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.
Copyright © Chuck Keys | Year Posted 2010
Set upon the new world stage within the burning fires of hell. Silently posed factions of the elite, suppress the true inherit of Mother Earth. The meek children bending over for millennium, taken spankings of bare bottoms, pelted slavery.
Upon entry to rule, the open stage of smoked mirrors began to reflect back upon the podium of lies. Taught by scholars from university books of political science. Fearful of leadership matching mirrored images, of false pretense, babbling rhetoric. The stirring masses of discontented, individualistic, thought of as dead - enders, trouble makers, and rebel rousers, rallied aimlessly.
With super hero, Captain Do Gooder, bleeding helpless on the floor of Wall Street. Weary lost hope combatants mustered courage, and accepted destiny. To this point, someone shouted against the wind of change. Felt by all who sensed the importance.
"To death do us part of the purpose to which we, the united, stand for justice".
The chant began, as Captain Do Gooder was dragged away, and cuffed, once bleeding helpless on the floor of Wall Street.
Damn the torpedoes. Damn the torpedoes.
Captain Do Gooder, fallen, bruised ego matching skinned knees, lays helpless. Who will save them now.
Second glances from high rise penthouses. Serving champagne and caviar. Brought iron clenched hands once hidden, to draw the stage curtain down.
With Captain Do Gooder nowhere to be found. The voice that came from pain of pupil. Born within broken dreams of promised lands. Realized nothing was coming cheap on this occupation.
The dusty streets found Captain Do Gooder aimlessly stepping against the winds of change, down Wall Street. The well-intentioned, arrested and broken spirited, lost hope of recycling any salvage rights taken from them by Metro.
Was this the end of the well thought out, pushed down occupation.
Was this the beginning, of the underground faction. Where was senior generation X hiding. Only Captain Do Gooder and the well-intentioned, world stage occupiers, hold the key to that Pandora's box of hope.
The peoples across the oceans were already springing far ahead in their own, more brutal campaign. For they had no cushion on which they were raised to kneel against. Tyranny ran over them. A lesson yet not felt, or learnt, or taught, in the new world. No chance of city mayors issuing eviction notices. Bullets, tanks and bombs were of the order. Brought down the line, traced back to the ones our United Nations to this day, refuse to acknowledge.
While leaders there home internet shop, and pump out the lies. Everyone dies.
In the heart of the continent of center, where unto which as mankind sprang forth, for its first and ever conquest.
The lights kept dim, to obscure the violent cleansing. A facade to disguise once moreover, the brutal tyranny for which the greed of the elite, control the dimmer switch. Diamonds and oil fuel the fire of war and oppression, on this stage of greed and guilt. Too far away, and too many distractions upon center stage for one to see or care. Thought and looked upon by most as racially motivated. The origins of all mankind, to be left, far too far, behind. The true forsaken people. Why is man unkind.
So..........will Captain Do Gooder raise the bar to which drinks for the house, and all around, will quench the thirst felt by ninety nine percent of the people............mother knows best.
Yet, still, self-inflicted roadblocks of appointed destiny, drop kicked long days past. Faint light shining far ahead, within the tunnel of hell, brought up to land. Firm above the depths to which it sprang. The truth of world order.
Wait......what do we see......do our closed eyes deceive our cries........................................
We see Captain Do Gooder catching second wind.
She breathes deep now and all can hear her war cry, no longer whimpering softly. As in past tense situations, given way to dazed and confused wall street *****es.
She builds momentum, as our brothers and sisters lay dying and bleeding. On the streets of some not so distant for telling, of what's to be, will never not be coming full steam ahead and plowing through the hidden agenda. One step beyond the line drawn in the sand of time, we thought would never be crossed. Give way thoughtless future tellers, and takers. Still holding firm with paper cuts, deep into the hands who printed and prepared such slave papers, kept by the elite bankers.
Captain Do Gooder returns renewed and refreshed. Our true Mother.
Captain Do Gooder feels strong, as bruised knees and scraped hands heal.
Brush of destiny sweepstakes, allots winnings of earth shaking, volcano erupting, tsunami tidal waves, with bonus draws of worldwide chaos. Future draws are to be held with worldwide winners. Grand prize, dead oceans rising.
The next generation have no fear digest writes the next chapter.
Hold the press down firmly wall street backbiting backbenchers. Drawn into the crossfire, on her mark, place the x on the next general who dares not fall into civil disobedience.
Captain Do Gooder has grown teeth, and she is biting down hard against the line to pipe riches, spoiled from her lands. Stolen from the first pilgrimage, fifteen thousand years old, lost empire.
How dare you steal from, and pollute the minds of her children. Yet old enough to drink and drug and die in war. How dare all of us.
Meanwhile back at the ranch. Captain Do Gooder hugs tight that tree of life, to which sprang all this elbow rubbing and diversion. Wall street huddles in her corner, painted red to match the lengths to which an end will surely bring to it.
Painted red for all to see.
The end to friendly letter writing, give peace a chance, make love not war, generation taking a bow, and snow birding it, to false sense of security land. Like the ostrich with its head in the sand.
Copyright © Scott Howard Myers The Gypsy King | Year Posted 2013
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.
Copyright © Vince Suzadail Jr. | Year Posted 2007
The Color Missing
Red, black, and blue are the colors of our work pens. Red is the color of the blood we spill on other people’s mistakes. Blue is the color of the songs we sing on tax forms or pay stubs- every page has a secret melody. Black is the color of the streets we fear most. Black is the color of our signature of approval. Black is the color of our death.
‘But what about the Green pens?’ I ask. They say ‘the ink is too hard to see.’
Copyright © Jacob Reinhardt | Year Posted 2013
A void of Facebook
Creativity dies here...
Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013
The traveler reeked of weariness,
His companion was Fatigue
Wear upon his clothes suggest
He'd come a million league.
Gaunt were eyes deep set and brown
Above his cheekbones high
His being was pure somnolence
And I heard his silent cry.
Hard roads had been his travel
The pains chiseled on his face
In lines of furrows on his brow
Around I saw no motion there, then ...
His head began to rise
Finally he looked at me ...
Suffering in his eyes.
So quietly I attended
And with a heavy heart
I wanted so to speak to him ...
But knew not how to start
Within his labored breathing
He then began to speak
His words, when finally spoken
Were truthful and unique
His lips worked to form the words -
Then said; "My name is: Common Man,
I'm a father; I've worked hard;
' always done the best I can.
"The road's become uphill and steep with
Burdens I can't propel
I've tried to move on forward -
But, I stumbled here - and fell.
"There are others on me
Who so do depend
I must move on forward,
This mustn't be my end.
"Now I must reach out to you
'Cause before I've never failed
I'm turning now to you
'Fore on hardships I'm impaled".
A calloused hand then extended
Toward my outstretched hand
And I want to heed the call
For this Common Man.
But, Greed and Avarice have won
And assistance can't be lent -
Wall Street, you see, owns me now:
I'm Your Government.
Copyright © Jack Clark | Year Posted 2014
When you take a pile of cow dung
And try to make it sweet
Then shove it down the people’s throat
Tell them they must eat
You’ve screwed up everything you’ve touched
So why should we trust you now
If we put our healthcare in your hands
You’ll screw that up too somehow.
You’ve stripped social security
You’ve destroyed the U.S. Mail
If you touch our freakin’ healthcare
I am sure that you will fail
To try and tell us it’s for our own good
There really is no need
Not coming from politicians
Drunken bums, full of s—t and greed
Copyright © Vince Suzadail Jr. | Year Posted 2010
A nation of peace,a nation of pride
A nation that's spread far and wide.
A nation of hope,a nation of joy,
Thats free for all, man,women ,girl and boy.
A nation to give,a nation to take
A nation filled with reggae,socca,calypso and rake and scrape.
A nation of colors; black,gold,aqua....sometimes called blue
can be seen everywhere above land and under sea too.
A nation of democracy and old english style,but things sure have changed if you
look up our file.
From outside rock stoves,to TV,radio,computers and wi-fi connectivity.........
I'd say that a long way from July 10 1973.
An nation filled with hospitality,love and history,
Arawaks,Caribs and American Indians are the basis of our nationality.
A nation where Tourism is number one, because of the Bounty of sand sea and sun.
Yes,a nation of Youth,sports ,culture,uniqueness and island fashion trends,
Like native Androsia our own local blend......and straw work and junkanoo,the list has no end.
This nation of beauty,splendor and self defense ;yes its celebarting its own INDEPENDENCE.
Copyright © Quentin Sands | Year Posted 2008
Medical they proposed to be
Arnold Schwarzenegger and me
Relentless advertising - negativity
Individual battles - the Ebay girl - a possibility
Judging seventy-two year old's virility
Under cover all some political pot heads
Another election seeing thin, colorful threads
No one's thinking clear, a foggy way to go
Andele, Andele, - Arnold and I will end up in Mexico...
for Carolyn Devonshire's Contest "Election Humor"
The California Proposal of Legalizing Marijuana did not pass... :)
Election results for Governor of CA: Meg Whitman (R) (former CEO of Ebay vs Jerri Brown - 72 (D) He won.
ándele excl (Méx) (=¡venga!) come on!, hurry up!
Copyright © iolanda Scripca | Year Posted 2010
THE CITY AND THE STATE OF PLAY TODAY
No one worries about morals today
They follow the rules they create
So to them all is ok
Those on the outside looking in
Are the only ones feeling queasy
As avarice and selfishness triumphs
Good corporate citizens they claim to be
Industry awards abound on their walls
As thank you tokens from themselves
Yet society harbours a lot of ill-will
As it feels the often brute force of
And destroy mentality
Of people only wishing to make money
Any which way
While Using up all of society’s communal resources
The waters are forever bloody as they
Know no fraternity and would gladly
Cannibalize anyone with no influence
The ability to upend competitors
A cherished characteristic
In a bullish machismo drenched environment
Bullet proof psyches
Absorb and repel any pangs
Blocking any regulatory or chattering classes’
Attempt at nirvana and equality
They employ better paid lobbyist
So always have the upper hand
In influencing policy
The gravitational attraction of money
Towards another even bigger pot of money
Numbs any cautionary instinct
That would take a long term view
The thrill of instant riches
Overpowers common sense
And even decency
Fat cats they all wish to be
The slickness of glossy tongued lobbyist
Who spin wrongs till they become rights
Embolden oestrogen low males with no inbuilt brakes
To take risks that eventually cost them disgrace
They are champions of graft not of society
Loopholes in legislation
That were built in by too friendly politicians
Coupled with ambiguous suits and claims
Cause far reaching hardship when the good old days are long gone
The villains only muster some phantom national pride
When begging for a lighter sentence
Some are forgiven
Others fatally wounded by an unforgiving public
Lots of money can be made both legally and illegally
As one racket is closed another materialises instantly
The conveyor belt of dishonesty
Who is not David to the goliath that is money
The ethos is wealth
The acquisition and the maintaining of gains
Not often acquired through hard work
There is no limit of acceptable financial comfort
For the millionaire always wants to be a billionaire
And the mega rich super rich
Money must always be hidden from the taxman
Shareholders want tax free dividends
Investors want tax breaks for buying with other people’s money
Infrastructure and new runways must be built
But not from the pocket of those who wish it
With their hands outstretched
And always wanting more and more
From a government too eager to please
We have a tax system geared to the advantage of party donors
And non-domiciled moguls and tycoons
Who know no philanthropy unless it is tax efficient
Disadvantaging society by
Never paying their fair and moral share
The largess they reap so selfishly
They wish not to share
Wages are low
Taxes are nil
Only the investor wins as we pay his bills
Fast paced expansionist dogma
Is preached within city limits
Only the highest paid
The biggest company
The greatest profits
They are held up as ideals that all who
Wish to succeed must follow
Gunslingers they all appear to be
Rushing in to capitalize on the wanton success of their peers
The cloud of misery left behind
Is never seen for the look forward
Hindsight is never welcomed in this parasitic environment
The political will to weed out these reckless demons
Is lukewarm at best
The revolving door of government creating opportunities
For industry and industry gratefully accepting politicians post government
Ensures that self-interest is king
An economy built on flawed assumptions of wealth creation
Is one that must forever be in hyper-drive
Creating ever expanding demand and supply
That is as real as a thief’s conscience
When taking the rings off a dead persons fingers
Money must always be made for
There is no alternative
Wealth is good
Poverty to them is laziness
The city is not the heart and soul
Of the nation
It is but one player in a system skewed in its favour
We all must share in the wealth of this country
To ensure its longevity
Copyright © evrod samuel | Year Posted 2013
There was a time in America, when the Bible
was taught in the schools.
The ten commandments were displayed, as “God’s set of rules.”
There was a time in America, where the
cross could be displayed.
Even in public places, people came together and prayed.
There was a time in America,
there was no “church and state” separation.
As people all across this country asked God to help this nation.
There was a time in America, where
people knew right from wrong.
You could see it in the way they lived, and could here it in their song.
There was a time in America where one
was proud to be a Christian.
One could take stand for holiness,
without coming under “suspicion.”
There was a time in America, when
mom and dad were together…
Now, any kind of a commitment to marriage seems lost forever
There was a time in America, where many were proud of “tradition.”
There seems to be a lack of any kind of “spiritual nutrition.”
There was a time in America, where so many could proudly say;
“I’m going to read the bible and go to church on Sunday.”
This is the time for America, to wake
up and try to understand.
We need to seek God right now! All over this land!
This is the time for America, to listen and begin to hear…
The coming of our Lord is drawing ever so near!
NOW is the time to seek the Lord, while he may be found!
The word of God needs to be read in every city and town!
Won’t you too seek God and listen to his voice today?
Simply give him your heart and life… This could be YOUR day!
By Jim Pemberton
Copyright © Jim Pemberton | Year Posted 2012
Music is my high,
Soda is my drink.
Sugar is my ecstacy,
Laughter is my drunkeness.
Anime is my anti-drug,
Strobe lighting is my LSD.
Dreaming is my hallucinogen.
Imagination is as psychedelic as I can get.
Being with family is when I'm as relieved as I can get.
Happiness is as sober as I can get.
Masturbation is as stimulated as I can get.
Orgasming is when I am as relaxed as I can get.
Poetry is my coping,
Art is my creative outlet.
Writing is my addiction,
Reading is my inhalation.
Exercise is my steroid,
Food is my shrooms,
Cooking is my sniff.
Gaming is as tripped out as I can get.
Being with friends is when I'm as hyped as I can get.
Depression is as down as I can get.
Inner strength is as strong as I can be addicted.
Internet browsing is as stoned as I can get.
Dancing is my adrenaline,
Overtiredness is my hangover.
Cake mix is my acid,
Sparkling juice is my booze.
Soberity is my perspective,
Shopping is my drug-dealing.
Healthy as can be, drugs not for me.
Copyright © M.P. Faries | Year Posted 2012
They came from "farawayland"
to arms held open wide
welcomed without question by the "Man"
The starving and the homeless
can't begin to understand this
how could someone even do this to their clan
We try to feed and clothe them
give health and shelter freely
and we're just talking legal citizens
The influx of the immmigrants
and the millions of illegals
that have crossed our borders who knows even when
There are no jobs to give them
our health care's straining badly
some diseases that they bring could devastate
They try their best to hide here
while staying in the shadows
by scamming us they jeopardize our fate
Bleeding hearts help hide them
treated better than our Veterans
they snicker and they tell us that we're cruel
As our President stands proudly
ensuring he will protect them
America knows he plays us for the fool.....
Copyright © Pete Yuhas | Year Posted 2016
Infuriated by greed
so we Occupy city streets
tired of being lied to
divided by tyranny
of the Elites
sickened by offshore banks
ran by gangs
known as the Fed
while political infidelity
shakes the White House bed
What happened to the basic foundations
for which this nation was built?
maybe the people’s aggravations
will identify our leaders’ guilt
No justice lies within this
“heads they win; tails we lose”
so now we take a stand
against their scam
because we’re through with the abuse
Copyright © JSLambert Mister ROBOTO | Year Posted 2011
I do not know?
1 Billion Rising.
For Men Everywhere.
Stop! Listen! Think! Act!
Stop the abuse!
Listen to the voices!
Think of how you treat,
Act now to change yourself!
Stop! Listen! Think! Act!
stops when you stop,
Stop! Listen! Think! Act!
is perpetrated by,
Stop! Listen! Think! Act!
stops when us men stop,
Stop! Listen! Think! Act!
Copyright © Scribbler Of Verses | Year Posted 2013
I came upon a tribe one day
in a land not far away
where everyone gets what they need
from juices of an orange seed
Some who drank the juice had died
and so the tribe felt satisfied
that they had weeded out the weak
with the help of orange seed
Some fell asleep the whole day long
for orange juice was very strong
and never felt an ounce of pain
with not a care to cross the brain
But others would feel more awake
with every little drop they’d take
They’d run and dance and twitch and shake
and never need to take a break
Still others would get sick and green
like a flu they’d never seen
The only really certain cure
was “Never touch the juice no more”
For some, the drug would change their mood
to dumb and brutal, cruel and rude
But even those would find their use
in the tribe of orange juice
Of course, a few got very wise
had visions right before their eyes
Surely, God chose them to lead
with blessings from the orange seed
So anyone made dull and tired
were rounded up and all required
to work all day or face the noose
and never touch the orange juice
But those the seed would energize
were thereby made to supervise
the work so tedious and tough
while sipping on the orange stuff
And those for whom the seed caused harm,
were duly trained to run the farm
All day to sneeze and cough non-stop
yet trusted with the precious crop
And anyone turned cruel, it’s true
got plenty of the orange brew
you could guess what jobs they do
and who they really answer to
Not leaders who hallucinate
that everything is going great
nor all the rest who get their dose
(except the ones that need it most)
Not any man or myth or god
nor any beast of sea or sod
but just a noxious little weed
with a toxic little orange seed
There may be some as I suspect
for whom the seed has no effect
I doubt that they’re allowed to stay
they wouldn’t want to anyway
Copyright © Art Wright | Year Posted 2013
It amazes me how much man has evolved
Yet, How little he has learned
All around the globe
Millions die of disease and starvation
While the ever so intelligent creature known as man
Spends millions upon millions of dollars every single day
Killing each other
Instead of finding cures for the ill or feeding starving children
Oh sure, we dabble in those efforts
But we are committed to killing each other
Governments all around the globe
Spend most of their money
On their armies
Either to defend or attack
Supposedly, the most intelligent creature on earth
The intellectual creature known as man
If I may go so far
Mans commitment to war and killing
Goes far beyond any one mans term in office
It goes far beyond any one mans lifetime
It goes far beyond any century or any one era
From beginning to end, top to bottom
East to west, north to south
Red, yellow, brown, black or white
Our commitment to killing each other
How can a species that is smart enough to split atoms
Creating weapons that will kill millions
Still be stupid enough to do it?
And now I see on the science channel
That man has now devised the Platonic beam
A beam of light that just disintegrates the target in an instant
At what price you ask?
Well I don’t know but I reckon if we diverted that money
To say solar energy projects
They could probably put a solar energy system
On every home in the world for free
Thus solving the energy crisis
Not to mention food in the icebox and medicine in the cabinet
Because of course when you create such an amazing new weapon
You need an entire new type of ship to deploy it from
Thus is born the next generation of war birds
They jettison into space
Then go into super afterburner (A jet engine minus oxygen)
Which they said would reach like 20,000 miles an hour
So you could shoot halfway around the world
Disintegrate your enemy
And be home in time for supper
I believe when speaking of politics
It’s not a National Crisis
It’s a Global Epidemic
Copyright © Michael Jordan | Year Posted 2008
Will liberty ring out again,
beneath the cries of human rights
can freedom's name survive,
dissembling and lies;
Will duty from its prison flee
throw off its shackled memory,
is respect just a word,
spoken,but never heard:
How long,how long 'til I becomes thee ?
when ,when, will ego bend the knee,
the victim is not me
my friend,my friend,it's we.
Who rings this bell of liberty
truly sounds,our culture's death knell.
Copyright © Brian Strand | Year Posted 2010
why are our tax dollars being spent on crippled
and paralyzed drug hoods?
why are we supporting teenage girl having babies
and not trying to do any good?
how Is It possible for foreigners
to get supplemental security income?
and where Is all the money supposedly coming from?
yet, when we the American citizens
who have worked and struggled all our lives
attempt to get any assistance from the government
we only get a lot of bull and some jive
what in the world could the politicians
have been thinking about?
when we have families right here in America
having to do without
Is It political policy
over social responsibility?
the American Government aspires
to be the world's police force
by deploying our young men and women into war zones
without any recourse
but who Is to blame for making all these
life altering decisions?
It's not those who don't vote
for they have no voice nor position
now Is the time for all Americans
to step up to the plate
make your voice and choice be known
before It's too late
we need to stop this madness
and unnecessary spending
call the politicians on to the carpet
and bring about some ending
Is It political corruption
versus social reconstruction?
so just get out and vote
and make your choice be known
put who you want in positions of power
with ideals like your own
It's time to take a stance
and get back our power
be more socially and politically conscious
at the voting hour
Copyright © louise nelson | Year Posted 2007
All we need a leader
Guide us become one of us
Make us sincere against any killing
Protects our family to live our destiny
All we need a world leader one of us making in one piece
Making it boiling it
Be part of it
In taming is music to our ears
Every morning sliding our badges
Making our leaving gone in sinful slips
Only hope rests pray our best
Every morning sinking reality
Surge become more innovative
Making us in a pot all sincere
All we need a commitment in changing rules
Where money plays reigns in market
To adapt them after turns our sake
It may be time to think learn to leave as one piece
Copyright © reyhan yucebay | Year Posted 2009
Like a warm cotton bud used to give inner ears a clean
there is something comforting about routine.
Knowing where you stand and the order of play,
knowing what to expect at every point in your day.
Living to a schedule, everything has it’s time and place -
knowing the slots you have free for any plans you need to make.
Wardrobe colour-coded, in garment order.
Wallpaper with a matching border.
Appointments at ten to, five to, on the dot.
Check, double-check, the doors are locked.
Yellow ball, green ball then pot the brown.
Big box, little box, upside down.
I like to gaze into the sky and dream, of an afternoon.
Relaxing. Like the scent of a chaste tree, when in bloom.
A cold glass of lemonade, a long and foamy bath,
humming along to the radio, a love that warms the heart.
Reading the Sunday paper, and making it an event,
the delightful things the kids say, things only they could invent.
His reputation precedes him: a disruptive, class clown.
Never completes his work, he’s always mucking around.
A big-mouth, show-off with far too much to say:
He asks if I ever considered teaching him in a different way.
‘A physical learner’ - he’s heard about it on the news.
There could be something in it…but I’ve far too much to do.
Cars whiz about, people in a hurry.
“I’ve waited over an hour for my curry.”
Twenty four seven lifestyle, word abbreviation.
Text message becoming the preferred means of communication.
Everybody rushing, to keep on schedule, to maintain status quo.
Everyone a cog in the system: You’re whipped, if you don’t row.
Seamless is the transition between asleep and awake,
when you just let it happen, not worry about being late.
An unrushed project results in a rewarding prize:
taking your time meant you got it right.
So bin the itinerary, flout the rules,
just for once why don‘t you try something new?
Copyright © Lee Price | Year Posted 2007
Is the USA Discriminating Against God?
Across this country, is a new form of “elimination.”
It’s almost like there’s a “God discrimination.”
In the court’s efforts to remove him
from our schools…
It’s almost like “just about anything” rules!
Many get concerned that the cross may be “offensive.”
Thereby causing many churches to be “defensive.”
It seems like godly morals are a thing of the past.
This country is going downhill! And very fast!
Traditional marriage has even been torn asunder!
So much of the biblical truth has been plundered!
Those defending their faith are
labeled as “anti this or that.”
Just look at the crossroads this country is coming at!
If I serve God… Do these words often seem “inflammatory?”
Is it God himself, that's
Do the words; “In God we trust,” mean anything?
Without a Godly foundation,
America has lost EVERYTHING!
God gave us the Bible. We need this for proper direction.
The courts in our land cannot give truthful interpretations!
The Constitution or the Bible… Which will set us free?
Which actually gives an individual freedom and liberty?
We need God. Like we’ve never needed him before!
We need his love and forgiveness all across our shores!
He invites you to come and know him… Won’t you?
He is the Lord God. He will never disappoint you!
By Jim Pemberton
Copyright © Jim Pemberton | Year Posted 2014
A time for golfing after the crime
Crime committed but do no time
American justice is that what you call it
When guilt is determined by the size of your wallet
The government doesn't care if it's not fair
As long as they get their fair share
If Capone had paid his taxes long ago
He would have been Mayor of Chicago
If you have the cash, judges sit in awe
And put your actions above the law
A push for gun control is really hot
So their friends, the criminals, won't get shot
Hail the defendant, put his name in lights
Deny the victim his civil rights
For child molesters we need to change course
I would recommend a vigilante force
We can't fix organized crime and that's a sin
It's our own fault because we voted them in
American justice will never be the best
Until we enforce the laws like they did in the Old West.
Copyright © Vince Suzadail Jr. | Year Posted 2007
I do not know?
O strike thy wisdom
and thy freedom;
While picket signs aren't weapons,
they arouse violent hymns
and bayonet dreams;
Where authoritarian presidents,
governors and dictators
all think alike,
and strike thee common good.
with karma on their side,
where echoes fly like angels
and their halos shine so bright;
Where slavery's not an option
and poverty no life,
Where no act of violence,
aimed at stifling true justice
always voices it's complaints,
always finds some other means,
never ends with the moon
but starts with the sun,
Fore there's no future otherwise.
Copyright © Michael Benkhen | Year Posted 2011
In pleasantries, orchestrated on our screens,
We live the lives of many men and women,
As if sex could be! We grow, composed of well-cooked pablum
Eaten between long work hours, digested pleasantly.
In a fetal coil, I rest, my optic eye
Doesn’t blink at the silver reticules of my mind:
My body well knit by well-knit engineers,
This me-model makes real tears, running from my eyes.
Of course I’m human – hammered out in school,
Wearing what Designers Club tells me to;
You and I, we can adjust ourselves with tools,
Look down upon the Primitives -- those old fools.
Insulated from all microbial bio-terrors,
Safe from the brute, the thorn, the flawed flower
Blooming wild; we -- kept safe – know no variant weather,
Pity the Primitive, exposed to flood and laser-tower.
Did you see those messages, scrawled upon a wall,
Comparing us with vipers at Adam’s Fall?
There’s not an original thought in what he thinks:
That purist Primitive! His raw flesh stinks!
Computers say it best, and yet, I see
Something –compelling--- in his graffiti:
“O song, sing forth unto the endless skies--
O hear, created stars! You long have looked
Upon all who weep, who ever made outcry,
And wrote it down, in God’s forgotten book.”
written for those in the future--a protest against genetic engineering
Copyright © Judyth Vary Baker | Year Posted 2009
In general, society as a whole
Each has a good heart, Each has a good soul
It is the government that changes the poll
They don’t want acceptance, they want control
They fuel the fire of discontent
Change the message that is sent
Teach us on each other we can vent
Lie to the people they represent
They wish to control what we eat and drink
They wish to control the way we think
They build us up to watch us sink
Keeping our emotions at the brink
They endorse the hatred, they endorse the fights
They manipulate our civil rights
On our real leaders they set their sights
Stopping those who would take us to greater heights
Think for yourself, they can’t control you
They can’t control what you say or do
If you believe their lies, you’ll become their robots too
Let freedom ring for all, not just for a few
Love for your neighbor is what history demands
It will take the control out of their hands
There will be peace and joy in all of the lands
They will no longer control with their commands.
Copyright © Vince Suzadail Jr. | Year Posted 2009
family..duties..left to die,
fixated on symptoms society still wonders why !
Copyright © Brian Strand | Year Posted 2009
Woman, discarded remnant of Adam?
Fe-male, not to be given her own name;
her own identity, other than, a part?
Receptacles, empty bowls, hollow holes,
to be filled only with necessary roles?
Necessary for man.
Primero uno, cock of the walk,
strutting, scratching, with his third leg dangling.
Womb man, so they, the male God’s called her.
Earth Mother, heroine, holder of hearts and hands,
no man, nomad, nurturer of new life;
from the warm, wet, darkness to the Light.
Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2009
I met a Sheriff the other day.
Just teasing, I happened to say.
I am stopping by to pay my taxes.
Giving you my money before axes,
He said to me, “I get none of that money“.
I looked up in surprise, and thought, how funny.
He and many others forget our taxes pay salaries.
They work for us and their duties are in galleries.
Without working people to pay taxes, they would not be.
They forget these things after office acquired you see.
They pump us up upon the Election Day’s arrival.
Reinstatement in public office is part of survival.
We the people pay for their cars, meals, homes, indeed.
Our money than dispatched into the funds that do seed,
Without the people paying taxes, their jobs would recede.
We the people elect and pay wages, so justice will proceed.
However, many law officials take rules made for all.
Bending them to fit their need, in name of the law,
I have the utmost respect for officers on patrol.
They need to be cautious, to keep crime under control.
However, to break any law, for no reason at all, indeed.
Makes justice suffer, two wrongs make a misdeed,
Their pledge, for no reason at all to break their creed,
Serve and protect, without wrongdoing, as agreed.
An oath, I know they all take and so easily forget after.
Some upon that tomorrow, just ease back in laughter.
Copyright © cecil hickman | Year Posted 2010
We need to send a message for Washington to hear
We need to make a statement and make it loud and clear
Leave rigs double parked in every town
Come on truckers. Shut it down
Block the highways. Set your course.
Show our politicians a united force
Politicians! While you're kissing babies remember this
We've got something you can kiss
We wanted a leader. We got a clown.
So let's go truckers. Shut it down.
It is time to start sending a message to our OPEC owned and
operated congresss. If you can't stop the oil gougiing prices, we can stop the
entire country. What happens if the last of the American cowboys, the truck
drivers, unite? If they double park their rigs on the interstates all over the country,
unhook them and leave them there? These guys are getting shafted by the same
people who subsidize airlines so the executives can milk the living hell out of it.
Meanwhile, not only the independent, but any small trucking company can't afford
to stay in business. It is time to shut it down
Copyright © Vince Suzadail Jr. | Year Posted 2008