choked by the cord.
conceived in darkness,
becoming light!
we are hearts made of feet,
feet that walk the path.
feet that slip and fall,
feet that take the wrong turn.
feet that keep on walking,
sore, tired, hurting.
feet of desire, and purpose,
feet of soulful intent!
all the great philosophies
come to this…
feet that only stop walking
to bandage other feet;
then walk together,
leaving one set of prints!
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the small print
your trembling lips,stopped the tears,and the roar of hungerin the tiny bud opening.the tongue that gropesfor a dropp of rain…seed wrapped in dirt,that sunlight,and turning set free.the smallest things,bring form to shadow.it is in the smallest thingsthat we find the immortal!
in order for peaceful protests
we cant just protest against,we must also protest for!if we’re protesting againstthe financial inequalitiesin this country or abroad….we have to have specific changes,and a specific plan in mind.and we have to be united on this!tax the rich, stop the oil wars,reopen our factories….put our people back to work….make ‘made in America’ meansomething again!stop the use…
another tree cut down,
another book gets banned,another protest on American soil.another politician lies,another banker forecloses.another family on the street,another small business closes.another mill shut down,another farm goes bank.another river polluted,can you put that in your tank?another child becomes an addict,another young girl sold like meat.another old man dies….dancing to the beat….why, why, and why?cant you hear your children…
the hand of God, the hand of fate,
humanity, cursed by apathy,acts of murder in God’s name.national pride, guess what they lied,putting money in the bank.bombs falling, terror crawling,putting gas in the tanks.and the world comes crashing down.in too deep, the fearful drown.stand up and be, or just sit down.what goes around comes around.
why do i write?
be it clever use of wordsand phrase… rhymes,cadence, hidden meanings….no, what makes it realis this: when you cantake the tears from ahungry child’s face…and write them with anaked hand… and givethem as a gift so intimateand near to the heart,that it causes someone elseto feel this hunger, andto want to do somethingabout it, to get…
god is the moment you stop to listen,
the time you spend walking beside,the last bite, the last dollar, you share.the day you take the time to care,every small act of kindness.the tears you weep with,the lonliness you fill…the cup of water, the gentle caress.the hands on your neighbor’s shovel,the stand you take though ridiculed.the honesty that wears your failures,and embraces the failures…