Keep the innocents in the village
Don't let the children play outside
The homeless and the nameless
Must stay huddled together
Finding shelter where they can
Because there are killers high above
Dropping bombs of hatred and rhetoric
Killing and maiming indiscriminately
And the killers are from so many places
Leaders from all over the world
Whose only morality is ambition
And their only emotion is paranoia
And those who dare to disagree
Are shut up or closed down
Never to be heard from again
And those who care to notice
Are watching open-mouthed
The bloodied stump of history
Right before their eyes
By Phil Roberts
You're willing to die for a country
That will exclude you from being able to serve.
You're willing to **** for a country
That still thinks a Bible is a valid argument.
You're willing to contribute to a conflict
That isn't as big a threat to your life
As the people you've vowed to protect the liberty of.
And you do it again and again
With a fraction of the respect patriots demand veterans are entitled to.
Because you've decided to put the needs of the complacent
Above your own human rights.
And you'll get no thanks from them,
Because they can't sleep easily at night
Unless they can rip off your clothing and see what's in your pants.
And if it doesn't add up to their image?
You can sacrifice your life for theirs and they'll still call you a freak.
I don't know why people are still so willing to die for a country that hates them so much, but the idea that the land of the 'free' wants to ban people from doing so and use such moronic excuses to do it has made me angry.
Tonight poets will find the words
to color their life and dip their pens
in wounds that aren’t even their own
and some will stare at the moon
seeing an empty plate, hungering
for something without a name
or a clock with no numbers knowing
time carries a dagger and a sword
for the hours that wound and nights
that cut throats, arrows that pierce
hearts fiercely until they lie still,
cold and bled out on a bed all alone.
I entrust my dreams to a silent hope
that they will someday find their place
in this, a past or future life
same smile on different face
I entrust my thoughts to travel time
to land where there is need
a sense of calm
a flash of joy
where nothing grows
I entrust my love to peer across
the synchronistic chain
to spy it's true immortal mate
hearts join like tears and rain
I entrust my soul to find a home
in this universal plan
the key to understand
Somewhere in the Good Book
I'm pretty sure it says
Blessed are the fish I hook
in the mouth, and blessed are the worms
Blessed are the homely
for they will be beautiful in heaven
Blessed are the cripples
who have to carry everyone's loads
Blessed are the one-eyed toads
Blessed is Stonewall Jackson
who will soon fall off of his horse again
Blessed is Abe Lincoln, he was a good man
Blessed are the white and black hands
coming together like where two creeks meet
Blessed are the drunks and clouds,
I like talking to them
Blessed are the poets no one will read
And blessed are the wild horses,
let them be wild forever so I can dream.