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Kierkegaard

Anxiety is the dizziness of freedom.

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On The Road To Freedom

It must be a winding road
On the road to freedom
Freedom not to hurt other people
Freedom with kind words to share
Not to look down, but to lift us up higher
It is not too late..give it a try..

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The Lamp of Freedom

Once married, the sons go to new nests
and their parents are unwanted guests.
People of a cult live
in nations different to give
their best; then why the ravaged Eelamites
put off the lamp of freedom in their chests? .

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If (The Cost Of Freedom...)

if the cost of freedom
...is my body,

then
..may
....my
......spirit.........fly
...........away!

if the cost of freedom
....is my identity,

then
...may
.....you
......see........yourself
...........in
.......... ....me!

if the cost of freedom
....is my time,

then
...forever
.....is
.......m y
.........gift!

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The Torch of Freedom

we light the torch of freedom
when we put a name
to every face
a hand in every hand,
a cup and a bowl
before every hungry soul

we light the torch of freedom
when we restore dignity
in our every action
when we take responsibility
for every thought,
every word,
every deed.

we light the torch of freedom
when we give more than
we can afford to.
give unconditionally,
give without remorse!
we light the torch of freedom

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The Cost Of Freedom

He died serving our country,
in a land far away.
He gave his life for freedom.
They buried him today.

He loved family more than life,
and had to do what's right.
To protect them and his country,
he joined in the fight.

Next time you see a soldier,
don't just pass him by.
Thank him for his service.
81415He might be next to die.

How great the cost of freedom.
How brave those who defend.
Protect them Lord, that they may
safely come back home again.

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Lost In The City of Freedom

Lost in the City of Freedom
I am as small as a thumb
My FAITH is as meager
as my pointer finger
But LOVE is great
And my middle finger is that great lover
Ring finger is the HOPE which
competes with love
Pinky finger of what I know is
Art, music and literature
is what I only have.
And sometimes it burdens me as a thumb

Each finger crawls its steps in the blinding sunlight
Dreams are all that is floating in my palm
The hand is lost in the City of Freedom
Though it just feels good and right
to be lost
in the City of Freedom.

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The Effects Of Freedom And Entitlements

There were times when those oppressed,
Use to beg and request their freedom.
With a wish to have their interests accepted,
And intergrated.

Well...
All requests today are now subjected to scrutiny.
With the effects of freedom and entitlements given,
Proven not to be beneficial to anyone's progress.

The obviousness of disrespect and the crumbling of values,
Can no longer go undetected to protect those living with regrets.
Unless they are one of 'those' with a nose too high up in the air,
To avoid a stench they from the trenches helped create.

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The Cost of Freedom

Syria...
violence in the streets...
peaceful protesters
marching for human rights,
equality, and change
being slaughtered
by their own government...

now here...
shadows of Kent State...
common people
pushed to the edge
in the battle for
survival, human dignity,
and hope for a future...

already abandoned
by our own government...

will it take being
killed to get their attention?
will it take dying
to give our children
a chance?

you say it cant happen here!
open your eyes, your ears,
your hearts...
it's already begun!

what is the cost of freedom?

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Find The Cost Of Freedom

Daylight again, following me to bed
I think about a hundred years ago, how my fathers bled
I think I see a valley, covered with bones in blue
All the brave soldiers that cannot get older been askin' after
you
Hear the past a callin', from Ar- -megeddon's side
When everyone's talkin' and noone is listenin', how can we
decide?
(Do we) find the cost of freedom, buried in the ground
Mother earth will swallow you, lay your body down
Find the cost of freedom, buried in the ground
Mother earth will swallow you, lay your body down
(Find the cost of freedom buried in the ground)

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Experiencing The Meaning Of Freedom

To be scrutinized over periods of time,
Eventually brings to one a liberty...
To choose to do what they please.
Knowing in the doing of it...
Someone's going to mention,
What is being done!

The how. The when. The where. And the 'who'.
Questioning the 'why' to create their own answers.
To make anyone listening come to wonder,
What their own lives would be like...
Experiencing the meaning of freedom?

And what gives others the right to waste their time,
Making attempts...
To evaluate those minding their own business.
Something many living today find most difficult to do!

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The Scent Of Freedom....

i caught the scent of freedom,
in a simple gust of wind.
could taste both feathers and wings,
in the glint of the faraway sky.
could feel the bridge beneath my feet,
swaying with every step.
and i pledged my heart and mind
to walk and talk as one...
and facing my fears,
determined refused to stop.
for in each life there lies a reason,
in each night a lantern shines.
and oh nothing be so sweet,
as to be the hand that holds the light!
then to turn and find you're not alone,
with shouts and hands raised high.
both brothers and sisters join in,
and pledge the heart that wont be caged!

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Occupy, The Body Of Freedom

'no more Kent States,
...no more Kent States...'

President Obama,
dont turn a deaf ear!
dont sell out to the machine.....
dont betray us like Nixon did!

silence is betrayel!
inaction is betrayel!

you cannot turn your head,
and hope we go away!
this isnt about helping you
get re-elected!

it's about the truth!
corporate America wont stand for it.
Wall street wont take it!

how many will be beaten?
how many pepper sprayed?
the fear you seek to instill
only validates freedom's song!

you cant sell us the lie anymore!
we're not buying it!

Occupy.....
occupy the body
.....of freedom!

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In The Name Of Freedom...

we give a young man a gun,
and tell him to go kill in
the name of freedom...
we assure him that God is
on his side.
and he goes and kills and
commits atrocious acts of
violence...
and the defense contracts
grow, we secure more oil...
the war machine feeds itself!

this young man comes home to no job,
no real future, limited benefits,
and pretty much no help.
and he has to try to sleep at
night, hearing the cries and
the screams of the dying, of
women and children...

freedom? bullshit!
a license to kill?
who is the murderer here?
the young man put on the altar?
or the faceless ones who sent him?

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Welcome To The Door Of Freedom

this is the door of freedom
you just got in
i have a room beyond this room
no one has entered yet
between this door and my room
is a space
this is where some pieces of my are left
but soon they will be taken back
to be kept inside my palms
to be hidden once again from you

when you get in
you will be introduced to the ritual of knowing
what you do not know
what you cannot know
what shall be hidden forever from you
and you shall be a little bit
disappointed

but you must insist
you have to repeat your name many times
you will sort out the letters
there are onions and chilies
they will make you cry

and then you will wish upon another door
this time it is your door
towards your own room
you will doubt about breathing
about windows and exits
and then you begin to ask
if all these are worth it

you decide.

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The Bells Of Freedom

do the bells of freedom ring
every time someone dies of starvation?
every time a child is abused,
every time a woman's left alone
to raise the kids...

every time a young boy hangs himself,
every time an addict steals his fix...
every time a boy is shot dead in the street,
every time a mother weeps....

every time a boy goes off to war,
comes home in a bodybag....
and no one knows why.....
every time a family is evicted,
with nowhere to go....

every time a factory gets shut down,
and the workers walk away with empty
lunchboxes and shattered dreams.....
every time a minister gets up to pray,
and the silent, grieving, walk out...

every time a young girl gets beaten
by a pimp in a back room....
every time a family farm is taken,
every time a tanker leaks oil...

every time a prisoner is executed
for something he didnt do....
every time a protestor gets arrested
for standing up to be counted...

do they ring? and are they
the chimes of freedom....
or the bells of passing....

saying their final farewell!

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The Fight For Freedom

There's a sound it┬┤s heard across the land
It's heard across the sea
You'll only hear it if you listen with your heart
And one day hope to be free

To hear the sound of freedom many gave their lives
They fought for you and me
Those memories will always live inside us
Now it's our time to be free

Where the eagles fly I will soon be there
If you want to come along with me my friend
Say the words and you'll be free
From the mountains to the sea
We'll fight for freedom again

So ring out loud for all the world to hear
From sea to shining sea
Let freedom ring and every man be king
To live as one through the years

Where the eagles fly I will soon be there
If you want to come along with me my friend
Say the words and you'll be free
From the mountains to the sea
We'll fight for freedom again

Now┬┤s the time we all must stand together
So raise your hands show them we are strong
Side by side the fight goes on forever
Marching to the battle with this song

Where the eagles fly I will soon be there
If you want to come along with me my friend
Say the words and you'll be free
From the mountains to the sea
We'll fight for freedom again


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The Bell Of Freedom

Philadelphia's the home of freedom.
Liberty stands at the sound of a bell.
Freedom for the world.That's my religion.
Freedom in the states.That's the way it should be.

Ring-a-ling-a-ling.Here the bell of freedom.
Ring-a-ling-a-ling.Let's also ring this bell for the world.

There's a statue of a lady.In New York City.
Her torch burning bright, for the world to see.
Her meaning's just the same.She looks so pretty.
But nothing like the bell that rings so free.

Philadelphia's the home of freedom.
Liberty stands at the sound of a bell.
Freedom for the world.That's my religion.
Freedom in the states.That's the way it should be.

Ring-a-ling-a-ling.Hear the bell of freedom.
Ring-a-ling-a-ling.Let's also ring this bell for the world.

There's a flag that flies.It holds the same meaning.
Those stars and stripes, just wave in the air.
This flag's got a name.It's called Old Glory.
This flag flies along.While we're ringing the bell.

Ring-a-ling-a-ling.Hear the bell of freedom.
Ring-a-ling-a-ling.Let's also ring this bell for the world.

Philadelphia's the home of freedom.
Liberty stands at the sound of a bell.
Freedom for the world.That's my religion.
Freedom in the states.That's the way it should be.

Ring-a-ling-a-ling.Hear the bell of freedom.
Ring-a-ling-a-ling.Let's also ring this bell for the world...

Patriotic-Song-Poem By Kim Robin Edwards
Copyright 2002,2009..
ALL rights reserved..

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The Colour Of Freedom

The colour of freedom, a symbol of passion
A sign of emotion will show you the way
The colour of freedom for every nation
The heartbeat of peace has never an end
The colour of freedom, a symbol of passion
A sign of emotion will show you the way
The colour of freedom
The colour of freedom and hope
Danger - I wanna guide you trough
To cold in a world, to hot to defend yourself
I'm here to protect you,
Love you, hold you, that's what I told you
Talking - until the morning light
Hold my body tight all night
In my fantasy I turn you on
The dream is over, are you gone?
We are - in a strange situation
You and me as one - no declaration
I say the words you long to hear
Is there anything, I have to fear
Love - it's a prime temptation
Think abouth togetherness - a combination
Is there a price we have to pay
The colour of freedom will show you the way
You're so different - unique like a melody
The harder I try, the better is the remedy
Power energy do you have a memory
Take my hand in reality
Can we try again, just one more time
Can the love we found, be back as yours and mine
So much we need to share
Send me a smile and show you care
I'm searching for the beat, the beat of your heart
Once again let me be a part
A part of your life, a part of your love
A part of what I'm dreaming of
One more chance, we gonna taste it
Now or never, no time to waste it
Is there a price we have to pay
The colour of freedom will show you the way

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The Science of Freedom

For Joseph Beuys,1921-1986

The coordinates of history are the masters of fate:
Where and when we are born determine paths of destiny.

You were fascinated by art but worked as a circus acrobat.
You enrolled to study medicine but Hitler’s war came
And you volunteered to fly in the Luftwaffe.

Diving almost vertically from the skies
You were a rear gunner on a JU 87 Stuka bomber.

Plunging downward with accelerating speed,
The sirens on the wheels screaming terrifyingly in the wind,
Your plane descended on its targets, bringing devastation
And horror to distant lands and nations.

And then,
On a deadly mission in 1943,
Russian fire hit your plane
And you crashed in the Crimea,
The co-pilot killed.

You were severely injured
and say Tatars rescued you,
Covered your body with fat and wrapped it in felt
To keep you warm and so they saved your life.

You created a personal myth out of your wounds
A resurrection and the longing for warmth,
The yearning for caring human contact.

After the war, when you were released
From the British prisoner camp,
You went to study art in Düsseldorf.

You became a professor of sculpture fond of performance.
Once in 1965 walking in a gallery, your face covered
With honey and gold leaf, you held a dead hare
In your arms and explained to it the pictures.

For you, art was the science of freedom
A healing force capable of saving the planet.

In the last years of your life your hands planted
Seven thousand oaks in Kassel.

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The Dream of Freedom

'Twas night, and the moonbeams palely fell
On the gloomy walls of a cheerless cell,
Where a captive sought a brief repose
From the bitter pangs of his waking woes.
O'er the dark blue waves the mighty deep
His spirit roamed in the dream of sleep,
To each well-loved spot of his native shore,
Where joyous he roved in the days of yore.
But o'er each scene a shadow threw
A gloom that never used to be,

All seemed so real, yet so untrue
To things once dear to memory.
The hill-side seemed a prison wall
That, grimly frowning, pained the eye;
The old oak-tree, with branches tall,
Looked like a gibbet 'gainst the sky.
Each face familiar once seemed now
A gaoler-face with a stony stare
A mark was set on each fair brow,

And in each voice were tones of care.
Thus mingled in the dreamer's brain
The present with the olden time,
Life's pleasant things with those of pain
And guiltless days with days of crime.
On, on in dream by lofty hill,
Through forest and o'er stormy wave,
He wandered; but he only still
Beheld a world of fettered slaves.

He saw a king surnamed the Great,
Who ruled the nations by his nod;
To billions his one word was fate -
He was a kind of demi-god.
He sat upon a lofty throne
A monarch, with a monarch's mien,
Earth's fairest forms were all his own,
And untold wealth was his I ween.
In the battlfield his arm was might
And his kingly heart was firm and brave;
But he knew not the charm of freedom's light.
For he was ambition's willing slave.

Then he turned from the monarch's throne to gaze
On a lonely cot in a peaceful dell,
Which lit by the sun's departing rays,
Seemed a home of bliss where no woe could dwell.
At the cottage door, with locks of white,
An old man gazed on the western sky,
And watched the sun's declining light
As it slowely sank from his haggard eye.
Alas! His spirit even there,
Where all around was bright and fair,
Was firmly bound to each crime-stained hour
By vivid mem'ry's haunting power,
While conscience o'er the sea of time
A lurid shade of darkness cast,
And conjured up the deeds of crime
That chained him to a guilty past.

In the captive's dream of fancy wild,
He looked no more on the man of care;
His gaze was fixed on a beauteous child
Who knelt at its mother's feet in prayer.
Its little hands were clasped - its eyes
Uplifted were to paradise;
Its simple words of faith and love
Were registered in heaven above;
Recorded there with angels' tears
As they wept o'er the hopes the mother built,
For they looked through the vista of the coming years,
And saw it fettered to future guilt.

And next he saw a youthful pair,
A gallant youth and maiden fair,
Reclining in a vine wreathed bower
At evening's calm and gentle hour.
Their words were such as lovers speak
When none are near; and on her cheek
The blushes deepened while he knelt
And poured out all his passion felt,
And not in vain. Then surely they
Were happy as a summer-day?
Ah! No, for happiness is twin
To purity of life and soul;
And those who only love in sin
Must wander widely from the goal.
The flowers that scented the ev'ing air,
The stars that gleamed from their home above,
Shed pitying tears for the guilty pair,
For they were the slaves of unholy love.

Then he turned from the things of earth to gaze
On the regions of immortality,
Where seraphs chanted their songs of praise,
And every tongue was tuned in joy,
Where countless thousands, clothed in white,
To angel-harps sang 'We are free,
And all who enter these realms of light
From sin and sorrow shall be as we.
Here freedom's waters bright and fair,
Flow undimmed by a single care;
And all who taste of the crystal tide
Of the stream of life that for ever flows,
Can never again be to sin allied,
And is free forever from earthly woes.'

'Twas now the drear-toned prison bell
Loud-echoed through the captive's cell.
He rose - the vision of the night
Again was present to his sight.
He knelt -with fervency he prayed;
Through faith in Christ, his sins forgiven,
The narrow boundary of the grave
Should be the vestibule of Heaven,
Where, disenthralled from all below,
He'd dwell beyond the starry sky,
Free from the pains of earthly woe,
In never-ending liberty!

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