Best Stockholm Poems
a life is a life
there is no grading scale of value
irrespective of
country of origin
or country of residence
or country of destination
a life is a life
we are all children
of God
there is no lesser God
there is no greater God
there is God
the Supreme Being
We are all his children
we call Him by different names
that is to our own shame
He is the same
a life is a life
not man's to take
not man's to torture
not man's to break
a life is a life
the life blood still seeps
into the ground
while we stand by and weep
and still the question echoes
"where is your brother?
where is your sister?
where are the children?
where are the mothers
the fathers?
whose blood is soaking the ground?"
and still we shamelessly bellow:
"Am I my Brother's Keeper?"
and the answer hasn't change
time cannot change it
nor circumstance
"yes"
......"Oh, Yes!"
we are one family
Don't just let it be...
"Who cares!
it's not happening to me!"
Stockholm and Syria
My heart is crying
endless requiem
for those dead and dying
a life is a life is a life...is a life
one day that life will be mine
one day that life will be yours
that life will be taken
taken by force
who places the value on life?
Silence is the breeding ground
where atrocitiesmflourish
"after all, who remembers the Armenians"
Hitler intimated
as the Jews he annihilated
Speak OUT!
a life is a life
death was not meant to be
not for them
not for you
not for me
a life is a life
Eileen Manassian
They believed a Capitol riot could make a loser a winner,
After failing, they cling to changing facts by terror and thunder.
I've cried for you I've lied for you
To this day i'd lay down my life and die for you
You could smile watching me bleed out on the floor, you could hit me in the face and i'd blame it in the door
You are my favorite type of misery the best method of self destruction I've ever had
you are the one I love you are the one I hate
my forever and always
I miss your bones
Colliding into mine
I miss your skin
Leaving marks
on my neck
I miss your knuckles
Bruised as they are
I miss my tears
Cascading
down
my
face
I am
your
heaven
You are
my
hell.
Flesh and blood
forever be
I
miss
you
hurting
me.
They wanted me to get on the stand and testify against Daddy.
I was not about to.
These strangers who wanted to hug me made me sick.
I did not know them; they felt like aliens.
I have nightmares now. I want to go back home.
“He’s not even related to you!” the woman said.
I hate her more now than I did yesterday
Which I did not know was possible.
This is your father, she said, pointing to the weird guy.
I am your mother. He stole you when you were only three.
I jumped when she said this. Her voice scares me.
It is whiny and begging; a stranger’s voice.
He is my DADDY! I screamed at them.
I ran back to the room where they kept me.
Plopped down in the corner and put the blanket over my eyes.
Something caught my eye. A stuffed frog.
Wilbur, I said. Not knowing why.
It was as weird as they were.
I wanted my DADDY.
I hated these strangers.
I am an admitted dreamer
In my youth, I had hoped to see
Stockholm, London, Manchester
Paris, Berlin, and Nice.
I have gazed in awe at postcards
Of these places and its many sights.
Wished to win a trip as reward-
Being there would have been a delight!
Yet now I have read of the tragedies,
Of the violence and terror that plague
The citizens of these lovely countries
My dream coming true is rather vague.
There can never be a justification,
There can never be fearful acceptance,
When killing is used as a valid reason-
Then always it will face resistance!
There can never be any good in terror,
Because people have the right to be free
Be it in Stockholm, London, Manchester
Or Paris, Berlin, and Nice.
Cynthia Buhain-Baello
05.24.17
Don Cody is the main antagonist of the 21 film Girl In The Basement.He is a controlling and cruel father who believes he is right all the time and throws temper tantrums whenever his ego is bruised,or when someone does something he doesn't like,until he is arrested for his crimes of imprisoning his family against their will for two decades.Elisabeth was given a new name following the trial,with strict laws to prevent her identity being revealed.The children,aged between 20 and 34 as of February 2023,reportedly slept in rooms with doors permanently open after undergoing weekly therapy sessions to eliminate the traumas they suffered inside the cellar.Note.Kia Bakchodi film da Don Cody.
I thought I was rescuing all of them,
but now I realize that they are all feline victims of Stockholm Syndrome.
Every night I cry
myself to sleep for I
cannot see the point
in life after you die
My world shattering
all around me
My quivering heart
an amputee
It doesn't matter at all
I'm just waiting for the fall
The Ogre took a body blow,
tumbling to the ground.
He enlisted the forces of government,
the regime he always labeled “deep state.”
Blubbering, he sat there, enlisting Department of Justice lawyers
to deny he was ever hit,
to conceal that he ever fell.
The fight was rigged because he lost.
The punches were illegal and fraudulent.
This became the mantra infecting social discourse.
This emerged as the slogan to incite
his Stockholm syndrome believers.
It started with a handshake,
then a hug, and then a smile;
We’d never even met before,
and still I felt it all the while.
I felt the silence breaking
and the wall start coming down,
and soon I’d trade my aching
for a renaissance fair crown.
We walked around til midnight
in an unfamiliar place,
The city streets in Sweden paled
each time I saw your face.
The turns we took would lead us back
eventually, we knew,
but I was blind to Stockholm
for in Stockholm I met you.
The streetlights lit the way
for all our midnight wandering,
though the night was cold and calm
and though each person’s sondering
would normally call out to me,
for stories there to write,
the only thing I cared for then
was your face’s shining light.
I once thought it was pointless
to wish and hope and dream.
I thought the stars had shone their last;
there were no more, it seemed.
I was misled, I know that now,
for brighter stars I see.
Yet the brightest star is mine,
for in Stockholm he met me.
Afghanistan, South Africa,
Kuwait and Mexico,
Romania and Canada,
(and many more, you know)
I’ve been all over everywhere
and done what there’s to do.
But none compare to Stockholm,
for that’s where I met you.
Science
has brought
us closer
to the edge of our oblivion
Nuclear fission
angel dust
processed foods
and smog
Two steps forward
ten steps back
ennobling every dirty fact
as children choke and cry
There’s one award
the Swede’s leave out
that’s missing
on their dais
The Nobel Prize
for mass destruction
as progress masquerades
— unchecked
(Sweden: May, 2008)