Long Greedy Poems
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Hello Friend!
You are welcome!
Don’t underrate that we are boasting about ourselves.
Don’t treat us as the suppliers of the basic needs only.
Try to reach our inner voice.
When you get disturbed,
You can come and roam under this canopy.
You certainly feel the ambience pious and solicitous
The green cover soothes and cheers your heart.
You can regain your energy and confidence.
You know, your forefathers roamed happily in these glades.
Fairies often came down and rested here.
Knowing this, they used to worship us.
Their cultures and festivals were tied with us.
Believe it or not, still we can hear their voices lingering on in this air.
During autumn, we shed our leaves
And in spring we get the lost glory back.
We never get demoralized.
We know Life and its secrets.
“Service” is our motto.
You sit on chairs;
Sleep on cots;
Eat our fruits and nuts
Everything is being used - hides, herbs, roots, leaves and what not...
Store your valuables in the wooden boxes;
We die and transform into coffins to safeguard your corpse. Why?
We know the purpose of living.
Living or dying doesn’t matter.
Serving others gives the bliss of heaven.
Look at the age- old Oak trees
Standing like staunch pillars
They are symbols for strong determination and invincible spirit.
Our strength lies in our roots.
They are hidden in this soil.
The inner strength is superior to all.
Look at the mighty trees. How humble they are!
The calamities sometimes cause severe damage to us.
But we can withstand and revamp this pristine nature..
Is it not the sign of our perseverance?
Hundreds of creatures find their dwellings in us.
Are we not protecting them like a mother?
Dear friend,
Recall the moral of the story that you read in your childhood.
“Enjoy the egg but not be greedy and try not to cut open the hen.”
Remember,
Protecting trees means you are building a heaven for your grandchildren.
PLACED : 1ST
Wisdom from Trees Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Anoucheka Gangabissoon
Date: 19-05-2022
FOUND LOVE
She looked for a luscious dark chocolate seahorse
So in our dream reality we only see us
I said, put on your four eyes & peer into the deep.
Your hippocampus! She replies even in her sleep,
Giggling and nicely she squeals
I give her the reassurance of sounds and beats
And this twisted twirl of almond thrilled to bits
Now I see her footsteps greedy for the whole chocolates
My embolden footsteps echoes inside her past tears
As I throw my next steps inside hers like spears
No need now to strive for love or ego
We found love in each other long ago
Because the good path of "friendshipation"
Will probably take you to your destination
Whether you took the first step August or before
Know what you feel and be sure
Strike a cord, pluck good understanding
With each complexity of self notwithstanding
So we ride on waves of caring,
Sharing many times of laughter, joy and tears
Sharing all our smiles, pain and fears
Sharing secrets and mysteries with listening ears
We walked 8 long intense miles to get here
Wait!! Don't analyse the reasons
Love grows in due seasons
We're still learning our lessons
In being worthy & good persons
Now the fisher & the fish entangled in the hook
Oh God I could write a book
What you see of two is not a fluke.
VickWizzy
Vick Manuel Poetry {VMP}
Copyright©30th Friday, March, 2018.
Father your Son led
the holiest life ever lived by anyone;
did he deserve to die
in that atrocious way:
being scourged and whipped
spit on, and ridiculed?
Nobody wanted to carry
His cross but one!
Did He believe Satan's lie
that all the kingdoms
would have been His?
Father, your son had
compassion for sinners
and his forgiveness
taught us human kindness;
Christ was both human and divine,
He reopened the gate to Heaven
that whoever followed him would
have been saved and He rewarded
that believer with eternal life.
Father, don't look upon the inequity
of my sinful days, I was a snow flower
never feeling the warmth of the distant sun,
seeking pleasure in lust and greedy deeds;
I have finally awakened and realized my foolishness:
is my repentance enough to get atoned for my sins?
Under the red sun
Her long multicolored hair
And gold
She writes
Under the feverish sun
On each of her tiny letters
A rolling heart
A delicate offering
a liberating smile
She finished
It is night
She has finished
Under the green sun
A wing
Two wings
Three wings
A family of sparrows
comes to get the letters
To illuminate our dreams
She closes her eyes
It is dark night
She opens her eyes
Under the golden sun
Of his mind
She sends
greedy messages
of peace and freedom
without worrying about disturbing
the frozen hearts
She laughs
It is night
She smiles
The thread she has woven
On her multicolored facets
opens new horizons
where richness is an inner strength
that allows us to offer ourselves and to offer
magical and multicolored moments.
She sings
It is night
She sings
While watching my parents being mugged and killed
At age thirty-one my calling was revealed
Got bitten by a rare deadly bug
While surviving a nuclear blast so snug
In a exploding toxic waste dump
As a comic meteor from outer space bumps
Than slams down to earth in front of my face
As the Sun's solar flare burns me in place
While I constantly am being zapped gory
By strange energy from a mad scientist laboratory
Of an intention gone bad but meant to be good
This stuff can't even happen in Hollywood
Of course this little mishap is for the best
Because you now know the rest
Just give me the mask, cape, tights and ring
Now I'm doing the Super Hero Thing
Vision of a thousand eagles
Able to smell with the might of a hungry beagle
Hearing keen, good looks and clean
I can do this Super Hero Thing
Strenght, as strong as a mighty hurricane
Both weak and strong know my Super Name
Invisable if the need and super fast with super speed
Fighting crime, the evil and those with greedy greed
Save the world by saving the sexy pretty girls
There are fringe benefits saving the world
Than loving them in my known name
Super Heros know no shame
Can transform and can fly being good is my high
Using super gadgets and with super powers I thrive
Save the world daily and through the night
While keeping a secret identity is my biggest plight
As a playboy billionaire paperboy photographer
While moonlighting as a mild manner court stenographer
Sidekicks, Villans and the public at large
There need for my fame gives me a super charge
Be it Truth Justice and the American Way
Or just mindless vengeance in play
With Great Power comes Great Responsibilty
And a winning smile and dynamic personality
Still one day it must all come to an end
I must pass the cape to a younger super friend
In the comic world I will be glorified
With a TV series and Movies deal magnified
People will always remember my Super Name
I will always live through my Super Fame
But when I go I'll be just an average Joe
The world will never really know
The guy with the mask, cape, tights and ring
Who saved the world by saving the girl doing the Super Hero Thing
beneath the sands where time and shadows meet
there lies the tomb of one who cursed his breath
a pharaoh bound by pride his own defeat
entombed in gold and wrapped in linen death
his sightless gaze guards treasures in his depth
his name is lost but still his power stays
a ghostly force to haunt the desert’s haze
to those who seek his wealth with greedy hands
beware the curse that waits in shifting sands
no gems or gold will save you from his wrath
his vengeance lies in every winding path
the dunes will turn and bury where you stand
and whispers fill the air to mock your cries
as ancient winds ensure no soul survives
turn back now traveler leave his tomb behind
or feel the weight of centuries confined
this pharaoh guards his world with ruthless might
his curse will haunt you far beyond the night
the desert’s song will claim your heart and mind
a warning left to echo in the gloom
beware the curse that lingers in his tomb
Hell
sinners are destined
for inferno domain or hell,
holding nine circles.
levels in series
set in discrimination
on expiation.
first circle , limbo
home for unbaptised, pagans
to spend after life.
second circle, lust
wind - buffered place for lustful
and adulterous.
gluttony the third
with plenty icy rain- slush
to shelter foodies.
greed the fourth circle
for wicked money grubbers
selfish greedy guys.
fifth circle, anger
for those wrathful angry souls
engaged in battling.
sixth circle heresy
choked with modern grievances
ruining childhood.
violence, the seventh
with rings full of blood and fire
for ruthless killers.
eighth circle, fraud
as giant cubicle farm,
place for all fraudsters.
treachery the ninth,
a frozen waste land meant for
historic traitors.
make own home heaven
with truth, love and honesty,
not to visit hell.
03/ 26/23
They come in all shapes and sizes,
some wear badges and some disguises.
Some I remember and some I forget
but here are some bastards I have met…
The dumb bastard (duh, a clueless stupid ignorant bastard)
The sly bastard
The lucky bastard
The greedy bastard
The silly bastard
The cold bastard (perhaps better known as a heartless bastard)
The stubborn bastard
The whinging bastard
The bad bastard
The rat bastard
The lazy bastard (not to be confused with the fat bastard)
The dirty bastard
The ungrateful bastard
The mad bastard
The ruthless bastard
The cocky bastard (much the same as an insufferable bastard)
The cheating bastard
The ugly bastard
The clever bastard
The real bastard
The mean bastard (a less nasty version of the evil bastard)
The two-faced bastard
The lying bastard
The thieving bastard
The old bastard
The total bastard (yep, just a proper complete and utter bastard)
The grumpy bastard
The wild bastard
The bloody bastard
The f-ing bastard
A right bastard (truly delights and revels in his bastardry)
Now I won’t name and shame you
cos I know I can be a bastard too.
But that’s between me and my Maker
and I pray it’s not a deal-breaker!
Written: June 2025
I didn't want anyone
to have a sad Christmas,
so I roamed Manhattan's star-decorated streets,
where many a homeless weeps...
where was I to find that someone,
if not in that corner where a barrel fire was?
By God's grace, I found that unhappy person in ragged clothes
to give my four presents to,
ending the drama of his woe
by bringing coat, shoes, gloves and a long scarf
to erase the misery of a beggar whose cold night was rough;
he widely smiled when I leaned forward and offered him my gifts!
Bewildered folks wearing the latest fashion attire, did not have
the decency of stooping down and give him a single quarter,
and doing so they killed the Christmas' spirit entirely...
a generous spirit well-known in this city; yes, my anger
could have made me lash out at them with indignation,
but realizing how greedy people can be withholding love:
I gasped in relief to discover a creche of our Savior so cheery
along the festive Fifth Avenue to get rid of my frustration!
What I found there was a Heaven-inspired sight
of gleaming angel's hovering the stable announcing Christ's glorious birth...
while beneath bang-pipers and trumpets players, glowing with mirth,
accompanied the youngest choir singing, "Holy Night."
Perhaps venturing out in the cold of the wealthiest city,
gave me the opportunity to realize the hidden goodness of kind souls
that give away their humble presents in various forms,
not expecting anything in return...but rejoice in the delightful sound of harmony.
It rained on and on.
the fire in the hearth
had long died out.
hunger grew,
frustration raged.
vultures swooped down
to feed on flesh in the night
half willing, half resenting,
surrendered, rather subdued,
desire spilled over,
bristles pricking
from organ to organ
thrusting and tearing
devouring in greedy gulp
waves surged past the log
passion spent,
hunger appeased,
purse strings loosened,
silver coins tinkled.
amply paid,
her wages of shame……!
the toil not wasted!
nights came one by one
creatures of the night frequented her more often
and the scenes were constantly replayed
though she abhorred them,
there was no other go, but yield
‘exploring hands encounter(ed) no defense’.
each night closed in smutty h(r) ut,
when the h(r)ut turned a prostitute,
she started to rot.
feeble she grew,
languid she became,
body thinned,
energy waned,
ailments plagued,
and
immunity lost!
now,
she lives an outcast.
a luscious fruit
blighted by the worms!
no more nocturnal invaders…..
no inebriated blather falls in her ears
only the hoot of owls !
___________________________
June.16.2022
Placed Fourth
Creatures of the Night Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Julia Ward