fleapy
Smash Journeyman
It pains to know that the biggest epidemic right now the u.s.a faces is obesity. Imagine what the world would be like if we divided our share of money. The amount of money it costs for the troops to go into Iraq, or the amount of money North America pays for ice cream in one year could be enough to give every one in Africa shelter and food. That’s what really inspired me.
The Block
The corpses of Warsaw rot the streets
For Michael and Leila there is never retreat
The regime of Hitler is the rule
To the world: a traitor
Cramped in the ghetto
They don’t know why
Star around their neck they look to the sky
It’s still blue, the prettiest thing around
Small gaps appear in the tallest wall
Tiny enough just for the young one Leila
At midnight she sneaks out while Michael keeps watch
And comes back with half a loaf of bread
Michael goes to see mom
She never stands up
With all her might she gives him a smile
“Here mom” he says, giving her a huge chunk of bread
Gratefully she wolfs it.
Continuing this sneaking to the dreadful day
Half of their friends are deported, along with dad
The wall is blocked up
And food is non-existent.
The visit
we step down from the plane to partial hell
Men, children, women are weeping; there empty
We unloaded the rice, and a bag fell
A rush, and Mr. got some. Full felt he.
The houses are simply dirt and mud
The humans as in important as rats
Yet within some lies hope of a rosebud
Still they will always be treated like mats
Once a family gets all of their share
They all get together to eat and eat
They have not eaten in days, and they smear
But that is ok, it tastes oh so sweet
From over there to were I am standing
For a while there is no demanding
Cinquians
Relief
A wash of good
first taste of proper food
Extinguishing all of the pain
Swallow
Living
Good and evil
Crying, starving, doing
Yet with no caring we wont live
Moving
Haikus
Doctor walk in town
Sees all the blindness and death
Knows he has to help
Sitting there half dead
Nothing to give them power
Time moves not caring
Pain strikes constantly
People falling to the floor
And the floor dries wet
The Busker
The busker sits there with his acoustic
He wraps himself only with his chords and vocals
He plays the crowd pleaser; Neil young
And an old man flips him 3 dollars
“Thank you”
The cold rusty frets begin to hurt his tips
The cold eats away at his bleeding fingers
But if he wants dinner tonight he has to keep playing
He looks, and is pleased to see a growing crowd
“Anyone like Clapton?”
He begins to end his final song
The time is 11:30
A youngster drops a rolled up bill in the hat
And the man smiles down to him
He then packs his bags and looks at his final pay
10 dollars and 12 cents
“Not to bad” he thinks to himself
And then he buys some Wendy’s.
Aid Alive
Doctors go to see where the troubles lie
Malnutrition, diseases, death and grief
Volunteers who do whatever they can
But more has to be done
Candy stained boxes used to raise funds
To help children get fed and awake
Rock stars sing on stage to help aid
And then there’s 30-hour famines used to break fools
Greed however steals lots of this wealth
Mugabi sits without a care in the world
His people are dying, but he doesn’t care
In all it just isn’t really fair
Desert-vegetation
Desert
Parched, lifeless
Burning, Drifting, Wishing
Oasis, Dunes, Plants, Water
Breathing, Feeding, Growing
Fresh, Green
Vegetation
Lost in sufering
Loving and losing their families
Others never got to know them
Suppertime is very short, if atoll
That’s how it is
If they are ever full
Nothing would be on par
Standing there tear cheeked she holds her loving grannies hand
Understand, as she does, that her mom is no more
Flying away to a better place they can’t do
Eternal pain is what they all live with
Resting in their muddied shelter cant be easy
Internal organs scream for energy
Nothing can be given to please them
Grain is the best they have
The birthday
Mothers stress to make a perfect day
”Where’s my pizza slice”?
“Why were Cindy’s presents bigger then mine”?
“I like sponge bob, not superman”
“It’s time for the cake”
“ I only like strawberry”
“ I want my loot bag”
All the while, some 4,000 miles away
A mother smiles to herself
“ My child survived another day”.
The Block
The corpses of Warsaw rot the streets
For Michael and Leila there is never retreat
The regime of Hitler is the rule
To the world: a traitor
Cramped in the ghetto
They don’t know why
Star around their neck they look to the sky
It’s still blue, the prettiest thing around
Small gaps appear in the tallest wall
Tiny enough just for the young one Leila
At midnight she sneaks out while Michael keeps watch
And comes back with half a loaf of bread
Michael goes to see mom
She never stands up
With all her might she gives him a smile
“Here mom” he says, giving her a huge chunk of bread
Gratefully she wolfs it.
Continuing this sneaking to the dreadful day
Half of their friends are deported, along with dad
The wall is blocked up
And food is non-existent.
The visit
we step down from the plane to partial hell
Men, children, women are weeping; there empty
We unloaded the rice, and a bag fell
A rush, and Mr. got some. Full felt he.
The houses are simply dirt and mud
The humans as in important as rats
Yet within some lies hope of a rosebud
Still they will always be treated like mats
Once a family gets all of their share
They all get together to eat and eat
They have not eaten in days, and they smear
But that is ok, it tastes oh so sweet
From over there to were I am standing
For a while there is no demanding
Cinquians
Relief
A wash of good
first taste of proper food
Extinguishing all of the pain
Swallow
Living
Good and evil
Crying, starving, doing
Yet with no caring we wont live
Moving
Haikus
Doctor walk in town
Sees all the blindness and death
Knows he has to help
Sitting there half dead
Nothing to give them power
Time moves not caring
Pain strikes constantly
People falling to the floor
And the floor dries wet
The Busker
The busker sits there with his acoustic
He wraps himself only with his chords and vocals
He plays the crowd pleaser; Neil young
And an old man flips him 3 dollars
“Thank you”
The cold rusty frets begin to hurt his tips
The cold eats away at his bleeding fingers
But if he wants dinner tonight he has to keep playing
He looks, and is pleased to see a growing crowd
“Anyone like Clapton?”
He begins to end his final song
The time is 11:30
A youngster drops a rolled up bill in the hat
And the man smiles down to him
He then packs his bags and looks at his final pay
10 dollars and 12 cents
“Not to bad” he thinks to himself
And then he buys some Wendy’s.
Aid Alive
Doctors go to see where the troubles lie
Malnutrition, diseases, death and grief
Volunteers who do whatever they can
But more has to be done
Candy stained boxes used to raise funds
To help children get fed and awake
Rock stars sing on stage to help aid
And then there’s 30-hour famines used to break fools
Greed however steals lots of this wealth
Mugabi sits without a care in the world
His people are dying, but he doesn’t care
In all it just isn’t really fair
Desert-vegetation
Desert
Parched, lifeless
Burning, Drifting, Wishing
Oasis, Dunes, Plants, Water
Breathing, Feeding, Growing
Fresh, Green
Vegetation
Lost in sufering
Loving and losing their families
Others never got to know them
Suppertime is very short, if atoll
That’s how it is
If they are ever full
Nothing would be on par
Standing there tear cheeked she holds her loving grannies hand
Understand, as she does, that her mom is no more
Flying away to a better place they can’t do
Eternal pain is what they all live with
Resting in their muddied shelter cant be easy
Internal organs scream for energy
Nothing can be given to please them
Grain is the best they have
The birthday
Mothers stress to make a perfect day
”Where’s my pizza slice”?
“Why were Cindy’s presents bigger then mine”?
“I like sponge bob, not superman”
“It’s time for the cake”
“ I only like strawberry”
“ I want my loot bag”
All the while, some 4,000 miles away
A mother smiles to herself
“ My child survived another day”.