I know a funeral when I walk into one
I can tell between a funeral and a burial
They are two entirely different artworks
One is done on grand canvas, with drunken strokes
Of sashaying brush and bleeding paints;
The other is done on mere sand, with foot and hand,
Forming sandcastles built by toddlers.
I know too well because I have my senses
Intact after the last funeral I attended on a gambolling coast.
I should know because I participated in the burial of a
Village lout, a wretched lord, so grand with contumely.
Funeral lasts for days and contains the sounds of cannons
And other elements of ceremonies, so loud, so eloquent,
So ceremonious —full of man and illiterate beasts.
A burial, on the other penurious hand,
Reeks of haste, attended by a teething crowd —
And at times comes with thunder that speaks in jest
And a lightning whose light flickers on all things subpar.
participated
when we were violated
annihilated
Good works, like a father to his children, you had performed.
Their life, like honeybees preparing their comb, you had formed.
Days and nights, in their struggles, you had participated.
Yet, their blind faith and belief in false gods you had hated.
To Bethsaida, you said that it should repent from its ways.
Would plants and shrubs that hide under trees feel the spring sun's rays?
They had bogged down in whirls of sins and never repented.
Trespasses in them, like fine poison in hemlock, fermented.
Indifference, like stale sewage, brewed in Capernaum.
In senseless pleasures, they had lost their equilibrium.
They fled from your friendship as though phasmophobia.
In musings of mundane mammon, they found euphoria.
Lack of faith and panic to change had taken their deep roots.
You shook their shoots and roots to make them bring forth righteous fruits.
It would be easier
carry the world
on the back,
if everyone participated
with your shoulder...!
The soldier let out a wounded sigh,
And tried hard not to cry.
The battlefield was now bloody,
And thanks to a torrential rain, it was quite muddy.
It all started with his deployment to Iraq.
Everything he needed was in his green sack.
He knew he had a job to do,
And that's when he met Jerry and Lou.
Jerry and Lou came from the Netherlands,
And soon, the three of them were the best of friends.
The soldier was chosen to be a guide.
He led them down brown, dusty roads, narrow and wide.
They participated in plenty of drills,
Going up and down the hardest of hills.
One day, their troup got an unexpected surprise.
The enemy was staring them dead in their eyes.
After the battle was over, it was just as the soldier feared.
Jerry and Lou had both been speared.
The soldier's mind was now somber and sad,
As he attended to all the wounds he had.
My mom and dad had an effective parenting technique…
They were never too strict…unfair…or mean…
They were constantly reminding me how our family tree
is not deciduous…but an evergreen.
How each year our tree grows taller…
How I am but one branch upon that tree.
How all I have to do is look up…
so see my ancestors watching over me.
Yes, it’s been quite easy finding meaning and balance…
keeping my life in sync.
because before I say or do anything
I look up…then ask my self…what would my ancestors think?
I’ve had this wonderful feeling all my life…that I’ve never been alone.
It’s brought me peace and happiness…no matter how old I’ve grown
My ancestors have always been with me ever since I was a little boy
They’ve shared in all may sadness…they’ve participated in all my joy.
In everything I do I try to honor those who came before me…
It is my hope I’ve given my ancestors reasons to adore me….
And I like to think I’ll be ready…when it’s my turn…
when it comes time or me…
to join my ancestors as we watch over
the newest branches growing on our family tree..
What would we have achieved
When the last bullet's fired
Punishment received
For those that desired
War
Why did the innocent have to die?
What was their crime?
Where does the answer to this question lie
Is it a case of wrong place, wrong time?
Perhaps we are not so innocent after all,
We, who participated in these many wars
All with the same outcome as before
That is why people die.
As the sound of the bullet fades away
Into a place unknown
There will be nobody left to kneel and pray
Dead and left to face their fate alone.
Many dogs of different breeds participated in a race. Dogs were so excited because free food for one year is at stake. The dog race is the yearly adoption program for owned and stray dogs in selected communities. Whichever dog wins, the winner will be adopted by the sponsor for one year.
In the early going of the one mile-race, a Collie and a German Shepherd were leading, but in the end a smaller and less popular dog won the race. Everybody was surprised because the winner is a poodle.
Many dogs asked the poodle how he did it. The poodle said that the collie and the sheperd were arguing about the lake on the side of the road as to who is the better swimmer. Due to overconfidence, they swam for a while because all other dogs are left behind in the race. They even swam against the water current, proving who has a better stamina.
The poodle was only one meter ahead of the early two when the winner reached the finish line.
we must have forgotten...
the pyramid's foundation, rotten.
Physiological begets Safety.
shadowing the State of coercion, states thee.
opt-in by creation, opt-out, your expiration.
tread on me and my countrymen.
volition ours, to sunder friends?
participated.
regulated.
complied.
the time, overdue.
ask not what your country can do for you.
Participation
I like to observe people, and the way they talk and act.
My dog observing me, knows when she has done
something wrong I’m angry, she also knows
my anger I mixed with love.
As a talented dog, she reads other people's minds also
baring her teeth if she thinks they are antagonistic.
I was a member of a Scandinavian group my dog
didn’t like them, so I quit.
I’m not a real poet if I sound like one it is entirely
by accident; however, I have written a few books
of vignettes, they serve the distinctions of not being read.
I never bother about this side; what is written stands
like a beacon that tells me I also participated.
I
This poem us based on Scripture, Ephesians 2:6, usually the author ascribed is Paul.
II
We participated in his life
And especially his death
A mystery, gift melting strife
Through Spirit of God, divine work
Now, as he rose, we rose as well
Again a great and sublime mystery
Relation with heirs helps spell
Out how we thus live above misery
Easier would be
load the world
on the back,
if everyone participated
with his shoulder... !
Six people confessed to the murders of four.
Police detectives were consternated.
This many confessions had never happened before.
This was totally unanticipated.
Other homeless people lined the police station door.
Police said “Now, these jail cells are overrated.”
In a week the confessions numbered twenty-four.
Free room and board for all those who participated.
he participated in bringing you here
my precious one ...I thank God for you as I stare at you in loving awe — mixed with fear
cause daddy is here—yet gone
how can he be under the same roof with us; yet we’re alone
it appears all he wanted was to spread his seed;
naive to your emotional needs
I’ll do my best in hopes you don’t follow his lead
clearly not God’s intent for raising you
which is why God made it so that procreating takes two
Imagine
A world without machine's
Not a single hand going redundant
Everyone with a specific skill or craft
Whatsoever that may be
We the people the tool's of industry
Based on our endeavour we
human beings design
That we ourselves could then make
build and construct
Everyone took pride in and participated
in making
No 1 or less important than the sum
of all it's part's
Valued equally as an integral cog
in the chain along the line
And sharing in all it's benefits alike
Every single individual both housed
and well fed before bed
Imagine
What a world without machine's
Would actually be like
If people we're all though of
As alike
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