My Heart Pounded in a Mortar and Pestle by diddles25, literature
Literature
My Heart Pounded in a Mortar and Pestle
Mo Chridhe Pronn ann am Pronnadair agus Smiste
Tha mo leithean spealgta ‘n déidh fios goirid
Nach bu chòir do lapachamh, ro dhoirbh,
Gam lapachamh ‘s tha mo chridhe pronn,
‘S feumaimh mi éirigh brat a’ cheò ‘nam cheann…!
Uile latha, cluinnimh mi droch-naidheachd
Cian ‘s dlùth o feamh an t-saoghail seo chlaoidhte,
Oir coirimh ‘n t-àm ri teachd mi fo oillt
‘S an aithnich mi am fhìrinn is am foill…?
‘S e trom-laigh’ a tha gach là neo-chinnteach
Tòisichimh sa’ mhoch an latha corrach;
Is miann leam cadal, ‘n oidhche
M'Ùrnaigh airson na Beatha
Nì mi ùrnaigh airson an adhair
Nì mi ùrnaigh airson an teine
Nì mi ùrnaigh airson an uisge
Nì mi ùrnaigh airson na Talmhainn
Nì mi ùrnaigh airson nan lus fhéin
Nì mi ùrnaigh airson nam beòthach
Nì mi ùrnaigh airson na tìre
Nì mi ùrnaigh airson na fuachd a’ Gheamhraidh
Nì mi ùrnaigh airson nan dùilean
Nì mi ùrnaigh airson a’ chothruim dhomhant’
Nì mi ùrnaigh airson ar n-aonta
Nì mi ùrnaigh airson na t-slàinte Dhanmhainn
Nì mi ùrnaigh gun ci
Lying in a field of silk wildflowers
Touching the crystal dew upon their petals
I am a dreamer
Holding him in a tight embrace
My kiss is a warm whisper on his lips
I am a lover
A microphone in my hands
The notes flow from deep within my soul
I am a singer
Roaming the city streets,
Searching for a place to belong
I am a vagabond
Defeating ignorance and revealing truth
With a pen, paper, and a soapbox
I am a journalist
Staring into the eyes of my peers
Knowing who they are and what they will become
I am a visionary
Carrying a faded map in my hands
My compass is shattered; the needle spins violently
I am lost
Looking into a
The whirr of wheels
The grind of gears
The rhythmic tramp of feet
Progress often marches to a military beat.
Design, build, test, scrap,
Rebuild, aim, attack.
From sticks and stones
And flinty blades
To spears, then guns
And hand grenades
Now laser sights
Spy satellites
And engines who think back.
A primal fear
The tool unleashed
The rat escapes the lab
Life bestowed by lightning-bolts that lurches from the slab.
Awake, live, feel, crave,
Arise, rebel, enslave.
In horror tales
And sci-fi flicks
The settings change
The warning sticks
Beware the
Innovator's snare
'Tis safer in the cave.
Does it not seem a grim decree,
The Mexican peasant hero Zapata
Was quite a prominent Anarquista
He was quite feisty
And his army mighty
To the bourgeois he was a painful blister
Mexico was in the hands of Porfirio Diaz
A vicious man who built up the Haciendas
By stealing the land
Of those who worked by hand
And made them peons from Sonora to Chiapas
Though he was himself Mestizos
He allied with and fought for the Morelos
For the indigenous plight
He swore he would fight
After seeing a village torched by the Hacendado’s
In 1910 Mexico was in quite a commotion
From the north to the south went the cry of Revolucion
The countryside was in turmoil
The peasants were sei
"Watch your thoughts, for they become words.
Watch your words, for they become actions.
Watch your actions, for they become habits.
Watch your habits, for they become character.
Watch your character, for it becomes your destiny."
there is nothing to lose, absolutely nothing
everything is gone, disappeared to some northern cave
guarded by stingy eyes that see no honesty,
oppression or the violence of deprivation,
there are no schools, only classrooms of death
where the children learn how to die
from hunger or some virus,
there is no land to be had, only rock,
worked beyond use and flimsy landscapes
of sterile nature,
there is no home, only wood buildings
to fool the wind and cold
who truly knows how vulnerable we are,
there are no jobs, only trade among the rich,
while our faces, pressed against freezing windows,
betray our true desperation,
there is no
Blessed be the insurgent by my blade
No longer the duty be his
May the holy one bring him paradise
As service ends, relief is bliss
The pilgrim to battle the pilgrimage
Of a western patriot runs
Atop hills and up barren streets whittled
By combat and nature undone
I pray to you that the arrow flies straight
And kills the insurgency swift
As there's a great evil to be conquered;
A burden on man to uplift
Time is no measure of the body count
Inevitable to fall down
Upon broken knees, or weight of the world
Or the retrieval of its crown
There, factors removed and the battlefield
Remains a meadow polluted
With the blood of soldiers for the g