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Freedom Years

As the day draws near to my Freedom's reprise,
Oft-lost am I in thought, as I surmise
The wonder of the great and boundless skies,
Under which the majestic American Bald Eagle flies!
This is soon to be the scene of my soul's rebirth-
The whole of this great, magnificent Earth,
Where no longer will my liberty be restrained;
My mirth may no longer be contained-
It is as free and boundless as I am soon to be,
With as much unfettered Freedom as I am soon to see!

Naught may contain my jollity, as days draw down-
I am, as the majestic Eagle-I may not be bound,
By anything any longer, as my Freedom nears, -
Soon, very soon, I begin again, a celebration of my Freedom years!

Maurice Harris,7 September 2011

poem by Maurice Harris
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My Friend, Freedom

It is represented by the Stars and Stripes,
The American Bald Eagle, and all types
Of other things, too numerous to mention;
It is invaluable, but it is no sort of invention;
This audacious ideal we call Freedom-of choice,
Of religion, of the press-which gives a voice
To everyone, no matter how meek they may be!
When free, Freedom is all that they may see-
But when they are not, are they then blind
To all they once saw, but now do not find?

This may be like vacation to some, but not for me-
Not especially, for one, as I, who fought for Thee!
Freedom, my long lost, life-long friend,
When will our agonizing estrangement finally end?

Maurice Harris,23 July 2011

poem by Maurice Harris
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Universal Freedom Is......

Freedom from hunger and freedom from pain
freedom from loss and so freedom from gain.
Freedom to give and freedom to share
freedom from want and that of despair.

Freedom to think and freedom to know
freedom to achieve and freedom to grow.
Freedom from bondage and freedom of liberation
freedom from ignorance and any unknown situation.

Freedom to come and freedom to leave
freedom to stay and freedom to conceive.
Freedom from struggle and freedom of ease
freedom to enjoy and the capacity to please.

Freedom from failure and freedom of success
freedom from denial and freedom of access.
Freedom from illusion and freedom of reality
freedom to become what we are in actuality.

Freedom to live and freedom to die
freedom to laugh and freedom to cry.
Freedom to speak and freedom to listen
freedom to act based on a wise decision.

Freedom from hate and freedom of love
freedom of below and freedom of above.
Freedom of the past and freedom of the present
freedom of the future and what it can represent.

Freedom from war and freedom of peace
freedom to begin and freedom to cease.
Freedom from sickness and freedom of health
freedom from poverty and mishandled wealth.

Freedom from wrong and freedom being right
freedom of the day and freedom of the night.
Freedom to choose and freedom to reject
freedom to imagine what there is to expect.

Freedom from lust and freedom from greed
freedom from anger and freedom from breed.
Freedom from jealousy and freedom from pride
freedom from within and freedom from outside.
Freedom of always not having anything to hide.

Freedom from space and also freedom from time
freedom from attachment and freedom from crime
Freedom to work and freedom to play
freedom to believe and freedom to pray.
Freedom to experience a rebirth someday.

Freedom from the body and freedom from the mind
freedom from the ego and freedom from being blind.
Freedom of transcendence being of the spiritual kind.

Universal freedom is eternal and infinite bliss
we should all therefore be able to realise this.

poem by George Krokos
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There Is Something In The Soul That Cries Out For Freedom'

'There is something in the soul that cries out for freedom';
There is something in the heart that bleeds for another;
There is something in the mind that wants for equity;
This travesty's exodus from each is needed, for long-sought finality-
To banish forevermore, this all-too-pervasive bother;
But one answer presents more than ever-I need Him!
Should my penance of today hasten this liberty,
I would want for naught else, but that given me;
Alas, freedom purloined by another's whimsy
Is not freedom at all, but fallacious and flimsy;
If need be, I shall bide still, and wait
For time and distance to further abate
What is now overwhelmingly, painfully real;
This is all I may do, until I finally begin to heal!

*Martin Luther King, Jr.

-Maurice Harris,14 Febraury 2011

poem by Maurice Harris
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Freedom

What does freedom really mean?
My mother letting me make decisions,
That is freedom.
The ability to make my own passion,
That is freedom.
Smiling when I want to not someone else does,
That is freedom.
My own love for my family,
That is freedom.
Being able to have a great time without being pressured,
That is freedom.
Having a destiny that is up to me,
That is freedom.
Being able to sit in tranquility by myself,
That is freedom.
Standing for my country with liberty on my own will,
That is what freedom really is.

poem by Bethany Maxwell
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Old Glory Stands Alone

The stark white expanse, only broken by a grave stone,
Makes the Stars and Stripes seems to otherwise stand alone;
Truly, the only sign of color as far as the eye may see,
Old Glory stands alone, at The Forefathers' Cemetery.
A gentle zephyr begins, the flag begins to flap,
Maintaining sentry over many a soul, in an eternal nap!
Above, a majestic American Bald Eagle flies,
And peers down, with a sense of pride, we may only surmise,
Then, with what looks to be a very coy smile,
He turns abruptly, in a most majestic style!
The scene repeats in places both far and wide,
Where it evokes an immense sense of American pride
To all fortuitous enough to partake in its splendor-
The country we love is full of them-this is but one wide wonder!

poem by Maurice Harris
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When The Eagle Cries

Another day, just like any other
out of the blue, it turned to horror
How could they? Why would they?
The innocents suffered hell's inferno
An senseless act that goes unforgotten
How could they? They will pay.
(Chorus)
When the Eagle Cries (5x)
Out of the ashes came a tempted vengeance,
but we are focused, we seek redemption
we are free, we'll stay free
All they've done, is make us stronger
The sleeping giant, is asleep no longer
If need be, we'll die free
(Chorus)
When the Eagle Cries (blood will flow)
When the Eagle Cries (for freedom's fight)
When the Eagle Cries (we love us all)
When the Eagle Cries (we'll sacrifice)
When the Eagle Cries
When the Eagle Cries (blood will flow)
When the Eagle Cries they made us stronger (for freedoms fight)
When the Eagle Cries we'll sacrifice (we love us all)
When the Eagle Cries for freedom's fight (we'll sacrifice)
When the Eagle Cries

song performed by by Iced Earth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Extension 33

Living at the y, extension 33,
Nothing to care or to worry.
Once I was in love with a blind man,
But my auntie told me, dont do it, its not worth it.
Living at the y, 33 years,
No one to call or to write to.
Once I was in love with a married man,
But my instincts told me, dont tell him, itll kill you.
Im sad I didnt marry the blind man,
But whats a life with three blind children?
Im glad I never told the married man,
It saved my pride and freedom.
Living at the y, in 33 rooms,
Nowhere to visit or write to.
Once I was in love, it nearly killed me,
But now I have my pride and freedom.
Freedom, freedom, freedom, freedom,
Freedom, freedom, freedom and pride.
Freedom, freedom, freedom, freedom,
Freedom, freedom, freedom and pride.
Freedom, freedom, freedom, freedom,
Freedom, freedom, freedom and pride.
Freedom, freedom, freedom, freedom,
Freedom, freedom, freedom and pride.
Freedom, freedom, freedom, freedom,
Freedom, freedom, freedom and pride.
Freedom, freedom, freedom, freedom,
Freedom, freedom, freedom.

song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ne'er Again, Ne'er Again

Today, yet another impediment to my liberty
Has fallen-I wonder what this means for me? !
Could my freedom be near at hand, at long last?
May soon, the day come, when I may look past
All that has happened, and finally start anew?
First though, I must pick up the pieces, to rebuild my heart anew!
Mine faithful patience has outlasted it all-
Now only, may I move from under this iniquitous pall.

Once freedom is again mine, I shan't take same, for granted-
Nor shall I ever forget all that this freedom supplanted;
I've so much I want to do, so much I wish to see-
Yet, I only have one thing that I wish to be-
A Father- to the two most Angelic little ladies there have e'er been;
For far too long we have lost, -ne'er again, ne'er again!

-Maurice Harris,8 April 2011

poem by Maurice Harris
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Freedom Is…

Freedom…
Freedom…
What is freedom?

It’s a footprint in the sand…
A whisper on the wind.
It’s a thought…
An emotion.
It’s a choice…
A gift.
Freedom is what freedom is.

Freedom is a pot on the stove…
The water in a glass.
It’s a smile on a mouth…
A tear on the cheek.
It’s a choice…
A gift.
Freedom is what freedom is.

Freedom is a breeze in your hair…
The heat in the air.
It’s the heart in your chest…
The veins in your arms.
It’s a choice…
A gift.
Freedom is what freedom is.

What is freedom?
Freedom is what freedom is.

poem by Stacey Stevens
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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
justice justice justice justice justice justice justice justice
justice justice justice justice justice justice justice justice
freedom freedom freedom freedom freedom freedom
freedom freedom freedom freedom freedom freedom
justice justice justice justice justice justice justice justice
justice justice justice justice justice justice justice justice
freedom freedom freedom freedom freedom freedom
freedom freedom freedom freedom freedom freedom
freedom freedom freedom freedom freedom freedom
freedom freedom freedom freedom freedom freedom
freedom freedom freedom freedom freedom freedom
justice justice justice justice justice justice justice justice
justice justice justice justice justice justice justice justice
freedom freedom freedom freedom freedom freedom

poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Absolute Freedom

Freedom from within
Freedom to think beyond universe
Freedom from living up to other ideas or expectations
Freedom to stand against all odds
Freedom from gods will
Freedom from triumph and disaster
Freedom from democracy and aristocracy
Freedom from scams and scandals
Freedom from caste, creed and color
Freedom from meaning less dogma
Freedom from fear and hatred
Freedom from life and death

poem by Sunnieyd Inquilab
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A Slaves Beginning

Freedom, freedom
All wrapped in chains
Written, Said
It's all the same
Once free and alone
Now bound with one
Chains with freedom
Screaming in my very soul
An oath
A desire
The song deep within
Freedom
Freedom
Freedom with chains

poem by Janelle Morehart
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My Definition Of Freedom

what a simple word.
sweet to the lips yet costs to attain. Who amongst u is really free
Do u even know what it is to be free?

What is ur definition of freedom?
Is it being loose and giving ur body to anyone withiout consensus?
Then how do u percieve feeedom?
Is it despising morals, ethics, respect and correction?

Is that ur meaning of Freedom?
Let me break it down for u.
Freedom, my Freedom, our freedom. Freedom is knowing the extents to wich God went to save ur life but still have respect for humanity.

Freedom is knowing that u don live under law but grace and still cling to this grace.
Freedom is to know that ur records of wrongs have been erased but u still strive for perfecion.
Freedom, My Freedom, Our Freedom.

My freedom is not a vote.
My freedom is not a govt designed system and terminology but My Freedom is the son of God. My Freedom is he who overcame death.

My Freedom is he who was before the beggining began. Freedom My Freedom Our Freedom is Jesus.

poem by Mbaimbai Phathutshedzo
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Whose Freedom?

Freedom, freedom, freedom!
Whose freedom?
My freedom, your freedom, our freedoms;
Like e thousand times of a cry in a land!
Yes, they rule with iron-hand but,
We have to obey always;
A rule with an iron fist but,
We have to be the subjects always;
Whose freedom?

Look around you,
It is full of colours;
My freedom, your freedom, their freedoms!
Freedom, freedom, freedom! ! !
We nedd freedom than these shackles.

Whose freedom?
Free-free-free! Freedom to my people! !
Which people?
My people, your people, our peoples;
Have mercy on them and rule them with care.

We need freedom around us,
Whose freedom?
See the type of governments around you;
The people's freedom with an iron fist!
Tell me if all is well.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Freedoms.

Freedom to write...
Freedom to swear.

Freedom of the right...
Here or there.

Freedom to vote...
To give your views in note.

Freedom to sing...
To wear a ring.

Freedom to talk...
About, most any thing.

Freedom to eat and drink...
Even free to not bathe, and maybe even unusually stink.

Freedom to think...
And form opinions.

Freedom to judge...
Even if someone thinks you wreak.

poem by Michael Gale
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Freedom Is Never Free

They tell me
'Freedom is never free.'
I know that-
More than most realize.
Freedom cost us more
Than we should have to give.
Freedom cost us blood.
It cost us the lives
Of our fathers,
Our sons,
Our brothers.
But while freedom is never free,
Remember-
It has been bought at great price,
And so is a thing of great value.
We must defend it,
From those who would take it away.
The defense of our freedoms
Will cost us-
More than we wish to pay.
But we must pay, to defend,
For if we try to make freedom free,
We forget-
True freedom is never free.

poem by James Grengs
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Honor Them

They are California 'kids' and New Englanders, through and through;
They hail from Iowa cornfields and Texas plains-
They are men and women ready to sacrifice
Their lives in the name of liberty-most would, twice!
With a selfless sense of purpose, they serve
So that all who crave freedom, get what they deserve;
This is why they suffer mnay and great pains,
This is why they shall always do what they do!
Honor them-either through remembrance or gratitude-
As they guard us, with a vigilant, selfless attitude;
Freedom is not free, they pay its price-
'Liberty and Justice for all'-anything else does not suffice;
So long as there are men and women willing to protect this,
There need be many others, who recognize and respect this!

-Maurice Harris,4 November 2010

poem by Maurice Harris
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Freewill of Freedom

Some believe freedom
Is far or high
So we climb mountains
And reach for sky
As freedom is sought
Through liberty of will
Falsly measured
Next to how we feel
Freedom is lost
When fought to achieve
Standing beyond limits
Most fail to believe
Freedom is not to be taken freely
So how are those asleep
Claiming to be awake
Freedom is grace of freedom alone
Alone for freedoms sake

poem by Jahrae Lii
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Did You Say That Your Only Freedom From Pain Is Death?

sad indeed,

there are other freedoms
still

freedom from having no ideas, from this dryness,
freedom from having you
as a poet on forced wit and half-cooked cleverness
freedom from a reader
who has nothing to offer
except his own loneliness
his having nothing to do
freedom from beng bored
to death
freedom from having nothing
to say and comment
freedom from this feeling of emptiness
this bigotry
this indigestion of dumb thoughts
freedom
from impertinence, immateriality, irrelevance,
freedom from thinking about freedom
freedom from freedom itself
there are more

freedom from pain
is useless now

that you are dead.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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And What About Freedom?

sad indeed,

there are other freedoms still
freedom from having no ideas, from this dryness,
freedom from having you
as a poet on forced wit and half-cooked cleverness
freedom from a reader
who has nothing to offer
except his own loneliness
his having nothing to do
freedom from long bored
to death
freedom from having nothing
to say and comment
freedom from this feeling of emptiness
this bigotry
this indigestion of dumb thoughts
freedom from impertinence, immateriality, irrelevance,
freedom from thinking about freedom
freedom from freedom itself
there are more
freedom from pain
is useless now
that you are dead.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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