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Passions in Poetry


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since 06-15-99
Posts 2

0 posted 06-15-99 08:57 PM       View Profile for studio8   Email studio8   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for studio8

If you're reading this poem and think you've seen it before posted by doreen, you are absolutely right. Studio8 is just a pen name I use occasionally. I had posted this under that name and since it got 0 responses, I reposted it under my own name to see if anybody would respond. Now, all of a sudden, this first post by studio8 has resurfaced. So.... sorry if you got bored twice. (hehehe)

Freedom (by doreen peri)

Freedom is not wearin' shoes in the summer
so the grass rides you like a carpet
step by step and
you can pick a job
and go do it and they pay you
and everything --
and because you did a good damn job,
better than somebody else,
you could make even more
and save up to buy somethin' special,
not just being handed out bread 'n' milk
in a line somewhere --
Yeah, that's what freedom is
bein' able to say somethin'
nasty 'bout the President
if you want
and everybody laughs and
you don't get locked up
or anything.
Freedom is blues music
wailin' from an old guitar
and a 70 year old guy
stompin' his boots and
singin' loud about cornbread
and pickin' cotton when
he was a kid
but now he don't have to
'cause he's free, man,
and nobody's got 'im in
no chains
no more
and not only that,
he can vote
and he sings about that too
while blowin' on his harmonica,
all God's children there to hear.

Freedom is listenin' to whatever
music you like whenever you want
t' hear it without havin' your mama
say, "Turn that thing down, it's
bustin' my ear drums" and you
got your own refrigerator and
you can put cheese sandwiches
and sodas in there and nothin' else
if you want and nobody's tellin' you
to eat more salads, 'cause you're
all grown up and went to college
and everything
and got a job and moved away
from home so you could go
wherever you want whenever
you wanna go there
and live in a mansion if you save
enough dough
and learn to speak Spanish,
draw with colored pencil,
play the piano,
dig a garden,
get a degree in physics,
whatever you wanna do
because your free,
ain't that great?

Freedom is not havin' to worry
'bout some guys with guns comin'
to your door and kickin' you and the kids
out o' the house, your family runnin'
scared, you hiding in a bush
so the bad man don't rape you
then, lost, marchin' in a line
to a border you can't get over,
'cause that ain't freedom,
that's just plain reality
in some parts,
thank God not here.

Freedom is
nobody's keepin' you down,
praise God or Allah or
Jesus or Buddha or
whoever the hell you
wanna praise,
or even scream from the rooftops,
"I don't believe in nothin'!'"
because nobody's
gonna stop you!
Yeah, that's what freedom is--
dancin' with the moon,
nobody tellin' you it's
time for bed.

[This message has been edited by studio8 (edited 06-27-99).]

[This message has been edited by studio8 (edited 06-27-99).]
© Copyright 1999 studio8 - All Rights Reserved
since 06-15-99
Posts 325

1 posted 06-27-99 01:56 PM       View Profile for Genea   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for Genea

freedom is a right for some, a privilege for others and a dream for too many.
studio8 will be notified of replies
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