Stale Yellow

This morning my country’s on orange alert;
or maybe stale yellow, if you feel perverse:
the color of bullies, who’re cowards, in fact,
who put down in others convictions they lack.

The war is on terror, they’ll loudly proclaim;
but killing is killing, no matter the name.
Nobody learns nothing by point of a gun,
‘cept when to stay hidden, and which way to run.

Freedom’s a journey, not some point in time
when your way of living is the same as mine.
Truth is an ocean and peace is a verb;
How we each get there shows what we deserve.

This morning my country’s enmeshed in a war
financed by the rich, fought by the young and poor
who trust in their leaders and will pay the cost
regardless of who we say has won or lost.

The war is for freedom, those leaders will say;
the world is our oyster, let’s keep it that way.
But force just accelerates, it won’t evolve;
making more problems than it ever solves.

Freedom’s a journey, not some future point
when who we like has the run of the joint.
Truth is an ocean and peace is a verb;
How we each get there proves what we deserve.

This morning my country’s on orange alert;
or maybe stale yellow, which may be much worse.

22 FEB 2007

Stale Yellow (demo)

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If no one listens

If no one listens what’s the point of lying?
It takes less effort just to speak the truth;
and any action taken worth denying
will more than likely come to little use.

If no ones pays attention for the echo
that new velocity leaves in its wake,
what difference whether dios or diablo
who punishes us for such a small mistake?

If no one watches for the dawn with wonder,
what good another day just like before?
Perhaps we are indeed a cosmic blunder,
just parasites left stranded on this shore.

If no one listens, can the voice of reason
be blamed if it elects to remain mute?
When thinking independently is treason,
who will cry “Fire!” with no one left to shoot?

10 May 2005

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