Occupy Poems - Poems about Occupy

Occupy Embellish my surroundings My environment subscribing Sustain my environment Occupied The same with division Asleep through my eyes Occupy As I dream I sleep as my eyes are closed Throughout the night Midnights rest Slumbers crest I rest awaken now I run Standing awaken now I work, I occupy till He comes 8/8/21 Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2021...

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Let none say that I did not try, A tragic bundle here I lie, Through half-closed eyes I recognize, Slim shadowy forms flow by. My scraggy mate lies by my side, Loyal to a comfort I provide, A fremdship that in times reminds, Of yearnings satisfied. Numb to a putrid, stale estate, Numb to my mouldy, urined state, I claim and occupy this space, To compliment...

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The more we focus on what shines inside That has us taking this amazing ride Living life's highest high's To the stars, so we can mystify About our love, we won't let slip by In a place, we can both occupy Where we see the beauty eye to eye Baby, it will never be about saying goodbye You sure know how to make...

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Always find a way to occupy yourself Do not waste precious time Get at it and go with the flow Things will change in the blink of an eye With each day that passes There is something for you to learn Let those lessons teach you So that way you can earn...

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Occupies My Mind Many things in my mind it occupies; Like cries from all of the Trump lies; Constantly worrying, While I am hurrying, And America sure was not very wise. Jim Horn...

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I loose myself - self occupied Inside of me - darkness applied It spread its wings - has me on strings A set of things threaded together I'm not stupid - I'm really clever I'm living now - I'll live forever On a thin cord - I lost my armor I lost my sword, I see...

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Occupy yourself always Keep that brain ticking Enrich your world academically There is always room for learning Edify your mind Make your visions sharper Continue to make progress So you can achieve even further...

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Occupy yourself And exercise your mind Fill your world with knowledge Create your own sunshine Be willing to learn more Continue to get ahead Do not waste precious time Go for that gold instead...

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What makes you think of all the lies laid down Like pavement bricks in poisoned ground Cracked and gray like prison dust; Who makes these rules... Who do you trust..? What makes you think in all our Books of Law Where tiers of privilege rub truth raw Lost freedoms granted the deepest purse Too easily chase a rich man's thrist... Leave the poor to...

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One crystal goblet cloaked in vintage dust Stands silent sentinal to nothing In the middle of a great stone alter Laid to waste by time, and the memory of Man, Who ever was a firm believer... One crystal goblet remains a fruitless legacy. Ancient tongues and politics hear nothing But the echo of the emptiness; Gather rhetoric slowly To the corners of each nameless...

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How strange this thought alive tonight, My own recollection, birthed and taken wing; How beautiful in flight... How strange, I think: A broken heart makes no sound Soft or loud to fill the air... Sheds not one drop of sweet red blood; Strange..this hard jawed pain The most mortal wound inbred Does not kill...does not strike the body dead. Not for the privilege of life Nor...

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They look down from their penthouse and turn up their nose. They see us all as a murder of crows. Bunch of pests and foul nuisances trying to eat of their crops. Not sons and daughters and mommas and pops. They don't want to hear of our lower class rambling. Why shan't we continue our financial gambling? Their scarecrow is...

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the occupy folks are sitting down inside of me, softly chanting slogans in unison, "CHANGE NOW" - as i am trying to notice - to take in the way the light photosynthesizes through the leaves of that tree over there and falls onto the wall of the building, with it's ruddy bricks stacked way up and it lines right through the glass of...

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There is a head game that none of us wants but it's there anyway. There is a head game that interferes with what we are trying (in all of our fumbling ineptitude) to say. There is a head game that distracts us from quality of life to the quantity of stuff for which we must pay. There is a heart game that giggles and grins and...

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the hippies are right, because they're being picked, like junkie scabs. They smell something foul, the tamborines and cell phones pulsate its time for another great push into the devils face. Plastic tents and dirty feet circles of fury in fiery streets.... HEY Old ones, this is no game - this is a fight to purge poisons from the black lungs of america.. Back into hot...

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