Freedom is never more than one generation away from extinction. We didn't pass it to our children in the bloodstream. It must be fought for, protected, and handed on for them to do the same.
quote by Ronald Reagan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Freedom is never more than one generation away from extinction. We didn't pass it to our children in the bloodstream. It must be fought for, protected, and handed on for them to do the same, or one day we will spend our sunset years telling our children and our children's children what it was once like in the United States where men were free.
quote by Ronald Reagan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Freedom Is For Children
I wrote the words of freedom,
Ive even sung the song.
But freedom is for children,
cause they dont understand whats wrong.
The children are so very lucky,
cause theyre not old enough to know.
Not old enough to realize,
But theyll find out as they grow.
The children are so very lucky,
But, on the other hand, whos gonna save the land?
The children are so very lucky,
But mans invention is gonna be the prevention of their life.
This song is nearly over,
And sos the world and the day.
Theres something missin,
But who will listen enough to do what it will take?
Freedom is for children. why cant it be for me?
Freedom is for children. why cant it be for me?
Freedom is for children. why cant it be for me?
Freedom is for children. why cant it be for me?
Freedom is for children. why cant it be for me?
song performed by by Grand Funk Railroad
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Over To You
Born in the window
Cold blooded spoof
Raised in the prison
You called the school
Taught young in legends
Told what to do
I handed my childhood
Over to you
Travelling endlessly, Im searching for mind
Im almost afraid of what I will find
Wandering aimlessly, oh what can I do?
I handed my future over to you, to you
Over to you
Future looks blue
What can I do?
Watching for freedom
Fighting our wars
Feeding our children
Keeping your laws
Someday youll suffer
And what Ill do
Ill hand all your promises
Over to you
Standing inside myself, Im losing control
You made me believe in the stories you told
Waiting impatiently, what else can I do?
I handed my future over to you, to you
Over to you
Future looks blue
What can I do?
Tears filled of sadness
Stealing myself
Which burning secrets?
What to they tell?
Mad politicians
Can tell it true
I handed my children
Over to you
All over, over to you
All over, over to you
All over, over to you...
song performed by by Black Sabbath
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ugly Circle
The cycle continues
The circle goes round
By the sins of the fathers
The children fall down
From generation to generation
Complication on complication
Wounded spirits, battered souls
Thats the way it always goes
Daddy yells
and
Mommy lies
Children learn their selfish pride
Children grow up
They are what they're taught
Another generation in the circle is caught.
poem by Annabel Lee
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What Do We Do To Aldo Kraas?
i have poured
a bucket of cold water
to wake him up
so he can finish
his poems
that we love
to see
in full
whole
he didn't
he holds us in super suspense
our feet could have danced
all night
our hands could have touched
the world in so much
thrills and freshness
but he didn't
he caught us suspended
frozen and
almost dead to extinction
what do we do to Aldo
to finish the poems
we want to read?
i am afraid
hot waters cannot
make him finish
what ought to be
i am afraid no one
can
because Aldo is Aldo
and just like me
Ric is Ric
that is how it goes
without saying
let them be
let me be
the freedom to be
unfinished
the freedom to be
finished
and perhaps be praised
or just be scorned
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The mind projects it.
I believe in God for others do
And for I was taught so as a child.
That belief has been handed down.
Generation after generation.
Believing in God will not alter
My life nor its destiny either.
Ignoring God makes no difference.
God exists as the mind projects it.
11.12.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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It Is Wonderful That There Are So Many Small Children In Israel
IT IS WONDERFUL THAT THERE ARE SO MANY SMALL CHILDREN IN ISRAEL
It is wonderful that there are so many small children in Israel
I see them everywhere and am happy when I see them.
Do they make up or compensate in some way for the million and one half Jewish children murdered a generation or two ago?
Nothing makes up for even one life lost
That we know.
But still seeing these children one invariably thinks of those other Jewish children-
I don't understand it at all-
It is wonderful that there are so many small children in Israel
Children are a great blessing and the hope of their parents and grandparents lives-
God Bless and protect these children
And let them never know the hatred the suffering the cruelty
Children no less innocent than them knew
A generation or two ago.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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We Are Told
We are told that we have got freedom yet not freedom to do as we like
There are places we are not allowed to walk in or where we cannot ride a push bike
Which means that our freedom is so called since we cannot even walk where we please
Ours is such a limited freedom we are not as free as a breeze.
Without a passport we cannot travel to another Country and that is for a limited time
And if we overstay our visa that is a deportable crime
By the Immigration Department of Government by a Government not blessed with a soul
There is a name for such a practice 'tis known as population control.
Young men in wars fought and died for freedom but was it for freedom they died?
When their Government leader told them they were fighting for freedom to the young and naive troops he lied
They fought for the glory of their leader and risked their lives on a foreign shore
They were used as pawns in a deadly power game just that sad to say nothing more.
We are told that we have got freedom though we have to be careful with the words we say
And if our speech on it has got restrictions then what is freedom anyway?
Young men fought and even died for freedom at least that's what we are made to believe
By so called patriotic politicians people who are known to deceive.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Our mothers' generation fought so hard to change things and we're the first generation to benefit. And now you get girls in their twenties who say they're not feminists.
quote by Kristin Davis
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Didnt Know
Didn't know what you had
Until you lost it
Didn't know what you own
Until you got it
Didn't know of your sins
Until you fought it.
Didn't know what you needed
Until you sought it.
Didn't know your lies
Until someone spoke them
Didn't know of the truth
Until someone wrote them
Didn't remembered your dreams
Until someone awoke them
Didn't know they died
Until someone chocked them.
Didn't know you had guilt
Until you cried
Didn't know you felt sadness
Until you tried to hide
Didn't know you felt shame
Until you lied
Didn't know you believed in GOD
Until you asked him why.
Didn't know you felt sorrow
Until you shed a tear
Didn't know that you were scared
Until I saw your fear
Didn't know that you hated
Until you were near
Didn't know that you were unhappy
Until you looked in a mirror.
Didn't know who you truly were
Until your ways you sewed
Didn't know that you were evil
Until the truth was showed
Didn't know you did this before
Until I saw all of your woe
Didn't know who you really were
Though I wished then I did know.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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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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Freewill of Freedom
Some believe freedom
Is far or high
So we climb mountains
And reach for sky
As freedom is sought
Through liberty of will
Falsly measured
Next to how we feel
Freedom is lost
When fought to achieve
Standing beyond limits
Most fail to believe
Freedom is not to be taken freely
So how are those asleep
Claiming to be awake
Freedom is grace of freedom alone
Alone for freedoms sake
poem by Jahrae Lii
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Gethsemane
1914-18
The Garden called Gethsemane
In Picardy it was,
And there the people came to see
The English soldiers pass.
We used to pass -- we used to pass
Or halt, as it might be,
And ship our masks in case of gas
Beyond Gethsemane.
The Garden called Gethsemane,
It held a pretty lass,
But all the time she talked to me
I prayed my cup might pass.
The officer sat on the chair,
The men lay on the grass,
And all the time we halted there
I prayed my cup might pass.
It didn't pass -- it didn't pass --
It didn't pass from me.
I drank it when we met the gas
Beyond Gethsemane.
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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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
justice justice justice justice justice justice justice justice
freedom freedom freedom freedom freedom freedom
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Children I Am Calling You
Children, children
children I am calling you
don't be scared don't be sad
all the fears won't hurt you
You've come so far
so you've got some scars
but you have grown into your own
don't look back just press your attack
all the dreams will come true
Once they said you would never walk
once they said you would never talk
once they said life would pass you by
but they didn't know how you would try
And you showed them all
you'd just get up when you'd fall
you tasted life and you gave it your all
You made me proud
I wanted to shout out loud
Look at my kids look at what they did
But you said no
you said let it go
‘cause time moves on and you move so slow
Children, children
children I am calling you…
poem by Steven Sabathie
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Under The Fig Tree
My shelter full of warmth,
Where I'm fully protected,
A place I can call home,
The silence makes it even peaceful,
It's my little La La Land,
I can speak my mind,
I can feel my freedom once again,
The fresh wind brushes pass my skin softly,
Not a dropp of rain can fall on me,
I am fully protected under that tree,
It's more than a tree,
It's a place where my imaginary turns to reality,
Where I explore my dreams,
A place full of wonders,
A place where miracles take place,
A tree that bears fruits,
Under the fig tree.
poem by Marlene Rashidi
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Vexation
S
Always the same with anger against us,
War for freedom sounds insane.
Torture ended
And began with a vengeance,
War and freedom became the same.
J
War and freedom is not the same girl
Where did you get that sill rot?
War is when cruel words are spoken
Love is when cruel words are not
S
But hate is always thrown against us,
With war and freedom cast the same
Hard to see
Where one war ended,
Clear when freedom began to wane.
J
Freedom didn’t wane my dear
Look around at the way we are
It’s a do as you like world now I fear
Freedom’s moved so very far
S
But freedom has lost its very nature
Its do as your told, not do as you like
We all follow
And the tyranny holds us,
Freedom to war has taken flight
J
This world has fallen victim friend
To the youth who have turned it rotten
Forget the wars and look for the cause
Of a generation long forgotten
S
It's not our youth, or those long past
Ripping freedom from it's nature,
It's our fault
And we must end it,
No need to have a fascist future.
J
If all the world could debate like this
If communication did still exist
Then all would have an equal stand
For there’s still enough love
In our great land
By Sandra Osborne and Janice M Pickett
From their
Collection of poems entitled
‘The Pendulum Swings’
poem by Sandra Osborne
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I didn't know Albert back then - I just learned to play that way. He and I were the only guys that played left-handed. Then left-handed people came from every direction.
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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From Generation to Generation
They destroyed themselves,
From jealousy.
And envy took many of them to their graves.
With self inflicting animosities,
They do to others as they wish.
With a hatred of themselves,
Heard on cussed exchanging lips.
Many of them are 'raising' children,
Like neglected pets...
Chained and leashed,
On trashed doorsteps.
Neglect is not understood,
Since many only comprehend handouts.
And living in sleaze like leeches,
Is a quality of life they only know and perceive.
They destroyed themselves,
From jealousy.
And envy took many of them to their graves.
From generation to generation...
Freedom for them is meant to enslave.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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