BUILDING SA TOGETHER AND LEAVING NO ONE BEHIND
South Africa our Nation
'Cause of some actions
We have been apart
hatred filled in our hearts
Cries heard day to night
during day day light disappearing
We have been captured as rats
We lived with threats
Our lives as hard as nuts
We should not make eye to eye
rather let bygons be bygons
We must bury the hatchet
we no its easy to say than to do
Do stand together by any means
lets go at making everything right
For our Nation to have light
If we stand together wecan win
Win this battle together as a pride
The Grinch
is the guy I want to pinch.
Why would that crazy fool
ever want to steal the yule?
Santa Claus,
I'm just a kid who has four paws,
so, I hope to see beneath the tree,
a chew toy just for me.
Frosty the Snowman,
you ain't got much left to show man -
just coals, a hat, and a carrot stick...
in a puddle. Your spree was over pretty quick.
Bob Cratchit
Did you catch it?
Scrooge says you got a raise.
For Tiny Tim, to God, let's praise.
Rudolf the Rednose Reindeer,
raised not very far from here,
hit the big time on Santa's sleigh,
with gifts for kids both young and grey.
Jack Frost,
I told you to get lost.
Move along, don't linger.
I can't even move a finger.
Bob Cratchit,
Scrooge will bury the hatchet.
Before he changes his views,
buy Tiny Tim's orthopedic shoes.
Santa Claus,
don't send me a toy because,
as I start to think,
help my dad, so he won't drink.
Frosty the Snowman,
your mom told you not to go, man,
outside to play in the sun.
A blizzard's a safer place to have fun.
The Grinch -
that's you, you Christmas monkey wrench.
You should be grateful to know that you
are the subject of a clerihew.
1905
Geronimo went to Washington
to meet the Great White Father
(where he hoped to bury the hatchet)
and save his Indian Nation...
checking into his hotel, the desk clerk asked,
"Do you have a reservation?"
The perfect poker face when playing cards
(his guards were nearly always broke)
said to be blood-thirsty, his winnings used he
to pay for educating children of the Apache.
He later rode with Pawnee Bill
in what was known as the 'Wild West',
(and what a circus)
a chief he never was,
1909
died of pneumonia all too soon,
'Geronimo Now a Good Indian,'
read the headline of The Chicago Daily Tribune.
Bury the hatchet, I always say
We’ve enough firewood in the hallway
I prayed for peace
No prayers were heard
I wondered if God existed
Their hands turned red
Lots of blood on the ground
I wondered whose blood was
The world of today is rumbustious
Their behavior is quiet obvious
It's every humans' right to do as they "please"
Who am I to restrict them from satisfaction of their desires?
My hands are trussed
We are lost with no direction like a wind
We are at the deepest point
Of which we can't simply make a knot
For us to never get misled
By our cold hearts that are devious
Unable to forgive each other and bury the hatchet
We have buried ourselves inside
Inside we are dying with regret,outside we care less
We live to set an example,be aware of the actions
We need peace within ourselves
The blood shed is enough
We still need to live altogether
Be peaceful like a dove,find peace planetary
put the past to rest
bury the hatchet
and let
bygones be bygones
separate yourself
from the unwanted memories
that you struggle with
and move on with your life
Snake oil does not cure the curse when it enters the blood
Two blind eyes have turned face inside they burn out of focus
Cold as ice cutting to the core nightshades has twisted the soul
love your enemies as they suffer from hate
it is time to bury the hatchet in words
When humans take away certain values we are left with monsters
Removing peace and justice that which dictates against the truth
Leaving this world to its vices instruct the ignorant
do right by God as we move forward getting closer to the grave
This personal death and abandonment has created in many
an individual fear in the shame one feels
is within that being judged by their own sins
• We don't have to be overly loud… We don't have to be ratchet… We can make Our voices heard… Amongst One Another, let's bury the hatchet… Let's join hand wills and the bond demand… Let's up meet that, as together, WE stand. There's only Greatness to come, if WE just attempt… To not ever try, is the only fail. One smiles toward another as a gesture of respect… What's the ill look for? Then be so happy and eager to grin in… The other faces… Not painted or in likeness of One's own traces. (Sigh) Eye extend Self to step up and say with depth… that… Eye love you and there's no way, I'd ever give up! With understanding, undemanding, yet persistence. Knowing firsthand the struggles and images we've been given. Not to remain stagnant and stuck in the same… Chasing of waterfalls and standing the rain… That's not Our drive and best option. Going ahead to it, with tenacity and final action. Easier said than done? Thou can choose… not to use it… it only holds one back. We're soaring forward and higher, without feeding One's slack… feelings of inferiority and the need to fit in… to become consumed, upon feeding trend.
10/26/17
On the radio the sound of static
Got some bad habits
Broke many but am still an addict
Beyond all the semantics
Life isn't always fantastic
Occasionally graphic
And tragic
Not going to panic
Or become frantic
Slight brain damage
Still I manage
Burning and earning cabbage
Working hard going savage
In the beginning hardly had s***
Now am so close I can almost grab it
Working outside and inside an attic
Then going in and out of traffic
Occasionally eating food that is organic
And other junk on my palate
These fools are plastic
Being far too dramatic
Unwilling to bury the hatchet
Taking care of anything problematic
Being pragmatic
Changes in tactics
Keeping my balance
Using my talents
Across the planet
Out of this world intergalactic
Being enthusiastic
I always wanted money and a bad B****
Just trying to avoid being in a straight jacket
Out to help my family live lavish
Before I vanish
And am in a urn or casket
I stood before the judge
who was now wearing a black cloth on top of his head
He asked the jury for their decision
The foreman stood up and uttered…
"Guilty of first-degree murder"
The judge looked me directly in the eye and said,
"Last time we met I told you to bury the hatchet"
"I did your honour…
but you didn’t say it wasn’t to be in her head!"
07-02-17
The genesis of its life;
Inadvertent step on the toe.
The little dark seed is planted;
A spark starts a fire.
An enemy is born.
The valley of the shadow
Of unforgiveness;
A fiery way for hatred
Roasts dark
The heart borne out of purity
Of the creator.
Desperateness to kill
Metamorphoses the pious.
A sword is wielded
By the hand
Of the new-borne
Into the dark kingdom
To do the avoidable -
Revenge!
Villanelle: The Dilemma of the Non-Violent – 63
The mystery of Birth holds no great secret
Poïetics the creative process neither
Can Death twin sister of Birth nothing beget
Who has returned to re-possess carcass to let
If ever one there was what does he remember
The mystery of Birth holds no great secret
Which Pharoah still sails to lands unknown in debt
Which Zhong Guo Emperor led clay armies conquer
Can Death twin sister of Birth nothing beget
Yi Jing puts most of it down to whims of climate
The old lay their weary bones down by winter
The mystery of Birth holds no great secret
To kill no one first needs bury the hatchet
No Marquis de Sade roughride Justine either
Can Death twin sister of Birth nothing beget
Does Death disintegrate essence ultimate
Cult of the Unknown Fear of the Nether
The mystery of Birth holds no great secret
Can Death twin sister of Birth nothing beget
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2016
??I watched TV from 8:35,
Until I saw Stargazing Live,
Which told me about the dive.
It got cold and dark,
It was the movement’s mark;
It was phenomenal, worth a remark.
I saw the whole thing,
Until the birds did again sing,
I felt like I was on an eagle’s wing.
You had to keep deciding, goon,
Which was the sun, and which the moon,
So that you didn’t get a wooden spoon.
It was a beauteous sight,
Of natural selection’s light,
Which also claims freedom’s might.
It was indeed magesti??c,
So I will not test it,
‘Cos that would be pathetic.
Life is not cryptic,
So just accept things, bury the hatchet,
And don't create for yourself another wicket.
I saw the small explosion, but felt safe,
Because I was at a distance, like a waif;
I didn't need to have a faith!
Evolution makes me feel included,
In that transitional static, so fluid;
That monumental fusion, not stupid.
The next eclipse is in 2026,
So please don't get into a fix:
You’ve got time to lick your lips.
There was an eclipse of the sun by the moon in the UK on Friday the 20th of March at about 8:35am until about 9:45am.
Love your foes
The sound of the word FORGIVEN
Is very soothing to the ears,
Especially when being said to you
It is like winning a perpetual inner battle
A healing, so relieving
Sometimes unbelievable,
Because you thought you were unforgivable.
You wonder if they really mean it
Who’s perfect? We all need it,
A veil to cover our mistakes.
But it’s more difficult when it’s our turn to say:
You’re FORGIVEN.
It takes a strong mind, a merciful heart
Yes! Even a courageous man or woman
To let bygones be bygones,
To dig a hole, deep enough & bury the hatchet
Ensuring its skeleton never resurrect.
It takes fortitude to overcome
Even that of a slave who forgave his colonizers.
It’s hard to forgive an enemy
As long as their vice live in the mind
not erased
Yet it can be a miracle,
A rare and seldom treasure to find
Making it a special thing.
To love the sinner and hate the sin.
If they greet, share with & cherish only those who love them.
Are we different or better if we do the same?
Let go.
And love thy foe.
a solider and a sailor
sing a lonesome song just for your entertainment
but in it you are betrayed by visions of heaven
shine with the late night ribald drinkers
after all after a few bottles even mortality seems lively
disjointedly you pick your way
through all these salvation's
never quite believing that you could exceed
your worth and standing
after all you can buy a new life for dirt cheap
long as your willing to give up your lifestyle
long as your willing to be disarmed
of all those quick witted answers you think fit so well
and give up all her peek-a-boo paradise's
the solider and sailor buy a round
and toasting the queen they bury the hatchet
no expectations can lead you on to the
brink of such strange bedfellows but you'll try
you can only hope not to be a victim of such defeatism
when all the ribald drinkers have left the saloon
walking in the thin light of dawn
you will remember all these beautiful things
and dream better dreams
build better sunrises from the gloom of days ending
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