I saw a man once on TV
He was hunting grizzly bear
Then bear, he got the upper hand
And blood was everywhere
That man was in an awful state
But I lacked in sympathy
You live by sword, you die by sword
That’s just the way it be.
I knew a man, a fisherman
He hunted for big fish
But when his boat did over turn
He never got his wish
Cause big shark came and took his life
And Karma, it was done
It seems that this time hunter lost
And mother nature won.
It seems some folk are low on soul
And only live to kill
I have no sympathy for these
And nor I ever will
When the game gets turned around
They’ve only they to blame
Because they gained their pleasure from
This heartless killing game.
The joy of the pheasant shoot.
Getting set for the big event
The good folk do their stuff
They beat the earth with sticks, do they?
With their little dogs so tough
They flush those pheasants from the scrub
So all can have some fun
Killing them with smiling faces
As they fire beloved guns.
Then as the pheasants in a panic
They bolt into the sky
Our hero’s with their guns in hand
Make sure that hundreds die
As the air is filled with the cracking sounds
As birds fall all around
Just so these fools can get there jollies
These corpses cover ground.
I wonder sometimes if these hero’s
Have any souls at all
That they could get such satisfaction
Doing these acts so cruel
Sometimes it leaves me speechless
At the way folk get their pleasure
Killing beauty just for fun
Is an ugly kind of leisure.
10 September 2013 @ 1340hrs
I'll write to you of medieval ages,
Foreign lands,knights and of many sages.
Medieval verse,and versification
With ancient meter I shall imitate,
To flesh out this age's animation.
And stories fictional and real I'll tell.
The souls of sundry virtues and vices
I shall show to men of all kinds of eyes,
So that I their souls might excite to life.
Who truly is alive without his senses,
yet many minds live with mental fences.
The Gods were chased away from this bright land,
And many countries were drowned in darkness.
Art was unpainted,clogged up fairy wells.
Unlearning became the new science of man
And music deemed to be of Satan birthed
For its mirth, and carnal rhythmic pleasures.
Oh of truth this divine art of muses,
Music's mothers, the soul with beauty fuses,
Yet still were libraries burned to ashes,
and with timeless secrets the fool clashes.
Empires undone from within and out,
To be hewn down by hounds to war devout,
Who from savage forests came to devour
The sheep and the pampered puppies of Rome.
The Gods did pity these once great races,
the light torchbearers which the dark faces
with it’s all consuming flames of sheer might
which scorches into ashes scrap and dross,
to fuel its holy energy and fire,
the giver to mankind of life so sought.
Made up super heroes we're taught to love
Made up archetypes we watch get rough
We cheer on as they dispense justice
We've stopped questioning why we idolize this
As our heroes have become more brutal and more violent
We've become more detached and less present
We're passing our degradation of what it means to be a hero to the next generation
They won't be impressed until it's more violent, bloodier, the next super brutal sensation
No need for violence or aggression
A passive acceptance of oppression
A powerful tool for social protest
To be peaceful and not violence many will resist
It presumes the intent of social change
Some believe not using belligerence is insane
Nonviolence is a synonym for pacifism
When you hear this word, you associate it with Civil Rights and racism
Nonviolence is not inaction it is the patience to win
You gain a lot of support, love, respect, and friends
See many people do not like change
So many have used diverse methods in their peaceful campaigns
Dr. Martin Luther King seen peace and equality to all races in his dream
Mahatma Gandhi helped India win its independence through bigotry that was extreme
I think that we should inevitably re-shape the social order in a lack of prejudice form
If we constantly use peace, we can weather many of these racial motivated storms
To listen to another's point of view is largely dependent on reciprocity
Not injustice, hate, and apathy
That is what makes me so angry
Remember what Jesus’ says, "love thine enemy”
"Nonviolence means avoiding not only external physical violence but also internal violence of
spirit. You not only refuse to shoot a man, but you refuse to hate him."
Martin Luther King
Treat people as if they were what they ought to be and you help them to become what they
are capable of being.
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
An eye for an eye only makes the whole world blind.
Mahatma Mohandas K. Gandhi
The paddock’s filled with bulls
All waiting there to die
They don’t have too much future
For the farmer, he’s the guy
Who has the power of life, and death
He decides what lives and dies
As he fattens each beast carefully
That’s where his money lies.
I see these creatures roaming round
And it makes me feel quite sad
To know that for my appetite
These beasts be treated bad
The taste of steak is mighty good
But what a price we pay
I eat my share of it, that’s true
Perhaps I’ll stop one day!
One paddock filled with bulls
It opens my eyes wide
To realize these wondrous beasts
Throughout the years have died
So I might feast with bulging belly
It really is not fair
Living on this little farm
It fills my heart with care.
To whit to be caught between two brothers
and become the sport of many others
She kept her heart from loving true
but not from the damage passing through
Oh twice spent the beauties coin
did deliberate vengence to purloin
thought knowingly did enter door
in spite she cast them to the floor
Though twas for couple it's own collusion
the device and trap it's own illusion
the crimes waylaid doth carry to the grave
to curse ones soul as fearful and not brave
Twas the story carried in her mind
her face to others she wished were blind
and with ones sight to look upon her heart
to know in violence was her start
She thought those sins would ever last
or to shake the paths of her past
in her fears her heart down cast
she did not know to forgiveness ask
Unable to differentiate between love and need
or if womans desire was only greed
If man looks upon her with his smile
is he looking for love or just another trial
She asks those questions to this day
must there be violence to graveyard pay
for many men have forced their way
in their behavior did have no say
COPYRIGHT © 2009 C Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC
I do not know?
Looking out with apathy as strong as currents from the greatest seas. Destined to roam yet destinies free lost within the symphonic ballad containing all of lives mysteries. Will we ever see what we were ment to be or are we trapped within our self created Fantasy.
Screaming down from up above all of them calling "blood for blood" covering the cries from within being sure to never allow them to win. Within the blink of an eye and the burning within, turning tranquility to violence and violence will spread leaving those who oppose feeling hopless, dead. Suppressed by the sovereignty we are buried by power.In the end it's me,perhaps even we, who must begin to fear what humanuty will grow to be..
Man whose that chick over there repping blue
thinking she can come up here and mess with my man.
Don't she know who she's messing with?
i got to show her wassup.
Can't come up in my territory
thinking she owns this place.
Who she think she is?
Such violence rises
Gosh that chick over there
look like she want to start something.
Need to call up the boys.
She don't know who she's messing with
and what she's about to get herself into.
Do she know who I am?
As these gangs and violence mix like water and oil,
full confrontation blend and war is reborn.
This division of color
leaves them blind to see what is really there.
To see who is really there.
More people die everyday
because one person chooses to allow that effect,
chooses to allow that resentment,
chooses to allow that hatred.
Red tears fill the ocean young souls swim in
just because, YOU claim another color.
May 19, 2007. I was murdered on the front steps
of my door. My little brother still remembers
the day i fell on my back.
May 30, 2007. I was murdered at my niece's birthday
party at the park because THEY thought that
I shot HER.
My last visual was seeing her blow our her candles
and making a wish.
June 1, 2007. I sit here in this room.
Between two cousins, two lifeless bodies.
One shot at home, the other shot at the park.
Such lust for regret represses
Misery Laid Upon Soft Kindled Pine
The great Judge marks this hour at noon
bright was this day in month of June
A kinship richly felt with wooded glen
saddened by the evil in hearts of men
A fierce battle for land was fought
death reigned supreme all for naught
Blood splashed upon the limbs and leaves
sorrow grips as each family grieves
Dead feel not the heat of burning Sun
no real glory felt by those that won
Misery laid upon softly kindled pine
vultures fly waiting to come to dine
The carnage shook the stars on high
time not given from sweet good-byes
An unwelcome breeze stings this land
all for naught, but evil in death's hand
The great Judge marks this day of pain
as tears fall ,victims lay in dashing rain
A new day awaits the glory of hope sent
forgiveness for the wasted lives spent
June birds now flitter, renewing song
lives so saddened move right on along
Human spirit always racing to survive
rarely embracing joy of just being alive
Returning Sun shines upon life and all
man's fate is to live then greatly fall
Other journeys await in mystical realms
so many great ships, captains and helms
09, 15, 1977
note: I have little memory of why I wrote this one
back then. Perhaps a book I read, movie I watched
or blues that wrapped me so often during that time.