Times Like These
At times like these who can say
This is right or that's the way?
Black seems white or is white gray?
And right was wrong the other day.
Once in vogue, it holds no sway.
To march, to march, but not to pray.
Rights are sought, but who will pay
The cost of duties they portray?
Fears and fights and friction may
Obscure our goals and cause delay.
Yet we must work and hold at bay
Forces of evil which will betray
Self and country when they bray
That rights and wrongs are both okay.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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Related quotes
The Soldier Fights
the soldier fights for the hippys rights to protest against that soldier
the soldier fights for the politions rights to send that soldier to war
the soldier fights for buisness mans rights to make money
the soldier fights for the policemans rights to arrest that soldier
the soldier fights for school kids right to know about past soldiers
the soldier fights to so that you may all sleep at night
the soldier fights for religion so that you may all belive what you wish
And yet the soldier fights on
the soldier fights for his flag, for his country, for his life
We so Great
we so great
we all want
to be somebody
seeking him
in the moon,
in the star,
in the sun
we so great
we all want
to be somebody
seeking him
till the ends
of the universe
in ourselves,
in friends and foes
in the almighty,
we so great
we all want
to be somebody
some do it right
some do it half right
some just plain all wrong -
not an echo of themselves
we so great
we all want
to be somebody
despite all the odds
the rights learn
from half rights
and the wrongs learn
from all wrongs
we so great
we get the world going
with all the rights
wrongs, half rights
and half wrongs
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Colors of a Fallen World
Purple pages of my heart
Bruised to black by ink pen
Frozen in an icy mist
Cauterize my wounded soul
Gray and bleak my future seems
Correct the wrongs
And wrong the rights
Crimson blood pours
From every orifice
Deceit poisons human existence
Pregnant with immorality
The world swells with pride
Given in to satanic influence
The earth bleeds yellow
Stain the white
With your green lies
And hope the blue
Stays opaque
Heal the bruises
Black to skin
Paint a rainbow promise
And fail to keep it white
Love the world in red
My eyes go blind
With fear of black
Tears of blue soak in
It’s not enough my friend
The world is black
And death is abundant
Sin rules purple
And love fails white
Pink flowers wilt and gray
My purple pages stay black
poem by Jennifer Sollmann
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You March On
You, unknown traveller of untreaded path
march on, march on, march on
will reach your destination
one day
though far off
march on, march on, march on.
Look back, never, even by mistake
forget, never, the hardships you bore
guide, will be your past deeds of life,
full of pangs on the bed of stake
What holds destiny?
Not to worry?
............Just march on, march on, march on.
Adversities make you a fast learner
Desires are snakes, so be a shirker
search the deep sea to find a pearl
get to the shore, while facing the whirl
Think never to be feeble & meek
deliver everyone from the misdeeds
while truth you seek
clear all hurdles regaining your strength
you will reach the destination
march on...march on....march on.
Carve out your name on the horizon
as your stars are on the ascendant
work towards the goal night and day
be illuminated in such a way
sluggish should appear the milky way
You, unknown traveller of untreaded path
march on, march on, march on
will reach your destination
one day
though far off
march on, march on, march on.
poem by Tribhawan Kaul
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Equal Rights,2011
equal rights to live,
equal rights to love.
equal rights to believe,
to speak out, to stand up
and be counted.
equal rights to work,
equal rights to study.
equal rights to build.
equal rights to profess faith,
equal rights to pray.
equal rights to give...
equal rights to live,
equal rights to love!
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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I am a white man, I believe. Will anybody undertake to teach me what are the antipathies and loathings of white men? What mean whites may or may not like is of small importance. But the generous soul of my
race, which has led the van in the great march of liberty and civilization, and whose lofty path is marked by the broken chains of every form of slavery, has an instinctive hatred of injustice, of exclusive privilege, of arrogance, ignorance, and baseness, and an instinctive love of honor, magnanimity and justice. The white soul of my race naturally loves the man, of whatever race or color, who bravely fights and gloriously dies for equal rights, and instinctively loathes every man who, saved by the blood of such heroes, deems himself made of choicer clay.
quote by George William Curtis
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Sometimes I think you have to march right in and demand your rights, even if you don't know what your rights are, or who the person is you're talking to. Then, on the way out, slam the door.
Jack Handey in Deep Thoughts
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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0019 A passing thought
It's a society of rights -
and duties too? Oh, that can wait.
Anyone has the right
to dress up as a black pillar-box
with an anonymous lady inside
or I, I guess, in
the equivalent -
my sex-object status disguised with
hoodie, balaclava helmet
and perhaps a large backpack
with my favourite alarm clock
ticking away inside
wojja mean rights come with duties
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Freedom Is Not Free
Per an erudite analysis of my country's history,
One thing is sure… my freedom is not free!
I do what I want and criticize those who lead.
My rights are assured because they're decreed.
These rights were purchased with blood and tears
By my forefathers and soldiers today who, through death and fears,
Have had the courage to fight for rights they believed
Were and are necessary to maintain freedom they conceived.
These rights I demand and the freedoms I assume
Are in fact not automatic and can easily spell doom.
If I'm too busy with my little world to care about my nation,
My leaders' own self interest can only lead to devastation.
My rights have obligations to keep me and my country free
If I'm too busy to exercise them, I'll be part of a tremulous tragedy.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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March
Were I young again
and the month of March
were upon me
I'd skip down the road,
do a march to March,
sing a tune to March
dance a dance to March,
risk a prance to March,
strut and grind and do
a break dance to March.
Hop, skip and jump to March,
just like a the girl I used to be,
once upon a time in March,
when my cheeks had high colour
and my hopes were high.
poem by Ruth Walters
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Peace
Peace is white
White be, a dove, a flag
High snow, higher clouds, higher more twinklings
White is tranquil, honarable, reliable, honest and decent
But white is dubious too
As the sparklings dotted in black sky
And black is immoral, bad, evil and sorrow
Yet black is utile too
Like these writings on peaceful white
White is the most sought
As wite is peace disliking conflicts
Yet peace is stuck with wars 'cause
Providence eventuates agitating criminal energy
Beyond love and hate, pain and pleasure
Hidden in is peace special
An exclusive providence unknowing to create evil
poem by Indira Renganathan
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I wonder what a bus ticket buys
The driver fights with a passenger
that she thinks sleeps at times
on the top level of the bus
and something must be wrong
in her life
as she climbs into a child
because he did not take a school bus
I wonder what
a bus ticket buys,
but it stays far better
to take a bus
than to have to walk a long distance.
I wonder
if it takes a special person
to drive a bus,
or what rights it gives
above that of other people
if you climb behind the steering
of a bus?
Somebody asks the white
bus driver lady
for what she is looking
this morning and suddenly
she’s silent
and I can ride in peace further
while she swallows her tongue.
Bus drivers that are rude
I have experience a lot of times
and it has happened
that one stares hateful
at me
because I am white
and wanted to cut
every ticket of the coupon.
Still I am thankful
to use a bus
when I need one
and that some drivers
makes it a pleasure
to drive with them.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Nobody performs her or his duties. Governments do not, because they do not know, they are not able or they do not wish, or because they are not permitted by those who effectively govern the world: The multinational and pluricontinental companies whose power — absolutely non-democratic — reduce to next to nothing what is left of the ideal of democracy. We citizens are not fulfilling our duties either. Let us think that no human rights will exist without symmetry of the duties that correspond to them. It is not to be expected that governments in the next 50 years will do it. Let us common citizens therefore speak up. With the same vehemence as when we demanded our rights, let us demand responsibility over our duties. Perhaps the world could turn a little better.
quote by Jose Saramago
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Human Rights’
In a civilised land
That accepts duty to all
Citizens have rights
Some great, some small
This is how things should be
To those who value
Truth and fairness
And justice and decency
But those who treasure money
And the power of wealth
Seek to remove such rights
Through deceit and stealth
They claim that duty
Comes before such rights
But they accept no obligation
For causing another’s plight
Obligation before rights
Is their loud refrain
But fulfilling their own duties
Is something they distain
For rights are for the powerful
Whilst duty is for the poor
And decency and justice
The Country provides no more
Human Rights matter
To ensure justice for all
For saints and for sinners
For all people great and small
The alternative is ugly
With justice a forgotten myth
With power replacing fairness
And a society that is truly sick
poem by David Chalk
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Racism Poem - Where Racism matters
i live in a country
multi racial in nature
where certain communities
enjoy special rights
the politicians keep asking
why there is racial polarisation
well, if i have special rights
i will make sure i really
get the best deal of it all
i will not be a stupid fool
or even modest
no two way about it
that includes telling others
to be aware that they do
not have special rights
drawing the line doubly clear
just in case they
infringe on these rights
rights to everything special
housing, education,
medication, career advances
etc, etc, etc
and of course
i would make
every citizen aware
they are living in a society
where racism matters
because it is a matter
of life and death
for those with special rights
and of course for those
without the rights to
keep decently quiet about it
or else these special rights
could mean the rights
to take away things
dearest to them
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Black men, White men
should i be led to believe
that the white men's heart
is soft as cotton? and when
touched, is torched, bursts into flame
to settle comfortably in black,
a trail of humble lesson for the soul
should i be led to believe
that a black man's heart is
full of courage? charging like a bull
through America black or white
settling for nothing in between?
should i be led to believe that
black and white work the
theory of ying and yang
ever balancing to rev up the world?
rice would even grow in bush
black hair turns eventually into
a crown of white wisdom
and blackboards light up
knowledge in white chalk
white shines at its best in black
and where else but a piece of white
where black could make its clearest stamp
of its stand - left or right, right or wrong
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Deep Level Concern
deep level concern;
our own national parks
used as collateral
on loans from China!
water rights to the Great Lakes,
and other bodies of water here...
sold to China!
our jobs, Joe blue collar working
families.... sold to China!
our oil profiteer wars,
financed by China!
sleeping with the country
with the worst human rights record,
dancing with the devil!
and now, our own police forces
committing acts of violence
and oppression against Americans!
against American people protesting,
standing up for freedom and equality!
standing against the profiteers!
reacting the same way,
and with the same types of oppression,
as China!
our rights,
...our freedom,
......our dignity.
even our rights to work and survive....
sold to....
.....and even worse,
...........sold by!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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0004 M i n d
and mind might ask,
why then are brain cells gray? Is it
because the world is just
so wonderful, that they, stunned
and amazed, cannot decide
which colour to praise first?
(Mix all the colours of the paints,
and the result is gray.)
or is it because they feel themselves
so dull in comparison
with the miracle which is creation,
the miracle they (miracles themselves) , faithful, serve?
(Mix all the colours of the spectrum,
and the result is white.)
or is it, because they know
their work lies between ultimates
such as (do they themselves
call them this?) black,
and white? do they know
their work is equity –
to balance all things, so that gray is not gray
as we use gray for worldly metaphor; but
the gray of lakes at peace;
of silver that lives in itself,
needing no sun but its own innerness;
mercury that is moved but longs
to be united in a perfect sphere;
gray of clouds that know
the blessings that they hold;
and, the shining gray of mind -
for which gray hair is living metaphor,
the wisdom which life holds in store for you -
as how many poets, this moment round the world,
are joining new electric paths of thought between
these tiny, great gray worm-like cells which hide, compact,
their vast and inner space which spins out eager words
of metaphor, for that so nameless,
boundless, dazzling spectrum,
the radiant space of self?
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Black and White
They fights their fights and they hunt their game,
As they did before the white man came,
Far in the unexplored Outback,
Where still Australia's mostly black.
They little know of white men's laws,
Or of Australia's cherished cause,
Or any of that bag of tricks
Of policies or politics.
Yet, tho' they little dream of it,
Our wild black brothers do their bit;
For while they hanker for a fight
They help to keep Australia white.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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