With all we get wet umbrella

With all we get wet umbrella.

As a shower under any umbrella.

It falls on us and the human intellect.

Particles of the underdevelopment of our rulers.

In a disaster.

Mother earth is sick and revealed.

And we get wet we soak,

And we do not denounce and rebel.

Contrary to let us mojemos.

Poetry today weeps his sorrows.

Drowning in tears of impotence.

And my clumsy pen Palca and defends

Faced with such insolence.

Seas grow and people drown.

What you waiting for? (...)

Pure Oxygen ask the people of the world.

Routes of a train not reach any station.

There are arms and legs to stop and driving.

This ephemeral death train station and its platform.

As unbiased as we die our own,

Seas and Oceans.

And discriminately cut down our forests.

The lungs of the world.

My pen does not rest rest.

Ephemeral Asta's death, becomes new

Source of life.

I sang, wrote songs,

Painted, and sculpted and denounce all.

Where are the singers of the mother earth.

Where are my God?

Do not hear them.

Father continue singing continue singing.

That we mourn for all events.

Past, present and future.

To continue the prayers and chants, brushes speaking,

Scarps that sculpt.

To follow the proposals and good,

Intentions in a great communion of facts,

And actions.

I will not rest while day and night nurse.

Sunrises and sunsets.

As my eyes tired,

To see and hear you are sick,

Our planet continues to be violated,

Women abusing source of love,

And life.

Mother Earth cries.

Cries our great mother of all.

Why is there war and violence.

Murderers loose.

Famine and misery.

Children who do not play.

Children working in the land.

Kids with no education.

Children who die in ours,

Major wars.

Led by providing.

Weapons and live off them-

Enrich them.

And the biggest puppets.

Diseased heads.

Those who send us to war.

And I'm typing on my keyboard.

I keep painting and sculpting.

And denouncing.

I keep crying, crying and praying.

I keep fighting and dreaming.

I'm still up and awake.

Governments keep promising.

And while it's still raining,

In our heads droppings

Of evolution at any price.

Continue to drop bombs on innocent heads.

And we mojándonos and without an umbrella.

No hats or raincoats.

Text-william art

27/07/07

Tags: Neo Surrealist Poetry.

Art-william poems here:

http://www.my-forum.org/descripcion.php?ultimo=1&nforo=298169&pag=30

Neo Surrealist Movement WEB FORUM.

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