From the foot of the earth where the sun smiles White bears camouflage with the snow-capped mounds Cool, breezy air and fluffy snow for miles Quiet as a mouse, or absence of sounds But in due time the ice caps will melt While they are sleeping the water climbs Victim to the cards unwillingly delt Helpless and constrained to silence like mimes Clocks are ticking life is to short to wait They starve, fearful to go in high waters All of this madness will stop on what date? Dying by the hundreds like a slaughter A time once before clouds covered this plain But, now CFC’s have triggered their pain
Staccato gunshots pierce throughout the night; The off key bells into the morning ring. As Tierra Encantada wakes to light, He comes to town and teaches them to sing. They go to school and leave at home their flaws The city stumbles; peace seems never near But children learn to play the notes because He says the music overcomes the fear. So perfectly in tune they play their song As ‘Ode to Joy’ strikes up and down the street. And to them, violence never felt so wrong. Till all that’s left at night is moving feet Belonging to a child from way afar Who learned to trade his gun for a guitar.
Prostitutes are constantly mistreated. They are never protected in their job Which makes them feel like they are not needed. And any man who buys them is a slob. No one knows what these women have gone through They come from pasts where they have been abused So every hit they feel is nothing new What better way to make someone feel used? The women think this is their only choice Because of the treatment they have received. Therefore they don’t speak out in their own voice. All they really need is to be relieved. Instead they still walk up and down the street With their heads full of fears of being beat.
The beautiful waves of azure blue come Concealing treachery behind a veil Calming with their melodious hum Breaking toward the shore in gentle swells, Those who calmly go about their day With not a thought to danger, threat, or pain. If only a warning could lead to a way, Out of the harm the waves can contain. With a sudden shift and a violent plunge, The Earth shakes loose her immobile support Of the liquid force that appears to lunge Toward the unsuspecting, unknowing sort. The survivors cry with desperate need And people far away heard it indeed.
The simple hungry look is all we see. Behind their eyes lie stories yet untold of childhoods robbed and harsh realities that thwart and cheat the body, not the soul.
The hunger rages like a burning fire that eats and eats all but their basic need. To ease the emptiness is their desire. Their souls are full and long the world to feed.
Their plight is a reflection of our own empty spaces in full yet hungry souls. We feast to fill, avoiding the unknown that haunts us all when faced with empty bowls.
Their bodies fed, we see beyond their eyes to share their pain and thus our souls arise.
The Life of a Soldier What is the life of a true soldier like? How are thou emotions contained all day? Wondering how to avoid a deadly spike While fighting on dust in a mass of gray Uniforms, while watching their friend drop dead. This is the life of a true, brave soldier. Day by day, the same war is fought instead Of drinking luxuries like black Folgers Coffee, hopefully the end is in sight. Finally, there is an end to the dread. The soldier nears the homestead in the night. Simple respects have been paid to the dead. His wife now makes him coffee from Folgers This is the life of a true, brave soldier.
Soundless giggles and tiny toes create a single part of your petite physique. You are completely clueless of your fate; teardrops will never roll down your smooth cheek.
She is going to begin to gain weight; people around her will begin to talk. Her only reaction to you is hate. She will face endless ridicule and mock.
But your hands flawless, fleshy perfection, Are gone from the promised safety of womb. No eyes lay upon your pink complexion. She puts you in an everlasting tomb.
Please understand you're not the one to blame It was simply just not your time for fame
Looking at those eyes as I walk away, I see the hurt that each day brings to you, On the cold, cruel concrete, I see you sway, Swaying back and forth as if you were cued.
Cheerless as can be, for grief surrounds thee, Your kin, they crieth, but what can you do? For food is scarce and surrounding warmth weak, You’re lucky to get a dollar or two.
Forgotten in this world, aid rarely comes. There are millions more like you, but you hope. Hoping for something better soon, you hum. Humming severs the grief for you to cope.
Another hour passes, then a day. You quietly bow down your head to pray.
From the foot of the earth where the sun smiles
ReplyDeleteWhite bears camouflage with the snow-capped mounds
Cool, breezy air and fluffy snow for miles
Quiet as a mouse, or absence of sounds
But in due time the ice caps will melt
While they are sleeping the water climbs
Victim to the cards unwillingly delt
Helpless and constrained to silence like mimes
Clocks are ticking life is to short to wait
They starve, fearful to go in high waters
All of this madness will stop on what date?
Dying by the hundreds like a slaughter
A time once before clouds covered this plain
But, now CFC’s have triggered their pain
Enchantment
ReplyDeleteStaccato gunshots pierce throughout the night;
The off key bells into the morning ring.
As Tierra Encantada wakes to light,
He comes to town and teaches them to sing.
They go to school and leave at home their flaws
The city stumbles; peace seems never near
But children learn to play the notes because
He says the music overcomes the fear.
So perfectly in tune they play their song
As ‘Ode to Joy’ strikes up and down the street.
And to them, violence never felt so wrong.
Till all that’s left at night is moving feet
Belonging to a child from way afar
Who learned to trade his gun for a guitar.
Mistreated and Defeated
ReplyDeleteProstitutes are constantly mistreated.
They are never protected in their job
Which makes them feel like they are not needed.
And any man who buys them is a slob.
No one knows what these women have gone through
They come from pasts where they have been abused
So every hit they feel is nothing new
What better way to make someone feel used?
The women think this is their only choice
Because of the treatment they have received.
Therefore they don’t speak out in their own voice.
All they really need is to be relieved.
Instead they still walk up and down the street
With their heads full of fears of being beat.
Disaster from the Deep
ReplyDeleteThe beautiful waves of azure blue come
Concealing treachery behind a veil
Calming with their melodious hum
Breaking toward the shore in gentle swells,
Those who calmly go about their day
With not a thought to danger, threat, or pain.
If only a warning could lead to a way,
Out of the harm the waves can contain.
With a sudden shift and a violent plunge,
The Earth shakes loose her immobile support
Of the liquid force that appears to lunge
Toward the unsuspecting, unknowing sort.
The survivors cry with desperate need
And people far away heard it indeed.
Hunger
ReplyDeleteThe simple hungry look is all we see.
Behind their eyes lie stories yet untold
of childhoods robbed and harsh realities
that thwart and cheat the body, not the soul.
The hunger rages like a burning fire
that eats and eats all but their basic need.
To ease the emptiness is their desire.
Their souls are full and long the world to feed.
Their plight is a reflection of our own
empty spaces in full yet hungry souls.
We feast to fill, avoiding the unknown
that haunts us all when faced with empty bowls.
Their bodies fed, we see beyond their eyes
to share their pain and thus our souls arise.
The Life of a Soldier
ReplyDeleteWhat is the life of a true soldier like?
How are thou emotions contained all day?
Wondering how to avoid a deadly spike
While fighting on dust in a mass of gray
Uniforms, while watching their friend drop dead.
This is the life of a true, brave soldier.
Day by day, the same war is fought instead
Of drinking luxuries like black Folgers
Coffee, hopefully the end is in sight.
Finally, there is an end to the dread.
The soldier nears the homestead in the night.
Simple respects have been paid to the dead.
His wife now makes him coffee from Folgers
This is the life of a true, brave soldier.
Time for Fame
ReplyDeleteSoundless giggles and tiny toes create
a single part of your petite physique.
You are completely clueless of your fate;
teardrops will never roll down your smooth cheek.
She is going to begin to gain weight;
people around her will begin to talk.
Her only reaction to you is hate.
She will face endless ridicule and mock.
But your hands flawless, fleshy perfection,
Are gone from the promised safety of womb.
No eyes lay upon your pink complexion.
She puts you in an everlasting tomb.
Please understand you're not the one to blame
It was simply just not your time for fame
Poverty Stricken
ReplyDeleteLooking at those eyes as I walk away,
I see the hurt that each day brings to you,
On the cold, cruel concrete, I see you sway,
Swaying back and forth as if you were cued.
Cheerless as can be, for grief surrounds thee,
Your kin, they crieth, but what can you do?
For food is scarce and surrounding warmth weak,
You’re lucky to get a dollar or two.
Forgotten in this world, aid rarely comes.
There are millions more like you, but you hope.
Hoping for something better soon, you hum.
Humming severs the grief for you to cope.
Another hour passes, then a day.
You quietly bow down your head to pray.