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Dion Penville Poem
Oh! How difficult is peer pressure,
It is the identity measurer.
It is knowing who you really are,
When others say you are not who you are.
It forces you to measure up,
To things that you should give up.
It causes you to lower your standards,
To follow those who are wayward.
It leads to unbalanced compromise,
That results in your own demise.
So, don’t bow to peer pressure’s tyranny,
Your own identity is your destiny.
End
By: Dion Penville
Copyright © Dion Penville | Year Posted 2017
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Dion Penville Poem
Everything Must Count...
Everything I do and say must count,
Even if; it is only a small amount.
Everything must have a positive effect,
For the image of God I must reflect.
The lives that I help to rearrange,
All must be definitely, positively changed.
The advice that I give, must enlighten;
The future and lives of people; brighten.
Because I know the solution to every problem,
Jesus, He alone can solve them.
End
By: Dion Penville
Copyright © Dion Penville | Year Posted 2014
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Dion Penville Poem
‘Out’-discipline!
“Teacher, beaten by student.” “Student stabs another in squabble.”
“Teachers found without Lesson Plan.” “Noise level unbearable.”
Unfortunately, these would only be a few of the sordid headlines;
To duly ‘captivate’ readers, if every school had its own newsletter.
The very fabric of our beloved society has become deteriorated;
Because our homes and schools have failed to function effectively.
The consequences of this failure are dramatic and far-reaching.
Therefore, immediate redress for this chaos, we should be seeking,
Teachers frequently liming; the nation’s youths, we not educating.
Usually unprepared: for work, at work; and, not completing work.
The students are not: studying, doing home-work, nor assignments.
All busy; yet, finding time for gambling, hustling, surfing porn, etc...
The school surroundings depicting ‘pollution party;’ absolutely nasty.
Manners no longer, “maketh man...” nor woman, much-less children.
This is every school’s catastrophe; total, complete, present-day anomie.
Bending/breaking rules, norms, morals or ethics - ‘perfect’ indiscipline.
Indiscipline! Everyone fed-up: teachers, students; even the parents.
Who is now responsible? Corrective measures must make statements.
‘Heads must roll’ for incompetence; ‘butts should burn’ for laziness.
Neither students nor teachers must be ‘late for school,’ or ‘bussing a lime’.
Punishment must definitely be meted out for disrespect to teachers.
Actions must be taken for insubordination, and also for instigation.
Indiscipline must be addressed immediately and harshly, to redress...
We fed-up! We taking absolutely drastic measures to ‘iron-out’ this mess.
End
By: Dion Penville
Copyright © Dion Penville | Year Posted 2017
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Dion Penville Poem
I Remember...
I Remember
Especially today, the beauty radiated by you;
You… all my hopes and dreams come through.
That lush, radiant unforgettable face;
The inner quality that spreads true grace.
Those mixed experiences that we conquered;
Precious, enchanting moments that we conjured.
Those intimate conversations that showed bliss;
Comforting hugs that tell you were missed.
All those tears that were seldom spilled;
Remains the times when we were not thrilled.
Numerous times that you said, I love you;
Those magical words returned by me, to you.
Thus, I daily recall precious, cherished moments,
Filled with warm hugs, kisses and sweet comments.
From then, to this time…and I’m appreciating you,
From today, tomorrow and all my life through.
End
By: Dion Penville
Copyright © Dion Penville | Year Posted 2014
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Dion Penville Poem
You are the one
You are the one:- I always think of daily
- I pray for constantly
- I smile at sweetly
- I confide in securely
- I listen to assuredly
- I treasure dearly
- I sacrifice for, whole-heartedly
-I am friendly with, unendingly
You are my, very dear friend.
End
By: Dion Penville
Copyright © Dion Penville | Year Posted 2014
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Dion Penville Poem
Only a baby?
You got to be joking! This little thing!?! This tiny being!?! A little baby!?!
This is the one to be my Saviour!?! He, will give me, life eternally?
Hmmm, this is stretching me! I got to be crazy to swallow this story.
A big man like me; rescued by a baby; smelling of cattle and poultry.
I must admit, his parents look ok; but, He ain’t got no muscle;
My Redeemer!?! He never had a cold, flue, mumps, nor measles.
He’s totally helpless; in swaddling clothing, lodged in a manger;
He can’t tell left from right; black, from white; safety, from danger.
How can He save me from my sins? He ain’t know how many I got;
I’ve been sinning so long; I would not even give me another shot.
I’ve stolen, cheated, hated, lusted, lied and fornicated frequently;
What can this baby do, to make me change my ways, repentantly?
I only know the ways of the world; the streets are my daily beat;
What can this little baby do to help me, to make my ends meet?
This big man got a wife and children; I got to take home cheese;
I’m frustrated; if this little baby can be of any help; tell me please.
My life, children, and wife cause much pressure; and I confess, stress;
Will the little being have enough peace to add comfort to my distress?
I heard people say that the baby is King of Kings; and Lord of Lords;
It’s hard to believe; seems almost completely absurd. I’m lost for words.
The prophets said He will be as amazing, as the Good book prophesy;
I’m starting to believe; will He change me; so I can also testify?
I’m putting my ego and pompous attitude aside; got to be humble;
And give reverence to the New-born king; though only a swaddling bundle.
The ‘little baby’ did it: humbled Himself and became as a lowly man;
To live as we live; feel, what we felt – yet, function, as the Divine Son.
He made the supreme sacrifice: gave up every divine privilege, for us all;
For our redemption sake – Salvation and life eternal; even after the “Fall.”
End
By: Dion Penville
Copyright © Dion Penville | Year Posted 2014
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Dion Penville Poem
Life is extremely short:
To have friends and watch them hurt,
To have ideas; and then abort,
To judge others; no matter their ‘worth’,
To encourage stereotype of any sort,
Don’t waste life; it is much too short,
Cherish and enjoy it: from womb to dirt.
End
By: Dion Penville
Copyright © Dion Penville | Year Posted 2017
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Dion Penville Poem
Just For You...
Because you are loved, I wrote to you.
Since I miss you, and cherish you;
I now show my appreciation for you.
I harnessed my numerous thoughts;
Then transcribed them into words,
Just for you...
Daily, you are a feature in my mind;
So, I send sweet texts to encourage.
Timely calls, to make you feel missed.
Thus, strengthening our friendship,
Just for you...
Thank you: for being a good friend;
- Good memories; past and to come.
- Precious moments only friends share.
Because of that and more I wrote this;
Just for you...
End
By: Dion Penville
Copyright © Dion Penville | Year Posted 2014
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Dion Penville Poem
I’m calling you out!
Many ‘came and went,’ but after George Floyd, I thought it was done;
Now, two more possibly got hanged, and another, shot with a gun.
‘Black disrespect’ is real! In the midst of protesting over the same;
These ‘white’ cops perpetrated this undeniably racist act once again.
I couldn’t believe it; their actions were, brazen, brash and so blatant;
What about the ‘moot’ “Protect and Serve,” despicable public servant.
What is this grievous genocidal trend – when will this nightmare end?
How long will we be brutally broken – until there’s nothing left to mend?
Imagine; I quote; “You scared me man, because you were sleeping in the car;”
As an appropriate and valid reason or excuse; that is fetched way too far.
The suspect is drunk; scuffled with the cops and then fled from them terrified;
Then, the ‘scared’ cops shot Rayshard Brooks; and this deadly act they justified.
Every good citizen; as well as, criminals have Rights, under the Constitution;
Unfortunately, ‘Blacks’ are not rendered those rights; and it’s no new revelation.
So, when!?! When will the infringement on our rights be rectified, with equity?
Whom!?! Who will be bold enough to willfully act and change this travesty?
End
By: Dion Penville
Copyright © Dion Penville | Year Posted 2020
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Dion Penville Poem
Wrongful Imprisonment
I am bowing again, in prison, no advocate to plead my case;
Forcefully constrained: by years and years of hardship and lack.
Believing, this was meant to be; this was all I was meant to be;
Who will render help to me? Who will compassionately deliver me?
Who!?! Who will relieve me of these chains? Who will set me free?
Who will truly inspire and influence my ideas to flow freely again?
If not you, who? If not you my psyche; who, who will ease this strain?
And revive, reactivate, reinvigorate and re-energise this slothful brain.
It has been a long sentence; the longevity of this imprisonment has expired;
Psyche, you have to arise, rekindle the fire; for betterment, wholly desire.
Divorce the priceless treasures of bronze shackles and the iron chains;
A new day dawns; a better purpose awaits; visualise beyond the boundaries.
No limits! None! No limits to my imagination, no limits to my life’s ambitions!
I have been paroled, I have another opportunity; I must fulfil my destiny.
I must fully reverse the effects of African degradation and slavery!
I must transform by renewing my mind: when I think liberty, I will be free!
End
By: Dion Penville
Copyright © Dion Penville | Year Posted 2014
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