebb,
Ebony night surrounds me.
I tremble in fear.
I hover between now and never,
as if I'm traversing a rough river
on one bank: life, on the other: death.
I feel an ebbing of nothingness,
like gulping down bad breath,
or gasping in asphyxia,
between a being and non-being,
sandwiched between heaven and hell.
Which way must I go?
Lord make the right choice for me,
for I tremble in fear.
How oft had I been told,
hell is an illusion, don't believe!
Now it seems like reality and I fear.
I see my past, its rights and wrongs,
a sort of blind imbalance,
not a hair is lost.
Where is the illusion now?
Or worse is it delusion and regret,
that I could have achieved much more?
Thus I tremble in fear.
Spirals of fog surround me,
whirls of fatal mists envelop me,
a long dark tunnel with a faint light ahead.
But what lies at the end?
An ephemeral awakening or an eternal damnation?
What weapons are left for such a fight?
I can only give my soul up and pray:
O Lord, I trust in Thee.
I fear no more.
I believe our Constitution reigns-
good order must prevail;
that our Bill of Rights remains intact
to guard our freedoms shared.
And that our hard-earned Flag stands tall-
honored as our freedom won;
that supportive love for country should
dwell deep within each heart-
and our brave warriors are given thanks
for true service done.
I believe in freedom of free speech
and bodily defense;
for the right to worship as we can
without the fear of scorn.
For the support of civil service workers-
as our police
and firefighters grant us safety-
clearly, giving up their own.
I believe that history should live-
and never be erased
by taking our fine statues down-
removing facts from our books.
We need those truths of our past to show
rights and wrongs; as we know,
some to date have left our sight- I want-
and wish they could return-
to show we are again, the great land
of the free- just like when
we were known as blessed with love
for country, liberty, and God.
March 19, 2021
Contest: If Your Birth Place-Country Was A Poem
Sponsor: Anoucheka Gangabissoon
Each couplet is considered one line and contains
a total of 15 syllables as required for Political Verse.
I broke each line up for a better visual presentation.
mossy vines served as camourflage
on a decaying gravestone, in old graveyard,
time not revealed the names on that stone,
was this the one for which I had been searching hard.
been looking back in history at my family tree
some I have found, was a pleasure to see
names of old folks that imaged me,
I am what I am, because of history.
this one dirty and unkempt, hidden away, seemed no one cared,
two names are gouged out of the stone
as though their life they hadn’t shared.....yet
someone had cared when their life was done.
what crime had they committed to be left alone,
had they gone against family rights and wrongs
looking up the names in history, it is shown
falling in love, to each other belonged
a hindu and a muslim so much in love
they married yet had to hide this fact,
shamed, their family no longer proud of,
died together in a suicidal act.
no one to care for their blessed names
on this gravestone, covered in vine,
who are the guilty ones who bares this blame,
caring in future for this plot, will be mine.
Contest : camourflage me a poem
Theme used :mossy vines served as camourflage
on a decaying gravestone, in old graveyard,
This poem to be entered in Take the dagger from my heart, please Contest
penned 4 August 2016
"
someone to care N/A
Contest Camouflage Me A Poem
Finalized 8/10/2016 12:00:00 AM
Born into a family of fourteen
Never having heard the words “I love you”
She left home a girl with little education
An army life she did pursue
She fell in love and married a soldier
Soon a mum of five
Tragedy struck early
At thirty seven her husband died
Widowed with five small children
In a time of limited support
She emigrated to Australia
On the ten pound pass she bought
She worked her life as a cleaner
Worked her fingers to the bone
To do what she had to for her children
Keep safe, educate and home
She was only a little lady
Four foot ten and no more
Her heart though was as big as the ocean
My role model, mother and mentor
She taught her children well
About life’s rights and wrongs
To show respect and be kind
Be determined and strong
In latter years we were best buddies
An unbreakable, eternal bond
Until heaven called for….
My beautiful,sweet ,little mum
The dawning day is like an open door
for voyagers adrift in living stream
to waken from the dream asleep no more.
When out of slumber’s seas we’re cast ashore
and consciousness resumes its heady beam,
the dawning day is like an open door.
With dialectic feet upon the floor
the thinker frames a philosophic scheme
in lieu of wakening asleep no more.
Stargazers, poets, let their fancies soar
into the realms beyond what things may seem,
for dawning day is like an open door.
Though myriads divinities implore,
within our being lies the path supreme
to reach awakenment asleep no more.
Deep wisdom handed down from ages yore
can teach us of enlightenment’s true gleam.
The dawning day is like an open door
to waken from the dream asleep no more.
~ Harley White
* * * * * * * * *
Inspiration was derived from the following writing by Nichiren Daishonin…
“The ordinary people, who inhabit the nine realms of dharmas, are wholeheartedly immersed in the sleep of the unenlightenment of not wanting to know. They are drowned in the dream of living and dying, as well as having forgotten what the wakefulness of the enlightenment of the original state is all about. They cling at all costs to what is going on in the dream. And they stray from one darkness to the next.”
~ Nichiren Daishonin (1279)
From ~ “A Collation of the Layers of the Various Teachings of all the Buddhas of the Past, Present and Future as to Which Specific Doctrines are to be Discarded or Established” (So Kan Mon Sho) ~ translated by Martin Bradley
[See site at dharmagateway.org]
This writing has also been translated as ~ “The Teachings Affirmed by All Buddhas Throughout Time” (Sokanmon Sho)
“Common mortals of the nine worlds are asleep in the mind’s innate delusion. Lost in a dream of the sufferings of birth and death, they forget the reality of original enlightenment. Attached to the rights and wrongs within their dream, they move from darkness into greater darkness.”
~ Nichiren Daishonin (1279)
There is a lady
In my Soups,
She writes poetry
As she stoops
To think about philosophy
Or talk about life's mystery.
And everytime I read her songs,
I must use the dictionnary
To understand the rights and wrongs
Of her deep dip-in poetry:
I sent her back
A bomb attack !
There are rights and wrongs, or so it seems,
in the most outlandish fancy flights.
When we’re asleep even in our dreams
there’s an awareness of wrongs and rights.
Yet are they the same for all of us?
Perhaps in our deepest inward core
far off from frivolity and fuss
there’s a source profound that knows there’s more…
To thyself be true, ‘tis said, but what
is self– a semblance that dwells within
behind a door that is often shut
amidst the incessant daily din?
We gaze at the stars but lack insight
into inner realms that shape our fate
through mindless passions that we ignite,
then realize too little too late.
What wisdom can save us from ourselves?
Could guidelines showing which path to take
lie in ancient books on dusty shelves?
Our future destiny is at stake.
Drowning in darkness, blind to the way
of where our true devotion belongs,
we drift unseeing through night and day
clinging to relative rights and wrongs.
Lost in the dream of our mortal plight,
we’re fast asleep in delusion’s spell,
innate, along with enlightened light.
Will humans awaken? – time will tell…
~ Harley White
* * * * * * * * *
The inspiration for the poem is from the writings of Nichiren Daishonin, in particular, the writing called, “A Collation of the Layers of the Various Teachings of all the Buddhas of the Past, Present and Future as to Which Specific Doctrines are to be Discarded or Established”…
http://www.dharmagateway.org/chapter4.htm
http://www.dharmagateway.org/
http://www.dharmagateway.org/why_we_recite.htm
Nam Myoho Renge Kyo means to devote our lives to and found them on (Nam[u]) the Utterness of the Dharma (Myoho) [entirety of existence, enlightenment and unenlightenment] permeated by the underlying white lotus flower-like mechanism of the interdependence of cause, concomitancy and effect (Renge) in its whereabouts of the ten [psychological] realms of dharmas (Kyo).
We live in this place this world
This age it's time, wherein ebbs as flows
Rights and wrongs, are poured sometimes pounded
Into our eyes; far too expanse be they to itemize...
These twisted lies or perhaps, anothers disguise ?
Sin, is a multi-coloured hat worn amid ironics
Assembling dance and sway; Love, is the only thing
Beyound all things, that I know to be pure as absolutely true.
To the poetic community
This message to you, humbly, from me
To those with that fire burning inside
The portrayals that create this image alive
And to those that refused to bleed
From wounds of battle and scars that seed
With emotional hurt, and the tears that soaked
Within our earth, and forever in dirt
This is my message to the all of you
The few, the fire, the deepened desire
I wish for you to join with me
A new, a profound, a distinct creative society...
The place, a spot, for us to belong
This divinity, that can change society
To right their unanswered wrong
Thus in my humility
I ask of you to share with me
To reach beyond our tempered glee
This message, my words to the uncommon man
Within your intuition, you'll understand
To the Aries with fire in their hands
To the Taurus, Virgo, and Capricorn man
With the lead of a Leo, whose ego, loves command
And in the faith of Aquarius, our humanitarian man
The nurturing Cancer, the opposing Scorpio, and the addictive Piscean
Self justified Libra, over spoken Gemini, and the travel loved Sagittarian
All our Zodiacal signs, all hand in hand
Join with me, beyond these words and beyond this land
In our creative mind, we are the uncommon man
So email, comment on the rights and wrongs
And never tire, share your fire, words fueled desire, our passionate songs
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a new creative society...
Have I been so loving,
That she is impressed,
And starts to think of one thing,
"Is there someone else?"
Is it interrupting,
When I've only yelled,
To whisper sweet nothing.
Which makes her compelled?
Should they take off running?
Am I quite the demon,
Quiet, cool, and cunning,
Not dating anyone?
Truly I repent;
I have my rights and wrongs;
Am I not your friend?
Do I not belong?
The book describes a battle that included African American soldiers in the Union army who, in spite of the controversy, were very instrumental in the success of building a tunnel and igniting a massive explosion that proved strategic in a major victory against the Confederate army.
Our lives are often presented with adversities and challenges that will shake the foundations on which we were built. However, if we remain focused, enriching winds of courage will blow our way in many forms. I experienced such enrichment when I read the novel, The Battle of The Crater, by Newt Gingrich and William R. Forstchen. I was able to draw from this novel three important lessons that strengthened and reinforced my entire belief system about the civil war in America.
Lesson #1. Facts and truths can be delayed, denied and revised, contrived, or even covered up and ignored. However, truth can blaze its own trail through a stormy wilderness of lies, more lies, and distortions. Truth, in essence, is Divine and even if tosed to the bottom of the sea, it will not die but resurface.
Lesson#2. The powers that be may often abuse their authority, allowing personal vendettas to ruin their command. But such powers cannot stand on their own crumbling feet and therefore will implode. Without regard for recognition, nor for what others do, I am to always put my best foot forward when the opportunity arises.
Lesson#3. In the final analysis, it is God and not men who get to decide what to put in and what to leave out. God, not men, has the final word on 'rights and wrongs', and He determines who is on the right side of history. After all, God Himself defines and records not just the facts but determines the true meaning of history. After all, History is really HIS STORY.
02102018FBMTPS Contest, Life Lesson From A Favorite Novel, Line Gauthier; 3P; Novel, The Battle of The Crater, by Newt Gingrich and William R.Forstchen
Stupidity It breaks through the
Strong columns of overbearing walls
The ethical moral
of rights and wrongs
Surrounded by the
so called profound injustices
That were never stopped
Sharing the immoral suffrage
Stealing the innocence
That you were never given the chance
By the lords heavenly call
Innocence unspoken of the truth
tarried by the stupidity
broken down by
the unnecessary comments of
the many few
deep regret
through the surging pain
the unlawful break- ins of the soul
losing ones sense of morals
through stupidities
one of Its Greatest and outstanding charms
Stupidity
Love of Art
You pick up your pencil
Start off with a dot.
Who knows where you'll go
From that small little spot.
Maybe a tall mountain?
Or a tiny fish in the sea?
A scenery of beauty ?
Or a funny looking tree?
Perhaps a little doodle
That makes no sense at all?
What about a great big ship
Shooting a cannonball?
There are no rights and wrongs
When it comes to the love of art.
Let it come through your emotions
Let it come straight from your heart.
I was never known to be flamboyant
more arcane from being quite quiet.
My best asset in business matters
was my intercessor abilities with
investigating those problems which
arise between the rights and wrongs.
My life has been bittersweet in many
ambivalent and quintessence ways.
The immolation of another to save
one's self is absolutely wrong. It is
like being with a married woman so
luscious in her sensual sexualities
and getting caught up in a less then
cerebral moment.
Those people who like to be very touchy
feely in a friendly way are looked upon as tactile.
What happens to their mindset when suddenly
they are befallen by a quiescent problem that
takes there ardent mobility away!