Poetry by The Frontier Man
In lands of power, a cabal stands,
Their grip tightens o'er the sands,
A coterie, so vile and cruel,
Whose rule extends with iron tool.
Upon their strings, the papers dance,
Ink-stained puppets, in dark romance,
With sharpened quills, they pen their lies,
To fan the flames, and stoke the cries.
For war and ruin, they conspire,
To set the world's stage afire,
With whispered words and twisted truth,
They prey on minds, both old and youth.
These puppeteers, with hearts of stone,
Their bloodstained hands, the world has known,
Yet, in their shadows, they remain,
As chaos reigns, and sorrows gain.
And as the drums of war resound,
The chains of strife grow more profound,
The empire built on pain and dread,
Its subjects to the slaughter led.
Yet, hope remains, for those who see,
The truth behind this dark decree,
To stand against the tyrants' reign,
And break the chains, to breathe again.
by The Frontier Man
In a land where liberty once took its stand,
Constitution’s word was the law of the land.
By the people, for them, or so was the plan,
Now, in shadows dark, these ideals are damned.
Truth was once our bright shining star,
Now the lies stretch both near and far.
Forgotten and lost, truth and trust,
Become outlaws, as facts turn to dust.
Deceptions unfurl, from whispers to gust,
As government cloaks us in web of mistrust.
A narrative shaped, deceptions so sly,
Blinding the nation’s public eye.
Wars without an end, under darkening sky,
True culprits in hiding, facing no outcry.
Privacy stolen, surveillance our bane,
Three letter agencies, freedom's dark stain.
Our trust, our faith, in democracy's name,
Eroded, corroded, in this covert game.
In the corners dark, they watch and they wait,
Rulers unknown, deciding our fate.
Yet in this dark realm, heroes arise,
Whistleblowers and journalists, cutting through lies.
Snowden, Assange, their lives’ sacrifice,
Truth ...
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In battle's fog and cannon's roar,
Where death is near, life's unsure.
Do we ignore the victims cries,
Or lift our gaze to spare their lives?
A wise man said with keen insight,
Some eyes are opened to the plight.
They see the pain that others bear,
A world of anguish, stark and bare.
Yet others choose to look away,
Ignoring those who plead and pray.
Their anger fueled, close their eyes
To demonize, and break all ties.
Amidst the death, our choice is stark,
To close our eyes, ignore the dark.
Or open hearts, and stop the plight,
That steals from life its precious light.
💔
by The Frontier Man
A modern reinterpretation of Van Gogh’s Olive Tree collection of paintings
The Olive Tree, scientifically known as Olea europaea, is a symbol in culture, history, and religion. Native to the Mediterranean Basin, the tree has been cultivated for thousands of years for its fruit and oil. Beyond its nutritional and economic value, olive tree holds significant symbolic weight. It is a symbol representing a range of positive qualities including peace, prosperity, and resilience. Its enduring presence in art, mythology, and modern parlance testifies to its universal appeal and significance.
