Straight to the point:
I am not American or as we say in Australia "a Yank / Yankee" and I have never wanted to be American. (Yes I know that in the U.S.A. a "Yankee" is an American from the northern states in America but for the rest of the world a "Yankee" simply means an American)
I am an Australian living in Tokyo, Japan.
So it may seem strange to you that I would write a poem about being American and living in the United Sates of America.
My reasons for doing are many fold:
1) It was a challenge for myself to write as another person may see, feel and, or think.
2) America voting a black man to be the president of their country is a turning point for America and quite frankly an historical event. It has shown the world the that democracy and equal rights for all DO WORK.
3) I have spoken to many of my American friends, Americans I know less well, Americans in chat rooms & BBS's throughout the world about their views and feelings at seeing Mr. Obama elected as President.
And also watching TV such as CNN etc and seeing the reaction of people in America, the TV-people and the people around the world.
I have tired to capture all this in my poem "America Is Me". I hope that I have done them justice.
Syrbastyian
Friday 30 January 2009
Poem: America Is Me
" America Is Me "
I watched a black man walk down the steps,
and stand before a kaleidoscope crowd.
He took an oath and promised to defend this land.
A simple act but in it contains so much.
It renews the faith,
the dreams and hopes,
That were fading, and even dying,
but were help so dear before.
I had lost faith in America,
lost belief in it's possibilities,
forgotten it's hope and the American dream.
I should have known better,
cause this land, these people,
in the end succeed.
To light a path,
to light the way,
for all to see.
This nation of all nations,
shows all that dreams become possibilities,
and in-turn become realities.
I watched a black man walk down the steps,
and he gave a speech.
Not some long-winded sermon,
but short, true and sweet.
The crowd held to every word,
some smiled, some nodded, some wept.
Words that spoke of past and it's hard won betterness.
Words that spoke of present realities and needs.
Words that spoke of and inspired hope.
But most of all they spoke of personal responsibility,
and reminded us all that it is this, which we must accept gladly.
He spoke of country,
this great nation,
full of immense beauty.
The beauty of the land that comes from it's people.
It is these people,
who hold these truths firm and do more than dream.
They say "Yes We Can" and work to make ideas real.
And this affirms the American way, an American life.
America the beautiful,
America the brave,
The Amercian dream.
A land,
made of all people,
of all nations,
and of all tribes,
This is what makes the nation so great.
All the differences create one identity.
Where every person of the great country,
can say and know in their heart,
Amercia is me.
I watched a black man walk down the steps,
and stand before a kaleidoscope crowd.
He took an oath and promised to defend this land.
A simple act but in it contains so much.
It renews the faith,
the dreams and hopes,
That were fading, and even dying,
but were help so dear before.
I had lost faith in America,
lost belief in it's possibilities,
forgotten it's hope and the American dream.
I should have known better,
cause this land, these people,
in the end succeed.
To light a path,
to light the way,
for all to see.
This nation of all nations,
shows all that dreams become possibilities,
and in-turn become realities.
I watched a black man walk down the steps,
and he gave a speech.
Not some long-winded sermon,
but short, true and sweet.
The crowd held to every word,
some smiled, some nodded, some wept.
Words that spoke of past and it's hard won betterness.
Words that spoke of present realities and needs.
Words that spoke of and inspired hope.
But most of all they spoke of personal responsibility,
and reminded us all that it is this, which we must accept gladly.
He spoke of country,
this great nation,
full of immense beauty.
The beauty of the land that comes from it's people.
It is these people,
who hold these truths firm and do more than dream.
They say "Yes We Can" and work to make ideas real.
And this affirms the American way, an American life.
America the beautiful,
America the brave,
The Amercian dream.
A land,
made of all people,
of all nations,
and of all tribes,
This is what makes the nation so great.
All the differences create one identity.
Where every person of the great country,
can say and know in their heart,
Amercia is me.
Poem: Cigarettes
" Cigarettes "
Cigarettes, what is wrong with them.
Every government is against them,
though they are perfectly happy to hoard the tax the get from them.
Take these dividends to spend and cover misspent deeds.
Seems like everyone says NO! NO!,
but secretly inside they too want to know the selfish pleasure.
The selfish pleasure of cigarettes.
Rebel, rebel against the P.T.A. hypocritical endocrine.
The P.T.A. moral mongering,
but in the back rooms they are puffing away.
Coffee and cigarettes,
Tea and cigarettes,
Alcohol and cigarettes,
Sex and cigarettes,
It is perfect, it is natural, it is meant to be.
Go on, light up, have a cigarette.
Enjoy it, take pleasure in it.
Feel good about you.
Cigarette, it not a bad habit.
It is a statement to live my life my way.
Cigarettes, what is wrong with them.
Every government is against them,
though they are perfectly happy to hoard the tax the get from them.
Take these dividends to spend and cover misspent deeds.
Seems like everyone says NO! NO!,
but secretly inside they too want to know the selfish pleasure.
The selfish pleasure of cigarettes.
Rebel, rebel against the P.T.A. hypocritical endocrine.
The P.T.A. moral mongering,
but in the back rooms they are puffing away.
Coffee and cigarettes,
Tea and cigarettes,
Alcohol and cigarettes,
Sex and cigarettes,
It is perfect, it is natural, it is meant to be.
Go on, light up, have a cigarette.
Enjoy it, take pleasure in it.
Feel good about you.
Cigarette, it not a bad habit.
It is a statement to live my life my way.
Poem: Say I Love You
" Say I Love You "
If I say "I love you" everyday,
does that make the words mean less.
If I say "I love you", once a year.
Does that make the words mean more.
How about I just say,
I love you.
If I say "I love you" everyday,
does that make the words mean less.
If I say "I love you", once a year.
Does that make the words mean more.
How about I just say,
I love you.
Poem: A Soft Touch
" A Soft Touch "
A soft touch,
a gentle caress,
sends shivers down my spine.
It warms me,
and burns through me.
Lips around me,
covering me.
I let them take me inside.
Take me to heaven,
My turn to return the journey.
Travel to paradise.
A soft touch.
A soft touch,
a gentle caress,
sends shivers down my spine.
It warms me,
and burns through me.
Lips around me,
covering me.
I let them take me inside.
Take me to heaven,
My turn to return the journey.
Travel to paradise.
A soft touch.
Poem: What Is It About
" WHAT IS IT ABOUT "
What is it about sex.
That makes people crazy, lose all sense of reality.
What is it that drives us to sex.
But makes us confused and at times feel guilty,
feel inadequit, feel like we should be in shame.
It is beautiful, sex is.
It is magical, sex is.
It is what we should be.
What is it about sex.
That makes people crazy, lose all sense of reality.
What is it that drives us to sex.
But makes us confused and at times feel guilty,
feel inadequit, feel like we should be in shame.
It is beautiful, sex is.
It is magical, sex is.
It is what we should be.
Poem: Eyes
" Eyes "
Eyes, my god, what we can see in them
read in them.
They are the widows to what we hold inside.
You may laugh,
but your eyes say another thing.
You may show kindness,
but your eyes show the coldness held within.
Eyes, what magic they can display.
What mysteries they hide to show or keep away.
Eyes, my god, what we can see in them
read in them.
They are the widows to what we hold inside.
You may laugh,
but your eyes say another thing.
You may show kindness,
but your eyes show the coldness held within.
Eyes, what magic they can display.
What mysteries they hide to show or keep away.
Poem: We Dream
" We Dream "
Where do dreams come from?
Where do hopes begin?
We hope to dream of better days, better things.
We dream of hope not seen, not filled, not in our lives.
But we lose our self in life,
in the everyday monotone monotony.
We live, we dream.
We live and lose dreams, forgot them.
Is it good?
Is it the reality we seek?
Is there a better truth?
A new reality.
Why don't we stick to what is real,
what is true, what is factual and solid.
Yet we hope,
and yet we dream.
Will it come true, become real,
or not to be.
Where do dreams come from?
Where do hopes begin?
We hope to dream of better days, better things.
We dream of hope not seen, not filled, not in our lives.
But we lose our self in life,
in the everyday monotone monotony.
We live, we dream.
We live and lose dreams, forgot them.
Is it good?
Is it the reality we seek?
Is there a better truth?
A new reality.
Why don't we stick to what is real,
what is true, what is factual and solid.
Yet we hope,
and yet we dream.
Will it come true, become real,
or not to be.
Poem: Women
" Women "
Women, you just can not win.
You want a fuck,
and she wants a relationship.
You want a relationship,
and she wants sex or even worse to be friends.
But oh! they are so delicious,
so heavenly to feel, smell and taste.
So divine to be with, to be in.
In their warmth.
Women, you just can not win.
We men will always and forever lose.
We will always fall at their angelic feet.
Women, you just can not win.
You want a fuck,
and she wants a relationship.
You want a relationship,
and she wants sex or even worse to be friends.
But oh! they are so delicious,
so heavenly to feel, smell and taste.
So divine to be with, to be in.
In their warmth.
Women, you just can not win.
We men will always and forever lose.
We will always fall at their angelic feet.
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