Thursday, January 13, 2011

Poetry, Songs, Art, Philosophy, Hats: The Finer Things

So I've decided to just write some poems for y'all. I don't care for iambic pentameter, formal poetry structures, etc. because I don't care enough about this to actually look up these rules for poetry. So here are some random poems I just composed.

When I look in your eyes
I can only hold my head high
And resist the urge to sigh
You see, we were born to fly
You and I might die
But then we would die free
Free from the shackles of earth and sea
Free to be, free to see the greatness in you and me
Can't you see?
Like our ancestors before us, we could fly away
Fly away to a land, where joy shall never fade
If you could open your eyes you would find it already made
Our chains that keep us enslaved can be destroyed
Really nothing more than toys for those who exploit us
You and I must do for you and I
Cuz the Revolution Will Not Be Televised
Open your eyes and free your mind.

Another random poem composed on the spot

I would love to go home, if I had one
From here to Avalon, I aint got none
Trapped in between 2 worlds divided
I'm a bridge in between that collided
Is there any hope for this land?
The so-called land of the free, home of the brave?
Is there any justice for the other world, below the sand?
In this netherworld, too many only find a grave
As an observer of both worlds, the situation is dire
People suffer on both sides, through wind and fire
In truth, the ghetto is in much greater ire
The people labor and tire in the mire
The cesspool of America, where people only want a chance
They're despised, forgotten, and thrown with the trash
Indeed, what more can I say
Hopelessness seems to rule the day


Sing a song for the man who defied all expectations
The hope and fervor built up in this community
Was only dashed and gassed by his deceptions
So while we wait and pray for some immunity
This man lives well and pretends he can't see
The great sea of poverty in our communities
We should've known better
Of course, who would've known?

Okay, I give up. Poetry is much harder than it looks...


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