Quotes about flag, page 87
Undress for the T.S.A (tune of Come to the Cabaret)
What good is sittin' alone in your room
Hop on a flight today,
First Take off your coat, your hat, your shoes
Undress for the T.S.A..
We’ll scan your suitcase, your ipod and phone
Mister, we have all day,
Undress for the T.S.A. you scum
Undress for the T.S.A..
We grope the guys, we fondle girls
Best of all our acts are legal
Because we’re working for the Eagle
No use permittin' a Prophet’s buffoons
To Wipe every smile away, yes
Undress for the T.S.A. you scum
Undress for the T.S.A!
What good are privacy rights anymore?
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poem by John F. McCullagh
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Fair Time
September sings a sonnet
To a May Queen in a Forest
She's fallen from her kingdom
Raped in perfect season
A werewolf and a butterfly
Welcome spring time's symphony
Siphon joy upon a wind song
And they carry me
Affronted sapphire flurries
From a time long passed
Whisper Latin to a mirror
Fogged with shame
I see the nymph alone
Rapping a drum, splendorous gold
The giants and the angels
Drunk on dusk's horizon
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poem by Gloria Valencourt
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From History We've Not Learned
Men crucified the one millions now worship more than two thousand years ago
Yet many men they are as cruel today and any compassion towards others they never seem to show
And the gifts of compassion and empathy to the special few belong
And many far too many seemingly cannot tell right from wrong
Two thousand and seven years ago Jesus Christ was crucified
And nailed to a timber cross on Calvary slowly and painfully he died
Yet we have not learned from human history and it does seem sad to say
That nowadays many decent people die in the foulest way,
The war supposed to end all wars did not live up to it's tag
Young people dying in war zones every day for God and Land and Flag
Before we learn the lesson of history how many more must die
War men mock the sacredness of human life and many wars based on a lie
It has been more than two thousand years since Christ died on Calvary
And from history we've not learned a thing that's how 'twould seem to be.
poem by Francis Duggan
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If We All Looked The Same
If we all looked the same and believed in the same God and any Country did not have a border
There would be peace on Planet Earth and there would be law and order
And we all spoke the one language and the World was one big Nation
We would not have nationalism and we would not have discrimination
We would not have the things in our lives that always causes schism
Those awful things that even rhyme patriotism and racism
Though some will tell you I am one that difference does make us interesting
To many difference it does seem to their reasoning can be testing
No war men or terrorists for to fight for God and flag of Nation
But sad to think of what I say here is born of imagination
Since negativity rules the Human World we lack trust in each other
We wage war on those different and we wage war on our Earth Mother
If we all looked the same and had the one God and the World was one Nation
The flower of peace would be in full bloom a cause for joy and celebration.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Fall Of War
How many lost people will lose so you could gain
Is it possible for you to make the Earth spin faster?
How much will they pay for your mistakes?
Could you sleep better if you were sane?
Oh America
Why pray to a flag?
It won't wrap you up and keep you warm
Why set the times for you to fight?
When you fall asleep, you won't dream with clocks under your arms
Oh America
Destiny isn't charted or drawn
Faith is an imagination
Hope is a give and take kind of thing
Domination is your mostly likely flaw, but I hate it
Oh America
Stop
Drop your weapons
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poem by Tamisha Bellamy
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The Problems of Green
The problems of green have their own colors:
But they all together only cost five dollars: like the stripes
On the Mexican flag:
And Alma making up her own excuses for whatever she does or
Doesn’t do:
And the roads to and away from her are being used,
But her children are doing good:
And I am in my own house in my own graveyard inebriate and
Scarred:
And maybe she will read this, and maybe she will go down
River and find more beautiful boys and read them,
Her brown skin getting goose bumped over her brown and
Perfect skin;
She is the only female I ever think about or try to smell:
And I come to her in the fruit market and then drive away, as my
Life recesses, grows frantic from its lacking amusements,
Or doesn’t exist at all:
And the green planes frolic in the green clouds;
And the hungry green foxes leap for the out of reach grapes,
Vermillion in their over abundance and in their virginal aptitudes,
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poem by Bret R. Crabrooke
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Baby Picture
It's in the heart of the grape
where that smile lies.
It's in the good-bye-bow in the hair
where that smile lies.
It's in the clerical collar of the dress
where that smile lies.
What smile?
The smile of my seventh year,
caught here in the painted photograph.
It's peeling now, age has got it,
a kind of cancer of the background
and also in the assorted features.
It's like a rotten flag
or a vegetable from the refrigerator,
pocked with mold.
I am aging without sound,
into darkness, darkness.
Anne,
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poem by Anne Sexton
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American Slaves
blatent mediocrity, constant uniformity,
tongues pierced with an anvil.
eyes fogged from realization,
minds trained for situations,
paper hearts, electric candles.
cry of desperation, self becomes a nation,
stepping over bodies without heads.
the newscaster plots his story,
selling condoms in purgatory,
fanning the flames o'er the dead.
ghosts in hell, souls without conscience.
take another pill for deliverence.
children buried in unmarked graves.
oil rigs pumping, American slaves.
flag waving, constant craving,
neon lights blink on and off.
sex heals, addictive thrills,
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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I Am Sick......
i am sick of your justice...
sick of dead bodies strewn,
sick of your bursts of gunfire,
and your bombs without conscience.
sick of the napalm fingers of your equality,
trading flesh for nickels and dime.
sick of your powder and your pills,
sick of the rape of the young girl
beneath your flag!
i am sick of your nuclear bibles,
sick of your buying and trading.
i am sick of the pound of your oil rigs,
sick of the stink of your morality.
i am sick of your hanging trees,
your courtrooms stacked.
i am sick of the money you sleep with,
sick of your colorless freedom.
i am sick of your smokestacks gone silent.
sick of your riot squads gassing.
i am sick of the amendments you've twisted,
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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Multi-facetness
A recovery from discovering a wrong has been done,
Can save one...
From a two faced reputation.
With an extra step of pride to take.
Far less pretentious.
But still refreshing.
Yet...
Today,
Two faced folks are fascinated...
By their own images.
With time taken to perfect them.
These folks can be heard often saying,
They do not discriminate.
You know...
The apple pie eating flag waving types?
Whose ancestors arrived,
Carrying Gucci packed in Louie Vitton.
And wearing only the clothes on their backs,
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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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