Morality becomes hypocrisy if it means accepting mothers' suffering or dying in connection with unwanted pregnancies and illegal abortions and unwanted children.
quote by Gro Harlem Brundtland
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Unwanted
Unwanted again even as a freind.
No use for an old useless louse.
Unwanted and blamed for your breathtaking game,
of stress and demand which I've been slightly guilty at hand.
So Tired of all this remorse and unwanted guilt.
I can't take anymore why won't someone take my life to kill.
Unwanted and uneeded for years I have pleaded for something new.
Unwanted, unwated
where or when will I find a respondendt.
To just give me a chance for a bright glorious dance.
To let me know that I'm no longer a freak show.
To have and hold so victorious and bold.
Yet forever more I shall remain Unwanted.
poem by Michael McParland
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Unwanted Number
You should hear the things that they say about me
Theyre saying shes no better than she needed to be
They dont know that he was kind and strong and tender
And now Ill never be another unwanted number
Unwanted number
How can I tell them?
How can I express?
How it felt to step out of this life and into his embrace
How can I tell them?
How can I explain?
All the love that I never had I found in him
There may be a stain on the family name
And if my father was here I think I know who hed blame
Mama says that he just doesnt care to remember
And all he thinks of me is another unwanted number
Unwanted number
(how can I tell her?
How can I express?
How it felt when he came to my room
And helped me to undress
What can she tell me?
How can I believe
That she really didnt hear me cry
When he wouldnt leave? )
Theres a local game where they whisper my shame
They say he gave her his child
He wouldnt give her his name
They will torture me from january till september
And soon theres going to be another unwanted number
Unwanted number
Unwanted number
And I will give my love to another unwanted number
Unwanted number
Unwanted number
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Runaway
The commands
The rules
The suffering
The pain
a smoker 'cause it 'soothes' the pain
Depressed from the scandals
An unplanned pregnacy
unwanted?
Feels that way...
Feels like I'm Cinderella
The stress and pain makes me want to commit suicide
The only one who seems to care..
Is the one who abandoned me at 7
Feels like I'm in prison
As i walk away to start a new life of my own, a new person
I wonder if I'll be missed
Wanting to be my own person
You tried to kill my streak of Independence
Your attitude gave me unwanted charactaristics
You criticized my body...
While I was trying to accept me for me...
I have to get away from the accusing glances
I have to runaway...
poem by Jessica Harrington
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Unwanted Guests
A mansion is built.
And unwanted guests,
Are reported to reside inside.
And there are those who claim,
This was not known.
Even though the unwanted guests,
Entertained, prepared the meals...
As well as took suggestions as to what to serve,
For choices of dessert.
And...
Tucked them all in bed at night!
To then leave,
On their own...
To wander freely around the mansion!
And yet,
It has been declared...
The guests who wandered freely around the mansion,
Were unwanted.
AND...
No one will admit,
They knew a mansion existed.
Nor have a clue who built it,
Or 'how' it got there.
I live on a fixed income.
And my every move is watched.
Even my approach to await a coming bus,
At a public bustop...
Is monitored as suspicious.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Prior to ROE V. WADE, abortions were common even though they were illegal. I don't think making them illegal again is going to solve the problem.
quote by Tony Campolo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The images I like best are parts of series that I've started, in some cases, with the pregnancies of the mothers of the children in question, and I continue that series right on through the birth of children to the child that resulted from that first pregnancy.
quote by Jock Sturges
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Fetus Speaks
How sweet the Autumn breeze
Wafting from my window
Before this Winter freeze
I can see skies are blue;
But how would I know
Or how will I
In truth, I lie
Even as poets do,
Saying life is a race:
How could I win? My chance is lame
How could I lose? I did not play
I could not even see the game,
Because I never came to be.
"To be or not to be"
To me is not a question, never
"To be or not to be"
I was not asked, how could I answer
I am sort of outlawed;
There are many others
Or, maybe, disallowed
By choice of some mothers;
Or, unwanted, in a sense
I could not be Jesse James
To be "Wanted: Dead Or Alive"
Instead, I was led to contrive:
"Unwanted: Dead Or Not Alive"
Could I be just cells as hinted,
Which could be eliminated?
By pills, or prescription,
Forceps or incision,
Herbal concoction,
Lethal injection?
Rules may stop humans from dying,
And could keep one from existing,
If so, make this my epitaph
Maybe, with a small stone seraph:
Here lies John Doe
One of this Earth
But none would know
His date of birth;
And as facts are dim
In a scene of violence
Was he the victim
Or maybe, the evidence?
This, my friend, is my proposal
If accorded proper burial
And not proper waste disposal.
poem by Reyvrex Questor Reyes
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Snail Crossing.... (Part Eight)
how many unwanted,
hungry, no family,
nowhere to live,
no hope children
does it take?
how many strung out,
hanging out,
wont work,
dont care,
no direction,
give them to your parents,
let DSS take them,
cant feed them,
parents?
do we remember
what family means?
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Let us touch the dying, the poor, the lonely and the unwanted according to the graces we have received and let us not be ashamed or slow to do the humble work.
quote by Mother Teresa
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We must not inflict life on children who will be resented; we must not inflict unwanted children on society.
quote by Anne Lamott
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Home Is Myself
long ago
i was unwanted
grandpa
never praised me
though i worked
hard
even for
one word, perhaps
love or
even a pat on my shoulder
which i never
really had
papa i remember
bought me
a toy chopper
but that was just
once
he was not drunk
when he played with me
in the garden
when you feel unwanted
you do not
have friends
you have nothing good to say
it was early
for me to learn that
dying can be good
i never speak to anyone
about it
i only speak to myself
because i have
no choice
i love isolation
it becomes a way of life
never had a best friend
never had a circle of
friends
as a matter of consequence
i become too independent
complete in myself
and had always been
a survivor
despair is an everyday word
so i was no longer
afraid.
today people want me
call me by my name
and praise me, but
it is too late then
i do not need it anymore
when grandpa died all those near me
cried and mourned for days
i keep my usual distance
wear my tinted sunglasses
and walk myself
all alone back home
home is myself
my heart.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Do You Know Why You Are Unhappy?
you have always been unhappy
feeling unwanted, despised and hurt
yes, your ego is hurt
you believe that this ego is hurt
that this ego exists
try believing there is none
believe that there is no such word as
ego
try believing there is no you at all
let us see who gets the feeling of being unwanted
despised or hurt
there is none now
you see? 99% percent of what you do is for yourself
yourself
your ego and you are so unhappy, because in truth
there is no you
there is no ego
and all you did was for no one else
that is what emptiness is all about
precisely, that is what unhappiness is.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Those Who Betray And Lament
At THIS hour of the day.
And with time allowed,
Over the years to slip away.
Someone sits not to forget or forgive,
Those who intentionally took steps to offend,
With a doing of it they went ahead to inflict.
And at THIS hour of the day,
It would not matter who said what to have what's been done...
Wished away,
To acknowledge what took place.
Since what took place can not be erased,
From the mind of the one this misdeed continues to sit...
Long after it was considered someone's fun!
And at THIS hour of the day...
Wishing for a way to turn back the clock,
To prevent what should not have happened...
To have it stopped and blocked from a doing,
Is not on the mind of the one who is visited with memories...
At THIS hour of the day,
When one witnesses images from a distance...
A payback paid to those who betray and lament.
Those who betray and lament...
Grieve.
Those who betray and lament...
Can't sleep.
Those who betray and lament,
Become haunted.
Unwanted.
Those who betray and lament...
Grieve.
Those who betray and lament...
Can't sleep.
Those who betray and lament,
Become haunted.
Unwanted.
And have nobody near them to hear their pleas!
Those who betray and lament...
Grieve.
Those who betray and lament...
Can't sleep.
Those who betray and lament,
Become haunted.
Unwanted.
And have nobody near them to hear their pleas!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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You'd Be There
If I was not anywhere at all,
I'd be there with you on my mind.
Attempting to define it.
And why I insisted,
To have you follow me like this.
From nonsense arguments...
To moments shared,
When we dared to call it bliss.
If I was not anywhere at all,
Making sure I knew...
My limitations were wished.
With no one around to dismiss me.
Or ignore my existence,
As I would watch you sit.
There is no need,
I've done that myself.
Staring at a reflection...
With a vacant connection.
If I was not anywhere at all...
Pretending I was somewhere,
You'd be there.
Everywhere I would go.
You'd be there.
And you would not know,
Where I had taken you.
To share thoughts we both knew,
Were unwanted.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Lovely life in a garden.
Man make the garden pretty,
mowing, weeding and pruning,
Weeds are unwanted plants,
in between the chosen ones.
Who are the chosen ones?
Who are the unwanted?
When Hitler killed the Jews,
Pakistan army killed the Bengali!
We have come a long way,
May be 100th or 200th generation,
Who are these people to say,
Whom to leave and whom to stay.
We have our Identity cards and passports,
Not only to identity our nationality,
but also to identify our characters and
orientations whether to let or weed us.
Continents demarcated us, Water does that.
Mountains demarcated us, the height does that.
Other than these, what factor can demarcate us,
other then our greed and selfishness.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Massacre Of The Unborn
No survive
Unborn child
Cut to pieces
Left without a name
Unwanted because of the problems of humanity
Unspeakable crime
Silent war is the name of the game
Millions are dying in actions of death and pain
Misguided mothers make this happen
Sometimes for a financial situation
Or a sexual mistake
[Chorus:]
Massacre of the unborn
Massacre of the unborn
Massacre of the unborn child
Innocent blood cries in vain
Defenseless lives are slaughtered everyday
They should make a law against this insanity
Unborn corpses are growing in extreme quantity
Premature stage
Slowly destroyed by the human race
[Lead]
Tortured by tyrants
Unjustly demise
Infant children are left to die
Just innocent lives they slay
There is no chance to escape
Murdering is the matter of this case
A merciless torture to take
No one will live, because they won't survive
There's infant dying
Can't you see
That they will not have a chance
Of growing up in this life
[Lead]
[Chorus:]
Massacre of the unborn
Massacre of the unborn
Massacre of the unborn child
song performed by by Incubus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Song: The Cries of Today’s Children
I hear the cries of children,
Of children of the world; I Singer
The unwanted and unlucky,
The orphans and of streets!
I hear the cries of children,
Of children who want love;
The illiterate, sick, handicapped; II Singer
Poor, without any sheets!
I hear the cries of children,
Of children that must work; I Singer
To earn while young for family,
Have no place, time to play!
I hear the cries of children,
Of children war-ravaged;
Who know not what is joy in life, II Singer
Living in squalor, strife!
Let’s make this world for children,
A better place to live; I&II Singers together
With encouragement, dignity, * 2 times
And all love, we can give.
(
poem by John Celes
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Connection
All I want to do is get back to you
Connection, I just cant make no connection
But all I want to do is to get back to you
Everything is going in the wrong direction
The doctor wants to give me more injections
Giving me shots for a thousand rare infections
And I dont know if hell let me go
Connection, I just cant make no connection
But all I want to do is to get back to you
My bags they get a very close inspection
I wonder why it is that they suspect em
Theyre dying to add me to their collection
I dont know if theyll let me go
Connection, I just cant make no connection
But all I want to do is to get back to you
song performed by by Everclear
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Easy To Be Godly....
it's easy to be godly
beneath a tree on a warm afternoon....
much harder in the alley,
scuffing for food,
picking up needles,
and burying the bodies
of unwanted children...
yet there is no difference!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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The bond of the couple
Women are appearance conscious.
Education and earnings make them free.
Employments bring them to men’s company.
They spend more time with them than with husbands.
Women are not house bound, not village bound.
They live and float with their roots elsewhere.
The society has become permissive.
Infidelity becomes de rigueur.
To have a boy friend is the girl’s fancy.
To have a lover is the wife’s fancy.
Most of men and women are sinners.
Others may, given opportunities.
Close your eyes where light is unwanted. Close your ears where sound is unwanted.
Let possessiveness be torn; be light.
Or what else can one do to changing women?
04.07.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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