Who's that staring through my window walls, with eyes as old as time
the clock has not yet moved and the wind outside has died
no breath for me to find nor the strength to check the time
unless the minute hand is lying theirs a chance i may have died
I wish this all a dream but the eyes i see dont lie, they have told me with their watching that all men do really cry
yet in vain is all my wishing but perhaps this is delusion of a sedimentary man with his mind ripe for losing
Come at me then red devil, I shout within my mind yet the tension I had hoped for was delayed and rather dry
no ravishingly velvet flame encircled this such room, nor were the furniture and ottoman thrown like an old shoe
marvelous the time in which a demon throwns your home and his only one intent is to stare right through your soul
to that i bid goodnight to you, to do as you wish, regardless of the manner I am nothing more then fish. to be shot out of a barrel for a fellow such as this
If you do deem it fit that I wake another morning all i ask is that the clocks all please return to working order
Copyright © chriss todd | Year Posted 2013
We hear that patience is a virtue
Is this true, or simply virtual reality
When leaders are teaching our youth;
do as I say, not as I do
Regression to a version of the American
Impatience is becoming intolerance
But to be patient is viewed as ignorance
In a blind world conforming to violence
Very few see need for benevolence
Many view crime as way of life
Government fuels fires, causing strife
Committing true crime with their lack of
Our country torn by those who lied
Promoting bigotry and distaste for the
But these days color and homosexuality
are lactose free
Intolerant of equality, it’s a problem,
Love is love, embrace the hate
Hold it tightly until it sees the light
Peace pushed just beyond our reach
We realize that “hope and change” was
just a speech
Wars raging through the land we call
In God we trust, not this powerful regime
Speak out now with virtuous impatience
Change is change no matter how small
Restore hope with unfaltering acceptance
Serve what you stand for, no time left to
Copyright © Gabrielle Charisse | Year Posted 2013
Speak gently when you offer criticism,
but don't be so soft as to sacrifice the truth.
Rumi (M. Mafi, trans)
Speak gently when you offer your truth,
when you confront violence and dissonance,
about your own egocentric merits and demerits,
but don't be so soft as to sacrifice your contented confluence,
your exegetical Orthodoxy.
Speak gently, wrestle with and not against,
when you confront dissonant overheated evils,
and remain just flexible enough to foregive
the absence of absolute truth in this HereNow moment,
about our ecocentric merits and demerits
and addiction to love and active peace
Gently root for underdog, understory, parasites
as active self-appointed Hosts sharing Earth's vast Tree of Life.
We each and all play parasite and Host economies,
hunters sometimes hunted,
lovers warm toward becoming Beloved,
hunted sometimes hunters,
fear hunts fear of hunger
thirsts for enough to recontent
polycultural simplicity, just-right enough
in balanced EcoJustice.
We each incarnate both cooperative ecologic
and competitive ego-normic.
We play our strategic games more sustainably
as we comprehend underdog parasites
are also benign Host potential,
both Yin and Yang
within a self-regenerative Tao Community
balancing EarthTribe Ways,
more joyfully greeting, meeting,
and getting through each day.
Hosting optimal regenerative spaces
for ecological cooperative economic choice making
is a wise, and strikingly shamanic, natural systemic vocation.
Eco-facilitation mentors normative logical orthopraxis
with optimizing continuously quality improving performance,
meeting design and Original Positive Teleological Intent.
EcoTherapy mentors slowing down our aspiring Ego heartbeats
while optimally filling our lungs and minds
with each Other,
rather than getting all Yanged up,
with a lot of shallow,
and talking without sufficient feeling,
as the sea through which we all fly together.
Weapons of Evil
as Teachers of Right-brained Good
Of all things, weapons are instruments of evil,
Therefore the polycultural person,
possessed of Tao's (0) Core Logos,
avoids violent tools of anger and enslavement and hate.
Polycultural Communities and Persons
favor scientific logos,
Yang mutually active peace
and care-giving protection within domestic life,
But, within undomesticated infractive occasions
favors Right-brained mythic Yin mutual accommodation,
nurturing non-violent intent and assumptions of equivalent response,
redemptive fore-giveness to meet Challenger half way,
as Other understands their needs at this time.
Predators are weapons of monocultures.
They are not the tools for polycultural sustainability.
When the use of predators cannot be helped,
The best policy is calm restraint,
minimal dissonant response frequencies and functions.
To fore-bare arms evolves proactive peacemaking.
To remain calm revolves maintainable contentment.
Even in victory, there is no boasting,
And who boasts of short-term Win-Lose outcomes
Is one who delights in violence,
unnecessarily lodges, enstates, restates
negative karmic dissonance.
Delight in EcoPathology
cannot achieve diastated EcoJustice power.
Intuited good, true, beauty favors Left-brain reception.
Dissonance, violence, evil favor Right-brain dissonant appositional feeling.
Our Ego stands on the Left's sensory input loop,
Our SuperEco stands in the Right's Elder Memory processor space.
That is to say, Elder Right celebrates Dying-Life Rites of Passage.
Speak gently Left toward Rites Passage
but don't be so Left-brained soft
that EcoJustice cannot find you,
and all EarthTribe
within each HereNow Beloved Community Event.
Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck | Year Posted 2015
WRITTEN 25TH FEB 2001
I love you all with my whole entire heart
every second, I'm left to wonder why we're apart
I try to work out what I must've done wrong
how many mothers sing this sad song
But there are no answers to my questions
Every year we have spent together
is now embedded, in my heart forever
I think hard and long
does this pain really belong
Still...there are no answers to my questions
Strength I once had to carry on
is nearly dead and gone
I say a prayer every night
to give me strength, to stay and fight
I still ask, "why us"
were we on the wrong bus
I weep a tear with every second
how do I live, like everyone reckon's
Still...I get no answers to my questions
I stay here fighting, for just one more touch
am I really asking way to much
I love my babies with every beat of my heart
please I beg you, stop keeping us apart
Still...no answers to my questions
I'm only left to Guess, that God's reason's
are truly his very own
I would like to let you know that this poem has actually be transformed into music which was mastered by Hollywood hits music production for the ongoing journey to be played in a movie or tv production. Far out I am gobsmacked.
Copyright © Denise Hopkins | Year Posted 2013
Love is one of life's greatest mysteries
It is the driving force
which shapes man's destiny
It is the very foundation
upon which life itself is built
Love is a way of life
One cannot detach oneself from Love
to make a decision
for Love is life itself
Throughout the ages
the power of Love
has gripped the hearts of men
- mighty men who feared nothing
and made them powerless
to resist its spell
Kingdoms rose and fell
Armies laid others waste
and were laid waste by others
Men died in agony at the command
of a Love-infected leader
Paris and Helen of Troy
in the Trojan war
Samson and Delilah
in the battle with the Philistines
Anthony and Cleopatra
in the Roman Civil War
Love is a potent force
that sometimes makes fools
of Earth's mighty men of valour
And yet this same Love
has been an instrument of good
with which nothing can compare
There are many kinds of love -
a man for his God
a man for his woman
a friend for his friend
a person for his kin
a man for his dog
- these and many more
Though the particular cases differ
the effect of Love is the same
- that feeling which inspires and drives men
to achieve things
they once believed impossible
Many a knight fought great odds
and won for his lady
Many a man leaves his comfortable niche
and goes out to endure
the hardship and pain
of the less fortunate
as he gives of himself unselfishly
to improve their state
because of his love for
his God, duty and ideals
History is filled with leaders
who tried to build
and maintain an empire
with the might of brute force
and failed -
Alexander The Great
a humble carpenter of Nazareth
who shunned brute force
built an empire on Love
two thousand years ago
and today it covers
the face of the earth
Copyright © john beharry | Year Posted 2013
I want to drown my urge to die
I want to kill my pulse inside
I can't breathe, I'm paranoid
Everything in life I avoid
Don't speak to me, I'll look away
Inside my eyes is just decay
I'm already dead, but have yet to die
Why do I keep my body alive
My soul is dead, eyes are lies
So is the smile I hide behind
Pull the plug, I'm a fake
In a nightmare and I cannot wake
Drown me! I'm flooded in pain
Please help me regain
Some peace, some rest
I want to die to live again
Set me free
Slitting my wrists isn't working
The more stares I get
The more I become numb
I just need to be gone
Eliminate my pain,
I'm already out of breath
Suffocating on my hopelessness
Every day I am alive
But I'm craving to die inside
Curved smile because your so naive
You think I'm happy
Yet I'm being crushed
My head is overflowing
With these thoughts that are too much
One word, suicide
Sparks a light inside of my eyes
I don't want to pretend to live
Let me go, flood me in sin
There is where I want to swim
Six feet under the ground
Don't be selfish
And keep me in pain
To tourture my lifeless body again
Let my body float soundly
Rushing water, ocean salt
I promise I won't feel it at all.
End it, hold me under
Then bury me so I can slumber
Goodbye lifeless eyes
As I'm dying I'll be coming alive
Deleted from my mind
As I leave this world behind
Floods my lungs
Leans in for a kiss
Together we sink into insanity
And drown in infinitys abyss.
Copyright © Karissa Kelley | Year Posted 2013
Like a fiery vengeance
Grasped in open hand
Cuts the loathed foe
Stains your own land
Hate surges like flood
Shatters the weak soul
Spilling the divine blood
Of both sides involved
Anger drives men crazy
Like a tropical storm
Loss are assessed lately
When started to mourn
Forgiveness is not easy
And not for everyone
Don’t wait until query
What have I done?
Copyright © Jonathan Medida | Year Posted 2014
RISKING THE RISK
Many things happen under the sun and moon
Nobody cares if it escapes the understanding of the common man
Life is bigger than logic; living is a colossal mystery juxtaposed to existence
Of what use is the mouth if it can’t speak up when needed?
What else is the purpose of the ear if it can’t hear what is happening?
Blindness is the better option if the eye can’t see what its there to see
What again awaits the man that has brain and can’t make use of it; Death?
Who would see a fight and not fight it out with the fight?
What would it profit a man if he gives in to intimidation & looses his rights?
Would you rather be killed when you can kill your killer?
Nobody gave me a chance; I took one
Not ready to think about the risk: let the result be won
Heard everybody dies and not everybody has lived
So, I preferred being the lion that died and not the sheep that lived
So busy daring for many things and not hoping for nothing
Calculations never made a hero; zero plus zero equals to nothing
So destined for greatness; it requires me to take risks and confront hazards
Tomorrow will give birth to both sexes; got the prophecy from the wizards
Refusing to be among the cautious crowd that refuse to play not to loose
I stood out to play to win; won the crown and the queen, then let hell loose.
Intimidation has intimidated me enough that I refuse to be intimidated
I hate that boy that have accepted to be trampled upon by a lesser being
I love the girl that have insisted on standing on her rights and not falling
Shame to the man that is biased and can’t stand on the side of truth & justice
Oh! She said; there is one concept of truth but can be realized in many ways
Glory to who deserves glory; let someone pay respect to the glorified guru
Many came, saw & couldn’t conquer what the few didn’t see, yet conquered
Thought himself a god and treaded on the path angels are afraid to tread on
His ego is stupidly big; he foolishly offended the wrong person that is right
He took the risky risk; now, the outcome can’t be over, risking him a risk.
Copyright © Victor Alexander | Year Posted 2013
a priceless child
with his imagination
breaks an empty glass
I’m going to kill you
tosses the child across the room
beats him with a plastic broom
for something so replaceable
who should be held responsible
for the child with a violent past
sitting on death row
all from a broken a glass
Copyright © Nailah Baniti | Year Posted 2016
Thorns piercing through my heart while it's burning. Vines flowing out of my soul, and I look to the sky. Hallelujah, I'm alive. Hallelujah I'm whole.
Smoke of cigarettes flame out into the open. Feelings of charm and warmth pass across my lungs. I see twelve or more dwarfs marching in rows. One of them stepped on my toes.
Planes flying into the fog, and women being rapped in the alleys. The life we lead are lies, planned out like puppets from another dimension.
Time can't save us. We save time to save us. The sun goes down, and everything is quiet. Birds chirping, and the wind blowing white snowflakes onto my face.
Walking passed the church. Blood on White. Everything's a fight. We rise to the golden gates and we look upon the spirits.
The leaders and missions fail. It's not the end of this tale, when soon there will be more blood shed. Anger and hatred have no room. Live the life you are born to lead, or you will just be another blood on white.
Copyright © Teresa Habas | Year Posted 2013
You are not,
The machete that mauls the mound
That sends the ants scampering from the hill,
Preys to the threading feet and the hungered hens
You are not!
The gunpowder that blasts the barn
Heralding the angry bleats,
And inviting the cock-made complaints
No, you are not!
The arrow that pierces the air
Erasing the lines of the birds
Chasing the dark clouds into the sun
You are not
What they wash into your pores
What they sing into your being
What they carve into your heart
You are not
Apart from the tears that tear
Detached from the broken earthenware
For you are human too.
Copyright © Akudo Ekeh | Year Posted 2016