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Freedom from Discrimination
Unless you belong to the wrong race
Freedom of Religion
Unless you follow the wrong religion
Freedom from Gender Bias
Unless you're the wrong gender
Freedom to Speak your Mind
Unless you contradict those in power
Freedom?
A complete Farce!!!
27 April 2017
But this is not only restricted to South Africa
we
spend
our lives
testing limits
wrestling faith
questioning wisdom
pondering existence
all in an effort
to make
sense
of it
all
the only
running
that counts
is running
out of time
 Aug 2017 JG O'Connor
Stefania S
the grass is greening
and voices begin to rise
i wander further
the distance between the tall oaks
and my bare feet
merely a few steps

the front door
not always left ajar
often thrown off its hinges
anger an anvil of weight
a battering ram

tightened
the moon rises and night falls
withering cries
cardinals fly west
and venus readies herself
for a second showing

an exchange
invaluable its rate
but just the same
someone's coming
or going
Close the door,
Firmly shut,
Hear it click,
Locked away.

Pretend I'm not here,
I'm nowhere,
For I'm not where
I want to be
So
I may as well be nowhere.

I can hear them outside,
Talking,
Laughing,
Love,
Happiness, it's never been so
Heartbreaking.

My heart is filled with joy for them
Yet yearns for the joy I'm missing.
Disappointment consumes me for my eyes
Are not supposed to be green.
Never have I felt so happy for someone
And sorry for myself.
When you're happy for others but feel sorry for yourself, even though you've no reason to because you're truly blessed you just tend to forget! Or choose to focus on the negative.
Every second feels like a minute,
Every minute feels like an hour,

Every sip slows me down like
All the time that dies
Slowly around me.

Every sip I need to sink down and
Suffocate voices deafening within.
Every word you spat, they won't Stop.
Every light that flashes isn't you
Every moment passes with your
Silent.

Every moment needs to be soaked in alcohol for me to see tomorrow.
Every sip helps me forget how
Each moment will pass without You.
When I am having bad times
Like this, I wonder why
You are not here with me. .

Every struggle is a percentage
Of my heart reshaping itself. .
The kind of world I aspire to live
W i  t h    y o u
Is turning into crumbles,
A ball of fire sunk in the ocean

Before it was   s u n r i s e ,
But now, my love
Has become   s u n s e t .
My skies get dimmer
As this heart is drown to
n o  t h  i  n  g n  e s s*.
 Aug 2017 JG O'Connor
James Mayes
**** Leeches

I saw one of the guys who live up the road from me,
sleeping on his front porch today as I drove by.  
He was leaned back in an old recliner,
half smiling, eyes closed,
sitting in the only area
where there was currently shade
on the old porch of the shambled house.  

There are four who live there.  
all in their forties or fifties.  
Three with white beards, one without.  
Front door always open.  Windows always open.  
No screens.  Cats lounging around in the sun.
Two couches and another recliner line the porch,
shoved back against the wall,
waiting for the eastern sun to rise a little higher
to put it all in shade.  

They’ll all be out there eventually.  
Common leeches of society.  
Sitting there laughing,
beers in hand,
telling the same stories
they’ve probably each heard hundreds of times.  

**** leeches.  
Always smiling and laughing.  
Enjoying life and not worrying
about car payments and credit cards
or payments on millions of materialistic possessions
they’re supposed to dream of having
as society demands.  

**** leeches.  
Always waving and being friendly
when I drive by.  
Always taking the time to say hello
and ask me how I’m doing
when I take my morning walk,
or sometimes my afternoon walk.  

**** leeches.  
Never once have they invited me
to eat steaks and shrimp
I was told they eat every day,
at the tax payers expense.  
They just sit there,
eating bologna sandwiches
and drinking beer,
enjoying life.  

How dare they rub it in
and mock society
showing off their happiness
the way they do.
**** leeches.  

JSM 8/3/17
Drowning myself in cheap liquor
To try to get to that place quicker
The place where words and ideas flow
The place I always long to go
Words flow quickly through my head
The phrases that I want to get
I can't get there with a straight head
I add ingredients to myself instead
The disordering of the senses from Rimbaud
That's where I want to go
To the palace of wisdom, down the road of excess
Is where I want to go to next
But there are so many casualties
Who've tried this way before me
Your senses cannot be saved
If you're six foot in your grave
But it's still the place I want to go
The only inspiration that  I know
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