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My Baby And His Bro (fake Names Though)

mostafa is a little boy
no more then 9
his brother yells
and pulls his little ears
and that's no lie

one day i told
mostafa's brother
to not do
those things to him
so abed stoped
hurting his brother
and respected my wishes
now mostafa has no respect
to his brother abed
witch i find a bit funny

yesterday abed made mai cry
so i made up a party
for all the singles in canada

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poem by Natalia Anna Joelie
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In View of the Biblical Zoo

Over the tree line towards the valleys end
Abed Abed-Rabbo raises a hand
The farm he surveys, his father's before him
Has been past down for generations in keeping with custom

In view of the Biblical Zoo
A farm of olives trees is a refreshing contrast
Against an imposing backdropp of urban concrete
And an ever expanding city complex

But because of the need for living space
This established ecosystem is being replaced
And Abed Abed-Rabbo is now forced to abdicate
His precious Olive farm, with its one room sleeping cave

Against urban sprawl and concrete walls
Alone one man can not possibly stand
And any amount of compensation cannot match
The resulting environmental impact

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poem by Chris Lane
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The Daily Act of Presence

Eight hours at work, commuting sometimes two,
the daily act of presence is assigned
its p[l]ace, weak celebration paid in kind,
traced race to waste bereft, much left to do.

Eight hours abed, at table almost two,
the daily act of presence, daily grind,
few dare opt out of as life's clocks unwind, -
such haste to conquer Time, whose ride’s askew.

Three hours of leisure, then, without ado,
day's drive departs, leaves most deprived of breath.
Who'd buck luck's trend bends in the end to Death
whose lock mocks motto 'to thyself be true! '

Three hours for chat, sex, net or television,
no wonder Man’s case-study for derision.

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poem by Jonathan Robin
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Of Three Children

OF THREE CHILDREN CHOOSING
A CHAPLET OF VERSE

You and I and Burd so blithe—
Burd so blithe, and you, and I—

The Mower he would whet his scythe
Before the dew was dry.

And he woke soon, but we woke soon
And drew the nursery blind,

All wondering at the waning moon
With the small June roses twined:

Low in her cradle swung the moon
With an elfin dawn behind.

In whispers, while our elders slept,
We knelt and said our prayers,

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poem by Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch
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Hafbur And Signy

TRANSLATED FROM THE DANISH.

King Hafbur & King Siward
They needs must stir up strife,
All about the sweetling Signy
Who was so fair a wife.
O wilt thou win me then,
or as fair a maid as I be?

It was the King’s son Hafbur
Woke up amid the night,
And ’gan to tell of a wondrous dream
In swift words nowise light.

“Me-dreamed I was in Heaven
Amid that fair abode,
And my true-love lay upon mine arm
And we fell from cloud to cloud.”

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poem by William Morris
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I never knew a man come to greatness or eminence who lay abed late in the morning.

quote by Jonathan Swift
Added by Lucian Velea
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curtains drawn,
the emperor's love
still lies abed—
on crimson peonies,
the morning sun shines

tanka by Masaoki Shiki
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Five Little Toes In The Morning

This little toe is hungry-
This little toe is too,
This toe lies abed like a sleepy head,
And this toe cries 'Boo-hoo.'
This toe big and tall is the smartest of all
For he pops into stocking and shoe.

poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Lost Passport

Lost passport in the name of Peter Smith
(it’s true and not a myth)
Was successfully returned,
For a certain consideration,
Without any frustration,
To Shukri Ahmad Abed Abu Rushid
For the wide world’s need.

poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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The abilities of man must fall short on one side or the other, like too scanty a blanket when you are abed. If you pull it upon your shoulders, your feet are left bare; if you thrust it down to your feet, your shoulders are uncovered.

quote by Thomas Paine
Added by Lucian Velea
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