Poets / philosophers / free- thinkers

I value the freedom to hold diverse and diverging opinions no matter how unpalatable they may be to others who disagree with me. I value freedom of speech and the freedom to be able to login anywhere in the world and listen to the opinions of others.

I have found Google a democratic tool to listen to the other voices of the world. I hope it will never be able to be blocked by those who wish only their own views to be heard and who wish to squash dissent.

Thank you Google for enabling free speech on this planet.

Cheers Pamela Sidney

Pam's Poetry Pitch

http://pulse.ziby.net/index150.html THE VEIL OF ISIS 1

http://pulse.ziby.net/index157.html THE VEIL OF ISIS 11

http://pulse.ziby.net/index151.html The Confest

http://pulse.ziby.net/index152.html Busking in London Underground 1

http://pulse.ziby.net/index155.html Busking in London Underground 11

http://pulse.ziby.net/index156.html Busking in London Underground 111

http://pulse.ziby.net/index16.html London

[picture]

Just Sing America .

I love you singing America - music is what you do best

sing to me in a minor key - just for a change E minor, A minor

soft non threatening wistful sounds in delicate keys

exploring the realms of subtlety

different planes of existence higher than language

that lift you to harmony suggestive of beauty

with feelings so deep

refrains that echo the sweetest love.

Come down from your key of G major America

your all conquering triumphant battle call

G major's the key of the old testament god

beating his war-drum relentlessly

it's the drum you march to America

bellicose, arrogant, revenge

always ends in eye-for-an-eye futility

Forget your land mines,

your cluster bombs your depleted uranium

don't even think of your 'mother-of-all-bombs'

bury your bunker busters, your daisy-cutters

along with your missiles - these bring you

down to just another 'rogue state'

Roll out your music America -

do a soft-shoe-shuffle, a tap or a waltz

stun us all with your blues from the Delta -

country soul from a Nashville stage

New Orleans jazz - rock and roll

Janis and Jimi still pulsing and shouting

from every lonely one-horse outpost.

Let's hear again your protest songs -

Phil Ochs and Dylan - Neil Young's tyrades against injustice -

Jackson Brown's hymns of peace - the anti-war anthems

of Buffy Saint Marie - raw grunge from Seattle, loud brass from Chicago

your moon-drenched cajun from Louisianna swamp-lands

rap and punk from Harlem/New York - folk songs of hardship

and poverty from your favourite son Woody Guthrie

Let's hear the sweet fiddlers from Appalacia -

ballads from the mountains of Arkansas -

gospel, soul, funk and pop - it's always music

you do best - you know your bombing's not all that good

and collateral damage, your friendly fire - your euphemisms

for slaughter - are no-one's cup of tea.

I love you singing America - music is what you do best

just sing to me in a minor key - just for a change E minor, A minor

soft non threatening wistful sounds exploring the realms of subtlety

different plains of existence higher than language

that lift you to harmony suggestive of beauty

with feelings so deep - refrains that echo the sweetest love

just sing America it's what you do best.

Pamela Sidney 2003

Here then, are Willy Nelson's words: As published

in the Austin newspaper -

'Austin American Statesman' Tues Dec 30th 2003

What Ever Happened To Peace On Earth

There's so many things going on in the world

Babies dying Mothers crying

How much oil is one human life worth

And what ever happened to peace on earth

We believe everything they tell us

They're gonna' kill us So we gotta' kill them first

But I remember a commandment

Thou shalt not kill

How much is that soldier's life worth

And whatever happened to peace on earth

(bridge)

And the bewildered herd is still believing

Everything we've been told from our birth

Hell they won't lie to me

Not on my own damn TV

But how much is a liar's word worth

So I guess it's just

Do unto others before they do it to you

Let's just kill em' all and let God sort em' out

Is this what God wants us to do

(repeat bridge)

And the bewildered herd is still believing

Everything we've been told from our birth

Hell they won't lie to me

Not on my own damn TV

But how much is a liar's word worth

And whatever happened to peace on earth

Now you probably won't hear this on your radio

Probably not on your local TV

But if there's time, and you're ever so inclined

You can always hear it from me

How much is one picker's word worth

And whatever happened to peace on earth

But don't confuse caring for weakness

You can't put that label on me

The truth is my weapon of mass protection

And I believe truth sets you free

(bridge)

And the bewildered herd is still believing

Everything we've ben told from our birth

Hell they won't lie to me

Not on my own damn TV

But how much is a liar's word worth

And whatever happened to peace on earth

Willy Nelson 2003

Date: Sunday, January 25, 2004 14:24:05

To: JohnRobertson@freedomsolution.info

Subject: New Poem from pamela

Dear John - another new poem !

'Machines - Running White-Hot'

the shredding madness begins

in the small hours

machines eat documents

inked with embarrassing truths

trucks line up -

contents sealed from view -

hauling their cargo - tons of paper

to secret destinations

where incinerators

fire to ash the blackest

of the secret truths - the rest

are shredded to confetti oblivion

to fall from office windows

upon the heads of the crowd below

marching in the street - demanding justice

and equality of opportunity and surety

of this country's sovereignty -

in the face of global economy

running wild with Empire (ism) U.S. style

for you see – the cover-up has begun

truth is dying to smoke and shredded paper

for - you see - there is to be

an election very soon

Pamela Sidney 2004

From: pamela bourke

Date: Sunday, February 01, 2004 14:59:53

To: JohnRoberstson@freedomsolution.info

Subject: Two Poems from Pamela - 1 Inventory/ 2 Hallelujah

Dear John

I said in my last E that I'd leave the poems for a while - but as I am awaiting your next instructions - here are two.

I am not at all 'precious' about my poetry, and realise, my political poems are often harsh truth and not always palatable.

So, if you feel some are too strong for your site I will understand if you would rather not put them up.

First, a softer Poem -

Inventory

(to do with crashing computers)

I gently put my dreams in the car-boot

safely sealed clusters of security

beside poems of unconscious thoughts

brought to reality in quiet daydream days

next to poems lie radical documents

gleaned from far-off lands bristling with war

occupation, the savage circus of the

military industrial complex

I place letters from you - written moods

varied as moon's journey transiting

the heavens round her wheel

of constellations

alongside poppies, wild orchids pressed flat

shining translucent from cellophane packs

I remember to include my diary, with its

navigation of this soul's expression

drawing out words sometimes clumsy

makinf sense of complexity -

the human condition

beside my diary I put all I know

of alchemy, magic, mythology, lists

of correspondences - planets virtues -

how they relate to earth's epochs

from primordial time when

great mother ruled

and earth was truly in balance

not to forget edited notes

on all the perfumes of Arabia

how Arabs learned first the art

of distilling essence from herbs and

flowers, the sap and bark of trees

my car-boot is nearly full

yet I must pack everything in here

I've come so far - don't know how long

I'll be gone, where I'm going -

if ever I'll come back

seems right to make this inventory

of my treasury - re-assure myself I've

learned something while living on this

strange, wild, beautiful planet

the odd thing is, I'm not going anywhere

just to a Brunswick shop, they'll give me another computer, for the one in my car-boot got so full

up with all my dreams, she stopped completely

and I am about to wipe the slate clean

start a new journey

Pamela Sidney 2004

Hallelujah

They're gunning for you if you're talking peace

when you dispute their spin, utter your truth

when they shout 'Hallelujah Lord Jesus Christ

wrapped safe in their stars and stripes

watch out, 'cause you can be sure

if you're talking peace

they'll be there gunning for you

They shoot you if you choose to be a pacifist

if you're black, a preacher, call thousands

to the streets, remember

Martin Luther King 1968 R.I.P.

They shoot you if you sing for peace

if you take the media to your bed

call for a 'love-in', 'imagine'

the end of all war - how can

we forget John Lennon 1980 R.I.P.

They shoot you when you fight

for civil rights, if you're black, a Muslim

demand equality, remember

the integrity of Malcolm X 1965 R.I.P.

They shoot you when you're a socialist president

if you nationalise the economy

are friendly with Cuba

remember President Allende 1973 R.I.P.

They shoot you it you're a freedom-fighter

a communist - even when it's poverty

you're trying to beat

remember Ernesto 'Che' Guevara 1967 R.I.P.

They shoot you when you protest

a war they're fighting, remember the

students at Kent University, remember

'four dead in Ohio' 1969 ? R.I.P.

They shoot you in Chile if you're

a protest singer, they remove your hands

if you play guitar - remember

Victor Jarra 1973 R.I.P.

Yes, they're gunning for you if you're talking peace

when you dispute their spin , utter your truth

when they shout Hallelujah Lord Jesus Christ

wrapped safe in their stars and stripes

watch out, 'cause you can be sure

if your singing, talking, marching

fighting, holding a 'love-in'for peace

they'll be out there, gunning for you

Pamela Sidney 2002

A VILLANELLE

by Pamela Sidney

Black Lane (February 2004)

As spring rain sweetens the cool air of night

Showering a million stars at my feet

Moonlight falls washing the rough blue-stones white

Where back-lane fences circumscribe our life

And palings point skywards like jagged teeth

As spring rain sweetens the cool air of night

Kids play cards, touch-tiggy, hopscotch, pick fights

As moonlight washes the rough blue-stones white

Escape is planned here for the next bank heist

Safe haven for all who trespass this beat

Where spring rain sweetens the cool air of night

And young girls seek refuge - give birth in flight

Poverty, harsh mother of this their street

Where moonlight silvers the rough blue-stones white

And memories uncurl to rise and bite

Struggle on this street where life and death meet

Where spring rain sweetens the cool air of night

Moonlight still falls, washing the blue-stones white

Pamela Sidney 2004

For Guestbook and My Blogs (Web Log) go to http://freedomsolution.zibycom.com/site/default.asp

THE END