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At the top of the rollarcoaster,
Dreading the steep drop,
Knowing another climb is coming
But I hate the gut wrenching feeling
Like I'm falling and I can't stop.
If I were Jesus Christ,
I'd take all of your insecurities and taboos
and turn them
inton beautiful hymns,
If i were Jesus Christ
you wouldn't pray to me
instead,
once a day
you would tell the people you love
how you really feel about them
If I were Jesus Christ
cheesy teenage love letters
would be in the book of gospel
and if I were Jesus Christ
you wouldn't just love your neighbor
but your neighbor's neighbor's neighbor
and If I were Jesus Christ
I would take all of your tears
and transform them
into wine
so that we might forget
the harshness of the world
So many things were happening,
I never took the time to think
Just how much you hurt me.
I didn't realize it until now,
But you broke my heart.
Well, broke it even more.
Now every time I see you is like a knife
Right in my chest.

I guess I still love you,
Or at the very least care for you.
Every time you make those off-hand remarks,
The remarks that hint at your self-loathing,
It drives the knife a little deeper.
I can't talk to you anymore.
I can't tell you any of this, either.
 Apr 2013 Renee Ransom
Leon Hart
As with most men, it is easier for me to give hugs than to accept them,
Let the truth be known that men are nothing more than emotional skyscrapers,
built with glass infrastructures, spray painted the color of steel and nicknamed "Strength"

Strange, isn't it?

What walking contradictions are we called men...

Men are taught to colonize at the age of 5 through games like cops and robbers,
cowboys and indians
At the age of 8 we are given helmets and told to hit each other on the head with it,
Bleed but do not bleed,
Cut but do not cry,
Be a man, join the military,
Die for your country, and if death comes to you,
Look it in the eye and say:
Bring it on, mother-******, I fear nothing but intimacy.

When it comes to intimacy men quiver like fault lines, crumble like cities

What walking contradictions are we called men...

Men sign peace accords while abusing their wives,
Accept the Nobel Peace prizes while reducing health care,
Pledge to rid the world of terrorism while simultaneously denying government aid to any country that defends a woman's right to choose

During the 1970's the US government forcebly sterilized an estimated fifty percent
of the indigenous population of America's Mid-West telling them the process was reversible

Can you say biological terrorism?

In a global war against terror, maybe testosterone is the real terrorist
And if so, how many of these Star Spangled singing, flag waving citizens would
continue to do so If terror was not racialized, but gendered?

Would the US military turn its guns on itself for a *** trap across Southeast
Asia, Africa and the Americas?
Would MTV be firebombed for its subjectification, hyper-sexualization of our women of colored bodies?
Would we stop looking towards the muslim world for misogyny and instead
turn our sights to Madrid, Montreal, New York, Los Angeles?

And I understand my sisters when they say every woman has a story that's been told a maxim of one soul, maybe less
And that is why you'll never hear me call a woman ****, ***** or a ****,
No matter what she does, because I do not blame her
I blame the men who have emotionally and physically ***** her,
I blame these corporations whose images tell them they hate her,
And I put my arms on her shoulder and tell her how great to life and
to God that SHE created her

Men, take note, this is how you give love,
This is how you receive hugs.
Press flesh to flesh till breast crumple,
Like emotional origamy.

                                   -Mark Gonzales
I sound like a broken record,
How many times will I say it?
How many people will ask?
I needed a release,
I needed a release,
I needed a release.
Nobody understands,
Always the questions:
"Why did you do it?"
"What did he do?"
Always the judgement:
"*****."
"Murderer."
"Gold digger."
"*****."
The rumors, oh how they fly:
"She cheated... He found out."
"She wanted his money."
"She's insane."
They don't know
How long it took me to pick it up,
Point it at his head,
Pull the ****** trigger.
His blood on my hands for a change.
See, people never knew
His abusive side.
But I did.
My stitches,
Bruises,
And broken bones are all the proof I need.
Now I'm free,
Free to do as I please,
Free until the day I die.
Then, they tell me:
Jail,
Life sentence.
Where's my fair trial?
My jury?
My judge?
Welcome to America,
Land of the eternally ******.
An old poem of mine I found recently.
I could tell you that the world is perfect,
That nothing needs to change,
That everything is rainbows and unicorns and flowers.
This would be a lie.
This is a dog eats dog world.
Brother is turned against brother,
Sister against sister,
Friend against friend.
This world of war and pain,
This isn't the world it should be.
America is based on lies people chose to believe
Because they can't handle the truth.
The politicians are criminals
And laws are based on hate,
Hate that trickles down from City Halls,
To school hallways,
To the minds of teenagers and children.
Is this what parents want?
Children to be taught to hate?
I can see a better world,
Where religions and races can live in harmony.
This world is enough to make anyone wish to die,
But I still live because one day,
I will be heard.
One day,
Everything I stand for will come true.
I may die before this happens,
But it's a cause worth dying for.
A poem I wrote for a poetry contest, sort of based off of other poems I've written.
It's been a year since that day,
To be exact,
It's been a year and two days.
Only 367 days since that day,
The day that you broke my heart,
For the first time?
The second?
It's happened so many times,
It seems I've lost track.
Well look at me now,
I'm pathetic,
I'm a wreck.
What did you do to me?
Why am I so drawn to you,
Why can't I ever shake you?
When will this all be over?
The problem is:
I don't think it will ever be over.
I don't think I can ever stop
Loving you.
I understand that everyone dies,
I just wish it wouldn't hurt so much.
So now I say goodbye,
Goodbye to a grandfather I barely knew,
But still loved all the same.
Goodbye to that cheerful man,
The man I knew before the disease
Claimed your mind.

I don't know if you're in heaven,
Or just dead here on this earth,
But whatever the case may be,
After many long years,
And many struggles,
You are truly at peace.

We will always love you,
We will always miss you,
We will always remember you.
R.I.P. Beba, I wish I could have known you better before you were taken from us.
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