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United We Stand
Divided... We Have Fallen
Balance is the Key To a Better Way....
So why isn't the Balancing beam being set up....for a success and a brighter day?
A Volcano of lies
Lava Scolds the Truthful and the Innocent
Sitting on our hands
We merely die like lost sea creatures boiling on the sands..
Of life's Symbiont energies peacefully brimming with  healing purpose and fluid intelligence to heal our Misguided people from destruction..
The Oceans push their waters .. harder then harder
As the Gods of Fortune, Health, and Care..
Buddha's tears fill a great portion of the ocean.. devotion...
We must stop and bath in these waters..gifts of nature,,,
End the senseless ignorance and violence,,,
Becoming who we know we can be..
Gentle creatures over-flowing with gleaming gifts of solution and equal distribution of rights and softer tolerance.
Until the Volcano is put to sleep with truth's song...
Until the destruction of a great world comes...
At the rate and on the road on which we have traveled, wrongly, down...
The time until the Vengeance of our Angry and Devine Creator, upon us, his wrath shall be seen quickly and deeply strong.
We, as a free and gifted world, should united and see the gifts of our creator signaled to end the suffering of ignorance. Self made unneeded trials.  Not just in government and this "migration violence" "drug dilemma" the world is a beautiful place..if we unite and work, listen, and care as one. Together.
Marg Balvaloza Dec 2018
makulay na damdamin para sa'yo ay di pa rin kumukupas,
ako’y bihag ng pag-ibig mo, gustong-gusto ko ng tumakas
ang pusong nahimbing na sa pagtulog ay wag mo ng gisingin,
sa aking magandang panaginip, ayaw ko ng bangungutin

© LMLB
I'm all ready to give you up, forget you and ignore you. In fact, I'm half way there not caring about you. But you were always there to confuse me and bring me back to my senses. Why you're so good at destroying every part of me and attacking my whole vulnerability, waking my old feelings up, right when I'm almost there, moving on? Oh, please. Don't be the nightmare on my peaceful daydream.
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
My people want freedom
My people want peace
Our leaders are corrupt they do not lead
All man are born free
For us its a myth
We are all leashed
Unshackle us
Set us free
All men are born free and equal, and have certain natural, essential, and unalienable rights; among which may be reckoned the right of enjoying and defending their lives and liberties; that of acquiring, possessing, and protecting property; in fine, that of seeking and obtaining their safety and happiness (UNIVERSAL HUMAN RIGHTS OF MEN  DECLARATION)
Girard Tournesol Nov 2018
Vinnie had the confidence of a roman statue.  His emerald-isle-fiery-red-hair belied a family heritage that had emigrated to The Promised Land from Northern Italy, not Northern Ireland.  What few friends he had called him “Little Red Ferrari” or LRF for his fiery red temper and uber-ancestral pride.  

Tonight’s rain in Freedomville meant wintrymix.  Vinnie had just been 86’d from the German Brauhaus and now LRF was driving his Pontiac Aztec home at wintrymix+.08 speed,  Statue of Liberty proudly gorilla-glued to his dashboard.  

His mind couldn’t quite process the dark wretched masses to be a family out walking the road at this hour in these tempest-tossed conditions.  He pulled over, flashers blinking, lamps high.  The golden door of his Aztec opened, LRF-adrenaline pumping. What were they thinking?

“Sir, we are hungry,” (señor, we are hong-ree), the man said as wintrymix pelted them. The children—smiled?

What are they thinking/doing, in some human way, suddenly felt like nonsense.  These poor huddled people in freezing-wet clothing were here, hong-ree.

Vinnie’s mind saw his own pride in them.  What courage! This man’s people built pyramids!

“Vieni qui,” Vinnie said in Italian pointing to the Aztec hoping it was close enough.  It was close enough.
Flash fiction entry to Plazm Magazine contest, "Opposite of Hate."  Winning the contest is not the point.  As writers, contribution to the higher purpose is our reward.  Participation our Victory.
I can not fight back
I won’t listen when they tell me that
I can do this,  i can rebel, i can reach freedom.
Liberty
Is something i don’t believe in but instead i trust
Obedience
Reading
Is useless, what enlightens the mind is
Instruction
“Long live big brother”
I say, and  I refuse to believe
We don’t need  a leader that controls our perception of information
Conform.
Do not try to  
Rebel.
The population needs to
Trust that
The leader knows what’s right
Its naive to assume
I can fight back
read top to bottom, then bottom to top, opposite messages will be revealed
Arianna Oct 2018
I have sailed upon the tossing seas,
And seen the sunsets turned to wine;
I’ve watched the waves lap ravenously,
Those suns down from the blazing sky.

Beneath the brilliant stars on deck,
The ivory-winged sail-birds soaring high overhead,
I’ve anticipated the shadows of mystery worlds
Peering inquiringly over the tides, as a child from her bed.

Day breaks, and I wander foreign shores once more,
But the lustre of Morning gleams wan;
I pass avenues of roses, eerily sure
Of having passed them already countless times before.

Day falls like clockwork,
Night’s indigo blood drips once more
Through the heavens.

                               But Blue is eternal.

Nightfall-Nightbreak,
Daybreak,
Heartbreak...

All are consumed
In the madness of the Sea,
Throwing herself against the rocks
And shattering:

                                         High-tide suicide.

The ivory-winged sail-birds
Hang listless:

                                                   Lost.

                       No sea-breath buoys them upon the air,
                           Nor current bears me here or there.

Not here,
        Not there,
                 Upon the sea ⸺

                                             Not anywhere
                                             Is home to me.

But had I wings
To call my own,
I’d cut those angelbirds free;

And far from earthly seas we would fly,
Darting and dizzy between the planets whirling
Across the Universe
Venturing

Until,
Weary with wandering,

D
           r
                   i
               f
                         t
                                  Motionless:

                 ­                           Paper cranes

                                    In death dream

                                                         ­ Vertigo.
Lynnia Oct 2018
It was our fathers’ independence
Not quite passed down to their descendants
These “We The People” days were through
Long before our world came to
And now we breathe and bleed our rights
Always ready for a fight
People screaming through the streets
Bullets from a single tweet
The American Dream so lovingly kept
Drowned in Liberty’s tears as she softly wept
Left and Right at constant war
Raging, always craving more
We tear at all the different ones;
Turn our faces from the Son
If this is what it means to be free,
say goodbye to Liberty.
Pauper of Prose Sep 2018
I’d conjure Fall leaves to follow you
Bright hues, radiant in gold and plum
And they’ll speak of what magic I’ve done
I’d seem like a great wizard tis is true
But such magic would barely compare at all
To your gaze which causes my chest to fall
From Helios heights where frost doesn’t thaw
Where **** and love’s leaflets languish like law
Where passion’s ruthless river is rushing raw
From this endangered emotive environment I fall
And naturally I then tumble from my studied reason
But luckily Fall is my favorite season
Finally the first day of Fall!
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