Terrify Me,
Make me fear the consequences of my actions,
There's no justice here.
As I stand and work for the world I want to see,
with your laws and calls for silence,
Terrify Me.
Accuse my fellows of terrorism,
Try to rule us by fear,
Deny our rights when used against you,
Jail us till the end draws near,
And when I don't Give a damn about what you do
or who you be,
well, fuck it, just try harder to terrify me.
And as you claim to feel me coming
by the prickling of your thumbs,
I warn you to get ready, something fearless this way comes,
you can tell the world my secrets,
cast aspersions on my name,
take my money and my life,
the fight continues just the same.
So if your looking for an enemy who won't admit defeat,
go ahead AETA laws,
Try and terrify me.
(I wrote this one last year, and once again its part of a series, I'm posting another from that series in a few minutes. and i have it on good authority a couple of people are planning on submitting work to the blog, i'll post it as i receive it.)
Showing posts with label free speech. Show all posts
Showing posts with label free speech. Show all posts
Saturday, February 16, 2008
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Silencing The Artist - 2053
Her hands tremble as she runs them across the canvas,
Red streaks like blood,
Something from nothing,
Cool wet color staining hands,
Depicting chaos to preserve order, sanity,
The illusion of control.
They came to her domain today,
the witch hunting, terror seeking, expression banning - the Silence laws
came too close green now on her fingers moving on the canvas- it's useless,
the Speakers are disappearing, the advocates are enriching the soil as forget-me-nots grow above mass graves.
They are banning her art, her life, they are killing her like they did her child.
Examples must be made, she imagined they said over coffee,
Lets make it easy, let's have a contest.
Her baby, her 8 year old baby with the hands that never stayed clean
with the smudge of yellow acrylic paint always on her right cheek
won the country wide art contest and they shot her baby
for creating a painting that made people hope, talk, dream, and the war against expression raged on
Blue streaks on a canvas her mind is gone,
It's a blank canvas. it's a new sheet in an eight year-old's sketch pad.
her body clings to paint and surface in the absence of mental direction.
it tries to make something from nothing;
order from chaos.
Sanity is gone with the hands stained with marker and paint.
She saw her baby fall dead with a hole between the eyes as a
fear ridden government painted terrorists on the air with her blood,
and the approaching Silence draws nearer.
so there you have it the second in the Silence series, hope you like it, or better yet, i hope you write something that outshines it and let me know so I can post it. thanks to those who've shown interest :)
Red streaks like blood,
Something from nothing,
Cool wet color staining hands,
Depicting chaos to preserve order, sanity,
The illusion of control.
They came to her domain today,
the witch hunting, terror seeking, expression banning - the Silence laws
came too close green now on her fingers moving on the canvas- it's useless,
the Speakers are disappearing, the advocates are enriching the soil as forget-me-nots grow above mass graves.
They are banning her art, her life, they are killing her like they did her child.
Examples must be made, she imagined they said over coffee,
Lets make it easy, let's have a contest.
Her baby, her 8 year old baby with the hands that never stayed clean
with the smudge of yellow acrylic paint always on her right cheek
won the country wide art contest and they shot her baby
for creating a painting that made people hope, talk, dream, and the war against expression raged on
Blue streaks on a canvas her mind is gone,
It's a blank canvas. it's a new sheet in an eight year-old's sketch pad.
her body clings to paint and surface in the absence of mental direction.
it tries to make something from nothing;
order from chaos.
Sanity is gone with the hands stained with marker and paint.
She saw her baby fall dead with a hole between the eyes as a
fear ridden government painted terrorists on the air with her blood,
and the approaching Silence draws nearer.
so there you have it the second in the Silence series, hope you like it, or better yet, i hope you write something that outshines it and let me know so I can post it. thanks to those who've shown interest :)
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
2056 or The Future without Change
There was silence in the streets today,
In all of them,
In Atlanta,
In Dallas,
In Houston,
In Philadelphia,
In LA,
In New York,
There was silence in all those streets in those cities,
And in all others,
Silence in every city in the United States.
The people walk softly and drive cars that make no noise.
The tapping of feet on sidewalks could be Morse code, and since the war was lost all communication comes at risk.
The war between the government and its people has been lost.
There is no free speech.
We are allowed no opinion.
No song can have meaning, no poem express emotion,
No painting can be more than a likeness.
The last free speaker, a famous infidel, a useless martyr was shot outside my window last night and then the man who shot him was gassed to death. The sound from the shot had echoed, the government couldn’t know whether it had been an accident or a secret code.
Better dead than uncertain.
I cannot say that that was bad,
I cannot say that I wish for better,
I cannot tell you how I feel or that I feel the silence is spreading to other countries.
I cannot tell you the stories of my mother, of the first Silence,
Of cd’s broken and books burned.
I cannot tell you or some fool will kill me too loudly and die for imagined free speech.
It’s 2056, it’s 2056, it’s 2056, but it started with a 7, it started with a 7, it stared with the SHAC 7.
Jailed in 2006 for having a firm position and convincing too many people, for speaking out too well for speaking freely the histories call them terrorists but what does that mean when walking too loudly gets you prison and interrogation, when possession of an Ipod gets you death?
The land of the free and the home of the brave is a terrified nation of weaklings and slaves now in 2056….
Wait! I shouldn’t have said that - the spying computers and cameras are buzzing the alarm. What can I say for my last words? I have no daughter to pass the story to they broke down the door they’re coming up the stairs remember me
Remember killing in the name of the Silence, remember books and music and remember art with meaning. Remember the SHAC 7, Remember the SHAC 7 It’s 2056, it’s 2056, it’s 2056,
Remember free speech.
I wrote this poem after hearing the story of the shac7. 6 jailed originally, 1 freed for having served his time. you can learn more about them at www.shac7.com.
I've written poems about the original Silencings ( the ones that killed free speech in art, books, music ect.) and will post them soon
In all of them,
In Atlanta,
In Dallas,
In Houston,
In Philadelphia,
In LA,
In New York,
There was silence in all those streets in those cities,
And in all others,
Silence in every city in the United States.
The people walk softly and drive cars that make no noise.
The tapping of feet on sidewalks could be Morse code, and since the war was lost all communication comes at risk.
The war between the government and its people has been lost.
There is no free speech.
We are allowed no opinion.
No song can have meaning, no poem express emotion,
No painting can be more than a likeness.
The last free speaker, a famous infidel, a useless martyr was shot outside my window last night and then the man who shot him was gassed to death. The sound from the shot had echoed, the government couldn’t know whether it had been an accident or a secret code.
Better dead than uncertain.
I cannot say that that was bad,
I cannot say that I wish for better,
I cannot tell you how I feel or that I feel the silence is spreading to other countries.
I cannot tell you the stories of my mother, of the first Silence,
Of cd’s broken and books burned.
I cannot tell you or some fool will kill me too loudly and die for imagined free speech.
It’s 2056, it’s 2056, it’s 2056, but it started with a 7, it started with a 7, it stared with the SHAC 7.
Jailed in 2006 for having a firm position and convincing too many people, for speaking out too well for speaking freely the histories call them terrorists but what does that mean when walking too loudly gets you prison and interrogation, when possession of an Ipod gets you death?
The land of the free and the home of the brave is a terrified nation of weaklings and slaves now in 2056….
Wait! I shouldn’t have said that - the spying computers and cameras are buzzing the alarm. What can I say for my last words? I have no daughter to pass the story to they broke down the door they’re coming up the stairs remember me
Remember killing in the name of the Silence, remember books and music and remember art with meaning. Remember the SHAC 7, Remember the SHAC 7 It’s 2056, it’s 2056, it’s 2056,
Remember free speech.
I wrote this poem after hearing the story of the shac7. 6 jailed originally, 1 freed for having served his time. you can learn more about them at www.shac7.com.
I've written poems about the original Silencings ( the ones that killed free speech in art, books, music ect.) and will post them soon
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