I shouldnt know your name I didn't ask.

Your smile heals my spirit but crushes my body.

These words I've kept from you are yours to take.

Here take my edelweiss. Its yours to burn.

My flesh is yours to carve and sow.

My pain is yours, take it slow.

Take your time and enjoy the show.

When I'm gone laugh out loud.

Bury my bones beneathe the cloud.

Leave no mark, or gift for my passing.

Just tell me your name is all I'm asking.
I wanted you to be perfect and flawless.
I wanted  to be
Envied by other men
For having  you
In my life,
But you lost your tolerance for me
And found a man
Who knew the limits of his own knowledge….
A fellow much less arrogant
Than me.
Poem inspired by this photo taken in Mexico by Pato Bejar on 500px.
Three thousand children
That have no home.
Three thousand children
Are suffering alone.
Three thousand children
Whose parents suffer
Three thousand children
Missing their mothers.

How many children
Do we now have to feed
When the president said
They’re all bad seeds?
How did these babies
And these adolescent kids
Get accused of what they
Nor their parents ever did?

How can a country that
Brags it’s the land of the free
Perpetuate such a craven
Too Nazi-like villainy?
It squanders public funds
On bogus personal causes
Then hides it's thievery
Inside twisted legal clauses.

Three thousand babies
Locked up like animals
Inside pens like Dobermans;
And they are the criminals?
Their parents broke laws
That are just misdemeanors
So, they are beaten and then
They’re taken to the cleaners?

Meanwhile their children
Are kidnapped and hidden
By a Justice department that
Does the evil they are bidden.
That this kind of sick behavior
Exists in our country’s name
Is more than just our personal,
It’s also our national shame.
Wanderer Jul 7
The disappointment of your own mistakes
Is greater than any let down from a friend
It is a cruel reminder that sometimes
you aren't capable of accomplishing
everything you set out to do
and that sometimes its yourself that gets in the way
and the worst part is you have no one to blame
Well maybe it’s a shame in the weekend
To toil aimlessly about dreams in bed
Counting sheep only lasts for so long
And maybe it’s a shame to waste the day

Someday we’ll be alive
More than we are right now
Someday we’ll start a fight
Let’s end our show with a bow

And we’ll close it out with a round of applause
They’ll look to us
Because we’ll be their stars
Right now we’re young and we’ll never grow old
But even if we do
We stand with the bold
The Millennials' Anthem
Aa Harvey Jul 6
History Repeats Itself

America is the same as Britain:
Not enough good and too much bad.

I think we should actually listen to The United Nations,
If we really want peace in our time.
Do what thou wilst, for we are clearly ignorant,
To anything except The Law of Lies.

The laws of life?  
The Law of the Jungle is our only Bible in this time.
It’s a shame we didn’t think of the cost,
Before we committed the crime.

Our life time is just the same as the others:

History repeats itself!
History repeats itself!
History repeats itself!  
Revelation!  Discovery!
Go ahead and preach your own story.

If you ask me which faith you should follow,
I’ll simply give you a different answer, today and tomorrow.
For if you realize, what I have discovered,
Then you shall maybe have your own thoughts
And use your knowledge for guidance.

Have you own thoughts,
Understand what they thought they taught.
Then make yourself happy, by making them happy
And leave the pain to someone else.

The United Nations are the good guys;
They will save our world.
The USA and the UK
Cannot even see past their own borders.
If every other nation in the world joined the UN.
Would Britain and the USA say you’re all wrong…again?

(C)2011 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Autmn T Jul 5
You demanded me to rip a bandaid off an open wound while it was still bleeding. Blood soaked and dried, stuck to my body, staining my curtains, clothes, pillows. Not even being able to lay my head down without being reminded of blood spilt without a shield to save myself from the pestilence the world holds. Rotten, stiff air infecting us all slowly.
Written while reflecting about someone telling me to "rip the bandaid off" to move on from loving them although, months after, Im still not healed.
We don't need no goddamn Human Rights!
If a woman gets raped
At a Fourth of July party,
What the Hell is the difference?!
Whatever it takes
To Make America Great!
It started out as an innocent fall.
A folly to solve something inside.
It burned me.
It hurt me.
Now I die when I’m awake.
Feels like my livelihood’s at stake.
How can I be a man
When the mirror brings me down, jeering…

Don’t fight it,
Learn to love it.
I saved you,
I built you.
I raised you

You try to save the day for yourself.
You try to hide the pain for your health.

Now to the mirror with the reprobate frame of mind,
I hold the hammer that shatters you and your kind.
I won’t hide,
But I will cry
If that’s what takes me home.
You won’t win,
I’m up again.
Broken shards to atone.
When the mirror shows you your darkest self...
Carla really LOVED to pose naked online,
And she deeply APPRECIATED
All the praise she received from Men
And some Women as well
For her sexy body.
Her friend since childhood,
A Minister's Daughter
Didn't approve of her pastime.
One day,
Andrea told Carla
"When you pose naked like That online,"
"Don't you feel like a Whore?"
Carla had long been prepared for Andreas slut shaming,
And responded rapidly.
"I would feel more like a whore"
"If I adopted the guilt and shame"
"That comes with your stupid religion"
"Just to please you."
"Your god"
"Is a jerk!"
This poem is an edit of "I don't believe in your God", which I posted in June, 2016.
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