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Journalists are pleasant people who ask unpleasant questions.

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Where are the people , Who lived for others

Where are the people

Who lived for others

Cried for them

Laughed with them

Thought

More for others

Less for self

Suffered in pain

Never complained

Encouraged others

Lived for them

Died unknown

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Many Are The People

I see a tree.
But knowing what it goes through,
On a daily basis to be a tree...
I can't say I know.
Therefore,
A knowing about it...
I can not prove or show.

I see squirrels, birds, cats and dogs,
On a daily basis...
To be what is perceived are animals.
Are they more or less intelligent than you,
Or me?
I can not claim to know this.
None have I met to chat with personally.

And that applies to people.
Many are the people with different ethnicities.
Many are their languages spoken,
And only fluent am I in one of these.
With a labelling by races and religious philosophies.
But can I claim to know them?
Not really. That would be too presumptuous of me.

But there are those who claim to know,
What is unseen.
They claim to know what others do,
Without having them on the scene.
Walk down any street anywhere and hear folks say,
Something about someone else to belittle and demean.
And not know one thing about them but they do it anyway.

Many are the people who would have others believe,
They know everything about someone else...
Including their history.
And these very same people are the reason why,
There is confusion and chaos in other people's lives...
From an ignorance known that shows.
And that fact should be prioritized as an agenda to realize.

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Are persons people?

and he says
you don’t write poetry to please people, you know
that’s with a comma after people
you write poems to please you
with shock lines like I still treasure
our first condom oh my love
to show that you’re cool and hip

but she says why write poems at all
if they don’t please people
men have such egos I suppose
it’s because they can’t have babies

but who are people anyway, how
many persons make a people or
how few persons and are they
a random mix or is there like
a recipe, some of this lot some of that

he says people who know about these things
like poetry but how do you know
which are the people who know
I’m not sure I know he knows for a start

and she says well ordinary people
so what then do you slide up
to a bus queue when there’s no
bus in sight and say look you’re
ordinary people I’ve been looking for you
yeah watch them give you a nasty look
and skedaddle pretending they remembered
they were due some place else

I’m beginning to wonder if people really exist
I mean as such but I’ll have to stop there
my PC says it’s run out of virtual memory
that’s another thing I don’t understand
maybe people are just a virtual memory too
I’m beginning to wonder if anyone knows
what *people* should think about poetry
maybe they should just write it throw it away
see who picks it up and not never nohow talk about
other *people’s* poetry

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Who are these people?

Who are these people? where are they streaming? Glass eyes tight shut as though they were dreaming?

Garrotted, throats slit as a token of sacrifice to the eternel god's,
Bodies cast down to the depth's of brooding pete bogs.

'Did you surrender yourself, your will to the ritual, Or be this simply a punishment for a crime, we shall never know.'

Sword's split skull's, not hard enough to kill
Just to lull, least drag their victims senses into the void.
Calling on the Goddess of spring through to autumn, of summer's sun and winter rain
Only your head, throne of the soul survives the passage of time to breathe again.

'From where did you come? ' ask's the child to his mother
'From my mother, her mother before her'
'So where does my father fit into this, what seem's such simple a matter? '
'He work's his hand's to the bone, then come's home late, wait's at the table just to get fatter.
That's what he does, he seems happy enough, he has no illusions to shatter'
'What off my father, from wence doth he stem, from his father and father before? '
'Nay, It goes way further than that, to back when, our only mother was the mother of yore
Mother of earth, blessed mother of pearl, reveal to us the wisdom's with which you blanket the world.

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Who We Are

Sometimes we give a measure of who we are
to people who are strangers.
We give them friendship,
our courage to carry on
and our respect for who they are.
We never ask for anything in return,
we do it because that is who we are.
We hold up no flags or banners
to announce our presence
because that is who we are and always will be.


19 January 2010

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People Who Are Set In Their Ways

It is too late,
To re-program a people taught
They are entitled,
To disrespect without giving it a thought.
Or,
Show a remorse of any kind.

People who are set in their ways,
And in this state of mind
Prey to leech.
And are not the kind,
To admit their wrongs.
Since there are none they can find.

People set in their ways,
And in this state of mind
Will not be the ones confined,
Spending their time
Delivering to the neighborhood children,
Freshly baked homemade cookies.

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Be With People Who Are In Love

be with people who are in love
with life
for they can help you
become so alive

their breaths are warm
and they all rise
to the heavens
unlike them
those indifferent and loveless ones
their breaths
are like chunks of dirt
and they crumple
and stain the earth

learn the art of loving
more people
and learn to fly
so when you are falling in love
you do not crush yourself
cracking to the
rocks of the earth

leaves die. But the real tree
knows how to grow back
its roots.
and then the buds start
to show.

flowers bloom, that is next.

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People Who Believe They Are Indispensible

People who believe they are indispensible...
Are the ones ready to kill.
Believing the experience of life,
Is theirs to give and take at will.

Like a cancer that spreads,
Without a cure...
People like these,
Have missions of evil to fulfill.

People who believe this world is theirs...
Destroy and destruct,
Without a consciousness known...
Or Shown they care.

They assume they have rights,
To tell others what to do...
Day and night.

And when they discover they are wrong...
They can not live with themselves.
Staying awake to make decisions,
Others are the ones that do not belong!

So they make excuses...
To murder!

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People Who are Ignorant

People who are ignorant,
Have invested valuable time...
And money spent.
To prove their foolishness and ways,
Makes a difference.
Although these folks within their minds,
Have an absence of common sense.
And, are noticeably self destructive and crazed.

People who are ignorant,
Spend every dime spent...
Revealing their incompetence.
And taking direction from those who are right,
Is something they've never done.
Since deceit and decadence has been their main appetite.

People who are ignorant,
Believe an ability to thieve makes them great.
They believe their disasters started,
Shows their expertise and them being able to create.
But people who are ignorant,
Like these folks show they are and can be?
May seek an empathy from others for their stupidity.
But sincerity shown these empty headed 'entities'...
Is a waste of time.
Unless one wishes a suffering done endlessly.

However...
People who are ignorant,
Have been convinced their way of life...
Is one pursued by those who are jealous.
And are threaten because they are envied!
And standards they value,
Reflects upon them in a 'special' light.

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We Are The People

Puppets in the dance are we
Or do we call the tune
Were keeping up our ratings
While we feed you wreck and ruin
Thespians of revolution, money in the bank
With our college boy lisps
Brown ale gurus sunday supplement priests
Lunch with urban guerillas
On expense account receipts
Opinionated interviews
From an informed source
Cant tell you no names
Secret of course
We are the people
I am you, you are me
We are the people, I am you, you are me
Any fool can see all the people
We are the people
Were on the side of politicians
Misquote their lies
Building up those favors
We collect on bye and bye
On the side of winners
We can change with the fees
Give us your proposition
Were only here to please
We are the people
I am you, you are me
We are the people
I am you, you are me
Any fool can see all the people
We are the people
Oh, please defend me
Dont ask for my surrender
We are the kings, youre the pretenders
You walk and Ill talk
Stop ringing my doorbell with questions
Subscribe--view us--listen to us
Weve got the plan
Weve got all the answers
And weve got your man
We can change the format
If the sales go down
And we got girls for everyone
Yellow, pink or brown
We are the people..............chorus to fade
(mccafferty/agnew)
(copyright 1980 ciroride/strickrope ltd.)

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People Who Are Lonely

Lonely people

Who want to become un-lonely

Have to face the decision:

Do they want

To hold on

To their own ideas?


Or

Do they want

To entertain

Ideas

Different from their own?

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People Who Protect Themselves

People who protect themselves,
At someone else's expense...
I have no respect for.
And neither will you find me accepting.
Or coming to their defense.

I care less about their motivations,
And what their intentions are.
If someone abuses another like that...
In my mind they are the ones,
That should be reprimanded and scarred.

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People Who Use Love

Love and deceit,
Can not meet to greet...
Happily under one roof.

There may have been some,
Who have tried to do this.
But loyalty and devotion...
Is not a commodity to dilute.

People who use love,
As if they are exchanging...
A pair of tight fitting shoes,
Are also the ones who say they pray...
And afraid to tell the truth!

Love and deceit,
Can not meet to greet...
Happily under one roof.
And those who do it,
Are in constant conflict...
With those who refuse...
To put up with their,
Alibis and mood shifts!

To have an acceptance,
From those to approve...
As if it's okay to choose confusion too!

As if they can get away...
With whatever they do!

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How Powerful Are They...

Can an appointed judge dismiss an elected mayor?
Is this democracy when the elites are such a powerful players?
Are we allowed to ask these questions or even think about this?
Is there something wrong here, that Mayor Ford can be dismissed?

Appointees and aristocrats always think that they are right,
We have Trudeau's Charter and have been told that we are quite bright,
Though we don't have referendums or set-date elections,
And we never change Trudeau's Charter or make corrections.

The elites know who they are, where they are and who you are,
So their unquestionable conduct may seem quite bizarre,
There's nothing you can do so you better bow your head,
We're lucky we're in Toronto, Canada or they might behead.

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Leave People Who Live Life Alone

Some may say I don't 'NEED'
But that I 'WANT'!
But I know what I need...
And it's you that I want.
If I say it's you that is on my mind?
I know what I'm wanting and needing,
From time to time!

Folks don't have enough to do on their own.
Why can't they leave people who live life alone?
Maybe they are the ones many try to avoid?
But that isn't complete because they are everywhere,
To annoy!
And opinions? Do they have them! Some by the case!
Sometimes whispering...
Sometimes loudly,
But it is done right in your face!
That's the disgrace...
When this is done in a public place!

Some may say I don't 'NEED'
But that I 'WANT'!
But I know what I need...
And it is you that I want!
And I'm not wanting or needing,
Us right now...
To be around them! !
Let's go!

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People Who Have Prioritized Them As Waste

It is easy to make fun,
Of the odd one out.
Isn't it?
Especially in an environment,
That seems not only to condone it...
But solicits a provoking of this behavior.
It is a condition that is taught...
And learned very well.

Then it is wished a unity is done.
But those that have become alcohol abusers,
And drug addicts...
Social misfits and psychopaths,
Appear to have other agendas.
And to express a vacancy of love,
Is not one of them.

And the people who have prioritized them as waste...
Can be observed, examined and witnessed,
As being the real victims!
They are the vagrants adorning false masks.
Since they've invested their time...
Ensuring their own kind were driven out of their minds.

And they wander about,
Making sure this task is successfully done.
Or they 'hang' in there...
Despairingly.

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We Are A People Of Peace

Sir?
There is an elderly woman,
Carrying what appears to be roses...
On the battlefield.

'That's preposterous.'

No sir?
It is not a rhinoceros.

'I said preposterous.
Like a hippopotamus.'

Sir...
What we see is not anonymous.
We all see it is a woman.
What shall we do with the roses?
Sir?

Sir?

'I'm not getting paid enough.'

Sir?
Will you make a decision.
That's all we ask.

'I would love to tell you where to put them? '

We are closing in on a nearby town.
We could ask if the woman would like us,
To locate a vase?
This will prove to everyone,
We are a people of peace.

'What is going on?
WHAT IS GOING ON?
Has EVERYONE gone mad? '

No sir.
We all are very calm.
It is a little hot.
You are the only one shouting.
Maybe the heat is beginning to affect you?
Perhaps you've been on too many missions of peace?

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The People Who Love Nature

Not seen as great or special or the leaders of our time
But to the people who love Nature i dedicate this rhyme
They dedicate their free time for the future of human kind
And in the person who loves Nature a great person you will find.

The person who loves Nature be it he or be it she
Is someone who is a good friend of all of humanity
For we belong to Nature though some may not agree
Like every other life form that's how 'twould seem to me.

The people who try to save the woodland from the bulldozer and chainsaw
And whilst in trying to save the trees they break a man made law
Are the real heroes and heroines and the unsung of our day
Though there are many out there who do not see it that way.

No special day to honour them and for them never a parade
And for the dead who did love Nature the last post is never played
They live to save the Planet and anonymity is their gain
But the people who love Nature as my heroes and my heroines do remain.


--------------------

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When hearts are near, people whisper!

Smile at me, when I return from work
Don't smell at me and turn in sulk
I may build the wall out of brick,
I may fix the pipe as a trick,
I may drive the multi ton trucks,
I may plough the field in bare feet,
I may walk around to sell the knick knacks,
I may go into the drain to remove the clogs,
I may wear the protective suit in oil rigs,
I may wear the gloves to wash the dirt,
When I return home, please smile at me,
For I do this work for the children and you.
Look at me as the flowers in your garden,
Look at me as you look at our children,
Look at me as a human, who is in need,
Yes, I need you and your love,
Don't scare me with your shouting,
We are very near and our hearts are very dear,
I am simply very tired and know your fear,
Wipe away your suspicious tear,
Smile at me dear, I can hear your whisper,
Don't treat me as a stranger,
When the hearts are near, people whisper,
When the hearts are afar, people shout.
Smile at me, when I return from work.

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Fathers are wonderful people

Fathers are wonderful people
Too little understood,
And we do not sing their praises
As often as we should.
For somehow, Father seems to be
The man who pays the bills,
While Mother binds up little hurts
And nurses all our ills.

And Father struggles daily
To live up to 'his image, '
As protector and provider
And 'hero of the scrimmage.'

And perhaps that is the reason
We sometimes get the notion,
That Fathers are not subject
To the thing we call emotion.

But if you look inside Dad's heart,
Where no one else can see...
You'll find he's sentimental
And as 'soft' as he can be.

But he's so busy every day
In the grueling race of life,
He leaves the sentimental stuff
To his partner and his wife.

But Fathers are just 'wonderful'
In a million different ways,
And they merit loving compliments
And accolade of praise.

For the only reason Dad aspires
To fortune and success
Is to make the family proud of him,
And to bring them happiness.

And like our Heavenly Father,
He's a guardian and a guide,
Someone that we can count on
To be always on our side.

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