SILENT DEATHS
Deaths are not announced again.
Silence is our funeral songs.
We dare not cry, we dare not plea, we dare not protest...
Silently, the silent majority gives up hope, and die silently.
Everyday,somewhere, someone
drops..and die,
Consolation! My people, I see a new
sun rising from the Niger.
Akudolu Ignatius
SILENT DEATHS
Deaths are not announced again.
Silence is our funeral songs.
We dare not cry, we dare not plea, we dare not protest...
Silently, the silent majority gives up hope, and die silently.
Everyday,somewhere, someone
drops..and die,
Consolation! My people, I see a new
sun rising from the Niger.
Akudolu Ignatius
Our minds are becoming a cesspit
full of wokeness and misinformation
fuelled by a media that lies.
It's time we awoke from this madness
before big corporations poison our minds.
The casualty of all this nonsense
Is that truth no longer exist
The silent majority, have been silent to long
to all this deceit and corruption that lives.
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Into our lives, God manifests in various ways.
He protects us from every stupid deed.
In the era of Esther – the biblical days,
This lovely woman was made Persia’s queen.
Today vice president holds great significance.
And Kamala Harris can emulate Esther’s glory--
A powerful place in the political landscape
And a chance to be the heroine of the story.
With shootings and corruption brewing a funk,
What will be done to save our people from harm?
Will the Lord empower her to wield His influence,
Before the silent majority raises a monstrous storm?
imagine there is a war and nobody goes
turns swords into ploughshares instead
builds homeless shelters instead of bunkers
shares toil freedom and land
resists grabbing power
dresses in peace flags and love
the silent majority does not wish
to be slaughtered on battle fields
to satisfy greed and corruption
and they have a say because
they are the masses
we the people need to find our voice
a choir of compassion
and pacifist canon
rhymed metered and tranquil
poetry in untroubled stance and
rhythm of caring intention
I was once a soldier
had sold my soul to the highest bidder
to finance studies and life style
which still leaves a sour taste on my vita
today I am a simple poet
with something to say
quietly walk away from aggression
and hope that my bubble will spread
imagine there is a heaven
and we can stop burning bridges
as well as bear the cross on our shoulders
31st January 2023
Rebirth of a movement, for the people, for the human race.
Enshrined in our memories, an adventure to live with grace.
Nucleus of our freedom, justice and our liberty, all encompassing.
Animated by individuals seeking new life, a new beginning.
Submitting to our visions for a place to call our own, and a home.
Conclude no longer are we the silent majority and alone.
Emergent of the sleeping giant, as a voice, we become one.
Nexus as the stewards of our planet mother earth to fecund.
Cultivate our talents in unison as a community
Emulating all we know to be right from wrong, instinctively.
Renascence
11/17/2022
It seems sometimes,
Life is testing you.
You believe you can rise up,
Have something to look forward to.
There has been times life
Has brought me to my knees.
It can bring pain,
And a lot of unease.
I think this is the way
It has to be.
Life is full of
Wreckage and debris.
It is the teacher of lessons,
It can be cruel and hard.
It can ease in or
Catch you off guard.
I would never make you question,
Who I would choose?
If you could only, walk a
Mile, in my shoes.
My choice would be you,
Every single day.
When I look at you,
I get swept away.
I would support you no
Matter how I felt.
Even to be just another
Notch in your belt.
I would be your special lover,
Your epic fantasy.
The kind that leaves you
On the brink of insanity.
I would be that one friend,
Always by your side.
We would mold as one,
Never to divide.
I would cherish you,
Keep you dry in the rain.
I would love you,
I will ease your pain.
I would make your happiness,
My only priority.
I would become your
Silent majority.
Turbo1904 ?
Sable palms stood like soldiers at parade rest
between dunes and cottage ghost white
against emerald waves rolling
on the white sand beach of Panama City.
Tribal bigots planted Old Glory at water's edge,
staking claim to the public beach for their kind
saying without a word, "If you are not like us
you are not welcome; you do not belong.
This is the new America! This is our land!"
Not the silent majority, but a vocal minority
of white nationalists who clamor incessantly
about patriotism, but who deny freedom to all
who would come to our shores seeking a better life,
a new world of opportunity and hope,
unburdened by radicalization, fanaticism and fear.
Not too long ago, a frail little woman
stood her ground against an entrenched phalanx
of white supremacists who burned crosses,
who claimed they were patriots.
She started Old Glory waving proudly
toward a new era of freedom—
It is yet to come.
With a closed mouth (—)
they murmur their cheeky disapproval
Issuing mute complaints
through raised palms,
which are open to () sidearm grievances
Pursed lips (—) tout
their speechless litany of demands
Telling marching tongues
of dissent,
go talk to the hand
The silent majority (—) say,
they don’t wanna hear it
Go talk to the hand!
The silent majority (—)
will tell you non-verbally
to shut it!
Stop the noise,
chanting voices seeking equality
Go talk to the hand,
the speechless many (—) tell the vocal few
Hear what the hand
of the () sidearm have to say:
Bang ... bang, just go away!
Quiet complicity
is so deafening loud
Utter apathy
is a high moral compromise price to pay
Silence is the golden path
that will lead democracy the wrong way
The many closed mouths (—)
never did speak
for the few, open-minded voices
of humanity
I turn my back
to the hand with the trigger finger
pointing at me
LOYALTY LIES
RIP:
~~Here lies “Leslie Loyalty”
Was ¼ of SILENT MAJORITY?
Represented, yet was complacent
Right shall always rest its peace~~
9/18/18
Written by James Edward Lee Sr. ©2018
The people’s choice
ain’t always the right footstool fit
Crown a throne sitter
with electric glam fanfare
Light the bright Roman candles
for a cancer stick spitter ...
See the fireworks in the air:
Inter
Continental
Ballistic
Missives
got voter arm drone sent
Cheek chicanery
is puffing pride hellbent
The home plate people say,
they know how to get around third base
The silent majority
whistle kicked a ballot bray:
Said they know how to rule and regulate
Mute mules got a gut promise packet
burst in their purse belly
White powder vows telly
is a politrician mix: Rublecon racket
Dressed to deceive,
they wear the gorgeous mink sable
Eyes often believe
spit paid broadcast signal on cable
Raw mink voltage
is copper wire insular selectable
Red carpet dotage
give Venus fly idol cries
to the froggy princes they chose
If the cold iron velvet glove
fits tight rightly on the bow hand
Send the poison arrow love
into bent hearts prone to knelling
In Due Time
The Silent Majority will fall prey to the sound of “one hand clapping”.
7/17/2016
submitted to – Give me your best one liner – Poetry contest
sponsor – Silent One
Now I feel like I'm one of the silent majority
Like I'm that person who's eating humble pie
Though bitterness eating away inside of me
And now I'm starting to crumble, all I do is cry
Expressing one's self in words, it's not as easy
But then trying to talk I do mumble, yes that's I
Getting myself into a right state getting panicky
But then I suppose a bit of a wombale that’s why
Sometimes I don’t choose my words that carefully
Trying to rumble tall yeah there’s no word of a lie
But right now these times just seem so scary
And as like always I stumble though ,I do try!
Again another little interpretasion of ones self expressing
another side in same vain as other writes older wonder
ect i was trying here to be clever with wording still wanting to
add extra verse perhaps in future I will do
written by my slef davidscott,,,,,,,,,,,,,, feb2013
inspierd by past and present circumstants
InTERPRETASIONS OF ONES SELF
Austerity?
Expensive cars chocking the approaches
to Vilamoura, the yacht and seaside town.
No austerity today, a man in an old Fiat
was laughed off the road, probably a waiter
on the way to work. No poverty no beggars
only shampooed dogs with golden collars.
And as always the poor, the silent majority,
stayed in their howls, sun is exclusively for
the perma- tan set in August.
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