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Michael Harman Poem
I go to the conference,
she explains, no self-discipline,
no self control, just lazy
an F student
I agree, he has none
but neither do i,
no one taught me,
so how do i teach him?
"I guess we are losers"
She is angry
Copyright © Michael Harman | Year Posted 2010
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Michael Harman Poem
When you pulled the trigger
you came to me and tried to love me
ask my forgiveness,
it made me cry, it was so cold
I shook with your suffering
I drew you in the afterlife
alone and crying with gods light
asking you to come
Your remorse,
your shame, a mistake,
you had so much to give
i painted two trees
one that was dying
the other was dead
the tree loved you
amd misses you still
Copyright © Michael Harman | Year Posted 2009
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Michael Harman Poem
What does it mean when i cant stop thinking about someone?
What does it mean when i am obsessing?
paranoid they dont love me in return?
aching to be around them?
to smell their scent of something .....something...
beautiful, primal, instinctual, a need to have.
nothing will satisfy the "need" to have them NOW and in the future.
Is then when i purchase her with a ring?
Own her sexuality till death do we part.
I must own her.... forever.....
Copyright © Michael Harman | Year Posted 2010
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Michael Harman Poem
So, granny, they tell me you died yesterday
i wish i could have known you better,
i wish i knew the stories you had,
of love and loss, of joy and sorrow,
I could sit for hours, listening, and learning
A sweet old lady, with a long history, how beautiful is that?
I was busy, struggling, with my own story.
Wow, i do have regret, a loss,
i guess, i should have reached out to you,
been your student,
what did you have to teach?
I hear you were angry,
9 children, dozens of grandchildren and theirs
no one visited you, showed you love,
not even me.
So, you are in the afterlife now,
released, and let go of the tired body.
Our tears are with you, in our loss,
We all loved you, but were too wounded by life,
to see you, to know you, to be close.
The love we should have had.
I painted you, sitting in purgatory,
surrounded by the angels of healing,
I ask the angels to hold you gently as you cry,
and nurture your wounds from this life
The colors of regret and anger,
dissolving,
into acceptance and love.
we all need you to heal quickly
and be our guide.
A voice from heaven
teaching us to love more, give more and forgive.
We all give thanks to the life you lived,
and the lives you brought into this world.
We will all appreciate each other more,
a little more giving, a little more love,
all inspired by the life you lived and left.
Copyright © Michael Harman | Year Posted 2010
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Michael Harman Poem
In a land far away, in a time not so far past.
A recession came and the people were poor.
The middle class had lost everything,
The bankers and the rich owned them,
Taking their homes and letting them starve,
Interest, the signature, soul sold, bought.
Marx had come onto the scene and Blavatasky.
Ideas, revolt, change, power to the people.
Crush the bankers and the rich: take their wealth.
Feed the people, empower the ordinary man.
One man came forward, a painter, an artist.
Lead the revolution, a powerful orator.
Hate the rich, hate the evil bankers and business owners.
Free market, competition, trickle down economics, died.
The new key word: Socialism. Steal from the rich to feed the people.
His name was Hitler, loved by the people. Kill the rich.
The rich were the Jews, their religion is designed to accumulate wealth.
No love, no artists, conformity, conservatives, defending their wealth.
Team up with the western capitalists, demonize socialism.
Capitalists start war with socialists. Rationalize, demonize.
The capitalists and the Jews vs the people of Germany.
Germany kills the Jews, just a few, not six million.
Don’t believe the lies of the capitalists.
The final solution, kill the rich, French Revolution.
It will happen again, same story, different time and place.
Modern bankers, Wall street, corporations, raped the people.
The middle class is dying, and our future is already coming.
Copyright © Michael Harman | Year Posted 2010
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Michael Harman Poem
I once had a friend,
A friend that I fell in love with,
She hid herself from me: to be worthy,
I was too pure, and burnt her with my light,
She knew she must become more to be with me,
Honest, giving, serving humanity,
She knew of self-love,
Something that was beat out of me as a child
It was beautiful for me to see,
I thought she could teach me this,
I knew I had so much to teach her,
Symbiotic: my favorite word
I trusted her, she never did trust me
She loved herself too much to trust another,
Too afraid to be hurt, or go into the pain
And share it with another: the healing,
She runs away from it, avoidance,
running from herself, her past,
I am glad she is running in circles,
She will return to finish this with me.
Copyright © Michael Harman | Year Posted 2010
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Michael Harman Poem
Why do you use sex as a control weapon?
You pretend to not know that we need it.
The monster must be alleviated, released.
We get sex when we get a promotion,
or our birthday or when we buy you a gift.
What greed is that?
Can you even have a real orgasm? Or faking it?
We know you have one when you do our best friend!
You ignore that in all of history we have owned you!
And now you are free, free to use it to control us.
And when we cheat, you feel so betrayed.
Anger that we were stupid enough
To commit to you for life,
When we didn’t know that you were so ungiving,
To care about our sexual needs.
You expect us to control it, are you stupid? Naïve?
Men are molesting children: their own children, because of women like you!
I know, because most of the women I have dated were abused by their own fathers.
The best we could hope for is that they only cheat with another adult.
Why are these women staying with men that abused their own daughters?
This has got to STOP.
These lies must STOP.
Cutting our foreskin does not stop us from masturbating, or needing!
Grahame Crackers are useless. Other men, Craigslist, Bathrooms, YMCA!
Men are becoming gay, roleplaying the fantasies of their oppressed mothers.
Spank me daddy! Whose your daddy? Make me do it!
We men are having a hard time transitioning into the freedoms you have!
Look at history or the rural Muslims killing their wives or the Africans cutting off the clitoris.
This issue is tearing humanity apart!
All the divorces, are because of you not servicing your man.
He would never hurt you or leave you if he was satisfied sexually!
This means you have to exercise and stay fit for him to be proud of his mate!
So if you gain weight and not care for his pride: You are the abuser!
Milk your husbands, or they will find someone else too.
All because you are so self-centered, lazy, and greedy for power.
So whose your daddy? I AM,
Copyright © Michael Harman | Year Posted 2010
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Michael Harman Poem
Satan the great temptor
What is he tempting us to do?
A fallen Angel that wants us to worship him? instead of God?
Ask a devil worshiper and they will explain: they worship themselves.
That is what devil worship is.
Devil worship is an action not a religion.
It is worshipping your happiness and that of YOUR family.
What is evil? but human selfishness?
Is any evil ever done that is not human induced?
Isnt the rest, just acts of God?
Natural disasters? Accidents? Animal attacks?
The need for power, greed, more than another.
The gratification in people looking up to us is our ecstasy.
The joy in having more than another is our peace.
Do you have the new flatscreen or the best car?
A big house to show off to others? Your success?
Success in beating down others makes us happy.
Member of the country club? Beautiful mate? Smart kids?
Me, Me, Me, I, I, I.
We all do it, we are trained too as small children. Capitalism.
Giving up on selfishness is the most difficult thing a human can do.
In my culture, we worship Satan: The devil: Ouselves: Individualism.
We are tempted to put our family before anyone else and follow the temptation.
Stop lying to yourself, you do also. Lets just admit it.
We are selfish, and that is Devil Worship.
Copyright © Michael Harman | Year Posted 2010
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Michael Harman Poem
9/11
The world trade towers,
The pentagon and the white house.
Attack THEM, they are evil.
The government that protects the oil corps.
The American Government uses its military to steal oil.
Socialize the losses and privatize the profits.
Stupid, confused, Americans.
Israel is an American military base
1948,
Control the oil, control the future.
Truman, cemented America as a superpower.
Israel: Expanding settlements, stealing land.
In trade for keeping the oil in the hands of corps.
Oil traded in dollars: no Euros allowed,,,
Or we beat the war drums, evoke fear.
America and its Zionist military base.
Topple democracies, replace them with dictators,
No taxing the rich to feed the people in the middle east.
Socialism is evil.
We worship greed, AKA: Capitalism
The people want to tax the oil companies and get a check,
The way they do in Alaska
Sarah Palin, The American socialist, who is too ignorant to know it.
If this is not the history you know…
Either I am ignorant or you are….
Oh, my voice is like nails on chalkboard, it cant be true can it?
My propaganda of anti-Americanism
I love this country, my friends and enemies tell me to leave it,
But this is my country and I am here to change it.
I will go down with my ship
Copyright © Michael Harman | Year Posted 2010
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Michael Harman Poem
No curse words allowed
are you confused, lost, ignorant
you are no artist, you have shunned art
and its true purpose
what is art? but an expression
the low and vile are the most potent
Did you forget, Emerson The Poet
He would call you "selfish and sensual"
"an umpire of taste"
"proof of the shallowness of the doctrine of beauty"
in a world of suffering, of loss
Art isnt happy, and flowers in the park
you, in your confusion, hide in the dark
hide any truths of pain and suffering
and by doing so you have lost your soul
You are only half a person
art is an expression of life and its hidden
what is in a word? something to hide from?
something to fear? to censor? to fight?
are you that ashamed of language?
honesty? expressions of shame?
You are no poet, no artist
you are no immortal,
of course you are so cowardly and weak
you will hide from me, censor me,
avoid the truth, lie to the world
if you cant stomach a curse word
then you cant handle me
any immortal would crush you
and leave you wounded
truly contemplating your life
breaking you open, forcing you alive
then, maybe then, you will have an emotion,
worthy of expression into art.
but dont get mad at me, angry or hurt
You may just use a curse word
Copyright © Michael Harman | Year Posted 2009
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