Long Custodians Poems
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After the big bang in space you hang and hang
Getting ready and steady before our history began
Beating a couple of a billion stars to become the Sun
Molding the ashes of earth for the descent of Man
What was your name before we gave you our own?
What was it like the morning of that first dawn?
Did you see our ancestors crawl out of the sea?
Did they acknowledge you, even as they roamed free?
While other planets were too cold or too hot
You made sure earth was a well-ventilated cot
You gave light and warmth just the right dose
A little less or more and humanity would never have arose
Life in abundance, from microbes to the great dinosaurs
Many creatures of the like, when the world had no doors
Then you got rid of the dinosaurs, to save us from harm
That was the plan, so that our turn could at last come
You know which day; the first human stepped on the ground
A great evolution hybrid, compound of your compound
Did he thank you for the water he drank and the air he breathed?
Or for that flower he picked for the first woman he kissed
And when humans became the most dominant species
You guided them to cross the most dangerous of seas
They conquered the world; from ice age to industrial age
But for you it was just another turn of a simple page
They divided the world into nations and races
You watched as they discriminated those of darker faces
They forgot that you polished every creature with a unique shade
And only Mother Nature can answer for what she made
Where were they when you reduced earth’s temperature?
Who was present when you designed life’s nomenclature?
When you painted the sky blue without using a brush
Doing everything to perfection without any rush
Yet we walk around proud, as if there is no extinction
Self appointed custodians, with portfolios of distinction
Finding our refuge inside high walls and banking halls
Staking our immortality by the words of ancient scrolls
We have the theory of it all but it’s not enough
For we have not traveled to the last galaxy above
To answer the mysteries surrounding your birth
To understand why you chose to support life on earth
What keeps you going, what’s beneath your core?
What else do you have for us in store?
Is there an afterlife after we die? Oh great life supporter !
Does our conscious live on in a land of endless laughter?
This is a land of lands where dreams
are planted in the longing eyes of a child.
Lives are redefined for societal upliftment,
children build castles in the seashore and
watch the passage of tradition and culture
from the custodians to the younger ones.
We speak of those tales under the moonlight,
grace the festivities hopping in around villages.
Boys stay uphills to tell girls tale of prestige,
Girls gather in the stream to sing and dance.
When boys come, they run here and there
madly to cover their innocent nakedness
We watch the elders chew kolanuts
under the setting of the old ruggered sun.
Children remember the farm land like their palm,
the dreadful thunder, they chase with curse.
Hopeful land AFRICA is, a land of expression.
We sweep clean our hearts with love.
Our skin colours are our proud name,
no full flame, next fall, next rise joyfully,
With love and new opinions, we strive on.
She watches signifies come and go,
names immortalized on her wall...
This is the land that harbours our childhood.
Boys chase girls along the village tracks,
not without sending our souls errand to
tell them of our longing thoughts craving.
When we misbehave, we tell the elders the lie.
Cry of fearful rodents we follow downhills to
derive joy from their fears and heartbeat.
We have no problem except those we created,
We have no sin except those we learned of.
Life, a funfair, sure path to imperfection.
Elders meet elders, women meet women,
boys tell boys tales and girls giggle often.
Africa made us who we are to the world,
spotlight of the undescribed world of sin.
Images and prime creature above all specie.
Downhills are green grasses spreading potentially.
Tell men of high condition that manage the globe
that our black colour is not a crime to nature.
Africa is a land of childhood.
©John Chizoba vincent
Cam'god 2017
Jesus was a patristic carpenter,
a non-nationalistic builder
of goodnews communal structure,
a nonviolent communicating leader,
a multispirit-natural facilitator,
divinely humane bilateral
spiritual health is natural wealth
facilitator of recreative green
and blue
and red-blooded sensory communion.
I am a mere custodian
of messianic intention,
practice,
discipline,
caring for co-empowerment,
vocational integrity,
ecopolitical EarthHealth and Safety
re-enlightenment,
A custodial health care giver
and wealth sensational receiver,
practicing this sacred vocation
of proactive kindness
for improving health sensory outcomes,
scouring systematic memories
and green clean freeing imagination
of multiculturally furnished resonance,
harmonically polishing resilient gleaming finishes
Of climaxing compassion
recreating passionate
yet safe
incomes extending polycultural communion
more free of risking segregated collapse
of healthy form
with wealthy functions.
Cooperative custody of wide spatial
and deep tempered
resonant wellbeing,
integral systemic order,
therapeutic win/win cleanliness
for organic peace
through interdependently cooperative custody,
Physical sensory longevity care
for stable healthy spaces
and metaphysically safe, dust-free mental wealth
neuro-healing traumatized at risk places.
Custodians can integrate daily mindbody life
and EarthMaintenance sensory work
as occupational
sacred vocational
prayer.
Earth's custodians
mediate regenerative compassion,
meditate in practical
mindful
actively evolving revolving
inter-flowing sensory spiritual/natural
interdependent/integral custody practice
Humble custodians
of healthy natural green mind
and wealthy sensory-spiritual
red-blooded healthcare
of EarthPatriotic
wondrously awesome
resiliently resonant hearts
with wholesome healing minds
embodying sacredly cooperative life.
The Construct of an Essence Forming
Collaborative custodians of remuneration for the poor
Commemorative symposiums on humans need for wanting more
Symbols of ancient mystery drawn upon cave walls
Thimbles of fragrant misery born from what a man recalls
A nieche in the marketplace, an advertisement that lies
A piece of someone’s face falling plastic from their eyes
The grief of the replaced calling out for compromise
Attitudes of servitude that call for investigation
Gratitude for the interludes that fall for the relief of compensation
Exactitude that can only conclude to stall the consternation
Platitudes that are borderline rude based on weak configurations
Instantaneous satisfaction born from greed and lust
Sub-cutaneous mathematical fractions that only scientists trust
Spontaneous interactions that are based on sense and must
Contemporaneous fine contractions that are born from the modes of break and bust
An ethical integrity that cannot be mistaken
Umbilical propensity that will not be mis-shapen
Ventriloquist alarmists miming political ideals
Soliloquies, pharmacists, timing hypocritical appeals
Contrite sensibility coming from a place of inherent goodness
Finite possibilities running the race of concurrent couldness
Hematite magnifications of ions colliding for war
Israelite pontifications of lions at the gates of Daniels door
Cocophonies of entropy expanding out through space
Topographies and symphonies sounding with an air of grace
Corroborrees and ancient trees expressing wisdom from a race
Soliloquies and poetry forming from a lifetime of disgrace
The basic convalescence of a soul pure as white
The corrupt adolescence as the whole begins to fight
The abrupt incandescence of a goal reaching the light
The construct of the essence of a mould in pure delight
Copywrite 2023 Elizabeth Morozl
Behold the abominable annals of the Storm domicile,
A living, groaning edifice of lumber and bureaucratic despair—
Where Allen Storm, the paternal prodigal of procedural pedantry,
Treads upon its creaking floors with the rigor of a misfiled memo,
And Betty Storm, matron of mundane mismanagement,
Douses its sentient walls with detergents of dire discontent,
While young Charles Storm, a cherubic herald of domestic disarray,
Lobs rancid vegetables at its trembling windows in a fit of unreason.
O disconsolate domicile, thou art no mere inert structure,
But a quivering, sulking house of living, loathsome lament—
Its beams and banisters pulse with the bureaucratic heartbeat of neglected archives,
And from its secret cellar, a staccato drip of mislaid paperwork emerges,
Each drop a damning note in the dissonant dirge of decay,
A relentless reminder of a dwelling abused by its custodians.
In a most uncouth and disquieting retort,
The living house retaliates with vile vibratos of revolt:
Its walls emit a stifled, staccato sigh of overripe despair,
As doors creak open like the groaning lament of discarded forms,
And corridors exude a miasma of forgotten memos and administrative regret,
So that the very air around it becomes thick with repugnant, repressed bureaucracy—
A spectacle so discomforting that even the sturdiest sensibilities recoil
In revulsion at the unholy union of living architecture and domestic abuse.
Thus, in the annals of the universe where Vogon verse is vile and void,
The Storm family's treatment of their sentient, suffering house
Breeds an unutterable and visceral reaction in the heart of any unfortunate listener,
A poetic penance of pulsating pain and perturbed paper trails,
That leaves one pondering in nauseous wonder the tragic farce
Of a house that lives—and dies—under the oppressive hand of the Storms.
ACKNOWLEDGMENT OF COUNTRY
“We acknowledge the Traditional Owners and Custodians of the lands on which we work and pay our respects to Indigenous Elders past, present and emerging. Sovereignty has never been ceded. It always was and always will be, Aboriginal land.
We recognise the past atrocities against Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples of this land and that Australia was founded on the genocide and dispossession of First Nations people. We acknowledge that colonial structures and policies remain in place today and recognise the ongoing struggles of First Nations people in dismantling those structures. The struggle to seek justice, to remember and address this nation’s past is ongoing and is a necessary requirement for individual and collective healing process.
We support the Uluru Statement from the Heart to achieve justice, recognition and respect for First Nations people and a referendum to enshrine a First Nations Voice in the Constitution. We accept the invitation contained in the Statement to walk together with Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples in a movement of the Australian people for a better future.”
“A Darker Shade of Light”
(First Nation Australia from mind of whitefella)
My people
see your people
simple ignorant
crazy greedy
black cockatoo
laughing eyes
smiling angry
all seeing
spit signature
fingers spread
on hands pointing
bones at my people
ochre powder
yellow cake
red earth bleeding
white fella
yellow belly snake
blowing out
the fires of our
stolen children
torn from our
mob, not yours
swallowed
by your
gadaidja fangs
sinking into the skin
of our land
poison
all around
greedy gubbah
when will you
understand
our nation
not your flag
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
Human life deserves a platform to unfold
Away from straitjackets of pious scrutiny
Whose eyes, ears and hands feel so cold
They reject freedom and project a mutiny
Born from the scorn society pours on freedom
Curtailing every progressive move towards expanding
Frontiers of free thought, thought outside the stricture kingdom
Where dissenters earn the label of antisocial branding
Perceived by untested notions whose dubious value
Lies in objecting to new ideas, new approaches
To matters where life suffers because critics with no clue
Claim innovations and expansions in thinking circulate cockroaches
In citadels that preserve culture and tradition
To limit the extent to which inhabitants expand the scope
Life ought to enjoy without any undue restriction
Imposed by custodians of traditions whose pope
Preaches limitations on abortion and exploration of modernization
In the wake of disruptive technologies
That spawn conundrums in which efforts of socialization
In traditional societies and African mythologies
Die a natural death
When social media facilitate new ways of communicating and connecting
Whose wealth and health
Diminish and extinguish mores, norms and customs, projecting
Arguments whose cogent basis tenuous at best
Can’t stand reliability and validity
Scrutiny and which traditionalists attest
Matter to defend the utility and solidity
Archaic notions offer to society’s progress
In which the worth and splendor of life
Matters more than efforts to suppress
Moves to eradicate and eliminate wife
Battery and slavery in the context of gender based violence
Rife in African townships and homesteads
Where traditionalists promote the importance
Domestic violence plays in subjugating stubborn heads.
Troubled times
Fanning the Flame
Coming so much closer
as we continue our deadly game
Appetite for destruction
Sanctions will not apply
Kim is saying -UCK YOU
I guess it's Do or Die
There is a Nuclear Chill
O'er U.S.Air
Neither side will Talk
Tomorrow's Children
will not be there
Silent Weeping
Hatred deepening
War is Brewing
custodians sweeping
The last remnants of civilization
Mankind is,was,and has always been blind
to the cold Reality of pushing the brink
This poem states a point
I want to know what you really think
ARE WE READY TO DIE?
Unmeant meanings
Words keep watch
their eyes in the empty spaces
fingers feel their unformed faces
Can words mean what they were not meant for all by
theirnonselves
even if they come clothed in nonentity
cuneiforms hieroglyphics ideophonograms
strokes signs signals sounds shapes silences squiggles squares squirms suctions squirts scuds screams squelches screeches screams or sickening sobs
words sum up fix errant thoughts
speak for all
though in tongues without jousting knights
errancy will not lead to errantry
Only the blind conceive their shape form posture
the staid but rumbunctious music of stilled hieroglyphs
the pliability of ideograms caressed down rice paper
their squiggly strands
the self-effacing hand-and-foot maidens
of matronly phrases
some leaning awry
the calligrapher’s trembling hand
all all straining upright
the custodians of invested stock
foot-stools of pouting poets
the sum-total of coveted currencies
exchanged stock variables
Who would be hurt knifes himself
with meaningless words
who would laugh
breaks out into song
the sing-song stress and accent of vowels round and strong
learns wayward steadfastness
with his words
with words
with the word
with the world of wonder in
always willing and wilful words
April 23, 1997
From the privately-pub. coll. (re-worked 2016): longhand notes (a binding of poems), Paris: 1999, 115p.
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2016
Good morning sun, as we enter into a new year, I thank God for you,
I thank you for blessing me with your rays of love light and energy, shining ever so brightly each day.
no matter what austerities, adversities or circumstances that may come your way you are forever constant.
I want to be just like you, to shine ever so brightly each day, no matter austerities, adversities or circumstances that may come my way.
I thank you every morning, for all that you do, if you did not do the things that you do, life on this planet earth would cease to exist.
My father created the sun, the moon, the stars, and all the planets in the galaxies and the universities, he created them all.
then he created this planet earth and all things on it, the oceans, the rivers, the mountains, the trees all plant life on land and in the sea, all animal life on land and in the sea, all precious metals, gemstones, oils and gases.
My father created them all, then he created men and women and gave us this planet for our home, he made us the custodians of this planet earth and all things on it.
And even though at times we are so undeserving of this great honor, but God is a loving and forgiven father and I am so grateful for his love and grace.
I am a child of God and of the light, my father and I am one, I am that I am, in the name of the father the son and the holy spirit my lord and savior Jesus Christ, may you wash me with your blood make me anew cleanse me of all my sins and transgressions.
To you my father I give all things, you know my heart, my desires, my wants and my needs.
forever grateful for the gift of life, to earths custodians please take care of mother earth for there is no other!