Archive for February 13, 2012


How can it be in a society

Where democracy and children

Run free where stories are

Told that somehow should

Be old and never seen again

Of children going hungry

Of not eating for days with

The family all going through

The same hell how can it be

That these stories are not

The one’s they sell on the

Front page who says what

Is to be news who is it that

Will choose that we know

Not of misery for I say let

Their children eat rats too

And we’ll change the news

To be

http://news.bbc.co.uk/panorama/hi/front_page/newsid_9695000/9695217.stm

How quickly that notion of
Mortality does run head on
Looking confrontation when
Deaths head rises like the
Sun blotting out all before
It making one blind to all
Else to be seen not able to
Distinguish colour or what’s
In front let alone where ones
Been for death has a way
Of confusing us almost as
If trying to amuse us when
It acts indiscriminately for
None can say who’s next or
That there is some kind of
Test for us to be taken selectively
How quickly that concept
Runs from all sensibility

That coldness that moves so
Quickly chasing the last heartbeat
Deep down into the body as
If so doing could be found that
Magic spark of life before it
Is extinguished and seeps into
Air or ground to once again
Be part of the universe back
To where it was found long
Before it’s birth and introduction
To earth and elements that
Gave it physicality back to
That coldest place there could
Ever be back to not knowing
But being able to see the love
Of a sunrise or warm summer
Breeze on a September night
Or the crashing of the wave
Just as spay and sound are made
Showing it can behave if it
Wants to
That coldness that moves so
Quickly is coming next for you

To see death creep into
The eyes leaves no misgiving
That once you’ve let the
Living there are no more
Cries no more goodbyes no
Longer need of giving or
Receiving spiritually for
All slowly seeps away and
What is not seen is felt
In a way that goes beyond
Mere words or whispered
Sounds or being disturbed it
Is such an emotion as to
Make one choke and gasp
For air less we not breath
And somehow be conceived
As also not being there in
Reality and the land of the
Dead too dragged to be for
Ever more for to see death
Creep is to know down deep
That life be desired even more

Its easy to be nice for an
Hour or two and pretend
That to the other your true
For a day or maybe a week
But tell me who do you know
That has walked the distance
They speak with time passing
Have their judgements been
Lasting that ultimate test of
Time and reality and the way
It has the ability to change
Ones point of view
Its easy to be nice for an
Instant but it’s the lifetime
That will be remembered and
How you will be seen it is those
Things that will pass reality
And slowly creep to dream

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