Best Social Order Poems
Our lives are not immune to the impact of time,
nor is our mind between the tensions of love and hate.
That's why I curse this wanderlust heart -
still searching for that wandering star.
without a guide - without a love to call my own.
I try not to look back, but sometimes certain scents,
remind me of things that saw me as a minority.
A summer heart misplaced in winter's wickedness,
a child frozen in the passages of a stolen childhood.
Ingredients of my life are a juxtaposition of flavours,
finding purity among diseased hearts,
fighting against principles of corrupt minds
and I hurt nobody - until they pushed me,
it was never about the physical - but the mental.
Silence is different in adolescence -
suppressed into a protective bubble,
you reject the harshness of existence.
My small hands could not hold the burdens,
so I was mute as demons slayed my father,
his anger drowning my brothers into darkness.
Tears of my mother, dehydrated my soul,
so I grew like a tree with broken branches -
sometimes naked, sometimes an abundance of green.
Even in an obscure world of nightmares,
my heart was a light bulb, full of dreams -
but misplaced in a place of misunderstanding.
I adopted silence in the violence,
because I struggled with reality's fabrications.
Fatherless,
I found acceptance in the war on the streets,
where love was poison, but hate brought prosperity.
Only surviving due to my father's name,
yet I knew it was an unwinnable game.
My hands were pacifying guns,
so I learned to exist without bullets.
I was a black sheep in a strange white herd,
opposing shepherds who couldn't tolerate me.
A clean soul in a dirty social order -
a peaceful heart seeking a place to call home.
Silence is a choice in adulthood.
I used to ignore the pain from unhealed wounds,
but today the inner child screams and shouts,
because oppressors can no longer mute my tongue.
Death taught me not to be bitter,
stubborn fingers how to bleed ink onto paper -
showing compassion in an ugly world.
If life was so simple, we wouldn't look at it differently.
Our perceptions are based on what we have learned,
what was, what is to come and what we search for.
Where you end up depends on how you deal with the past.
On the edge
Slightly out of vision
Chaos
No, thank you
I’ll take my social order
On rye
Hold the onions
Hey, I wanted rye
Every day reminds us
Untidy chaos intervenes
Deny it and go mad
Face it and imagine war
To be involved in life is to be involved in battle
There is no escape
Cave dwelling aesthetics are fools
Thus sings the auspicious one
Learn to struggle
Honorably
Graciously
Nobly
It’s not about the win
Which, in any event, is
Ultimately
Futile.
No need for violence or aggression
A passive acceptance of oppression
A powerful tool for social protest
To be peaceful and not violence many will resist
It presumes the intent of social change
Some believe not using belligerence is insane
Nonviolence is a synonym for pacifism
When you hear this word, you associate it with Civil Rights and racism
Nonviolence is not inaction it is the patience to win
You gain a lot of support, love, respect, and friends
See many people do not like change
So many have used diverse methods in their peaceful campaigns
Dr. Martin Luther King seen peace and equality to all races in his dream
Mahatma Gandhi helped India win its independence through bigotry that was extreme
I think that we should inevitably re-shape the social order in a lack of prejudice form
If we constantly use peace, we can weather many of these racial motivated storms
To listen to another's point of view is largely dependent on reciprocity
Not injustice, hate, and apathy
That is what makes me so angry
Remember what Jesus’ says, "love thine enemy”
"Nonviolence means avoiding not only external physical violence but also internal violence of
spirit. You not only refuse to shoot a man, but you refuse to hate him."
Martin Luther King
Treat people as if they were what they ought to be and you help them to become what they
are capable of being.
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
An eye for an eye only makes the whole world blind.
Mahatma Mohandas K. Gandhi
The eye,a sign the
unwise can't comprehend
Forged from the world's
origin,an
illumination in darkened
minds,for the
enlightened ones like
Leonardo da Vinci,Isaac
Newton,John Milton....etc.
The eye is a tree
with many branches like
Priory of Scion,Knight
templars,I.O.G.T,United
Nations,Masonic
Lodge,Music industry,
Politics,global economy,
etc
stretching beyond
human imaginations-felt
in all corners of earth.
The world is clothed
through wisdom from
above.
The eye,all seeing
sign,an invincible
emblem of power and
riches to the lion hearted
and loyal souls.
A seat of influence and
fame.
Creating the social order
through men of power....
Some see it as a
curse,others a blessing.
I feel it,the great eye is
everywhere watching
you!
These times are near their totality
It is not because of man’s impudence
It is not of man’s desire for change
It is just time, and time…
For the will of time’s maker
A time for newness
An epoch for a re-Earth
Time for reconciliation
An era of restoration of Eden
Time for oneness of purpose
Time for a new world system
And a new social order
A Time according to His promise
And In this Time,
Uprightness is to reside
...and
Mourning dew’s teardrops will dry
...and
Floras shattered spines will straighten
...and
Our mental tempests will dissipate
...and
The arid regions of our hearts will bloom
I hope to see you there...
K’ung Fu Tzu or Confucius his English name,
for centuries, brought China much dignity and fame.
Born in the state of Lu, now Province of Shantung,
a scholar of Asia, Chinese his native born tongue.
As a child, he held a make-believe temple ritual,
as an adult, love and learning became habitual.
Confucius was made a magistrate by Duke Zhao of Lu,
under his administration, the small city flourished and grew.
Bordering countries worried, Lu would get too strong,
Confucius resigned, so that the countries would get along.
Royal courts shunned Confucius, plotted to kill him,
He was arrested and jailed, his future looked very grim.
He sent word to a kindhearted king, in nearby homeland,
to rescue Confucius, a solution the king had planned.
Confucius shared ideas and teachings with royal notabilities,
who learned eventually of his distinguished abilities.
Only after his death did Confucianism commence,
everything he taught completely made sense.
Confucius bequeathed no writings or historical list,
but it is known that the “Record of Rites” exist.
“Record of Rites” contains anecdotes about his teachings,
a complete collection of his students’ preachings.
There are three dimensions of human condition,
that totally make up the Chinese tradition.
Self, community, and tradition are Confucian spirituality,
and endless teachings of human morality.
Father and son were held in high admiration,
since man was the family’s root foundation.
Ruler and minister maintained social order,
developed guidelines of human social border.
Husbands controlled the family and his wife,
she had no opinion in her family or her life.
Elders were held in higher regard than the child,
since great wisdom held their social order more mild.
The last of the social order was the true friend,
from which the human could fully depend.
These five bonds were developed for flourishing souls,
and the boundaries that were set for Confucian goals.
Confucius says; never give a sword to a man that can’t dance,
and real knowledge is to know the extent of one’s ignorance.
Copyright © 2010 By Caryl S. Muzzey
Fifth Place Winner ~ "Broad Horizons” Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Deborah Guzzi
June 30, 2010
My suject is "The Five Bonds of Confucianism"
He would have dissolved the congress party
Would have stopped at once all its festivity
Certainly would have gone on hunger strike
And, would have, launched a blistering attack.
He would have wholly banned the sacred khadi
That some time ago symbolized utmost sanctity
According to him it stood for human dignity
And no present day politician is found worthy.
He would have removed all sorts of reservations
And would have urged people to spurn such sops
Encouraged developing self respect minus props
To earn bread thro’ honest labor of sweat drops.
He promptly would have stopped all pensions
At the moment enjoyed by the freedom-fighters
Would have told them to return the allowances
As serving the motherland calls for great sacrifices.
He would have fought against all injustices
Would have put full stop to discriminations
Which divide the people and the human race
And create a schism in a fragile social order.
He would have banned entry of all the Mnc’s
And encouraged forcefully all rural industries
Making the village development a focal point
That aims for growth and banishes unemployment.
He would have stoutly advocated family planning
Convincing the public to practice non-indulgence
To help the nation prosper with self-reliance
And avoid facing consequences of dependence.
The state of affairs is so stomach-churning today
It is good that he attained martyrdom on that day
Were he alive to witness the present day nonsense
He might have sought the slayer pleading death.
some are different
those with handicaps
handicaps is the strange word
we call to hinder
holdback and impede
burden or limit
where are the rules
those which say these
are the restricted
and we normal
a gripping fills my chest
when i watch a crowd
react to one we label
physically challenged
this human race
depending on shortcomings
to nurse our psyche
reaching the top by
stepping on
the least of these
i wish to meet this man
named social order
to tell him how
incredibly witty he is
to have us all fooled
swallowing the conception
that those without blemish
are superior
i will smile to myself
when social order
meets the creator
the creator of
the least of these
Hello. I am Jim Crow, and I was born in America after the Civil War and met my fate many years later after much civil unrest. You may have never encountered me, but some things about me you might already know. I was not a real person, but rather a caricature designed to berate, distort, and ridicule an entire race of people. I represented a system, behind which stood millions of people. They gave birth to and upheld me proudly, using me to implement their blood-letting ideas.
I caused lots of pain, inflicted massive wounds, and was responsible for the death of many innocent people. A psychological nightmare, I had no desire to change; but I was left with little to no choice. You see, people create the systems they want to live under. People and their ideas changed; perhaps others simply disappeared to fight another day. So I also changed, and more precisely, also disappeared. Most of my closest friends would rather pretend that I never existed.
I resided in the southern region and inflicted innumerable emotional scares on certain people. My social order demanded that there be separation of Blacks and Whites. I know. You heard and read about "Apartheid" in South Africa; in America, it was me, Jim Crow.
I must say that it was not my idea to talk about these things. I along with others were given the theme, "Let's Talk About It", and was asked to write something about abuse. So I decided to write about emotional abuse, the type I'm most familiar with. I inflicted lots of it; so I ought to know; I'm Jim Crow. The inhumane treatments to my fellow humans are too numerous to note. I never believed they were humans anyway. Realistically, the only thing inhuman was me, Jim Crow.
As history now reveals, I am no longer around, needed, or desired. I wrecked and ruined lives, causing havoc upon generations of people until the whole nation said, "Enough!". I'm Jim Crow.
8317PS,Let's Talk About It, Richard L., 1P Personification
In my game of life
I play sometimes against,
and sometimes with,
Time as Other player
Playing against
seems to have bad odds of feeling like a winner,
while playing with time
feels like we both win,
at least some Time,
especially if we simultaneously stretch
our love for gaming
together
more than apart.
In my Evolution Game,
playing with and against Time as Other,
my rules emerge natural laws of healthy
and unwealthy
economic trends
and social order
and political balance
witnessed by elder spirit voices,
iconic memories of past plays
with diastatic/static
diastolic/purgative
evolving rules of vocational recreation with co-passion play.
Nutrient rules flowing through my veins
and out through rivers of arteries of positive/negative trees
deep fertile cuts and folds,
articulating primal neural streams with suboptimizing substreams,
swelling mainframe-economy with synaptic political revolutions
dispelling cooperative win-sufficiency contentment,
more sustainable midway rest from playing against
one
or more Other.
Now, in Time's anthro-game of evolving life
s/he plays sometimes against anger and fear memories,
and sometimes with love and peace future investment
with winwin outcome intent,
co-arising regeneratively healthy Anthro-Egos as EarthTribe players,
also running coincidental WinWin, WinLose, and LoseLose
comedic and strategic and tragicn
naturally emergent health functions and dis-easing pathology
with transitionally revolutionary co-incarnate bilateral form
as indigenous anthrocentric PlayNice frequencies
of EarthTribe Time.
In our love of healthy environment-winning games
we play sometimes against win/win
inside/outside communication stretching regenesis,
and sometimes with win/lose Othering
unnatural unloving death-wishes
The reverse of
strategic nutrient-nurture optimization players,
whenever and wherever we can hunt and haunt them up,
make them up as iconic gods and goddesses,
as necessary to harvest win-winnowing wealth
together
better than apart.
In this funny little evolution game,
it is wrong because impossible
to harvest winnings we have not seeded,
as individual ego players
and as a potentially EarthTribe
of team-life is for love players
and not lose/lose hate sayers.
“We learn from history that we learn nothing from history.”
George Bernard Shaw (1856-1950) Nobel Prize
Part One
Blue blood gushes when heroes die
From gory wounds on battlefields
Not in castle intrigues when for a lie
Crowns use commoners as shields.
A royal house does not construct itself
After centuries have broken tradition
Or on formal rules on how to name itself
Nor on who should follow in succession.
A true prince re-possesses the land first
Takes for his witnesses native-born citizens
Bids them follow his will out of dire thirst
Not as the self-crowned leader of denizens.
To be born a Kshastriya is not a privilege,
The birthright is even an act of sacrilege
If he who dons the crown scorns the people;
A spurned poem in the culled florilege.
In the blown sliver of land at Great Bharat’s feet
No one knows what Tamil line came to greet
Found refuge and took throne to announce a reign
Nor helas to make much of a glorious feat.
Kings are not born to hoist the castial banner,
Rather had they earlier scaled the social ladder
Through heroic deeds by protecting the masses;
Chieftains peer-elected to top the social order.
(...continued in Part Two)
Let me put your parenting skills
Under the microscope, my thrills!
You share your food with the young
You eat, regurgitate for the fledging
What childcare, what love & nurturing
You, bird parents take turns food hunting
I adore how you bring food to the nest
You feed the chicks as if you don’t rest!
You, dogs and cats hunt and share the kill
Mother dogs help the pups to eat to the fill
I see animals bring down prey and feast
In a social order, in packs, this, that beast
I see parent animals teach their young
To walk, hunt & who says that`s wrong?
Apes & simians feed each other when caring
For the wounded or the ill, when …yes, dating!
I don’t know whether elephants teach their young
Courting, but yes, food choices & a good tongue!
The universe is a mercurial cloud.
Against its overbearing chaos,
I have only my words.
They are never solutions,
Only questions.
Always selective in their attention.
Always filters screening out
The subatomic assault.
I have only my words.
I scroll through cable channels.
I download all the apps.
How do I ponder a musical chord?
How do I arrange an ordered thought?
The social order is our agreement,
Our consensus on what exists.
For three hundred thousand, of five billion years,
A fact never challenged by science or fears;
Upright Homo-Sapiens, embodied two genders,
Each body clearly favoring, the other body’s splendor.
But alas as we humans, have improved and evolved,
We decided old constructs, should now be dissolved;
By strong social order, and educated means,
Replaced by enlightenment, and the Science of Genes.
In a newfangled world where anything goes,
And dare not be challenged, questioned, opposed;
Men can be women, women now men,
A surgical metamorphosis, with the stroke of a pen.
As we blur the lines separating, factual truth,
Eliminating inequalities, deemed clearly uncouth;
Despite our clear difference, in gender and sex,
Fair treatment of genders, includes mutual respect!
We owe our world's progress, to mindsets deemed fair,
Of gender equality, that eliminates despair;
And instead of confusion, melding genders the same,
We should celebrate our differences, in far more than name.
The tributes keep pouring in and my heart is singing a wonderful hymn
The lines are getting longer and the passions are getting stronger
They stormed the streets in a hundred thousand throng; people of all color and creed, husbands and wives holding hands and little children marching along with flowers tied up in bundle to express their love for the diseased queen. The flower memorial is swelling on every corner and the barricades are everywhere giving a touch to the social order.
They come from Europe, the Middle East, Australia and North America. They come from Latin America and the Caribbean; they come from Asia and Africa with gold and silver to show their respect to the queen. The airports are crowed and the hotels are full, all roads lead to London, by air, by sea on land and on foot. They come from France, Germany Italy and Spain, they are all there. The crowd is getting bigger and the passion is growing deeper and my heart is singing a silent tune
The procession began at balmoral estate when the Landrover suddenly broke through the gate carrying the body of the diseased queen and her only daughter accompanying her on the long journey from Scotland to Edinburgh and Buckingham palace in London, cruising through villages and town, farming communities and breakaway cities and the anxious crowd gather in the street showing their love for the queen. The Face of love, faces of pain, somber face, faces that have nothing to gain watch the procession as it journeyed through the winding street to its final destination. I could hear the whispers and the cries and now and again she pulled out a handkerchief to dry up the falling tears.
A sea of flowers converged in the square with a powerful message from the heart. I remember the queen from the start I can see her dainty smile and I imagine sitting with her for a while having a cup of tea. Just yesterday she was with me talking about her family and I am sitting here bearing the weight of her coffin. The dignitaries are coming to town, and they will meet at West Minister to pay homage to the queen. Everyone will meet at west minister Abby to pay the final respect to the queen and so the legacy of the daffodil lives on and the story of cactus hang on the window is showing its sorrow, And the lotus is dancing in the stream.