|Why not?Page 1 of 1 |
|Well I think it's kind of masturbatory to start your own poetry thread, I'm doing it anyways, cause I'm bored and I have the lube so, here's a couple to start off with. :P|
You allow moral dilettantes to represent you to the world, and pretend it’s not your fault
You allow their ethical deficit to define your justice
Though you love being part of a nation where you are free to choose
You believe everyone has a right to be free
But not free to be governed by their own beliefs
Not free to be dissimilar, or difficult to understand
Nor to seek retaliation, nor reparation, nor recognition
For the damage inflicted, by those you freely chose to lead you
Nor free to be equal, if they were conceived beyond your arbitrary horizons
You allow a race to be condemned for the actions of a few
And turn away those who are truly not free
You smear your face with whale fat
And rail about problems which are abstract to you
You could never imagine that you are the worlds biggest problem
You think being born ‘free’ entitles you to judge
To judge people for whom ‘freedom’ is as abstract an existence
As poverty is to you
What seeds have you sown, to deny them shade?
What flags have you raised, to deny them sovereignty?
What truths have you learned, to deny them their faith?
What struggles have you known, to deny them peace?
Who are you to mourn a soldier but not the people they have murdered?
Who are you to seek vengeance for a friend,
When you paid for the bomb that killed another’s family?
When you changed the channel to Days Of Our Lives
When you saw it explode on TV
Your government is the embodiment of its people
It’s grasping hands reached to far
One curled into a fist, to hold a sword
To butcher innocents, unprovoked
And you really feel surprised
That those who would have a role to play in their peoples destiny
Instead of being apathetic and feeling entitled to all the world
Would seek to dismember it?
Of course you are; you feel betrayed
Your back was turned
Because the other hand was full of vehicles, cell phones, alcohol and money
All just for you
You attention was occupied
How could you be expected to turn around and see
The no longer loamy fields from which they were torn?
How could you be expected to think
You would anger those with nothing
When you seize what little they have
After all, their problems are only a concept for you
Tears could not nourish the desert
Rhetoric could not vindicate your soul
Any atrocity done in your name is validated if you do nothing about it
And since God has done nothing about those done in his
He is just as despicable as you.
Posted: 7/23/2007 4:08:46 PM
|Who numbers most among the dead?|
Soldiers, their lives all washed in red?
Men with all their hair trigger pride?
Miniorities, they, among all who have died.
Who are the ones who best know death?
Victims of cocaine, speedballs and meth?
Women, their hearts which so readily break?
Finite victims of his numberless take.
Does his calloused grasp favour the good?
Or the malign as you may think he should?
Few people fall into these absolutes
For Death pulls out life straight from its roots.
Though surely criminals deserve it most
The world is filled with upright ghosts
Legions die of advanced old age
But youth is a far more deadly cage
Some who are taken are merely conceived
But a host of causes define the bereaved
Of all of us wretches who meet our end
Children by far are Deaths closest friend