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Marge Redelicia May 2014
your ears are jammed with
energetic beats and good melodies
though accompanied with
lyrical lies that
distort
our views on what really matters and
define
who we are and how we should be.

and your eyes:
glued to the screen
as you await to see
if your face
is worth enough of those
tiny blue thumbs up.

but
you've absorbed
too much nonsense and radiation
from those handheld contraptions that
you have grown
too deaf and too blind
to see anything beyond yourself

but I say that it is time that you
look up,
open your eyes,
and see
His holy
glory setting upon
our minds waking
our hearts stirring
our passion blazing
our generation rising
our people fighting
our nation triumphing

look up,
open your eyes,
and see that
hope is alive and abundant!
because Hope is with us,
Hope is in us, and
Hope is through us.

all these chaos is translating
into something beautiful and exciting
so come
look up,
open your eyes,
and see.
I'm honored to be a part of this nation and this generation. Mabuhay tayong lahat!
Criss Jami May 2014
This is the core of industries
It's crazy oh you see assemblies before ores fall in the streets but
It's all for you and me

A steampunk nation
Baby pollution rises up then the loving comes arraigning 'cause
Our art's official and only partially artificial
And our heart's in the middle of sharp hardened shards of metal but
There's not where it settles
Because it's beating to the steaming of God's hottest *** or kettle

And now we face it, this creation we made to
To save our craving for a synthetic rebelnation it's
Our safeway they make into a pathetic revelation
In our steampunk nation
Our steampunk nation

It's places having creation
But with black metal makings
And wordsmith's an occupation like phrase on paper's the way we say she's
Making our hearts start raving and baby maybe even raging for
For beaming metals and
Yeah steaming kettles, Meccas of our cyberstation Hades

And now we face it, this creation we made to
To save our craving for a synthetic rebelnation it's
Our safeway they make into a pathetic revelation
In our steampunk nation
Our steampunk nation

Oh how do we face it, this creation we made to
To save our craving for a synthetic rebelnation it's
Our safeway they make into a pathetic revelation
In a steampunk nation
A steampunk nation
Harkaran Apr 2014
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
''The nation which forgets its defenders will be itself forgotten.'' -Calvin Coolidge
Saddam Husen Apr 2014
THE POET AND ITS VERSE

No legion or religion can hold my vision
Any legislative can’t cease my verse
Born free I am a motion
No language or nation can bind my fluctuation.

I am petals of dear flowers
I have fragrant of sweetness
But I lived it for other
For little happiness
And for world peremptoriness
I wonder if when Thomas Jefferson scrawled out the Declaration he could see the world that I have come to know.

I wonder if he would understand the nation that would blossom from under his inflammatory words.

Would he know that the world would never be so simple as black and white if only because a racial lawsuit might come from it?

Would he see the world burn up in a digital fire that no nostalgia would ever be able to quench?

Would he know the society that would simultaneously spew rantings of "You're special" and "You are never going to be right enough to live here"?

How about that war that taught the people that it's okay to hate those who fight so that you can love another day?

Or even the world that has severed so deeply within its own walls that you can only hold on to you hearts and hope that might not be severed too?

I wonder what this man could have been declaring so seriously that he would send men to war for it, just to have the papers he and his dear friends were writing on be the shield that politicians might use to prevent their fallout.

Freedom is not objective. And Subjectively speaking, this freedom we've been given comes with about ten thousand terms and conditions that none of us are going to read anyway because this is Amurica and we don't do that here.

— The End —