Saturday, March 6, 2010

Out of the jungle

Aung sang for what I was born with
--United colors of democracy
Her song still echoes through
the canopy of lofty inalienable rights.
--Rangoon understory absorbs blood
rich with vibrant young revolution.
Goddamn bitter.
The jungle throbs with throaty pulse
hiding lives abandoned by their own.
--I fought for nothing and am awarded
heaped on my lap, piles of freedom,
comfort in knowing martial law wont
apply to me, as other laws do not.
--How can I seal in an envelope
freedom, the excess, the surplus
at the end of the month i never used.
can i not pass it on? i must throw it
away unused, abused, refused.

I'm waiting for those millions
those souls to come out of the jungle
to light of day and comfort
with pride in their beautiful country.
Hold those hands of those children
who watched humans become animal,
sing them to sleep with sweet words.
Continue to seek their future,
continue to seek your past.

Scream your strife at the top of your lungs
until others around you know of your present.

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