Commission
Go, my songs, to the lonely and the unsatisfied,
Go also to the nerve-racked, go to the enslaved-by-convention,
Bear to them my contempt for their oppressors.
Go as a great wave of cool water,
Bear my contempt of oppressors.
Speak against unconscious oppression,
Speak against the tyranny of the unimaginative,
Speak against bonds.
Go to the bourgeoise who is dying of her ennuis,
Go to the women in suburbs.
Go to the hideously wedded,
Go to them whose failure is concealed,
Go to the unluckily mated,
Go to the bought wife,
Go to the woman entailed.
Go to those who have delicate lust,
Go to those whose delicate desires are thwarted,
Go like a blight upon the dulness of the world;
Go with your edge against this,
Strengthen the subtle cords,
Bring confidence upon the algae and the tentacles of the soul.
Go in a friendly manner,
Go with an open speech.
Be eager to find new evils and new good,
Be against all forms of oppression.
Go to those who are thickened with middle age,
To those who have lost their interest.
Go to the adolescent who are smothered in family-
Oh how hideous it is
To see three generations of one house gathered together!
It is like an old tree with shoots,
And with some branches rotted and falling.
Go out and defy opinion,
Go against this vegetable bondage of the blood.
Be against all sorts of mortmain.
poem by Ezra Pound
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Related quotes
Senses
Closed eyes too can see
Visuals on heart-easel
Tight lips too can speak
In eloquence expressive silence
Deaf ears too can hear
Thundering miseries all around
Searching senses work
even when locked
Hungry are they; for truth
Eager are they; to revolt
Sans smut and rust
They know their worth
(This poem is about oppression. Oppressors think they are perpetrating their evils without anyone's knowledge. But there are searching senses around, that are sans smut & rust, which are live to their surroundings even when shut and ready to revolt)
poem by Sathya Narayana
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Speak With Kindness (Or Do Not Speak At All)
speak with kindness,
or do not speak at all.
speak not of judgement,
you are not the judge.
speak not of salvation,
let your living be your scriptures.
speak not of scriptures,
let your actions be your holy book.
speak not as apostle or teacher,
speak as a human being.
speak not of god,
then god will speak through you!
speak not as a man,
for you are woman too.
speak not with hateful malice,
for love does not work that way.
speak not as a prophet or seer,
speak as compassion made flesh.
speak not of morality,
speak of connection.
speak not of authority,
the tree and the leaf have just as much.
speak not of holiness,
for all that lives be holy.
speak with kindness...
or do not speak at all!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Speak The Word
Unsettled hearts
Promise what they cant deliver
Bring me the wine
And the cold night air to clear my head
Gray matter memory house
Master of this trembling flesh
Steady still my doubts
Let me speak the word that precedes bliss
Let me speak the word
Let me speak the word
Love love love love love love love love
Let me speak the word
Let me speak the word
Love love love love love love love love
Let me speak the word
Let me speak the word
Let me speak the word
Let me speak the word
These weakened knees
Have not touched ground or pew in ages
I havent bowed my head
I offer thanks to any God or to ask for favors
But watch me now
Im falling down
Praying
To speak the word that precedes bliss
To speak the word
To speak the word
Love love love love love love love love
Let me speak the word
Let me speak the word
Love love love love love love love love
Let me speak the word
Let me speak the word
Let me speak the word
Let me speak the word
song performed by by Tracy Chapman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Who Can Bear in Old Age The Despair of Friends Sick and Lost?
Who can bear in old age the despair of friends sick and lost?
The endless incapacities and infirmities
That deprive us of each other as we wholly are?
Who can bear in old age the diminishing of worlds we knew
And the loss of hopes we lifetime long carried?
Who can bear in old age all these maladies of our own petty meaninglessness?
Only those who can see in the young
Something of themselves or of their own -
Only those who can find in the new generations
Dream and hope for what is yet to come-
Oh old old souls
Speak of your children and grandchildren shamelessly,
They are the light of the world.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Of delicate poems
These poems speak their minds
Be it grief
Be it bliss
But what matters most is that these poems
Have minds of their own
And they do not just listen, and absorb
Or absurd, but what matters most of all
I repeat
For emphasis
For you who like to see
The stone saints along the pedestal
Remembered as you say
By the ravages of the times,
Is that
These poems have minds of their own
And they have mouths that speak,
So delicately, that they have threads
Like tendrils that entwine
A fence
Like it is making love and you watch
It with contempt
But as I see your face
You watch it with envy,
Really, these delicate poems, now speaking
More of grief
Of lamentations
Like a woman veiled and wailing then singing
The most beautiful song of the lost,
Her husband dead
One of the time’s war’s casualties
A grief in a song
And you shall hear it, a grief in a song,
Reverberating through the winds of change
Inside your ear
There are no ballads, or odes to your
West wind
There are none, for in truth, in this world
The ballads are outdated
Run over by the grief of the many
Some even still untold
Waiting to unfold
And you are there, how insensitive!
Telling them to have a grip of something else
Why not walk your dachshund?
And watch it pee beside a tree and
There you watch with so much glee!
poem by Antonio Liao
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We Speak Often
we speak often...
of revolution, yet
we almost never speak,
of the old woman left alone,
her husband dead two years...
who sits in the dark,
and sometimes eats,
and cant see to clean her house.
we speak of peace,
and send troops to liberate,
teaching seperation in our churches.
we speak of hope,
yet horde all we can,
and keep our revolvers loaded.
we speak of justice
in terms of 'i' and 'they'....
and applaud wordplay in our courtrooms...
we speak of equality,
then call each race by name,
and demand that they speak english.
we speak of god as holier than thou...
never understanding dialogue and dissolution....
we speak a lot, yet cannot listen...
what fools we are!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Speaks!
clouds speak...
with ancient cathedral voices,
but only to those who listen!
babies speak...
with first cry at light,
only mothers' ears hear!
bombs speak...
but never of freedom,
oppression's lies, loud and brash!
hunger speaks...
distinct human faces,
lost to the indifferent roar!
lonliness speaks...
lost in self losing color,
black and white emptiness!
God speaks...
but no one listens;
lost in those clouds,
slowly drifting away!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Benefits of a Suppression
As a show of unified belligerence,
They defy truth...
And those who speak it!
Coming together as they do,
In a mental collective sickness.
One of consciousness would not believe,
If not witnessed.
It is a torture of sorts.
An oppression they have been taught,
To self inflict.
And they get upset...
Quickly!
If anyone mentions it.
Or assist in its resistance.
This is a brand of slavery,
Without an appearance of a branding done!
And yet accepted by everyone addicted.
For all of the benefits,
Of a suppression they get!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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If My Oppression Has No End
I
If my oppression has no end,
even if I am downtrodden when my life is spent
I will receive it as if from the hand of God.
If my oppressors take everything that I own,
not only the two cars, which they have already stolen,
if my oppressors by acts of law,
by affirmative action take away
all means to make a living,
I will still rejoice in the love of God
as everything is permitted by Him.
II
Lord God, see me in my awakening
when the sun rises every morning,
be my companion, that leads on the way
when all my dreams are shattered,
when my enemies gather
and are joyous over my destruction,
when I loose hope, then please have mercy
and show Your saving love to me.
[Reference: “From Prison” by Todros Ben Judah Abulafia.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Influence
We are all just a canvas
media is the artist
if you let it shape you
the big companies the largest
try to brain wash what they think is true
but I was raised by my dad a working man's
morals of wrong and right
not afraid to stand up and fight
I want to be free of oppression
no more neglect and aggression
blood is the nations confession
we want progression
Thanks to the media we got kids
confused about love and lust
its hard to trust
we gotta educate the mind
cant sit back and recline
while watching the world become cold
It's effecting the
young and the old
If only we could unite but instead
social classes are what
I see in this site
I want to be free of oppression
no more neglect and aggression
blood is the nations confession
we want progression
eagerness to learn should bring us closer
together
we will never surrender
I speak for the families that
dont eat
the mothers and fathers
who cant sleep with the
daily stress of bills on
their minds and hoping their
landlords will let them stay
another day
free of pay
a revolution is the solution
to fight the mind pollution
Unity will be the conclusion
I want to be free of oppression
no more neglect and aggression
blood is the nations confession
we want progression
all the hate with money at the core
if food wasn't so expensive
and gas prices were lower
maybe crime rates
would climb slower
we need to make a change
I want to be free of oppression
no more neglect and aggression
blood is the nations confession
we want progression
poem by Jeremy Rascon
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Only for you
I can bear any insult
I can bear any misdeed
I can bear any oppression
I can bear the wounds of love or
Those of hatred
I can bear everything
But only for you God
Only for you.
poem by Mohammad Akmal Nazir
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A Family Is Like A Tree
A tree is like a family it starts
out very small but it soon begins
to grow and the family too also
grows.
The tree starts out with small branches.
A family ita a child.
as the years go by they have all
grown together.
Soon the tree has been generated with
new branches and too the family expands
not with branches, but generations.
.Their both so much a like in so many
ways., if nurtured and taken care of
they both will grow straight. and tall.
And generate many new branch
and many more generations too
come as the tree grows old
some branches will die and fall off.
When the generations of a family
get old they too will die off.
But both will leave something of
themselves behind.
.
To live on for many generations of
life and many generations of branches..
GAYLE GOFF
2008
poem by Gayle Anne Goff
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I Shall Speak
I shall speak of rivers
and I shall speak of streams,
And I shall speak of how they flow
and seep into my dreams.
All the waters pure and clean
purify my thought.
I think how marvelous that I've seen
that which can't be bought.
I shall speak of hillsides
and mountains as they rise.
And I shall speak of how they look
and brighten up my eyes.
All the rises grand or small
expand just how I feel.
I think how wonderful that I've known
what no one can conceal.
I shall speak of beauty
and I shall speak of love.
And I shall speak of how they mix
and take me far above
the ordinary happenings
and events that fill my day.
I think how fortunate I have been
when my breath was taken away.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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The same state of the passions which fits the multitude, who have not sufficient stock of reason and knowledge to guide them, for opposition to tyranny and oppression, very naturally leads them to a contempt and disregard of all authority.
quote by Alexander Hamilton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Young Poets
You speak for the lakes, the trees and the birds
You say what they'd say if they had the words.
Make PEACE and be proud, choose well every choice
Speak HOPE and speak loud, you are Nature's voice.
Speak with respect now, for jungles and streams,
Speak for all wildlife and dream giant dreams.
Speak with great courage, speak up and speak out,
Write with a whisper or write with a SHOUT!
Stand up young poets for clean air and rivers,
Free verse or lyric; your message delivers...
Truth to the future citizens of earth,
Speak of your freedom your friends and self worth.
Speak for tomorrow and though you're still young,
Speak for the Forest, your pen is her tongue.
The world waits to hear your songs still unsung
Words posses power, you can write the wrongs
Teach us and lead us with Poems and with songs.
Speak now for nature, for trees and for birds,
Defenders of Earth choose carefullly your words!
poem by ToddMichael St. Pierre
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Speak Not To Me Of Hell....
there is no need to speak to me of hell.....
i hear the cries of women and children
dying in the bombing...
i feel the tears of mothers burying
their only sons.
i reel with the hunger,
of refugees and homeless families.
i hurt with the anger,
of the poor and desperate.
i can smell the failure,
that drives people over the edge.
i am imprisoned,
with those behind your bars...
speak not to me of hell,
but rather redemption and action...
poem by Eric Cockrell
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It Appealed....
It appealed me less when she cried
It even puzzled me when she lied
It even terrified me when she tried
'Love, happy valentine day' gently said
It is always nice to feel good about
Friends, relatives, near ones and who are out
Little urges arise in the remote centre of heart
Bring us together in times to come as living art
It is not mere exchange of pleasantries
In our life there may be several entries
But when some one enters all of sudden
It becomes unique in chance as very golden
You need some one to talk and move with
Confide in person and free the tongue from teeth
Prison gate opens up with lot more thoughts to release
What a situation to find with and live at ease!
Flower presentation may have been easy medium
Where eyes meet with eagerness and tongues keeps mum
No need to speak a word but only exchange of lovely rose
As if to speak thousand words in one word and suppose
Very delicate situation when you are seized with uncertainty
There is no time to think of and take help from almighty
Complete mind is diverted to single point programme and action
There is no time to think about other things and awaiting reaction
I hope world rejoices at this small token with joy
Somewhere takes place harmonious tuning to enjoy
Many feel whole world under their feet
So much to speak, converse and finally to greet
We have come closer indeed
At some point we have forgotten the lust or greed
It is sincere desire to think and cement the bond
Push everything aside and to take place at second
I wish and pray for this lovely day to do much more
Open the new avenues for world community to explore
We have no time to observe and feel delicate touch
Let us join together and feel warmth of feelings as such
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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O Germany, Pale Mother!
Let others speak of her shame,
I speak of my own.
O Germany, pale mother!
How soiled you are
As you sit among the peoples.
You flaunt yourself
Among the besmirched.
The poorest of your sons
Lies struck down.
When his hunger was great.
Your other sons
Raised their hands against him.
This is notorious.
With their hands thus raised,
Raised against their brother,
They march insolently around you
And laugh in your face.
This is well known.
In your house
Lies are roared aloud.
But the truth
Must be silent.
Is it so?
Why do the oppressors praise you everywhere,
The oppressed accuse you?
The plundered
Point to you with their fingers, but
The plunderer praises the system
That was invented in your house!
Whereupon everyone sees you
Hiding the hem of your mantle which is bloody
With the blood
Of your best sons.
Hearing the harangues which echo from your house,
men laugh.
But whoever sees you reaches for a knife
As at the approach of a robber.
O Germany, pale mother!
How have your sons arrayed you
That you sit among the peoples
A thing of scorn and fear!
poem by Bertolt Brecht
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Speak easy
Ever had so much to say but cannot find the words, when you do you just do not have the nerve.
Waste time, time wasted over what might be said, conversations played out only in your head.
Silence is golden so they say, time keeps ticking its running away.
Never runs back just out of control, do soul searching to find the know.
The words you find seam just too few, say nothing at all keep it in you.
If spoken aloud could set you free, there inside, somewhere in me.
Maybe a magician could bring it to light, maybe a strong man to fight this fight.
Speak easy when spoken, say it so clear, I fear, these words, never hear.
The less you speak the more that is herd, screaming out loud not saying a word.
Speak easy to you, few words need say, speak easy to me, time slipping away.
poem by Gary Kedron
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Speak Gently
Speak gently! -- It is better far
To rule by love, than fear --
Speak gently -- let not harsh words mar
The good we might do here!
Speak gently! -- Love doth whisper low
The vows that true hearts bind;
And gently Friendship's accents flow;
Affection's voice is kind.
Speak gently to the little child!
Its love be sure to gain;
Teach it in accents soft and mild: --
It may not long remain.
Speak gently to the young, for they
Will have enough to bear --
Pass through this life as best they may,
'T is full of anxious care!
Speak gently to the aged one,
Grieve not the care-worn heart;
The sands of life are nearly run,
Let such in peace depart!
Speak gently, kindly, to the poor;
Let no harsh tone be heard;
They have enough they must endure,
Without an unkind word!
Speak gently to the erring -- know,
They may have toiled in vain;
Perchance unkindness made them so;
Oh, win them back again!
Speak gently! -- He who gave his life
To bend man's stubborn will,
When elements were in fierce strife,
Said to them, 'Peace, be still.'
Speak gently! -- 't is a little thing
Dropped in the heart's deep well;
The good, the joy, which it may bring,
Eternity shall tell.
poem by David Bates
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