Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mother Teresa - love immortal
In frail human frame;
Angel of peace and compassion,
Knew no bounds of caste or creed:
With arms outstretched,
Waded through slums forsaken
To help the poor in their humble homes:
Orphans discarded, dying destitutes,          
Deserted cripples and lepers deformed,
Found in her a ministering angel
Whose gentle touch revived hope;
Brought solace and joy.  
Unmindful of praise or blame,
To serve the poor was her only aim,
And never did she crave for wealth or fame.
Like St.Francis of Assisi, she prayed -
" Lord, make me an instrument of Thy peace,
" Where there is hatred, let me sow love,
" Where there is injury, pardon,
" Where there is doubt, faith,
" Where there is despair, hope......."
Life inspiring, a splendid saga
Of selfless service and sacrifice.
For ever she lives in the loving hearts
Of those who strive to rid the world
Of sorrow, misery and distress.
           **     M.G.Narasimha Murthy
Hyderabad, India.    mgnmurthy4@gmail
Helios Rietberg Dec 2011
Streets lined with confetti
Cheering crowds waving flags
Delighted squeals of the young child
Even destitutes on holiday
And the sun burning its merry way on the sidewalks

Ascent of the podium
Big bow to everybody
More cheers
Slogans read: long live the hero
Happy days to come
and, no one shall stand in our way

The people hush
they quiet as the microphone moves closer
a smile:

I am no hero

––a pause––a cheer––

I am no hero

––another pause––no cheers––

There is no glory in killing
no honour in ending a life
that could have gone on to be so much more
a person who
had their own hopes
dreams––––––––––

––all is quiet over the square
and the sun continues to shine––

––––and people who loved them

There is no joy
in dealing pain
––and pain that never heals

––––silence––––




––a child cries––


a pain that is my pain
a pain that never goes away
a pain of hearing the last words of someone
who could have easily been your friend
your neighbour
your teammate
your best man
your brother––––

They always say: tell them... I love them
and who shall carry out this task?
the one who slew them?

––––––––––––––––––––

so I keep it with me
forever, and perhaps in time
someone will pass it on

––––mostly they stay ungiven
until this generation passes
and that unhealing pain follows us away
and then we go on over and over again

So I don't think that we should say
that we are heroes today
we are no heroes
we are only survivors
victims of a dying breed
and ebbing slowly.

––––a silence––––

The sun continues to shine.
© Helios Rietberg, December 2011
Yenson Feb 2019
Woman child, man child, Kidadults
I hear your voices, I feel your pain,
I was pushed on the tracks you walk
I see the sorrows of the known and unknown days
the hopelessness of feeling insignificant
the destitutes of needs unmet, wants unattainable
the searing pain of the unsupported, the pitiful cries unheard
the anger of mediocrity, the stupefying lull of mundanity
that shaming feeling of feeling disrespected and unworthy

I can appreciate your rages and outrages
the compulsion to lash out, to hate, to get back at them
the frustrations that begets violence, the creeping disillusionments
the insecurities, the fears, the paralyses, the absence of stability
that pervasive feeling of inadequacies of minds unfulfilled
the crazed tensions that always sits at the door and gnawed often
the need for escapisms, to drink and live recklessly atimes
the pain that bornes rejections of cooperation with those others
the sheer horrors that make you think the world is against you

But I've been one of you even before I was made one of you
I come from the capital of Suffering, paid fees at Adversity alley
I too know what it's like to go hungry, to do without
Know what it's like to yell in frustration and bemoan my lot
while the wealthy kids swarmed around with foreign goodies
I know the humiliation being barred from class and school lessons
because my school fees were late in coming and being laughed at
but I had parents who gave tough love and bred worthy sons
and values to work hard, stand tall and respect your name

Don't look at others, be positive, be the best you can be
be helpful, be polite, be kind and fear your God but nothing else
you are a man, go like a man and never ever take what's not yours
Be grateful for what you have anf thankful for the privilege
Yes, I had breaks, but I stand knowing I earned from my sweat
and nothing was expected or given or taken for nothing
so Yes, I know suffering and hardship ain't going to break me now
No woman, I was bred to care for, love and provide, *****, they are not for ****** release, or comforter to abate my pain or strifes
Loneliness is nothing, I have slept in dark forest and quiet beaches
I have faced darkness and fears that would traumatize older men

Destroying me achieves nothing other than glorify inhumanity
there will always be talented people who seem to have more
these days the're few elitists only does who took opportunities
If you want to change the palaces, do a Megan Mackle
Be good enough to marry inside and change lives from within
Hating privileged serves no purpose other than reinforce them
You can bring the walls down from the inside better than outside
Hate destroys the haters, why court cancer when love cures all

Woman child, man child, Kidadults
I hear your voices, I feel your pain,
I have walked the tracks you walk
I know well the sorrows of the known and unknown days
I can talk the talk and walk the walk
I have done it more than any of you born in the West.....
Paul Donnell Sep 2014
Funny,
How tragedy skews your perception of time.
You think I would remember the month,
Or at least the year,
I pulled her out of that den for ***** desperate destitutes,
Trying to escape with help of Crystals and Mana.
It was cold.
Is all I remember really.
Perhaps that's a way of my mind tricking me into thinking,

It never happened.

Her crazed howls from the gurney still echo in my head.
They tell me other wise.
My last memory of my mother seems to be lost to time. was I 15 or 20?
Ramana Tandra Feb 2019
When
Un clothed destitutes
Stay inches away from me
.
Pushing my humanity aside
I Wrapped my soul with shyness
That's why
I say I am alienated to my self
....................................
Falling in false love
That raining drowsily in pubs
Enjoying the carnival
I ignored the hemegony
That MNCs pour
On the milk of my mother's breast
.
That's why I say
I am alienated to my self
If not what else other?
Michael Marchese Feb 2019
Defeated in depression
In your lonely little life
Trapped within a world of others
Since the one you knew is rife
With inequality, injustice
Inconvenient truth denies
And weaponized disinformation states
Of lies and data spies
Now analyze the Analytica
Chlamydia contagion
Viral marketing campaigning
Stagnant wage a war
Sensation
Burning Californication
To diffuse the situation
At the border firewall
Just spark another conflagration
Global changes uninstalled
But still enthralled are the spectators
Haters waiting on a savior
To deliver Hunger Games
And ever in their favor wager
That a litany of killing spree
Appeases free for all to see
And that the guilty party be
News feeding, eating your I.D.
Until the next, same old reboot
Loots pockets like colluding suits
And muted destitutes
Excuse the Pruitt's crude pollutants
When it's Houston under water
Flint still sippin' on the squalor
Slaughter stains our hands in Yemen
Where the kids are cannon-fodder
But your daughters and your sons
Are safe
Your belly's full
You're not displaced
So waste each waking second
On your daily fake intake
You're only making the stakeholders'
Promise
Easier to break
Ryan O'Leary Nov 24
.                       Nil aon Tintean
                                Mar do
                         Thinteain fein!

                        Indeed, because
                      home is where the
                 Hearth Harp & Heart is.

                  Everybody wishes to be
                 there, even wild Salmon.
              It was the yearning of Yeats.

             Home O’Sapiens is what we’re
          known as in the animal Kingdom
        of Walt Disney’s incredible journey.

       Let he who has not wished to be back
      in Ireland cast the first aspersion about
       homeless refugees and rough sleepers.

    Empathy is an emotional philanthrope and
the only cost to the altruists is compassion, even
  when beneficiaries are not consciously aware.



Ps.

The first 3 lines are Irish Gaelic meaning

There's no fireside
         like your
      own fireside.

The reference to Yeats
in 3rd verse is pertaining
to his death in France,
But he was exhumed and
brought back to Ireland
and buried in County Sligo.
Google.
Eshwara Prasad Jan 2021
People who wake up in the morning without purpose are  equal to destitutes

— The End —