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A N Friedman Aug 2011
Garden
I dream to tend the Garden fair. Diversified
by beauty rare. Petals of fire
vibrant as they swing and sway. Tender
and fragile, yet strength of all aspects.
The rage of night may dim a shallow man’s perspective
But with hope and faith, it but
enhances the view in my imagination
to watch the moonlight bask in the glory
of flowing upon thee
Or to watch the sun
greater its calling
in hopes
of absorbing
more beauty
to mock
as it rests
at night
music of
the ages
flows forth
though all
is silent.
Clarity arises
As it sweeps
Away the fog
and adversaries
melt to zero
and the
intoxication
bombards me
deeply as
she opens her
lips to utter
the word
“Hello”
A N Friedman Aug 2011
1 Voice
1 voice can start an avalanche.
1 voice can start a war.
1 voice can end the hatred started many years before.
1 voice can start a movement, the movement end oppression.
1 voice can take prosperity and from it form recession.
1 voice can save many lives or lead them to destruction.
1 voice can save many souls or lead them to corruption.
A voice it can be silenced,
or snowball into many.
It can be as large as a mountain.
Or as small as a penny.
A voice it can be more powerful
Than every nation’s king.
The world is made of many voices
Rhythmically they ring.
A voice can be a future.
A voice can be a past.
Even if a voice is silenced,
It will always last.
A voice can be a solution.
A voice can be a scheme.                                                                                              
But never forget the power
Of a voice and a dream.
A N Friedman Aug 2011
Walk in and out, out and in
Don’t know where I'm goin’
But I know where I've been
I've been out living
While you stayed here dying
I've been searching for truth
While you’ve been lying
You’re inclined to conform
I'm inclined to rebel
Been trying to scare me with oceans
Oceans of notions of heaven and hell
But I am the good ship
My sails fly me above the oceans of notions
The bays of dismay
¾ of the earth is under water
even more as the situation gets hotter
but I am above
Above, above, above
In my sea sound vessel
With gilded sails of freedom I fly
Above the waves of discontent
Fleeing from going the way Atlantis went
“Poor and huddled and yearning to be free”
No longer enough just to let things be
‘Cause things have been and will continue to do so
With or with out help,
The incessant thinking
You think you know
But you only knew
And now things are new
And you can no longer say that you know
Things keep changing, the tide, the time, the season
As we pretend to know
that we know the reason
But how can they know anything of change
All they do is stay the same
They progress while standing still
Digress! Digress! Don’t keep the even keel
Need to open the eyes
of those who think that they’re wise
Cause the wisest man I ever met
Told me he didn’t know anything… yet.

— The End —