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Little Leprechaun I don't want your gold in your little black *** and don't want your wishes with your sketchy after thoughts. I would just like your heartfelt friendship and a little luck.
Michel Robert Triska copyright 2024
Nomkhumbulwa Aug 2023
Home is calling
I hear it's voice
It's arms wide open
An African embrace

I smell the grass
Feel the soil on my feet
My focus on home
Runs so so deep

The warmth, the freedom
The people, the trees,
Africa is calling
Like a song in the breeze

My roots are grounded
So firmly planted
A long time before
Colonialism started

I see jacarandas
I hear hyenas
Joyful singing
Dancing till morning

The wide smiles
Cheerful eyes
Ubuntu is everything
Under these skies

The sun is glowing
On a wide African sky
Insects chirping
As the sun says goodbye

From all over Africa
Came my people
To my tiny land
Of my heritage

I'm there in spirit
I dream every night
Ask ancestors to guide me
Back home when the time is right

To sit with the baobab
To feel the connection
Something so deep
In my soul, a protection

To go back in time
At mighty Magelies
Sit in silence
In the area of our birthplace

The cradle of humankind
Is not just a name
It's real, still there
A place from where we all came

As old as the hills
An English saying
Well here you can feel it
These hills have seen everything

The warmth
The safety
The love
The humility

And my motherland
Isolated, alone,
A jewel in the ocean
Where few of us call home

I feel the longing
To be back
With my brothers and sisters
My soul is black

Nothing fills the void
Of our heritage calling
Africa, St Helena,
Calling and calling

Africa is ours
St Helena is mine
Those not visited
Won't understand

My roots are firm......

Nomkhumbhulwa 🍀
For heritage month
Nat Lipstadt May 2022
If we are mark’d to die, we are enow
    To do our country loss; and if to live
    The fewer men, the greater share of honour.
    God’s will! I pray thee, wish not one man more.

    By Jove, I am not covetous for gold,
    Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost;
    It yearns me not if men my garments wear;
    Such outward things dwell not in my desires:

    But if it be a sin to covet honour,
    I am the most offending soul alive.
    No, faith, my coz, wish not a man from England:
    God’s peace! I would not lose so great an honour

    As one man more, methinks, would share from me
    For the best hope I have. O, do not wish one more!
    Rather proclaim it, Westmoreland, through my host,
    That he which hath no stomach to this fight,

    Let him depart; his passport shall be made
    And crowns for convoy put into his purse:
    We would not die in that man’s company
    That fears his fellowship to die with us.

    This day is call’d the feast of Crispian:
    He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
    Will stand a tip-toe when this day is named,
    And rouse him at the name of Crispian.

    He that shall live this day, and see old age,
    Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbors,
    And say ‘Tomorrow is Saint Crispian:’
    Then he will strip his sleeve and show his scars,

    And say ‘These wounds I had on Crispin’s day.’
    Old men forget: yet all shall be forgot,
    But he’ll remember with advantages
    What feats he did that day: then shall our names

    Familiar in his mouth as household words:
    Harry the king, Bedford and Exeter,
    Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester,
    Be in their flowing cups freshly remember’d,

    This story shall the good man teach his son;
    And Crispin Crispian shall ne’er go by,
    From this day to the ending of the world,
    But we in it shall be remembered;

    We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
    For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
    Shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile,
    This day shall gentle his condition:

    And gentlemen in England now abed
    Shall think themselves accursed they were not here,
    And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
    That fought with us upon Saint Crispin’s day.
St. Crispin’s Day

By William Shakespeare

“Memorial  Day inspires mixed emotions: pride in the valor of those who gave their lives in the cause of freedom; sorrow that such self-sacrifice should have been necessary. Pride in past valor may be best expressed in the St. Crispin’s Day speech from “Henry V” (Act IV, Scene iii), delivered by the young king on the eve of the Battle of Agincourt”
fearfulpoet May 2020
among the millions who have never served, or wore uniform,
thought about it, was discouraged, and luck of the lottery,
the only one I’ve ever won, was #359 in the Vietnam draft,
cause my birthday was October X, and thus, stayed alive

yet, when, every time, hearing Henry V recite his battle speech,
copious weep that I was not there, for the deep need in my soul,
I too well ken, that I ne’er had the opportunity to become one of
a company, a band of brothers, this stripe, missing from my arm

would I have served if called? do not be absurd, the war was idiocy,
but that would not have prevented me from the chance, the luck,
to have been beside men, who would forevermore be mine, be my
very own band brothers...perhaps you think me mad, perverse,
not so, the bonds that formed such, gentle men for ever better...

“From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered;
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition
^ Pride in past valor may be best expressed in the St. Crispin’s Day speech from “Henry V” (Act IV, Scene iii), delivered by the young king on the eve of the Battle of Agincourt.

By William Shakespeare (1564-1616)


If we are mark’d to die, we are enow
To do our country loss; and if to live
The fewer men, the greater share of honour.
God’s will! I pray thee, wish not one man more.
By Jove, I am not covetous for gold,
Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost;
It yearns me not if men my garments wear;
Such outward things dwell not in my desires:
But if it be a sin to covet honour,
I am the most offending soul alive.
No, faith, my coz, wish not a man from England:
God’s peace! I would not lose so great an honour
As one man more, methinks, would share from me
For the best hope I have. O, do not wish one more!
Rather proclaim it, Westmoreland, through my host,
That he which hath no stomach to this fight,
Let him depart; his passport shall be made
And crowns for convoy put into his purse:
We would not die in that man’s company
That fears his fellowship to die with us.
This day is call’d the feast of Crispian:
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when this day is named,
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
He that shall live this day, and see old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbors,
And say ‘Tomorrow is Saint Crispian:’
Then he will strip his sleeve and show his scars,
And say ‘These wounds I had on Crispin’s day.’
Old men forget: yet all shall be forgot,
But he’ll remember with advantages
What feats he did that day: then shall our names
Familiar in his mouth as household words:
Harry the king, Bedford and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester,
Be in their flowing cups freshly remember’d,
This story shall the good man teach his son;
And Crispin Crispian shall ne’er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered;
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition:
And gentlemen in England now abed
Shall think themselves accursed they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin’s day.

—————————————————————-
Karijinbba Apr 2020
And that great love lingered
He at 22/23 -me at 18/19.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Beside me, on the left, appeared an angel in ****** form ruddy blonde
he smiled the smile I was smiling
our eyes moved scanningly about both sharing same soul.  
He was not tall neither short just like me and just perfect in manner and in form and very beautiful my twin flame soul,
a G* like heaven sent real man
a mad passionate lover was he
just like I was in his arms..

His face was so aflame that he appeared to be one of the highest rank archangels, one who seemed to be all on fire,
my ever ready honey bunny just like me by the mare sight of him;
He entered swiftly as if from a parallel reality to wriing my story down,
from a larger a beautiful world.
Mine was a small world in shambles.
My thoughts projected to his future
seeing another woman in his world
and I froze instead of fighting to earn
his love
he was really easy to win with just
the simple truth of my life the
spilling of my heart.
He was fantastic romanticaly covert.
In his hands I saw a great golden spear, and at the iron ruby tip there appeared to be a point of great fire.
This He plunged into my heart several times so that it penetrated to my entrails.
taking my breath away.

When he pulled it out I felt that he took them with it, and left me utterly consumed by the great love of such Adam's nature and the love of G.

The pain was so severe that it made me utter several moans never felt before.
The sweetness caused by this intense pain was so extreme that one cannot possibly wish it to cease, nor is one's soul content with anything but G
'
loving transforming passion expressed through such a man.
His kissing breath gave me life.
I was all his, body heart Spirit soul all.
This was not only physical but a spiritual pain, though the body had some share in it, even a considerable share
a lovely ingering exstasy.
~~~~~~~
Saint Teresa describes an intensely spiritual encounter in physical, even ****** terms like I did with my lover Why me and why St Teresa?
Both St Teresa and I deeply loved
and our ****** lingered.

We know that an important goal of Baroque art is to involve the viewer.  
Teresa explained her vision in this way to help to understand her extraordinary lyngering experience
just like my excstasy lingered
for both
I fell in love with one angel man
and with G* who sent him to me.
~~~~~~
After all, being visited by an Archangel and filled with the love of G
* is no common event but it happens
as it did to me too.

Today what else to feel?
when I experienced such beautiful heavenly love in a man's arms?
who else but G* can fill that space?
I have the love and protection of G.
because
His Archangel did kiss me!.

I believe what is given to us that's valuable and good is more than just a blessing it is because others sacrificed their all unselfishly for our benefit.

Some people threaten lie cheat and steal to keep selfishly what they want from others for themselves enough is never enough for them, they want it all.
(this isn't me.)
is that love? Is that a blessing?

Some of us let go of loaded good ships trains castles even
because they aren't within our reach
to enjoy simply as that.

Even though, our loved ones have moved on they still have a space in us that rightfully lingers on forever.

I accepted all that heaven sent,
good along with tough through my free will or unwilling terrible decisions affecting me and everyone else.
~~~~~~~
By: Karijinbba/ Copy rights.
Inspired by St Teresa Sànchez
who had my last name she loved G

like I loved my twin soul and G
*.
04-11-2020
(Angelina San-Gutier)
04/16/5. Michoacan a native perupecha tribe
(A Mestiza mix- French-&Irish.)
JacquelineCalla May 2019
Nun kenne ich dich,
die andere Seite von dir.
Doch ich steh noch dort drüben,
Weit weg, weit weg von dir,
Und mir.

Du drehst dich fort,
Um, ohne zurück zu sehen.
denn du wirst nichts, gar nichts vermissen,
Verfehlen, ich fehle dir nicht,
Weiter gehen. Nach vorne,
immerzu, weiter gehen.

Nur du und Ich,
Daraus wird wohl nie was,
das muss ich jetzt glauben, denken
denken, denken nur nicht fühlen
Nur was?

Was soll ich fühlen?

Leere, Stille oder nur dich

So wie es jetzt ist, ist es dasselbe,
Das Gleiche, oder auch nicht.

Wer weiss das schon.
Jeder, jeder, nur nicht ich.

So wie es scheint.
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