We know the road to freedom has always been stalked by death.
quote by Angela Davis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Freedom’s Road
For all those who fight on freedom's road.
Hear the cries on freedom’s road above the cannon’s roar
See the faces of anguish in the tide of war
See the smoke, smell the cordite
That covers the dying, ten thousand and more
Innocence dies a lonely death on any battlefield
Boys turn to men and are slaughtered by the score
How can we stop all these wicked wars
Mothers and widows weep the bitter tears of grief
There is no easy path to take when you fight on freedom’s road
poem by David Harris
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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On The Road To Freedom
It must be a winding road
On the road to freedom
Freedom not to hurt other people
Freedom with kind words to share
Not to look down, but to lift us up higher
It is not too late..give it a try..
poem by Meggie Gultiano
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A Rose To Remember....
i am reading about the death of a rose
i am reflecting about
death of freedom
it is all about a rose, a wilting rose, a brown rose,
a dry rose
each petal falling softly on the ground
a dry ground full of sand and pebbles
all footprints covered
abandoned, i am talking
about the death of a rose, the death of the freedom of the rose
the death of freedom, the rose of death, the freedom of death,
is it you now that i talk about? that i must remember?
have i met you before when i was but a thorn, a worm, a leaf?
was i the sand
a pebble, the wind? will you be a rose forever?
is there death in you?
i feel the wind, i smell the rose,
there is no death....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I’m On My Road,
I’m on my road,
I’m on my road,
To anywhere!
With never a heart,
With never a care;
Got my home;
Got my land;
Singing my song of freedom
On the road,
Somewhere!
I’ve got to walk,
I’ve got to march,
I’ve got to dare;
Under the clouds,
Looming and bare;
With my hand,
Playing a band,
Singing my song of freedom
On the road,
Somewhere!
poem by John Celes
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A Road Called Life, End Is Death
when i was a child, i did not know this road
i did not recognize its existence
but now, i know the name of this road is 'life'
and end of it is death, and death only
no escape, and no exception
death might seem to be scary
cruel, and painful as it seems
but as experience, courage, and
age all added up as they will always be
death becomes an acceptable agreement that
when finish walking down this road
we shall get rid of our bloody shell
gently follow our Father to where we've always belonged
now, isn't death not horrifying anymore?
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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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
justice justice justice justice justice justice justice justice
justice justice justice justice justice justice justice justice
freedom freedom freedom freedom freedom freedom
freedom freedom freedom freedom freedom freedom
justice justice justice justice justice justice justice justice
justice justice justice justice justice justice justice justice
freedom freedom freedom freedom freedom freedom
freedom freedom freedom freedom freedom freedom
freedom freedom freedom freedom freedom freedom
freedom freedom freedom freedom freedom freedom
freedom freedom freedom freedom freedom freedom
justice justice justice justice justice justice justice justice
justice justice justice justice justice justice justice justice
freedom freedom freedom freedom freedom freedom
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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I would rather Freedom
I would rather a much better place,
A place of sanity,
Far away from the phantoms of ghostly shadows,
Far away from the phantasmagoria of knives and death,
Far away for the chocking disgudting stench,
of sweat and feces,
of contaminated air,
of blood,
of diseases and death
I would rather a place of decency,
And that place is freedom,
Oh Freedom! freedom,
Freedom for the scaring stare of my cellmate,
Freedom from the brutal touch of the guard,
Freedom from the hardwork for no pay!
I would rather freedom,
I am going to freedom, To my people,
To make love to my woman,
To give love to my children,
To eat the food that's got some taste,
And bath in clean cold water,
And I will not mock them,
I will let them know my side of the story,
And I hope this time the wheel of justice will not spin in favour of those who have money and land,
Not even those who know the judge,
But justice in truth and FREEDOM!
poem by Olunga Otieno
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It's Death Again
It's Death again - He's always there -
Watching, waiting - e'er the stare!
Every time I look behind
Or reach to pull the window blind,
I catch a glimpse of grubby hood -
A little clue to where he stood;
The glint of light that caught the scythe.
Perhaps if I could pay a tithe…
But O! no use, he'll never go.
The adamant phantom; don't you know
He will but wait until it's time
For me to hear His fateful chime? -
The toll that claims my destiny,
To Hail: 'You're next, it has to be…'
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
The Reign of Death
Death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Stylee sex
Freedom
of female...
wanted too
Walk on the road...
At only...
Bra...
With undre wear...
Feel free like
This freedom wanted
For most morden female's...
This is not
Freedom of females...
Only at only...
Dressing freedom
Sexly take them...
With style sex...?
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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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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Freedom To Or Freedom From?
Power aims
at Freedom To;
finds itself
on a collision course
with all the other Freedoms To
that inhabit gods and men and beast;
storm and drought and pestilence;
sickness, old age and death.
Wisdom aims
for Freedom From
discovers that all the competing Freedom To's
struggle within the stadium of life
and win and lose and win and lose
and lose at last at the gates
of old age and death.
Discovers that he who enters not
the arena of the breath
suffers no loss and dies no death.
poem by Brian Taylor
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The Blessed Peace of Freedom
The blessed peace of freedom rings for all
Mankind, but only as a dream; a world
Of fantasy where make believe competes
For equal time. We dream of freedom's peace,
But in reality, there is no peace.
The chains of slavery cling fast to our
Subdued reality. Afraid we move
As programmed robots do, unwilling to
Accept that peace and freedom figments are
Of our imagination's roadless dream.
Oh road of freedom's peace, how can we find
Your way? 'Look to yourselves', the road will say.
'Don't seek me in the man made maps, but seek
Me in your hearts, the realm of our true Love;
The only hope of man's eventual Peace.'
Love is the key to open Freedom's way:
And with it Peace will shine triumphantly.
We, Love must trust, if we will Freedom seek.
The chains will broken be, and Peace will fill
The lives of all Mankind eternally.
poem by Jamie Sidwell
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It Is Easy To Buy Death Here
It’s very easy to buy death here
And in more ways than one
No prejudice to your origin
Or your virtue, for that matter
In fact, it was two half brothers
That sought for the contract
Now the market is flooded
And the rates cheaper than usual
Death is bought by a mere slander
It’s very easy to buy death here
Cheap as the freedom they seek
If people around you mumble
As you go for the final deal
It is, but for a fleeting moment
They will forget once you are gone
Is it their bliss, the price declines?
And for those seekers, that inclines
No matter, death is a freedom away
imti Longchar
* to all the innocents killed by the two warring factions in the name of freedom in this state.
poem by imti Longchar
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