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I did not want my people killed. I did not want bloodshed.

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C) Julius Caesar

Enter CASCA and CICERO

CASCA: Tomorrow in the senate we shall have to work. Caesar will be sitting.
CICERO: An orator does not go out of fashion, I shall deliver a speech.
CASCA: To be a conspirator has become fashionable.
CICERO: Our roles are not so definite, we use to ignore them.
CASCA: You yourself mention ignorance! Were not you Princeps Senatus?
CICERO: Though he put the crown by thrice, the dictator wants to be top of Rome.
CASCA: He is really top of Rome. Senators are useless.
CICERO: Antony is his shadow and wants put himself in his place. However I am looking all
around.
CASCA: I am one of your accomplices and wonder whether you are seeing anything interesting.
CICERO: I don't like Marullus. Let's get the tribun of the people killed.
CASCA: Do you want to kill a son, too? We already must kill a father.
CICERO: Maybe I don't like killing fathers.

II,1
Enter MARCUS BRUTUS and PORTIA

BRUTUS: As sentinel greets the dawn, so I greet your return. You are late.
PORTIA: Sure, I was very busy at the market-place. Sometimes woman carries a heavy load.
BRUTUS: We must save Rome. People must honour its laws.
PORTIA: I always honoured those laws.
BRUTUS: For this reason I got married with you and did not want another in your place.
PORTIA: My place is close to our native Lares.
BRUTUS: Tradition is on our side. Our homework is the usual one.
PORTIA: No homework but this: one can not re-wind the spindle of time.

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A Round Table

He was told killing people was a wrong
thing to do
He got angry one day and killed
someone
The people killed him to teach him a
lesson
That killing people was a terrible thing to
do.
She loved a man with all her heart
He was married to a woman after his
heart
She stole his heart and broke her heart
Years had walked, she owned his heart
He met a girl whom he loved and gave
his heart
She sobbed & wondered why people
took what belonged to another.
I know I did wrong, but hey I'm human
Flesh and blood, bad as they come
Lord forgive me, and ignite thy amnesia
She cheated on me with my best friend
Yeah, I'll forgive someday but will never
forget.
He searched for joy but never found it
He found the bottom of every bottle
And the thrill in the fusion of his fist and
face of his wife
The son crying, watches, never wants to
be dad-like
The man is formed with a tempering
temper
She nags at him, he becomes his dad.
The president's dumb, who put him
there?
Just give me a chance, I'll realign the
stars
They all are thieves who lead us blind
A shooting star grants you your wish
'Good morning Mr. President', they
greeted, you grinned
Barely a year, your hair is gray and your
body frayed
The mouths that cheered, the same that
jeer.
I don't have anything, no not a thing
Just my health, my family, my friends,
my life
Life you've not been fair
I want a car, a house, a babe, or babes
I want money, fame, respect, the all of it
Sell my car, my house, the cancer's
thriving
For the first time in all my life
I finally noticed the beauty of a budding
rose and the setting sun.
The past behind it troubles me
The future unseen it worries me
The present I have I open not
The future is here and all of a sudden
The moments of those presents unravel
before my mind
How happy I was and didn't know it
How good I had it but was staring into
the future for better
The future is present and I open it not
Stuck in that present which now is past
Looking for the future that is coming
And in the end, never ever living.

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At The Un-National Monument Along The Canadian Border

This is the field where the battle did not happen,
where the unknown soldier did not die.
This is the field where grass joined hands,
where no monument stands,
and the only heroic thing is the sky.

Birds fly here without any sound,
unfolding their wings across the open.
No people killed – or were killed – on this ground
hallowed by neglect and an air so tame
that people celebrate it by forgetting its name.

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Race:

Tell me who chose his race
Who has designed his face,
Before he was born?
Is it you?
Show me your race request!
Explain to me your color pallet
Why are you putting race first?

Did your ancestry choose
Their skin color?
Did color even matter?
Who gives you the right,
To discriminate against others?

Telling me we are "not equal"
Putting yourself against the bible
Get out of this circle
Get out of this bubble
This action is reversible.

So much taste of pain
Too much mark of chain
Not to remember, not to maintain
The spirit and the complain
To the next generation, you explain!

As it takes love
To love someone else
It takes more than love
To love who hated you
You have to embrace
A total different race
If you are a racist
You need God's grace
If you are a sexist
You are out of trace.

Little Richard created Rock n Roll
Who is control it?
British created Soccer
Who is best at it?
People lynched people
Over race
People burned people
Over sect
People killed people
Over religion
If you discriminate
You have lost the race
Under the skin we are one
Black, White, Spanish
Asian, Indian just name
Human being is universal
Living in peace is principal
With every race is just moral.

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Repression of War Experience

Now light the candles; one; two; there’s a moth;
What silly beggars they are to blunder in
And scorch their wings with glory, liquid flame—
No, no, not that,—it’s bad to think of war,
When thoughts you’ve gagged all day come back to scare you;
And it’s been proved that soldiers don’t go mad
Unless they lose control of ugly thoughts
That drive them out to jabber among the trees.

Now light your pipe; look, what a steady hand.
Draw a deep breath; stop thinking; count fifteen,
And you’re as right as rain...
Why won’t it rain?...
I wish there’d be a thunder-storm to-night,
With bucketsful of water to sluice the dark,
And make the roses hang their dripping heads.
Books; what a jolly company they are,
Standing so quiet and patient on their shelves,
Dressed in dim brown, and black, and white, and green,
And every kind of colour. Which will you read?
Come on; O do read something; they’re so wise.
I tell you all the wisdom of the world
Is waiting for you on those shelves; and yet
You sit and gnaw your nails, and let your pipe out,
And listen to the silence: on the ceiling
There’s one big, dizzy moth that bumps and flutters;
And in the breathless air outside the house
The garden waits for something that delays.
There must be crowds of ghosts among the trees,—
Not people killed in battle,—they’re in France,—
But horrible shapes in shrouds—old men who died
Slow, natural deaths,—old men with ugly souls,
Who wore their bodies out with nasty sins.

. . . .
You’re quiet and peaceful, summering safe at home;
You’d never think there was a bloody war on!...
O yes, you would ... why, you can hear the guns.
Hark! Thud, thud, thud,—quite soft ... they never cease—
Those whispering guns—O Christ, I want to go out
And screech at them to stop—I’m going crazy;
I’m going stark, staring mad because of the guns.

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Withholding information that would get innocent people killed was the right thing to do, not a journalistic sin.

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If we have another 2,000 people killed, I want Nancy Pelosi and George Soros, John Conyers and Pat Leahy to go to the funeral and say, 'Your son was vaporized because we didn't want to dump some guy's head under water for 30 seconds.'

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The Man Died

The man died and died and died
And finally the man died!
People killed the man severally
Before the man finally died
The mans family labelled
The man dead.
The community labelled
The man dead
.
And above all the man saw in Himself a living ghost
And had since decayed and rotted inside
That not even the warmt
Of a living blood
Could've been enough
To bring the man back
To life again.

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The Truth About War

all wars are wrong!
war is killing masked in ideals.
most of the people killed
in wars are not soldiers,
- often women and children.

we dont have the right to invade,
to conquer, or to mold other countries.
we dont own them!
we dont even own the earth
we're living on.

killing is wrong.
all of life is sacred.
we dont have the right
to take another's life.
we dont have the right
to play God...
we're not even very good
at being human.

fear, insecurity, greed...
no matter what the propaganda,
it's all lies!
the act of war is
the act of murder....

democracy doesnt take by force...
it allows human choice to prevail.
war is the machine of the soulless,
peace is a conscious decision!

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If only magic was real.

If only magic was real.
But only for nice wee people.
If evil people had magic,
All chaos would break loose.

The punks would finally get their way,
And there would be all out anarchy.
Evil people could kill nice wee people,
With a flick of the wrist and a ceremonial word,
Assuming that’s how magic would work if it was real.

Alas, we return to the punks,
Their philosophy is non-conforming,
So then the punks would become nice wee people,
And wear nice wee clothes,
And live in houses with white picket fences,
Unless the evil people killed them for being nice wee people.

I wish I had magic.
I would make the world a better place.
Unless everyone had magic,
And everyone would kill everyone else.
I guess there’s a reason we don’t have magic,
We’d just wreck it like everything else we humans do.
We’ve ruined our rainforests,
Our arctic
And our morals.

I guess we don’t have magic,
Because if we did,
We’d just wreck it,
Cause man has a habit of wrecking things.

21: 08 28/03/2006

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The court of gentlemen

Some people had forgotten their dreams
Buried it into oblivion deep within
Some people killed their lives
Keep it silence let their wisdom fly
Some people live life’s a destiny
Build name and ride in fame
with obscurity in them’
Some people let go of their spirit of vitality
And chose to live life of’ miserably;

How many of these people cannot find
The reason of loving without leaving
their self-dying
And what else they can do
so much for cry and end up to sigh,
How many of these people who watch the sky
but cannot find nor see the heavens
And what else they can pray
knee after knee on plea but only to die,
How many of these people live justly
but cannot find life’s beauty only cruelty
And what else they can hope for
after the long day of labor for prosperity

Some people will ask the same question
But cannot find the same answer
Some people will not bother for this inquiry
But cannot put aside the pain of reality
Some people may find time and reflect ‘bout it
But still cannot grasp what life has to say


(Ormoc City, Phil.2003)

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The ugly human face

Wailing with tears and
Helplessly in commotion,
All of you’re telling to write
The history of hatred, enmity, killings,
The history of human ugly face.

My pen is dried up,
Tell me in which medium,
And language should I write.
Where to begin and
Where to end
Such history of human ugly face.

Oh! Betrayer
You’re telling me to wipe out from the history
Of such human ugly face,
That shattered and shook human conscience,
That haunts the face of those innocent people,
Killed and hurt; widows and orphans.
That hums: that reminds.

Telling me just to close my eyes.
But I’m not blind.
Telling me not to speak,
But I’m not dumb.
Telling me not to write the truth,
But I cannot write anything but the truth.
How can I deceive the history where I belong?

Human memory is short,
Tears would dry up,
The blood would be washed away with time
But the silent words, written in the heart of each human ugly face
Imbedded forever and immortal.

Let me dip the pen in the smeared blood,
The blood of all religions, caste, creed and colour, poor and rich,
The thick blood of those innocent persons.

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The Storm

A big storm is hitting the eastern seaboard of North America,
it has just hit Cuba and other little island; fifty people killed,
but we didn´t get an intensive coverage as we get now.
By all means it is an immense storm and no doubt America feels
it doesn´t deserve this and there is no one to drones to attack
for this onslaught on Americas’ soil. Yes, we can build walls we
can built fortresses in the hope of being safe from the world,
but in the eye of a storm by nature or a storm caused by lack of
justice and freedom, the storm will be equally furious those
storms will, if we are lucky, clean our corrupt social system,
we call democracy- a practice that gives the right of the rich to
exploit the poor and obscenely try to make the neediest enjoy
slavery of being consumers, where going to the mall is highlight
of the week… Meanwhile the storm blows and if two tramps would
be killed or two seamen drown, every TV channel in the world will
record their demise and there will be a charity in their name;
“we shall not forget their suffering.” But as water retreats and
hamburger joints opens- The past, in our world, has no memory,
it is about mustard or ketchup; and it is quite easy really,
the red little bag is tomato ketchup and the yellow bag is mustard.

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The Leeches

Have you seen the leeches of society?
Have you seen them crawling like snakes?
Sucking off the life of everyone
Have you seen them with their lawyers?
Working the law so the rich get richer
Talking of freedom and rights
Have you seen them working global markets?
Polluting the rivers and the lands
Using genetic engineering for more gain
Owning sold out scientist
Buying PHD’S and technology
Owning the means of production
Owning and buying the media
Owning the courts
Pouring money into every election
Masters of propaganda
Creating wars for their interests
Using the whole world as a game
They love power and control
Indigenous people killed, in cages
In reservations
The roll of progress
Imperialism, manifest destiny
People of color trampled
Have you seen their Atlas Shrugged grins

Blessed are you who are poor yours is the kingdom
The trampled on migrant worker
The poor lonely immigrant who is distained
The worker in a slave shop
The worker without a pension
The women who can’t afford a papmere test
The cancers
The hungry children
The alcoholic families full of shame
The laid off and unemployed
Those that work 12-hour days without healthcare
Looking at his disciples, he said
Blessed are those who are persecuted because of
Righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven
Blessed are you who hunger now, for you will be satisfied

The hour is late
The leeches are very wicked
They come with the power of modern technology
They want your mind
They want your vote
Resist them until they are judged
For they will throw their gold into the streets
Your task master puppets shall fall
Your national guards who enslave shall fall
Your greed and avarice shall crumble
His heel was bruised but your head is crushed

The Leeches live in gated communities
They suck the life out of the working class
They buy lobbyist to support their oppression
They ship jobs overseas for more profit
Chickens bloated with hormones
Their legs broken from too quick of growth
Cattle tortured for quick meat
Animals should graze
Pigs are smarter than dogs
Cruelty beyond comprehension
All for money and more money
Rivers polluted
Lakes with mercury
Industry and watersheds ruined

They try to bust unions
They hate and fear organized labor
They despise the poor
They think they are so special and smart
They are elitist
They live off the hard work of others
They hate fair wages
They hate benefits
They support sweatshop labor
They use religion to win support
They hate fair distribution of power and wealth
They fear your vote
They blame the victim
They send their offspring to the best of schools
They will fight low college tuitions for average people
They love to own politicians
They work against healthcare
They love tax shelters
They want their interests protected
See them fly around in their jets
They call the poor leeches
They laugh at the people in the unemployed lines
They think they are self-made men
They are the dregs and leeches of the blood of the world
See them create so much pain and sorrow

Behold, the wages of the laborers who mowed your fields,
Which you kept back by fraud, are crying out against you,
And the cries of the harvesters
Have reached the ears of the Lord of hosts.

Woe unto the Leeches

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In 1945, there were more people killed, more buildings destroyed, more high explosives set off, more fires burning than before or since.

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Big Slick

Just after BO ok’s more drilling
Gulf rocked by large explosion
People killed, fires, toxic gasses
Proves fossil fuel abomination

(Quit suppressing alternative energy technologies)

ROTMS

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Names & Numbers Games

A man who kills five people
is called a psychopath, a serial killer

A man who kills ten people and himself
is called a terrorist

A man who has a hundred people killed
is called an entrepreneur

A man who has a thousand people killed
is called a politician

A man who has ten thousand people killed
is called a Minister of Justice

A man who kills a hundred thousand animals
is just doing his job

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Guns are near!

Guns are here, guns are there
Guns are the future
The one, which is near
Firearms
People killed
Hero’s shot
Hero’s healed
Honours given to those who died
Those who saved
Who sacrificed
Loading guns
Aiming fire
Preparing to shoot
The vital other
Never knowing the enemy
Never getting attached
To a single human
In several countries
Or Iraq
Knowing that life
Is a gift to them
Knowing that life is short
I’m sure many a people would say
Go on
What harm can it do?
Give life a shot! ! !

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Transocean Shame Bonus For Executives

Transocean sham honours pays top grease executives
bonuses for their best year in management efficiency.
Bonuses paid in blood money bean counting penny
pinching sly stealing protective safety standards sold.

Transocean Ltd. gave all top executives bonuses
(a big slap in the face for conservation ocean protection)
(a royal one finger salute for marine wildlife slaughtered)
for achieving the best year in safety performances

to celebrate an explosion on its oil rig that eleven people killed
to celebrate 200 million gallons of oil spilled into earth ocean
200 million gallons crime oil into mother Gulf of Mexico spilled
this is world’s largest off-shore oil rig company concept safety
this is management Deep Water Horizon snake poison vision
quote 'best year in safety performance in our company's history'


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Ghost Of JFK

the ghost of JFK
walked through my dreams....
and i could see and feel

the heartbeat of America
before the disease took us....
the voice of freedom and moral

conviction.... taking issues,
examining our own souls...
repenting of past prejudices,

searching for a way
for peace and freedom.....
but the shots rang out,

the hope of a generation murdered...
the Pentagon rolled, defense contracts,
smoke filled rooms....

J Edgar Hoover's lists...
the battle for civil rights;
and the young rebelled

against the lie in Vietnam....
against the lie, against the lie...
the search for freedom turned inward....

and the National Guard became the thugs
of the new regime.....
more people killed, more voices stilled....

Robert Kennedy, Martin Luther King,
among them.....
that which we fought for now gone....

bought out by the corporate lie.....
and now the battle begins again...
now the voices, new voices,

spring up again....
and i stand amid the ghosts,
waiting on the shots to ring out!

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