Political

The longer I live, the less I am able to see, the good, kind, and honorable
Are those traits now uncommon, believed unworthy, are they improbable
With every step I take, I do knowing others died for the freedoms I enjoy
In South Africa, the first free election, people waited many hours with joy
Their struggle for freedom and equality led them to appreciate the rights
We've lost our vision for the future, lost a desire to enter an injustice fight
Who are we to ignore the chance to enact our privileges of being citizens?
Who are we to forget what makes us all part of the great corporate vision?

The Bear

Yes, Putin and the modern Russian state don't have the world's favor for a reason
Ukraine and Russia have had similar cultures with different goals and seasons
Russia might be aggressive but it doesn't act in a vacuum, or without thought
I see a people who have paid for every step forward with three brutal steps back
Imagine a people who suffered millions upon millions dead from 1905 to 1945
In famines, world wars, revolutions, wars of imperial expansion and civil wars
In modern times we've never seen a Russia that was not in sorrow and hunger
Nazism might never have been defeated without their efforts, or their sacrifices
Is there a modern arrangement of power requiring different levels of civilization
A situation where some are meant to suffer, as others enjoy luxury, abundance?
Why do we feel so cold to the suffering of a people, is it fear?  Is it envy?

Judge not the past

Apache youths would run holding a mouth full of water
To avoid mouth breathing, keep their throat from drying
They'd run up a mountain, and back, and then spat it out
The result of great physical ability and fulfilled potential
When people wonder what makes a warrior people act
It is a difference, routine of hard life, life with no doubt
Spartans of ancient Greece had similar, grueling tasks
Trained hard upon living, with citizenship the reward
Sparta was the backbone of defense against empires
Moderns see this as abuse, others as child punishment
But times are different, and the past was about survival
Modernity is about how to thrive, rather than to endure
I refuse to judge what I've not lived, nor could I know

Human Exodus

In the midst of this storm, there comes a moment
Appreciating the menacing clouds, malevolence
Knowing no human could ever hold such power
Until the advent of the nuclear age, with a regret
An atomic thunder, violence leading to an exodus
Fleeing doesn't matter, for this is the final hour

"Any human power can be resisted and changed by
human beings. Resistance and change often begin in
art, and very often in our art, the art of words.”

                                                 Ursula K. Le Guin

Answers

The end of the matter, a question answered
Life is rich in opportunity, rich with cancer
Who are we to ask why, we've only to live
For me results of life require me to forgive
It isn't easy, we might live in pain or in fear
As time wears our edges smooth with tears
If we delve the depths of our soul to forget
Maybe we'll learn others actions left regret
And in the end, how perfect am I to judge
Might not be easy, but I've chosen to trust
The time for me is now, with the past gone
Alive now, soon dead but then a new dawn
I am ready and perfectly prepared for awe
Let it be, I am ready, my time is done

“I have no idea what's awaiting me, or what will happen
when this all ends. For the moment I know this: there are
sick people and they need curing.”             Albert Camus

The Senses Fulfilled

The wind gives my lungs breath, reviving my flesh
As the ocean waves renew with my tears, my trust
Who can I be in this place, without your embrace
You came to me in the flood, at last I knew love
My secrets found a home as my heart found hope
I can, at last, sleep, live with you there in dream
Keeping me alive with thought, in solitude serene

Midnight Awareness

Pitch black, after midnight, the darkness flows without light
A time for dreaming is far away, now begins the reckoning
Mistaken words, acts without foresight, wisdom is fading
The abyss of guilt is filled, but only the innocent know guilt
Wherever one sees himself, no more dreams are made to fit
Emptiness of sorrow, chasm of justification, churning regret
We've dreamed of ways to escape fate, sorrow never relents
And we've been offered no hope, only the darkness of the pit

To Awaken in a world of sleep walkers

They spend their days, in debate over the height and weight of God's angels
Finding the endless questions without answers moving, thrilling, satisfying
They ask, with great sincerity, how many can angels dance on a head of a pin
Crafting a dialogue between God and Christ, asking who is the worst sinner
The theologians timelessly chat, as they measure the depth of our stain within
They refuse to answer real questions, with their subjects they pick and choose
So was Jesus Christ god, a god + man or just a man bringing such good news
Do we have an offer of forgiveness if we fall, as we walk on the path of truth
How can we balance human reason and intuition, if they weren't gifts at birth
Since we are morally flawed and fail constantly, when we fall, what can we do?

The Masquerade Ends

I was imprisoned for my rage, for all of my anger
It was your lack of love that made me your stranger
What am I to do, being raised with an empty heart
I've nowhere to run with this heart covered in scars
I can't escape, I never could, you made that certain
The play is over, masquerade ends, fall the curtain
The mask falls off, my flesh can't bear the task
There is nothing left but survival
Waiting for the end's arrival

“Masks reveal. They don’t conceal. Masks reveal your cravings,
your passion, your deepest most secret desires.” Chloe Thurlow

Waves and Voices

Some people ask where is the love, where is the true emotion
As we're wrapped in our lives, awash in the waves of an ocean
We prefer things to be easy, but nothing easy is ever as good
The flood of emotions and love will come, like finding truth
We can't find the path, while focused upon life's other choices
We can't hear sounds of hope when drowned by other voices

"The building stood on a narrow point of land- or what was now
a narrow point of land-fully three hundred feet above what must
lately have been a seething vortex of mad waters." HP Lovecraft