Culture/Society

Water Monument

Folder: 
Women Are Spirit

Next to the monuments to

famous men of action

are often reflecting pools

or lakes:

monuments to their wives..



a place of receiving

not of imposing



the stone in the statue

is inert while the water

continues to empower

Author's Notes/Comments: 

It is not known by
all that upon Thomas Jefferson's death over 200
of his slaves were
sold on the auction
block.. slaves in many cases who
had worked for him
their entire lives

Jefferson fought to
make Missouri a slave
state..

His legacy lives on
as both Missouri
and Virginia are
in the execution column
of states with racist
patterns of imposing
the death penalty

View saiom's Full Portfolio

Sara Mosher Listens







by David Arthur Walters



Just what is it about Sara Mosher that makes her so perspicacious? Why does she have such an incredible insight into other people?  What is the secret of her success in that regard?



Of course, many of you have not heard of Sara Mosher. You do not have the slightest idea of who she is. Nevertheless, you are probably interested in knowing how anyone can gain an intimate knowledge of other people, even of complete strangers, in a short period of time.



Who is Sara Mosher? She is a  woman I encountered on one of the electronic magazine web sites that provides anyone who wants to write with a virtual writer's community. Those sites now enjoy growing popularity due to the accelerated decline of the art of personal conversation in our society, which favors remote, impersonal means of communication. Ironically, it is the very absence of adequate personal relations that attracts many people to the remote means of communication alienating them.

View davidwalters's Full Portfolio

American Dream

Succeeding in everything you do

Not taking 'no' for an answer

Your people are smart and strong

Tackling every problem that will occur



The American Eagle flies

Spreading its wings looking over you

Do you think it is proud of this,

Or does it think its just a bird above?



The forests across the land

All have spirited and stories to tell

Would any of sit and listen

Or wait until each tree fell down?



The flag is mighty and strong

With meaning of very much

A symbol that people respect

But remember feelings and life attached



People of today should teach

What your children would love to learn

Remember the history and the nature

And let the fire of spirit burn bright

Author's Notes/Comments: 

i dont know if all of you may agree with what i have put in the poem, but i wanted to say what i liked and respected about america. and the history of the natives is amazing

View dragon's Full Portfolio

Society

Morphing for you

That's a total crock

I see no futute in that

No positive path



What's the point

Why go this way

Who are you trying to impress

Frankly , I think you're an ass



Total bullshit a crock of shit

I don't like it , one last bit

Conformity is so fucking dumb

You're nothing but a sorry ass bum



Who cares what society has to say

What I say is society can suck it

It's all a bunch of bullshit



What's the point

Why go this way

Who are you trying to impress

Frankly , I think you're an ass







Do this, do that

Society's wisdom toward the weak

Listen to that and your true self

It has no chance to reach its peak



Who cares what society has to say

What I say is society can suck it

It's all a bunch of bullshit



Bullshit , Bullshit , motherfucking bullshit! (

Author's Notes/Comments: 

be who you want to be, dont just be "accepted" , fuck that

View nirvana_owns's Full Portfolio

Personality

Taking my personality away,

Step by step , day by day.

Wondering how much longer I can proceed,

Wondering what made it come to this,



Struggling to coexist

Fighting to be myself

All I say is let me be

I'm gunna act just like me



It's my personality , why can't you see?

Leave me alone , let me be

Go from here , let me be

This is me , its all I know

Just Go! Go! Go!



You call me freak

Thanks for that , I agree

I'm a freak , it's who I am

I aint afraid of that , so why are you?



It's my personality , why can't you see?

Leave me alone , let me be

Go from here , let me be

This is me , its all I know

Just Go! Go! Go!





Being  a victim of conformity,

I find that quite disturbing,

I'm going to be different,

Don't fall into that bullshit.



I'm different,

I'm odd,

Don't mess with me,

Just 'cuz you cannot see



Who I am,

What I stand for,

You've become prey,

To This society



Not me

I'm on my own



It's my personality , why can't you see?

Leave me alone , let me be

Go from here , let me be

This is me , its all I know

Just Go! Go! Go!


Author's Notes/Comments: 

why cant people just allow difference instead of insisting everyone follow the "norm"

View nirvana_owns's Full Portfolio

The Puppeteer

Isn't it ironic that the seeds of this earth are the cause for its own demise?



Reasons for this ageless conundrum has been translated in many forms...



Is it man's own greed to dominate the exaggerated population's insecurities with madden fascism?



Is it the obscurity of love and the multitude of hazardous forms that disguises it:



The disarray of lust & passion.

The mistaken panacea that masks a dismal reality.

The slow self-decomposition of a heart that has only found failure or the absence of this stimulant.



Is this how the puppeteer wanted it to be?



Or is it that our daily endeavors are the puppeteer's form of entertainment.



Perhaps we're mere players in the puppeteer's traveling sideshow.



Controlling us with the invisible strings of fate.



Manipulating us into dancing the dance of redundant life.



Balancing the scales of good and evil in our ongoing performances.



Are we truly the prime product of Gepetto's craftsmanship?



Insignificant playthings that are the star thespians of the puppeteer's theater we call; home...

Author's Notes/Comments: 

One of my more earlier pieces I found in my portfolio. I think I was being a bit pretentious with this one...

View techpoet's Full Portfolio

Two Treasures Of A Day Gone By

Today, beside a little park

on the other side of town ~

I came upon a hot dog stand.

What a treasure I have found!



An umbrella of bright red and blue

opened wide across its top.

Guarding over its precious cargo of ~

hot dogs, chips, and soda pop.



With all the charm, of days gone by,

it stood beneath the shade.

Beside the stand ~ a darling man,

the truest treasure of the day!



Eighty, at least, he had to be.

He was so proud to be of help!

As he put together my two hot dogs,

he began to tell me of himself.



He said, "My name is Harley.

I know I appear a little worn.

Welcome to my hot dog stand!

A new friendship has been born.



You have to tell me slowly,

how your hot dogs should be made.

It seems that my darn ole memory

Is not too good these days.



I am here, Monday thru Friday.

I work from ten till three.

Please, if you like my hot dogs,

tell others about me.



I have a little trouble with my feet,

but if you have the time,

I will help you get these to your car.

The pleasure, is all mine!



You will not find a better dog.

This I gaurantee!

No fillers or perservatives

will you find here with me.



Grab yourself a soda and some chips,

as a gift from me.

You have helped to brighten up the day

of this  old man, of eighty-three."



I know that he will cross my mind

for many days to come!

To this charming man, and his hot dog stand ~

I wish for ~

only sun!












Author's Notes/Comments: 

I was so charmed by this little man and his hot dog stand, that I plan to make at least one trip a week to see him.  In my part of the country, in the heat of summer it can get to 120 degrees!  The winds can sometimes gust to 50 mph.  He explained to me that he is always at his stand, come what may, Monday thru Friday ten till three.  He has been doing this now for about five years. He told me, "Ah, I don't make much money... but I make plenty of friends!"  I only pray that I will not visit one day and find him gone. What a tribute to his erra! This quaint little man and his cart of yesterday, has truly touched my heart!  Here's to many more hot dogs between friends Harley! ~Lesa~

View aspiringangel's Full Portfolio

The Drama, Your Trauma....

The drama/ your trauma/ the headaches-

those who oppose me/ they die/ family cries/

their existance is a lie/



i try to be friendly/ the world turns me deadly/

the game stays the same/ some praise a wooden Jesus/

others blame him for their lives/ your personal savior/

ran out of lifejackets/



my Lord/ your God/ "is he the antichrist-

he's coming/ so they say/ find a way to be forgiven/

given a day by day/ step by step we climb/ but if you

fall/ don't bother to get up/



shut up/ OBEY!/ your a puppet to my master/ no strings

attached/ control of your soul/ no more spiritual glow/

how low will you go to enter the heavenly gates/



an outcast/ advocate to the devil/ my level is higher then

lower/ slower than normal/ formal appearences throw you off

track/ in fact there were times i used to smoke crack/



the story of my life/ ends with no glory/ i chose/ free

will overturned my decision/ stay calm/ don't panic, satanic

thoughts will burn you for eternity/ my role/ purpose for

living is unknown/ flown overseas and back/ the answers to

this caos are nowhere to be found/



society/ this government won't leave us alone/ coversations

are tapped/ so keep them to a minimal/ this valley/ the alley

streets inbetween/ stranger's eye lurking for you/ focusing on

thee!/ your moves they know/ thru' your roof they watch with

infrared/ no warnings or warrants/ no knocking/ so they ram down your doors/



while your asleep/ home invasions/ like a thieve/ privacy obselete/ a probable cause is all they need/ the sluts/

corners full of whores'/ bitches in heat/ pulling tricks/

don't get caught with your pants down/ the embarresment will

be more expensive/ than a minute of sex/



in the end who will reign/ evil seems to have a lead/ at least

the righteous are absent/ paving the road for the injustice/

Author's Notes/Comments: 

my drama is living, your problems cause the trauma....

View soulkritic's Full Portfolio

RAT RACE.

No time, no time to follow the flight

Of a bird in the sky aloft,

No time, no time to ponder the sight

Of the billow of cloudmass soft.



No time to stand in the forest grand

Where the pine sings the tree-top psalm.

No time at all to answer the call

Of the wild hill's rolling charm.



No time to pass in the fragrant grass

Immersed deep in a world of dream.

No time to gaze in the morning haze

By a bubbling, tumbling stream.



No time to explore the briny shore

Where the sucking surf comes sweeping,

Where white-breast gulls on currents soar

With hearts full of joyous leaping.



No time to hold a summertime flower

And smile at its beauty so bright,

To breathe earth fresh after summer shower

As it bathes in the sun's delight.



No time to stand in the velvet night,

Its soft, soothing balm absorb,

Arrayed in cascades of silver light

From bright face of its smiling orb.



No time, no time for such pleasures pure,

Cruel dollar's a hard task-master.

He keeps us forever insecure

And prods us on, harder, faster.



No time have we rats to lazily drift,

We have to keep up the pace.

Our feet must run on the treadmill swift

To come first in the human race!






Author's Notes/Comments: 

As one poet put it...We have no time to stand and stare...What a shame!

View kiwi's Full Portfolio