Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

Oh liberty!
That doth free the hungry minds
Mired in the soot of newsprint
Whose proclamations of freedom
Ring from every mountaintop
Booming with cannon fire
In Baghdad suburbia
Where golden age apocalypse
Sings in immolated promises
Like ashes blown on the wind

Where for art thou American democracy?
Did you lose your way?
Somewhere among the huddled masses
Who stand in line in soup kitchen delirium
Hungry souls who seek salvation
In the waxing and waning dollar
Whose dilapidated derelicts
Dim in the twilight tarnish
Ancient wrecks
Who reek with fumes
Of fermented dreams

Woe betide the American way
Which Stumbles through alley ways
Where lost lambs languish
Amongst the ruins of laissez faire
Where paper plate meal tickets
Summon staggering souls
With pied piper portents
Of mashed potato hopes

and yet
we are the most powerful nation on earth


Our president is called
Get this
He is called
"The leader of the free world"

Your thoughts
your poem I mean
been much on my mind these days
in this season of Joy
I just don't have your gift for expression

thanks for giving me words to say it

Stilltrucking, I surmise that many people are thinking along these lines now. Lady Liberty is lost on distant continents when we need her back home. Thank you so much for reading my poem.

John

some powerful words, John,
but somehow it ends too quickly
leaving me waiting for part two

but i don't want part two, i only
want an ending to our misery
on a half shell once called liberty

And your sun-decked desert and evergreen valleys
Turn to broken down slums and trash-can alleys

Bob Dylan, from poem,"Last Thoughts on Woody Guthrie".

It seems that each generation is doomed to repeat the mistakes and tragedies of the previous.

When will they ever learn? When will they ever learn?

Pete Seegar

John

a smile for you, John

John