Forgive me, all of you victims of this war
I turned off my radio today.
Forgive me, all of you victims in New Orleans
My radio had nothing new to say.
Forgive me, poor girl down the street who was raped
I've heard your story before.
Forgive me, tortured folks in prison camps
I just couldn't listen to anymore.
Forgive me, third party candidate they wouldn't let in the debate
I never expected your voice to be heard.
Forgive me, children being smuggled off to make shoes
No one believes your story — not one word.
Forgive me when you gays are bashed
While officers and Christians stand back.
Forgive me, those who don't have homes
While others wallow in what some lack.
Forgive me, Leonard Peltier and Mumia, after all these years
I've been crying in the streets and no one hears.
They've finally succeeded in making me too numb to feel
By hearing it so often, I thought I started to heal.
But the worst disease of all had finally consumed my soul.
I stopped listening and caring — as was their goal.
I thought the repetition trick was to make it seem true.
I heard it so many times, the news was no longer new.
So forgive me, forgive me. I'm guilty of the worst sin.
I turned off the radio and turned to the gin.
It felt good to feel warm, without any groaning.
I could sleep for a bit instead of just moaning.
So forgive me, forgive me for following their plan
To stop listening and caring when it all hits the fan.
It's morning. I'm awake and ready to shout.
I'll turn up the radio and tell all, what it's about.
The world is full of horror and it's not going to stop
Till we stand up and shout it from the rooftop.
It's wrong — It's bad — It's unacceptable to me.
I won't stop listening — The resistance has to see.
It's not enough to know what is true.
The changes to be made are up to you.
It's all about the capitalists. This we know,
Regardless of the cost, to get their dough.
We the working class must unite with each other.
Folks working together as sisters and brothers.
I won't turn of my radio or get used to horror.
Or none of us will be able to survive tomorrow.
I try to respond and not react,
And with others I've a better pact.
I try to listen more than talk,
Listening never makes me take a walk.
Love to breathe earth's fresh air,
Open outdoors make me play fair.
Yellin', screaming, hollering do no good,
Gentleness strengthens our brotherhood.
Bickering and fighting are an endless road,
Can't get anywhere when you only goad.
Goodness and giving are pure traits,
Gentleness will give you strength to stay on the straights.
So there is powerful strength in gentleness,
And in your life you will progress.
The purpose of individual freedom
Is the expression for me to experience myself.
Thoughts, words, actions, deeds
Choices with nature as a whole
Through the reflection of my soul
Exactly the way God made me!
To experience my communion with God,
What does freedom mean to me defined?
To live, to breathe, to soar as high as an eagle
As deep as a whale in the ocean,
No obligations, no conditions or circumstances.
Joy and liberty unbound.
Love fully expressed.
To run naked, jump up and down, to fall down
And sigh and look up to the heavenly blue sky
With a twinkle in my eye.
To laugh and play and roll around all day.
Heaven on earth
Freedom, my ultimate reality — God consciousness
Freedom, my true love.
Sigh.
Big Daddy has his days
Never any time to relax
An occasional nap
An occasional beer
An occasional peck on Mom's forehead
Just another occasional thank you
For all she does around the house
A few hours a day for his kids
Shooting a few hoops
Throwing a few balls
Invitation to his daughter's
Pretend tea party with her dolls
Out on the lake
Alone with his beer
And his fishing pole
Wrapped up in his thoughts
But a well-deserved time out
But I want to go fishing
But leave Big Daddy alone
Mom says he needs his time alone
With his beer
And his fishing pole
Ah, maybe fish for dinner
Mom says it stinks up the house
But Big Daddy does whatever he wants
We love our Big Daddy
He works too hard
So on his special day
I'll catch us a fish
And stink up the house
Just blame it on Big Daddy
A bloody-eyed icon shouts ideas
born in the crimson fluid leaking from
his wounded chest
Trembling on shifting sands, sore afraid,
those who want him dead scream his name
They pluck out his eyeballs as if plucking
olives from a bloody mary, salt on the rim,
skewering the orbs on lances they raise
in celebration or incantation or frustration
His ranting bought fear, super-sized
Yet his wounded body cannot cause harm,
his broken sacks of arms raise no sword
He brought no gun
He threatened no one
His outrage was not wrapped in c-4
He was but a man of ideals and ideas
and therein lay the fearsome danger
We suck the teat that is familiar
Comfortable
Well-known as warm socks
Marx said, "Give me a child until he is six,
and he is mine"
So when come the messiahs,
the teachers and preachers and sad out-reachers
One man dines on rare Japanese Kobi beef
at $197.00 for a bloody plateful
A three-year-old picks bugs up off the floor
One woman pays to have nature rearranged,
one woman dies of breast cancer because
there was no insurance for a mammogram
And everyone calls it American Enterprise
Those whose lips form other words…
shunned, at the very least
Socialist bitch, she called after me
Because I believe everyone should have the
same rights — that no one should be
denied equal education and medication
and mellifluous fornication
The sins that are set forth on my
tablets are not Thou Shall
Thou shall NOT let an old one die
untended and alone
Thou shall NOT withhold a hospital bed
Available to all, not charity ward,
but tight in there with those who have
Thou shall NOT keep medication from anyone
Available to all
Thou shall NOT base this
on money or social standing
Thou shall distribute food equal in
quality and quantity without charge
All have the right to share
All may come to the table
Thou shall awaken to the
useless values that bring war
Thou shall educate each
to the equality and worth of all
Thou shall worship not at
the Mastercard chancel
nor the Visa tabernacle,
but work mightily to ensure no
one is hungry, sick or in need
If these covenants you keep,
war and hatred will creep away
Such lonely nights
Backed into a corner
These hands are going out to you
My way is always the harder
Your hands are all the help I need
Set in my ways
This road is getting darker
My eyes struggle to see yours
No way to get where I am going
How long before I reach this end
But it's mercy and the strength of a brother
That I'll rely upon and learn how to trust
And given all this hope
Through all these times of grief and sorrow
I know I'm not alone
Sometimes I think I'll just dig myself
D
O
W
N
Right into a hole
Curl up in a ball
F O R T H E D U R A T I O N
But I'm way too old, now, to
Pretend not to know
That as long as you
Don't up and DIE
Really
Quick
(After digging)
Well, you'll just have to scale one
Really
Tall
W
A
I
L
I
N
G
W
A
L
L
As you're hoisting that
Bloody, bruised body…………Back Up and Out
Like a fireman
Only now, guaranteed,
You'll be
All by yourself, I mean
FLAT ON YOUR LONESOME
AND, REALLY, FRIEND
THAT'S WHAT YOU CALL A
SLOW TRIP THROUGH HELL IN A
HOME-FASHIONED, GRAY HAND BASKET