Rebel

The Rebel in Me

There is a Shelley in me,


The presence I can certainly feel,


It’s not that easy to kill,


Or bury under the sea.


 

At times the rebel is of much help,


Acts depending on the situation,


Getting ready to teach Claudiuses, Iagos and Arguses a good lesson,


Paying no heed to their yelp.


 

Nazrul’s boldness in “The Rebel” works as a compass,


Directing towards the way of truth,


No matter how cunning the oppressors are, how devoid of ruth!


Can they dominate forever? When to strike is known to the mass.


 

Being a rebel when needed is something holy,


That’s like putting the first brick,


On the way to form a movement gigantic,


Have to embrace the rationale, even if time flies slowly.


 

I do take pride in being a rebel,


Lord Byron is somewhere at the heart’s core,


Ever helping me to roar,


Before the assembly of jovial noise, not Babel.

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Pardon for our Crimes

 

Don’t tell us what to say; we know what to do,

 

Voting for a criminal to slide in snake boots,

 

Your hissing and reprobation makes to silence debate,

 

No offering for a solution,

 

Creating problems, dressed in the art of rhetoric.

 

The word is that the war is left with right,

 

I’m ambidextrous and ambivalent,

 

With a mouth sewn shut, so I start a bonfire.

 

 

 

No lies can derail us,

 

A puppet’s wires spun, and spun.

 

Convince us of your reason; cannibals of national pride.

 

We work until our tendons become unravelled,

 

Victims of legislation, but our rights are read to us, forced to abide,

 

We seek shelter, but you offer a mass-produced following,

 

Your factory is industrial; we escape on digital enterprise,

 

The truth is what is mine is yours;

 

A criminal in a suit profits more that you, or I.

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Old world poltics are falling apart. Left VS Right no longer applies - people's minds have expanded, information increased widespread. They're not serving their country, just wrestling to get back control.

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transpirit

 

 

..................

 

to you, my teacher, my healing spirit guide,

in my carreer, my sorrows, trials and tribulations,

transformed into joy and peace,

thank you for this morning,

thank you for the signs, 

and the light that shines ever so brightly

within me from your own journey,

this connection so overwhelmingly special,

you know me, and of my path,

 

and i know i'm doing it right now. 

 

greatest healer of all time,

thank you.

 

 

5:59 PM 7/12/2013 ©

 

...............................

Author's Notes/Comments: 

a poem to a friend.

The Call

I looked out to the ocean
Darkness is all I see
But then the Morning Star
Who died and lives for me
For now the night reigns
But for those who’ve been drawn
Do not give up hope
It’s darkest ‘fore the dawn

Cry out you traitors
Your power fails away
In the glory
Of my King’s face
Come back you rebels
Your Father loves you still
And sent His only Son
To bring life you don’t deserve

But be warned
Your cause will not prevail
For nothing can stand against my Lord
All your schemes will fail
Because He loves you
He has prepared a way
To escape His Holy judgment
And live with Him always

Come to the light my brothers
He’s paid the price for you
To give you freedom
But the chosen are few
Can’t you see the battle
That’s waged for your soul
You’re on the losing side
Your “prince” will eat you whole

Listen to this rally
To save yourselves
To give you life
To save your soul from Hell

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Anarchy.

Laces tied with accuracy to our blocky combat boots.
The misty air is tainted with our soldiers woots.

Gut-busting laughter deep and reverberating,
Going to break through what's barricaded.

Slaps on the back and low growls from throats.
As the aligators roam through the moats.

Law-breaking low-blows both here and there;
Doing anything without a care.

The crowd is silenced, oddly enough.
There are the prisoners, bound in cuffs.

All begin to raise blood-painted fists,
With a round of battle-cries long missed.

Together fight just to break the law,
The most unholy thing they had ever saw.

Now see that the moon has switched to it's full;
The enemies know we can't play by the rules.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

ANARCHY!

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Let it be free

Intensity
Just when it's meant to be
I had to see
Indeed, freedom inspired
Moral epiphany
An endless sea of
Gray ambiguity
Promises from political tampering
Primal happiness
Danger free
To each their own
Let it be

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