From+Thursday's+Class

Say Yes by Andrea Gibson

when two violins are placed in a room if a chord on one violin is struck the other violin will sound the note if this is your definition of hope this is for you the ones who know how powerful we are who know we can sound the music in the people around us simply by playing our own strings for the ones who sing life into broken wings open their chests and offer their breath as wind on a still day when nothing seems to be moving spare those intent on proving god is dead for you when your fingers are red from clutching your heart so it will beat faster for the time you mastered the art of giving yourself for the sake of someone else for the ones who have felt what it is to crush the lies and lift truth so high the steeples bow to the sky this is for you this is also for the people who wake early to watch flowers bloom who notice the moon at noon on a day when the world has slapped them in the face with its lack of light for the mothers who feed their children first and thirst for nothing when they’re full

this is for women and for the men who taught me only women bleed with the moon but there are men who cry when women bleed men who bleed from women’s wounds and this is for that moon on the nights she seems hung by a noose for the people who cut her loose and for the people still waiting for the rope to burn about to learn they have scissors in their hands

this is for the man who showed me the hardest thing about having nothing is having nothing to give who said the only reason to live is to give ourselves away so this is for the day we’ll quit or jobs and work for something real we’ll feel for sunshine in the shadows look for sunrays in the shade this is for the people who rattle the cage that slave wage built and for the ones who didn’t know the filth until tonight but right now are beginning songs that sound something like people turning their porch lights on and calling the homeless back home

this is for all the shit we own and for the day we’ll learn how much we have when we learn to give that shit away this is for doubt becoming faith for falling from grace and climbing back up for trading our silver platters for something that matters like the gold that shines from our hands when we hold each other

this is for the grandmother who walked a thousand miles on broken glass to find that single patch of grass to plant a family tree where the fruit would grow to laugh for the ones who know the math of war has always been subtraction so they live like an action of addition for you when you give like every star is wishing on you and for the people still wishing on stars this is for you too

this is for the times you went through hell so someone else wouldn’t have to for the time you taught a 14 year old girl she was powerful this is for the time you taught a 14 year old boy he was beautiful for the radical anarchist asking a republican to dance cause what’s the chance of everyone moving from right to left if the only moves they see are NBC and CBS this is for the no becoming yes for scars becoming breath for saying i love you to people who will never say it to us for scraping away the rust and remembering how to shine for the dime you gave away when you didn’t have a penny for the many beautiful things we do for every song we’ve ever sung for refusing to believe in miracles because miracles are the impossible coming true and everything is possible

this is for the possibility that guides us and for the possibilities still waiting to sing and spread their wings inside us cause tonight saturn is on his knees proposing with all of his ten thousand rings that whatever song we’ve been singing we sing even more the world needs us right now more than it ever has before pull all your strings play every chord if you’re writing letters to the prisoners start tearing down the bars if you’re handing our flashlights in the dark start handing our stars never go a second hushing the percussion of your heart play loud play like you know the clouds have left too many people cold and broken and you’re their last chance for sun play like there’s no time for hoping brighter days will come play like the apocalypse is only 4…3…2 but you have a drum in your chest that could save us you have a song like a breath that could raise us like the sunrise into a dark sky that cries to be blue play like you know we won’t survive if you don’t but we will if you do play like saturn is on his knees proposing with all of his ten thousand rings that we give every single breath this is for saying-yes

this is for saying-yes

Poem by activist poet Andrea Gibson

Greyson's Poem **A human Solution**

This world belongs To you and I The oceans, seas Lands and sky

So why do people Seek to destroy This very planet We’re supposed to enjoy

With greenhouse gases And high pollution It is only we humans That has the solution

So start with your rubbish Try and recycle it And at least you’ll know You are helping a bit

And in case you decide To give it a miss Go out in the garden And try to do this

Take a deep breath Lay on the grass Look up at the sky And watch the clouds pass

This is the earth And there is only one So let’s try and maintain it For generations to come

By James

Mercedes benz by Janis Joplin, posted on here by david

Oh Lord, won't you buy me a Mercedes Benz ? My friends all drive Porsches, I must make amends. Worked hard all my lifetime, no help from my friends, So Lord, won't you buy me a Mercedes Benz ?

Oh Lord, won't you buy me a color TV ? Dialing For Dollars is trying to find me. I wait for delivery each day until three, So oh Lord, won't you buy me a color TV ?

Oh Lord, won't you buy me a night on the town ? I'm counting on you, Lord, please don't let me down. Prove that you love me and buy the next round, Oh Lord, won't you buy me a night on the town ?

Everybody! Oh Lord, won't you buy me a Mercedes Benz ? My friends all drive Porsches, I must make amends, Worked hard all my lifetime, no help from my friends, So oh Lord, won't you buy me a Mercedes Benz ?

That's it!

Oh Lord, won't you buy me a Mercedes Benz ? My friends all drive Porsches, I must make amends. Worked hard all my lifetime, no help from my friends, So Lord, won't you buy me a Mercedes Benz ?

Oh Lord, won't you buy me a color TV ? Dialing For Dollars is trying to find me. I wait for delivery each day until three, So oh Lord, won't you buy me a color TV ?

Oh Lord, won't you buy me a night on the town ? I'm counting on you, Lord, please don't let me down. Prove that you love me and buy the next round, Oh Lord, won't you buy me a night on the town ?

Everybody! Oh Lord, won't you buy me a Mercedes Benz ? My friends all drive Porsches, I must make amends, Worked hard all my lifetime, no help from my friends, So oh Lord, won't you buy me a Mercedes Benz ?

That's it!

by WantNoMeat@aol.com**
 * Activist's Pledge

Until the last flesh is consumed and no more animals are born to doom Our struggle is beside the weak respect for life is what we seek Until the last is forced to entertain and no more animals are driven insane For all those beaten to a cower we lend our strength and our power Until the last suffers in a cruel test and scientific fraud is finally confessed To those voiceless we give them word until their agonizing cries are heard Until the last dead skin is worn and for our usage no animal is born Relentless battles we must fight until all others see compassion's light Until the last abuse has ceased and existence is granted to every beast We won't abandon or give in because this war we intend to win


 * Holocaust**
 * Anonymous**

Their faces remain blurs Their stories untold There pain never ending Yet the HOLOCAUST goes on Without a second thought or a single tear shed Is the world this naive? I THINK NOT! The inadvertent killers turn their heads the other way They accept what their ancestors have done They don't want to change their savage urges The world changes all around them Only one thing remains the same The murder of the innocent The murder of the voiceless The murder of ANIMALS

"**__Crayons__" By Deb Plasants - Posted by Sarah** [|**More:**] I have a set of crayons That I purchased for my son. They're called People Color Crayons, With more choices than just one.

And when I look at these crayons I can't help but imagine how Our country would be so much better

With more choices than we have now.

The term black, which is often used Simply does not apply. Instead I'd rather call myself fawn, While I look you in the eye.

My husband who is told he's white Can freely declare to you That he's actually the color melon Something not many people knew.

Our handsome and intelligent son Could then stand up and boast That he's proud his skin color looks More like a slice of toast.

Now imagine our new way of thinking Extended well beyond us three To every man, woman and child How liberating that would be.

Some might say they're peach or maize Others sable, spice or taupe. With so many colors we quickly learn Our titles are too narrow in scope.

Now imagine our government leaders Forced to finally hear our cry Must publicly admit to everyone That race was just a lie.

It was created by our fore-fathers To justify their greed And plagues our nation to this day Oppressing those in need.

Our nationwide protest means We no longer follow the norm Of being lumped in obsolete categories On a government census form.

No longer trapped in little boxes We see each other as peers. Instead of letting a thin layer of pigment Dictate all of our fears.

Can a simple pack of crayons Help create a better country? I believe a change can happen And I'll have it begin with me.

Guys Do it All the Time by Mindy McCready--- posted by Molly

Got in this morning at 4 AM Your as mad as you can be Well I was drinking and talking And you know how that goes Time just slipped away from me By the time I knew what time it was It was to late to call home Stop carrying on and acting like a child I wasn't doing anything wrong

Guys do it all the time And you expect us to understand When the shoe's on the other foot You know that's when it hits the fan Get over it honey life's a two way street Or you won't be a man of mine So I had some beers with the girls last night Guys do it all the time

I know I left my clothes all over the place And I took your twenty bucks No I didn't get the front yard cut Cause I had to wash my truck Will you bring me a cold one baby Turn on the TV We'll talk about this later There's a ballgame I wanna see

Guys do it all the time And you expect us to understand When the shoe's on the other foot You know that's when it hits the fan Get over it honey life's a two way street Or you won't be a man of mine So I had some beers with the girls last night Guys do it all the time

You look like you just took A long look in the mirror Tell me baby if things don't look A whole lot clearer, ooh

Get over it honey life's a two way street Or you won't be a man of mine So I had some beers with the girls last night Guys do it all the time Yeah guys do it Yeah guys do it All the time, all the time Yeah guys do it Yeah guys do it All the time

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aJHkBQO6orc

Forgotten Language by Shel Silverstein -posted by Andrés

Once I spoke the language of the flowers, Once I understood each word the caterpillar said, Once I smiled in secret at the gossip of the starlings, And shared a conversation with the housefly in my bed. Once I heard and answered all the questions of the crickets, And joined the crying of each falling dying flake of snow, Once I spoke the language of the flowers. . . . How did it go? How did it go?

Blue Blanket Andrea Gibson (Brigid) still there are days when there is no way not even a chance that i'd dare for even a second glance at the reflection of my body in the mirror and she knows why like i know why she only cries when she feels like she's about to lose control she knows how much control is worth knows what a woman can lose when her power to move is taken away by a grip so thick with hate it could clip the wings of god leave the next eight generations of your blood shaking and tonight something inside me is breaking my heart beating so deep beneath the sheets of her pain i could give every tear she's crying a year---a name and a face i'd forever erase from her mind if i could just like she would for me or you but how much closer to free would any of us be if even a few of us forgot what too many women in this world cannot and i'm thinking what the hell would you tell your daughter your someday daughter when you'd have to hold her beautiful face to the beat up face of this place that hasn't learned the meaning of stop what would you tell your daughter of the womb raped empty the eyes swollen shut the gut too frightened to hold food the thousands upon thousands of bodies used and abused it was seven minutes of the worst kind of hell seven and she stopped believing in heaven distrust became her law fear her bible the only chance of survival don't trust any of them bolt the doors to your home iron gate your windows walking to your car alone get the keys in the lock please please please please open like already you can feel that five fingered noose around your neck two hundred pounds of hatred digging graves into the sacred soil of your flesh please please please please open already you're choking for your breath listening for the broken record of the defense answer the question answer the question answer the question miss why am i on trial for this would you talk to your daughter your sister your mother like this i am generations of daughters sisters mothers our bodies battlefields war grounds beneath the weapons of your brother's hands do you know they've found land mines in broken women's souls black holes in the parts of their hearts that once sang symphonies of creation bright as the light on infinity's halo she says i remember the way love used to glow like glitter on my skin before he made his way in now every touch feels like a sin that could crucify medusa kali oshun mary bury me in a blue blanket so their god doesn't know i'm a girl cut off my curls i want peace when i'm dead her friend knocks at the door it's been three weeks don't you think it's time you got out of bed no the ceiling fan still feels like his breath i think i need just a couple more days of rest please bruises on her knees from praying to forget she's heard stories of vietnam vets who can still feel the tingling of their amputated limbs she's wondering how many women are walking around this world feeling the tingling of their amputated wings remembering what it was to fly to sing tonight she's not wondering what she would tell her daughter she knows what she would tell her daughter she'd ask her what gods do you believe in i'll build you a temple of mirrors so you can see them! pick the brightest star you've ever wished on i'll show you the light in you that made that wish come true! tonight she's not asking you what you would tell your daughter she's life deep in the hell---the slaughter has already died a thousand deaths with every unsteady breath a thousand graves in every pore of her flesh and she knows the war's not over knows there's bleeding to come knows she's far from the only woman or girl trusting this world no more than the hands trust rusted barbed wire she was whole before that night believed in heaven before that night and she's not the only one she knows she won't be the only one she's not asking what you're gonna tell your daughter she asking what you're gonna teach your son

posted by ifeanyi, (im not sur if Lupe wrote this or not but it was on his album and the artist says "uncredited female rapper" so..)

[uncredited female rapper:] Food and liquor stores rest on every corner From 45th and State to the last standin hymn nuhana J&J's, pale chicken, good finger lickin While they sin, gin, sin sin at Rothschild and Lynnwood Liquors The winos crooked stagger meets the high stride of the youth searchin for the truth They rebel and raise hell across alleyways and in classroom settings They get, high off that drum bass and 20/20 rims They rock braids, Air Force Ones and Timbs They drink Hennessy, Hypnotiq and 40's They call they women hoes, bust downs and shorties They keep funeral homes in business and gunshot wards of hospitals full Prisons packed, bubblin over in brown sugar They keep empty, Westside lots crowded, hype's powdered The well is running dry, the days of Malcolm and Martin have ended Our hope has descended and off to the side Waiting for the reinstallment of the revolution Because we are dying at the cost of our own pollution But God has another solution, that has evolved from the hood I present one who turns, the Fiasco to good