Gerard Vern's Poetry

  • Aylan Kurdi

    For the little boy

    Who washed up on a beach in Greece

    My heart it weeps

    Your struggle is a part of me

    The label forced upon another human being

    To call me refugee

    Diminish my humanity

    I am the mother

    Who had to watch

    Her own children die

    By the time they starved to death

    They were too weak to cry

    I am the homeless man

    You won’t sit next to

    On the subway train

    You see my worthlessness

    But you won’t feel my pain

    Meanwhile

    Americans get fatter

    Black Lives Matter

    The Corporate Ladder

    Gives rise to obscene inequality

    A four year old girl

    Has her genitals mutilated in Sierra Leone

    Asian sweatshop workers

    Make the clothes and shoes

    That you happily own

    The shadow government pretends not to exist

    And won’t admit

    About the aliens or clones

    And Kim Jong Un turned 33

    This anthropocentric delusion

    Is a disease

    Like mass desensitization

    Mega mind indoctrination thru a screen

    Have you ever watched someone

    Watch TV

    Now define “Free”

    Free time or free dome

    Free minds

    Are free to roam

    Free spirits

    Feel right at home

    With deep spirits

    That vibe is strong

    Once again

    They cut the rations

    In the City of Thorns

    The demarcation between our rhetoric

    And our actions

    Has grown

    I am the ***** child

    Aware that I’m young, black and gifted

    Yet oblivious and unprepared

    For the burden of being different

    I am the question

    The man

    In a prison cell with a pen

    This is the mirror

    The answer lies within