From Greece To Rome (Conclusion)
the majority, the 99%,
now owned by the elite!
a new tidal wave of slavery,
that feeds the wealthy,
and starves the poor!
robbed of human rights and dignity,
faceless numbers in a line.
jobless, homeless, hungry, and angry....
again, bodies on the block!
now more like Rome than Greece,
we implode on ourselves!
fires burning, storms raging,
the howl of humanity's voice...
the bloodied shores weep and tremble!
one people, many colors, battling for freedom,
we're all immigrants here!
forced to lay it all on the line,
backs against the wall,
with nothing left to lose!
from Greece to Rome,
democracy to plutocracy,
the eagle falls from
smoke filled skies!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Capitalism Battles Freedom
when capitalism battles freedom,
you get what we've become...
profit begats slavery,
the many become enslaved.
founded on freedom?
we took this land from
the Native Americans,
took their way of life,
their rights, their dreams...
in the name of God?
of progress?
we brought over the slaves
from the African shores...
to work, to use, to abuse...
we took their lives, their way of life,
their hopes and dreams...
in the name of free enterprise?
of profit?
we treated our women like possessions,
second class citizens at best.
they were expected to be silent,
to obey, to bear our children,
to cook and wash...
they had to fight for years
to get the right to vote...
even longer for equal wages...
in the name of righteous judgement?
of divine directive?
and now, we the poor,
of all colors and creeds,
are corporate owned.
held under the thumb
of the elite, put down
and trampled on...
our way of life taken,
our hopes for the future dashed...
faceless numbers that stink of poverty!
in the name of wealth and power?
in the name of apathetic profit?
profit at all costs!
capitalism... or something else,
fair, equal, with hope and chance
and dreams...
the way of freedom,
when dignity overcomes profit!
when the human being is worth more
than the dollar and the deal!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Dont You Think It's Time?
children have rights,
women have rights.
lovers have rights.
people of all religions,
and even atheists have rights.
people of all colors,
speaking every language have rights.
trees and rivers have rights.
cats and dogs have rights.
cattle have rights,
homeless people have rights.
prisoners have rights.
democrats and republicans have rights,
even socialists have rights.
the jobless have rights,
old people have rights...
and the hungry have
the right to be fed!
damnit! dont you think it's time?
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Do They Come Clean?
at the end of the day,
when we wash our hands,
do they come clean?
homeless people, young girls
sold on the block,
hungry children, AIDS victims,
gotta watch your stocks.
black and white, brown and red,
gunfire and poverty;
kids afraid to go to school,
aint no profit in honesty.
SUV's, invaded countries,
oil doesnt buy liberty.
the takers take, the hurting weep,
at the cost of dignity.
politicians lie, preachers sell
narrow minded philosophies.
prisons full, bodies in the street,
the faces of reality.
smoke fills the air, oil fills the seas,
trade the future for the fix.
unemployed standing in line,
faceless numbers, brick upon brick.
close your door, shut your windows,
turn up the sound....
of anger, despair, and loss....
cries for help as they drown...
tell me....
at the end of the day,
when we wash our hands,
do they come clean?
poem by Eric Cockrell
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The We In I, The I In We!
thermal meltdown, final countdown,
democracy defines itself!
our own soldiers, we grow bolder,
chased by the ghosts of hell!
1st amendment,6th commandment,
freedom exacts a price.
national boundaries, personal boundaries,
mice become men, men become mice! .....
all men equal, all men free..
all men want their dignity.
freedom of choice, freedom to be....
the we in i, the i in we!
faceless jobless, hopeless homeless,
living hard on the streets.
selling pills, shotgun thrills,
gotta be quick on your feet.
hospitals turn away, old men dont pray,
got nothing left to lose.
gunshots, speed off, tag number, all's lost,
somebody pays the dues....
all men equal, all men free....
all men want their dignity.
freedom of choice, freedom to be...
the we in i, the i in we!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Doesnt Smell Like
blasphemy!
equality, not equal.
dignity, dont qualify!
bill of rights, big brother....
one vote, doesnt count...
spirituality, apathy.
patriots, body count.
liberate, invade!
speak out, shot down.....
educate, imprison.
working pride, beg for food...
land of plenty, homeless.
elite few, faceless numbers.
society, depravity...
humanity, self-indulged....
doesnt smell like,
...doesnt even smell like...
FREEDOM!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Egypt’s Bread and Butter Revolution
freedom democracy
employment dignity human rights
domestic internal policy
the right to live above the bread line
recipe for revolution conflict disaster
40% of proud Egyptians
heirs to ancient inspirational dynasties
living below the poverty line
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Of The Selfish Side Of Humanity
Of the selfish side of Humanity I am only too aware
In a World where the self centred for the have nots one thought don't have to spare
Even in so called wealthy Democratic Countries poverty is not rare
And thousands must grow poorer for every new millionaire
So many Homeless and Stateless people in the bigger World out there
The have nots of Humanity are living everywhere
That all people are equal is born of a lie
But there is more to being Human than living for me, myself and I
In most cases those who talk of life choices do not know what they are on about
If they themselves life's necessities had never had to go without
If they themselves never lived as the homeless poor of Poor Poverty Street
Then their preaching is judgemental and their ideas are obsolete
To be born to poor parents and become Homeless is a thing that none would choose
In a Human World where for a minority to win so many have to lose.
poem by Francis Duggan
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From Greece To Rome
we took the Greek ideal of democracy,
and built it on bloodied shores.
wearing the mask of white righteousness,
we destroyed all in our path,
and claimed the land for god and freedom.
we fueled it with African slaves,
bodies sold on the block.
we built the land of equality,
as long as you were male and white,
had money, or owned 'stolen' land!
finally, women took the right to vote,
but we urged them (god's will) ,
to stay home and bear children.
black people were emancipated
to 'colored only' restrooms,
and a seat at the back of the bus!
/to be continued/
poem by Eric Cockrell
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The Forgotten Hungry And Homeless
The forgotten hungry and homeless nowadays to be found everywhere
There are millions of them close to a billion in the bigger World out there
The refugees of drought stricken Lands and of warlords and the homeless of Poverty Street
Basic human rights of them are denied shelter from the weather and enough for to eat
In a Human World where everyone is supposed to be equal after all we breathe in the same air
But the poor and the homeless and the hungry cannot feel that life is very fair
The minority those who are too wealthy people with too much of everything
Are people that many look up to though their praises I cannot sing,
In an egalatarian Human World everyone would have a home to live in
And nobody would be without food and well dressed and not ragged and thin
The poor by the day growing poorer and that does seem a sad thing to say
And the refugee camps of the World are all overcrowded today,
'Tis sad to think that from the poverty of many that a minority does stand to gain
And I with enough of food and shelter have no reason for to complain.
poem by Francis Duggan
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It means that, in fact, it's - whether fascist is the right word I don't know - more of a plutocracy than anything resembling a democracy; it has become a nation controlled by a very small, very wealthy elite.
quote by Peter Singer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tis True What Is Said About People
'Tis true what is said about people that everyone has a life story to tell
Though not everybody's life story in book form a million copies would sell
The biography of a poor homeless person many would not be interested to read
Life's journey from the poorest suburb to success for most people never lead
The lives of elite sports people and celebrities and those of power and money makes the best sellers list
Just reading of and hearing about them the masses cannot seem to resist
Suppose we only admire in others what we ourselves aspire to be
Most wish to be wealthy and famous and none wish to live in poverty
Most do wish to be wealthy and famous and others their praises to sing
Suppose to wish to be loved and admired is quite human it does seem a natural thing
But the road to success is a steep road and few ever climb to renown
And what hope for the poor and the homeless who live in the poor side of the town?
You ask one of their life wishes poverty he or she never choose
But the sad thing about the Human World is that for one to win many must lose.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Rachel III
Sprung from the blood of Israel's scatter'd race,
At a mean inn in German Aarau born,
To forms from antique Greece and Rome uptorn,
Trick'd out with a Parisian speech and face,
Imparting life renew'd, old classic grace;
Then, soothing with thy Christian strain forlorn,
A-Kempis! her departing soul outworn,
While by her bedside Hebrew rites have place--
Ah, not the radiant spirit of Greece alone
She had--one power, which made her breast its home!
In her, like us, there clash'd, contending powers,
Germany, France, Christ, Moses, Athens, Rome.
The strife, the mixture in her soul, are ours;
Her genius and her glory are her own.
poem by Matthew Arnold from Sonnets (1867)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Equality... (In A Word)
equality...
in a word,
no more talk of
the 'land of the free'.
you founded this country
over the scattered bones
of 100,000,000 Native Americans.
built this country
on the backs of
African-American slaves,
and poor Scotch-Irish refugees,
who turned your earth,
and built your homes.
'give me your tired, your poor...'
more cheap labor?
to build your cities,
your railroads, work your steel.
how many faceless bodies buried
in your cold dark mines?
how many second class young men
sent off to war?
how many women paid less,
treated as less?
how many farmworker immigrants
paid too little,
treated like trash?
how many slum children
sent off to prison?
how many lives sold off
for bottom line profit?
disembodied jobless,
driven from their homes?
how many minimum wage slaves
praying for food stamps?
how many 'cant afford an education'
futures written in stone?
how many sparrows on the fence?
you want to honor those who've served?
all of these,
the people who have served you!
who have met your needs!
Memorial Day, an epitaph!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Stanzas: When A Man Hath No Freedom
When a man hath no freedom to fight for at home,
Let him combat for that of his neighbours;
Let him think of the glories of Greece and of Rome,
And get knock'd on the head for his labours.
To do good to mankind is the chivalrous plan,
And, is always as nobly requited;
Then battle for freedom wherever you can,
And, if not shot or hang'd, you'll get knighted.
US Civil War in Two Oh One Four
In the US the year is two oh one four.
Chasms between the rich and poor
Have reached a stage of feudal times.
For the poor rights are no more;
For the rich there are no crimes.
What once was ruling middle class
Has faded away like winter grass.
That worker’s home, once so sublime,
Now only rents as prices climb.
Wealth and power are with those few
Who hoard it and pursue
Every chance to enhance their throne,
Each day leaving poor more alone.
Like Greece and Rome two hundred years
Hail turbulent change with truculent fears.
America can’t turn back to safer shore
Its ship is listing in two oh one four.
China has spoken with its $5000 car,
Superior to what was Detroit by far.
Unemployed flood streets, but can’t find,
Nor keep mortgages from falling behind.
Rich buy their homes as values crash;
Then rent back gaining more cash.
Crime rises when hopeless turn to stealth,
While privileged few fortress their wealth.
With nothing to lose, these poor attack
The wealthy, who fiercely fight back
From bastions of privilege and power,
Inflicting horrible losses as they devour
Hoards of poor as conflict rages on
Three years till established power is gone.
Smoky skies and blood drenched tears
Again chronicle man’s brutal, selfish years.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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His One Demand!
morning half-frozen,
open the door and go...
issues hang like clouds
on the horizon...
bigots and racists,
money bred liars,
blowing smoke on the scene,
and the movement continues.
more and more people,
more and more voices,
standing up in all corners,
change has to come!
right way, wrong way,
too many jobless, homeless,
too many left without...
Constitutional rights taken
under pretense and hoax!
not going to fly,
that dog wont hunt!
America cries out for help
from the cell imposed by greed.
to the streets, to the capital...
to the hallowed halls...
the common man marches,
freedom and truth his only weapons,
dignity his one demand!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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2024
The year is 2024.
A chasm between the rich and poor
Has reached a stage of feudal times.
For the poor rights are no more;
For the rich there are no crimes.
What once was ruling middle class
Has faded away like winter grass.
That worker's home, once so sublime,
Now only rents as prices climb.
Wealth and power are with those few
Who hoard it and pursue
Every chance to enhance their throne,
Each day leaving poor more alone.
Like Greece and Rome two hundred years
Hail turbulent change with truculent fears.
America can't turn back to safer shore
Its ship is listing in 2024.
China has spoken with its $5000 car,
Superior to what was Detroit by far.
Unemployed flood streets, but can't find,
Nor keep mortgages from falling behind.
Rich buy their homes as values crash;
Then rent back gaining more cash.
Crime rises when hopeless turn to stealth,
While privileged few fortress their wealth.
With nothing to lose, these poor attack
The wealthy, who fiercely fight back
From bastions of privilege and power,
Inflicting horrible losses as they devour
Hoards of poor as conflict rages on
Three years till established power is gone.
Smoky skies and blood drenched tears
Again chronicle man's brutal, selfish years.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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To the Oracle at Delphi
Great Oracle, why are you staring at me,
do I baffle you, do I make you despair?
I, Americus, the American,
wrought from the dark in my mother long ago,
from the dark of ancient Europa--
Why are you staring at me now
in the dusk of our civilization--
Why are you staring at me
as if I were America itself
the new Empire
vaster than any in ancient days
with its electronic highways
carrying its corporate monoculture
around the world
And English the Latin of our days--
Great Oracle, sleeping through the centuries,
Awaken now at last
And tell us how to save us from ourselves
and how to survive our own rulers
who would make a plutocracy of our democracy
in the Great Divide
between the rich and the poor
in whom Walt Whitman heard America singing
O long-silent Sybil,
you of the winged dreams,
Speak out from your temple of light
as the serious constellations
with Greek names
still stare down on us
as a lighthouse moves its megaphone
over the sea
Speak out and shine upon us
the sea-light of Greece
the diamond light of Greece
Far-seeing Sybil, forever hidden,
Come out of your cave at last
And speak to us in the poet's voice
the voice of the fourth person singular
the voice of the inscrutable future
the voice of the people mixed
with a wild soft laughter--
And give us new dreams to dream,
Give us new myths to live by!
poem by Lawrence Ferlinghetti
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Democracy v Liberty
The fathers of democracy.
The ancient Greek philosophers
were dependent on slavery.
Which leaves me in a quandary.
How can it be democracy
to have such inequality?
I think democracy should be
a universal human right.
Though it is not quite obviously.
An ideal to aspire to.
Which one day might be possible.
The time has come now to review.
What we mean by democracy.
If everybody has their say.
It might well lead to anarchy.
When we elect a government.
The will of the majority
is what they’re meant to represent..
But it seems they rarely do.
This cannot be democracy.
the many are ruled by the few.
Who gain control quite legally
because their wealth allows them to
encouraged by our apathy.
The systems open to abuse
The people have the power to
insist on change; which we don’t use.
We vote or not just as we choose.
A facet of democracy.
I would be hesitant to lose.
It seems to me democracy
is something which we can’t achieve
and still retain our liberty.
There is no way that I can see
which will be fair to everyone.
I must admit despondently.
A partial democracy
is what we have and will retain
a curb upon our liberty.
You have no reason to complain
if you choose not to use your vote.
You have the freedom to abstain.
Sunday,16 May 2010
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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It was the same with those old birds in Greece and Rome as it is now. The only thing new in the world is the history you don't know.
quote by Harry Truman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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