Cats, Flowers, Fashion Photography by Brave Flame Productions

                                                  Anita Ferrer/Asbury Park Angel Poetry

 

                                    

Siren Song in the JungleMarch 22, 2007 3:30 am

Concrete playground,

with no sound

all around,

because the voices have gone numb,

and the the blind, deaf and dumb

are the CEO's and the priests and the cops

and no one wants to stop

the machine,

to come clean.

so i whine as my spine

becomes spllintered

from the wear and the tear

of the glare..

of the blinding fun

of the crowds,

shouting loud,

to be heard for their lies.

They're just spies

seeking thunder

to plunder

the weak,

who can't speak.

but i will not smother...

the other

who has nothing,

and no one.

the massess will squander,

and wander,

get louder

and prouder

and the forest will echo with laughter

for ever after...

with evil.

But my voice will be heard,

like a bird

in the night

when the lights

go out....

 

BAND-AID

 There is a hole in every human soul,

which must be filled.

Some are small,

but others are massive,

a core wound unhealed and left to bleed.

Some find their healing,

if only for a while,

in addictions,

and some struggle to perfect themselves

through diligent study or creativity.

Success and fulfillment is the goal.

Sometimes most get it,

but often,

many are starved by loss,

disappointment and

the dying of their dreams.

Understand me,

cries the person,

(and the whole human race).

Cherish me,

cries the little child to his parents.

Respect me,

pounts the grown adult

who has never found solace in any human.

Many have been, the forgotten and unworthy.

He has been ignored and passed over,

like an inviisble man or a leper.

Jesus Christ and Mother Teresa

healed by an exalted compassion.

yet philosophers, artists and shrinks

vow that their formula of philanthropic thinking and therapy

is the cure.

Well...let's get real, now...

countless trudge their way through life,

living, hopeless, desperate existances and.

dragging severed, bleeding limbs from one vain destiny to the next.

Poor souls!

dying daily..

without a cure: a kind word. arms of love surrounding them.

Hopeless, desperate.

We have all been there? Or have we?

Religion and church has not healed.

neither the Bible...

healing is not all about hope from the distant legacy of the faith of the Bible.

but by God's loving hand through humans

and by God's loving heart through our compassion.

through acceptance and cherishing love

There will be no healing of the human race unless we understand this.

Wive's will continue to be beaten to death by their raging, hurting husbands,

children will continue to be abused and abandonemnt, (pedophilism rages).

and rape will continue to appease some long-forgotten injustice in a an angry man.

And babies will be murdered in the womb by the excuse of inconvenience.

Until then,

I do the best I can to aleviate someone's pain or lack,

while I myself try to nurse my own gaping wound.

I throw myself into another creative endeavor: my temporary band-aid.

I've learned and seen that great healings of broken souls,

happened by continual loving, compassionate support and respect. .

Without these, all is lost

And so I wait...

"Jesus, i wait to join you in heaven

for there will i be understood,

and there with I be cherished."

 

NOTHING REALLY MATTERS

Milliions of stars shining.

Gifted people trying to make their mark,

Fifteen minutes of fame,

aspiring people trying to make their name.

In the mad scheme of life

We get lost in the maze of confusion

And a wonderful Father waiting to hold

Yearning to hear our voices and

Trying to save us from our delusions.

Scurrying around like squirrels in a frenzy

Hoarding tangible treasures:

Careers, degrees, bank accounts, possessions,

Clutching loved ones, pets and dreams

 

 

Some die, some wait until the end with empty hearts

…and then

 

Some stand in shame, some shock and some joy.

Because in the end…

NOTHING REALLY MATTERED