Showing posts with label voice. Show all posts
Showing posts with label voice. Show all posts

Tuesday, February 27, 2018

Let the Children Cry Mashup poem from The Cry of The Children by Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Do ye hear the children, O my brothers,
      Ere the sorrow comes with years?
They are leaning their young heads against their mothers —
      And that cannot stop their tears.
The young lambs are bleating in the meadows;
   The young birds are chirping in the nest;
The young cats are meming in the internet;
   The young flowers are blowing toward the west—
But the children, O my brothers,
      They are crying bitterly!
They are crying in the playtime of the others,
      In the country of the free.

Do not tell the poor young children, O my brothers,
      To look up to Him and pray —
So the blessed One, who blesseth all the others,
      Will bless them another day.
They answer, "Who is God that He should hear us,
   While the bullets singe the air 
While you take this bitter fear and trap us
    In concrete prisons without cheer?
Would you have us never see the sunshine,
   Or enjoy the light of day?"
Yes, they are worn with tragedy, unrelentingly maligned
But they're not bowing to the greed of the NRA.

They look up with their pale and sunken faces,
      And their looks are terrible to see,
For their grief abhorrent, draws and presses
      Down the cheeks of infancy—
"Your guns," they say, "took the life of our dear friends
   How can you justify these means  or defy our ends
We need gun control," their voices ring out clear
   They need to know  this time, will you hear?" 
And for all the little children whose blood is on your hands
   Will you stand up and do the right thing
Words are so very cheap. Now, in this time of tragedy
   We should let the children weep.

      Let them weep! let them weep!

"How long," they say, "how long, O cruel nation,
   Will you stand, to move the world, on a child's heart, 
Stifle down with a mailed heel its palpitation,
   And tread onward to your throne amid the mart?
Our blood splashes upward, O our tyrants,
      And your purple shews your path;
But the child's sob curseth deeper in the silence
      Than the strong man in his wrath!"

A.J. Ponder with many apologies to  Elizabeth Barrett Browning  (The Original Poem "The Cry of the Children is here. It was written to protest horrific child labour laws, but it's protesting the same people - people who profit off suffering, or use God's will to justify the unjustifiable)

I've been absolutely blown away by how well the young adults of Parkland Florida have bravely stood up to tell their stories and call for sensible gun control. And I've been absolutely horrified by the abuse they've received online. These young adults should have had time to weep, but knowingly or not, we've been preparing them all their lives for this time.

Let me be very clear, I have family who love their guns - I am not advocating taking their guns away. Nor are those teens. They are calling for sensible gun measures. There's no point blaming the FBI or local law enforcement for these events when their hands have effectively been tied by poor legislation. Gun control is a part of being civilized, just like wearing seat-belts. It's a little something that is regulated, not to undermine freedom, but to recognize the sanctity of life.

“Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly.” MLK 

A.J. 

Have a great week everybody. Go out and do great things, the world needs you. :)

Tuesday, February 20, 2018

Voices of the Future

If the kids can see the future
Can you see the future too?
If the kids can be the future
Then what are we to do -
But stand up with our voices
And do all we can today,
To remember their tomorrows,
And not let their lives be swept away.

A.J. Ponder

There are so many issues that affect the children of today, and the world tomorrow. We need to be doing something about them now. And that's not necessarily big things. Every little thing will help, from not using a plastic bag, to having sensible gun control legislation, sensible legislation of drugs,  improving voting rights... The list is endless. Individually we can't do everything. But if we can remember one thing, I'd say it should be love and compassion for our fellow human beings, and holding out an open hand in times of trouble.

But whatever we do, we must not let the next generations' voices be silenced -


"Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that." MLK

Best wishes to you all
A.J. 

Tuesday, November 14, 2017

Voting Rights Anthem & does Twitter really need all those words?

We can't wait
in every district, every state
paper, pen get it done
voting rights for everyone
#democracy

Okay, twitter decided to increase the limit on the number of characters, but just in case they go back to the old standard, this little ditty - at only 101 character including spaces and hastag - this would still work.

Proving 1: increasing the number of words was silly, as longer ideas could be linked to anyway.
2: important ideas can be expressed in very little words. Hell, you could cut the first two lines and be down to 58 characters.

And of course there's the idea that started this poem: the idea that voting rights should be universal, and beyond reproach. Just like having more women in politics, it appears we also need more people supporting voting rights in key locations. So remember, democracy is not a spectator sport, so we should all do what we can, so we can all have a voice. :)

Have a great week
A.J. Ponder

Tuesday, December 6, 2016

The Art of Modern Warfare with Words

They shall frame you,
then they shall destroy you,
mark my words,
there is no middle ground.

First they demonised the poor
for the crimes of the rich
Then they demonised the Muslims,
to steal oil
Now they're framing the Jews
with an old lie,
an evil lie
to stop you from seeing the whole picture.

They shall frame you,
then they shall destroy you,
mark my words,
brushstrokes matter.
 
We, the people,
are not the threat
The threat is the obscene voice
of corporations
A voice that has corrupted
the politicians
A voice that has corrupted
the media
A voice that
calls to your fears
and twists them.

Once they've framed you,
then they shall destroy you
Mark my words
the fight is now,
or not at all
As the media bows to
the narrative,
their integrity as
bought and sold as the politicians
receiving tobacco PAC cheques
on the house floor.

They shall frame you,
then they shall call you violent
and place the gun
They shall accuse you of the crimes
they have committed
They shall pay a pittance
and take everything -
water
freedom
your very life
and when there is nothing left,
they will blame you.

So please break the frame 
before it destroys you
Mark my words,
there is no middle ground -
unless you stand up -
unless you say no -
unless you yell the truth
like the smallest Who in Whoville.
Please make a noise,
just a yip or a squeak,
because
you are
our only hope.

They shall frame you,
then they shall destroy you
Mark my words,
the fight is now
or not at all.


A.J. Ponder



There is a companion poem for this piece, published 5 years ago, it's called Perspective.  http://anafflictionofpoetry.blogspot.co.nz/2011/03/tuesday-poem-perspective.html

So how is your world being framed?

1. Lying by Omission
2. Controlling the Debate
3. Scripting and Synchronizing News
4. Politicizing Everything  
5 Chasing and creating buzzwords and memes
6. Asking the Wrong Questions
7. Closing down the topic - or airing it like the birther conspiracy long after it was dead.
8 Triviality and Distraction
9. Outright Lying


It's time to fight for our rights #noDAPL #livingwage #HumanRights #sustainability #eco #climatechange #change #education #green #impact #peace #democracy #defundDAPL #PoliticalPrisoner #environment #pollution #climate #globalwarming #solar

Peace Out :)

A.J. Ponder




Tuesday, November 11, 2014

Tuesday Poem: The Return

did i hear your footsteps
o prodigal son?

i glanced out the window
but your vision was unclear

were you standing at the door
or lying far from here?

-The hunter long since hunted
and the race was overdone

the requiem is missing
and the eulogy's been sung-

and yet i find i'm standing here
just waiting at the door

i stop
to hear the voice
that i shall hear no more

A.J. Ponder


Yes I'm back! And with a poem, I really like this one (am I allowed to like my own poetry?) It means things to me, I hope you find meaning in it as well.

It's so good to be back after an all too busy time, a few deep breaths, a goodbye, and next week perhaps a hello to the future and a return to the fantastical! :)

So see you some time in the future, where you may find there's been some trouble with time machines :) But for poetry now - you can't beat the Tuesday Poem.

cheers,
A.J.







Tuesday, November 23, 2010

Murdering Poetry

I would kill
for a voice that could read poetry
as finely honed as a boning knife
Plunged into the heart.

Incisive as fangs
sliced across arteries
spilling blood in fountains
onto the slavering faces
of howling wolves
 
My cheerful brogue slipping
into dark nightmares
and flourishing
as a bone deep canker
eating you away
from the inside
and slipping
the noose
tight 
around your neck
until the air
kicking under your heels 
is still.

See, the powdered words
no longer dry upon the page
arise
a poisoned ink
that flows
within your veins
and through your soul
until your heart
no longer pains
and your death is wholly 
entertain'd.

A..J. Ponder - 




It always amazes me just where and how inspiration strikes.  This poem has been brewing dormant for the best part of a year but it wasn't until Harvey commented on Rudyard Kipling that it hurried out faster than a smuggler with the redcoats after him.