I am tortured when I am away from my family, from my children. I am horribly guilt-ridden.
quote by Jessica Lange
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We're All God's Children
Album: Peace In The Valley
Here comes a Baptist, here comes a Jew
There goes a Mormon and a Muslim too
I see a Buddist and a Hindu
I see a Catholic and I see you
We're all god's children
We're all god's children
We're all god's children
Why can't we be
One big happy family
You like the day, and I like the night
He's into country and he's isn't quit
There's folks on the left and the far right
But that doesn't mean that we have to fight
We're all god's children
All god's children
Yeah, We're all god's children
Why can't we be
One big happy family
White folks, yellow folks, black and tan
On the same planet in the same plan
A feminist woman and a he man
We're all playin' the magic hand
We're all god's children
We're all god's children
Oh, We're all god's children
Why can't we be
One big happy family
We're all god's children
All god's children
Yeah, We're all god's children
Why can't we be
One big happy family
We're all god's children
All god's children
We're all god's children
Why can't we be
One big happy family
We're all god's children
We're all god's children
Yeah, We're all god's children
Why can't we be
One big happy family
We're all god's children
We're all god's children
We're all god's children
We're all black and white
We're all precious in his sight
We're all god's children
We're all god's children
We're all god's children
Why can't we all be
One big happy family...
song performed by by Alan Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Silver Guilt
Silver guilt, silver guilt
My birth was not a festival,
No ceremonies were held,
No priests gathered, I was not anointed,
But the firey palms of my mother were overwhelmed,
They were traintracks across which my youth spent many days cradled,
Hopsital,
I was not praised, I was not awarded medals,
I was not declared anything pretentious nor given any titles,
I was not thought of as a savior,
I was not a king, nor a prince,
I desired nothing, I desired breath,
I didn't know what breath was,
I still don't know why I breathe,
And I still don't know what breath is,
Silver guilt, silver guilt,
9 to 5 for what?
To return to a quiet family,
A chore-ridden wife,
A stressed child,
And a color-screen television,
I desire nothing, no one desires anything from I,
I hope you're satisfied,
No journey,
Silver guilt,
Nicotined lungs,
Face for the radio,
Sandpapered coffins on sale,
Find out the price,
You fork ransoms to die,
- Huf Hale, written 5 August 1963
Learn To Do It With The Action
Slaughtered by the onslaught of thoughts.
That are deep and hidden,
To leave one feeling guilt ridden.
Don't let them ride your back like that.
Decide right now,
You want satisfaction.
Slaughtered by the onslaught of thoughts.
That are deep and hidden,
To leave one feeling guilt ridden.
Don't let them ride your back like that.
Decide you want satisfaction,
And...
Satisfaction is where it's at.
Some people find themselves getting crazed,
Over things they can't afford to give.
As if they are committed to give and not get.
So they sit and twist their minds into fits.
Some people find themselves getting crazed,
When the holidays of feeding greed...
Come to empty their pockets then leave.
Like a buyer's remorse that's grieved.
Oh no,
Let go of the hold.
It's not worth the beholding.
Slaughtered by the onslaught of thoughts.
That are deep and hidden,
To leave one feeling guilt ridden.
Don't let them ride your back like that.
Decide you want satisfaction,
And...
Satisfaction is where it's at.
Don't allow a guilt to ride attached to your back.
Learn to grab some satisfaction.
Don't allow a guilt to ride like that!
Learn to grab some satisfaction.
And...
Learn to do it with the action.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Ego Trip
With A Guilt Ridden Frown Hidden Smiling Deep Down
Laughing At The Crowd Nauseating Sound As The Blind
Lead The Blind On A Crusade For Sight Corralled In The Corner
This Leash Is Too Tight I Can't Keep Up This Act
Please Expand The Role Choking On Dialogue
You've All Heard Before With A Guilt Ridden Frown Hidden Smiling
Deep Down Dying Inside Paint A Smile On This Clown
Tainted Face Jaded By Disgrace Regurgitate Your Faith
Fornicate Your Mind All That Hides Inside Roll Around
song performed by by Mushroomhead from Mushroomhead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Big Ward Sister
Be careful, mister!
She'll have you in her ward, her web,
The Big Ward Sister,
She'll have your soul for breakfast -
She's a giant Spider
And her words are poison
And she likes to watch you suffer -
She'll take your dreams away
Till you are horribly normal
And insincere like she is,
Fit for the world again,
Castrated, unable to feel any pain,
Horribly healthy, horribly sane! !
poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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To Me What Family is
Family to me has many meanings
For all are full of diverse feelings
Love and anger, both within a single one
Children who stay and children who run
Can one family be better than another?
It all depends on how they love each other
A family’s love should last forever
Bonds of love nothing can sever
For the family I have, I am happy and blessed
And nothing more truthful have I ever confessed
Family has many meanings, but one rises above
The greatest meaning of family, is that of love
poem by Glaedr the poet
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The Hanging Tree.... (What Do We Call It...)
down through the woods
to the clearing where
the hanging tree stood...
sometimes you can still see
the shadows of ghosts,
swinging in the hot summer sun...
now the tree has been cut,
and time has passed,
yet the air's still heavy with guilt.
do we know more?
are we more civilized?
or have we just changed trees,
and gotten better rope?
what do we call the young men
sent to die in the oil wars...
the young people stuck
in the gang ridden slums?
the bullied ones who lose hope?
the illegal immigrants who die for work?
the young couple stuck on unemployment
and food stamps?
the elderly couple evicted
cause they cant afford the rent?
the Muslim family afraid to go out at night?
the gay couple in love who cant get married?
the young children without a father?
the millions strung out on pills?
what do we call it,
if we dont call it hanging?
poem by Eric Cockrell
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The secret war that is raging in South Africa
The secret war that is raging in South Africa
asks for white blood,
these black people first kill and torture
before they take your possessions.
Incident upon incident I can tell about
where white families have been killed,
just think about the Orffer family
who was killed in Stellenbosch
on Friday 31 July 1994
by black people:
First the trustworthy black maid Sannetjie,
who tried to ward off the attackers with her bare hands
like a Amakeia of days gone,
then the blonde small girl
then the dad and the deaf little boy
and last the mother
were chopped with a axe to death
and everywhere there was blood.
Nowadays the tendency is
to first bind up the head of the family,
the man, to assault him
and to torture him to death in front of his family
and then to rape the women,
even toddlers and babies
and if the women are lucky
they survive
when the criminals
leave with their possessions
and it seems as if the police
do not want to, or are not able to stop this thing
and then it is claimed
that these people kill and steal
because they are hungry, while people in government
sings songs to wipe out whites.
From April 1994 when Nelson Mandela became president
the wiping out of white families is our destiny,
the Afrikaner nation is in the melting pot
we who have an own culture, language and identity,
who cannot become part of the hurly-burly
are killed, not only robbed
but tortured and horribly killed
and our women and children are raped.
Even Eugene Terreblancé
had befallen this same lot
and if this is not a war
that is raging against us,
where we are systematically
bit by bit, family by family
wiped out, and the numbers
are already in the thousands, then what is it?
[References: Klaaglied: Stellenbosch, Vrydag,31 Julie 1994 (Song of lamentation: Stellenbosch, Friday,31 Julie 1994) by Lina Spies. Amakeia by A. G. Visser, Amakeia, Amakeia then and now by Gert Strydom.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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If It Offends
I awakened no longer beholdened,
To those emotional traps.
The kind that others leave,
With expectations...
Something done I did disliked,
Eventually to have me feeling guilt ridden.
And I would then offer an apology.
I awakened no longer beholdened,
To those emotional traps.
Or do something done,
Without being consciously attached.
I use to be the one to forgive and forget.
No matter who said what to me.
To show no concern or expression of a regret.
And I would laugh when publicly,
I was shown nothing but disrespect.
I awakened no longer beholdened,
To those emotional traps.
The kind that others leave,
With expectations...
Something done I did disliked,
Eventually to have me feeling guilt ridden.
And I would then offer an apology.
Well those days do not exist for me anymore.
I say what I mean and if it offends,
I let others know immediately...
Being provoked I don't consider to be a joke.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Chasing Time
a child rises up
for his first walk
his first walk
rushes him for
his first run
his first run
is fast and speed
takes him anywhere
away from family
where he begins
another family of his own
children rush to become
fathers and mothers
to beget children again
another family line
another roots for the
family line another tree
another name another
family name
what are we doing?
we are rushing chasing time
as though we can do it
no, time is like a truck
it over runs everyone
squashed and mashed
like things like creatures
everyone perishes at last.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Lay It Down
For too long it tortured me
You see
The guilty
Is free
For too long I carried it around
And found
Was astounded
By the sound
Of breathing a sigh of relief
No grief
The thief
Made disbelief
The hallmark of my shame
And blame
The game
Always remained
But I laid down my guilt and walked away
That day
I prayed
Then stayed
Gone from the burden of the hurt
To assert
Now alert
This convert
Letting go of the guilt and pride
Held inside
Free ride
He died
To save me from the past
To everlast
Life recast
To outlast
To outlast the guilt and pride and shame and hurt which I laid down so He could take it away
poem by David Terry
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What Kind of Monsters
The Billings a Family who adopted twelve children and had four natural children were murdered, many of the adopted Children are severely delayed and it is believed that at least three of the Children saw what happened.
What kind of monster
Strips that kind of love from
A Child?
What kind of monster
Does something so
Heinous
To a family who opened
Up home and heart.
I wonder what kind of monster
Takes the security of a loving
Family away
From Children
Who need love?
What kind of monster?
I really can not even begin
To say/
Copyright Michelle R Kidwell
July.13.09
7: 17 P.M PST
poem by Michelle Kidwell
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Conscience is silenced
Butchers have no guilt that they have slaughtered.
Choppers have no guilt that they have chopped
Fishermen have no guilt for their catch.
Soldiers have no guilt for their killings
Killing as profession will silence one’s conscience.
18.11.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Past conference topics have included strengthening the role of fathers in children's lives, the impact of the media culture on children, the delicate balance between work and family, and family involvement in education.
quote by Tipper Gore
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Family by pushkal
Family is a group,
like a coup.
Family contains first a father and a mother.
Both loving only each other then thier children only a little,
Do not remember about others
and can do a crime.
Then the family revolves around
a brother and a sister.
Hitting each other, putting false claims on you,
even then disturbing you.
Putting a nail in u, but u donot notice,
but still it hurts u.
Then there are olds, with lots of experiences,
but no one to listen them.
So which one is left in your family,
no one except family like neighbours an d my maid.
But still they follows elders of my house.
So a family is a group of personalities,
you should never meet.
poem by Pushkal Sharma
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Who Bears The Guilt.... (In The End)
i close my eyes and go back...
sixties angry churning deep south,
to the old oak tree in the clearing.
where two bodies hung side by side;
one young black man, local,
one young jewish man,
who came from the north to protest.
both stripped naked, badly beaten,
whose sins did they die for?
black and white Jesus's,
neath a guilt ridden limb...
whose crown of thorns?
and who will roll away the stone?
45 years later,
a couple lines in the news.
a young gay man hanging from a rafter.
the victim of bullying and discrimination.
will we never learn?
how many Jesus's?
how many crosses?
in the end... who bears the guilt?
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Prayer of the damned..
Raven raven,
upon the sky,
I'd wish this world had room for you and I.
These black hearts, these lost souls,
these fragile dreams of foolish hopes..
You posses wings but art not free,
crowned with your thorny wreath..
we're both chained by guilt,
the guilt of being..
We are the black misfits of this world so free,
tortured by our own pain and misery.
Raven raven, can we ever be free? ..
David Joergensen
poem by David Joergensen
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Y
of all the letters of the alphabet
it is you
that has never been satisfied with an answer
the questioning mind
uses you like
there is nothing more important in this world
except an explanation
always searching for the reasons
and justifications
always asking
if it is worth it
if this really matters
if this is really true
and guilt ridden you stumble upon a stone unturned,
blood stained the knife that fooled your hand:
why?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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“My Family”
My family is very strong like me
My family is actually very sweet
My family can be a little strict
My family always acts like this
My family is not always boring
When my family has things to do their flying and soaring
My family is actually sometimes crazy
Their even sometimes very lazy
Me trying to think about the facts of my family
Makes me laugh because I know I have a great family highly
poem by Va Rockeya Foy
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There's A Clock
There's a clock in my head,
Tells the time.
I could stop it,
Freeze the moment.
I'd stand,
Work out when,
Things went
So horribly wrong.
I've glimpsed your smile.
Cried all your tears.
Felt all your fears.
And still,
Don't know,
Where it all went,
So horribly wrong.
May your dreams,
Show you the way.
Take you to that place,
Far away,
Where the clock in my head,
Has,
Stopped time.
© 2012
poem by Nick Strong
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