I Am... (Hands Of The Clock)
i am...
the hands of the clock,
approaching midnight.
the world on fire,
the thunderous shout of hunger.
i am the ditch,
filled with the bodies of freedom.
i am the hammer,
that drove the nails.
i am the hated, the despised,
and the friendless.
i am the stranger,
that smells like your brother.
i am the enemy
of tyranny and oppression.
i am the blood
shed for the truth.
i am the day after,
destruction and fall.
i am the taste of death,
that burns to live.
i am dirty, sweaty,
bruised, and shaken...
i am freedom standing
when all else is gone.
i am the chant of equality,
the downfall of religions.
i am the lover, the worker,
the farmer, and the builder.
i am the ark
that carries the seed.
i am the courage
that lays down weapons.
i am justice, listening,
caring, and changing!
i am revolution, redemption,
man and woman side by side.
i am electric, naked,
sensual, and common!
i am the end of what has been..
i am the new day,
the new way, the bridge between men!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Related quotes
I Hear....
i hear the cry of a thousand naked voices.
i hear the sound of the turning wheels.
i hear the guns, and the moment after,
i hear the blood of bodies in the fields.
i hear the cry of babies without mothers,
i hear the hunger of faces without names.
i hear the whisper of god in the homeless,
the hearts of the poor in the falling rain.
i hear the truth beyond all lies,
i hear the hand that takes another.
i hear justice's cry for deliverance,
and the prayer of the stranger that is my brother.
i hear the hammer and wings of freedom,
i hear equality chanted and sang.
i hear the beat of life calling forward,
to dare, to give, tis not in vain!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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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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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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freedom freedom freedom freedom freedom freedom
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freedom freedom freedom freedom freedom freedom
freedom freedom freedom freedom freedom freedom
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justice justice justice justice justice justice justice justice
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freedom freedom freedom freedom freedom freedom
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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What We Are.... (Freedom)
Thomas Jefferson said, 'every generation needs its own revolution'....
freedom is not passive, not set, not a past attainment.
it is the act of evolving, becoming more human.
it requires seeing the face, and knowing the heart.
it has to be the way we live... the way we give....
and the reason we breathe....
a constant joining, listening, and caring.
the responsibility of needs met, and shared.
the shout of the question, and the embrace of faith...
freedom must be who we are, what we are,
and what we believe...
or freedom dies!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Seek freedom
What does the sun of man want
What does mankind want
Under the sun
Is it to eat all the food
In the world and have fun
So that nobody gets nothing to feed
Or destroy the righteous and his seed
May be gather more riches
And be superior
So that others become
Poor and inferior
Or gather all the women
In the world by your side
Is this the ultimate pride
What fore does mankind want
Apart from being free and happy
You need freedom to live your destiny
So do i need freedom
Everybody needs freedom
The rich man needs freedom
So do the poor man also need freedom
The king needs freedom
So do his subjects needs freedom
The master needs freedom
So do the servant needs freedom
Freedom belongs to the old man
As well is the young man
the human society without freedom
Is an evildom
Freedom is love for one another
Freedom is the ultimate power
poem by Matt Ancient
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The Fire Of Redemption
i am a dissident,
a fugitive, a renegade,
condemned by apathy as subversive.
i am an individual,
a burning bush,
a fire in the night.
i am a homeless star
in a sky gone black,
the mouth and face of hunger.
i am passion's anger,
and compassion's hands,
i am a man and not a body.
i am a spiritual heretic,
a relic from a time
when the spirit was the cause.
i am a bridge, a pair of shoes,
a jug that holds water.
i am the seeds, the sower,
the rain and the sun.
i am the common dance,
the holy sweat,
i am hard work and erection.
i am the prayer prayed
by the side of the road,
the father's firmness,
and the mother's breasts.
i am sickness and death,
the price of years,
i am simple resurrection.
i am the lover unchained,
the wind that breaks the door,
the rain that falls in the naked night.
i am the voice behind silence,
the shout of the snow.
i am birth and beginning,
i am the fire of redemption!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Bring The Dawn!
i am the page earmarked
by an angry god,
the end of tired thought,
the beginning of passion.
i am the spirit of fire,
setting buildings ablaze...
the bell ringing,
in the ancient tower.
i am the dark skinned lover,
who comes in the night.
the sharpened axe,
the hammer of dawn.
i am the eyes of hunger,
and the voice of need.
i am the weight of conscience,
the trench dug, and feet planted.
i am the smell of the heart,
you cant wash off your hands.
the phlegm of the homeless,
dried blood on the lips.
i am the flag of the faceless,
raised high and strong.
i am the bodies given
to build the bridge!
you can take me,
but you cant own me.
you can chain me,
but you cant stop me.
i am the changing seasons,
and the coming storm.
i am freedom, dammit!
hear my roar, bring the dawn!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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What Color? (Hope)
what color
was the dust
from which the stars
were made?
what color is the hunger
written on the child's face?
what color is justice,
forgiveness, desire, truth?
what color is the wind....
the rain, gravity,
and knowledge?
what color is equality?
what color is freedom?
what color is eternity?
what color is redemption?
what color is God?
what color were the nails
that hung Jesus on the cross?
what color was enlightenment
falling on the Buddha as he sat
'neath that tree?
what color is prejudice, hatred,
fear, greed, apathy.....
what color your skin?
nay, what color is your blood?
and what color are the eyes
of humanity staring through the darkness?
and what color is hope?
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Thoughts On Revolution.... (Number Two)
when we speak of revolution
we often speak of justice...
do we understand the concept?
justice has nothing to do with
class, religious beliefs, skin
color, or economic station...
it has nothing to do with revenge!
it cannot be used for political
purposes...
justice looks, smells, tastes, and
feels the same for all people!
justice is marked by a true sense
of equality.
doesnt sound like what we have now?
therein lies the reason for revolution...
it we dare to risk all for change,
we must do so to restore human dignity!
all people must have a chance... to live,
to love, to have shelter and work.
there can be no prejudice allowed!
it goes back to the beginning motion
of changing ourselves... that's where
the real revolution begins!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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In The Shadows
who's invading whom?
shall we kill again in the name
of freedom?
does capitalism have its own
savior, complete with cross and grave?
in the name of security,
we take human rights...
now the truth becomes a threat.
bodies bought and sold, sacrificed to wars,
bodies without faces!
and freedom well armed and lusty,
kills justice and equality in the shadows!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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The spirit of man has awakened and the soul of man has gone forth. Grant us the wisdom and the vision to comprehend the greatness of man's spirit, that suffers and endures so hugely for a goal beyond his own brief span. Grant us honor for our dead who died in the faith, honor for our living who work and strive for the faith, redemption and security for all captive lands and peoples. Grant us patience with the deluded and pity for the betrayed. And grant us the skill and valor that shall cleanse the world of oppression and the old base doctrine that the
strong must eat the weak because they are strong. Yet most of all grant us brotherhood, not only for this day but for all our years — a brotherhood not of words but of acts and deeds. We are all of us children of earth — grant us that simple knowledge. If our brothers are oppressed, then we are oppressed. If they hunger, we hunger. If their freedom is taken away, our freedom is not secure. Grant us a common faith that man shall know bread and peace — that he shall know justice and righteousness, freedom and security, an equal opportunity and an equal chance to do his best, not only in our own lands, but throughout the world. And in that faith let us march toward the clean world our hands can make. Amen.
quote by Stephen Vincent Benet
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Justice, Equality, Compassion, Human!
i spit hammers and nails,
can taste bullets and swords.
my eyes are the bodies
of the innocent that lay dying.
my fingers touch the ribs
of small children starving.
my tongue's made of coal dust,
oil, and death by profit!
my ears hear the cry of freedom
from the cells of the oppressor.
my heart sleeps neath the bridge
with the homeless family at night.
my fists smash the lie and the liar both,
my arms carry the weight
of the working class's lives.
covered with the stink of poverty,
i shed the clothes of pretensions,
apathy, and human greed.
and my desire grows hard
when i see a better day...
my back bears the stripes
of man's mistakes and failures...
i cry justice, i am equality,
i breathe compassion, i am human!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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The Doom Dungeon
From the merciless hands of the rulers to the ruled,
The wind of oppression blow stilly into flesh and bones
So many the minds of plebeians quailed out;
Thus no hope in their faith and amidst many I the orator,
And fears from my eyes like a woman's to fellow plebeians.
In the darkest expires many air in speechless state of mind
But the system is called the freedom of people, by the people and for the people
Yet they keep watch o'er us fierce remote animals in attempt of our freedom,
And I the press given to the freedom of oppression, death and doom.
In speechless will I never expire like fellow plebs,
And not even the zombies will I fear and be speechless.
I speak freedom, equity, fairness against oppression, death and doom;
And unto the dungeon they transited me with their remote machinery
As they could not put out the fire of life in me;
And with their merciless power has dug dungeon for my freedom;
With no one whom I could communicate my thoughts to,
And no one to sympathize with my state of suffering.
But as the day passes, familiar became I with the narrow limit
Which my wandering had been confined,
Alas, bitterly I felt the state of my captivity.
O freedom! O freedom! O freedom! Thou art not as press dreams;
Woe to the hands that dug this doom dungeon.
poem by Lightcheerful Briggs
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Freedom 2
Once more, one fear surrounded me
Not knowing that has beaten me
The hot sun speaks louder
A cold pain has shut laughter
No where to run away
As if liberty has turned gray
People shout, clap and walk
People have no opponent to talk
One hope, one fear, one enemy
Many hearts, many thoughts, one enemy
One campus, one map, one road
Prison puts such heavy load
Feet by feet, hand in hand
People want freedom of their land
Oh, hunger of a free walk
Put my old enemy and me into talk
Put his hand in mine
We both shout out the same line
“Jail is bad even in heaven
All we want is freedom, freedom, freedom”
What he wants to do with his freedom I don’t know
But that is freedom on different ways we go.
poem by Kianush Maleki
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Godslayer
Listen
To the horror of satan sea
Listen
To the guns of superman
Well I say
Return to a platinum stranger
Hooked on
The enemy under your skin
Panic
Despite the heart of stone
Doomsday
For all the beautiful people
Hey I know what I want now
And it's right in front of me
And I know how to get it
The good things in life are
Always free
Landscape of greed and hate
It keeps me going
Victim of what's inside you
Outside of truth
Only hurts now when I laugh
Live by fire
Forever is a long long time
War is hell
Hanging man twitches in agony
Death rattle shakes itself free
Raise you hand to the mountain
Drown in your own bloody fountain
Shadows become longer the sun
Burns down
Don't need to look I am found
Lucky
If you still remember your name
Freedom
Visions of a showdown
Blood is
Boiling in the midnight sun
Sizzling
Like the enemy under your skin
song performed by by White Zombie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Am... (I Am Not...)
i am the unions.
miners, teachers, steel workers,
nurses, factory workers,
standing strong and united,
demanding human decency,
fair wages and benefits.
i am not communism.
i am the common man and woman,
saying prayers with their hands
as they work;
driven by the faith in family,
teaching respect, gentleness,
and firm convictions
to their children.
i am not the elite.
i am the bruised, scarred human being.
i have fallen time and again.
i have built great dreams
that time has destroyed.
but i know what i believe,
and who i am.
i am not religious.
i am the multi-colored neighborhood.
different faiths, different languages,
the same needs and desires.
i am open conversation and acceptance.
i am not prejudice.
i am the day of revolution.
i am oppression cast off,
ignorance exposed;
i am equality, dignity,
and basic human rights.
i am not 'i, me, mine'.
i am the human condition...
evolving, changing, molded by fire,
i am the river that finds
it's way home...
i am not the end of time!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Where's The Freedom And Justice?
where's the freedom and justice?
trapped behind bars
watching lightning fast cars
where's the freedom and justice?
why keep hope
when happiness pops like soap
where's the freedom and justice?
cant breathe
cant leave
where's the freedom and justice?
hate misery
hate mystery
where's the freedom and justice?
you get raped
get interviewed on tape
where's the freedom and justice?
goes to court
but his bad luck is not the unlucky sort
where's the freedom and justice?
he get's away
i like an idea that's revenge is a way!
where's the freedom and justice?
poem by Tesla Blackburn
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Godslayer
Listen
To the horror of satan sea
Listen
To the guns of superman
Well I say
Return to a platinum stranger
Hooked on
The enemy under your skin
Panic
Despite the heart of stone
Doomsday
For all the beautiful people
Hey I know what I want now
And its right in front of me
And I know how to get it
The good things in life are
Always free
Landscape of greed and hate
It keeps me going
Victim of whats inside you
Outside of truth
Only hurts now when I laugh
Live by fire
Forever is a long long time
War is hell
Hanging man twitches in agony
Death rattle shakes itself free
Raise you hand to the mountain
Drown in your own bloody fountain
Shadows become longer the sun
Burns down
Dont need to look I am found
Lucky
If you still remember your name
Freedom
Visions of a showdown
Blood is
Boiling in the midnight sun
Sizzling
Like the enemy under your skin
song performed by by Rob Zombie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Birthing Pains (Day Of Change)
world in turmoil... time of the end, or birthing pains?
peoples of all countries... common, everyday, honest,
hard working, dreaming... battling against the oppression
of the few, those who control, those who profit at the expense
of human life, without remorse! and now we can communicate!
we see each other, we hear each other, as if side by side,
in the battle for human dignity.
should there be hunger? should there be families without
shelter? should there be children without chance? can this
world continue with the elite having too much, and so many
people suffering? no!
birthing pains, a new world, a new day! a cohesive journey
taken together!
freedom demand equality, acceptance without prejudice,
and a fair distribution of what life has to offer! no free rides,
all working together! accepting the need for intelligent
questioning, and for diversity!
the voice of the peoples grows stronger, almost a roar!
it is the day of change!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Who am I?
who am i?
the man who plowed your garden,
and tended your crops;
who hoed the weeds
in the hot summer sun.
i am the man who cut your wood,
sawed it into stacks,
preparing for the coming winter.
i am the carpenter
who built your home;
with boards of flesh,
and nails made of blood and tears.
i am the infidel
who brought you a holy candle,
and made love to you
while it burned down.
who am I
i am the minstrel in your courtyard
dodging bullets and angry lynch mobs.
i am the soldier you sent to battle,
not expecting him to come home.
i am the doctor of your heart
mixing balms of listening and caring.
i am the wolf that mounts you,
teeth gleeming in the moonlight.
i am the prayer you cant put to words,
and its answer!
who am I?
i am the reflection of your face
in the darkened window.
i am the bridge you walk across
to reach tomorrow...
i am the price of a lifetime,
the cost of passion.
i am the fire that burns,
the pot that boils,
the cup that's filled...
i am the colors,
the stink, the raw taste
of living.
i am the hawk that circles
o'er your freedom...
the hand that opens the door!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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