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Election Time!

A series of elections from states to nation
Surely makes all diverted to election only!
People's power is exercised in democracy;
But now money power rules in democracy!

Now the fight is between people and money
The winner decides the fate of the nation!
Corruption is top most dominant force now;
To consolidate its power election has come!

Can corruption be eliminated by laws or will?
Civil society has to come forward to do that!
Will civil society take the lead to do its duty?
Or simply succumb to gimmicks of bureaucracy?

Elections come and people elect someone to power;
But bureaucracy dispenses duties by corruption...!

poem by Ramesh T A
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The Living or the Dead

Living poets with wasted words
Succumb to a famined rhyme-
For lack of better choice accord
Poetry so laced with grime.

Dead poets wrote with mastery
And excellently lines conveyed
Thoughts abundantly in beauty
Wisdom dressed in lines arrayed.

What then do we now impart?
Our pen in utter destitution?
Better from this life depart
If one writes in vile corruption.

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poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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Adonis

Tormented
By one's reflection
On the placid waters of spring
As thoughts blossom in the naïve psyche
Of beauty's empowerment
As the sins of Narcissus
Cross the mythological barrier
To smear the humility of my creation
As the humble child in me flees
To capture the apical purity of Adonis
To succumb to the myth of idyllic beauty
To submerge in reveries of sight's miscreation
To worship contours and silhouettes of divine clay
Yet the clatter of a pebble on serene waters
Metamorphoses the promise of youth
To the reverberating wrinkles of age's procreation
As Methuselah emerges to remind the eloping heart
Of the mortality of physical beauty

poem by Dilantha Gunawardana
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Sonnet: Test Not God’s Patience

Sometimes, we play with Eternal fire!
Some souls get scorched; some succumb to the burns;
Yet, some escape to play with blaze higher,
Until the day comes for their funeral urns.

Each time we sin, ’tis God who us rescues;
How grateful to the Maker, we must be!
When sin’s voltage turns high, lapses heart’s fuse;
The soul suffers now graceless malady.

The God of compassion ignores us not;
He gives His chances to repent for sins;
He does not send us to the ‘blazing-pot’;
He loves all souls that He created, since.

Man tests God’s mercy, infinite for long;
Can’t turn deaf ears to his ‘sin-drowning’ song.

9-10-2002

poem by John Celes
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In Increments

In increments it must now come.
What's being done...
Should not overwhelm.
It should not succumb,
Or overcome with its might.
Nor should it frighten.
But deliver enlightenment.
A dose of that at a time is needed.
And not too much to feed the untreated.

In increments it must now come.
Impatience might cause havoc!
And a running away of those too stunned.
Appear before a few...
Let them give previews.
Let them first astonish those in disbelief!
Let their appetites build and increase.
Let their curiosities begin to tease.
Before the descending of our ships they see!
But...

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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Into Your Waking Life

Under the chalky light
and in between frontiers,
you swam like seraphs
Your larcenous feet gliding
like wingless serendipity

You osculate with beauty
Two hands interlaced,
one heartbeat shared
I stagger at this art
frail untouchable divinity

Veiled in immaculate gradients
in a salient heraldry,
in an intimate blear,
there is an embarrassed pang
underneath it all
and it is not even jealousy

I raised my goblet

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poem by Norman Santos
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The Emptiness of Your Car

I am dying in a pontification of shadows,
And perhaps I will never have
To be famous-
But my body will succumb, as it were,
Underneath the
Celebrations of your sororities,
Just as if I was the very earth underneath
The jubilations of the heavens,
As another song dies out as:
As you just make love to him again
And again,
Through the pageantries of tour particular
Stars:
Do you not know that they’ve already
Burned out,
After you’ve driven home in your car:
And I’ve tried being beautiful,
But I’ve all together given up,
And this is just the apiary left gossiping
In the very pornography illuminating in

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poem by Bret R. Crabrooke
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Sonnet: ’Tis Tough to Do Good Things!

’Tis easy to commit habitual sin;
’Tis easy to keep doing greater vice;
’Tis easy to succumb to temptation;
’Tis tough to always heed to good advice.

’Tis easy to point fingers at brothers;
’Tis tough to lead a righteous life on earth;
’Tis tough to forgive foes and your neighbors;
’Tis tough to keep your soul pure for God’s mirth.

’Tis tough to walk in heaven’s narrow road;
’Tis tough to sacrifice and pray to God;
’Tis tough to keep the Maker’s tenets, code;
’Tis tough to live according to God’s word.

No one can break the Lord’s affinity;
God helps the righteous gain eternity.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 1-17-2007

poem by John Celes
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Never Is Such A Long Time

The encounter was so brief.
It's as if some theif
came in and stole it away
and never let it stay.
One year became a lifetime.
Two lives became like one.
There's not a day that will ever pass
and never a night to come
when the lonely ache will leave me
and let me just succumb
to a peaceful existance without you,
one where I'm not numb.

Time now moves so slowly
and my heart beats slower too.
It's like it's forgotten how to race
like it did from the sight of you.
Why do they say 'Time heals all wounds? '
My wound will last forever.
How will I feel like living again?

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poem by Edwina Reizer
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The Page Stays White

I so want to write, but try as I might,
the words don’t come, this mind’s an empty drum.

Cells remain shut tight, ideas just won’t bite.

Brain’s full of bunkum, notions are struck dumb.

It’s an terrible plight, because the more you fight,
the less you succumb.
Not a single crumb will see the light.
I’m not sure why, quite!

But I’m feeling glum, I’m hitting a problem.

Can’t my wits be bright. My thoughts should unite
in my futile cranium, and that is saying some.

I so want to write, but the page stays white.

New poems ought to blossom, in a state of equilibrium.

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poem by Ernestine Northover
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