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Poetry


Prophecies Are For Violating

By David Swanson

I wrote a review of Karen Malpede's new play "Prophecy" when I had only read but not yet seen it. Karen read the review and invited me to lead the first in a series of talk-back discussions following performances in New York, and I did so on Wednesday. For that incredible privilege I'm glad I wrote that early review, but I'm sorry it was so insufficient as an attempt to convey the intensity of the phenomenon that is "Prophecy."

America, The Imperial

By Sherwood Ross

I write to you in my last hour

In the last hour of the night

The hour of fear before the light

The hour of persecution and execution

Of the headsman’s bloody institution

Of prisoners dragged from their cells

Hearts pounding, legs trembling

Piss-soaked with fright.

I write to you from the land of discredited dreams

Of delicate white petals spilled upon the floor

Like semen wasted in the fingers of a whore

Of American dreams twisted into nightmares

Of a president’s lying schemes

For which Christ has no parable, no metaphor.

I write to you when poets are beaten in the streets

When students are shot dead for protesting war

When men earn their bread making killing machines

And never question what their work is for.

I will show you the land of the dying cities

Where the many see little hope to get ahead

Lowkey - Obama Nation (Official Video)

LOWKEY - OBAMA NATION (OFFICIAL VIDEO)

THIS TRACK is not an attack upon the American people
It is an attack upon the system within which they live
Since 1945 the United States has attempted to
Overthrow more than 50 foreign governments
In the process the us has caused the end of life
For several million people, and condemned many millions
More to a live of agony and despair

And the War Goes On...


And the War goes on...
By Eden Holend Roemer | Puppetgov

And the War goes on…

In dregs and druthers

Band of brothers and sisters

Foot soldiers

Are the chosen few

To go and do

What we dread to tread

And still they have to do….

This thing this aweful terrible….

They wing it

Un-responsive detachment unbearable

Cause that’s what they are ordered to do

To do this thing

And the beat throbs and sings

Calls the fist to jawline stings…

1-2 punch in endless fling

with pain... Read more.

My Book Is Now Available from Publisher Before Stores Get It

"Daybreak: Undoing the Imperial Presidency and Forming a More Perfect Union," by David Swanson is due in stores September 1st, but the publisher has it now and you can get it straight from Seven Stories Press.

Memorial Day

Memorial Day
By Gary Corseri

I am sick of the voices of heroes!
They cry from maniacal graves:

“Why do you hurry and turn away—
You who are warmed by the sun?

“Once a year, on a ‘solemn occasion,’
You come for public mourning.
Officers offer orisons.
Politicians ply for votes.

Torture: Crime Versus Punishment

Torture: Crime versus Punishment
By George Giacoppe | Splinters

We have our ways
On the ship of State
To win your praise
While pushing fate
For the detainee
That is so unlucky
To be positioned
For Inquisition
And then to drown
While we clown

I can no longer remain silent on the false debate on torture.

May 2: A Saturday in Spring

May 2: A Saturday in Spring
By Richard C. Cook | www.RichardCCook.com

Today, amidst the flowers of springtime, all I really want is to be able to listen to the Silence.

Silence is the place from which every created thing originates.

Silence is the source of “the peace that passeth all understanding.”

Silence is the space between thoughts.

Being in Silence is the greatest of all freedoms.

Life and death are the coming out of Silence and the returning into it.

Big Money

Listen to Big Money (v2).

Lyrics:

intro

listen up my friends it's time we paid attention

an age old specter knocks upon our door

phantom financiers hell bent on domination

they are closer than they've ever been before

it's Big Money's plan to own us for their pleasure

it's Big Money's plague that blackens all our dreams

where Big Money meets lies hidden from all measure

what Big Money says is never what they mean

John Mellancamp: "Troubled Land" 2008

Hurricane on the horizon
Judgment getting closer all the time
I can't find tomorrow
Bring peace to this troubled land...

The eyes of heaven are upon you
But so is the soul from down below
They'll cut off your fingers
To bring peace to this troubled land

Well you can stand up and holler
You can lay down and die
Bring peace to this troubled land

First Poem

By Huck Gutman

It has been exciting and nerve-wracking, both, to think about what poem to begin with. I’ve considered poems by William Carlos Williams, Baudelaire, Melville, Dickinson, Eugenio Montale, Zbigniew Herbert….

I have chosen a poem by the Polish poet Zbigniew Herbert because it seems to follow so naturally from what I wrote in my introductory message: Why should we read poems?

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