How does one get the medias attention?
You dont just do the ordinary.
One would go for the extremes.
All in all to make a statement?
To show how powerful one is?

Some create a new toy
Others release a blockbuster movie
Countries might hold elections
And a man will run naked in the streets.
Or maybe...you think bigger.

Destroy a historical landmark,
Run people over with a truck,
Shoot civilians,
Behead people online;
Blow yourself up.

And you managed toget our attention.
You've divided people.
You've also created alliances.
Inflicted hate, rage, anxiety, fear.
You've made your statement

But, after we get used to
The shock, the fear, the terror.
What will you do then?

make your voice heard.

yell until the walls are vibrating.
chant until your ears are ringing.
shout until your head is red and pounding.
scream until they know your story.

for your voice is loud but silent in their ears.
your ideas are sharp but become dull when touched to each closed mind.
you are individually intelligent compared to the conforming unit.

yell harshly but listen humbly.
scream loudly but silently understand.
chant your message but be prepared for retaliation.

your truth is there and your case may be fair,
but no message is received when the deliverer is not competent enough to send it.

Some people,
write from the heart

While others
still, write from life

Still, others
do, think-out first

Yet to,
some, the world; joke.

The World is a Joke.

The Heart, is emotion,

The World is a Joke.

Are you Laughing?

or,

...are you,

Writing?

"Art is devoid of life until imitated."

I wish we had a president
That cared about the populace
Instead of one who's wants the law
To bankrupt almost all of us.
The one we have cares about
Only the super rich and the white.
He’s a ditzy mouthy narcissist
And  for sure that is not right!

It really wasn’t long ago
We went through this kind of fear
And now we are feeling sick
That terror is once again here.
This time we’re not afraid
Of people from another land.
Our country may be dying
But, again it’s by it’s own hand.

Part of it is stupidity and sloth
And part is just evil mindedness,
That either makes us look away
Or make others hate kindness.
Some of our parents trained us
To be big bullies and whiney brats.
And others ******* progress
By dissolving into brainless spats.

I wish we had a president
Like we have had in times gone by
Instead of one who is so happy
To pat his own back, cheat and lie.
It would give us all a chance
To avoid waging another war.
I wish we had a president
That knew what that job was for.

Love blooms in very many colors and shades
Ready to cut beauty in pieces with its blades
Apparently lover and beloved are comrades
But in reality are victim of fits and the raids

Satanic rivals just play all their ***** tricks
Hatred is being developed bricks by bricks
World is full of so called critics and cynics
Still innocent hearts do prefer to sing lyrics

Beauty has just very many shades to present
But in every shape it is beautiful and brilliant
It blooms ,nourishes from moment to moment
Beauty is always fragrant in its real statement

Col Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright 2016 Golden Glow

It's ironic that the only statement soaring through my mind is the query as to how I may shut this thing off...

The burrows of a life inside
of deep and narrow almost lies
until the brave of full disclosure
I live and breathe beneath exposure

A soul its own a natural seed
who struggles in the normalcy
a pace of right that’s set for we
the tribe of unconformity

America the Brave,
did you ever look beyond the porch, and see the smoke?
I have felt each gunshot wound and bookmarked each media news story
and even catalogued some photographs
for you to look over again.
because it seems you have a strange habit of forgetting
all the times
where places that children should be learning and laughing
began to look like cemeteries, the doors closing like a cruel purgatory,
when another **** maniac rages in with a legal firearm –
“mommy, I’m okay, but all my friends are dead.”
red crayons will never look the same—
I’ve found that bleach does not clean out
the stains on the carpet and words alone do not console the masses.

America the Free,
have you heard the terrifying orchestra of screeching tires on pavement?
didn’t you learn that running away is the same as running to meet a date with the reaper?
America, please tell me why
I cannot look for safety in a blue uniform, tell me why
the word “police” inspires more fear and pain
than it stands for justice?
there, in the empty streets, are the echoes of the voices in the night that you failed to hear when the sound of
sirens drowned the world in shades of wrong--
“I can’t breathe.”
“I don’t have a gun, stop shooting.”
“please don’t let me die.”
I stand at the gates between crossroads but nobody looks each other
even if there’s the unspoken truth
that some of us are more likely to be studying obituaries than studying to
be finishing our high school and college degrees.

America the Bold,
  please listen when I tell you that there is a pain you cannot hide
beneath IPhones and reality television,
when all I see is hallowed eyes,
empty hands, and
more parents that shouldn’t have to know
what it’s like to buy caskets in mass production, before they even knew how to read, before they could sing praises of your liberty, before they even had a chance to pray for a different fate, one they actually deserved.

America the Beautiful,
for all your Spacious skies, and amber waves…
have you looked at the ugliness of your ****** palms?