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There's a Revolution coming,
The boots are on the streets;
It's calling from the graves,
We're stirring from our sleep.
There's a hunger in the eyes;
The troops are on their feet.
The revolutions's coming
And the enemy won't retreat.

There's a revolution coming,
It's coming as we speak;
The revolution's coming,
It should be here next week.

The mob appeal
Is running lights,
Towered minions
Fight the fight
To rein in their percent,
From navel gazing heights.
Desks in towers,
Those grasping power,
Will tumble in defeat.
The gravity of their greed
Will drag them through the streets.

The bell at four
Will sound no more;
The chorus chants
For a holy war; and
Salvation for the weak.

There's a revolution
On the way,
We'll re-write all the laws,
We'll line up the Romanovs,
And shake down all the Shahs.
There's a revolution coming
And it's coming
With just cause.
Re-post. New title. Of course it's a Lennon line.
Seems appropriate with the goings on in the streets of America.
 Nov 2016 Damian Murphy
Traveler
I have written this letter of my impending death
Of my own will, my delusion, in my last breath
A spear breaches the armor, pain penetrates the soul
I bear this wound in horror and march on through the snow

Oh, that I were home with you
Blessed to be of the surviving few
To live the dream of freedom’s bliss
To escape the ink of death’s list

There the young shall fear no more
The old shall rest with unlocked doors
There I shall play guitar and sing
And through the walls our laughter rings

Friends and neighbors shall smile and wave
There upon fresh linens we shall lay
To sleep the dark and rejoice the dawn
There the ties to life hold strong

Yet these tides have turned against the meek
My burning eyes grow tired and weak
I fear the cold has come to stay
And the blinding night has replaced the day
I attempt to hide in my pretense
But the storm is nigh, the fog grows dense
Redeemer of these fallen stars
The sky grows darker where you are
By these sands of time running low
I’m not so far from letting go

An enemy dances at our gates
Internal bigotry, fear and hate
Our children die in foreign wars
And here we ask "what was it for?”
Until at last we are no more
Traveler Tim
2006
Beyond the rolling bones
Of memory's myths
And the ancient sounds of laughter and tears
Something mystical exists
Something deeper than marrow
The seeds of our ancestor's dreams and fears
And at a level beyond our knowing
It still rules our actions
And leads us to our fates

                                             By Phil Roberts
It's good being finite
sort of
right

who wants to be forever
and never?

I want to last just so long
and say so long
and that's
not wrong,
right?

If the infinite lit me
if God almighty
bit me
I still wouldn't want to
live forever.
..this might be right it might not but we really got no choice have we?
 Nov 2016 Damian Murphy
Meg
royal
 Nov 2016 Damian Murphy
Meg
she wore her pain like a crown
and she was the queen
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