The Scarecrows
i have been wanting to say
everything
yes everything from the most trivial
to the most important
those subdued
those concealed
those that beat in protest
those that can even kill me
or us
because we have been too meek
because we have been to subservient
to the dictates of restraints
look at us
emaciated with suppression
too guilty about unused freedoms
of tools shining inside the cabinets
of some disguises
look at us
we are less human
our mouths thin out
our ears sealing the orifices
of truth
our minds are nothing but plains
without grass
ourselves
scarecrows in the fields
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Denials Kept
Denials kept,
Victimize and kill.
Denials kept,
Protect the sick from ills.
Denials kept,
Do not warm but chill.
Denials kept,
Keep the truth concealed.
Denials kept,
Produce conflicts to fulfill.
Denials kept,
Hides inside those minds that lie...
To themselves with alibis.
Denials kept,
Victimize and kill.
Denials kept,
Protect the sick from ills.
Denials kept,
Do not warm but chill.
Denials kept,
Keep the truth concealed.
Denials kept,
Hides inside those minds that lie...
To themselves with alibis.
Denials kept,
Destroys not create.
Denials kept,
Chases with debates.
Denials kept,
Confuses those who lose.
Denials kept,
Is the choice of fools.
Denials kept,
Hides inside those minds that lie...
To themselves with alibis.
Denials kept,
Victimize and kill.
Denials kept,
Protect the sick from ills.
Denials kept,
Do not warm but chill.
Denials kept,
Keep the truth concealed.
Denials kept,
Produce conflicts...
To fulfill.
Denials kept,
Protect the sick from ills.
Denials kept,
Protect the sick from ills.
Denials kept,
Protect the sick from ills.
Denials kept,
Kills.
Kills.
Kills.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Protrusions and orifices.
It all seems about
Protrusions and orifices.
Evenings in or nights out.
A game of bravado.
Misplaced connections,
Protrusions and orifices.
Is all there there is.
Hoodwinked, gazumped
Winners, losers.
Judgements in the
Asylum of life.
Protrusions and orifices,
Where will it lead?
In new beginnings or
Heartbreak?
Drowning in a bottle of
Sadness.
Protrusions and orifices.
Is the burning of
The tyre machismo,
Anything to write
Home about
To mother or lover?
poem by Peter Vealey
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To Burn Unused
“TO BURN UNUSED”
“To burn unused”
To be needed by no one
A burden to family and friends
A burden even
To the health – care – system.
Useless, sick, old-
Wondering how once a long time ago
One was a human being
And got somehow-
Without wanting or trying to-
To being
Something else.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Guilty
Guilty: For wanting you;
For wanting to touch your cheek;
For wanting to stroke your hair;
For wanting to let your voice wash over me;
Guilty: Of feeling the way I do;
Of dreaming of you;
Of day-dreaming of you;
Of falling in love with you;
Of wanting you for myself.
RG/RR
poem by Robert Green
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Covered Eyes
on covered eyes
amidst the darkness
moonless and
starless
on that quiet patch
of thick grass
we see much better
our ears sharper
our minds
more open
our mouths gaping
our skins sweating
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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An American Prayer
I’m gonna kill, rape and plunder
cause I do what I’m told to do.
My government would never lie,
so I do what I’m told to do.
There are little, brown people
who want to hurt me and you;
so I kill, rape and plunder
and do what I’m told to do.
Well, I kill, rape and plunder
so the rich get what they’re due.
I shut my ears to the screams
of the children that I've slew.
Well, they’re just godless heathens
who don’t believe in good like me and you;
It’s alright to kill’em
before they kill me and you.
They hate us for our freedoms-
not because we bomb them night and day
or starve them into submission-
it’s our Christian duty that we slay.
And so I kill, rape and plunder
and do what I’m told to do
cause I’m a loyal American
and I do what God tells me to.
poem by Kendall Thomas
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Death Row
Guilty by association
Guilty due to unusual circumstances
Guilty by act of contrition
Keep on taking chances
Some lives are not important
Justice is purchased like hot bagels
If you are poor, you can easily find yourselves under the barrels
Some lives are not important
The bulldozer has plenty of time to differentiate
To choose, to pick and to discriminate
Be at the wrong place at an odd time
Is enough to find a pauper guilty of a first degree crime
It is criminal to be on death row
It is illegal and unconscionable to be so low
When the subject is forced to admit guilt
Where Judge and Prosecutors, members of the cult
Plot to convict an innocent bystander
Some lives are not important
This is sad, the jurors are the clowns of the slaughter house
A human being wearing trousers and a white blouse
Should not be treated like a nymph of the meteor crater.
In reality, under the clouds, there is no justice
Somewhere under the cave, there is a long list
Of countless children of the gods
Which have been executed by all types of cruel methods
Some lives are not important
“Thou shall not kill”, is no longer part
Of the Ten Commandments. The machine has no heart
No soul and no sense of fairness
Some lives are not important
This society of savagery and wilderness
Has to change for the better. The killing has to end
The lynching has to stop. Serious men and women must amend
The Constitution to protect the entire population
No one has the right to kill; the Institution
Ought to do a much better job than in the past
Some lives are not important
The system must be fair, blind and just at last
Blame lions, leopards and tigers, not the sheep
Injustice is too expensive and justice too cheap
It is too easy to accuse, condemn and execute
Bring the Bible, the Koran to teach the Blind and the Mute.
poem by Hebert Logerie
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Guilty
Guilty, guilty
Guilty, I'm paralyzed with guilt
It runs through me like a rain through silk
Guilty, my mind won't leave me alone
My teeth are rotted
my lips start to foam
Cause I'm so guilty
Guilty, guilty
Ooohhh guilty
What did I say
What did I say
What did I do
Did I ever do it to you
Don't turn your back, ah
I can't look you in the eye, ah
Eye eye eye eye
I guess I'm guilty as charged
I guess I'm guilty as charged
Guilty, huh, guilty ah, guilty ah, guilty
Guilty guilty guilty guilty guilty
Don't do that
Don't do that
Don't do what
Oh you're such a child
real fool child
Guilty
What can I do
I do it to you
but I do it to me too
Cut off my head
Cut off my head
Cut off my head, ah
Hang me from the yardarm
Guilty, I'm paralyzed with guilt
I've got bad thoughts
I've got an evil clit
Guilty
Guilty, my mind won't leave me alone
I've got a bad mind
I've got a bad bone
Guilty guilty guilty as charged
Guilty
Don't do that
Don't do what
Don't do that
Oh you're such a reckless child
You remember when you were a baby
Do you remember when you were a baby
Do you have a jury, yeah
Do you have a verdict
Guilty as charged
Guilty guilty guilty as charged
Do you have a verdict
Do you have a verdict
I'm guilty
You're guilty
Oh you're such a reckless child
I should beat you
I should hit you
I'll put you in therapy, ah
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Alliteration Anonymous
Optical illusions
Distortions and diffusions
Detrimental depression
Ominous oppression
Severe suppression
Impervious impression
Chaotic compression
Retributive repression
Overbearing obsession
Sickly succession
Optical orifices
poem by Lauren Joy
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Do You Think It's Alright / Fiddle About
(Pete Townshend)
I used to know everything about you
But today when I tried to point you out to one of my friends
I picked the wrong girl again
Don't see you in the crowd anymore
I think it's you but I can't be sure
You're wearing disguises
Occasionally a girl surprises me
When she turns out to be you
Wearing disguises
I don't think you want me to see you ever again
And today I saw you dressed as a flower bed
Last week you had a wig on your head
Directing traffic in the street
And your shoes were too big for your feet
You were wearing disguises
Occasionally a girl surprises me
When she turns out to be you
Wearing disguises
[repeat first verse]
Wearing disguises
Wearing disguises
Wearing disguises
Wearing disguises
song performed by by Who
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Catatonica
As our duet of love, a performance shown, is put upon display for vulgar eyes on the floor; the lights change with painted overlooks splashing their palette of watercolours over our moving bodies.
To the beat we dance, our tune a virgin, for the tune's beat that we dance to is no longer a mere dance away, our dance must fly with this tune in time with the tune's beat and in beat with our dance that we synced to this tune.
We tune our bodies in, tune them perfectly together with not just the beat and our dance, but with each other's minds and each other's hearts.
Within our thin, weak, skinny minds our thoughts think their own thoughts, deeper within our thought's tune and beat it dances inside a caved-in thought of the thinking tune's rhythmic beat timing itself to our dance.
Matching in the sky, our steps amaze, no tune can support us on its waves of notes and colons and no beat can out-beat us in it's own tragedy of percussion.
Our dance is a shaman of ritual love, packaged under the moon's eye for all to see and admire in its own tunefully-beating-dancing light.
We are going to dance forever, dance until there's no dance left in us, dance until our blood mixes with each others and our soul's diseases decay with one another's and we become the dance.
The tune we create in our minds is that of purity, no one will hear this tune except for us. Me and You.
The beats will never fade, no stamp stopped too sincerely, no stomp slacking too slowly.
We're going to dance, we're going to dance, we're going to dance. We're going to dance to our own beat, to our own tune, and to our own love.
poem by April Abigail
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The dove of truth
The dove of truth is sitting in our garden
Our gaze inside the room
Light and truth just outside our window
Our eyes see only gloom
The dove of truth is making dovely sounds
Our ears like better beat and drum
Love and truth just outside our window
But our ears are deaf for them
The dove of truth is still sitting in our garden
Her message clearly there
Love and light just outside our window
But our egos would not care
If just our ego could be silenced
The dove of truth is never far away
Truth, light and love is all around,
Our soul will pray.
poem by Aufie Zophy
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Disguises
I used to know everything about you
But today when I tried to point you out to one of my friends
I picked the wrong girl again
Dont see you in the crowd anymore
I think its you but I cant be sure
Youre wearing disguises
Occasionally a girl surprises me
When she turns out to be you
Wearing disguises
I dont think you want me to see you ever again
And today I saw you dressed as a flower bed
Last week you had a wig on your head
Directing traffic in the street
And your shoes were too big for your feet
You were wearing disguises
Occasionally a girl surprises me
When she turns out to be you
Wearing disguises
[repeat first verse]
Wearing disguises
Wearing disguises
Wearing disguises
Wearing disguises
song performed by by Who
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Believe(From The 60's)
Even though I'm so young.
I still feel so ancient.
Like I was meant to be born in 60's
I believe in honest hard work.
I believe in chivalry.
I believe in taking ten paces before before you kill someone.
Yes I use modern technology.
But so does grama.
Some things will not change no matter the gadgets.
How the game is played is still the same.
Only the technique has changed.
Even though I'm so young.
I still feel so ancient.
Like I was meant to be born in 60's
I believe in the right protest.
I believe less government is progress.
I believe we must protect all our freedoms.
No matter if theirs a gun in my face or not.
You will not silence my speech.
You will not rob me or my family.
No matter who you are.
I never encourage violence accept to defend oneself.
No matter the impeding army.
Or the repercussions of such actions.
It has never been about self sanctification with me.
Protect those you love.
Let only god be the one to judge.
Even though I'm so young.
I still feel so ancient.
Like I was meant to be born in 60's
I believe in honest hard work.
I believe in chivalry.
I believe in taking ten paces before before you kill someone.
Yes I use modern technology.
But so does grama.
Some things will not change no matter the gadgets.
How the game is played is still the same.
Only the technique has changed.
Even though I'm so young.
I still feel so ancient.
Like I was meant to be born in 60's
I believe in the right protest.
I believe less government is progress.
I believe we must protect all our freedoms.
The cosmos is spinning like never before.
In a tell tale destiny I will explore.
For it's my right as a pursuit of happiness.
Let me have my inner peace.
Let me have my warm place to sleep.
Let me afford not to forever starve.
Stop paying farmers off.
No more crops this year.
They have to be destroyed.
Light the fire and just watch them burn.
The thoughts of this bring a sickness to the pit of my stomach.
Even though I'm so young.
I still feel so ancient.
Like I was meant to be born in 60's
I believe in honest hard work.
I believe in chivalry.
I believe in taking ten paces before before you kill someone.
Yes I use modern technology.
But so does grama.
Some things will not change no matter the gadgets.
How the game is played is still the same.
Only the technique has changed.
Even though I'm so young.
I still feel so ancient.
Like I was meant to be born in 60's
I believe in the right protest.
I believe less government is progress.
I believe we must protect all our freedoms.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Peace Weavers Topple Dictators
crazy for the money
hard mean hearted minds?
protest human rights
violations in America China
North Korea wherever violations
occur words can be weapons
honour regime individual rejections
honour voice i am a total misfit
human possibilities potentialities
dwell in souls marching to beat
of not different drums but
harmonic sounds of peace weavers
poem by Terence George Craddock
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All's Fair in Love and War
Going on instinct, wanting to survive
you kill all people both low and high
you hide from sunlight for darkness is your only friend
you must survive no matter what until this war ends
do not feel guitly for the people now dead
they were going to kill you, remember the old quote said
all is fair in love and war and war it is indeed
any tool to survive is all that is in need
now lets move on to love a new kind of sin
doing anything for her to win
her tendernouse and love not knowing what you did
you killed lied and played the others after her in the compatition
you do not feel guilty remembering the truest quote
all is fair in love and war and love is what you value most
she will never know and you cant cheat
all the men that you have beat
love and war, war and love there is no difference
anything to live on is all men commence
so if you come across a man in love or war remember their only quote
all is fair in love and war and they will always boast
that there are no rules so there is no way to cheat
so if you come across a man in love or war, stay out of the way or you surely will be beat
poem by Cat Windham
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The Truth will kill you (comment any suggestions please! !)
The truth will indeed inevitably kill you.
The scars in my soul all seem too real.
The wound is jus too deep to heal.
The truth will indeed inevitably kill you.
The truth will indeed inevitably kill you.
Ignorance is only bliss
Left in this dark, cold abyss.
The truth will indeed inevitably kill you.
The truth will indeed inevitably kill you.
The pain is too much to bare.
So deeply I long to not care.
The truth will indeed inevitably kill you.
poem by Nikki Chauhan
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Politics is the pursuit of trivial men who, when they succeed at it, become important in the eyes of more trivial men.
quote by George Jean Nathan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Politics is the diversion of trivial men who, when they succeed at it, become important in the eyes of more trivial men.
quote by George Jean Nathan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Is Right Can Sometimes Be Wrong
what is right can sometimes be wrong,
like the right of a state to kill,
that to me is wrong,
like the right to have slaves
that was wrong, but they once
thought it was right,
something that feels so right
may, sometimes, be also be wrong,
like feeling love, and too much love
for a neighbor or yourself,
it can be intoxicating at times,
and it can kill you,
because what is right exists only
in our human minds,
limited, too narrow, too
confined in our flesh and blood,
in the context of our culture,
in the frames of our time,
to the dictates of religion
the liberality of our education,
to our biases and prejudices,
what we believe in, what we
touch with faith in dark places
what we try to light with candles,
or see in microscopes or see in
telescopes, or see with our eyes
and hearts wide open,
may still be wrong, or
still be not right,
so what is right after all?
Possibly, this can be right,
But possibly this can also be wrong,
We can always pray. But the doubt
Is always there. Cogito ergo sum.
Who can really be sure?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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