Heard on the
News today
A lady saying
Our forefathers
Were not citzens
She is right
They were subjects
Under tyranny
And that is why
We are citzens
Although now
Of a revile nation

© 2017   Jim Davis

We'll never be able to change the world
We don't even have the means to change our ******* wallpaper!

We are protesting against
all the unfair things that our government is doing,
in the same way we go to church:
preachers and inciters, daily,
some of us do it on Sunday,
others only when a big religious event comes around the corner;
some of us never go,
and only end up thinking about it
before going to bed,
alone,
in our room,
in the dark.

We seldom forget that we came to this world
with the only mission of making ourselves unforgettable.

We have mixed feelings
about all the calls to action
that we stumble upon in the
***** wide web,
we feel guilt and
despair when it is too late
and regret not doing the right things
or doing them wrong,
we are not model citizens,
we are just fake people
that work from time to time as holy fashion models.

Forgive us for lying to ourselves
when we're lying in bed,
naked,
isolated.
Forgive us for not having a voice
when the choir needed us.
Forgive us for making excuses
for all the bad excuses we had.
Forgive us for all the love that
you haven't had the chance to give us.
Forgive us for
not wanting to be forgiven.

we are not gods.
you are not gods.
gods are not good.

We'll never be able to change the world,
but we're hoping to be the ones that are changed by it.

[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ELKbtFljucQ]

Risk your life out for the crowd
And you get nothing
But more rebels and jealous people
And you get trapped

Controversies made up from nowhere
You still lonely and cry inside
When you try to hear from positive sides
You get stalled by lots of advices

If you respect your people
Don't expect anyone bless you

Kung ikaw ay isang senador,  ano ang hakbang mo
Paano mo aalamin para malaman ang totoo
At kung alam mo na, isisiwalat mo ba ito
Kung ang madidiin ay isang kaibigan mo

Kung ikaw ay isang mambabatas,  ano kaya ang gagawin
Kapag nalaman ang totoo,  paano ito sasabihin
Kung ang kaibigan o pamilya ang siya namang madidiin
O patutunayan **** ang batas ay nababaluktot mandin

Kung ikaw ay isang mamahayag,  paano ka magsasalita
Doon ka ba sa totoo o kung saan ka may mahihita
Lalo na kung nais mo ring sumikat sa pagbabalita
Basta ba may narinig ka'y isisiwalat mo sa madla

Kung ikaw ay isang pari o kaya'y pastor ng simbahan
Ang puso mo ba ay malapit sa taong naghandog sa 'yong kawan
Utang na loob mo ba ang iyong isasaalang-alang
Dahil ang kawan na hawak mo ay kaniyang natulungan

Paano mo ihahayag kung ikaw ay isang ****
Sa mga kabataang sa harap mo'y nakaupo
Naghihintay ng liwanag,  ng dunong na isusubo
Kung ano ba ang nais mo sa kanila'y ituturo

Kung ikaw ang presidente,  makakaya mo bang lahat
Ang sugpuin ang problemang sa nuno pa natin nag-ugat
Ibababa mo na lang ba ang ngalan ng Pilipinas
Upang laging mayrong tulong sa ibang bansang ngayo'y sikat

Kung ikaw na karaniwang mamamayan na tulad ko
Nag-iisip,  nangangarap ng mabuti sa bayan mo
Ang makita sa 'sang sulyap, paniniwalaan ba ito
O pag-aaralang mabuti kung totoo ang narinig mo

Tayong lahat ay malaya,  malaya kang magpahayag
Malaya kang maniwala kung kanino ka mahahabag
Kung kanino magagalit, kung sino ang nililiyag
Ngunit isipin mo sana ang bukas ng ating mga anak.

The old man groans as he gets up,
Rising from the chair is a job.
He notices now he is getting older
His head is developing a bob.
Not quite Katharine Hepburn,
Not a nod as much as a bounce.
It’s not a palsy, more of a tic.
It’s not really that pronounced.

And stairs seem to be an enemy
They don’t match the cadence.
Between the risers and his feet
There just too much distance.
Or other times, they are too short
And rise up as an ugly surprise
Not coinciding with what he sees
With his own aging naked eyes.

The man complains about TV
How they are mumbling too much.
They seem to be whispering
Or using foreign words and such.
And when he turns the sound up
The action scenes hurt his ears.
A ***** trick to play on people
Who are a bit advanced in years.

The old man gets disgruntled
When people outside make noise
Like they are some kind of teenagers;
But they’re adults, not girls and boys.
Here it is ten o’clock at night
When decent people are asleep.
What kind of schedule is this
For decent people to have to keep?

What is he to make of the music
These young people like to play?
It has to be some kind of abuse
To use a guitar in that way.
In his day there was melody
And words you could understand.
The noise they make is like a collision
Between a dump truck and a sedan.

The old man grumbles in frustration
That things have not stayed the same.
He would write a letter to the President
If he could figure out who to blame.
But one thing sure, he always insists,
It didn’t use to be this way before.
Now a kind of anarchy seems to exist.

Holy Spirit
Have I only to speak your name and The Fruits of your bearing become Mine?
What of my Name …

Did It Stand By Thee,
when the statues fell,
and the horses tromped the citizens blood underfoot?

Was this a fight to the death?
or was this something that I stayed Four,
and became myself again?

Look Up Dear Citizen,
It is for You to decide Now.
Is it Well with Thee?

Or have you become that,
which, Stolen in this Flight of Darkened Angels
Cross’s the Globe like so many Chagall’s

I Claim Thee Reconciled Spirit.
Beauty standing Upright upon the Wall of Life,
Grace’s Free Giving, standing for  the Citizenship of this World.

Far away, far away
Beneath a wraith of thorns
Not today, not today
I will never forget the scorn

Far below, far below
Under a bouquet of seeds
I must go, I must go
Where mother and son bleed

Not again, not again
The sky will suffer and hate
Far ahead, far ahead
There are ruins lying in wait

Far behind, far behind
Beside corpses twisted in regret
Never again, never again
Should we let the living forget