Pete the Poet (nightpoet), 3 april 2012
I have my own little piece of the world.
It has its problems, but nothin’ too much.
It has its pleasures and there’s more than enough.
And I’ll share them with you; I’ll share them with you.
So, put down that rifle, put down that gun.
Let’s take back those words when hatred begun.
Take down those icons we worship above
The cries of our own, the cries of our own.
Too busy in haste, too light on respect.
The world’s just a blur and light just a spec.
And we breathe in the dust of our leader’s corruption
And aid and abet in our own souls abduction.
Beguiled by the words we believe to be true.
For they’re said with a smile and, they’re said on the news.
No hidden agendas...? We’re programmed to believe.
Are we just losin’ interest, or are we naive?
Who starts the fightin’? It aint you or me.
I didn’t know that I hated, ‘til they planted the seed.
Now we’re runnin’ around shoutin’ death to them all.
When we’re all just as frightened and all just as small.
While the leaders of nations rub their hands with delight
‘cos they won’t shed their blood though they started the fight.
And the next generation will breathe in the dust
To further the aims of our own leaders lust.
I have my own little piece of the world.
It has its problems, but nothin’ too much.
It has its pleasures and there’s more than enough.
And I’ll share them with you; I’ll share them with you.
Pete the Poet (nightpoet), 10 february 2012
She has fallen
through the cracks,
of the system
that just lacks,
that human touch
and eyes that really see
While she
suffered all the bruises
And the worst kind of abuses,
Those that could,
and those that should,
Just let it be.
“Well, it’s not
our fault you know”
“We’re
understaffed and we must toe, the
system rules that
we get from above”
“And although
that we admit, that we
knew of all of
it, her parents said it
was their way of
showing love”
“We have learned
lessons from this case,
now new rules are
put in place, to ensure
that this can’t
happen anymore”
But we all know
that this is shit,
they’re just
painting over it
with a whitewash
that we have seen before.
She has fallen
through the cracks
‘cos no one
listened to the facts
and saw the
scaring on her flesh
and in her eyes.
Now as words are
drowned by silence
And our outrage
has been calmed,
Someone else
slips through the cracks
With silent
cries.
Pete the Poet (nightpoet), 6 february 2012
A thousand cuts are less effective
than one thrust right to the heart.
A thousand words don’t make a sentence
if the truth don’t play a part.
A thousand wishes, true and hopeful,
just stagnate without the deed.
A barren land will stay as empty
without the planting of a seed.
So, thrust your pen into the paper.
Then describe each drop of blood.
Let your words rain down like water,
but don’t turn the dust to mud.
Let the truth be guide and filter
to keep the meaning clear.
Plant your seeds and deeds with meaning,
so they may grow, without the fear.
And each piece, upon its ending,
be aware, it’s just the start.
It’s not your hand that does the writing.
The pen’s gripped firmly by your heart.
Pete the Poet (nightpoet), 4 february 2012
It’s the dogma of the righteous.
It’s the sceptre of the king.
It’s the poison in the chalice.
It’s the axe that madmen swing.
It’s the sorrow for no reason.
It’s the bitterness of tears.
It’s the act without redemption.
It’s the fear, of fear, of fears.
It’s the pain of never knowing.
It’s the wound that never heals.
It’s the pressure of the darkness.
It’s your fate that someone seals.
It’s the waking in the morning.
It’s the building-up of silt.
It’s the last gasp of the drowning.
It is guilt, it’s guilt, it’s guilt.
Pete the Poet (nightpoet), 2 february 2012
Hey where you goin’, said Cheeseburger Joe.
I aint goin’ nowhere, I just go with the flow.
Do you need some company, ‘cos I travel light.
So they stumbled together off into the night.
Do you know what I miss, said Cheeseburger Joe
It’s the light from a candle, and the world goin’ slow.
I know what you mean, darkly came the reply
Seems the worlds in a taxi gone rushin’ by.
Do ya think we fit in……….Beats the hell outta me
We gave up our freedom, in a bid to be free.
Yeah, we do what we like, don’t always like what we do…..
Hey Joe, hold up, I’ve a stone in my shoe.
So Joe took his arm while he struggled to free
The pain in his sole he had had since age three
And it looked like a dance on the sidewalk of life
While they shared of their thoughts that cut like a knife.
You know, every street corner, they all look the same…..
You mean like Jessup and Third and Fourth street and Main.
Yeah, so how is a guy really going to know
If it’s left or it’s right…..
Ah, we’ll just go with the flow.
So, this much they did as they walked round the block
And somehow Joe’d lost one shoe and one sock
So he borrowed this much from his friend on the walk
It was a small price to pay for shared thoughts and small talk.
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