|Posted by Igor Marinovsky on November 22, 2012 at 2:35 PM||comments (0)|
If I could...
I would make a shelter
with the help of my words
for thousands homeless desperate people.
I would feed millions of the hungry
with the warmth of my soul.
If I could...
|Posted by Igor Marinovsky on March 11, 2012 at 7:45 AM||comments (0)|
Two little doves
snuggle to each other
on the bitter cold.
|Posted by Andy Scott on January 6, 2012 at 1:35 PM||comments (0)|
I have walked this route for sixty seven years.
So much has changed along here through time.
Advancement of life is what the younger ones say,
great grand children always trying to teach and show new things.
I am good with the knowledge I have been given,
at my age there is only so much more room in the mind.
I am reminded each day where I learned and saw the most.
It is now a museum for people to see what others want them to see,
land has been cleaned up and a shine put to it.
A presentation that truly was not there before.
I have only gone inside the new walls of the camp once
and watched the looks of people as they mulled around on the tour.
I remember being herded in a different way,
pushed, beaten and yelled at profanely,
stepping over bodies that could not keep the pace,
hearing the skin rip and bones crack under our toes.
What is now a cement trail was once sloppy mud
that used to cover and run up our only outfits.
Clothes that hung from our skinny frames
from working fields without food.
My stomach has not been able to have
what they call a proper meal since.
I wondered often when I walked through
if the people knew what was on the brown patches of grass.
That it was once used to bonfire the bodies of prisoners,
that their ashes are scattered all around us.
The smell of a fire still makes me nauseated.
I have never told my family why this is,
allergies they assumed.
Maybe every day I walk by as a humble reminder
of when my mind stopped wanting tosee.
Never understood why we were retained
and my father never said, even after we were freed.
He never smiled after that is all I know.
To this day that is all I wanted to not know,
instead of living, walking it for my remaining time.
January 5, 2012
© Andrew Scott – Just a Maritime Boy2012
|Posted by Andy Scott on December 20, 2011 at 7:50 PM||comments (0)|
Following there, the mistral sings.
Being lead by guided death’s strings
When I walk my designed steep hill
is it my thought? Is it my will?
Am I ready for what it brings?
This hills climb gives the spirit springs.
Body has feeling of kings,
enough to overcome life’s ills.
At times so powerless it stings.
This journey through the endless rings.
Outsiders tinkering for thrill.
Destiny written by fate’s quill.
Just pray guided pure, strong wings.
December 20, 2011
© Andrew Scott – Just a Maritime Boy 2011
Tell ICE Director John Morton: Abolish Government Sanctioned Stealing???In the Name of the Law???Summary Judgment By Carla B. Boone (Contact)
|Posted by Jill Delbridge on December 17, 2011 at 12:20 PM||comments (0)|
To be delivered to: John Morton, Director
Copyright Infringement is frequently viewed as the politically correct term for theft! If an artist is contemplating stealing one’s intellectual property (potentially millions/billions of dollars in revenue) and is faced with the following odds: a) a 100% chance of winning that case* or b) a 96% chance of never facing an unbiased jury of the Plaintiff’s peers*, what incentive is there for that potential perpetrator not to engage in the alleged illegal activity?
The Summary Judgment process used to dispose of Copyright Infringement cases has been documented by learned scholars** to be Inefficient, Unjust, Unfair and Unconstitutional!. Thus, tax paying, law abiding citizens are systematically being denied their Seventh Amendment Constitutional right to an unbiased jury trial of their peers.
The government’s continued support of this Unconstitutional practice must end! We are calling for
• an Independent review of all Copyright cases dismissed in the last 20 years
• placement of all cases wrongfully dismissed back onto the courts’ dockets and
• the Abolishment of the Summary Judgment process in copyright cases as mandated by the High Court
Tell the Director of Intellectual Property Enforcement that our Constitutional rights can no longer be subjectively and selectively enforced…
We respectfully demand….
“Justice for All!”
Boone v. Jackson et. al
Hudson v. Universal
Walker v. Viacom et. al
Lassiter v. 20th Century Fox, et. al
Carranza v. Universal et. al
The Seventh Amendment right to an unbiased jury trial is as important as a citizen's right to vote. Yet, everyday working class citizens are denied this right when they level allegations of theft of their intellectual property against multimillionaire defendants.
Government protection of the 99%, at our expense will no longer be tolerated!
We need 50 signatures
There are currently 2 signatures
|Posted by Andy Scott on December 10, 2011 at 4:30 AM||comments (0)|
In the morning I grab a coffee,
take a peak at the morning news,
only to wake and see
it is not only the life you choose.
I do not even know if I want to get up,
even to get my second cup.
Maybe it is my little quirk
but every day I take the same way to work.
A car accident is what I got to witness.
A little girl looks in sadness.
The father she holds on a pedestal
may not make it to the hospital.
I work beside a fellow by the name of Bob.
This is his twenty fifth year on the job,
never will he be a supervisor,
let alone get his division transfer.
You see he is an independent soul
and that is how he has dug his hole.
I get home to eat my supper
with a drink and the daily paper,
reading the news of the day
about others and their hard way,
across the world in another place.
Thankfully I do not have to see their face.
At night I climb into bed,
thinking about things left unsaid.
Trying to deal with every day tragedy.
You can only be as strong as you can be
and like every night I held my head as I cried.
Today, like everyday, another piece of me died.
©Andrew Scott – Just a Maritime Boy 1998
|Posted by Andy Scott on December 1, 2011 at 4:50 PM||comments (0)|
Sitting here, smelling the clear air,
deep in though with myself.
Seeing out of the corner of my eye
the conflict between son and elder.
How times have changed though the years,
traditions and respect for our elders have been lost,
the words and foundation of family,
as the older generation is locked away,
forgotten as we age with our worries.
Younger generations mistreated,
misunderstanding their freedom we created.
The family tree is falling before us,
thoughts turn to the strength of yesteryear’s foundation.
Did we ask for this disrespect in today’s world?
What would Confucius say?
Watching taunts by the insecure,
pointing, teasing anyone that is different.
We are told everyone is equal,
yet segregation of all still exists,
judgement comes from those who do not look,
properly embracing the strengths in all,
not beating weaknesses that we give
or give to make our own shortcomings hidden,
cradling differences and becoming unified
instead of spreading the divided line.
Confused by what is seen and heard.
What would Helen say?
Bombs of disaster litter the landscape,
striking without tolerance,
just adding to the path of take.
Differences in culture raises fists,
making houses fall in flames,
reaching out from the ashes,
of the ignorance tyranny of domination.
Conquerors of bare mountain tops,
barons that do not hear cries of peace,
stomping those that sit without resistance,
to take the abuse of the eyes of want.
Looking at the disaster that was created.
What would Mohandas say?
I sit and see it all crumbing down.
Instead of embracing all of our differences,
they are dividing us all.
We are looking at colours and religion
to decide who we detest.
Instead of closing our eyes of judgement,
we use it to show our own disabilities.
I know, as I sit here looking out, changes starts here.
I wonder as I look at this fixable world.
What would Confucius, Helen Keller, or Mohandas Gandhi say?
December 1, 2011
© Andrew Scott – Just a Maritime Boy
|Posted by Georgia on December 1, 2011 at 3:40 PM||comments (0)|
I'm the editor of New Mirage Journal. I'm looking for submissions of poetry and poetry book reviews!!!! Please submit three poems and a bio or a book review to:[email protected] and please visit us at: http://newmiragejournal.com. ; My deadline has been extended to Dec. 15, 2011.
Georgia Ann Banks-Martin
|Posted by Andy Scott on November 21, 2011 at 4:05 PM||comments (0)|
Today, she is twenty-five and sitting at a bar,
Lonely wonders how long it took to get this far,
on her day of celebration,
Lonely’s mind is full of confusion,
her aggressive partner sits across from her,
with sadness, she wonders why they are together,
when they get home, he will wither pass out,
or get abusive with a loser’s shout,
cigarette by cigarette, drink by drink,
her mind starts to wonder, it is time to think,
she dreams of a better time and place,
a pure smile comes over her face,
a dream of playing footsies with someone in a stream,
playing out scenes in everyone’s romantic dream,
picturing,in someone else’s arms, a slow dance,
a twinkle in her eye from his first glance,
the whole magical evening, a touch of class,
envy from onlookers that pass,
a passerby breaks Lonely from her haze,
such thoughts are just a phase,
she thinks things like that do not happen,
if it did she would not know where to begin,
for now, Lonely will just hold the hand of the person there,
and rely on herself for tender care,
tonight when he lies beside her,
she will wonder if this will last forever,
dreams of another possibility,
Until then,she will hold herself, being lonely.
© AndrewScott – Just a Maritime Boy 1999
|Posted by David Foyle on October 29, 2011 at 8:20 AM||comments (0)|
Close your eyes and envision with me, a world of parallel beauty and significance to this one and imagine the antipodes of this world colliding with the next and the trinity of reality mixing with a dream and the essence of pure imagination. It is the division of humanity against spirituality and the knowledge that all of these forces are divided within the boundaries of the one universal truth, that it is natural life, that it is omnipresent and ubiquitous, existing inside of everything and that it is the vital force within you, the same as it is within me. Close your eyes and use only your imagination to see clearly the purple mountains ahead in the distance, the tangerine atmosphere at the horizon behind you and the bright red sun lowering itself slowly into the depths of a shimmering teal ocean. Envision with me the slow contrast inside the first few moments of the quiet twilight and let your view of this wilderness inside your mind raise its glance upward from the distant horizon and see how the transition from light into dark captivates your attention and then the contrast that appears as it changes gradually from lilac on to dark jasmine then journeys into purple then every shade imaginable from light aqua blue into royal blue then darker still until your eye catches a solitaire in the night sky, the very first star in the night and it is shining only for you. Now envision with me the white sand dunes of the unlimited desert that runs parallel with the ocean’s abundant stream to your right, and envision with me, when we turn towards the left, we become aware of the lush dark green of the tall trees of the forest canopy, towering above everything else in this wilderness of ours that we both create, imagine and observe simultaneously with unique precision and strange accuracy. Close your eyes and envision with me how each of these compete for our attention; the fire in the sky lowering itself into the depths of the teal ocean, quenching its magnificent thirst, and how the desert drinks the pristine ocean with abundance enough to eliminate all visible signs of life and how its adversary, the tropical rainforest thrives beside it regardless, spawning the miracle of life and of pure wonder and amazement, and how those purple mountains ahead in the distance are the dust of the desert and the fruit of the forest forming the earth, that rises against the slow crush of the tides and how the sun setting in the west is of no more beauty or intrinsic value than that diamond star in the night sky, and that they are merely the same sun, only viewed from a greater distance. Close your eyes and envision with me the bright full bodied moon lingering just above the highest crest in the mountain range and that I am standing beside you, and both of us together are entering the same dream and we are standing upon the very axis where all of these naturally beautiful entities compete ceaselessly in an infinite world, a place where day and night exist in the same place and at the same time, a place where all the forms of life are present, including ourselves because not only are we at the centre of this world, we are creating it as each moment slowly passes us by. We form the idea based upon a reaction to that which we have already experienced inside a past life or during this life or perhaps even the next. Close your eyes and envision with me what it would mean to lose all of this in the blink of an eye, and that we are the true essence of all these things combined, slowly transformed over time, and that we are nature viewing nature, that we are stardust contemplating stardust, that we are both humanity and alien life simultaneously, that we create this world based upon the truth colliding with imagination, that we are both separate and one entity surviving in the same world that we both create and destroy based upon an idea that is born solely out of these pristine moments. Close your eyes and open your mind to the truth that awaits you. Close your eyes and become anything that you desire to be. Close your eyes and wipe away the tears from the past and realize that one step forward in any direction is only one solitary footprint in the history of humanity. Close your eyes and envision with me that one, single sweet breath can give life to the world that we create and make those mountains ahead in the distance rise and fall according to will, that one word whispered softly can make the trees of the forest sway and move ceaselessly and that one wish can create the white crash of the ocean’s waves or the slow movements of the strong tides, that one single desire can make the desert sands begin to shuffle and form more dunes from its swirling dust clouds. Close your eyes and envision with me what it means to enter a wonderful dream while you are still awake, what this world would be like if you did not bring it to life with one single breath, that you can visit this place as many times as you so desire because it is you and you alone that creates it, and that it would cease to exist if you could not imagine it there, right in front of you whenever you closed your eyes and begin to believe that such a place in time could really exist. Close your eyes and envision with me the power of your own unique and limitless imagination, and the creativity that you possess, that when we move towards the mountains, you will begin to see that they have been carved into magnificent cities, imbedded into the stone with staircases, columns, arcs, terraces and they form the cities through which all humanity must pass through on their journey into life. That, when we move towards the forest you begin to sense a billion eyes peering out at you, hidden and thriving beneath the lush green canopy of the trees. That, when we move towards the ocean, you will begin to understand the abundance of life that swims and exists beneath its shimmering, pristine surface. That, if we move towards the desert sands, you would begin to understand the nature of the spirit that dwells there within, and how it shifts along with every breath of life that you give it, and you will begin to understand that there is still life present where nothing that is alive could possibly exist. Close your eyes and envision with me that this is only the first few moments of a dream, and I am here beside you, and we are alive together, experiencing the same wilderness, entering the same dream, at the same time, in the same place, while the rest of the world and reality as we know it awaits us when we finally awaken from this magical paradise we call our dreams.
|Posted by Andy Scott on October 27, 2011 at 6:30 PM||comments (0)|
Jamie was a fifteen year old boy,
just like all other teenagers,
life and the future ahead of him.
Jamie was to face it with a smiling face,
same smile he had for everyone.
Jamie had potential that was limitless,
energizing personality that shared with most,
participation in new school clubs,
singing and dancing that brought beaming faces.
Jamie is dead,
pushed by others hands of confused hate,
taunted for knowing who Jamie was,
and for him wearing it with pride,
beaten and bullied into lonely depression,
by others not comfortable in their own shell,
while Jamie knew whose hand he wanted to hold.
Parents that reinforced to keep him strong,
baffled about hate like this in today’s world,
the kind that can only be taught,
handed down from the generations,
knowing those hands of hatred,
will not stop until another Jamie is found.
© Andrew Scott – Just a MaritimeBoy 2011