This subject is too fraught for eloquent poetry
So please indulge me in a straightforward thought or three
For the first time in its modern history
Israel is on the brink of internal catastrophe
True, there's been bleeding before, sometimes severe
But to the rescue rode a Menachem Begin or a Golda Meir
Yet never before has the military been disaffected
And without it, the specter of an Israel unprotected ...
Morphing into invasions by Syria, Jordan, Hezbollah and Iran
Israeli captives marched to their doom in Tyre and Amman
Leaving Russia and China free to move in for the kill
Every holy site in Jerusalem ~ oceans of blood spilled
The world thrown into chaotic darkness, its center destroyed
All thanks to cowardly Bibi, who, fearing jail-time, turned paranoid
May his senses return immediately ~
Or may he vanish mysteriously
DEATH OF KING HUSSEIN
February 7, 1999 Amman, Jordan
Uncertain wings, Hawk of the Qureish fly
out of the night to meet the coming day
of certain mourning, he is set to die
as is uncertain peace that was his way.
Amman is crying, streets are washed with tears
of followers and tribesmen of his own
who've prayed for miracles down through the years
but he is all the miracle they've known.
The powder keg is primed, and set to blow
what peace he's made now hostage to the past,
and still the Jordan makes it's dreary flow
through all his world and time that can not last.
divided tribes are joining, aiming for
a swift, decisive act of holy war.
© Ron Wilson aka Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet
Rays of sugarplums dance in the sun.
Children’s laughter was heard and enjoyed.
We should teach them to relish life while they are young.
Lights are dancing in the twilight.
A bright smile beams from across the room.
Teenagers’ embraced as they cabaret the dance floor.
Scurry a cat under the disco ball.
The elder sashayed to discourage this fiasco.
Contentment and joy was hearkened.
Joseph, Moses, and John
Mary, Maria, and Joyce
Three boys and three girls
Socialization took face.
You could overhear family telling about their generations.
The connections they made were quite amazing.
____________________________________|
PENNED ON JULY 26, 2014!
Hey, hey, I want to dance the *KARAGAM dance
*Hey, Sham, Manu, bring pitchers from archives
Fill the pitchers with water and uncooked rice
As rice symbolizes food that sustain our lives.
With twirls bodies move free with intricate steps
*Dhotis, jackets furl and the turbaned heads unfurl
Hands holding peacock feathers of rainbow colors
While small bells in their anklets and belts swirl.
The vocalists sing and the drum bits pick motion
And with that the vocalists start singing songs divine.
As the rhythm picks up, so does audience’s emotion
To invoke the Gangai Amman, the Goddess of rain.
================================
* A form of Indian Folk dance
** Indian names
*** Indian dress
March 15, 2014
Dr. Ram Mehta
Form: Free Verse
First Place Win
Contest: Impress Me with Small Poems V By Giorgio V.
Motif: Religious - A religious ceremony performed to invoke Goddess of Rain
A Travel to Palestine
In a landscape of chlorophyll sprinkled with yellow and red flowers,
neglected olive trees and bushes, my motorbike broke down,
my mobile was useless no signal here and I had a long walk home.
If I only had a donkey I could continued to the hazy blue mountain
that has has always eluded me, moving away from me when sought.
The beast and I could have reached the mountain, over and past it and
ended up in Palestine, old people are respected there; mind some
old men do not deserve accolade, like Henry Kissinger, a man of many
sins, but I would flame the downtrodden with the fire of freedom,
and not let them sink into the peace of slaves who have lost how to
dream. I would then give my donkey to another old man and travel to
Amman in Jordan and take a plane home, sit in my room and be glad
that my life had not been futile, and listened with ease as shadows of
assassins surround my home.
A Travel to Palestine
In a landscape of chlorophyll sprinkled with yellow and red flowers,
neglected olive trees and bushes, my motorbike broke down,
my mobile was useless no signal here and I had a long walk home.
If I only had a donkey I could continued to the hazy blue mountain
that has has always eluded me, moving away from me when sought.
The beast and I could have reached the mountain, over and past it and
ended up in Palestine, old people are respected there; mind some
old men do not deserve accolade, like Henry Kissinger, a man of many
sins, but I would flame the downtrodden with the fire of freedom,
and not let them sink into the peace of slaves who have lost how to
dream. I would then give my donkey to another old man and travel to
Amman in Jordan and take a plane home, sit in my room and be glad
that my life had not been futile, and listened with ease as shadows of
assassins surround my home.
DEATH OF KING HUSSEIN February 7, 1999
Uncertain wings, Hawk of the Qureish fly
out of the night to meet the coming day
of certain mourning, he is set to die
as is uncertain peace that was his way.
Amman is crying, streets are washed with tears
of followers and tribesmen of his own
who've prayed for miracles down through the years
but he is all the miracle they've known.
The powder keg is primed, and set to blow
what peace he's made now hostage to the past,
and still the Jordan makes it's dreary flow
through all his world and time that can not last.
divided tribes are joining, aiming for
a swift, decisive act of holy war.