Calm These Troubled Waters!


Where is Moses when we need him?
If he could but part the sea again
and calm these troubled waters,
thus freeing the tortured soul of man.

Oh, mine eyes have seen the pain
and felt the suffering of the poor.
No Promised Land for them,
just an endless, barren shore.

Oh Lord, look upon your servant
and give sustenance tonight.
Heal the sick and feed the hungry.
Set the many wrongs to right.

Throw the moneychangers out.
And give the widow back her mite.
Judge the wicked and the heathens,
may they never see your light.

Not a religious being am I,
And though I sin and come up short,
The devil owns the rich,
So let Hell be their resort.

Written by,
Shelby I. Courtland
©2014 Shelby I. Courtland

I don’t even want to hear it PEOPLE!! I have tried everything!

So, I call upon the Lord to hear my plea! Intervene and deliver us from the evils of capitalism, greed, vice, corruption, fracking, filthy water, Monsanto, politicians, disease and a world in chaos! Amen!

The Tortured Homeless!

tortured homeless

I want to step into the future and leave my memories behind.

Why must I take with me the pain and eventually lose my mind?

When my thoughts become too much; a burden I cannot bear,

can my memories be erased? My desire is not to care.

They attack me night and day, leaving scars and scabs of thought.

Hopelessly engulfed; in memory’s web I’m trapped and caught.

Reflections of a tortured mind; subliminal reverie,

no nightmare can compete with my painful reality.


I am chased by a haunting specter of an unrelenting fiend.

No succubus in my dreams on which this demon can be weaned.

Afraid to close my eyes, those mirrors into my soul,

and my every thought and memory, an ugly shriveled troll.

No good did ever cleave to me, my deeds will never shine.

I worshipped at ole evil’s feet and kissed the devil’s shrine.

Regrets were never mine to know; in crassness, born and bred,

and to those whose paths I crossed; their screams pound in my head.

From memories, I must be set free and confine them to a tomb.

Or settle down to await rebirth as my thoughts bespeak my doom.


Written by,

Shelby I. Courtland

© 2013 Shelby I. Courtland


The Devolution of Evolution


There are those who say that we must wait for human evolution

and that we are just as wrong if we start a revolution.

Humans have devolved into what you see today.

There are those who glimpse the suffering and they simply turn away.

They care not for the hungry, no tears shed for the sick.

They beat them down and shame them, it usually does the trick.

Must they take another look; no glasses hued in rose

and speak to me of what they see with eyes that do not close.

There is a war throughout the land in one form or another.

We do not love our sister and we hate our foreign brother.

There are those who walk the streets, they have no home at all.

They were sold out by the bankers who never take a fall.

The rich have all the power and the poor are in a bind.

If you fail to see the problem, there is something on your mind.

Or could it be you just won’t see because you would reject

that we have not evolved and are stuck in retrospect.

The ones who see and understand that something must be done

are those who care for all and not just care for one.

If ever we evolve, and there is no sign we have

the future looks too bleak if what we use is salve,

to staunch the flow of blood from those who are in pain

and never hold accountable, the ones who wield the chain.

Alone, we cannot act, we need you all onboard

as this is not a game, and we can ill afford,

to not join in the fray nor start the protest march

nor arm ourselves with nature’s tools and branch out like the larch.

Where once we stood alone, we now stand arm in arm

And those who are the enemy are those who do us harm.

Violence begets violence and this I understand

but power will not yield with just a reprimand.

Those with much to lose will crush us if we try.

They must hear our roar, they must heed our cry.

For peace can never reign without a show of might.

No matter who is wrong, no matter who is right.

Written by,

Shelby I. Courtland

© 2013 Shelby I. Courtland





The screams are from my soul.

My body burns with a fever.

I shake from head to toe.

My fury knows no end.

An age old wisdom did not come easily.

I see the stark reality of the horror of our lives.

Crimes have been committed in the name of those who lied.

Cruel intentions are often met with violent reactions.

When have we not been at war with one another?

Have we never realized that we share a common bond?

Light filters through the darkness, contrast in stark relief.

We cowered in the night, hidden, trapped and waiting.

Until the cold morning light shown with a staring glare,

cruelty that was hidden from all the world to see.

No judgment cast on us will blight our giving nature.

We are bound by no contract. We only seek to aid.

Do not believe it. We do not come in peace.

We are the hunters. We are the beast.

We tear down and we rebuild that which we have destroyed.

We are benevolent and we mean you no harm.
Believe this not for we come like the greatest storm.

The helpless are worn down, we seek to build them up.

We are lovers of freedom, join us. We insist.

Global poverty is what we strive to end.
You will not go it alone, on this you can depend.

We are in your corner. That is where you want us to be.

If you are not with us, our wrath you must then face.
We insist you follow us and always know your place.

The world is ours and we make the rules.

We can force you into submission, this you do not want.
Your fields will be let fallow, your people crushed and gaunt.

My soul cries out in horror as we take and take and take.
I see a nightmare of suffering. Why can I not awake?

Cease the torture you do in my name!

I am shunned the world over and only you know why.
Powerless to break the war machine, I stand helplessly by.

I weep for you, and for those whom you will lose.
Our government will take from you everything it can use.

You will be left without a home, your birthplace destroyed.
While tears stream down my face when the missiles are deployed.

This is not done in my name, and yet I gave assent. I stood aloof.
I am defeated. I do not stand in glory. My broken body is the proof.

Written by,

Shelby I. Courtland

© 2013 Shelby I. Courtland