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You Are Free (Freedom)

Freedom is...
A blank page, ruled with margins for scribbled after-thoughts
Ink in the fountain pen and some new idea to spill
A canvas, with pallet oiled and brushes ready
A quiet room, an acoustic guitar in tune
A sunrise, derelict buildings, wide lens and film ready in the camera
A garden, soil turned and green fingers
Wet sand, a new love and a sharp stick
A science textbook, a biro and a teenage smirk

Freedom is...
Truths to tell, a close friend with a sympathetic ear
White folded card, marker pens, glue, an impending birthday
A concrete wall, spray can in hand, something to say
A ream of material, needle, thread and buttons
An audience, a microphone, a knowing smile
A piano, no music written but itchy fingers
A blog post and a theme as free as freedom itself
Freedom is your life, and whatever story you choose to write with it

Freedom is self-expression
You are free!

(Oct 2010)


◄ Disorder of My Family

A New Beginning ►


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Harry O'Neill

Tue 16th Oct 2012 16:35

This was before my time...All the examples strictly to the point of the poem, and very much loved:

`Wet sand, a new love and a sharp stick`

tony sheridan

Tue 16th Oct 2012 14:21

Many times I have sat looking at a blank piece of paper with pen in hand. Waiting. Then the words begin to flow. Freedom! Love this. Take care, Tony.

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Dave Bradley

Mon 1st Nov 2010 10:55

Managed to miss this very enjoyable poem first time round. Andy's list has brought it to light. Isobel is right - very good.

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Tue 19th Oct 2010 17:46

p.s. there are lots of brilliant observations in here. Particularly like the references to teenagers, science textbooks and biros. Not obvious ideas but very well observed

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Tue 19th Oct 2010 17:42

I love your thought processes Thom and this novel approach to the theme. I'm glad to see such a positive mind set - it makes a change. We are all so lucky - aren't we? To be able to express ourselves is a gift that we take for granted.

Your poem ties in with neatness - everything being pat - just so - to facilitate expression. Sometimes freedom exists also in chaos. The right to turn your back on it even. To have a garden, soil unturned and not to give a damn. To have a noisy room that you can shut the door on and retreat upstairs from. for me, freedom exists in the unlikeliest places, you just have to recognise it.
I like the way your poem made me feel - it is very positive. x

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Andy N

Tue 19th Oct 2010 08:12

cheers for the entry, thom.. good luck with it! A

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