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Thursday, November 27, 2014

What Is The Syrian Electronic Army?

Who are the SEA,
Who hacked the CBC,
Replacing the day's news with its logo?
An eagle, it seems to me.

They are a group of young Syrians whose,
Electronic Army,
Fight against the distorted facts spewed out,
By the press about their country's uprising.

They use the most modern of war's weapons,
Cyber propaganda,
Under the eye of the Assad regime,
Though they would deny that's their employa,

One day we'll see,
On screens across the world,
A virt'al battle of army logos.
May that replace the gore of missiles hurled.

Gomeshi Turns Himself In

So he's turned himself in,
Not guilty is his plea,
One hundred grand of bail in his pocket,
He can pay to be free,

Though he's missing the two for one bargain,
For time spent on remand,
If he's jailed for the hitting and choking,
He'll serve full time and lose the hundred grand!

He must have some confidence with Henein,
"Good as they get," I've scanned,
Defending a man by now convicted,
By public opinion.

If he's set free,
Will that prove everything?
Do the courts hold sway over the people's mind,
Like Ferguson and Michael Brown's shooting?

Wednesday, November 26, 2014


What will make you happy,
They say's not outside you,
It's in your pow'r to mold your perspective,
But not what's in your view,

Or rather, what is in your view may change,
You've no control o'er that,
'Cept in so far as you can live with it,
Even make it enjoyable, in fact.

For when you try to mold the world, it's hard,
Won't do what you want to,
There's too many factors, much you don't know,
And nil to do with you.

It's state of mind,
This thing called happiness,
Of course, this is a simplification,
Just ask those being tortured and repressed.

Monday, November 24, 2014

It's Already Been Said

There's so much created,
That speaks to not just you,
But too, not to everyone in the world,
Even to quite a few.

Whatever it is offends their senses,
That's what we all must get,
You can't please all the people all the time,
Oh, wait, that is a saying, isn't it?

But if we all just acknowledged that piece,
Won't we all also give,
That the best we can hope for in this world,
Is to live and let live?

That rings a bell!
Maybe school should just teach,
Every cliché ever written first,
'Fore showing the heights each student can reach.

Sunday, November 23, 2014

A Travesty of Justice

The grand jury is out,
Out to lunch, some might say,
Jamming the verdict of Darren Wilson,
And so justice's day,

Because they're aware that their decision,,
Which is let that cop go,
Who shot and killed Michael Brown, who was brown,
Will lead to mass protest from all who know,

That young, young Michael`s hands were up that night,
That he was not a threat,
Now the gov's taking this time to prepare,
For violence and riots.

That they will cause,
By the preparation,
For why would humans resort to such things,
If not faced with extreme situations?

What's Out There

There is just no value,
That I can see right now,
That one don't need dig to the depths of depths,
To be reminded how,

Whether you think we are different from beasts,
There's one diff'rence distinct,
We are not them and can't feel as they do,
Nor do we share anyway how they think.

But that is the same, even between them,
Just as it is 'tween us,
Left to mould our own world, the kinds would sure,
Be multitudinous.

For no one knows,
I mean no man or beast,
What is in the mind of anyone else,
Across land, air, outerspace or the seas.

Saturday, November 22, 2014

Please Complain

It's ok to complain,
This world just is not fair,
With all the expectations given you,
From the day you're dropped there.

No one likes listening to you say it,
They all think there's no hope,
They are determinists in their own way,
Like finding time to chase your dream's a joke,

That's why with your complaints you must make sure,
To show it can be done,
That it's possible to express yourself,
Without revolution.
Then they will see,
That free will's not a trope,
That complaining's a tool of the few ones,
Pulling society's tug-of-war rope.

Friday, November 21, 2014

In This Life

She has it, yet again,
Still her smile never fades,
Though one might argue it belies her pain,
It's a brave front she's made,

Or, she truly feels as she e'er declares,
At peace with her journey,
Just as we all strive for in our own life,
Though it is a state mislaid by many,

Feared for its undeniability,
It is filed as a cliché,
But in the end, all you have is yourself.
What will you think of you your final days?

No regrets, I'm sure,
After all, you'h'd one chance,
To find, then lose yourself, in what gives joy,
A guide for all who wake up in this dance.

Thursday, November 20, 2014

To Know

That's got six syllables,
First that I found in a list on the net.

It is not that I'm looking for a theme,
That's for readers to find,
Like the events of the world are random,
Until a paper is written with 'whys'.

But there is no reason things can't happen,
Like my son said, we can't trust her answers,
Talking about Siri.

'Cause she can't know,
That insects have feelings, for example,
She's hampered by human ability.