he French Debate in English
The program was about the power of alternative media such as X and Facebook
A woman from the EU said those programs
Can be banned, by the stroke of a pen
What arrogance, to ban people of Europe not
To see what the alternative media say
Be practicing censorship
The EU is after Elon Musk for what was considered an interference in the upcoming
German election of AtD.
It is what the voters in Germany like to vote for
EU wants to stop voices they dislike, which is tantamount to dictatorship
Have you ever wondered about all the things that require your signature in life
How about a marriage certificate, I now pronounce you man and wife
A steady hand is needed as you buy your first home
If a writer's cramp occurs with so many places to sign, you are not alone
The car of your dreams you are about to drive off the lot
Or maybe the insurance for that car you just bought
Your passport for an upcoming dream trip you are about to take
The officer speeding ticket for moving too fast, oh for heaven's sake
Your birth certificate your parents sign to prove you are alive
Your driver's license after you show you know how to drive
The only thing I would like to sign is a big check from the lottery I just won
One more stroke of the pen and my work day will be done
Time to buy a new vehicle , where do I start
The possibilities are endless, the only I know for sure is that alot of money is about to depart
Should I invest in a foreign ride or one from my own country
So many types to choose from,which one might it be
Should I stick to gas, go electric, or maybe a combination of both
Having to decide on a small car good on gas, or perhaps an SUV considering our family's continuing growth
I guess I have to choose a color that would appeal to the whole family
Should I trade the old girl in, or sell it privately
A decision has finally been made, off to the dealership, time to rejoice
With the stroke of a pen and shake of a hand a new vehicle I am about to depart in
As I pull up to my driveway my family awaits, everyone hops in,we go for a spin
The mark of a triumphal concert printed
On a glossy long-playing record sleeve.
The concertmaster's smiling face hinted
The acclaim she was entitled to receive.
She liked her drawing with her lock of hair
Falling on the strings of her violin
Like the violinist of the disk where
She held her instrument under her chin.
As always, her last stroke of a pen fell
With the last crackling of the old vinyl.
One day, she would be applauded as well
Louder than the winners of a final.
Her hope endured until the dazzling daydreams
Shattered into pallid scars of moonbeams.
The Last Unicorn
I was with the last Unicorn
As she drew her last breath
Her horn expelled magic
As she succumbed to her death
The fairies and Gnomes
Each shed a crystal tear
At the thought of a planet
With no unicorns here
Dragons from Lost kingdoms
Came to show their remorse
The moon became unbalanced
In grief shifted off course
A Phoenix from the east
Flying on wings of fire
Tried to revive her
With flames of desire
The oceans all rose
As a show of respect
They waved to her goodbye
A loss difficult to accept
Without the unicorn
Magic shifted to men
It can only now exist
With the stroke of a pen
So poets be the keepers
Of stories new and old
We must not give up on magic
Or this world will grow cold.
Anthropomorphic in nature, I stand
The last of the letters, the final brand
My sharp edges, my zigzag form
Distinctive and unique, a letter born
I am not like A, B, or C
I am not as common, as you can see
I am a letter of surprise
A letter that makes you realize
I am the sound of a buzzing bee
The zip of a zipper, wild and free
I am the end of the alphabet
The letter you can never forget
I stand tall with pride, and I shout
I am the letter Z, no doubt
I may be the last, but I am not least
I am the letter that never ceases to feast
Feast on words, and sounds, and songs
A letter that belongs
In every language, every tongue
A letter that's forever young
Anthropomorphic in nature, I may be
But I am more than just a letter, you see
I am the final stroke of a pen
The last word, the end.
:: 02.23.2023 ::
Welcome to the Time Warp
Does it seems that history seemingly repeats
Where the simplicity of life is so rare to find
And the kindness of heart finds no retreats
No sharing of wealth, greediest of mankind
Where fear amongst the masses abound
Perpetrated by forces designed to protect us
Where human rights are lost without a sound
Our way of life changed, forever superfluous
Freedom of speech is silenced by the stroke of a pen
Unsure of what we’re told, will these lies never end
Being controlled by the wealthiest of businessmen
And our losses of freedom too much to comprehend
Welcome to the time warp, once again we all fall prey
We become just pawns to an unjust power once again
Perhaps it’s time to take a stand, one voice have our say
The time has come to speak freely, if not now, then when
What is a man, what is a woman…
solved by the stroke of a pen
The genders now mix, the game has been fixed
—playing fields only pretend
(The New Room: January, 2021)
Sounds coming from thy mouth
Bring death and destruction
It is not man that kills but the tongue
Who orders man to a war of death
Sharpe as a two edge sword once said
How powerful a few words can be
We follow like sheep to be Slaughtered
Through words and the stroke of a pen
The tongue is a weapon we all have
Some use it with kindness others kill
Spit out your words wisely with love
Use them with kindness not death
For three hundred thousand, of five billion years,
A fact never challenged by science or fears;
Upright Homo-Sapiens, embodied two genders,
Each body clearly favoring, the other body’s splendor.
But alas as we humans, have improved and evolved,
We decided old constructs, should now be dissolved;
By strong social order, and educated means,
Replaced by enlightenment, and the Science of Genes.
In a newfangled world where anything goes,
And dare not be challenged, questioned, opposed;
Men can be women, women now men,
A surgical metamorphosis, with the stroke of a pen.
As we blur the lines separating, factual truth,
Eliminating inequalities, deemed clearly uncouth;
Despite our clear difference, in gender and sex,
Fair treatment of genders, includes mutual respect!
We owe our world's progress, to mindsets deemed fair,
Of gender equality, that eliminates despair;
And instead of confusion, melding genders the same,
We should celebrate our differences, in far more than name.
Sat and watched some nostalgia today,
All about Salfords death and decay.
Sad to see but it had to be slain
It had to come down to rise up again,
But the way it was done was all in vain.
New houses for old was the alluring cry,
No one noticed the neighborhood die.
People packed up their world in a moving van,
And that's when the exodus first began.
It rolled across the district like a tidal wave.
The folk banded together for one last wake.
Street parties abounded to give the kids cake.
Folk stood at front doors, arms across chests,
They said, well, he didn't have much that's for sure,
Next doors gone so where's me coat and hat,
Suppose I 'll go check out that high rise flat.
Our turn tomorrow, demolition starts day after,
Our history crushed to rubble, what a disaster.
The neighborhoods gone never again to arise.
I've watched them all go with tears in their eyes.
We'll meet again, don't know where, don't know when.
The life we had shared, taken with the stroke of a pen.
© Dave Timperley. Easter Sunday, 2018
Immigrants –Oh no!
Nor Native Americans;
We came as cargo.
The ban; be aware:
They are back. Look out!
They still do not care.
You may sigh and pause;
But remember their slicked ploy:
The Grandfather Clause!
You have a passport;
But with the stroke of a pen,
That can be revoked.
This could be the end,
Or could be the beginning;
Depends on you kin.
Notice the ban list.
No European countries;
Africa not missed.
I just could be wrong,
But remember history.
It’s best to be strong.
The wrong with me
It seems
Around me something is wrong
Otherwise, the sense will not creep in
Whatever reputation I have earned
Will go at once with the stroke of a pen
Of somebody else
A sense of fear will not grip me
If all is kept well
And everything is done right
Around me something must have done wrong
So I feel whatever fame i have achieved
Will vanish at once with the lashing of tongue
Of someone else
It seems
Something is very wrong with me
Otherwise, I would not feel
Who I love too much will lose me at once
With the alleged misunderstanding
Of someone else .
I see the girl, walking a soaked street,
as fallen leaves pave a path
for her in a maroon skirt,
talking about the boy she never did love;
dreaming about the man she'll never get-
as she holds close,
her head starts to pop
when she's done; lost again, another one,
gone once more, believe me, again lost, I know.
A heartbeat stills, for a moment, a heartbeat loses sight
of true light, the stroke of a pen, gone-goodnight...
She, the girl in maroon, walks again,
stumbling and lost to her car,
light a cigarette and watch her get lost,
that girl in the maroon,
she jumps in, with a twist of hand and touch of a key
to the ignition,
she lights up and drives away...
lost, gone, forgotten, goodnight.
.6.1.2014.
With a stroke of a pen, I can change the world
Russell Sivey
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