Heirloom is kept as family’s treasure
Legacy of cultural values’ worth
Defying heritage-loss amidst dearth
Yon third generation-wealth’s exposure.
Transcending all modernization-trends
While transformed for functional need
Heirloom’s style exudes our forefathers’ creed
Expressing close ties among clans and friends.
Grateful to have worn such heirloom with pride
I praise the Lord* for my lineage that’s blest
Around home’s warmth and parental care’s zest
Cherishing to stay in the victor’s side.
Winning “Best Costume” for this heirloom’s seal
My heart does soar toward triumphant flight
Then photo displays thanksgiving delight
Revealing gracious patriotism zeal.
*Psalm 34:1 I will bless the Lord at all times: his praise shall continually be in my mouth.
June 17, 2026
10th place, "THE MARVELOUS THINGAMAJIG" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Daniel Henry Rodgers; judged on 7/2/2026
From early on, I have known
That she is a gift from God.
I have always wanted every fiber
of my being to be satiated with her.
Dare to give her a fighting chance,
and she will cause you to dance,
energizing you to thrive and advance,
causing our lives to be greatly enhanced.
She will serve you with her whole heart.
She's a loyal friend and will stand by you to the end.
She is very passionate but also highly sensitive.
She is well-equipped to assist you in your destiny.
Never forcefully get in your way, but she will always
stay if you desire and need her. She is never
intimidated by hi-tech or modernization; nor does
she feel inferior to convoluted sophistication.
They were not blessed with houses and lands to leave me,
but my parents and grandmother gifted me with her
and insisted that I never let go of her. I will therefore
leave plenty of her to my descendants. I tell you,
she has become a rare commodity in our modern society.
Moreover, like all precious things, her rarity makes her
all the more desirable. So, my friend, from the depths of
my heart, I beg of you. GIVE COMMON SENSE A CHANCE.
Depression is a shape poem
A difficult one in times of contemplation
A shape that gets you, almost in nothingness
Whispers darkness in the valley of your chest.
Where the minaret stood in the bed of the eternity
Till the very last minute, that along the way, divinity sent
Modernization knew demolishing much too well
and much too vivid in the end, to stress what it meant.
Oozing secretion dampens in cold and clutters on and on...
And we call it the pseudo-pen
That mentors to shift the shape
Straight path should be the straightest one, to be frank,
My utterance calms me there
As it does mostly, unconditionally enough
And I knew along the way, that
God is enough for any befitting pay stubs
To carve with a knife on any life, whatsoever.
Man is mortal.
The modernization of Shakespeare plays
'theater' for the unversed
Catering to narrow appetites
increases their bloody thirst
A symbol of vulnerability
with implausible durability;
master at misrepresentation,
a bolster of modernization.
Praised for its lucidity,
nowise for its amorphicity;
such is human disposition,
seldom beholding composition.
A motif of permanence,
marking time’s impermanence.
Encapsulating sand and time,
an hourglass, marking life’s chime.
Made to be admired,
Only to be called 'uninspired’.
Its perspicuity appreciated by the unaware;
coloured, its vibrance ready to ensnare.
Weened to be understood and known,
yet, only misunderstood and unknown;
for such is the mystery of glass,
unable to be deciphered in a single pass.
Shattered and broken oft,
only to be restored aloft,
never seeming to age;
such is beauty when taken from an age-old page.
Behind us, lay five millennia of innovation.
Ahead, shall lie an eternity of appreciation;
for it is important lessons that we learn,
when observing Nature and her glassy urn.
Ballad
by William Soutar
translation/modernization by Michael R. Burch
O, surely you have seen my love
Down where the waters wind:
He walks like one who fears no man
And yet his eyes are kind!
O, surely you have seen my love
At the turning of the tide:
For then he gathers in his nets
Down by the waterside!
Yes, lassie we have seen your love
At the turning of the tide:
For he was with the fisher folk
Down by the waterside.
The fisher folk worked at their trade
No far from Walnut Grove:
They gathered in their dripping nets
And found your one true love!
Keywords/Tags: William Soutar, Scottish, Scot, Scotsman, ballad, water, waterside, tide, nets, nets, fisher, fishers, fisher folk, fishermen, love, sea, ocean, lost, lost love, loss
Kudos!
LINES lament liquidation.
Modernization masks MARKS,
Neglecting neonatal nemesis.
Virginity vanished-- 's value validity;
Vulnerable voters' vows
Vote voluntarily.
A calling from the greens
A call came calling,
a call from the greens,
the green of the greens,
hey that is mother nature calling.
Mother nature came calling,
came calling to curve our attention,
to our obscured self destruction programme,
that we call modernization.
A call came calling,
it mother nature on the line,
she said the animals are complaining
that they are becoming more sensible than us.
She said,the animals are grumbling,
that modernization is infact,
a coated word for murdernization,
that we had better watch out.
She said the animals are murmuring,
that we are developing a debased mind,
doing things which are not befitting,
all in the name of modernization.
I wanted to ask for the solution,
but she said she had to hung up for her call card is about to end,
that mostly, power has been restored for days now,
so she hung up, leaving me in despair.
Modernization will never complete Materialistically
It asks for moral and spiritual support
As man is too careless
To avoid repeating historical errors
As man is too selfish to share the enriched future
Many parts of the world still underdeveloped
And poverty instead of modernization rules them
Tradition and culture
A form of heritage from the ancestors
A way of living
A way of finding similarity
A way of finding the origin
A way to compare the old and the new
A way to measure modernization
A way to cling to
So that you are not lonely
And not lost
In this world
Patience
by Rabindranath Tagore
loose translation/interpretation/modernization by Michael R. Burch
If you refuse to speak, I will fill my heart with your silence and endure it.
I will remain still and wait like the night through its starry vigil
with its head bent low in patience.
The morning will surely come, the darkness will vanish,
and your voice will pour down in golden streams breaking through the heavens.
Then your words will take wing in songs from each of my birds' nests,
and your melodies will break forth in flowers in all my forest groves.
Keywords/Tags: patience, Tagore, translation, Bengali, heart, heartbreak, silence, night, stars, vigil, darkness, voice, streams, heaven, birds, songs, nests, melodies, flowers, groves
My passion for you
can lately be seen,
beneath;
the electric stars of night,
no matter how synthetic
this may seem,
my love for you,
shines true and bright,
how this path,
was made to lay,
no choice of mine exist;
call it,
modernization,
if I may;
for finding love
on the web
can be swift
Dark nights and bright blue mornings
My Back against the wall,
Foot on the moon
Arm strong: I'm carrying the world,
The youth taking over!
Lets just hope we don't repeat-
the same mistakes our folks brought to this life,
From fighting for skin color to gender
And Tackling phobias,
Its tough being a human
From individuality; family; clan
And races like we racing toward something!
Call that civilization's game,
The great Olympics...
The torch lit up!
I wonder which nationality will win?
Human beings fighting for everything
Is there anything we don't fight for?
Premature species: O how we need our mother!
Nature and modernization: how we do so much for the other,
Father time: the decaying reality
Uncle Sam: O how he wants to put us back in the story.
Selfie the great lose of self
Snap shots but nothing captured,
Money makes the world go round
But the world never made money!
Humans and machines to
Robots and Androids,
Artificial intelligence: the mechanical system,
Evolution of mankind to androgynous beings,
Eugenics to cosmetics-
Beauty as ideal and knowledge for the elderly,
The formulated world and make up so expensive!
I have been walking and walking
All I see is poverty, desperation
Good folks selling their souls,
To put food on the table
While the notorious bunch
Contemplate in round tables,
Making sure the world is hell and heaven
The dirty modernization,
Swiped by demons that they casted,
Goblins as children
Women as slaves and soldier breeders,
The ludicrous in this world,
Her Beauty is everything
But man pinned and pushed her
Now we enjoy sour lemons to buying sugar, so life taste better.
Dresses of roses
Garments red in winter,
With finest silk
Life such a beauty!
Jewels of gold, black robes,
White shining through the night
Watching the world through my art
Reading symbols, those codes,
Messages from the unknown to the plane
So my work is gods plan,
From jeans to shirts and cocky ties
Death dresses formal
While life lives in agony,
People crying; the unborn babies
Earth as her whole,
Mother moon to father sun
The galaxy, our family.
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