Barbara's Creative Writing Blog: An AIDS/HIV Prayer
Barbara's Creative Writing Blog: An AIDS/HIV Prayer: "May you accept life for what it is, With all of its beauty And all of its faults. May you live your life to the fullest By taking the..."
An AIDS/HIV Prayer
May you accept life for what it is,
With all of its beauty
And all of its faults.
May you live your life to the fullest
By taking the time to appreciate the beauty and wonder
Of each moment.
May you forgive those who,
In their Ignorance
Shun you
And push you away.
May you find the love and support
You need
And deserve
From unexpected sources.
May there someday
No longer be
This disease we call
AIDS/HIV
And may that someday be soon.
With all of its beauty
And all of its faults.
May you live your life to the fullest
By taking the time to appreciate the beauty and wonder
Of each moment.
May you forgive those who,
In their Ignorance
Shun you
And push you away.
May you find the love and support
You need
And deserve
From unexpected sources.
May there someday
No longer be
This disease we call
AIDS/HIV
And may that someday be soon.
Barbara's Creative Writing Blog: Tour-Terrorist
Barbara's Creative Writing Blog: Tour-Terrorist: "“This land is your land, this land is my land from California to the New York Islands.” When did we lose this land? When did tourist bec..."
Tour-Terrorist
“This land is your land, this land is my land from California to the New York Islands.”
When did we lose this land?
When did tourist become synonymous with terrorist?
Wand my mother and her 5 lbs. stainless steel replacement knee.
Pat her down and feel her mastectomy.
Make us remove our shoes, our belts, our watches, and our jewelry.
Try to remove our dignity.
All the while, the real threat lies not in the skies but in the seas and under the streets.
Worry about the tankers spilling oil in the Gulf Stream.
Worry about the explosions of out of date and dangerous gas mains.
It’s only our land, our future, our lives.
When did we lose this land?
When did tourist become synonymous with terrorist?
Wand my mother and her 5 lbs. stainless steel replacement knee.
Pat her down and feel her mastectomy.
Make us remove our shoes, our belts, our watches, and our jewelry.
Try to remove our dignity.
All the while, the real threat lies not in the skies but in the seas and under the streets.
Worry about the tankers spilling oil in the Gulf Stream.
Worry about the explosions of out of date and dangerous gas mains.
It’s only our land, our future, our lives.
Names
So many names to be read.
Too many names, representing too much blood and too many tears shed
Names of soldiers, sailors, marines and guards.
Start building your tribute wall now,
You might be finished in a decade or two.
What are we fightin’ for?
Don’t ask the country we stopped giving a damn
About Iraq and Afghanistan.
Who cares when we’ve got the front page reserved for Lindsay Lohan?
Who cares about the men and women in uniform who’re serving, have died or been left behind?
So many names from so many places.
Names on a monument, quilt, or a wall, all screaming out not to be forgotten.
These names are all that is left and we can’t forget, we musn’t forget.
Too many names, representing too much blood and too many tears shed
Names of soldiers, sailors, marines and guards.
Start building your tribute wall now,
You might be finished in a decade or two.
What are we fightin’ for?
Don’t ask the country we stopped giving a damn
About Iraq and Afghanistan.
Who cares when we’ve got the front page reserved for Lindsay Lohan?
Who cares about the men and women in uniform who’re serving, have died or been left behind?
So many names from so many places.
Names on a monument, quilt, or a wall, all screaming out not to be forgotten.
These names are all that is left and we can’t forget, we musn’t forget.
Comarades in Arms
They're the first ones on their feet
to pay tribute to those who serve.
They were the first to serve
when their country called.
Known now only as dad, mom, grandpa or grandma.
To those who now serve they are forever.
Comrades in arms.
to pay tribute to those who serve.
They were the first to serve
when their country called.
Known now only as dad, mom, grandpa or grandma.
To those who now serve they are forever.
Comrades in arms.
Troubadours: by Barbara Burgess
Where have all the troubadours gone?
Gone to reality stars everyone.
Lyrics used to tell us what was happening in the world.
Now the big news is who's sleeping with whom.
Never mind the wars being fought
What's the most expensive thing that can be bought
It used to take talent to become a star
Now all you need is a video on You-tube for people to know who you are
Gone are the troubadours like John Stewart and Johnny Cash
Men who sing about the working class
Now people earn millions sitting on their ass
Rebel radio taken over by men in suits;
Why buy an entire album when you can buy just a song or two?
Come back again you troubadours. You rebel rousers who made us think and moved us to action. "When freedom of speech wasn't every four letter word a sailor never said."
Where have all the troubadours gone? Gone to graveyards most of them.
Gone to reality stars everyone.
Lyrics used to tell us what was happening in the world.
Now the big news is who's sleeping with whom.
Never mind the wars being fought
What's the most expensive thing that can be bought
It used to take talent to become a star
Now all you need is a video on You-tube for people to know who you are
Gone are the troubadours like John Stewart and Johnny Cash
Men who sing about the working class
Now people earn millions sitting on their ass
Rebel radio taken over by men in suits;
Why buy an entire album when you can buy just a song or two?
Come back again you troubadours. You rebel rousers who made us think and moved us to action. "When freedom of speech wasn't every four letter word a sailor never said."
Where have all the troubadours gone? Gone to graveyards most of them.
These Hands: A Poem by Barbara Burgess
These hands join in marriage.
These hands hold a newborn baby.
These hands raise in fear.
These hands fold in prayer.
These hands fight for freedom.
These hands fold the flag.
These hands hold a soldier's life.
These hands hold the hands of the ones whose life is slipping away.
These are the hands of a father, a son, a mother, a daughter.
These are the hands of an American soldier, sailor, marine and guard.
These hands hold a newborn baby.
These hands raise in fear.
These hands fold in prayer.
These hands fight for freedom.
These hands fold the flag.
These hands hold a soldier's life.
These hands hold the hands of the ones whose life is slipping away.
These are the hands of a father, a son, a mother, a daughter.
These are the hands of an American soldier, sailor, marine and guard.
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