Culture Poems
There's A Dark Cloud Over My Head
by Leon Thomas Lee
There is a dark cloud over my head
With every move i make, every step i take
It keeps following me
Lord you know i want to free
Dark clouds, dark clouds, dark clouds
Now as the rain begins to fall, i feel so small
I'm always getting wet with the rain of prejudice
Look there is a mist of discrimation
And the fog of injustice
Dark clouds, dark clouds, dark clouds hanging over my head
......
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.
......
Blood, Sweat And Tears
by Susan Mary Robertson
Think just think, of all the blood, sweat and tears
London has shed with the passing of years.
The dirt, dust and smog, the noise and the grime.
Poverty, slavery, squalor and crime.
Ambitions and hopes, mad schemings and fears,
Disease, depravity, vice, wines and beers,
Arts and culture can pass the test of time,
City of contrast from base to sublime.
......
Lost Art
by Nkwachukwu Ogbuagu
Behind the moon, where hunters hunt
In secret, the whiff of boiling lipsticks
Chastises the lungs of scorpions.
Murals hang on battered doors of
Decrepit banners, hoisted by dust-swept
Elements of colours –etched and painted.
Drums are sober, frightening withered
Hands that beat them to lean delirium.
Rotten eggs hatch on their own,
Their shells, white-toothed fragments of
......
A Letter To My Aunt
by Dylan Thomas
A Letter To My Aunt Discussing The Correct Approach To Modern Poetry
To you, my aunt, who would explore
The literary Chankley Bore,
The paths are hard, for you are not
A literary Hottentot
But just a kind and cultured dame
Who knows not Eliot (to her shame).
Fie on you, aunt, that you should see
No genius in David G.,
No elemental form and sound
......
I Confess to a Certain Winter Night
by Nkwachukwu Ogbuagu
The ceremony does not begin until
We hear the silent splattering of the
Snowflakes upon the shuttered mildewed
Windows lined under the haggard trees—
And by then,
The Mary Tyler Moore Show must have
Ended as fast as it had begun —
Behind the faces of muted clocks that
Tick and drop frozen nuts on the carapaces of
Slow-protesting tortoises on broad-day-light
......
Mental Lilliputians
by Igor Vykhovanets
Mental Lilliputians
A tiny pity it inspires—
Not for this was life begun.
Yet still the fool, with mind on fire,
Serves evil, and gets nothing done.
-------------------------
......
Dirge of the Last Lap
by Nkwachukwu Ogbuagu
I
The loud, cruel laughter of dirge
besieges us so greatly in the face of
wanton humiliation.
It comes mightily, crashing our aged
city walls, unearthing the foundations of
churches,
tolling bells in pulsated grief . . .
......
A Stranger's Prayer
by Nkwachukwu Ogbuagu
Silly wisps of her raven hair flutter
In the winds of the long-short corridor of summer;
They snivel with the whims of cosseted sots,
Sinking in the futile harmony of winking beasts.
Pretty whiskers, soft with the ague of age, and lean
From frazzled grey.
A halo of white cotton crowns her fine dome, revealing little.
She paints the inky images of Al Hirschfeld —
Among whited, slit, black smuts needed for art’s emphases.
The greens of the season, lush and dreamy,
......
Heiligehuisjes
by Mario Odekerken
Langs de route verschijnen ze,
onopvallend en heilig tegelijk.
Bloemen in vazen,
kant op tafels,
beelden onder gewelfde doeken
alsof de hemel even afdaalt
tot op straatniveau.
Een stoel,een kruisbeeld,
het zachte kaarslicht
......
