Freeing oneself from words is liberation.
Words of liberation for my nation
Chains of slavery are still over my people.
Notorious minds still over power innocent minds.
What can free the black child, what can free my nation?
I ask in pain and suffering in the dark jail cells,
What can free me from mental slavery?
How to know right from wrong?
How to think free and build a free society?
The solution is in the words of liberation, the words of wisdom.
I write and recite a revolution, my revolution my poetry.
I do n’t need praises or worship but only recognition and understanding of the people to words of liberation, understanding of poetry.
I stand before you to present poetry,
I stand before you to present the words of liberation to my nation.
Poetry that builds, poetry that destroys.
Poetry that destroyed the impious minds of colonists in Rhodesia.
I speak of poetry that built freedom in South Africa.
When I speak of poetry I mean the true meaning of words.
Words of wisdom,
Words of freedom,
Words of liberation,
Words to free my nation.
The words of liberation to my nation
Words of liberation to free my generation
An important consequence of freeing oneself from the fear of death is a radical opening to spirituality of a universal and non-denominational type.
Learning From Words
I learn sometimes in my sleep when I wink,
Or when I stand tall, suppressing only some of my thoughts.
To sit is learned; affected by love the soul weeps,
Fasting will occur as the soul weeps further.
My learning collapses when I am drunk
From liqueurs so sweet;
Or when I am drunk from the words I choose
The sweet wine of heaven seems to cascade.
On my head is a spell of magic
Taken from the arms of a priest so logical
In the way of his denomination.
I learn so well from him,
Rather than from wine or words of plain speech.
Why You Have Not Heard From Me
You wish to validate your sorrows.
In a misery that loves company.
And you wonder why you have not heard from me?
I've been too busy living.
Freeing myself from an empathy...
You have become too dependent upon.
And unhappy you become,
When I do not express with you...
A grief we both can agree.
To feed a craving like an addicted need.
That's why you have not heard from me.
I'm sticking to my rehabilitation.
What Kind Of Poet Is He?
To express oneself with words is to be a poet.
Generally anyone who writes could be considered a poet.
It just to what magnitude, and degree are you?
Do you do it with passion?
Do you do it with a sense fashion? (I try to do it with both, but that is not always achieved. But I always do it with passion for I love to write.)
Does their always have to be a purpose behind it?
Or can you start writing and see where it leads.(A lot of the time that's me, but I do both with and without purpose.)
Do you do it all the time, does come in waves, or is it a one time thing.(For me it comes in waves.)
Is they a trigger, or is it spur of the moment? (Me in general it is triggered by an emotion. It doesn't matter where it comes from either.)
So you see it's not a question of are you a poet, but what kind of poet are you?
Reflex Musings: Reflections from Various Surfaces
In the dense entangled street,
Where the web of Trade is weaving,
Forms unknown in crowds I meet
Much of each and all believing;
Each his small designs achieving
Hurries on with restless feet,
While, through Fancy’s power deceiving,
Self in every form I greet.
Oft in yonder rocky dell
Neath the birches’ shadow seated,
I have watched the darksome well,
Where my stooping form, repeated,
Now advanced and now retreated
With the spring’s alternate swell,
Till destroyed before completed
As the big drops grew and fell.
By the hollow mountain-side
Questions strange I shout for ever,
While the echoes far and wide
Seem to mock my vain endeavour;
Still I shout, for though they never
Cast my borrowed voice aside,
Words from empty words they sever—
Words of Truth from words of Pride.
Yes, the faces in the crowd,
And the wakened echoes, glancing
From the mountain, rocky browed,
And the lights in water dancing—
Each my wandering sense entrancing,
Tells me back my thoughts aloud,
All the joys of Truth enhancing
Crushing all that makes me proud.
Yeats so simply stated
' Words alone are certain good. '
And to the great poet
So highly rated
I try to listen, as I should; Yet
Being an untrained novice
Such as me
With verdant hopes of much improvement
- oh that I would -
I beg to slightly differ with W. B.
And offer here my humble opinion
- if I could -
Good certainly is not words alone,
For without humanity
To read and to write
How would they ever become known?
- For without the good of people
Who of these words would care
Ever to be heard, or even shared?
No, the good does not alone from words arise,
Rather from human beings
Whose entire story
Such words do attempt to comprise.......
- Words written in this time
May even the way
To a distant future find,
But not on their own
And never alone.
For it takes people's
- hand's to write
- eye's to read
- heart and soul to understand
The purpose, and the need.
Let it here be shown
Are not the only good,
They need human beings
To give goodness and life
To their reason and meaning
For they are merely the vehicle
By which man's true good
Is found and understood.
Much Today Is Not Of The Lord
This world has changed in so many ways in these ever darkening days,
For it used to be The God of Grace, but now its wicked men we praise.
Today many entering God's marriage covenant enter totally deceived,
For those who wish to, have changed Adam to Madam and Eve to Steve.
Pure religion is keeping oneself from the world so not to be polluted,
But we have embraced the world so that our theology is convoluted.
Soldiers serving God have no time to be involved in civilian affairs,
But too often the Gospel is put aside, only to address worldly cares.
God makes it very clear that a rebellious spirit should be corrected,
Today we are told to stay encouraged, as this is only to be expected.
The Lord Himself said that we are not to call anyone on earth Father,
But ordinary men dismiss The Lord simply because they wear a collar.
Church is where you strengthen your Faith by hearing sound theology,
Unfortunately many pulpits today are smothered in worldly psychology.
As you struggle through your week church is a place to be encouraged,
But Satan has planted so many weeds at times you leave discouraged.
John the Baptist's words echoed on, “Repent for The Kingdom is near.”
Today many balk all my sins are forgiven, so what do I have to fear?
Much today is not of The Lord, who will one day very soon condemn it,
And many will be left behind when He raptures His remaining remnant.
(Copyright © 04/2003)
Great events may stem from words of no importance.
The whole problem of the sound-work is distancing oneself from the dramatic.
Do not free a camel of the burden of his hump; you may be freeing him from being a camel.
Do not free the camel of the burden of his hump; you may be freeing him from being a camel.
Derive happiness in oneself from a good day's work, from illuminating the fog that surrounds us.
All deception in the course of life is indeed nothing else but a lie reduced to practice, and falsehood passing from words into things.
i hold a needle
in my fingers
and i let it fall
from a black
into a persian
the sound of its
and it is so quiet.
Slavery to monarchs and ministers, which the world will be long freeing itself from, and whose deadly grasp stops the progress of the human mind, is not yet abolished.
Love in deed has no word.
If the love is shown in kind words
Less in store is love to come in deeds.
If the love is shown in kind deeds
Less in store is love to come from words
this Christmas i shall give love
i shall dream
and i shall share with you
whatever i love and whatever
i am freeing myself from money
because what i shall give you
What Live On
tree have pressure
reach for the sky
its nature animal
is wrestling each other
what live on
from words meaning
It is curious how instinctively one protects the image of oneself from idolatry or any other handling that could make it ridiculous, or too unlike the original to be believed any longer.