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Can we see,
or have we lost sight,
of what is wrong,
and what is right.

Are we lost,
or do we know,
where we are,
and where to go.

Propaganda,
and temptation,
both lead you,
to a damnation.

A clear mind,
attempts salvation,
of your thought,
and your temptation.

Are we blind,
to all the lies,
corporations,
we despise.

Feeding them,
aimlessly,
giving them,
our money.

Propaganda,
and temptation,
both lead you,
to a damnation.

A clear mind,
attempts salvation,
of your thought,
and your temptation.

Why are we giving them,
our hard earned money?
For them to horde away,
in endless bank accounts.
For them to use,
against us.
Dangling it above our heads,
giving them power!

Propaganda,
and temptation,
both lead us,
to our damnation.

A clear mind,
attempts salvation,
of our thought,
and our temptation.

Stop giving them money,
that's what they want.
Stop giving them power,
that's what they need.
Copyright Barry Pietrantonio
It was dark and it was wet.
A barrage of raindrops pelted my innocent umbrella.
Woe is me.
Woe is he.
Woe is she.
Woe is everyone.
Who am I to complain?
I looked around.
No one in sight.
So I held me breath.
I closed my eyes.
Blood rushed to my head,
as I slowly turned blue.
It felt good,
then I exploded.
Tiny chunks of raw flesh rained everywhere.
Copyright Barry Pietrantonio
 Jan 2012 The Year
K Balachandran
shaving naked
in front of a mirror,
i try to figure out
the boy whose freedom demanded,
jumping from the high branch of a tree,
to the tumultuos river below,
naked as a jay bird;
and
hear the hum
of passing time,
like a river in spate
in search of the sea of  the tranquility.
 Jan 2012 The Year
K Balachandran
I was painting white, whole last week,
got nothing right.
 Jan 2012 The Year
K Balachandran
electric night,
an unreal moon-
shining like
pouring white wine,
making the air intoxicating;

in the canoe the girl and i
rowing along the calm backwaters.
water birds with snake like necks
mating noisly in water beds
make us curious,

we stopped the canoe,
near a moon lit creeper thatched grove.
the girl was wide eyed
and wild,

caught me by my waist
and said:
'you should have done this first'
( i was a silly idot,
moon struck, with only poetry in my bonnet)

we fell in to that rosy pit,
without an end,
and i got grounded, delighted
hearing her wild ecstatic outburst.
Night number ... ****.
I get it, I’m done for in your eyes.
Please stop doing this to me.
I’m serious.
Don’t drag me along through everything.
This isn’t how I want this to end.
Sleepless night number ... ****.
Why?
Why?


******* why?
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