Poem: Manners

" Manners "


Social manners,
what are these?


Polite formulas to keep things balanced?
Consideration for others?
To create a homogenised beings?


Business manners,
are they really?


Or just ways to derive profit?
To polite ways to take your money?
To con, cheat, deceive?


Table manners,
Why have them?


Why not, just eat?
hands, fingers, feet.
It is the same, yes?
Once inside the tummy.


Manners,
who made them?


What if,
what if we did not have them?


What if then?




Syrbastyian (Amaya)

Poem: " Softlife "

" Softlife "

Here I sit smoking a cigarette,

on the other side people are sick.

I sit drinking wine,

there people lack even water to drink.

Sitting here,

sitting in my soft life.

People die for basic needs,

die not having, what I take for granted.

Do I truly feel this,

do I really see it.

No I do not,

not in my soft life.

Syrbastyian (Amaya)

Poem: Keep On Believing

"Keep On Believing"

Children keep on believing,
fly around the world tonight.

Children keep on dreaming,
recreating the world each night.

Children keep on imagining,
building castles in the sky.

Children keep on seeing things,
with your eyes filled of wonders tonight.

Children keep on being children,
the world needs your magical light.

Syrbastyian (Amaya) 

Poem: Do Nothing

"Do Nothing"

Millions cry,
yet we do nothing.

Millions can't see,
yet we do nothing.

Millions can't fill their bellies,
yet we don't do anything.

Millions are sick!
Millions DIE!

Yet we do Nothing Nothing and NOTHING.

Syrbastyian (Amaya) 

Poem: Changes

"Changes"

Changes, good or bad.
They happen,
they are in ways needed.

Changes,
needed, wanted or not.

They bring new things,
sometimes good, some not,
but its a part of life.

Changes are all the time.

We don't see them at times.

Think we, they stay the same,
but in everything there is change.

All things change.

Syrbastyian (Amaya) 

FOREWORD: Poem - " America Is Me "

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

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.

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.

Poems about Society and the World-Society

All these poems are about society. Mainly they express the negative points in society. For example the poem "Behind The Suit And Tie" talks about how we as a society rely on image/appearance to establish credibility. We see someone in business attire and we think that they must be a respectable person. But most of the worlds most evil people throughout history dressed and gave an image of respectability. Another poem "I Have A Dream" talks about how we are given/shown a path to improve our world but we do not take this opportunity because we feel it is too difficult or we really do not want to do it because we are satisfied with the status-quo. Other poems talk about how we are small minded and selfish or how we use religion or cultural differences to breed intolerance and at times hate. I hope you will enjoy these poems of mine and I hope that they make you think about your society on a local to an international scale. We may not have the power to do something about social problems but we all have the power to think, say and write something about society and it's problems. Here are the titles: "Behind the Suit & Tie", "I Have a Dream", "Not Understand", "Women", "Quick", "Age to Same", "All the Same", "Convicted by Society", "I Don't Want to Hear it", "The Undefeated Opponent", "Drowning", "White Trash", "In the Name of God" & "A Baby Cries". If you have any comments and/or questions, please feel free to add them. Syrbastyian

Poem: Behind The Suit And Tie

" Behind The Suit And Tie "

Mash the babies against the wall.

Watch the brains fall on the floor.

Feast on them with fork and straw.

Put the bodies in a blender.

Add some fruit and ice, and give it a whirl.

Baby fruit crush, tasty, what a treat.

Baby killer, Child murderer.

Behind the suit and tie.

Child's flesh, baby's blood.

For my sex, tender beautiful little boys and girls.

Money, candy and sometimes a lost puppy is all I need.

To the little innocent ones in the car with me.

And no one will notice cause I wear a suit and tie.

No one sees.

Look at me, Look at me.

I am a respectable man with my business suit on and briefcase in hand.

I love my family, I love my friends.

I love the little ones, mmm I love to play with them.

So be aware of those in suit and tie.

Cause you never just really know, who they are inside.

Behind the suit and tie.

By Syrbastyian Vzampfyier

Poem: I Have A Dream

" I Have A Dream "

I have a dream; poor Martin Luther King Junior.

I have a dream; yes a mighty good dream it is.

Pity because no one really wants it, everyone is actively fighting against it.

We mouth the words but how many of us really do something about it.

Most are satisfied with the status quo.

I have a dream; it is called oneness, togetherness.

But everyone want labels.

I am this, I am that and you are this, you are that.

We are this, we are that and they are this, they are that.

I am, you are, we are, they are.

I have a dream; No labels, no categories, no groups, no separatism.

Only oneness, togetherness and openness.

I have a dream; I hope for Martin's sake, for our sake.

I hope it will be.

By Syrbastyian Vzampfyier

Poem: Not Understand

" Not Understand "

When we do not understand, we go mute like dead fish.

When we do not understand, our minds slam shut like a vault door.

When we do not understand, we throw sticks and stones to chase it from their sight.

When we do not understand, we rant, rave and abuse to block the sound.

When we do not understand, we will not learn and we will not evolve.

When we do not understand, the seeds of hate grow into trees.

When we do not understand, friendship can never be and never flower.

In the end, when we do not understand killing is easier to complete.

Maybe we do not try to understand or maybe it is fear.

Maybe it is just human and our default reality.

When we do not understand, great evil becomes our history.

By Syrbastyian Vzampfyier

Poem: Women

" Women "

Why do they suffer us men.

Why do they suffer so.

The pain, the agony, the stress that we men bring.

That each time and each month that nature brings.

Men can not understand it.

Do not know it and can not feel it.

Can not even possibly imagine it.

I feel the reason is simple.

Women and nature are one and the same.

What nature is, women are.

Nature gives everything, gives it all.

It's beauty, worth, pleasures and magic.

And so women give and are the same.

Nature suffers our abuses, our destruction and our selfishness.

Nature bleeds for it, for life and for time.

And so women suffer the same.

Women the greatest of gifts and the magic of life.

And so nature is the same.

Without women we are nothing.

Without nature we all die.

And so without women it is the same.

By Syrbastyian Vzampfyier

Poem: Quick

" Quick "

Quick to judge, quick to call.

One quick glance and you know it all.

Quick to say, quick to state.

One quick thought and there is no mistake.

Quicker to hear, one word, a sentence.

And your quick to judge, think and say.

Your so quick, you haven't seen a thing.

Your so quick, you haven't heard a thing.

Your so quick, you do not really or even know.

Your so quick, you do not have the knowledge.

Your so quick, you miss all the information you need to think, judge and show.

What can you say or state.

Your so quick, you can not say a thing.

So quick, you will never never know.

By Syrbastyian Vzampfyier

Poem: Age To Same

" Aged To Same "

When I am ten and they are naught.

I am satan incarnate for wanting them.

When I am twenty and they are ten.

I am a monster and sick for wanting them.

When I am thirty and they are twenty.

I am considered dirty or lucky for wanting them.

When I am forty and they are thirty.

I am no longer dirty but still lucky for wanting them.

When I am fifty and they are forty.

This people say is nature for wanting them.

When I am sixty and they are fifty.

We are aged to same.

By Syrbastyian Vzampfyier

Poem: All The Same

" All The Same "

Am I unjust?

When I search myself.

Yes, injustice is there.

Am I prejudice?

I look at myself in the mirror.

Yes, I have judged before knowing.

So yes, it is there.

Am I sexist?

I ponder this.

Yes, I believe there are differences there.

Now the most difficult question.

Am I racist?

I journey deep within my self.

To discover hidden thoughts and feelings.

Yes, I have been.

Maybe I am or can be.

Am I different, unusual, strange and not like everybody else in the world?

No, I am not.

We are all the same.

By Syrbastyian Vzampfyier

Poem: Convicted By Society

" Convicted By Society "

I do not care for the convict who puts a nine-millimetre to an officers head.

Pulls the trigger, the jacket falls, brain dead.

I do not care for the convict who goes to gaol for their crimes.

I can see how society makes a person commit a crime.

Take a life, fight, looking for a fast track out of a bad time.

Pushed to the edge, societies rules are not mine.

Make my like and money in crime. Take what is rightly mine.

So send me to prison, send the police to take my life.

I have been and am the reject of society.

I am the other end of your social spectrum.

You can not deal with that, you can not deal with me.

While you whine about your white picket fences and petty little things.

I live and breed in your orphanages, reform schools, your prison and your lower class neighbourhoods, that is me.

You asked have I paid my debt to society. You say I must paid my debt to society.

Fuck you and your fucked up so called society.

Fuck the saviours, the protectors of moral conduct, the PTA, the FCC.

Fuck you social workers, teachers, self-righteous politicians and religious leaders on TV.

And fuck your law enforcement officers cause all they want to do is fuck me.

You do not see or understand me.

You just see the clothes, the colour of my skin, the way I wear my hair.

The fact that when I put my hands in my pockets there is no money in there.

But the is a gun, so fuck you and get them up in the air.

So I do not care about the convict who take a jacket's life.

Because the convict is me, that go your attention I see.

He did not even see me. I left him dead and bleeding.

Society has already caged me. Society always blames me.

Now I am not afraid. Now I have a gun.

Waiting for a bullet and then it will be done.

By Syrbastyian Vzampfyier

Poem: I Do Not Want to Hear It

" I Do Not Want To Hear It "

Daddy why is that man lying in the street.

Daddy he looks like he is about to die.

We have plenty of money, we can buy him something to eat.

Hush, now child, I do not want to hear it.

That man is lost to our life.

I do not want to hear it.

Now lets be on our way.

Just a conversation between a parent and child.

The child sees the pain of this man.

The parent just sees a pile dirty rags.

Does not want to hear the child's pleas to help.

There are millions and millions of homeless.

Homeless men, homeless women, homeless children.

Homeless families, homeless communities, homeless tribes.

And millions more just living on under the line.

Politicians, governments and corporations.

Do not want to hear it.

Ordinary people like you and me.

Do not to hear it.

And the famous just use it to increase their reputations.

Have we gone so far in society to block a senses.

Have we gone so far that I hearts are close to it.

We do not want to think about it.

We do not want to solve the problem.

We do not want to deal with it.

We can do something about it.

But I guess we do not want to hear it.

By Syrbastyian Vzampfyier

Poem: The Undefeated Opponent

" The Undefeated Opponent "

White is the night, the clouds have fallen down.

Four thousand hooves travelling under the ground.

The earth splits and opens its mouth, swallowing the surface.

Disaster is about.

Vacuum overfilled with an in rush of air.

Puts stress on the northern hemisphere.

Barometer readings falling in rapid degrees.

Sky opens up and everything concedes.

Stand on that spot just a little longer.

Take a look over your left shoulder.

Could you destroy all that you see.

Do you safe and protected, well not me.

Daylight growing shorter, nights getting colder.

Winter, brown leaves caught in a circular breeze.

But maybe no more winters.

It only takes a few degrees.

Volcanic eruptions throw fire in all directions.

Underwater eruptions, building walls of immense destruction.

They will come, will come crashing down.

Levelling what used to be mountains.

Stand on that spot just a little longer.

Take a look over your right shoulder.

Do you think we can destroy all that you see.

It will continue, even if we are not here to see.

We could eliminate a trillions species.

We could nuke all our cities.

But when it is all said and done.

Nature will continue, it has already won.

By Syrbastyian Vzampfyier

Poem: Drowning

" Drowning "

Everyone needs a little warmth.

A little touch of the heart.

To keep this world from tearing us apart.

We try to swim against the tide.

Stroking harder to remain topside.

Until a rip pulls you under and you hope that you will survive.

To feel the sun in day's light.

Living in the nineties.

Drowning in technology.

Our name and identity is just a number on some government computer file.

We try to escape in our music or our interests.

But we really escape or hide and nothing lasts long.

In the computer chip millennium.

Corporations rule the world.

Government and politicians are just paid company fools.

Compassion has no place you see.

Especially when your living on and under the poverty line.

Life has lost its value, did it ever have it, in our civilised money motivated societies.

Living in the nineties.

Drowning in toxicity.

Through industrial anarchy, killing the planet and the air we all must breathe.

Natural wonders and beauty culled to advance our self-inflicted realities.

Lying in a plastic coffin.

With all the victims of this mass homicide.

not is wrong with us, can't we see.

Looks like we are blind.

Well on to the step, self-inflicted genocide.

By Syrbastyian Vzampfyier