In my country,
Seeing smoky sky
But Killing kids kills
Me everyday, every minute
No matter with
Or lightening rockets;
It is being our daily habit
No more choices:
To die or but to die
Silently without even a whispered Cry,
Or a small bit of a registered grave;
It is happening now just in my country!
Authored by Chuck Keys
It had no color,
Lacking shape, size and dimension.
It wasn't moving or breathing.
There was neither aroma nor taste, not here or there.
Touching was useless because it wasn't physical.
It was indistinct and limitless.
Multi-sensually and multi-psychologically
It wasn't here or there and it was.
With no distinction,
It looked like everything else,
Or it could not have looked like everything else.
It never made me feel good nor bad,
Nor happy nor sad
Nor quite nor trite.
In our world of joy and destroy, we sort and distort,
Looking more on the surface and less on the inside,
Ready to judge and be judged from outside in.
The "oneness" of mankind stretches beyond definitions and limits,
From outside to inside and from inside to outside.
We are one distinct and alike world of "oneness."
Differences exist for differences,
Therefore, differences don't exist.
Only "oneness" exists.
This poem is dedicated to Dr. Clayborne Carson and The Gandhi-King Community,
For Global Peace with Social Justice in a Sustainable Environment.
History will not record the bloated weight
Of this pious and bigoted race
Or count the fat and flaccid wealth
Of religions idolatry
Those pages have been scrubbed clean
By prosperous forgivingness
And the cruelty of established political dominion
Will not tally the bodies of the oppressed
To them, faith and belief are merely a weapon
A system of abusive control
And a means of power continuation
A dictatorial right to rule the population
History will not record the inheritance of opinion
But lay blind at the doors of massacre
The Aztec, The Aborigine, The North American Indian, The African Negro,
Pray in silence to The Church
Centuries written in blood and torture
For a message of verbiage and usage
Extracted and leeched from the poor and uneducated
Created the western dream
The long night of the witch hunt is not over
The Inquisition has saved us
With fake blood and wooden crosses
This elite of moral perspective shall save us all
We have paid the price in conscience
Superiority managed by white skinned indifference
Holy mother church has welcomed all
All into its iron embrace of slack jawed wonder
And what more despicable rule can there be
Than to dictate ones own spiritual journey
Spouted by the rote of political expediency
And the promise of heaven
Ingrained now this so called Christian ethic
And so much of the truth left distorted
Forgotten now are the ancient mystical secrets
Which united mankind to understanding
Idol of gold and crucifixion
Of cathedral and stained glass objectification
Gilt and holy water of sumptuous ritual
Of silken pope and luxurious self righteous invention
An aberration of human faith and belief
An unrepentant destroyer of “ Loves ” dream
The curse of The Christ as you continue to translate
And where the paupers fist crunches the dirt
Where dried and parched lips pray for rain
Where the desperate cry for a reason echoes
Where blood flows in feted anger
Where children scream in fear
Where hunger and despair debase and demean
Where there is no light
And in the dark only pain
If you wish to care for the souls of mankind
It is there with them
Is where you should be
I saw you walking towards me and as you came near,
I became aware my bag was open and tried to subtly tuck it, closed under my arm.
You looked at me with a smile that said more than hello,
put your hands up beside your head, an exaggerated gesture of peace, and walked on.
I dropped my eyes.
You stayed with me all of that day.
I told you how small it made me feel, that you had seen your reflection in my eyes and recognised an altered image.
I apologised deeply for the fact that you saw this image, reflected a hundred times a day,
I wondered what that might do to me,
and understood your sarcasm, why you wanted me to feel ashamed,
and I told you that I did.
I recounted a story a man once told, about travelling and seeing a young boy,
with ice blue eyes, and blonde hair, cleaning the urinals he was about to use,
and how uncomfortable this made him,
not because there was someone cleaning the urinals,
but because, this someone had blue eyes, and blonde hair,
which meant the boy was better than him.
He realised he believed this,
as a sophisticated man,
and he didn’t know how to change it,
it was what he had always been told.
I remembered some one telling me,
she felt no shame in stealing from me,
because all I had, I only had through thievery.
I spoke about hearing a man talk to a crowded room,
saying that he acknowledged the fact,
that he only had what he had,
because others were deprived,
that he has benefited and continues to,
by standing on the backs of others who were forced onto their knees.
I remember a women in the crowd,
who thanked him,
with emotion heavy in her voice, she thanked him,
and told him he had healed a part of her,
by owning his privilege.
I wondered aloud what owning this meant,
and if it came with a responsibility.
I told you that I felt dirty,
when spoken to as if I were older than I am.
I remembered someone who I considered a friend,
telling me he would kill me, for skin alone,
if a civil war broke out.
I spoke to you about the woman,
who told me she was successful,
and she was educated,
and somehow it felt like, and was secretly considered, a betrayal,
a rejection of the self,
and sometimes she hated her success,
and that she was split inside herself.
I tried to make coherent sense of the many exchanges I have had,
with myself and others,
about shame, about guilt, about anger,
about a solution,
and I cried,
and I told you that I wished,
we could have this conversation.
They are in meaningless session again
Not seeking to serve but to practice the deception
Not seeking to lead but to mislead
Taking black and white, creating gray
Don't wave that flag if you do not honor it
Oppression by omission. You have given
But rights to the dissidents and wrongs to the citizens
Hear me now
I cannot replace the spine you're missing
ONE NATION UNDER GOD
If you cannot accept you cannot lead
If you cannot lead you are the problem
Authorizing condemnation and treason
Banning prayer and patriotism
Once filled with victory and pride
Now mired in failure
Represent or resign, serve or secede
Make a stand for once or fall forever
We no longer will tolerate
One nation UNDER GOD.
His messages are always elaborative.
We converse as if we know each other well.
He is a famous poet on the Soup.
He writes his verses with depth.
Bravo, Richard Lamoureux you are one of the best!
I like when you spread your wings to write a poetic text.
His philosophy intrigues.
His words are high literacy.
Rick I will call him via commenting
but he is such a Ricky through inner strength.
Bravo, Richard Lamoureux for being the one I tribute!
I love when your libretti smiles uplifting my spirit and making me feel
He can be quite cynical.
My respond is to explain some more.
Richard is what I call him then.
I know he is talking to me as a friend.
Bravo, Richard Lamoureux!
This is a tribute to you.
I will close now.
I hope you frame this and hang it high.
Let the world know you shine.
Your motivational and inspiratory poetic voice is precious.
Bravo, Richard Lamoureux this tribute is to you!
Continue to instigate; this encourages another to write.
PENNED ON AUGUST 17, 2014!
(Maverick Free Verse about a true life Maverick)
hey, Mr. Editor, you got it wrong
labeling Allen West as Congress’s “Most Vulnerable”
insult to his character
ambush of American troops planned
Colonel West fired shots near an Iraqi prisoner’s head
information obtained, ambush prevented
no blood shed, not even the prisoner’s
thankless military bureaucracy
forced him to retire
Colonel West proclaimed,
“The battlefield’s no place for political correctness”
“Don’t blow sunshine up my butt,”
Maverick West warned, standing his ground
refused to march
to a “Machiavellian Kumbaya”
had he been a West Point grad
West would have been promoted
adorned with medals
accolades for soldiers saved
soldier’s mother spoke out; see it her way
“I hope my son’s commanders protect him as Allen did”
behind a shield of political ties
Allen never hides
in a Democratic district this Tea Partier rose
disenfranchised Americans cheered
do you think West deserves
beatings from the press
watch your “Most Vulnerable”
rise to prominence
if this hero hasn’t earned his seat in Congress
Mr. Editor, tell me who has
* Allen West represents the Tampa area of Florida in the U.S. Congress.
In 2003, when West was a battalion commander in Taji, Iraq, he fired his weapon
near the head of a prisoner to frighten the detainee into divulging information about
a planned ambush. The detainee started providing information and the ambush of
American soldiers was prevented. West was removed from command and the Army
considered a court martial. West argued he acted to save his troops, was fined
$5,000, but was allowed to retire with full honors and benefits.
Primose path leads to the slaughter of American
dream delete pause proficiency with internetty
webbegone after thoughts of yahoo googleyed
interred intracacises that shed benign capsules of
mom entary apple pie delquiences cooling
the soul shopping for the next alias avenue of
pointless me procurement mauling an ongoing
onerous dildodate vis a vie meme.com/me in
an engaging omnipresence of sextext no tact
spell ckeck chicshicshakplak no sense tic tac.
Talk? Walk? Balk? Chalk? Sue? Sulk?
Dinosaur diligence posse with the senior
gestages gestulating, we r forevre 21 and ying yang
dung. Yes, good f ing luck with that!! Look at your
petridish parents and see what box u check to lid close
and abscond with the lost liberal leftovers. That
is you in reverse in a few carnal years after Hilter youth
children decide to screw us as the new
generation which skewer post present parental postulates
to the oldster outhouse outlets so u can be "youf" free. Little
do they notknow as they cumulatively co opulate
that they set the stooge stage for no thanx ahole actions.
The DOS does'nt fall from the Apple tree. Leave it,
love it, learn it while ye may, the kid crisp cosmos of
offspring social dicktates are biting at your heartbeatbit
empty elmo enterprises. Pause parenatal prenatal
preferences prepearing perinatal persons pretasking
postnatal practices, in which you have veno papa preparation.
Think before you For Unlawful Carnal Knowledge and Analyze
your ass-incarnate initiate. Borrow berofe u basterdize,
condomize before u copu culminate, decide before
u dicktate, envision before u envy, fail before u foil,
grasp before u germinate, halt before u hinder,
illuminate before u illerate, jump before u jinx,
kill before u keep, love before u lay, meaning before
moaning, neutralize before u now, obilerate before
u ooops! presence before predicament, quit before
quake, resilience before ridiculous, sanity before
sexusensuality, thinkth before u thumpth, utilize
before u unionize, victory before victimization, we
before want, xx nor xy, zen before zeal. Pocket
passion files fly in the face of ruined reason residules
to the point of pronounced perplextion plagued
prominantly with no recall references to problematic
protocals for near north normalicies in my buckeye
life measures of simpatico silly symbiosis sublime
of mini me monophile mucous made misdemeanor
milktoast memories. Pass go, collect $200.
In a modern setup,
Vibrant visions evaporates
To emptiness, nothingness and waywardness.
Leaving the people in stark darkness,
Leading to nowhere,
As penury is declared "king",
Hunger succeeds the throne
As blind leaders hardened the
Economy like bone.
Giving peanuts to the peasants
But gold for the wealthy,
Oh! what a chess game in the midst
Of blind spectators.....
Mothers swaying in tattered rags,
Struggling with drying breasts which
Produces the hopeful milk of the skinny infants...
Children strolling with empty plates
Searching for who to wet their throats.
Fathers planting courage and assurance,
Hoping the land will be milky someday,
Yet the center is not holding
For heads are plenty but the brains are few...
Therefore turning weakening hearts
To marauding crooks,
Staining their whites,
Be litling their lives,
Insulting their hands
Making the land stink,
While Africa bears the smell,
To the detriment of her virtue.
Our agricultural and peaceful
"green white green", they've turned to
A dark and bloody "red black red".
Now who leads who in this
Criminal war front, corrupt justice
And indecisive generation?
Things fall apart when truth step aside,
Evil takes the lead when black minds
Score the goal...
Things fall apart when the people can't merge.
~My True Story 16 Years Of War~
!6 years of living in fear every minute, 16 years living with barely
any electricity,water, food,hurt from humiliation standing
in line for hours to maybe obtain a loaf of bread for my children,
some days due to lack of water, we would shower from the pouring
rain on the roof,and for us that was a good day.
The fear of being stopped at a barrier from the militia, and if they
decide to kill at the time, we would have been a good target,
agonizing each day not knowing when a lost bomb would
penetrate our roof tops,or bedrooms,running down for shelter
at our neighbors first floor home,sometimes days in the same
clothes no food,not even a drop of water,as we could not move
from the hilarious shelling,bullets aimed at us the innocent who had
nothing to do with politics and war.
We lived without once hearing a siren so we can run to the
shelter,nothing indicated where the shells will land,we had
sometimes to cross the street to hide in our church,or other
gatherings to escape the guerillas.
The only way to know if I can go to work and kids to
university,was listen to the radio just to guess which way
was safer to drive,many times over the years, bombs landed
not far from my car,had to leave and run underneath it
as a protection,my eldest son was once kidnapped for 3 days,
once the banging on our door so loud, they came to take
my children to fight with them, because they lacked
men on the field.
Days I would arrive late to work due to the bombs.
My fear progressed as I was doomed and sensed disaster.
In summer we had no air condition due to no electricity,
in winter we had no heating,days we slept with our winter
coats if we were not already in the shelter,16 years of war
we slept awake.
My strength out of love to both my children,they graduated
my eldest became an architect,and the youngest became a
Had to send them away at a very early age,left alone with
my husband at the time. My duty was fulfilled when they
A happening that happened during that war,was my secret
for years and years,I hid it,I kept it alive inside of me,not to
allow anyone discover how I died and lived only because of
my love towards my children,I was hiding for years,now only
something stirred deep in me,a voice,begging me to come
at peace within myself,is the only way to write it down,as
enough is enough,no details,I will write,none to ask what,
why,when,who,only the rape happened,my spirit and soul
agonized,now I am a free woman.No more tears, no more
Today in a new country of freedom accepted me 25 years ago
as a political refugee, I am very happy, my children are safe,
As we did survive 16 years of a major war in our country.
Freedom is so beautiful,feeling safe having showers,eating,
variety of food,getting a heater to remain warm,air condition
during summer,driving with no fear,walking with a sense of
freedom,it took us a while to return to normal,
the truth became beautiful due to the transformation of our
inner spirits,living in the depth of darkness for years took
sometime to regroup our inner souls to run far from darkness
and live into the light again. Free At Last.
19 June 2013
Contest for Tim Morrison. Tell Me A True Story. WIN ( NO. 1)