Constitutions Poems | Examples

Windfall

We ate the windfall
Jillie Bulson and me
Wandering the orchard
From tree to tree
Apples and pears
Plums and cherries
Then the kitchen garden
To top up on berries.

Constitutions like iron
We gorged our fill
And never ever once
Were we ever ill.

The Orchard still stands,
Jillie sadly recently gone.
Our childhood friendship
In memory lingers on,
Still eating the windfall,
Jillie Bulson and me,
Wandering the orchard
From tree to tree.

IF THERE WERE NO POETS

Imagine a world without holy books
No guidance on do's and don'ts
No line to console and steer us
No promises of sweet rewards for the good.

Imagine a world without laws
No frameworks to guide behavior
No penalties for wrongdoers
No checks on those in power.

This sweet world would be
A productive garden in the wild
Where every day, a monkey could be king
And there would be no birds that sing.

If there were no poets
The Constitutions, Bible and the Quran
Would be long books of prose
Filled with horror and bitter endings.

Fade To Black CHAINS HAIKU

 Sylphs, Fairies, Imps, Sprites
Moonlighting on the dark side
Bitstreaming the Night

Ology fractured
Today's Client, a new breed
That's the business

Mushrooming sales, sniffs
Crystal, clear intent
To manufacture

-oting with money
At the Poles, even my wife
There's Aurora now

Lunging from darkness
Retro grade it forward, Ho
Think plunges work well

Everything's for sale
Well, Specially People, Hell
Got a few right here

Ever since Biden
Been no need for deception
Magic, fade to black

That's a rap people
Cut it, print it, Sell it high
I miss the old days

Video stores, love
Obeying Constitutions
Common decency

Lilac Spring

A host of lilac roses floated 
On the air.
A consuming fragrance 
This lilac affair
The betterment of rose 
Confusion 
This lilac spring everyone's 
In love
All lovers made blanket precautions 
So as to have picnic prostration
Daffodils Carnations and lilac 
Roses surrounding.
A floral heaven.
Every  dream was spent on elated tiers
Not one a bouquet of tears
Husbands and wives crowded 
Constitutions If this lilac spring 
Was different,  how would it be
More merrier?  
No glee denied.
Farewell to every dream fulfilled 
This lilac spring

On Shores of Eternity

In the deaf woods of curious willows
lies stalwart beliefs of days bygone.
Retribution, restitution, resolution
resolve, beginning our journey.
Blinded by bewares of sours ungifted
lost constitutions coagulate.
Lamenting gargoyles grin in reside.
The lost, given to hateful
brawls detonate heaven and earth.
Solemn potentials greet our solice of 
batteredin-betweens. Spores of negativity
parade the sovereign coming storm.
Holy mountains of Nosfreatu thoughts
reek of broken lenses of scum 
serpents, a continuous path to an 
Event Horizon, a culture of patterned
violence to dog days of uncoiled reckoning.
Leviathan pipe dreams of nauseating
Oblivion, casts a universal dark shadow
How many tears to reflection?

Abortions

America constitutions in hand of 9 judges
But it is hard to understand their logicism
Oh you have no legal right of your own life
Really when all women needs our support
They have to travel on a sad lonely journey
It just hard to understand their anguish
Oh it wrong to terminate an unborn child
Not to kill and slaughter an existing life
Sometime it appears logic isn't conceivable

He Took On Jerusalem - For Me and U

Jesus died for my sins
But if I live for naught
Am I living freely?
As with constitutions -
Mix of rights and duty!

Jesus died for my sins
What need we be thankful?
"He asked me not, nor I
Of God, a pure conscience!"
Or, "Why should I comply?"

Jesus died for my sins
My job: just Testimony -
Tell all, "No guilt assails!"
Saved a new, great vessel
Tossed on earth, safe in gales

Jesus died for my sins
Deaths victory (but) temporary!
I know how "Good" Friday
Preludes to deaths defeat
He rose, "PAS" Holiday

NOTE: 
My syllable count for "temporary" and "Vic -try" are more India- English (& American accented?). Thanx dear reader. Indulge me, thanX. shalOm

Let's Start

All religions in the world preach the noblest morals
Show us live harmoniously without quarrels.
Constitutions of nations advocate ideal ways
Inculcate unity and fraternity always.
The pious scriptures, great preaching contained
Rights and duties, the manuals clearly explained
Ancient cultures are forever to be cherished
Their roots and origins shouldn’t be perished
Wars, never be the antidotes; take issues to discussions
Or else the whole race has to face the repercussions
Acknowledge that no race is superior to others 
All have their own radiance and unseen covers
Self-centric, the only reason for all plights
Change mindsets and then think for the rights
Are we the sole owners of this soil?
To rebuild this pristine land, need to toil.
Summits and seminars may find out reasons and remedies
Let’s start! Be a part of the marathon to bring back the melodies.



Placed: 2nd

Your Peace Message to the World Poetry Contest
Free verse poetry form only.
Sponsored by: Anoucheka Gangabissoon 
Date: 05-04-2022

Changing Still Not

glittering dew, thru shining sun
becomes invisible- out of mind!

who knows
the life fills the procedure of unknown

seasons come and go
thru the attire of time changing

nature feels green and
becomes wither
thru the juice of floral life-changing

people come and go to die,
leaders come and go to the dethronement
thru the change of voters and constitutions

gamblers come but the poor lost all, why?

the truth changing for universal peace
still comes not
though all in try!


-22.11.2020 Chattogram

Forbidden

To me
Independence, democracy, politics, socio-economics, religions are not forbidden
All countries, different cultures, and constitutions are not forbidden
Skin colors, different languages, varieties of beliefs, and good deeds are not forbidden

I am on this earth not cause of the forbidden fruit
I am of nature, by nature, and for nature
To me, the word ‘Forbidden’ is prohibited sternly!

But, yes,
In the name of world-wide peace, sovereign solidarity, socio-diplomacy, religions, cleansing terrorism
arranging any war, cool blooded massacre, diplomatic fraudulent pacts and
damaging universal peace are sternly forbidden to me

For the sake of the different cultures, constitutions, languages, beliefs
dividing the earthly lands into pieces and naming different nationality are sternly forbidden to me

For the sake of nature physically, mentally, and knowledge superiority
demean the woman or any other human as weak is sternly forbidden to me

I am on this earth not cause of the forbidden fruit
I am on this earth cause of a man and a woman’s loving fluid


-19.11.2020 Chattogram

Basic Waters

There is a water shortage.
A problem the moon shines 
to introspect its tides
and how they can become still
with or without the clouds.

I forgive the engineered outrage.
Attracting everything but 
rhythm because to flow
is to sleep next to a hut
thatched with growth.

While the children 
in the village no longer
need to chew corn
or drain milk from cows
for nature or for their people.

No need to carry buckets of water
or language in long distances
that they forget The Alphabet,
Speaking rivers and 
lakes of a lost youth.

An unprotected innocence,
choosing for this thirst 
to be satisfied with a new system.
Too many missing words
in all our constitutions.

Poetic Therapy

As we are all part of the same verse,
languages to belong by diverse.
When the pen is mightier then the sword,
rhymed words are the crown of all commerce.
Legislation and constitutions in applicable intellect,
loving words by peacemakers detect.
Therapeutic words are the guru’s mother tongue,
liberating the spirits to where they belong.
Admired by masters of philosophy in dept,
liberating the cosmic mental effect.
Love letters become the innocent testament,
marriage contract sealing the happy ever after trend.
Societies in refined approach spoke in rhyme,
mental attitude with a thought through to define.
Mechanic quick thinking is the wheel in wheel respective,
giving no room for pliable introspective. 
Selected words of grace as guided meditation,
open the vaults of poor collected separation.
Books of  poesy towards the child’s education,
replaced by syllabus sheets towards nullification. 
The human mind without words has no image,
the system in disguise establishing the damage.
While rhymes in poetic sense by the day,
keeps all confusion at bay.

League of Ecofeminist Rainbow Conservation Voters

There is this thought,
in Leagues of Voters,
continually arising
from East to West
and South to North
and Left to Right,

That we need to make win/win nice
with our mammalian cousins
on land and sea
or only mean old reptiles
and hungry predative birds and insects
will remain
to design Earth's future cultures
and regenerations.

Others feel this prejudice
for wombs over eggs
and nuts
and seeds
is merely ignorant elitism,
as if humanimals
are not capable of reacting
like rattlesnakes
and scorpions
wherever and whenever our environmental climate
fails to comfort
and entertain us.

Womb supremacists
and egg empiricists
and seed originalists
all agree,
regardless of ZeroZone resourceful structure,
win/win cooperative economies
are healthier than win/lose ego-empowering constitutions,
whether capital declared
or politically implied
by organizing skills fostering more wars and competition
more than love and cooperative education.

This reminds me of a Japanese saying,
There is luck in the last portion.

Whether good luck or bad,
well-wombed or bad-seeded,
this saying leaves to us
to predict and actively hope for
or against.

Cups of Prayers and Curses

I drink everyday cups after cups
Of what you feared to drink.
If blood differs its color from red
To saffron, white or whatever,
I deny to bleed religiously.
From what well a beggar
Draws water for his thirst I know not,
But I understand the poison
Of sins we, you and I, drink everyday;
Spiced with your indifferent high-handedness.
Do not hoist your flag on my history,
For I have stopped walking on tutored prayers.
In spite of the anthem you've baptized me with and
My flat nose and narrow eyes upon which
Your mockery humiliates humanity,
I remain native to my roots.
Someday, a stone will conquer us, the both of us,
When stars will drain their twinkles, with remorse,
On garbage of raped girls, even as chastity becomes
The fault-line along which seismic rebellions
Will tremor and justify my absence
From your churches, mosques and temples.
My demands, notwithstanding your statutes,
Are answerable by your august houses;
Lest posterity wil spill cups of curses
On altars, constitutions and patriotism.

Poems Are Blood and Bone

Poems are blood and bone.
~
Poets are oil spits;
flamable ancient reservoirs of
contestable spirit, 
mallowed constitutions.

Hollow seekers of destitution
prowling depression beds
of coughed discarded memories
blanketed by romantic reverance
virginally shredded in lines of honest prose.

The poetic is posted between self harm 
and alien repetition. The poet
sheaving change to cliche should rather 
grasp the phantoms 
binding body to wordly weight.

Poets lost their telos long ago,
and now farm the deserts peel;
a catalyst appraisal of 
that odd-fantastic Real.

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