Respect Poems
The British
by Benjamin Zephaniah
Take some Picts, Celts and Silures
And let them settle,
Then overrun them with Roman conquerors.
Remove the Romans after approximately 400 years
Add lots of Norman French to some
Angles, Saxons, Jutes and Vikings, then stir vigorously.
Mix some hot Chileans, cool Jamaicans, Dominicans,
Trinidadians and Bajans with some Ethiopians, Chinese,
......
Dis Poetry
by Benjamin Zephaniah
Dis poetry is like a riddim dat drops
De tongue fires a riddim dat shoots like shots
Dis poetry is designed fe rantin
Dance hall style, big mouth chanting,
Dis poetry nar put yu to sleep
Preaching follow me
Like yu is blind sheep,
Dis poetry is not Party Political
Not designed fe dose who are critical.
Dis poetry is wid me when I gu to me bed
......
Discrimination
by Adelaide Rhead
Why do you think you're better
If your culture is not the same?
Yes, maybe you seem different
But deep inside all are the same.
Why do they think they're better?
If one is black and one is white,
If one is man and one is woman.
They are the same, that is their right.
......
Home
by Mary Daly
Home is such a little word,
Which covers such a lot,
From the old man in his easy chair,
To the baby in his cot.
It doesn't have to be a place,
Of antiques, gold or splendor,
Just a simple little cottage,
Full of joy, and truth, and candour.
Where from understanding parents,
You learn, the right from wrong.
......
The Poem Of Zuhair
by İbn Abî Sûlmâ Zuhayr
'Does the blackened ruin, situated in the stony ground between Durraj and Mutathallam, which did not speak to me, when addressed, belong to the abode of Ummi Awfa?
'And is it her dwelling at the two stony meadows, seeming as though they were the renewed tattoo marks in the sinews of the wrist?
'The wild cows and the white deer are wandering about there, one herd behind the other, while their young are springing up from every lying-down place.
'I stood again near it, (the encampment of the tribe of Awfa,) after an absence of twenty years, and with some efforts, I know her abode again after thinking awhile.
'I recognized the three stones blackened by fire at the place where the kettle used to be placed at night, and the trench round the encampment, which had not burst, like the source of a pool.
......
The hunter who became the prey
by Saleh Ben Saleh
There was a hunter,
who lived for game.
His mind was strong,
but thoughts were lame.
He met a deer,
who changed his life.
She stabbed his heart,
with a hunting knife.
The mighty hunter,
......
My poem to our defenders of Ukraine (in Ukrainian)
by Slava P, aka Maximus Decimus Meridius
Небо чисте, сонце ясне
День здаеться бути прекрасним
Да щось коробить душу,
Мабудь це війна, що залишае сушу.
Йде Москаль на Неньку
Бодай-тобі здих!
Та наші солдатики
Відстоять свій поріг!
......
Other people’s hands (or, love from the being mode)
by Alex Rose
I’ve done what I can
It’s out of my hands
It sucks that other people have hands
I mean, that’s why we love them
For their hands
We don’t want them to be puppets
At the mercy of ours
And in our deepest moments
......
The Once Mighty Rendered Low
by James Kipp
Oh what spectacle of visage rendered bare before the world to suffer silent ignominious glare
On bended knee in humbled show, head and heart abashed, by how the mighty have been rendered low
Venerated glories of faded past, evanesced long ago. Now, chattel'd bondage to indignations rending soul and bone. The once reverent, now lie ‘neath heel and stone
The once mighty have been rendered low.
Made so by inglourious traitorous deeds, self inflicted upon thine sacred creed. Solely fervent in the certitude. We reap that, in which we sow.
O' how the mighty have been rendered low.
......
The Mighty Have Been Rendered Low
by James Kipp
Oh what spectacle of visage rendered bare before the world to suffer silent ignominious glare.
On bended knee in humbled show, head and heart abashed, by how the mighty have been rendered low
Evanesced venerated glories past, faded long ago. In chattel'd bondage to indignations, rending soul and bone. The once reverent, now lie ‘neath heel and stone.
The once mighty have been rendered low. Made so by inglourious traitorous deeds, self inflicted upon thine sacred creed. Fervent in the certitude, we reap that in which we sow.
O' how the mighty have been rendered low.
In the gloaming remnants of times yet passed, from 'neath shadows aspersions cast. Onerous uncertainties yet persist, can redemptive solace still exist?
......
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Slava P, aka Maximus Decimus Meridius (3 poems about Respect)
October 31st, 1970 - Kyiv, Ukraine and since 1992 - New Jersey, USA -