9 samples from 9 chapters of my 2 books

9 SAMPLES FROM 9 CHAPTERS OF:

DRINK FROM MY CALABASH.

Name of Book: Drink from My Calabash

CHAPTER 1.

WOMEN

A WORLD WITHOUT WOMEN1

 
What this world would be
Without our women
Don’t be stupid, dummy
There would be no men
For behind any ordinary man
There is a very good woman
 
There would be no world
No country
No flags to be unfurled
So empty
For women bring love into play for all
This sometimes adds to man’s downfall
 

What would the world be without fashion
It would be a real mess
Living in a bomb-shelter without ration
Seeing a man in a dress
It would be like a hive without bees
Living in a desert without any oases
 
Imagine a world without any bikini
No G-string
It would be so barren, no beauty
A sad thing
There would be no healthy beach
And nothing for all men to reach
 
No matter how man prays to the above
He’d be left with a world so barren
He would never be able to fall in love
In a world so dull and foreign
It wouldn’t be a world but a big joke
Like drinking good rum without coke
 
Men would be left facing the wall
For men without women
There wouldn’t be any Taj Mahal
A cock without a hen
It would be a sad, wretched world indeed
And men would have no use for their seed
 
And those commercials about hygiene and Secret
For which men have no need
They say their pH-balance don’t make them fret
For which men take no heed
But whether they use Massengill or wear panty-hose
A rose by any other name is still a bloody rose
 
Men would surely go robust and bust
The macho stereotype so sterile, so vain
What would men do with all that lust
Like going the other way in a one way lane
That’s one sensation of which they would be deprived
Which can’t be replaced no matter how they contrived
 
Without women there’d be no heartbeat
Men’s hearts would not last very long
That would be the cause of men’s defeat
There would be no love in their song
Their world would be in monotone
With poor men’s hormone all alone

CHAPTER 2.

INDIA

The Indian Baboob

The Indian Baboo

From eastern

Uttar Pradesh

Such alluring

Southern India

OrBihar

This pioneer

Hurt with an

Anguished soul,

Left everything

InIndia

Cross the Cala Pani

Took all

His belongings

Fulfilling aspirations

A few clothes

Seeds and his

Hindu tradition

And deep culture

He amidst

Fellow pioneers

With unsatiated hunger

Speaking in

Dravidian tongues

Tamil, Telugu

And Malayalam

Facing callousness

From this potpourri

Of languages

Evolved the

The Guyanese

Aghast

Of varied Faiths,

Fitting into the society

Thrown into a

Sheer white society

Like the summer rain

Yes the Baboo

Once strong

Was lost

A wringing soul

In a sea

Of intrigue

Feeling each cool drop

Of torturous

Consternation

On the sugar plantation

Because

He didn’t

Know enough English

The language

Of Power

Of wealth and

The white nation

On the plantation

The parched land

Much more thirsty

The manager

The ruler

With harsh rules

To do the job

Demon like

No English

Meant you’re

At a disadvantage

Uncountable

Suckling hungrily

Encompassing all diversities

With English rage

When you can’t

Explain yourself

In disputes

They tell you

Behave yourself

Bosom sliced

If the Manager

Was not pleased

You can get expelled

From the plantation

Oh how he missed

A cheerful voice,

So loving, so caring

So kind
This Engrazie

Can be so ruthless

Levy fines on you

Unhealable wounds

Inflicted deep

For that one drop of coolness and love,

On you coolie ass

And teeming off springs

Because you

Don’t know English

When all else failed

They dubbed

You a criminal

Other Baboos

Tremble with fear

Eyes penetrating

Cannot speak on your behalf

For he knows

A lone answer

No solace

Ah questions,

Very little English too

Or he forgot

To pick up his pass

From the Manager

Unending chores

Now oozing wounds

Even the Sardars

With drooping eyelids

Partitioned them

Speaking in Tamil

Or Hindu

Or English

Were used to

Appease some

Of the good English

Like the

Royal Commission

Which sanctioned

Hindi Schools

Compulsory education

The Earth’s body, mind, heart and soul

Unsolved

For the Indian Children

Just purity of thoughts and love

But the unthinkers

Of dark shades

Stifled Hindu

Soothing his sun baked lips

Of a heartless sun,

Unloved, uncared for

Forced the Baboos

Never a thought went astray or sore

To learn English

To imitate

The black and

Yellow brothers

To become

A Noble Indian

Spreading light and love,

Touched deep inside the untouched

Yet frivolous

Deep inside it’s burning

Wrenching apart

Realms of heart and mind

Riddled wounded

                       Thawing the frozenness of years

Chapter 3

GUYANA

KAIETEUR FALLS

KAIETEUR FALLSÄ

Oh Kaieteur! with thy gruesome splendour

Your pure placid waters you pour

Would you forever continue like this

In true eternal rainbowed bliss?

Oh Kaieteur! tucked away so far

With a height more than spectacular

So many lovers of Nature you lure

For more than an eyeful feast for sure

For if Wonders of the World they seek

Then your greatness is simply unique

Many sad, troubled hearts trod your brow

With ebbed hearts you they gladly allow

To change their problems to smaller parts

Becoming oblivious of their trustful hearts

Knowing how lesser and insignificant we are

When compared with you the Mighty Kaieteur

For you standing alone, Oh Kaieteur!

Would be the handiest work of Nature

Kaieteur Falls is a waterfall on the Potaro River in central Guyana. It is located in the Kaieteur National Park, a region that is also claimed by Venezuela. It is 226 meters (741 feet) when measured from its plunge over a sandstone cliff to the first break. It then flows over a series of steep cascades that, when included in the measurements, bring the total height to 251 meters (822 feet).Kaieteur Falls is about five times higher than the more well known Niagara Falls, located on the border between Canada and the United States and about two times the height of the Victoria Falls located on the border of Zambia and Zimbabwe in Africa. It is a single drop waterfall which is the 122nd tallest (single and multi-drop waterfall) in the world according to the World Waterfalls Database. The same web site lists it as 19th largest waterfall in terms of volume [1], and in their estimation, Kaieteur is the 26th most scenic waterfall in the world [2].Its distinction lies in the unique combination of great height and large volume, averaging 663 cubic meters per second (23,400 cubic feet per second). Thus it is one of the most powerful waterfalls in the world, rivaling even the Jog Falls of India‘s Karnataka state during the monsoon season.Up river from the falls, the Potaro Plateau stretches out to the distant escarpment of the Pakaraima Mountains. The Potaro river empties in to the Essequibo River which is one the longest and widest rivers (22 miles ) in South America.

Chapter 4

VIOLENCE

the American Empire

Before we reached this financial quagmire

Long after the Indian or Mogul empire

Headed by Genghis Khan

A fighting strongman

Khorhee Nero or Julius Caesar

Of theRoman Empire’s Czar

The Nazi’s Third Reich

They were and all alike

Stalin’s or Lenin’s communism

Of the Russian Empire’s ism

The Napoleonic French mates

Or Elizabethan knighted pirates

The British Drake, Morgan or Walter Raleigh

The architects of the present day corporatocracy1

Whom loved the queen and nearly did marry

Posing as hypocritical squires

Encouraged by all in the shires

The Empire still dangerous than that of those bastards

And it’s alive and sitting right in your own backyards

It’s called the American Empire

Using jackals and hitmen for hire

They also tried to build by fighting

With the usual plundering and warring

WithinKoreaandVietnam

Which humbled Uncle Sam

And the stubborn Middle East

Now a fighting daring beast

Belittled and so shamed all the time

But they keep fighting in mud and slime

For war is big business no bother

And the enemy’s fate didn’t matter

Today men make trillions

And they steal more millions

When such an abject poverty are all around us

The people lost hope how can they have any trus’

From every $100 worth of oil fromSouth America

$3.00 goes to the people as in desperatePanama

Who don’t have edible food or potable water

As myopic leaders got taken and then falter

How can men and women watch their kid

Knowing darn fully well what they did

Deliberately stifling third world growths

Siphoning away dollars meant for those

Who are starving in their wanton throes

Banking it away in foreign at offshore

And thus avoiding paying taxes for sure

All for the sake of oil

Recoiling ready to foil

Anyone who protested against them ought

To be prepared to feel their diabolical wrath

Like how Jamie Roldos ofEcuadorvanished

Like How Omar Torrijos ofPanamaperished

And about the natives what about them?

They say starving is not their problem

Under the guise of philanthropic loaners

Leaving millions in TWC1 as groaners

Sheltered under the IMF, USAID2 BICI3, cloak

And making democracy a sorry bloody joke

Be it a Prime Minister or a President

They will try until they make a dent

Through, blackmail, coerce or bribe

Finding the weakest link in the tribe

Because of oil, they’ll reach their downfall

For their corruption has gone far too global

Be it loans, contracts, tiimber, gold, silver or tin

The wretched third world countries can never win.

CHAPTER 5.

TRIBUTES

          MARTIN LUTHER KING Jr.

               They called him another Mahatma

For his philosophy was the same

Non-violence coupled with patience

Was what the good doctor preached

Luther was of great determination

To bring equality to the down-trodden

But an assassin’s bullet found a mark

In the divine heart of this disciple

Men of any breed can vow for him

And the sincere lessons he taught

Which was stopped by a little bullet

Engendering much hate and love

Once more the satin mahogany hearse moves on

Corteged by dazzling bouquets and dirges

Shadowing a wry smile as if to say

I prefer them when kicking than alive

Crocodile tears shed now for him

Are only until the grave is fresh

Come years weather and words will erode his work

And maybe he’ll be just a passing memory

The greatest of greats was the Mahatma Gandhi

But now his memory is only for respect

Millions mourned him at home and abroad

Although his philosophy is smothered by warfare

Millions also grieved at the loss of King

Yet they lend not a helping hand

But a bullet can’t snug out a dream

A life yes, but a people….never

And as surely as water flows in a stream

The fire of Luther lives on forever.

 

MLK smiles in his tomb

As he lie there watching

At all of us celebrating

I’m sure he would quietly give a smile

Looking at this progress of this chile

For he toldAmericahe had a dream

He saw Barak Obama’s decent gleam

Many called him naïve not practical

They even condemned him as a radical

But he really believed in America

Just like how we believe in Obama

Who say yes we can

For all American

A man of such charm and eloquence

A Harvard graduate of sheer cadence

It was as if David became Goliath

To restore the economic aftermath

It was as if he was the chosen one
And all the racial strife has gone

PS.This was written today Jan 20, 2009and added to this poem for MLK started this fire of the DREAM

CHAPTER 6.

LIFE

TO SLEEP HUNGRY AND COLD

         

Some hug their parent

Others in holes in want

Too chilled to the bone

Or dying, dead or can’t

Abandoned or left alone

How sad to fall in this plight

Homeless and was never taught

As a child-parent without an end

Only and lonely to be caught

Abandoned and nowhere to fend

And meanwhile the world

Debating meet and discus

Warmongers in the UN flailing

To help the aids enigma thus

Tsunami victims still hurting

Millions go to sleep

On earthen floors

Amidst bugs and rat infestation

With no cures

To the bondage and corruption

What is Santa going to bring me?

As western children today ask

Of parents who dumped surplus

Kissing babies in another mask

Behaving normal without a fuss

And the world goes on

Late debating until tomorrow

Children go to bed so hungry and cold

With parents drowned in sorrow

Hoping someone will break this mold

And before you go

To your warm bed tonight

Thousands would surely die[1]

Of starvation before day-light

As many will ask why! Why?

 

CHAPTER 7.

SMILE

 

LET THE KIDS GROW UP TO BE CHILDREN

The world keeps on and on grinding

The wheels of the machines turning

While the rich gets richer

And the poor gets poorer

And in the west all buyers crowd

Malls and shopping centres aloud

Bartering and spending in fury

Until the bills come in January

In the east parents committing many sins

Selling their own god given young virgins

So pure and innocent to the highest bidder

InIndia,Malaysia,CambodiaandBurma

Innocent girls 12 and under owned by badgers

Kidnapped and drugged by these vile vultures

Shipped from city to city in trains, boats and ships

Satisfying the sick desires and myopic judgeships

Only men fit to live in Hades

Knowing the evil of such trades

Deflowering kids for a few trinkets

In these inhuman sex flesh markets

Perverted Caucasians crossing all boundaries

InIndiathey just pay about 60,000 rupees

In suit and tie in the hot sun all buying sin

With a nine year poor young lass a virgin

Back from his business and toys in his grip

He tells his family and kids of his tired trip

Maybe carrying some STDs or aids

Bragging to pals about his escapades

But mostly the depravity of child prostitution

Comes fromIndiaso ripe with full corruption

Innocent girls given to the gods as Devidases

Corrupting the lives of these Nepalese lasses

These Devidases live in the temple with sages

They’re from the tender 10 to 14 year ranges

Done by Marathai priests who fears no crackdown

She’s now Servant of god but wife of the whole town[2]

It is believed in Andhra Pradesh evil can be avoided

In the Jogin system if a young girl is so dedicated

Here she gets actually married to the god Potharaju

At the tender age of five and nine nothing is new

Then when she reaches the age of puberty so fine

This young child becomes the exclusive concubine

Or better known as a religious prostitute

For the feudal gentry men of ill-repute

How can men sleep at nights peacefully

Earning their ill gotten gains stealthily

From organized prostitution grime

In this billion dollar sex trade crime

They care not for the kid if he’s dry or wet

Tied by his ankle working on their carpet

Or the other kids doing child labours

And being treated worse than beggars

And when all the fun is done who loses

They’re just keeping up with the joneses

In the harsh world out there

No one in the west even care

 

CHAPTER 8.

WHAT GOES AROUND

 

BAIL OUT

They all cry and shout

Bail! bail out! Bail out!

Growing up as a lad

With a very strict dad

You had to know your place

Or he’ll just box your ears

When we went on our boat

You’d be an ass or a goat

If you don’t have a bail on board

Which was half of a green gourd

Now used as a calabash to bail

Without which you bound to fail

In case rain or water seeps inside

Which causes pain on your ride

So this was fundamental advice

Like some sweet dholl and rice

Even the poor farmer in the fields

Know to bail out to get good yields

Later as I became a man

And came toManhattan

I remember that lesson everyday

And learnt to save for a rainy day

To bail out my own life

To save my kids and wife

So if I get into a predicament

I don’t wait for the government

To save me or bail me out

I don’t get mad and pout

It was my family and me

For God was always busy

Despite all I was surviving

For I did eked out a living

I worked for every red cent

And on welfare I never went

I bore my chafe never took a food stamp

Or go asking to any hand-me-out camp

I don’t wear an Armani suit like those culprits

The three big CEO’s what a bunch of misfits

Who in their private jets a begging they went

The people shouldn’t give them one darn cent

Their feet on the ground were never there

And I’m sure their noses were in the air

For they spend without any cares

They took what was never theirs

They feasted on fine wines and caviar

As the consumers toil in labour and fear

I say God is not a Bajan

And every woman or man

Who cause and created that crisis

My man! as sure as the sun rises

The architects of that financial problem

Will inherit cancerous deaths all of them

CHAPTER 9.
ENVIRONMENTAL

GROANING of the RAIN FORESTS

What was once a shining lure

Now lay dead and dying

What was once vibrant and pure

Now in agony groaning

The life of the land

This gives us oxygen

Is much in demand

By powerful greedy men

Man has proved he’s unfit

A fact proven by every bloody nation

One wonders if it’s worth it

And didColumbusbring civilization?

And as the trees groan

The poor gets poorer

With every log thrown

The rich gets richer

FromSouth East Asia

To the lusciousGuiana Highlands

In once greenSouth America

Now stands blowing dust and sands

The eco-system is destroyed

The food chain is broken

And loggers are deployed

As humanity is forsaken

From a variety of woods to choose

We have custom made furniture

As some Eskimos still live in igloos

Alongside beast and nature

With all the wealth extracted

From the forests a groaning

Man is still not detracted

He’s still mining and sawing

And on a still day forever

One can listen to the groaning of the trees

With every cry of Timber

As the echo carries the pain in the breeze

Thanks,

 

Naraine Datt


A WORLD WITHOUT WOMEN

Nicolette Van der Walt
nicolettevdw@absamail.co.za
Naraine, On reading the title of your poem I thought, oh my, somebody who doesn’t like woman – but my, what a surprise your poem turned out to be!!  Thanks wise man for your sharing your insight.  Your poem is a tribute to all women!

 

b TheIndian Baboo
~ Critiques/Comments ~
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Christine Sinlao
c_sinlao_1999@yahoo.com
If it weren’t for the fact that I’m in a library right now, I would love to read this one out loud.  There’s so  much here.  Internal rhyming, rythym and besides the technicalities, there’s a passion and a yearning to be heard.  You go. Good stuff.
http://PostPoems.com/members/christine_sinlao

Gail Thompson
email hidden
amazing poem
so great to read .
http://PostPoems.com/members/poetvg

Ä Kaieteur Falls

Kaieteur Falls is a waterfall on the Potaro River in central Guyana. It is located in the Kaieteur National Park, a region that is also claimed by Venezuela. It is 226 meters (741 feet) when measured from its plunge over a sandstone cliff to the first break. It then flows over a series of steep cascades that, when included in the measurements, bring the total height to 251 meters (822 feet).Kaieteur Falls is about five times higher than the more well known Niagara Falls, located on the border between Canada and the United States and about two times the height of the Victoria Falls located on the border of Zambia and Zimbabwe in Africa. It is a single drop waterfall which is the 122nd tallest (single and multi-drop waterfall) in the world according to the World Waterfalls Database. The same web site lists it as 19th largest waterfall in terms of volume [1], and in their estimation, Kaieteur is the 26th most scenic waterfall in the world [2].Its distinction lies in the unique combination of great height and large volume, averaging 663 cubic meters per second (23,400 cubic feet per second). Thus it is one of the most powerful waterfalls in the world, rivaling even the Jog Falls of India‘s Karnataka state during the monsoon season.Up river from the falls, the Potaro Plateau stretches out to the distant escarpment of the Pakaraima Mountains. The Potaro river empties in to the Essequibo River which is one the longest and widest rivers (22 miles ) in South America.

1 The corporatocracy is the core of the Empire consists of the banks, corporations and governments. Their job is to expand and strengthen the system using hitmen and jackals. John Perkins “CONFESSIONS OF AN ECONOMIC HITMAN”

1  TWD=Third World Countries

2  International Monetary Fund  and United States Agency for International Development.

3  Bbusiness International Commercial Instituton

[1] Every day, 28,000 children die.

[2] A common saying Marathi saying, Devdaasi devachi bayako, sarya gavachi” (“Servant of god, but wife of the whole town”)

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ALL GOD’S CHILDREN MAKE THE SAME MISTAKES

ALL GOD’S CHILDREN MAKE THE SAME MISTAKES

 

The good ones pray for a good kill

The bad ones pray to have their fill

With promises of what not

To do justice to the other lot

Both sides are also very greedy

They’re always willing and ready

Will even go to their places of worship

And after praying will talk eat and sip

As they plan to get rid of the enemy

Amidst out bursts of blasphemy

And then they go out into the real world

Silently praying with their flags unfurled

Doing their chores just like some simple folks

But behind your backs they share racist jokes

And do all kinds of silly dumb things

And this is how some get their flings

The bad parents turn their eyes

As if they’re gazing at the skies

When their kids do something wrong

Knowing fully well it won’t last long

For soon they bound to be a rift

Like when they steal or shop lift

I guess they willfully forgot

Bad company said the parrot

The good parents will grab their kid

And rebuke them for what they did

Some will even go all the way for sure

And return culprit and article to the store

Despite the little fact that we’re all god’s children

And would one day grow up to be men and women

We should do the right thing always

So we’d have less numbered days

For after all to do good is easy

Being bad makes you shifty

It perverts your conscions

Creates much dissension

Makes you a deceiver and a liar

Like you’re always sitting on briar

With restless sleep and nightmares

Wet with perspiration and with fears

Which is not good for your poor soul and your sad heart

And can be avoided by doing the right thing from the start

NARAINE  DATT, 

MOTHERS

MOTHERS

 

Without mothers we surely won’t be here

It’s fitting to celebrate one day of the year

For these beautiful people mothers

Who’re our aunts, wives and sisters

Our over worked nurses, and doctors

Our friends and everyday teachers

Yet in some places of this planet

Not a tiny respect they don’t get

They are abused and denied their right

And stopping this wrong is not in sight

Mothers are very precious

Their meals are delicious

For the socks or shirt you can’t find

A mother is there to soothe your mind

If you are lazy and leave your room in a mess

She’ll fret but she’ll clean it I have to confess

Some kids’ eyes are covered with wool

Then motherhood to them is ungrateful

They love you with faults anyhow

They will even face a butting cow

If someone ever threaten a mother’s young

Even if you threaten to cut out their tongue

They will defend their young so gallantly

And you will always have their loyalty

They are the bulwark of the health systems

They’re more precious than diamond or gems

No matter how warring with flags we unfurled

Our loving mothers brought us into this world