Tortured Ideals

2 05 2012



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


Ban Censorship!!

19 01 2012

– 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

The Dead Villager

14 01 2012

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


10 01 2012

– I just finished rereading the book “Night” by Elie Weisel, a true account of one man’s survival through the Holocaust.  The Holocaust has always fascinated me because it and other genocides, like Rwanda, are proof of prejudice’s raw destructive power.


Broken glass

Shattered by hate

Pride kept behind

A gun guarded gate

Lives that were lost

At useless cost

At the word

Of a man deranged

So much pain

Hidden from the world

For too long

Until it was too late


But even then it was denied

The existence of a genocide




What I Am

1 01 2012

I was rather hesitant to post this poem because I was concerned people would be offended.  The older generation of which I speak in the following verses is mainly a reference to many of the political and business leaders on an international scale, but also on a local/national scale.  The world being left to my generation is not a stable one, but I have faith in my contemporaries that we have learned enough the make improvements and influence the generation behind us from reverting back.  I’m not saying that everything is bad, it is just from my point of view nothing is improving, money is that damn thing we hate to love, and the road is full of big, rusty nails just waiting for my brand new tires.

I am the voice that today is ignored

But tomorrow will ring true

I am the mind in which a generation’s mistakes are stored

And believe me they do not number few

I am the one who will turn things around

And right all past wrongs

I am the hope you have not yet found

How dare you mock my choice of songs

I am the door more open than you

The one that does not segregate

The souls it lets through

I am your future and you are my fate

Balanced on my shoulders there is

An ever-increasing load

Composed of your failed ideas

The trash you leave as you walk this endless road

I am the day no one starves

The day prejudice is no more

The future explorer of the stars

You really should pay attention to me more

Lazy is what you call me

Ungrateful of what I am given

My faults outnumber fish in the sea

By my hormones I am driven

Blind is what I call you

Ignorant of what you have done

Your mistakes could block out the sun

Greed fuels all that you do

I am the rock on which humanity stands

Accept it or not it is the truth

And I will one day join my many hands

For I am all Youth