They were Meriwether Lewis and William Clark,
Her name was Sacagawea.
On an expedition they did embark
Finding the passage to the sea.
Down the Missouri they traveled,
Then slithered 'round the Snake River bend.
Rocky Mountain weather and sickness battled;
At the Columbia River they'd end.
©2013 Honestly JT
Copyright © Honestly J.T. | Year Posted 2013
Which nation of the world
Do I belong?
I belong to the nation
And freedom for all.
I belong to the nation
Proletariat and aristocracy
Disabled and abled
Woman and man
Young and old
Black and colored
People and nation
Right and rule...
I belong to the nation of peace
Across the land, the sea and the sky.
And peaceful stretch to the arboreal.
And Peace of souls,
Is my strength-
The rhythm that keeps me growing.
Though I was born a Nigerian.
Not I neglects being call
American, Ghanaian, Portuguese
Chinese, Korean, Indian...
Though I'm by virtue
Of land mass
Not do I dismiss
In unison unit
That type me Asian,
I belong to
Copyright © Abdulhafeez Oyewole | Year Posted 2013
urban leaves turned
Autumn, sniffing around
for a place to settle
no Farmer's Market
in San Francisco today.
Copyright © Jen Franks | Year Posted 2013
Alas there is no more confusion,
finally found my last conclusion.
Expect me as if Jesus will return,
from a ghost to a realm of concern.
Your dreams are portals like doors,
welcoming spirits into hasten wars.
Leaving the thoughts without trust,
keeping your fears in much disgust.
And though you sought no consequence,
deeds that confirm a wicked malevolence.
Awaiting in your nightmare of screams,
enjoy what is left amongst your dreams.
Copyright © Eternal Victor | Year Posted 2013
The Great Plains
Vast expanse of land,
Virginal, pure, and yet shaped by man’s hands,
A rich and lustrous corn carpet,
An open land with distant horizon
Where man’s green fields and nature’s blue sky meet
Cows and deer fearlessly frolic
On man’s earth, bucolic
With the long spidery electrical wires,
The tall water sprinkler towers
That the cornfield requires
Lone truckers headed to distant cities,
With microwaves, shoes, juice boxes, and other nitty-gritties
Loaded with goods of everyday need,
Unable to ignore this picture painted by man
Cruising at a ginger speed
In this isolation, man’s cares are forgotten,
He abandons his city life rotten
Incredible peace gently seeps,
The deep, satisfying solitude
For an eternity in his mind he keeps
He will again roam the vast land with a new sense of freedom,
Re-live his life as sacred
Such are the magnanimous Great Plains of this wondrous land,
Which bring tears to my eyes
Dumbstruck, on this land of numerous possibilities I stand.
Inspired by a cross-country Amtrak trip from New York City to Kingman, AZ
Copyright © Ritu Saheb | Year Posted 2016
The rolling hills so green and tender
Mountains on high i will always remember
Colours of the seasons so fresh in my mind
All of the beauty so easy to find
This is England,the country i live
The country i would die for,the country i love
The fields the forest the mountain stream
The hills the dales the lakes agleam
Scent of summer so strong on the breeze
My land of beauty thats so hard to leave
This is England the country i adore
Home of truth,faith,hope much more
And if the time comes then leave it i shall
To a foreign country an unknown land
Where the thoughts of England will always remain
In Gods own country ,Gods domain
Copyright © dennis curry | Year Posted 2012
What is it to see the soil of home again?
A welcome, snow-struck and a return
To cold; sharp white contrasts sunburn.
We converse in broken tongues to men
We know, hooked on holiday language
Comprised of wandering hand signs.
Collect the car and pay parking fines,
Drive through towns and over a bridge
Until we reach the Western gateway.
Oh when will we arrive at our house?
No camels there, only field mouse
Which are eaten by our cat anyway.
The plane flies for an age, slyly yawning
Through the stretching, pealing sky,
A knife through air; what it is to fly.
Our travels over; a new day is dawning.
Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013
O, dear Indus,the witness of millenniums’
History, traditions and culture
You feed us with your sweet water
And in your lap you us nurture
You might be a mighty channel
Of flowing water for the world
On your course with water southward
Moving, marching, whirled
But of cousre for our nation
No doubt You are, but the life
which quenches our thirst, and
Grows for us grain in rife
You, dear Indus,like our mother
And of course our culture’s cradle
You feed us with all your love
With your sweet water by a ladle
You, in the length and breath
Of our dear motherland
Make our life so lofty,
And make our living grand
The originator of the culture
Of the ancient Indus Valley
Begin for us form Monserver
And keep on your untiring sally
Through mountains and forests
And over the vast plains
And stretch across the valley
Through your countless veins
That infuse life in us all
And teach us not to give up
Through your untiring efforts
We learn how to live up
You witness of valiant accounts
Of gallant sons and daughters
Tell us to continue and carry on
With your sally of waving waters
With your water pure you nourish
Not only our bodies but our souls
And make us strong, determined
To get whatever we set our goals
Yes you are, but our beingness
Land without you for us sear !
You are great and strong and,
For you we live, you for us, dear !
Copyright © Zulfiqar Ali Bhatti | Year Posted 2016
The illusioned glass reflects the lucent moon
Lunacy descends upon the mountain wolves
Autumn's awe inspires the lucid minds
Transgressions and acts of illicit kinds
Verdant meadows bejeweled with strings of dews
Tornado trembles the naked trees
The hooting owls an omen bring.
The water snakes leave behind their lace skins
A wealth of childrenfolks' imagining
The indelible ink of my
Motherland tattoes my physche
The whistling grass echoes
For me, she calls.
Copyright © YASEMIN BALANDI | Year Posted 2016
De Rerum Natura (On The Nature Of Things)
What end, our patience,
Of those who know not?
Shame on those,
Who speak without thought.
Gallant souls tend to be,
Mediators for good.
Written documents for proof,
Doing what honorably people should.
No common good is found,
Some try to dominate.
No justice, it is wrong,
Please, please, we cannot wait.
What power came to them,
Why are they so cruel?
The burning pain in my heart,
I feel such a fool.
Please read our constitution,
It is a road map for good.
Defend it unto death,
You promised that you would.
Every nation has its rulers,
Character guides their way.
In America people have the power,
Elected ones have gone astray.
Liberty demands a dwelling place,
Our founders made it so.
Tyrants control our government,
It is time for them to go.
The pride of wealth,
Determines now who lead.
The masters of law and the courts,
Make our people bleed.
RAYMOND V. MORGAN
Copyright © Raymond Morgan | Year Posted 2015
I'm the sentient of individuality,
the warrior of my path,
free from anything claiming power,
that laughs at social wrath,
that walks with firm ability,,
I'm the control at present,
that nothing steers for me,
the navigator twards sole horizons,
free destinations I independently see,
honor of my life's intent,,
Sole creators of this choice,
that others look to see,
that leads with independent indifference,
knowing that it's not free,
leading with the strongest voice,,
This independence the hardest road,
but worth it above all,
knowledge of this gained wisdom,
you'll rise above the call,
power of one so bold,,
The ancestors of ancient past,
knew this all too well,
always striving twards independent light,
staring down faces of hell,
true spirits that will outlast.
Copyright © S.K. Y. | Year Posted 2013
Paul Tillich wrote
"nationalism hates and must always hate Judaism and prophetic Christianity."
When he spoke of nationalistic patriotism
he was thinking of fascism,
as the logical conclusion
of those more loyal to a specific supremacist space and time
than faithful to our more inclusively holonic creolization history
of a bicamerally regenerative species.
Nationalism too quickly devolves into idolatry of WinLose zero-sum gamesmanship,
elitist triumphalism as narrow-minded Chosen People
rather than WinWin nonzero-sum co-redemptive economists
of mutual messiahship.
Tillich's 'prophetic' Judeo-Christian
would find U.S. nationalistic 'evangelical' Christians
merely fundamentalist EitherWinOrLose puppets of rabid capitalism
and, in more viral triumphalistic cultish forms,
also explicitly anti-Semitic
and anti-historical-cultural evolution of traditional norms and values,
so anti-anything other than missionary position heterosexual expression.
Rabid 'evangelistic' Christianity
is anything but co-redemptively prophetic.
A messianic Christian evangelist
spreads WinWin good gospel news
through cooperative teaching and listening
and collaborative mentoring
about how we can grow this regenerative species
toward mutual transubstantiating holiness
which seems to have to do with transliterative enculturation skills
and nothing at all to do with lip service
to an "Our Shit Don't Stink" triumphalistic creed.
When non-prophetic 'evangelical' Christians
examined Donald Trump's intentions
as U.S. Presidential potential,
and declared his intentions for the patriotic elite as "pure,"
that meant purely capitalist WinLose nationalism;
saying nothing about the prophetic Judaism
of the all-inclusive loving Gospels.
Christians, Jews, and perhaps especially Islamic-terrified,
and declaim any notion that Republican Nationalist WeWin-SoYouLose ecopolitics
is anything less than anti-Messianic WeWin-OnlyIf YouAlsoWin,
which is co-redemptive,
The democratization of globalizing love
is a huge history of spiritual experience,
communication for regeneration,
regeneration for ecological reconnecting,
again and again and again
Earth's health with anthrocentric 'pure' and 'loyal' wealth.
To call the cult of fundamentalist WinLose nationalistic patriotism
is idolatrous elitism
taking out a promising contract against healthy human nature
to hit absolute zero bulls-eye bottom-line
LoseLose absence of syncretic supremacy,
promise to anti-prophetically gloat about absent-mindedly fiddling
while Earth burns;
declaring our vast anti-all-others absence of hope
for continuing climates of regenerative health
in the face of degenerating climate pathologies.
If you are familiar with the Wharton School,
as is Donald Trump
and his considerable too-glutonous billionaire CEO companions,
then you would probably know
you can slap a lipstick index
on a chauvinistic pig
of an elitist Winner-Take-All national economy,
but it will not really look, or work, any better,
and certainly won't taste any healthier
or more loyal,
or even tangentially patriotic,
in historic prophetic hindsight.
Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck | Year Posted 2017
Some of us are wondering
Do your infinite powers to pardon
whomsoever thou shalt so desire,
Are you not only infallible,
like the Pope,
but also unimpeachable,
waiting for your further divine enlightenment.
With warm regard,
The Village WitchHunter
Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck | Year Posted 2017
I saw you in your poetry
A bunch of orchid baths
in solitary forests
In your writing ...
The odd scent of water drops
in wet nipples of Darjeeling
Fate, I saw youth in your poetry.
Luck ... you did not want
a separate state or country
Nowadays some want to be isolated.
Now you are young.
Go ahead, bathe in a heavy rain
then build resistance to life.
Now is the time of youth in poetry.
I have seen a dream of
a common world.
The water, the ground ...
the sky all together.
I believe in youth, one name of life
Because, I saw youth in your life.
Copyright © Somdev Chattopadhyay | Year Posted 2017