Generation Z is my child—our future.
I know them completely,
and yet I do not know them at all.
How strange, isn't it?
When they sleep, they do not wish to wake;
when they are awake, they do not wish to sleep.
Though they eat everything,
they have never learned
to snatch from others
or even to share with others.
How strange, isn't it?
They become doctors, engineers, scientists,
teachers, professors—so many things.
Yet they never let
the wandering minstrel,
the mystic within,
the music,
or the solitude of their hearts
fade away.
How strange, isn't it?
They never longed for marches,
protests, or blockades.
Yet they were driven to the streets,
and they never forgot
to raise their flaming torches.
They never sought power,
nor did they crave the throne.
With the dream of a radical transformation,
they are shaping a new tomorrow.
How strange, isn't it?
complaints unheard rise,
strikes,bands,blockades,clash in streets.
curfew cloaks the peace.
season's rain comes down-
no passage left to flow through;
ponds gone, all encroached.
barren hills lie still
rain rushes wild, rivers swelling
overflowing rage.
rain's soothing noise dreadful,
yet the fresh plowed fields waiting
for the green reborn.
frail cycle decays,
endless wait for cries to sound;
complaints long unheard.
When we lived beneath
The thatched-roof houses,
Curry cooked in earthen pots,
Flames burning from firewood gathered
From hills and thickets.
When bullock carts creaked
Under paddy loads,
Harvests reaped from fertile fields,
Bicycles ridden on dusty roads.
When the sound
Of hand-pounding paddy
Was heard from homes every day,
Women weaving at fly-shuttle looms
Sometimes till late at night
Then, in our land,
We helped one another-
Lives were simple and self-reliant.
Today, though we dwell
In grand concrete homes
And ride in cars of luxury,
We survive on grants from the Centre.
The food we grow falls far below our needs,
While blockades on the National Highways
Bring us untold pain .
Meanwhile, the gap between the rich and the poor
Continues to widen.
Today, the spirit we once knew fading -
The spirit of independance, equality, simple joys
Mutual help and cooperation.
(A revised verson of the poem When Life Was Simple posted earlier
The poem published in the poetry anthology DIVERSE VOICES :POETRYON HUMAN RIGHTS AND PURSUIT OF PEACE.)
We Live In The Future
By David N. Donihue
You want me more drunk than I’m willing
More bothered than is me
Throwing punches at preachers
post-Xanax spree
Yet we live in the future
Where peasants turn king
The voices of zeros
Heard by millions with ease
We live in the future
No one watches tv
Our outer reflects our inners
So all poets now rock bling
You might catch us all broken
Yet we are not what you see
Unlike the well-spoken villains
Who once ruled the blue-lined sheets
We live in the future
Where only hearts beat machines
Our spirits colliding
into dreams we’ve never seen
We dance in the wake of depression forgotten
Shun brokers of shame
Blockades to our peace
Our words are still valid,
Even when joyous and sweet
We live in the future
Where only hearts beat machines
So please rest assured
All poets now rock bling
•••
© copyright David Donihue 2023
From the beginning through all of our ancient civilisations slavery was an aspect
Until the arise of the irresistible force which removed this unmovable object
For in 1066 the law of the land, the England, forbade the ownership of man
Blockades of the Union Jack’s command
And today in this freedom we all stand.
Authors Note: Because Britain went after the impossible and people have no idea it happened.
He has great expectations and dreams
They are to be accomplished
Blockades and obstacles are to be dispersed
He is smarter than his wisdom and effort
He forces his way through
Pushing down, kicking and stepping
He is a man, a frog that cannot jump
But used to walk
But tries to jump like a frog
He always changes his party and loyalty
Anyway he is better than a toad
Which just likes to croak
But he is better than a tadpole
Which is still young with little experience
And no chance to jump
However I am hestitate to vote
And don't know what symbol
To choose, to cross and to be loyal to
I'm just an old folk
So ignorant and innocent to politics all this time
And used to believe that
Only frog can jump vigorously
What is it like to cry?
All those blockades of mind made stone,
A river of emotions held beyond,
Making its own gateways through it all,
To come finally flowing out.
Down soft material,
Dropping to the ground,
Flooding everything around.
To cry is to let absolutely everything out,
All that you were trying to keep in,
Having no more strength,
And just breaking down.
People don't like to cry,
It makes them feel weak as if the tears,
Salty and damp,
Exposed them to all eyes that saw.
I think, however, its good to cry,
Even if it dries you out,
All those ghosts get set free,
And you feel relieved.
As if suddenly you're no longer carrying the world,
And just carrying your thoughts.
You need to cry,
Because when you let it all go,
Its like a wave of strength to your soul,
And then you feel free.
To find help,
To find hope,
To get better,
To climb from that deep hole,
And climb higher into the sky.
For they say, after a storm,
Comes clear sky,
And if you're lucky,
A rainbow will light up for you,
To smile down on you.
Guide you forth from the past,
Make way for the future,
Where no darkness is allowed.
The twelve zodiacs
In the Chinese calendar
Signifies twelve potentialities
Twelve characters
Twelve charms
All will contribute to
The varieties and success of the world
One may believe that
The pig - simple and easily satisfied are non-crime committing
The dog - alert for dangers give warning in times
The rooster-give morning calls for a fresh day work, so abiding and loyal
The monkey-inquisitive though, add laughters to cheer up the world
The sheep-a coat of protection from freezing and so hardships
The horse-galloping like a swift wind, symbolizing energetic will bring success
The snake-a winding movement to escape from blockades and hardships in a wise way
The dragon-signifies prosperity, and dreams will come true with hardworks
The rabbit-soft and humble in nature
The tiger-energetic and powerful
The ox-hardworking and enduring
The rat-active even in the darkness of misfortunes
These twelve distinguishing characters of mankind
Will decide the future of the world tomorrow
for some reason
around your fortress
you’ve built
insurmountable blockades
and from their safety
you thrive on lashing out
catapulting showers
of fireballs
and cannonballs
it took a while for me
to realize we were at war
I simply didn’t know
in hindsight it’s been going on for years
but I really truly didn’t know
I knew enough to keep my distance
and stay out of the firing range
you’ve always had me
walking on eggshells
why? I haven’t got a clue
after all these years
to tell the truth
somewhere along the way
I simply finally lost interest
so keep doing what you’ve got to do
and I’ll continue
liking you the way you are
the last of eggshell crumbs
have turned to lovely sand
and your fireballs
now look to me
like nothing less
than fireworks display
AP: Honorable Mention 2022, Honorable Mention 2021
Submitted on June 16, 2021 for contest ALL YOURS (JUN 17) sponsored by BRIAN STRAND - 1ST PLACE
Look at this irony. Stroke of fate
So cruel that I can’t breathe so straight!
Curfew’s cleansed city’s air,
Pollution fairly fair,
Yet, my mask blockades both fresh-air gates!
Locked in house, halfway hung,
I can’t hail city’s lungs,
COVID’s hijacked all life, love or hate.
_______________________________________
Happenings |23.05.2021|
Poet’s note: On account of restricted movements, part curfew, curtailed traffic has improved the quality of city’s air— a blessing in disguise. Yet alas the citizens can’t enjoy this stroke of luck. What an irony!
With honeyed comments, you absorb adulation in vain;
drinking it in like a congratulatory champagne.
Down your nose, you smoothly cajole;
Deft at choreographing leverage to reach a goal.
The effete man you put forth is cast in boorish airs -
Stealthily exuding to foil all players.
Irreproachable character, you claim in spades,
but to athwart interference you throw up blockades
Speaking in bitter tones, speeches full of lies suppressed -
churlishly angered with those that protest.
Colonies compressed
Tyranny their stress
Empires progress
Wealth by conquest
European dominance
Great Britain Spain France
Religion insurance
power the dance
Americas their settlement
unsettled through intent
Spain could not prevent
alike Britain lands went
French blockades and boats
aided break free hopes
As raids of history wrote
Tea they chucked from boats
Freedom justice for all
A land of all equal
This their global call
whilst slavery install
A land of dreams
and hopeful scenes
where slavery seems
to be unseen
Liberty for all came to be
this land sees all men equally
this land sees all men free
to black a land of slavery
Retirement comes, I'm at loose ends,
But blessed to have some loyal friends
From work, from church, from family,
And tennis, gym less formally,
A men's group too for two decades,
My social life had no blockades.
I hadn't started writing yet,
So not so many friends from Net.
In gyms, I met folk quite devout
For staying fit and working out.
I'd never been an athlete,
At first, routines were quite a treat,
Pumped iron and swam and grew quite strong,
But pressed too hard and worked too long,
Was plagued in fact by injury,
This latest gig a misery.
Wrecked both my shoulders swimming laps,
The older prone to such mishaps?
I know this now but then naive,
Sought no advice, did not conceive
My older body worse for wear,
Would soon require high-priced repair!
Each shoulder took six months to mend,
One wiser might not want to spend.
A health investment worth the price,
But time regained, I'd seek advice,
Before pursuing fitness so,
More balance lead to healthy glow
(Though I don't make Charles Atlas proud.)
Dare I to say these words out loud?
Just health! What need have I for fame!
Let me be me, where is the shame?
Brian Johnston
15th of June 2018
Earth was peaceful
In the time of remembering
Where the pasture looks so flourish
Childreen roam around the green-field
And they Cheers in an urban glory
Every where looks so beautiful in winter
Pitter-patter falls on you in the summer
There were zestfulness and lovely cool breezy
Comes the jealousy and greedy
The one that turn a blind eye
The one that eat from the pains of others
I mean the one that satisfy the Godfathers
A war range on the world
Not between continent nor race
Not even racism, a damnation on earth
There is a lot of rubbles
That comes from the oppressor
As we have seen with Palestine and Burma
As we have seen with Syria, Libya and northern Nigeria
Horrible death and some sold into slavery
Horrendous hating and severely killings
Blood splatter, metallurgy shard
Holocaust and ungodly blockades
Children famished and suffocate in a cubicle
A brimstone on the soil
Set by the powerful oppressors
Severely damages and
With brokens and burnt doors
No love again only hatred full the world
Killing in extreme colossal in the name of devil-god
The Earth sough, heaven looks so weary
The soil cry inaudibly.
Wherever I come
At home
Or outdoors
No shore nor apple
No cloud nor maple
Only boundaries to appall
The inexorable wall
Neither dream nor dance
You are allowed
Lance upon the wall
Stops you from being a sky
Where you can fly
The wall stands to deny
The world and the life
As threatening as a knife
If you dare to defy
And ask why
No reason no season
Just the dispensation
Not toward the ocean
No dancing a waltz
Submit to the walls
Can any one live
Like a free river
Singing swaying sweetening
Swelling shining shimmering
Filling and unfilling
In a democracy?
No, innumerable walls
Ready to befall
A city Labrador
Seeking an ice harbour
A slice of freedom
Some moments handsome
No leeway
Everyday is installed
Walled blockades
Of varied kind
In front and behind
Take it easy
We have to live
In a walled ecstasy
Wall and wall everywhere
Baked black despair
No room to breathe
Pollution free air
Your breathless hair
In the uneasy chair
__________________________
22/10/2016
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