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"countrymen" poems
Guns and bullets. Destroy dreams Of a kid who lost a father, A son to a mother, And a love to be surrender. Body laid on the ground, Lifeless, Covered with his own blood. Poured in his land. Serving Peace , For us to sleep, At ease. Their life, Dreams, And sacrifice. Is enough. Their battle, Will never be won, When we always think, For our own instead for our nation. Filipino , **** Filipino? Where is the love and peace, Mga kababayan  ko? (My countrymen) Tagapagligtas naming sundalo(soldier), You're a hero, In a heart of every Filipino. Remembering  you.
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Jan 29, 2015
Jan 29, 2015 at 8:51 PM UTC
Tagapagligtas (Filipino Fallen Soldier)
This nation once fought for its liberty, its redemption, its freedom. Now it sets all its rights aside just because those who reside in this nation simply lost the fire that once burned in their heart. The freedom that this nations heroes fought long ago is being disregard. The countrymen act like the notion of freedom is nothing. I dream about the nation this piece of land used to be. How nationalistic it once was, how love used to fill the air. Now, nothing remains but the memories of what used to be. I would honestly rather live and die in the time wherein this nation fervently fought for its freedom and its rights, wherein each and every person loved its homeland, than live today where apathy rules.
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Apr 12, 2010
Apr 12, 2010 at 1:54 AM UTC
What is once used to be
My dreams do not come attached to the ideals of my people or the sacrifices of another country. Instead I am poor and mine are clinging to life the very idea of existence. Mundane flashes-- not adventurous endeavors nor flights around the world this is what richly folks do. Simply a mingler someone whose life flourishes around the bends of florescent street lights and panhandling nearby a farmers market just after sunrise. This remnant is few as these are neighbors local countrymen who stoically face the world's deviation and deprivation from coexisting by the bonds of agriculture and personality even as a beggar it is but a joyous memento to a world that no longer thrives.
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May 30, 2016
May 30, 2016 at 3:51 AM UTC
Farmers' Market: The 'Poor'
sometimes i get suicide bombers, rapists, killers, robbers and thieves because their motives are visible through their actions. but i never once in my life bothered understanding businessmen, pastors, priests, muslims, religions, politicians, and people whose motives in life remain hidden until caught red handed, and also those people who choose not to see the world naked for what it is. maybe the UP activists are right and that i shouldn't think of them as brainwashed kids or just paid heads to do what they do but their actions, my thoughts and this poem doesn't change anything. i bet 100% of you who are reading this would either think i'm deranged or seeking for attention. i could go on and on writing this **** and explain thoroughly but the people's brain are now wired to ex b's hit single and yes, mentioning that made this a little bit funny but no. as a ******* filipino who should be typing this in tagalog, working overseas, i've seen some fellow countrymen showed some pride against their oppressors from work but they don't get anywhere but jail. i must've forgot, the movie about manalo trampled the one about heneral luna. see how helpless we are in reality? what's your photo that comes with a bible verse got to do with others? are you spreading the word of God? what does it do to you? Sometimes I get The New People's Army. But I don't get Muslims who runs businesses and the Chinese too. Sometimes I wish I could spread fake news that doesn't harm others and last but not the least, I hope someday the world would stop not and smoke Marijuana all at the same time including North Korea. I couldn't stop. I also hope that these people, those who has a lot of followers use the attention properly but no, people are so ******* dumb and Salinger is right with Holden's, "People never notice anything" and nothing's too big if people will stop creating bigger things that'll only add up to the congestion clogging up the world. and Allen Ginsberg is right, we are breaking our ******* backs just to lift ******* Moloch. **** your Mosques, your INC branches, your corporations, your religions, your borders and divisions, your trends that kills the minds of the youth. **** your laws, about making Marijuana illegal. **** your disguise and your intelligence. I almost believe world cleansing is the answerbbecause the ant colonies are so much better ruling the world. I don't know anymore, my smartphone's ****** and I am not smarter. . .
0
Feb 14, 2018
Feb 14, 2018 at 10:06 PM UTC
My fellow Filipinos, my phone's ****** and the frustration in me wrote this.
sometimes i get suicide bombers, rapists, killers, robbers and thieves because their motives are visible through their actions. but i never once in my life bothered understanding businessmen, pastors, priests, muslims, religions, politicians, and people whose motives in life remain hidden until caught red handed, and also those people who choose not to see the world naked for what it is. maybe the UP activists are right and that i shouldn't think of them as brainwashed kids or just paid heads to do what they do but their actions, my thoughts and this poem doesn't change anything. i bet 100% of you who are reading this would either think i'm deranged or seeking for attention. i could go on and on writing this **** and explain thoroughly but the people's brain are now wired to ex b's hit single and yes, mentioning that made this a little bit funny but no. as a ******* filipino who should be typing this in tagalog, working overseas, i've seen some fellow countrymen showed some pride against their oppressors from work but they don't get anywhere but jail. i must've forgot, the movie about manalo trampled the one about heneral luna. see how helpless we are in reality? what's your photo that comes with a bible verse got to do with others? are you spreading the word of God? what does it do to you? Sometimes I get The New People's Army. But I don't get Muslims who runs businesses and the Chinese too. Sometimes I wish I could spread fake news that doesn't harm others and last but not the least, I hope someday the world would stop not and smoke Marijuana all at the same time including North Korea. I couldn't stop. I also hope that these people, those who has a lot of followers use the attention properly but no, people are so ******* dumb and Salinger is right with Holden's, "People never notice anything" and nothing's too big if people will stop creating bigger things that'll only add up to the congestion clogging up the world. and Allen Ginsberg is right, we are breaking our ******* backs just to lift ******* Moloch. **** your Mosques, your INC branches, your corporations, your religions, your borders and divisions, your trends that kills the minds of the youth. **** your laws, about making Marijuana illegal. **** your disguise and your intelligence. I almost believe world cleansing is the answerbbecause the ant colonies are so much better ruling the world. I don't know anymore, my smartphone's ****** and I am not smarter. . .
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68
Mahatma Gandhi   Young visitors in a gallery, Stood before a portrait of Gandhiji, Charmed by his toothless smile, Eyes sparkling through glasses round And an old watch dangling from his waist, With his chest bare and a **** cloth Covering his lean , frail frame. While they wondered how the good old man Could shake the mighty British empire And fight without weapons of destruction, They were thrilled to behold a vision rare - The smiling  Gandhi emerged from the frame, Saying that his weapons were invisible, Yet, they could vanquish the most powerful Without hatred and shedding no blood! His loving voice and childlike smile Combined with an unbending will, Wielding the power of truth and nonviolence Could conquer his mighty ruthless foes And turn them into everloving friends!. Feeling amazed, the visitors stared At the Mahatma moving back into the frame; Begged him to remain and lead them again. "My countrymen," he said "seem to have forgotten, " The bloodshed and horror of partition. "Terrorists and fanatics **** and burn " And innocent victims feel miserable and forlorn. "Twice a year, on my 'samaadhi', flowers are strewn, " While helpless millions struggle and groan. "In these days of endless greed and senseless crime, " "Guided missiles and misguided men, " My words seem to have no relevance, "Yet, if they listen to their own conscience, " Give up greed and serve with compassion, "The India of my dreams will arrive soon." Sad and surprised, the visitors stared: Though the figure vanished, his words inspired And they resolved to follow his noble ways And strive for the welfare of all mankind.                   *********  M.G.Narasimha Murthy Hyderabad, India.        [email protected]
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Nov 25, 2015
Nov 25, 2015 at 8:16 AM UTC
MAHATMA GANDHI
Mahatma Gandhi   Young visitors in a gallery, Stood before a portrait of Gandhiji, Charmed by his toothless smile, Eyes sparkling through glasses round And an old watch dangling from his waist, With his chest bare and a **** cloth Covering his lean , frail frame. While they wondered how the good old man Could shake the mighty British empire And fight without weapons of destruction, They were thrilled to behold a vision rare - The smiling  Gandhi emerged from the frame, Saying that his weapons were invisible, Yet, they could vanquish the most powerful Without hatred and shedding no blood! His loving voice and childlike smile Combined with an unbending will, Wielding the power of truth and nonviolence Could conquer his mighty ruthless foes And turn them into everloving friends!. Feeling amazed, the visitors stared At the Mahatma moving back into the frame; Begged him to remain and lead them again. "My countrymen," he said "seem to have forgotten, " The bloodshed and horror of partition. "Terrorists and fanatics **** and burn " And innocent victims feel miserable and forlorn. "Twice a year, on my 'samaadhi', flowers are strewn, " While helpless millions struggle and groan. "In these days of endless greed and senseless crime, " "Guided missiles and misguided men, " My words seem to have no relevance, "Yet, if they listen to their own conscience, " Give up greed and serve with compassion, "The India of my dreams will arrive soon." Sad and surprised, the visitors stared: Though the figure vanished, his words inspired And they resolved to follow his noble ways And strive for the welfare of all mankind.                   *********  M.G.Narasimha Murthy Hyderabad, India.        [email protected]
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42
A patriotic fervor producing fealty A noble cause compelling loyalty Paired with a callous indignity Brash enlistee plunges toward destiny Honor's badge worn with impunity Duty's moniker embossed with magnanimity Insatiable bloodlust quelshing all insecurity Unbridled ego clamoring a garrulous enmity Toward the villains who shattered blithe serenity First skirmish, pageantry displaced by gravity Mettle varnished with aura of invincibility First battle, fallen comrades question mortality Successive battles, severed limbs, caustic wounds challenge credulity Fragile mind being conditioned to atrocity War's heavy mantle now shorn of indemnity Threatening mind's sanity, hearth's perpetuity Once faceless foes now scream their humanity Once noble leaders brim with insincerity Supportive countrymen now fickle, distant entity Cheering press now rank with duplicity Only solace, hardened comrades equanimity
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Jul 25, 2012
Jul 25, 2012 at 6:03 PM UTC
Civil War Soldier's Mantra
A tear for peace is a tear worth shedding ‘Blood for peace’ is not That’s just a selfish message sent out, a message written in red ink This is as true as the sun is hot A tear for peace is a tear for these streets To disregard violence and cease… The hate speech and incitement That ugly place That the tongues of certain guys went While we were thinking… “Shut up! Please!” I campaign for the indictment of these… Former citizens and apparent ‘leaders’ Who relinquished their right to call themselves Kenyans the moment they decided to bleed us… literally I root for he… or she that will bring sustenance and feed us With that which we need most And so I task him… or task her With the responsibility of ensuring that Kenya as a country and as a people Work tirelessly toward a better tomorrow and prosper And let these hate campaigners find themselves behind bars So they can get our message loud and clear And I will celebrate in my own way, maybe step into a nice bar… And buy myself a beer But for now I will keep praying for peace and still shed that tear And ask my fellow countrymen to join me in prayer As we wait for next year.
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Sep 26, 2012
Sep 26, 2012 at 2:39 AM UTC
A tear for peace {Poetry For Peace-Kenya}
I live in Kerala, South India Where it's usually unbearably humid and hot. But it’s been rather different lately, Cool gusts of wind have been brought, Along with some rains that have turned into floods Poisoning even fresh water with mud And so the people, just like the fish our local fishermen catch, In a net they have been caught, Leaving friends and family distraught, Coz trapped by water, a symbol of life, People have suffered death And been left to rot In the houses where water breathes in human space; Imprinting in our minds a memory we would like to erase. Everywhere I look I see prayers, with help sought, But people are just having their hopes shot. The only grace is that atleast those who have their heads above water Are having their prayers slowly answered. I thank God for the army, Who for the safety of our lives have fought Pushing through broken homes with everything they’ve got. I thank God for the navy, Who have sent men in fleets Just to save our countrymen off the flooded streets. I thank God for doing everything to keep us safe and alive, All so that we would not have to make that final dive. Quite literally. Right now, we may mourn this disaster that has led to our demise, But I promise you, our beautiful state will rise, And when I say this, I assure you, I speak no lies.
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Aug 18, 2018
Aug 18, 2018 at 8:22 AM UTC
A Cry For Help From Kerala
As I sauntered on banks of Yamuna at night. I saw a man old, bent, with stick in dhoti white. Tardily, step by step as he came nearer to me. With joy I smiled as our own beloved Bapu was he. With tears in my eyes I asked, ' Bapu you are still alive! , those three bullets holed your chest, how did you survive? What happened to you? Where were you all these days? What you ate? How you lived? Now where do you stay? Condition of your beloved land is deteriorating day by day. Countrymen have left your path, they have gone astray. Your image, your killers are trying to malign and degrade. Berating your ways, encouraging means which you forbade. Hitler's advocates on chariots are traversing Nation's length. Day by day Fascism is gaining ground , gaining strength. Disguised as followers of Sri Ram, deeds of Ravan they do. Riots and killings are frequent, women and minors are targeted too. Terrorism nourishing on terrorism, cruelty at its worst. Targeting anyone, anywhere, time and again bombs burst. Once a land of peace, land of sufism, land of saints, now ****** Innocent souls being killed without restraint. Regionalism is being encouraged and taking roots. Unity of the Nation selfish politicians reduce and dilute. Corruption is increasing everywhere and in all spheres Even highest office of respect could not keep itself clear ' Passing his hand over my head he smiled and said ' I am just a spirit, long ago my weak body was dead. Daily with expectation I rise and daily with despair I die Daily my hope is shattered and daily with grief I sigh They may have killed me but now I live in numerous hearts They may write me down in history yet my message will dart. See this flag, colour saffron is dear to me, colour green I love. between them is colour white, colour of peace, colour of dove. Nation divided in three hurts me more than bullets three From casteism and regionlism country should be free. Communalism should not be allowed to raise its ugly head. With sword of constitution Fascism we need to behead ' Three sound disturbed the calm, beloved Bapu fell on the ground I went to help but Bapu vanished with words 'Hey Ram' echoing around Determined that this time his innocent blood will not go waste. I collected his non-violent blood in my pen like ink with haste.
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Nov 2, 2014
Nov 2, 2014 at 3:08 AM UTC
A meeting with beloved Bapu(Gandhi)
As I sauntered on banks of Yamuna at night. I saw a man old, bent, with stick in dhoti white. Tardily, step by step as he came nearer to me. With joy I smiled as our own beloved Bapu was he. With tears in my eyes I asked, ' Bapu you are still alive! , those three bullets holed your chest, how did you survive? What happened to you? Where were you all these days? What you ate? How you lived? Now where do you stay? Condition of your beloved land is deteriorating day by day. Countrymen have left your path, they have gone astray. Your image, your killers are trying to malign and degrade. Berating your ways, encouraging means which you forbade. Hitler's advocates on chariots are traversing Nation's length. Day by day Fascism is gaining ground , gaining strength. Disguised as followers of Sri Ram, deeds of Ravan they do. Riots and killings are frequent, women and minors are targeted too. Terrorism nourishing on terrorism, cruelty at its worst. Targeting anyone, anywhere, time and again bombs burst. Once a land of peace, land of sufism, land of saints, now ****** Innocent souls being killed without restraint. Regionalism is being encouraged and taking roots. Unity of the Nation selfish politicians reduce and dilute. Corruption is increasing everywhere and in all spheres Even highest office of respect could not keep itself clear ' Passing his hand over my head he smiled and said ' I am just a spirit, long ago my weak body was dead. Daily with expectation I rise and daily with despair I die Daily my hope is shattered and daily with grief I sigh They may have killed me but now I live in numerous hearts They may write me down in history yet my message will dart. See this flag, colour saffron is dear to me, colour green I love. between them is colour white, colour of peace, colour of dove. Nation divided in three hurts me more than bullets three From casteism and regionlism country should be free. Communalism should not be allowed to raise its ugly head. With sword of constitution Fascism we need to behead ' Three sound disturbed the calm, beloved Bapu fell on the ground I went to help but Bapu vanished with words 'Hey Ram' echoing around Determined that this time his innocent blood will not go waste. I collected his non-violent blood in my pen like ink with haste.
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40
I pledge to Nigeria my country. From between the heavens and the earth lies. I pledge to not be a betrayer, but loyal. Even when our leaders turn slayers. I pledge to be the voice That echoes above a mere noise. I pledge to fight off vices with my pen. To inspire, educate and liberate all our countrymen. I pledge to be faithful, loyal and honest. Even thou, our leaders proved to be dishonest. To serve Nigeria with all my strengths. In times when we were left with impotence. And to nourish the great work of our forefathers. As she stopped being a douth mother. I pledge to defend her unity, Uphold her honor and glory. None will be left out- not a single entity. Moment speaks, as all now become a past story. Together we shall conquer. Together we shall strive. Together we shall set the pace right. Together we shall rise up to the light Nigeria @ 60—TOGETHER is the theme. TOGETHER WE SHALL STAND……… =====SO HELP US GOD.
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Oct 1, 2020
Oct 1, 2020 at 2:53 AM UTC
TOGETHER..... NIGERIA @60
I rose, I saw and I saw the flaw of what i left my countrymen in But I decided to rise Despite my demise thinking i was dead but not fallen But little had i know that my bloodline would be cast away and all my subjects go astray Like the ash-dust in my silver ash tray they lay contaminated as i blow the smoke is ceaseless, as it burns in the eyes of my subjects But their conscience rejects As my Royal Stature fell to my weak heart i had which i gave away 'till it went stale and wounds were deeper to stitch after years of my departure But in this rupture of my throne and of the crown It's not my palace or town, that is in debris It is my kingdom
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Sep 10, 2013
Sep 10, 2013 at 12:45 AM UTC
Mahendra of Nepal
I know that I shall meet my fate Somewhere among the clouds above; Those that I fight I do not hate, Those that I guard I do not love; My country is Kiltartan Cross, My countrymen Kiltartan's poor, No likely end could bring them loss Or leave them happier than before. Nor law, nor duty bade me fight, Nor public men, nor cheering crowds, A lonely impulse of delight Drove to this tumult in the clouds; I balanced all, brought all to mind, The years to come seemed waste of breath, A waste of breath the years behind In balance with this life, this death.
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2.3k
An Irish Airman Foresees His Death
Do you see what I see? Do you see the children in the streets? Living on the streets With no father or mother? Do you see what I see? Do you see the poverty and hunger and illness Rampant And the people, not Westerners, but the fellow countrymen And women In India and Congo and Uganda and Afghanistan That work to put an end To the injustice Do you see the what I see? The world With glimpses of its entirety Beyond the shallow bubble of existence In a land of milk and honey and comfort That hides its own injustices In a closet where nobody wants to look And everyone knows of But almost everyone ignores And in amongst that hypocrisy Do you see the people Speaking out And fighting for you to see What they see Do you see the people Reaching out to those in need In their families and their communities Out of compassion People who understand Really understand What it is to love Because they choose love In the face of apathy Ignorance Materialism and Individualism That is what I see When I look outside my window Is this what you see?
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Feb 6, 2013
Feb 6, 2013 at 1:30 PM UTC
Do you see what I see?
Elegant necklaces never hugged her soft neck Fingers were never adorned by fancy rings A crown never rested on top of her hand But, regal was she A frame which never nestled on a velvet throne Hands never touched a sacred scepter The finest fabrics never worshipped her skin But, regal was she Her feet never walked on a grand castle Never had the servants, soldiers, countrymen bowed in her presence A name never honored by anyone But, regal was she Dressed in homely clothes Immaculate beauty concealed by the dark An existence made from gold She was the queen of my heart If they only knew.
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Jul 12, 2014
Jul 12, 2014 at 9:54 AM UTC
The Uncelebrated Queen
My country does not believe in equality. It buys excuses for elitism and misogyny. It covers up its greed and its brutality And makes up ugly labels for decency. My country sings its songs about freedom But often denies it to those who need some. It celebrates our heritage with beer and *** And marches to the beat of a fascist drum. My country was founded by nice words Some of the finest man has ever heard. Then shows the intelligence of a cattle herd; And the social conscience of rotted bean curd. My country labors under some illusions That contribute to a national delusion That fame will ultimately cure all contusions And eradicate the effects of collusion. My country thinks pretty people are sacrosanct So, they let the beautiful load up their piggy bank. We see reverence for the most egregious crank, And have many of our countrymen to thank. My country isn’t very good at followup. It adopted the behavior of an untrained pup. As long as it has its favorite pablum to sup It will drink any poison that’s in their cup. My country is this way, has been for too long And if you disagree with the words of my song Write your own treatise to try to prove me wrong. For now I will keep on banging this protest gong.
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Apr 15, 2017
Apr 15, 2017 at 4:24 PM UTC
MY COUNTRY
Memories of past magnificence A pall now hangs over her Echoes of screams in the west Decomposed disillusion Inhumanity Insecurity Split personality Search warrants for the haves Kicked in doors for the have nots Mr. Officer……Mi innocent The muzzle of your gun has me reticent From slavery our ancestors did run In the streets the blood of my countrymen run When will di trouble dun She has been battered and scarred Her name feathered and tarred While the gleam in her eyes is diminished She is by no means finished Still the heartbeat of a nation Vibrant, trendsetting, schizophrenic Sometimes there is panic in this state of chronic Some more equity is required in my city The financial capital What about human capital? Some deemed worthless Existing in communities of sacrificial lambs. Others are sacred cows…..Wolves in sheepskin Who pollute the air with noxious verbiage White collar facades hide evil intent. She will rise again. If we have the will and the way My city……KINGSTON!!!!!
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Jul 11, 2010
Jul 11, 2010 at 2:34 PM UTC
Kingston
Traditionalism is what they follow, Prehistoric is how they live, Caring none about real human beings! They depend on human protection, Yet they pray the lifeless idols & establishments, Statues & religion they call them and waste money on them. They would do their own important work, Tell me to better stop writing these blasphemous poems, Praying, remembering the lord & idol-worshiping is all they care about. People like them won't donate directly to the poor, They say that they put some money in the places of worship, Idols - their idols is who they live for and survive by. My telling this to my countrymen or anybody in the world is vain, They would still go to on or more places of worships, Think that it is not idol worshiping and again not serve the needy directly. They can only criticize me for writing blasphemous words of pain, They would even fight with or **** me if they got hold of me, But they won't stop idol-worshiping and start serving the poor directly themselves. A Messiah calls the idol-worshipers, To avoid going to places of worship, To come and serve the real world, To realize that what you are losing, To help you realize the value of humanity, To make you realize the value of the real world. If you're not scared of change then join me in this new religion, Here we don't worry about God/Ishwar/Bhagwan/Rabb, But we do things that make The Power Happy, Do social service and cleaning their houses, Help the needy monetarily/practically, Instead of just donating somewhere, Shun donations to the places of worship, Go to the needy personally or parcel them happiness, Make sure that the courier service/other establishment you use is 100% genuine. Avoid those agencies who are supposedly in one of the common names of The Power, Hire a company/firm to actually make your donations reach the needy, It'll be very helpful for the humanity which is prime & real, Try this by whatever methods you find genuine, You'll feel yourself elated & calm, Take my word, Seriously.
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Apr 27, 2013
Apr 27, 2013 at 4:26 AM UTC
Why are They Always Scared of Change. [Do read the Footnote.]
Traditionalism is what they follow, Prehistoric is how they live, Caring none about real human beings! They depend on human protection, Yet they pray the lifeless idols & establishments, Statues & religion they call them and waste money on them. They would do their own important work, Tell me to better stop writing these blasphemous poems, Praying, remembering the lord & idol-worshiping is all they care about. People like them won't donate directly to the poor, They say that they put some money in the places of worship, Idols - their idols is who they live for and survive by. My telling this to my countrymen or anybody in the world is vain, They would still go to on or more places of worships, Think that it is not idol worshiping and again not serve the needy directly. They can only criticize me for writing blasphemous words of pain, They would even fight with or **** me if they got hold of me, But they won't stop idol-worshiping and start serving the poor directly themselves. A Messiah calls the idol-worshipers, To avoid going to places of worship, To come and serve the real world, To realize that what you are losing, To help you realize the value of humanity, To make you realize the value of the real world. If you're not scared of change then join me in this new religion, Here we don't worry about God/Ishwar/Bhagwan/Rabb, But we do things that make The Power Happy, Do social service and cleaning their houses, Help the needy monetarily/practically, Instead of just donating somewhere, Shun donations to the places of worship, Go to the needy personally or parcel them happiness, Make sure that the courier service/other establishment you use is 100% genuine. Avoid those agencies who are supposedly in one of the common names of The Power, Hire a company/firm to actually make your donations reach the needy, It'll be very helpful for the humanity which is prime & real, Try this by whatever methods you find genuine, You'll feel yourself elated & calm, Take my word, Seriously.
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40
"I LOVE YOU" A sweet word to the ear A flower blossoms that to someone you are dear A paint that will clear the color of your blue And turns your lonely heart, to a happy you "I CARE" a word that will bury to a heart Words that can't forget even to the last breath of a life A seed that someday will bear sweet fruit A fruit that will end up my countrymen chaos Perhaps if I didn't utter "I LOVE YOU" and "I CARE" today The saddest word that I'll meet someday Mister Regret a name that will **** my heart To then my mission be declared as failed So then to my acquaintance, to my beloved ones To you my princess, my beloved fatherland "I LOVE YOU" and "I CARE" And then again "I LOVE YOU" and "I CARE" written: Feb. 22, 2001 @ 9:30 am PH Time Mysterious Aries
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Sep 24, 2015
Sep 24, 2015 at 9:10 PM UTC
My Love, My Care
441 This is my letter to the World That never wrote to Me— The simple News that Nature told— With tender Majesty Her Message is committed To Hands I cannot see— For love of Her—Sweet—countrymen— Judge tenderly—of Me
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1.9k
This is my letter to the World
No, heart, no brains and no courage Friends, Romans, Countrymen lend me your hears Allow me to introduce the Queen of Truth Your majesty, you are the fairness of them all Such an honor to be your Lord Chancellor Thus, I beckon your call Your highness and sweet gratefulness I take great pleasure In serving you, my lady Indeed, I am at you services, Day or night, and Your wish is by command, and I wish you longevity
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Jun 24, 2013
Jun 24, 2013 at 2:54 AM UTC
The Donkey Kisser
I know that I shall meet my fate Somewhere among the clouds above; Those that I fight I do not hate, Those that I guard I do not love; My county is Kiltartan Cross, My countrymen Kiltartan's poor, No likely end could bring them loss Or leave them happier than before. Nor law, nor duty bade me fight, Nor public men, nor cheering crowds, A lonely impulse of delight Drove to this tumult in the clouds; I balanced all, brought all to mind, The years to come seemed waste of breath, A waste of breath the years behind In balance with this life, this death.
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1.9k
An Irish Airman Forsees His Death
recount the votes, they demand, as they stand on the ground where god-knows-how-many innocents have been buried; all our people that we lost, all the burdens we have refused to carry, no one has ever called out to count how many were taken and never seen again. we want justice, they cry, the irony heavy in its circumstances; wanting equity and honesty for the man whose father murdered millions; a man wretched in his father's absence; our voices have grown hoarse pleading for righteousness for our victims. when will we get our amen? a hero, they proclaim with their blue and yellow banners. how dare they say that word and wave our flag as they stand on the bones of the defenseless, on the bones of the silenced, on the bones of their grandparents, on the bones of their relatives, on the bones of our countrymen. this is not a "thing" we can get over with. not a war we can just stop fighting. we have barely found our voices, and yet they want to kick the wind out of us once more; i refuse to submit to silence. refuse to let them win. i will scream until i'm hoarse and rebel until i'm sore. because if not i, then who? if not now, then when?
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May 18, 2016
May 18, 2016 at 12:11 AM UTC
history doesn't always repeat itself, but it echoes
*A serious danger threatens the Stability of our country; Democracy dangles upon a thread & oscillates to every poll. Today we wait at the crossing Of two paths; which way will we go? Will we pursue spite and ignorance? Our way of life hinges upon The prudence of our countrymen. Will they rise to the occasion Or flounder at the voting booth? One or two impetuous votes Could change the course of history. Will we be on the right side of history? The tortuous months soon to come Will shape our fragile destiny. So many important questions Remain unanswered as of now, But I can only hope that we Will avert a catastrophe.*
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Jul 23, 2016
Jul 23, 2016 at 1:44 PM UTC
At The Crossroads Of History
Pulled as tight as the netted stars Contentment is the only thing I hear Wind roaring through my hair There must be something I've forgotten Some forgone prologue to this ebony cheer This bowel of awkward just spills from my mouth As if I could dry heave the perfect soliloquy, Cite the succinct sonnet "Friends, Romans, Countrymen" "My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun" It feels so good to feel uncomfortable again To fumble over missed turn signals It's been too long Since I've calmed my  nerves With a clove cigar,  a pen And the cool grey of the night
0
Feb 21, 2013
Feb 21, 2013 at 12:15 AM UTC
Silence the Moon
happy birthday to you happy birthday to you happy birthday... happy birthday... happy birthday, to... Today I felt like I was born as a much saddder person I feel sadness because I feel lost the country I lived in all my life decided it was somewhere else and the people I called countrymen and friends decided to go with it nothing looks like it used to nothing feels like it's supposed to and even nothing has changed to become this everything. the sound of laughter escaping lips needs subtitles and the messages from my best friend's eyes need decrypting a knowing look no longer knowing where my parents house is where the giant tree, with kites stuck and tire swings is planted where I spent my years growing my old toys lie in attic space   I do not know what happened I don't know what went wrong but I just want to hear again the tune of that familiar birthday song happy...bir....ay ha...pybur... now, how did all that go?
0
Aug 10, 2011
Aug 10, 2011 at 7:02 AM UTC
familiarly strange