Tortured Ideals

Misinterpreted

Mislead

Perverted words

And tortured ideals

But who to trust

When they all disagree

On what’s a must

Some say “More freedom!”

Unless you are gay

Or a woman

Or black

Or brown

Others say

“Get out of the Middle East!”

“It’s not our fight!”

But what about that

Disastrous plane flight

And the towers ablaze

Am I in a dream

Or do we really have two sides

With no in between?

That’s my future your playing with,

By the way

My voice is drowned

In the volatile crowd

I don’t have money for a Super PAC

How are those legal anyway?

The concept is simply whack

I’m too young to vote

But old enough to know

This is a bad direction to go

Why don’t you all shut up

And look around

Before this all-out boxing match

Starts another round

 

Sides

I tried to find the most unbiased article I could for the Trayvon Martin case. Much harder than expected. I searched Trayvon Martin on the Miami Herald‘s and had to go page 34 before I found an article describing more or less the facts of the case, not the racist aspects of it. I wrote this poem more as a response to the reactions of Americans than as a response to the case itself. I don’t know if George Zimmerman is racist or not because I was not there when the shooting happened. This case has changed from one about seeking the truth to one about racial injustices in America. Perhaps this is therapeutic, but we must not forget what this case is really about, the unbiased version of it, and hope that justice is reached, whatever the side.

One side is white

And the other black

In the middle huddles red

Red is what happens

When black and white mix

Red is dreams lost

Red is lives whisked away

Red is the tears of yesterday

You’d think it’d be gray

That mixed stain of colors

Gray is what they should make

Black and White

White and Black

It makes sense

But humanity never has

So the red is still there

A stark reminder of prejudice

The blemish of a failed mass wish

A wall for those

Too something to mix

White and Black

Black and White

Both are colors

But not really

Both do exist

Fact acknowledged or not

Black and White

White and Black

Have much in common

More than they realize

It’s time for them to start

Relying on more than just their eyes

Revolution of Justice

I wrote this after watching the KONY 2012 video.

                     Voices, voices to be heard

                     Listener, listener spread the word

Raise, raise, raise your hands

Today, today we the lambs

Bare our teeth and shake the land

Growing, growing are the small

Tremble, tremble if you are tall

Brick by brick and stone by stone

We tear down a wall so overgrown

Oh hear it, hear it creak and moan

As it tumbles to the ground

Resonating with freedom’s sound

Together we all can surpass

The few who hold the cards

They have power but we have voices

Voices loud and not ashamed

Voices speaking of those to blame

Voices so many they have no name

Too long we stood aside

Til’ hope had all but died

Today is the day fate is defied

With joined hands

And a billion footfalls

We answer the desperate calls

Of the oppressed and the ignored

We’re shaking the world straight to its core

Today, today and forever more

We take our stand

Because justice is worth fighting for

Indifferent Army

Carbon copies one by one

Built to kill and never stun

Forward they march

Through nervous streets

Responding to an unheard beat

One thousand soldiers of one mind

Actions effortlessly synchronized

No one can successfully retaliate

Against an army not fueled by hate

Crimes of logic not of passion

Executed in an orderly fashion

Fingers on triggers do not flinch

Black killer bullets never miss

Death seduces life with its metallic kiss

The cold hard truth out there to see

Is that logic and greed outweigh humanity

For every twenty guns there is but one open heart

For every healed soul there are a hundred red marks

Ban Censorship!!

– This is the poem I had on my blackout page yesterday.  I decided to post it again for those of you who may have missed it and also because the protest may be over, but the bill is still in existence and that is unacceptable.  My poem is applicable to this bill, but also to all other forms of censorship. As an avid reader, the banning of books has always been something that is especially wrong to me.

I was planning on choosing one quote as a representative for my feelings on censorship, but I could not choose, and here they all are:

“You can cage the singer but not the song.”  ~Harry Belafonte, in International Herald Tribune, 3 October 1988
“The paper burns, but the words fly away”.  ~Akiba ben Joseph

“Censorship is telling a man he can’t have a steak just because a baby can’t chew it.”

― Mark Twain

“When you ban a book you ban an idea, and that’s communism.”

– Andrea Z. 🙂

Hold back the curtain

Don’t let the wretched thing fall

Come to freedom’s SOS call

Ideas are truth and they are free

How dare they hide them so the people can’t see

Writer’s, join your hands

Preserve the freedom of this land

We are the backbone

Of every revolution

We are the first ember

Of a raging fire

Sing with this written choir

Raise our standard ever-higher

Quills raised and held in an iron-tight grip

Ban the despot that is censorship

Coup de Grâce

She was down on the ground

Balled up in defiant defeat

He had her in his palm

One last kick

At her shaky pride

His victor’s grin

He could not hide

She told him he’d won

He said he wasn’t done with the fun

She told him to leave

Find someone else to torture

With words so very cold

And threats so very bold

He said the last spurn would be his

And he made it so

Her mind and body red and raw

He raised his fist

A coward’s coup de grâce

The Dead Villager

Here I lie

Unseeing eyes

Wanting to cry

Those soldiers have come

In planes so large

They block out the sun

Shots destroy every silent night

My whole word screams but one word, “FIGHT!”

Who said they could come?

Who said they could come

And just take over

Pushing us around

Like a bulldozer

I’ve seen atrocities

That would you astound

And knock you speechless

Flat on the ground

Like me

In this hot desert sand

A worthless olive branch

Limp in my hand

We don’t need them

They think they’re so good

Go back home

Words are for peace

Not soldiers with guns