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Ayad Gharbawi Dec 2009
WOMAN BUTCHERED



Ayad Gharbawi


Child that gathered knowledge
Knowledge frightening to human nature
Girl-child was awakened
Herself she awakened
Saw the glow of eyes buttery
Glow of hatred molten
Glow of **** howling
Child, pretended innocence pretty
Child smiled all along the paths unknown
Yet, her body recognized colours unimaginable in their serenity sublime
Figures in her sleep strange, yet beautiful
Songs of sweet sleep, yet alerting in their soothing abilities
Little girl, who are you?
Why won’t you let us
Define you?
Little girl
Honourable lady woman
Did you grow up at all?
Or did you just die in your infancy?
As so many before you have
Did you come
To feel and understand
Your sensitive dimensions?
We would have made sure that you would be mature
If you were submissive enough for us!
Child girl, laughs uneasily and seriously
Child girl, sees lofty, exalted visions possessive
Visions of history’s episodes are expressed pointedly in your compulsive embraces
The foolish martyred are reading holy sermons for their self remembrance
Soldier unknown unmasking his face mangled to the surprised horror and utter disgust
Of his family, friends and other serious clowns
Singing an anthem of Fate’s real truth and nature and essence
Heroine unnumbered, chained to deformity
And becoming a mirror of what they did chain you to
Child girl scarred and petrified by disturbed scenes committed lovingly and lavishly by Man
Child girl curls, yet anticipates
Listen! The foot-steps frighten you once more
The shrieking manic clown has arrived again, red eyed and even more
Laughing dreary, spitting words jumbled and aloud
Figure of shame stands in front of you
Intents pre-arranged by his late father
Little girl!
Are you a woman yet?
Hearing swirls of delirious, sickening
Madness, uncontrollable panic and deathly angst
Hearing painter’s brush strokes that scream their gasps of breathlessness out
Loudly and chaotically
Hears the anguish of colours’ contrasts and contradict each other to the point of
Serious suicide
Little child! Sees the begging deaf pleading for choirs heavenly to sing seriously
Sees the miserable, emaciated crumbles crumbling,
Yet foolishly searching for a non-existent tenderness in darkness painted by drunken Satans
With the foulest, blackest oil colours in their leprous fingers
They try to paint you; define you
Analyze you; dissect you
Categorize you; classify you
Little girl; woman; ******?
Alone and sincerely and deceptively guided by complicated, intertwining hatreds
That severely despised the existence of each other’s truths and falsities
Feeling sovereignty abused by casual, bored
Unconcerned sub-humans in powerful positions on earth
Pierced in pain
My sweet girl, you are now
Pierced in deathly, unforgiving
Pains and hatreds never forgotten
Sweet Humanity
Sweet Man
Sweet human beings
How sweet you all truly are!
Em or Finn  May 2014
Diversity
Em or Finn May 2014
We’re all different
A fact that some will take with stride
And others will take out their black & white boxes
Trying to cram you into margins that you’ll never fit into

Labels
Just another way to categorize us as objects
Smashing our individuality with a hammer
Until we are all identical, with no more identity

Freedom
Something we are considered lucky to have
Where other countries struggle day by day
Fighting to stay themselves

Yet in our free country
I still find myself fighting for liberation,
Scratching at the cement surface
For endless years

Walking around, trying to be uniform
It’s meant to make us comfortable, but makes me die inside
We all walk in straight, marching band lines like militia members
And walk on forever without a second thought

Individuality
A gift given to us all that we must cherish, hold onto
Accept everyone around you for their good and bad habits
Accept people for who they are, whether you like them or not

One day, I will break free
Run in the opposite direction
With my arms spread out wide
Feeling like Rosa Parks when she claimed her seat

One day I will not be scared of my freedom
One day I will not be scared of trying to explain to people who I am

I will never be scared of friends
I will never be scared of strangers
I will never be scared of family
Boys, girls, adults, parents, siblings

One day I won’t be scared of myself anymore
Scared of making the wrong decisions
And letting everyone around me down
The weights of expectations always make me hide in the shadows
To where I feel I’ll never be good enough

But today, I smile at all my obstacles
With my mind set on “Dare To Be Dangerous”
Because exploring everything around me
Has been a roller coaster of joviality that I’ve always needed

I’ve made new friends this year
Gotten very close to others
But I learned an important lesson

I love who I am
And I will come to accept the future me
But for now I’m different
And that’s all I ever wanted to be
Abigail Madsen Apr 2014
It is time to revolutionize education
Because I am tired of memorization
Creation of nothing but the same
Desks behind desks
Staring at a black board
Bored of all the information
Citation after citation
And all for what
I’m tired of education
Because I don’t learn anything
Teachers preach
But no students learn
We try to earn the grade
But we only play
Play the game of school
This “learning” should be a tool
But instead were only being taught
How to memorize
To categorize
And to analyze
Words
Formulas
And answers
Never
Taught information
True helpful
Real world stuff
That is enjoyable
In the game of school the rules are simple
Stay quite unless spoken to
Sit down until forced to stand
Most importantly
Having an opinion is okay
As long as it matches the teachers
When we are born the first things we learn are to stand up and speak
As soon as education age hits us
We learn how to sit and shut up
To empty our individual cup
To listen and abide
To hide
hide opinions and stand aside
“because I am a teachers and this is education
and what I say goes
why
because I said so”
I’m tired of learning how to be normal
Because I want to learn how to be a bad ***
So why can’t I
And I don’t want a hundred for coloring in the lines
I want a zero for coloring everything but
Education is in groups
Smart
Average
And stupid
Not to be cruel
But its true
And believe me
You are judged on it too
But when looked at as individuals
-Something education discourages-
Everyone as smart
Because the only person you’re being compared to is yourself
That education
No any two snowflakes are the exact same
And no any two people learn the exact same
We have four different classes
English
Math
Science
And History
Four periods of sitting through plenty of worthless information
I wont listen to anyways so why force me into it
If I’m not interested
Why bother
Passion based learning is what we need
So I’m planting the seed
Seed of thought
In the minds of those who have power
Power to change education  
To a passion based formation
I will no longer allow educations dictation
To control me
It’s now time to see
What “Education” could really do for me
I guess I'm not here to make much sense
but now is the time for the system to pay their rent
rental space in my mind
consuming time
thoughts that are no longer mine
Pressed into my brain this idea of education
running this **** like some federation
can't get thoughts in between regurgitated words and facts
Well I think my brain has hit the max
Maximum capacity for the ******* you're spewing
I will no longer be chewing
your lies and conformity
treating different learning like a deformity
No longer an idea of teaching
but memorization
words on a page
Here in this developmental stage
all because they are going through some 'phase'
that makes them stupid
Most of us are fluent
So don't tell me I'm not smart
because I don't know the periodic table by heart
because I'm not well versed in trail of the court
don't tell me I'm stupid
Just because I'm human
That's something that is overlooked
by the ones forcing you to study the books
Unable to see there is something to be said about knowledge of life
Or even the knowledge
not to get
pushed over the edge
Because sometimes enough is enough
And believe me
this "education" **** *****
--Built off of one of my previous poems
Gods1son  Oct 2018
Categories
Gods1son Oct 2018
Sneakers, loafers, sandals, chelsea,
stilettos, wedges, platform, scarpin
I think it's fine to categorize shoes 'cause they serve different purposes

Dress pants, jeans, corduroy pants,
leggings, chinos pants, sweat pants
I think it's fine to categorize pants 'cause they serve different purposes

Black, white, brown, fat, athletic, skinny,
rich, poor, smart, introvert, extrovert, gay, lesbian, straight, Christian, Muslim
I don't think it's fine to categorize humans because we are all ONE from the same SOURCE with the same PURPOSE!
Brett Jones Jan 2012
“No one is ever satisfied with the success, is ever satisfied with the success, is ever satisfied with the dream.  It’s the hunger before a meal when you realize how good it is to be alive.”

With each passing day I feel youth slip from my bones like scoops
falling off a summer ice cream cone to blistering pavement. 

All of my friend’s dogs are dying of old age just like mine. 

Childhood trees we used to climb have either grown too tall to reach
or were struck by lightning.  Decisions, no matter how trivial, become monumental
in the scope of time.  There is no end in sight…only the faintest memory of humble beginnings, leading us
blindly into the vacuum of tomorrow, ******* the dreams from our head to feed the plague of survival.

That’s why you bruise with a breath.  Your heart beats too hard for your house of card frame.  Your body—desert willow—thrives on nothing, pumping cells full of carrots, vitamins and codeine.

Last night, While you were sleeping, I sank to the bottom of the ocean
with a seven mile chain attached to a thousand pound anchor and a Swiss army knife.  Slipping
through seasons I fell colder and deeper and darker, waving and giggling as I sank
for miles, watching the surface light blur and fade completely until I was in night,
a gentle pulse of luminescence massaging me with it’s glow, the old-ironsides squid laughing,
the rave fish pulsing with dinner plate pupils, the leather armor jellyfish are calm as Sunday's first ****,
and the flat rainbow fish spin their data and vanish into black.

All I think I know at 22:
Why they call this the information age;
What Buddy meant when he said, “There is a distance the size of bravery”;
This is the best part.
Hera Nova May 2012
''You dropped your ice-cream little child?'',
This kind of case is only mild.

''You lost your dog?'', this one is sad
''It happened once to uncle Brad''.

But take, ''You're flunking out of school?''
Now, this one's not so very cool.

Alas, nothing ever could compare
To: ''My Mom and Dad are buried there''.
Started this For the Hello Poetry's Latest Experiment: Adopt a Metaphor.
Still w.i.p.
Anya  Sep 2018
Steryotypes
Anya Sep 2018
When you look at me
You instantly stereotype
My glassses
My skin color
You can probably guess I’m book smart
You’d be right
You can guess I’m introverted
You’d be semi right
You can guess I’m not naturally very athletic
You’d be right
You can guess my ethnicity
You’d probably be right
You can guess a lot of things
And there’s a high chance you’d be right for many of them

But...

What about those things,
You’d never guess?
I bet you’d never believe I was a Goalie
You probably don’t know I write poetry
I’m learning Chinese
I ran six miles in fifth grade
I enjoy acting
I’m an atheist
I have a mild obsession with Asian light novels
The list goes on...

But still,
The point here is
There’s a lot of things you don’t see

About me

About everyone

I’m just as guilty of judging as anyone else
We humans tend to categorize,
A lot
...
But,
It’s
Often
Not
True
From the perspective of an American girl whose parents are from India.
Nat Lipstadt Aug 2023
My Woman, My Partner

we need today it seems identifiers moreover,
as we slice, dissect, and categorize the W’s of our
individual experience,
by defining ourselves as pieces of categories

Today, woke with this title-to-be-poem in my head,
My Woman, My Partner

I like particular, individuating descriptors that distinguish
rather than categorize, summary’s that capture the
roomy broad and small strokes, the subtleties of capturing~
encompassing an image total, and yet intuitively tasting and
comprehending the depths and flavoring of our totality,
a combinatory humanity

my choice was My Woman, which was comprehensive
and distinguished, yet upon consultation with said person,
for pre-authorization approval, it was returned to me with
an engine-heart additive, that was both a word that denotes a
binding, ties, equality, and takes it to another, even ever
highest level,

this essay on how I came to title this poem, well, is the poem
in its entirety, it is the process, the point, the summary and the
minutiae of all I wished to convey.



Sunday Aug 13 8:03 AM
Akwana Wa Odera Feb 2019
I'm i a poet
I ask myself
Or i just write
To express something
I've felt?
We so many of late
Poets i ment
Many I've met
Some their pieces
I've read
Some are lost
Others left
But within this space
I fail to categorize
My place.
I'm i a poet
I ask myself
Of late my pieces
Have been of feelings
And fate
But isn't that what poets
Do when writing their specs?
Expressing their desires
And the mixed emotions
They have felt
Maybe a cry for help
Or a struggle to defeat
They intend...
But still in this space
I fail to categorize
My place.
I'm i a poet
I ask myself
I heard poets use
Metaphors and
Similes just
To hide their say
Or rhetoric questions
Leaving their readers
Mouth agape
With thoughts at standstill
Wondering what they ment
But still in this space
I fail to categorize
My place.
Maybe I'm a poet
But I'm done asking
Myself
I know i write my thoughts
And my says
My feelings too
Tho at times
I put them at bay
The happenings of yesterday
And what the world
Has shown me today,
So maybe I'm a poet
Or an invention
I've created for myself
Reason in this space
I won't categorize
My place.

Akwana Wa Odera
@therealakwana
© 2019
Your eyes smoulder with an imagination that is even bolder than I could have dreamed and colder than this toxic air we've been forced to breathe.

You write poetry across your face to form a Gas mask of rythym, blocking out the hate yet sealing in ideas that might frustrate you.

You hear the birds in the trees and you read the articles in every magazine, you take in information like the bees to the Queen.

Your thoughts radiate an aura surrounding your entire body, you bleed history and pop culture facts, you need the written word like an addict needs their cigarette packs.

You're empathetic to your core, you feel what everyone else does so you hide yourself in your mind until you can categorize the emotions from the lies.

I know you can feel the love in your heart even through all the cracks, like a weathered and torn apart roadmap but you're taped together perfectly and even with a few wrong turns you always find your way back to me.
Seher Seven  Oct 2014
QUEEN
Seher Seven Oct 2014
I can't believe all of the things they say about me
Walk in the room they throwing shade left to right
They be like "Ooh, she's serving face!"
And I just tell em, "Cut me up, and get down!"

They call us ***** 'cuz we break all your rules down
And we just came to act a fool, is that all right? (Girl, that's alright)
They be like "Ooh, let them eat cake!"
But we eat wings and throw them bones on the ground!

Am I a freak for dancing 'round? (queen)
Am I a freak for getting down? (queen)
I'm cutting up, don't cut me down
Yeah I wanna be, wanna be Q.U.E.E.N.

Is it peculiar that she twerk in the mirror?
And am I weird to dance alone late at night? (Naw!)
And is it true we're all insane? (Yeah)
And I just tell 'em "No, we ain't" and get down

I heard this life is just a play with no rehearsal
I wonder will this be my final act tonight
And tell me what's the price of fame?
Am I a sinner with my skirt on the ground?

Am I a freak for dancing 'round?
Am I a freak for getting down?
I'm cutting up, don't cut me down
Yeah I wanna be, wanna be Q.U.E.E.N.

Hey, brother, can you save my soul from the devil?
Say is it weird to like the way she wear her tights?
And is it rude to wear my shades?
Am I a freak because I love watching Mary? (Maybe)

Hey, sister, am I good enough for your heaven?
Say will your God accept me in my black and white?
Will he approve the way I'm made?
Or should I reprogram, reprogram and get down?

Am I a freak for dancing 'round?
Am I a freak for getting down?
I'm cutting up, don't cut me down
Yeah I wanna be, wanna be Q.U.E.E.N

Even if it makes others uncomfortable
I will love who I am
Even if it makes other uncomfortable
I will love who I am


Don't shake 'til the break of dawn
Don't mean a thing, so duh
I can't take it no more
Baby, we in tuxedo groove
Pharaohs and E. Badu
Crazy in the black and white
We got the drums so tight
Baby, here comes the freedom song
Too strong we moving on
Baby, this melody
Will show you another way
Been tryin' for far too long
Come home and sing your song
But you gotta testify
Because the ***** don't lie

No, no, the ***** don't lie
Oh no, the ***** don't lie

Yeah
Yeah, Let's flip it
I don't think they understand what I'm trying to say

**I asked a question like this
"Are we a lost generation of our people?
Add us to equations but they'll never make us equal.
She who writes the movie owns the script and the sequel.
So why ain't the stealing of my rights made illegal?
They keep us underground working hard for the greedy,
But when it's time pay they turn around and call us needy.
My crown too heavy like the Queen Nefertiti
Gimme back my pyramid, I'm trying to free Kansas City.

Mixing masterminds like your name Bernie Grundman.
Well I'm gonna keep leading like a young Harriet Tubman
You can take my wings but I'm still goin' fly
And even when you edit me the ***** don't lie
Yeah, keep singing and I'mma keep writing songs
I'm tired of Marvin asking me, "What's Going On?
March to the streets 'cuz I'm willing and I'm able
Categorize me, I defy every label
And while you're selling dope, we're gonna keep selling hope
We rising up now, you gotta deal you gotta cope
Will you be electric sheep?
Electric ladies, will you sleep?
Or will you preach?"
Queen Lyrics
from The Electric Lady

Janelle Monae -
"Queen" is track #3 on the album The Electric Lady.
If you haven't heard this yet, you should! The beat sings to you and demands you get up and DANCE!!!
Anonymouse  Jun 2017
Plus Size?
Anonymouse Jun 2017
I call myself a feminist.
I call myself proud.
I see "big and beautiful" or "***" marked along the walls.
I see "plus size" as a label for a woman with hips.
I watch loving compliments,
but..
I also watch heartless hateful commentaries.
We label everything between fruit, office supplies, or people.
That's how humans understand, to categorize.
How can we call ourselves people if we label to give pain and not for simple understanding.
People are not plus sized.
We are all sizes.
We are all skinny for we are all covered in skin.
Thin and thick are not meant to be judgements.
We are all beautiful.
We should all spread love.
Label to learn.
Leave hate for hell.

— The End —