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Mark Sep 10
Why do dictators like to finger the globe?
Shoot the ******* dead, before they become world known.
Should we strangle the gangster and forget about a police probe?
Now in Ferguson, it's happening daily and getting full blown.

Do you think about how others live?
Or look away from others in society your with.

What sort of human can make another's jaw drop and body flop?
Get in the ring, put on your gloves and see who comes out on top.
Will the man on the moon ever show us his dark side?
Maybe the little green men have got something to hide.

Do you think about how others live?
Or look away from others in society your with.

Do clowns sometimes cry and does their eyeliner run?
Maybe there black or white and some might even carry a gun.
Do prison girls like the jail uniform stripe?
Surely they wish for a pink blouse, but never gripe.

Do you think about how others live?
Or look away from others in society your with.

Why do banks, shareholders and politicians always have money in reserve?
While the workers, pensioners and babies don't get what they deserve.
Since when should new immigrants be able to paddle to shore?
When skilled workers from afar and new brides are drowned in red tape, for sure.

So just think about how others live?
Also look at all others in society and give.
It is said there is life out of Earth,
Not just moss or some germ livin’ in filth;

There are beasts very smart in Syluthaarme,
A big rock with a vast digital farm,

Where they work not at all or too hard,
Have one ear, but three legs, walk backward,

Got one eye gazing far far away,
And complexions of more shades of gray

Than is seen here on Earth. Among the mass
Live a few who belong to no class,

But pretend that they share illusions
The less smart breeding mass envisions.

An asylum it is for the sane
In the insane’s needed stead feel the chain.
Hossein Mohammadzade
Creator Sun Sep 9
Do you see the boy?
Skipping and jumping under the sky?
Laughing like he has no fear in the world.
Holding hands with air.

Do you notice the way he moves?
The way his feet jerks and grooves?
Moving so unnaturally,
Laughing like there's no end in things.

Lovely schizophrenia, isn't it?
The way it came from his mother?
The way he cares for someone else
Suffering from the same mental illness.

Delusions, fabrications, dreams that is unreal.
the way that he perceives the world makes me really feel.
Uncomfortable, yet I don't think that he asked me to feel
Pity for his condition.

Laugh of a thousand children,
Asking for a better future,
Those ones that seek the asylum,
And look forward for capture.
Public opinion on mental illness is changing, but is it for the better?
Tony Tweedy Mar 15
I have spoken with young men,
who were forced to up and run.
Seen the wounds they carry,
from the barrel of someones gun.

I have Spoken with women,
women with tears in eyes that burn.
As they relate what was done,
because they wanted just to learn.

Ive seen teenage girls running,
in fear for their own lives.
Because someone has told them,
they must become someones wives.

I sat with the old men,
whose spirit would not yield.
And heard how rains of bombs,
were dropped upon their field.

I have heard the many stories,
of families torn apart.
Heard of those still missing,
and the pain in fragmented heart.

I've heard of persecutions,
because of the differing of views.
The scores of people disappeared,
without even making evening news.

I met with many others,
and watched and heard them pray.
Running in fear because for them,
it means death to live your life as ***.

I have talked with the children,
all facing life alone.
Parents not seen,
since the houses all got blown.

These most horrible of all things,
most of you will never see.
But someone needs to tell you
these are the lives lived for many a refugee.
So many stories.... be thankful of where you are born or live... I am.
This poem could have gone for pages more. I spoke with hundreds of asylum seekers over 13 years. edited 17th March 2019
Jasmine dryer Dec 2018
huh?
oh its you
well welcome back i guess
i see that your actually willing to put my sanity to the test
well before you start
you should know this job will be a whole mess
my name?
well you just get straight to it!
call me
what you think i am
however you would wish to personify me
sit down over on that chair
its understandable if your scared
but you must be built for this stuff aren't you?
not many people can walk into a psychopath room,
i mean from what i assume
well don't just sit there!
show me a chart
or
ask us a question
oh? i'm sorry i meant me
ask me a question
or leave to my padded cell
because unless your going to help
might as well let the voices drag me down to hell
i'm exploring with a more narrative series
Jasmine dryer Dec 2018
she had a chance to make us sane
to bad little sally ran away
but its ok
its ok

its not like our minds are falling a
                                                              p
                                                         a
                                                                   r
                                                           t
the longer and longer
the doctors make us stare at the
c h a r t
but were smart
the only problem
is that we don't know where to start

we wait for sally
to make us sane
to bad little sally
has ran away

our rooms are soft
sally said like clouds
padded softly
for when the voices get loud

little sally
why so blue?
miss sally
what did we do to you

she had we chance to make us sane
to bad miss sally
has ran away
you listen to what passes for the TV news
you read some
but not all
of social media views
you notice that
despite all internationalism
it‘s mostly old sensationalism
combined with more or less suggestive speculations about
how many people may have died in forest fires
to what imaginable depths the president aspires
whether the North Koreans have more rockets
     despite the wonderful achievements
     of the national superdealer
who of the leader‘s staff might be the next
      to lose her job or his credentials
etc. etc.

in short
the world has mostly shrunk
to domestic politics and power games
plus a few places on the globe where
U.S. soldiers still are dying
     in order to protect their country‘s interests
     in oil, assorted mineral resources
     or allies of political expedience
or a few thousand refugees from countries plagued
      by persecution or dictators are
      marching for weeks to claim asylum
           in the home of the brave and the free
           under the statue of liberty
     only to discover that they are seen
     as an invasion threatening
            that blesséd city upon a hill

visions have grown smaller
more petty voices dominate the talk

a nation made of immigrants
faced with the poor who flee from their oppressors
decides to close its borders to the immigrants‘ next wave
oblivious of the times when they themselves
still searching for a better life
found a new place where they felt safe
led by the statue‘s torch that shone its light
upon a poet‘s words of welcome:

"Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"
The last stanza is a quote from the poem „The New Colossus“ by Emma Lazarus, written in 1883. - For more information, check https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_New_Colossus
Welcome to my mind, my sanctuary, my prison,

you'll meet a thousand "Me" and you won't be glad to meet 'em...

Come over here look at the perfect "me", he hasn't misbehaved thus he's enjoying in a garden of eden...

Let me show you the "me" who lives in past, he was wounded bad and those wounds are his museum...

Now gaze past that museum, you'll see two shadows, brawling in their self made colosseum...

Follow me I'll show you my dungeon, where I've chained the "me" who had become a "DEMON"...

There's also prison above that dungeon where I torture the "me" who had done treason

He was too kind for his own good that's the only reason why I beat 'em

There's also a place filled with graves of fallen "me" who'll never wake and i call that place a broken mausoleum...

Now you may wonder how we run this kingdom, We elect the one with the most income...

But Pity the "me" who attemted to be free, when he's the one who lost that freedom;

This is no longer his sanctuary, he's no longer the king of this kingdom...
How can you even escape from yourself?
Jon Thenes Oct 2018
I retain, fixed
unworldly
cashed-in
a point
until corroded by metological formula
and practical social delinquency

Weather me down
til I am camera
projector
and pinhole

Pure and abyss-less
lights vehicle
apperatus
                         - forget me not
I self plagiarised a little in this... Such is life.
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