PMPope

Feasting on Both (Fast Food & Organic) Freedom & Liberty Fed on a steady diet Of river rats lashed together On rafts moaning to escape Persecution by dictator  & political factions 'Give me your poor... Yearning to breathe free...' Peopled by the under-appreciated Cast out as slaves by their own Kings & rulers 'We saved our last monies For passage to America...' America is paradise for the persecuted This stronghold of democracy Why is it As Americans, when we visit Other countries, We notice what they DON'T have? "Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!" They come HERE! Everybody & everything We have it all Wall-to-wall I doubt whether 99% Of the world would allow Their country to be populated In a manner so thusly inspired As if some dream

Against the Grain At times in our lives When everything spirals Out of control & beyond any semblance There seems a gnawing, nagging dread Egging us on It is alright to call me later on I am not in a bad mood simply typing with my voice while we're talking yes, audiocontrol I'm putting the words into the device hopefully the words will turn into something to help help people to defeat the negativity wow, they're going through the hardships of life The words in my room in my room and im pretty weird but true the word my room my room spirals and embraces old old also phone phone old home, who would hear it ? we know who Who would share it ? moon doom aurora massacre who would find Scrambling in front of them, know inside of them, sew them in so, Not let them go, Who? It's not brain surgery It's the healing of the spirit & the mind Neither intellect nor firepower

One grain falls in slow motion One teardrop explodes with the force of Armageddon We wait With breath imprisoned Our lives flashing before our eyes We wait As spectators do Watching familiar specters Etched into celluloid Performing super human feats In front of a camera lens With nary care or conviction Before the shot goes to post Before the render farms grab hold Before the animators & colorists The Foley guys... Who will type up the credits For your masterpiece? From the very beginning The first jot of a note Which birthed this spectacle Was written before your birth ... not that you don't possess freewill..., Epic battles have waged & left landscapes lying ragged On the floor Like a crumpled chrysalis For the fact that men will wage war Over ideas & power Or another attempting to force Either of these upon the other They are lovers of themselves & ringing the bells of hell Do not go gently Into that long, dark night Why sho

Not about how many times you try nor is it all failure it's not always open skies to spot the trail time: time: times unaltered rhythm Congested in our human growth But never our desire for expansion Yesterday you forgot about the fake leg Proping you up in this dramedy How accomplished you now seem How earthy How real As much as the joker Who left his prosthesis In a barbecue grill Now he's as rich as Trump Because he got drunk Or alzhiemered out of his mind To the point where he just let go Of trying to keep up Or making pre-fabricated grades & points with the people That don't add up To much In the grand scheme Of things God was looking out for that character Best thing he ever did The way you hear local folk tell it There isn't a failure That can't be turned into an out and out victory Or a single lovin' one of us Without the worth Of life & liberty & the pursuit Of unending joy ~ PMPope 2015©