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When his brother came under attack :
First he did nothing
Secondly he rejoiced in his distress
Third he took advantage of his vulnerable state
Fourth he joined in the violence against him

One reaps what he sews
One gathers in return what he has given
He heaps destruction like ashes upon his head
As he is standing he is as good as dead
Thinking is dead!
Time of hearts
Waves of stars

Since the first day
Be silent!
To hear nothing

The faces of thieves wither
The garden shrinks
From trees concrete arose

Then came new people
On a journey toward love
Departure to remain

The night will have passed
On the stubble of the father's beard
Persistent giant

Star-colored waves
I give you my heart
Thinking is dead!
Thinking is Dead!
Yes, I am a poet
I feed blank pages, words for meat
Yes, I am a poet
I dip in my ink ***, rinse and repeat
Yes, I am a poet
I’m a minor for gold, digging and clawing
All my feelings exposed
Yes, I am a poet
Trading writing for love, to sing with the angels
Down on earth and above
Yes, I am a poet
My blood is my ink, my tears are my heaven
Sail the oceans, then sink
Yes, I am a poet
No tears left to dry, yet feeling emotions
I cannot deny
Yes, I am a poet
The mind grips tight
holds on to the what might
but the what might was last night
and now it is the morning.

woke up yawning
saw no chasm
this will be a lucky day.

showered and shaved
saved
breakfast 'til last
then
realised I have to work,

still feeling lucky
but *** me
no rest for the wicked.
Divide and conquer, deride compassion.
Indulgent resentment exposes the actions.
Wolves dressed as lambs, lambs as wolves.
Nobody believes in good ideas.

Craft deceptive reasons behind the words of love.
Stuff your victims into the dark, cramped box.
Do your work quietly, with discipline.

When the red moon rises
the energy of broken breaths
strengthens your existence.
Illusory peace as a weary sigh.

You laugh
when they try to unmask your behavior
Whispering: just another pathetic attempt
of hysterical souls, not pragmatic solutions.

Different actors, new stages.
You’re always the same,
Irresistible.
Call no man happy till he's dead
Call no man Flintstone
Till he's Fred
They seem
The same
Until contextualised
Call no man happy till he's died.
I am not here
to wage a war of wills,
I am carrying concerns
too heavy, too still.

Which gather like weights
deep inside my chest,
until my silence
can no longer rest.

Can you hear my voice rising,
as I plot my tactful course,
but you miss the frustration
trembling at its worried source.

I speak out in haste,
as I fear my words will fade,
because these feelings
have been long delayed.

It is not anger which drives
my urgent demands,
but, it is with hope that you
will finally understand.

Through all of this noise,
beneath the strain,
There is a caring soul
that is tired and in pain.

And I am not here
for the victory,
I am just hoping
for some humility.

So please, listen out
for the softness
within my voice,
brevity is my only choice.

I am now desperately trying
to break through,
with hands outstretched,
to talk with you.

©️Lizzie Bevis
Those who have tasted freedom
will die to defend it
to live under slavery
would be worse than the worst death
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