The secret to happiness is freedom... And the secret to freedom is courage.
quote by Thucydides

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Adage 9
'The secret of happiness is freedom.
The secret of freedom is courage.'
Thucydides (460-395 BCE)
if you want to find
the connection
between happiness and
freedom
try this key
of courage
it fits
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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The secret of Happiness is Freedom, and the secret of Freedom, Courage.
quote by Thucydides

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Universal Freedom Is......
Freedom from hunger and freedom from pain
freedom from loss and so freedom from gain.
Freedom to give and freedom to share
freedom from want and that of despair.
Freedom to think and freedom to know
freedom to achieve and freedom to grow.
Freedom from bondage and freedom of liberation
freedom from ignorance and any unknown situation.
Freedom to come and freedom to leave
freedom to stay and freedom to conceive.
Freedom from struggle and freedom of ease
freedom to enjoy and the capacity to please.
Freedom from failure and freedom of success
freedom from denial and freedom of access.
Freedom from illusion and freedom of reality
freedom to become what we are in actuality.
Freedom to live and freedom to die
freedom to laugh and freedom to cry.
Freedom to speak and freedom to listen
freedom to act based on a wise decision.
Freedom from hate and freedom of love
freedom of below and freedom of above.
Freedom of the past and freedom of the present
freedom of the future and what it can represent.
Freedom from war and freedom of peace
freedom to begin and freedom to cease.
Freedom from sickness and freedom of health
freedom from poverty and mishandled wealth.
Freedom from wrong and freedom being right
freedom of the day and freedom of the night.
Freedom to choose and freedom to reject
freedom to imagine what there is to expect.
Freedom from lust and freedom from greed
freedom from anger and freedom from breed.
Freedom from jealousy and freedom from pride
freedom from within and freedom from outside.
Freedom of always not having anything to hide.
Freedom from space and also freedom from time
freedom from attachment and freedom from crime
Freedom to work and freedom to play
freedom to believe and freedom to pray.
Freedom to experience a rebirth someday.
Freedom from the body and freedom from the mind
freedom from the ego and freedom from being blind.
Freedom of transcendence being of the spiritual kind.
Universal freedom is eternal and infinite bliss
we should all therefore be able to realise this.
poem by George Krokos

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Extension 33
Living at the y, extension 33,
Nothing to care or to worry.
Once I was in love with a blind man,
But my auntie told me, dont do it, its not worth it.
Living at the y, 33 years,
No one to call or to write to.
Once I was in love with a married man,
But my instincts told me, dont tell him, itll kill you.
Im sad I didnt marry the blind man,
But whats a life with three blind children?
Im glad I never told the married man,
It saved my pride and freedom.
Living at the y, in 33 rooms,
Nowhere to visit or write to.
Once I was in love, it nearly killed me,
But now I have my pride and freedom.
Freedom, freedom, freedom, freedom,
Freedom, freedom, freedom and pride.
Freedom, freedom, freedom, freedom,
Freedom, freedom, freedom and pride.
Freedom, freedom, freedom, freedom,
Freedom, freedom, freedom and pride.
Freedom, freedom, freedom, freedom,
Freedom, freedom, freedom and pride.
Freedom, freedom, freedom, freedom,
Freedom, freedom, freedom and pride.
Freedom, freedom, freedom, freedom,
Freedom, freedom, freedom.
song performed by by Yoko Ono

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Absolute Freedom
Freedom from within
Freedom to think beyond universe
Freedom from living up to other ideas or expectations
Freedom to stand against all odds
Freedom from gods will
Freedom from triumph and disaster
Freedom from democracy and aristocracy
Freedom from scams and scandals
Freedom from caste, creed and color
Freedom from meaning less dogma
Freedom from fear and hatred
Freedom from life and death
poem by Sunnieyd Inquilab

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352
sad indeed,
there are other freedoms
still
freedom from having no ideas, from this dryness,
freedom from having you
as a poet on forced wit and half-cooked cleverness
freedom from a reader
who has nothing to offer
except his own loneliness
his having nothing to do
freedom from beng bored
to death
freedom from having nothing
to say and comment
freedom from this feeling of emptiness
this bigotry
this indigestion of dumb thoughts
freedom
from impertinence, immateriality, irrelevance,
freedom from thinking about freedom
freedom from freedom itself
there are more
freedom from pain
is useless now
that you are dead.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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And What About Freedom?
sad indeed,
there are other freedoms still
freedom from having no ideas, from this dryness,
freedom from having you
as a poet on forced wit and half-cooked cleverness
freedom from a reader
who has nothing to offer
except his own loneliness
his having nothing to do
freedom from long bored
to death
freedom from having nothing
to say and comment
freedom from this feeling of emptiness
this bigotry
this indigestion of dumb thoughts
freedom from impertinence, immateriality, irrelevance,
freedom from thinking about freedom
freedom from freedom itself
there are more
freedom from pain
is useless now
that you are dead.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Did You Say That Your Only Freedom From Pain Is Death?
sad indeed,
there are other freedoms
still
freedom from having no ideas, from this dryness,
freedom from having you
as a poet on forced wit and half-cooked cleverness
freedom from a reader
who has nothing to offer
except his own loneliness
his having nothing to do
freedom from beng bored
to death
freedom from having nothing
to say and comment
freedom from this feeling of emptiness
this bigotry
this indigestion of dumb thoughts
freedom
from impertinence, immateriality, irrelevance,
freedom from thinking about freedom
freedom from freedom itself
there are more
freedom from pain
is useless now
that you are dead.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Freedom Is…
Freedom…
Freedom…
What is freedom?
It’s a footprint in the sand…
A whisper on the wind.
It’s a thought…
An emotion.
It’s a choice…
A gift.
Freedom is what freedom is.
Freedom is a pot on the stove…
The water in a glass.
It’s a smile on a mouth…
A tear on the cheek.
It’s a choice…
A gift.
Freedom is what freedom is.
Freedom is a breeze in your hair…
The heat in the air.
It’s the heart in your chest…
The veins in your arms.
It’s a choice…
A gift.
Freedom is what freedom is.
What is freedom?
Freedom is what freedom is.
poem by Stacey Stevens

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Law Is Freedom
Law is freedom
Not a kind of fake made freedom
Or an abusive wild freedom
Not a narrow minded follower
Or blurred ruler
Law is freedom
A freedom that obeyed
With full consciousness and responsibility
A freedom to do and to not do
And know the consequences
Law is freedom
A solid freedom
Not a tool of terror
A freedom to live
Not to conquer it
poem by Maria Sudibyo

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The secret of freedom lies in educating people, whereas the secret of tyranny is in keeping them ignorant.
quote by Maximilien Robespierre

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Where's The Freedom And Justice?
where's the freedom and justice?
trapped behind bars
watching lightning fast cars
where's the freedom and justice?
why keep hope
when happiness pops like soap
where's the freedom and justice?
cant breathe
cant leave
where's the freedom and justice?
hate misery
hate mystery
where's the freedom and justice?
you get raped
get interviewed on tape
where's the freedom and justice?
goes to court
but his bad luck is not the unlucky sort
where's the freedom and justice?
he get's away
i like an idea that's revenge is a way!
where's the freedom and justice?
poem by Tesla Blackburn

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Freedoms.
Freedom to write...
Freedom to swear.
Freedom of the right...
Here or there.
Freedom to vote...
To give your views in note.
Freedom to sing...
To wear a ring.
Freedom to talk...
About, most any thing.
Freedom to eat and drink...
Even free to not bathe, and maybe even unusually stink.
Freedom to think...
And form opinions.
Freedom to judge...
Even if someone thinks you wreak.
poem by Michael Gale

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The Song of Freedom - A Prayer Reflection on Mee Kamocha
When did we leave Egypt
And when did Egypt leave us?
When were the chains of slavery broken
And when did we finally truly feel free?
Freedom came in steps
It was part of the journey
From Egypt to Canaan
Our people took
And we can still take.
Freedom is courage and hope and clear vision
Freedom is walking to places we can’t see
Freedom in knowing that we can find food in the desert
Freedom is feeling safe though our houses are booths.
Freedom is choosing good rules to live by
And freedom is singing our very own song.
So with Moses and Miriam and all those who went with them
With all those before us who brought us to today
We still sing these words, our first words of freedom
'Freedom is having no sovereign but God.”
10/12/2003
poem by Lewis Eron

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Freedom
What does freedom really mean?
My mother letting me make decisions,
That is freedom.
The ability to make my own passion,
That is freedom.
Smiling when I want to not someone else does,
That is freedom.
My own love for my family,
That is freedom.
Being able to have a great time without being pressured,
That is freedom.
Having a destiny that is up to me,
That is freedom.
Being able to sit in tranquility by myself,
That is freedom.
Standing for my country with liberty on my own will,
That is what freedom really is.
poem by Bethany Maxwell

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My Definition Of Freedom
what a simple word.
sweet to the lips yet costs to attain. Who amongst u is really free
Do u even know what it is to be free?
What is ur definition of freedom?
Is it being loose and giving ur body to anyone withiout consensus?
Then how do u percieve feeedom?
Is it despising morals, ethics, respect and correction?
Is that ur meaning of Freedom?
Let me break it down for u.
Freedom, my Freedom, our freedom. Freedom is knowing the extents to wich God went to save ur life but still have respect for humanity.
Freedom is knowing that u don live under law but grace and still cling to this grace.
Freedom is to know that ur records of wrongs have been erased but u still strive for perfecion.
Freedom, My Freedom, Our Freedom.
My freedom is not a vote.
My freedom is not a govt designed system and terminology but My Freedom is the son of God. My Freedom is he who overcame death.
My Freedom is he who was before the beggining began. Freedom My Freedom Our Freedom is Jesus.
poem by Mbaimbai Phathutshedzo

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Freedom Doesnt
freedom doesnt starve it's children,
freedom doesnt sell it's people into slavery.
freedom doesnt see skin color,
doesnt always speak english.
freedom doesnt have one religion.
freedom doesnt choose sexual preference.
freedom doesnt regulate love.
freedom doesnt trade joblessness for profit.
freedom doesnt take your home.
freedom doesnt create reservations, slums,
and low rent trailer parks.
freedom doesnt ban books.
freedom doesnt invade and conquer.
freedom doesnt trade blood for oil.
freedom doesnt imprison those it cannot use.
freedom doesnt live by the lie.
freedom doesnt have different levels of justice,
depending on how much money you have.
freedom doesnt abandon it's elderly.
freedom doesnt turn away the sick.
freedom doesnt kill in the name of god.
freedom doesnt lie about the past.
damn it to hell!
this doesnt smell like freedom!
poem by Eric Cockrell

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On the Innate Drive For What is Right
As life bled, martyrdom flared its buds.
Repression, red from irritation,
Rendered chinks and cracks; but thuds of
Armament - in cowardice - accomplice of the
Dictatorial blight thro' countless years -
Wreaked its retribution:
Yet hope began to bloom a coloured carapace
Enshrining their allegiance ‘gainst the
Terror in their tears.
And on! Splits yawned - breaches in the junta:
Flesh fought fanatical minds -
Bullets welcomed into open hands
And blessed with yearnings for morality:
Chiselled man-toys of death and mutilation
Couldn't repel the might of freedom
Surging at the bright horizon.
Crepuscular rays of purpose, body,
Flooded pandemonium with
Overwhelming clarity, direction -
Burdened clouds drifting wayward as the
Light channelled out a vision,
Intensifying focus on tomorrow -
Deepen their stride
As they home in to
What is theirs,
Rightfully theirs!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011
The reign of justice and freedom
justice justice justice justice justice justice justice justice
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justice justice justice justice justice justice justice justice
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justice justice justice justice justice justice justice justice
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freedom freedom freedom freedom freedom freedom
poem by Mark R Slaughter

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A new freedom
Everybody wants to fly as a bird,
Nobody wants to remain in chains,
Because everyone has a new freedom to live merrily,
But some cruel take our freedom away
And make us their slave.
Freedom is a god gifted gift
Which nobody can destroy from this earth.
Freedom is not made for rich
But for innocent poor dwelling in slums.
Freedom means peace and love
Not fear around us.
Freedom is what brings a nice smile
On everybody’s face.
Freedom knows no boundary
Of happiness and sprinkles its grace
On everyone wonderfully.
Freedom knocks at every door
And kisses everyone in the early morning
As a nightingale sings its lovely hymn for each person.
Freedom walks from door to door
To visit so that no one
Can be deprived of it.
poem by Tanya Naidoo

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To A Silvereye
I see you almost every day you fly from tree to tree
And I envy you your happiness for you are wholly free
You tiny insect eating bird in olive fawn and gray
And I feel glad so very glad to see you every day.
No boss to order you around to tell you what to do
Wish you were me dear tiny bird and wish that I were you
For you have freedom in your wings the freedom of the sky
And I envy you your happiness dear tiny silvereye.
On garden tree and green hedgerow close to the homes of men
I see you almost every day you and your tiny kin
From garden tree to garden tree and to and fro you wing
And midst the leaves the sunlit leaves you preen and chirp and sing.
I see you almost every day from tree to tree you fly
And I envy you your happiness the freedom of the sky
And I've a wish a secret wish when my turn come to die
That I will come to life again a tiny silvereye.
poem by Francis Duggan

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