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 Oct 2015 FiesaLy
Marc Jackson
The mothers all cry
For the last baby down.
The protestors try
but there is no one around.
They all yell from the streets
but they can't make a sound.
All you hear are the feet-pounding
hungry war hounds.

I doubt that there's been
a more dangerous foe.
When it's fear we're afraid of
our fear feeds it more.
When you're freedom's at risk
then that freedom must go.
It's a paradoxical, sick, un-winable war.

SO
SALUTE
Hey YOU!
Do you have a problem with that?
I can't HEAR YOU SOLDIER,
fall in or fall flat.
We support what your forefathers said you stood for,
But their words hold no weight anymore.

Now all is so quiet
on the western frontier.
The purveyors of "RIGHT"
a whole two hundred years.
We're the STRONGEST
the PROUDEST
WORLD'S BIGGEST cliche.
But never mind, even Rome
didn't fall in one day.
And still the mothers all cry for the last baby down.
Marc Jackson 2008
 Oct 2015 FiesaLy
Fallen Angel
I can’t see the things you say.
You say that you care and that you love me,
but when I’m around you I feel useless ... worthless.
I have few things in this world that make my life worth living
and those are the things that you threaten to take away
that you threaten to get rid of.
I have cuts on my hips that you have never seen.
That you have never known about.
And when i look at them I see your name.
Oh, but don’t worry I see my father’s name as well.
They appear because it’s the only way I can feel
something other than worthless after speaking with you.
You don’t understand that when you yell
when you tell me I’m not even trying
that you ‘ll take away the only things that keep me alive
I feel horrible.
I feel worthless.
I feel like I don’t matter and that I never have.
You want me to be my sister…
you want me to be you,
but I can’t change who I am.
I am my own person and I guess that isn’t a good thing
at least not in this family.
You carried me for nine months
you gave birth to me.
you raised me.
But you shove me down and take my life away
because it doesn’t suit the way you want things.
The way you want me to be.
I’m sorry I have an opinion that’s not yours
and that I fight for what I believe and think
rather than submitting to your will.
I’m sorry I’m not good enough for you.
I’m sorry that you ever had a second daughter.
I’m sorry I’m here.
I’m sorry...
I've been having a lot of issues with my family lately and it's just getting worse. My mother is kind of oblivious to the fact that she is a major reason I'm on Anti-depressants and is making my life worse. My family is the thing that makes me wonder why I'm still on this earthly plane and why I was brought into it in the first place when I'm obviously not wanted in the family.
 Oct 2015 FiesaLy
Robert Burns
Ye banks and braes and streams around
The castle o’ Montgomery,
Green be your woods, and fair your flowers,
Your waters never drumlie!
There simmer first unfauld her robes,
And there the langest tarry;
For there I took the last fareweel
O’ my sweet Highland Mary.

How sweetly bloomed the gay green birk,
How rich the hawthorn’s blossom,
As underneath their fragrant shade
I clasped her to my *****!
The golden hours on angel wings
Flew o’er me and my dearie;
For dear to me as light and life
Was my sweet Highland Mary.

Wi’ mony a vow and locked embrace
Our parting was fu’ tender;
And, pledging aft to meet again,
We tore oursels asunder;
But, O, fell Death’s untimely frost,
That nipt my flower sae early!
Now green’s the sod, and cauld’s the clay,
That wraps my Highland Mary!

O pale, pale now, those rosy lips
I aft hae kissed sae fondly;
And closed for aye the sparkling glance
That dwelt on me sae kindly;
And mouldering now in silent dust
That heart that lo’ed me dearly!
But still within my *****’s core
Shall live my Highland Mary.
 Oct 2015 FiesaLy
Pax

Heart is blind without the mind to imagine
Yet the Heart is alive and it beats that speaks our soul
Heart does not function alone
But it's the Center of it all.

Our mind unites the five senses
---------------------------------------------------------­---------
The mind process what it hears
The mind creates what it sees
The mind evaluates what it smells
The mind appraises what it tastes
The mind senses whatever the body touches
The mind is only a machine without its core.
----------------------------------------------------------­---------
Heart and Mind connect
Because it's the most important to protect
It's a bond that is part of us ever since we were born
-----------------------------------------------------------­--------
                                                    It beats our fear
                                                     It beats our pain
                                                     It beats our sorrow
Our heart is our soul                    It beats our excitement
Where emotions are stored          It beats our pleasure
                                                     It beats our passion
                                                     It beats our love
-----------------------------------------------------------­----------
It speaks in silence
The mind only speaks what the heart tells
They communicate with a language that is unknown

The mind is neither good nor evil
But the heart is capable of being good or evil
The heart is capable of anything that speaks our nature
Even if your heart is dark as the darkest night
Another heart will give flame to start a light
A flame that will serve as light in your darkest night
This is how I perceived the mind and heart on how they work.

see the link below on how was it inspired.
http://willyampax.deviantart.com/art/Heart-isn-t-Alone-296733115

thank you so much for reading.
 Oct 2015 FiesaLy
Carl Sandburg
For the gladness here where the sun is shining at
          evening on the weeds at the river,
     Our prayer of thanks.

For the laughter of children who tumble barefooted and
          bareheaded in the summer grass,
     Our prayer of thanks.

For the sunset and the stars, the women and the white
          arms that hold us,
     Our prayer of thanks.

     God,
If you are deaf and blind, if this is all lost to you,
God, if the dead in their coffins amid the silver handles
          on the edge of town, or the reckless dead of war
          days thrown unknown in pits, if these dead are
          forever deaf and blind and lost,
     Our prayer of thanks.

     God,
The game is all your way, the secrets and the signals and
          the system; and so for the break of the game and
          the first play and the last.
     Our prayer of thanks.
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