Long Abolished Poems
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The death penalty, a practice rooted in antiquity, continues to evoke controversy and ethical dilemmas in modern society. Despite its purported role in deterring crime and administering justice, the death penalty stands on shaky moral ground and should be abolished for several compelling reasons.
Firstly, the irreversible nature of the death penalty is inherently flawed. In a justice system prone to human error, the risk of executing an innocent person is ever-present. Numerous cases worldwide have revealed wrongful convictions, highlighting the fallibility of judicial proceedings. Once a life is taken, there is no recourse for rectifying such a grievous mistake, perpetuating an irreversible injustice that stains the fabric of society.
Moreover, the death penalty undermines the fundamental value of human life. By sanctioning state-sanctioned killings, societies diminish the sanctity of life and condone violence as a means of resolving conflicts. Such a stance contradicts the principles of compassion, rehabilitation, and forgiveness, which should underpin any civilized society's legal framework.
Furthermore, the death penalty fails to achieve its purported goal of deterrence. Empirical evidence suggests that the threat of capital punishment does not significantly deter individuals from committing heinous crimes. Instead, socioeconomic factors, mental health issues, and systemic inequalities often drive criminal behavior. Investing in preventative measures, such as education, poverty alleviation, and mental health services, would yield more effective and humane solutions to reducing crime rates.
Critics argue that the death penalty provides closure to victims' families and serves as a form of retribution. However, vengeance should not be conflated with justice. Studies have shown that the prolonged legal processes and endless appeals associated with death penalty cases exacerbate the victims' families' trauma, prolonging their suffering rather than offering closure.
In conclusion, the abolition of the death penalty aligns with the principles of justice, compassion, and human rights. By rejecting this antiquated and morally dubious practice, societies can move towards a more enlightened and humane approach to criminal justice—one that prioritizes rehabilitation, reconciliation, and the inherent worth of every individual.
Can a man – all alone - foist a god upon his fellows
Even if it’s only himself
And they his subjects
G.. is Akbar!
Does the muezzin from the minaret of Qoutoub-Minar
look up or
down to the illiterate savant emperor
whose newly-ordered cosmos
much as Tamerlane and Genghis Khan's blood
mixed gods
invented the Gysin-Burroughs cut-up and fold-in method
a cornucopian chimera
shi'ite-sunnite-kharidjites
hindu/buddhist-jain
confucian-taoist/zoroastrian
orthodox-christian/judaic
saivite-vaisnavite
mahayanist-theravadite
shintoist-zen-chan
agnostic-atheist
A…. is Great!
In the begining there was no VERB for him
In the end
from
"brahmana" Himalayas to the "asurya" Deccan
from
Ghazna and Kabul to the spent chugged mouth of the Ganges
where bloomed the Allah-Upanishad
One common language
One uncommon religion
One classless society
One mutually nourishing art
One scientific quest
and the sweet music of friendly disputation
within then the world’s vastest book and art collection
though knowingly
took to wife an Hindu princess
chose his prime counsellor from among the Brahmin élite
where within hearing distance lithesome nymphs bathed in scented milk
his victoriously wearied warrior limbs back from punitive expeditions
through Panipat Delhi Agra Punjab Gwalior Ajmer
Gujarat Bengal Sind Orissa Baluchistan Ahmadnagar Kashmir
Khandesh
to circumscribe the sub-continent
a Ceasar at the court of Fatehpur-Sikri
Akbar is ___!
Who would parse and complete or conclude the syllogism
For « One » who dared abolish the jiziyah
Note: Jalal ud-Din Muhammad Akbar (1542-1605), the third Mughal Emperor, edicted that muezzins should herald the rising of the sun by the call: Allah-u-Akbar!
The « jiziyah » , a word of Arabic origin, meaning a tax levied on non-Muslims who wished to conserve their own property, and imposed by the Moghul sovereigns – on and off - in India, was abolished by Akbar in his seventh year of accession to the throne.
©: T. Wignesan, March 13, 1992 (from the sequence/collection: "Words for a Lost Sub-Continent")
June nineteenth one hundred and fifty years ago
Juneteenth hint: three hundred
and sixty six days
after eighteen sixty four.
Major General Gordon Granger
led the Union Soldiers to Galveston, Texas,
to announce the end of the Civil war
and the freedom of all enslaved people.
Jim Crow sat perched
over the event horizon
waiting in the wings,
which brought darkened
(non-sheltering) skies
not only for the hot pocket
of suddenly emancipated
persons of color,
who would subsequently experience
immense prejudice
upon their embarkation
as (no pun intended)
"masters" of their own selves
while attempting to eke out a living
dirt poor, yet resourceful
hunkering down on plantations,
which property eminent domain
of federal government,
(a political entity
characterized by union
of partially self-governing provinces,
states, or other regions),
whereby said body electric
codified, fortified, and indemnified
manifest destiny, a phrase
coined in 1845, the idea
that United States destined—
by God advocates believed—
to expand its dominion
and spread democracy and capitalism
across the entire North American continent.
Though institution of slavery
supposedly rendered null and void
at the stroke of a pen
(courtesy Abraham Lincoln)
well actual legislation
passed by Congress on January 31, 1865,
and ratified on December 6, 1865,
the 13th Amendment abolished slavery
in the United States.
Nevertheless merciless abuse
heaped upon the *****
despite their legal status
being Granted leeway
to persevere life, liberty
and pursuit of happiness.
Recognition as equal brethren
among collective soul of American
fraught with bitter aversion,
condemnation, and ejaculation
of physical and verbal violence
against people of color,
whose melanin enriched complexion
birthrights rendered hidebound
severely limited
inalienable rights as declared
in Declaration of Independence,
now still utter abhorrence
regarding treatment
of those proud enterprising people,
whose once storied
African past left in tatters
leaving sparse threads
woven together by diligent dogged research
nsync with twenty first century technology
to allow, enable and provide opportunity
to stitch together a more complete tapestry
and spiritual fusion with shackled ancestors.
What a city I murmur to myself looking at its map.
We approached the city known as Dis,
with its vast army and its burdened citizens.
At last we reached the moats
dug deep around the dismal city.
What destroys the poetry of a city?
Automobiles destroy it,
and they destroy more than the poetry.
Dante and Virgil chased by 7 or 8 dangerous devils
Grumpy, Happy, Sneezy, Sleepy, Dopey . . .
Our heroes reduced from metaphysical philosophers
interested in god and what man has done to man
to improvising primitive tools for survival.
Hope abandoned, we rate our chances of expiring
in the nuclear fire – excellent –
during the decline of western civilization.
On the other hand, I hope
our current problems are only temporary
and it’s just a matter of time before
the public ignores the 24-hour news cycle.
Bad news sells but the good life’s all around us.
One feels love and devotion
even for the 60 million who voted for our opponent.
Vaclav Havel said with a wisdom well beyond brilliance:
“Either we have hope within us or we don’t.
It is a dimension of the soul, and it’s not dependent
on some particular observation of the world or estimate of the situation.
It is an orientation of the spirit, an orientation of the heart
that transcends the world as it’s immediately experienced.
It is not the conviction that something will turn out well,
but the certainty that something makes sense
no matter how it turns out.”
It resembles grief. But it's not quite grief. I'll give you grief.
Certain days planned to be eventful I look forward to for weeks.
Let the peaceful transfer of power proceed. The sorrow and the pity.
Never may the anarchic man find rest at my hearth.
When the laws are kept, how proudly the city stands!
When the laws are broken, what of the city then?
We are moving through some allegory between a City of Hope,
where history has been abolished, and a City of History,
where hope can be slipped in only as contraband.
Failing to achieve understanding, we're searching
outer space for an entity to unite us as humanity.
That person, or city, is consciousness.
Two ancient female poets are a revelation,
the clarity of their complaints: lost lover, lost city.
Our enemy eventually becomes our brother,
his misery lifted by coming to her city.
QUEST
Quest for meaning of life runs continuous .
Eternal question demands an answer .
'Oh , my soul ! Where do you exist ?
My introspection can't reach to concrete conclusion.'
Through last breath does consciousness
percolate and evaporate ?
'Oh, my soul ! Where shall I go after demise ?
Will you give my shelter ?
' Who am I ?'
Since long , dealing with life,
now getting prepared to listen to the last bell
'with no idea of ‘After Life ‘.
Too long past only to reminisce.
Too short future to venture in senile decay.
Basically none wants to lose identity.
Me, no exception.
Body to perish after demise.
Brain being an organ stops functioning .
Will thought processes be wiped off ?
If so-called soul or consciousness
be immortal identifying myself,
that will be my ultimate solace .
But my Quest continues.
Life carries lots of emotional bonds.
Can those be fruitless?
A wishful thought I cherish,
ME , not to be abolished , when I will die.
Human yearns for re- incarnation to enjoy life.
I am not the exception.
' Oh, my soul ! What is the assurance of your immortality ?'
Will soul lose individuality merging to
Oneness ,
being blended and entwined with Divinity.
Then individual life turns meaningless !
No, I won’t agree .
My Quest continues.
A strenge sign was seen in Uvila
when Prince Kambulishi Lutambwe went to rest.
The grandsons of King Mussabwa Kamango were hunted by some traitors
and swindlers silently,
One day Prince Kambulishi Lutambwe failed
in their traps that were poisoned
things brought by some people to terminate him.
A prince who could defend their throne as colonial rule was abolished in June 1960.
Now was the right time for the royal house
to claim their rights.
It was September 1960,
the family of King Mussabwa Kamango thought
of choosing the Prince they wanted and entrusting him
to the elders of Bavila so that they could handle
the coronation of their culture and traditions
(It was a secret plan of the the royal house).
Traitors and swindlers who were placed
by some Belgian officials on some important posts
of cultural affairs were thought to be removed
by the new king and their lives could be miserable
as they could be unemployed.
So they secretly planned to kill Prince Kambulishi Lutambwe and Alfonce I Rally ( Lali) Ngengethe Mussabwa who qualified for the position of the King.
Prince Kambulishi Lutambwe was poisoned
and failed ill.
The day he died,
The earthquake shook the entire Kingdom of Bavila,
many people who lived in the hills
near the royal forests could witness
the crack of Mount Munanila as large stones
failed to the valleys.
some huts on the mountains were torn apart,
Some people on the boundaries of the lake fallen.
People who were near the body of Prince Kambulishi Lutambwe were afread,
As they could not resist such a wonderful manifestation.
they thought about the signs they heard
to some elders about the fire from the grave
of Prince Luhongeka Ngengethe Mussabwa
who was one of the grandfathers of Prince Kambulishi Lutambwe.
Some people thought about the signs
that happened when Jesus Christ died on the cross.
They were wondering, "Why this terrible earthquake as
our Prince rests with God,
Was our God angry again because of this cruel
death of the prince?
The prince was buried at kijaga graveyard,
His death remained in the minds of many people,
as they always remember that earthquake.
October 20 / 2023
Four, six, or seventeen tulip buds grinning. Of course not on a salt marsh. Leave that alone. Misted aromas of ancestral graves should be cared for not dug but if a slug us in power then a lemon woman could do much damage to lochs, lands, fields and mountain so do not discuss paperwork with a tiny dog whose obligations are merely to dress in a fur coat. Is the sheer fornication of the environment that is of great concern at this time. Gaping holes can never be earth wombs so digging will produce an end to life. When chatting in a queue always question the mind set of the jaded eyes. Grasping concepts is often a difficulty when all intelligence is received from square entertainment sets. A lone lizard sits on an empty beach waiting for the strobes. The lights to take up and away. Patterns of time. Printed not. Yet in sound waves enjoyed freedom and thus gave birth to new inspiration through interdimensional beams. Often it is said that dancing a waltz with a frog is the best idea as sudden movements of tango could cause unintentional hopping movements. Such a slur. Sour are the sauces whose injection to meats cause secretions. And many a leopard printed ham fails to deliver wine to the exact specifications and timing. Yet a portly shrew arriving in a southern breeze can stop by multitudes of shopping centres in an urgent attempt to purchase grand golden negligées' for their mice partners who are asleep in fairytale yachts complete with pinnacles. Akin to a childhood book. Likened to a cartoon castle of great magic. But when a corvette changes it's clothes it is time fir the sputter sputter sounding cards of the fat dark purple bus. Who would want to eat toast in an elevated slime kitchen with Mr and Mrs cockroach and a laughing 900 foot long light beam of a snake. Portray not a plant as a plate. An apple as a card. And remain aloof to chard writing as this will amuse cats who thrive on milky truths. It is not a justified weapon if planted in a school. Scenes are unjustified and should be abolished. For fried is the skin like an egg in a pan. Turning tuning taking teachings. Yelping yachtsman. Gardeners. Xx booming balance braked xx snail diving henchmen xx saturation xx
Form:
George Washington would never believe it and call it a crying shame. I have observed the prohibition of prayer in public schools. Free speech is not free but is for sale to the highest bidder. Moreover, there is an attitudinal atmosphere suggesting that any speech that is not my own should be abridged, censured, or abolished. Traditional norms and family values are dropping like flies under the spell of pesticides. The Bible is considered to be narrow-minded hate-speech. I have seen people terrorized, their civil rights decertified and denied. Moral values have been devalued, set aside, and liquidized; Constitutional rights are diluted, disputed, and no longer solidified. Whatever happened to the great 'thinkers'? I have noticed the terminal illness and demise of noble ideas. Education is being replaced with political persuasion and propaganda.
Abraham Lincoln would never accept it and call it a crying shame. Minority rights are being revised, realigned, reassigned, and redefined. I have witnessed human rights ignored, disregarded, and not prioritized. The cultural revolution is forging ahead in jet-propulsion speed like there is no tomorrow nor time of reckoning. Belief in evolution is man's best hope for a future without accountability. There are no absolutes nor need for resolution. Majority rights are brought into question, unguaranteed, and in retreat. Equal rights are desired but unclarified, undefined, and unobtained. I have beheld the orchestrated disappearance of common sense, and before long we shall be worry-free because 'Big Brother' will always come to our defense. Alien rights are well protected, highly promoted, and unwisely provided. There is a free admittance of subjectivity and the utter rejection of objectivity. I started to weep when I realized that sanity is being burned at the stake. I'm hoping and praying that we return to our senses before it's too late.
07062018PoSoupContest, Personal Favorite Poem Written In 2018 Poetry
Sponsored by: Carolyn Devonshire, 5P
A lap dancing molecule is dressed in a monocle. Such dainty prowess but naked no dress. No suit could taste an acrylic sheet as sheer fabric is often moving unseen across oceans,beams, and many window ledges. Who would then argue that a tempered sword could beckon in this era as most people have taken off wool and now the flock stands bare. A show of a shower. An increased discolouration of tyranny and a mounting view of hue. Mist not a moat. And take no orphaned lonely goat to a show. An AK47 is looking at a tent. And although rusted is trusted and thrown around in the air with great gusts of emblematic soul thrusts. Dupe not a diamond headed cobra. For ancestral wisdoms flourish if harm is perceived. Placing of the cloth should be attempted only when the stream is full. And the stench from a rhododendron printed garden is abominable yet can it be abolished? "yes" cried the 893 serpents, 500 belligerent buffalo, an earwig, and a giant sea turtle. Carve that then. Ha ha. It is to be the dutiful honour of the maiden of the eleventh ocean to place chorographical lines on necklaces. It is neither a weave nor a wand. And placing ones hands behind ones back is a sign not of cohesion it is detrimental to a bloodline. Once sold. A soldier fed is a soldier dead. And a field of archaically driven radio beams is a quagmire of hidden ancestry. Gone. But not gone. It is not the place for a nine foot leopard print jacket to state wisdoms at a ball or a garden party. It is the place of the feet. The dust. The trust. The formation of the ground. The true leaders denied but not denied. And all chaotically clam style ship faces and all Jacobean worshipping masonry brick heads placed the many many peas in a boiling pan then laughed. Sold manuscripts for money. Then drank blood in oceanic temples. Worldy wholly wantons. And a sack of germinating potatoes pollinated. Discuss not a wonder. Pulling pleasing playing partying patties pastries pasteurised. Slip slap slop then. Great. Fantastic isn't it? Feel not akin to a tired dilapidated drinks fountain? Xxxxx passing Paddington people xxxxx adjudicator adhere. Xxxxx vaporisations p y q Zr
Form:
What Is Really Beauty?
Date: Sun, Dec 27 2015 at 12:26 AM
I don't you really know what is Beauty
It's not Make up your Body or Jewelry
No need for Insecurities
No matter the thoughts of those that Oppose to your Humility
Or your Dignity
Because you are created by divinity
Suffient of the Imagery of the Creators Periphery
For to be the Mother of The livingly Entities
But I stuck mystically in the Mysteries
Cause Beauty isn't Just Skin Deep
It's your Smile, your Heart, your Soul Spiritually
Never let me take away your Confidence
Cause you are all A Goddess
An your Body isn't trash to be Abolished
Or to be use for this Man's Tolerance
Of you being Accepted in his Conference
But Sex sells in this world as A Profit
Your Womanlyhood should be Acknowledged
An Respected an not Disrespected by a Fools Conscious
You don't need Perms Cause These Chemicals is Toxins
From the Man to benefit cause the roots in the Soil
Of the Soul of your Hair is Natural Oils
To Let the Hair Grow
Keep yourself well Groomed
An you'll Bloom
Cause you a Flower in a Room
Meteor showers by the Moon
Beauty is Your Eyes
That's bright like the Sky
Bright as the Stars in the Heaven
Never be shy to Hide or be Afraid of your Size
Be humble an Surmise the pride
Of those that's not Accepting
A Man was to be the Protector of the Earth's Protection
I just spreading the Message
What is really Beauty
It just Includes Me
An Confuses Me
It's really Peculiarity
Strange but it doesn't Humor Me
It Illumines Me
Not speaking the truth Accuses me
So im speaking the truth fluently
Cause I'm Angry furiously
Wondering Curiously
Do you understand Beauty that usually you don't see
some want tell what's truth from the fruits of the peach
To play the Music That Speaks
Listen to the Tunes of the Beat
My Voice Cause I'm with Beauty & I'm a Beast
Like a Lion you see the Beauty in the Nature
Women are so Beautiful they Beauty they should Savor
Because these fools Scrutinies can turn you into a Ugly Azalea
It's alot of Beauty in you but I'm running out of time
But I know the meaning of Beauty you will Find