Where are the poets, the activists, intellectual front lines during these times?
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Voices of reasons, stokers of flames, calmer of storms
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Let it be not in celebrities, athletes, talk show hosts...
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Bring about change thru words. Wisdom. Leaders of Rhetoric, for if not, we will be doomed by legions of the privileged and martyred deaths will never be avenged, abandoned by time...Violent ends without ever beginning!
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Come about oh ye Stokely Carmichael’s of this age, Abbie Hoffman’s of the Suburbs, let YOUR VOICES BE HEARD!!!
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Protesters need you!
This time, this place, this nation that’s so *******, who’s wound is wide and bleeding profusely...
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Last night I dreamed of you...
Walking your way down an aisle...
Bouquet of flowers in your hand...
Smiling at me, eyes locked in at me...
All the songs we ever shared...
Played as you stepped
One foot
Closer to be my wife...
.
And then I woke up...

I would rather die
Alone.
Cold.
Penniless.
Hungry.
Broken bones.
In a gutter
On a rainy day...
Rodents nibbling on my
Shoeless feet.
.
Than to ever be married again...

Dearly departed martyred requiem of a heart...
I’d still be able to recognize your kisses in any sea...
Sip from your cup than to drown in anyone else’s ocean...
The places no one could touch...
Still belong to you...
,,,,,,,,
Loving words we spoke to each other still dance around a midnight fire, holding hands and dreaming of each other...
,,,,,,,
Dreaming about a day
And numerous moon filled nights...