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“Decolonize your mind before you become a new black slave.” He whispered to me before pushing one of his dreads behind his ear and grinning wildly at my perplexed expression. I lowered the straightener and stared at him for a while – I had loved him because of the way he was self-assured, it never faltered and I knew an explanation would follow as I leaned forward, raising an eyebrow, questioning him.
“You know you’re a queen right?” He continued, interrupting my train of thought, while turning off the straightener at the plug point.
“Ja, I know.” I answered blatantly.  
“ Then decolonize your mind.” He shouted before thrusting his hands into the sky and exiting my room. I think he knew I would figure it out for myself because as I stared at the straightener on my desk- it clicked. The statement vibrated in the very depths of my soul and an untapped reserve of energy was suddenly channelled into my aura. I could feel my ancestors, I could hear their cries, I could feel the weight of shackles, I could feel a whip, I could feel resentment, I could feel hatred, I could feel the power of a God who didn’t look like me, I could feel my peoples names that were written out of history books, I could taste blood in my mouth, I could feel blood on the cotton, I could feel what it meant to be black.
It was an epiphany, induced both by drink as well as the stench of my burnt hair. The epiphany spoke to me, reminding me that who I am was holy. That black was undeniably beautiful and not in the clichéd way that I learnt of in history when people averted their eyes, avoiding discomfort presented in an unacknowledged truth. It was in earnest, that I realised that my melanin was paramount to a glorious dynasty that I was privileged enough to be a part of. I would wear my ancestry daily and no longer shy away from the truth of my being. I am sun kissed, I am regal, I am Cleopatra, I am King Shaka, I am the soil and the trees and everything that matters in this universe, I am a closed fist lifted in a rally where mercy has intersected rage, resulting in non-violence.
The only violence that is accepted is that which vehemently opposes the status quo that my people are not good enough. That is what was meant when he told me to decolonize my mind.
“ You will be villianized in your pursuit for emancipation because the margin of melanin present in our people will always render you a slave so choose now what you will subscribe to. “ and I made a decision, standing upon the raw backs of my ancestors- I chose a discarded truth and the truth is this-  I am art. We, are art and art cannot be subjugated or castrated by a close minded agenda, set by people who have never bothered to understand you nor will they ever begin to.
I am  a poem that breathes and speaks and therefor has no choice but to be remembered. I will be etched into the minds of people who would rather forget me. I will be written down in history books next to men who would rather deny my existence.
In that moment, in my epiphany, I began to wade barefoot through my soul. I began to find pieces of myself I didn’t know where lost – and is that not courage in itself? Finding the corpse of your soul, buried beneath a cruel, mercilessly pale agenda?
          
Is speaking the truth not brave?
So I set down the straightener, and began to live.
This was my English narrative essay that I know I'm going to be marked down for. Let Peace, positivity and light live on.
Lawrence Hall Feb 2019
Genderqueer contesting histories climate apocalypse social activist make a tax-deductible donation today starting at the advocate level inextricably to reexamine his legacy linked black gender-ambiguous social and political struggles behavioral economics Afro-futurist vision of decolonize this text white boy spear-heading queerphobic witch-hunt singular surrealities queer Shabbat dinners dialogue this trope diversity Rawlsian diagnosis basic earth cooperative existential Marxism for our times starting at the advocate level inextricably to reexamine his legacy linked black gender-ambiguous social and political struggles behavioral economics Afro-futurist vision of decolonize this text white boy spear-heading queerphobic witch-hunt singular surrealities queer Shabbat dinners dialogue this trope diversity

BAM! BOOM! THUD! SNAP! BURN! FACT! S.T.E.M.! CRUSH! SNORT! SCHOOLED! WHAM! OWNED! BOOM! THUD! SNAP! BURN! FACT! S.T.E.M.! CRUSH! SNORT! SCHOOLED! WHAM! OWNED! BAM!  THUD! SNAP! BURN! FACT! S.T.E.M.! CRUSH! SNORT! SCHOOLED! WHAM! OWNED! BOOM! THUD! SNAP! BURN! FACT! S.T.E.M.! CRUSH! SNORT! SCHOOLED! WHAM! OWNED! BAM! BOOM! THUD! SNAP! BURN! FACT! S.T.E.M.! CRUSH! SNORT! SCHOOLED! WHAM! OWNED! BOOM! THUD! SNAP! BURN! FACT! S.T.E.M.! CRUSH! SNORT! SCHOOLED! WHAM! OWNED! BAM!  THUD! SNAP! BURN! FACT! S.T.E.M.! CRUSH! SNORT! SCHOOLED! WHAM! OWNED! BOOM! THUD! SNAP! BURN! FACT! S.T.E.M.! CRUSH! SNORT! SCHOOLED! WHAM! OWNED! BAM! BOOM! THUD!
Your ‘umble scrivener’s site is:
Reactionarydrivel.blogspot.com.
It’s not at all reactionary, tho’ it might be drivel.

Lawrence Hall’s vanity publications are available on amazon.com as Kindle and on bits of dead tree:  The Road to Magdalena, Paleo-Hippies at Work and Play, Lady with a Dead Turtle, Don’t Forget Your Shoes and Grapes, Coffee and a Dead Alligator to Go, and Dispatches from the Colonial Office.
Lawrence Hall Sep 2020
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/

                      Decolonize Unpacking Actualization

Let’s unpack the cliches and hyperbole
The nuclear option and we’ve got this
What we know now we have our options frontline
Off the table Armageddon option

Privileged out of an abundance of caution
Like an actual warzone actually
Or forging a road, a path, a plan
(Says he who never saw a blacksmith’s forge)

Decolonize decolonization
And actuate actualization

(By blazing a trail that unlocks the future)
A poem is itself.
Lawrence Hall Apr 2019
Upon Reading a Patronizing Review of Ferlinghetti’s Delightful and Revelatory Entertainment, Little Boy



The only problem with the Proletariat
Is obeying the pretentious ***** that
Insist on calling us the Proletariat -

Resist their Insist!

For I will not be labeled by some artsy-crat
Your ‘umble scrivener’s site is:
Reactionarydrivel.blogspot.com.
It’s not at all reactionary, tho’ it might be drivel.

Lawrence Hall’s vanity publications are available on amazon.com as Kindle and on bits of dead tree:  The Road to Magdalena, Paleo-Hippies at Work and Play, Lady with a Dead Turtle, Don’t Forget Your Shoes and Grapes, Coffee and a Dead Alligator to Go, and Dispatches from the Colonial Office.
Shysta  Apr 2015
=Carpe Diem=
Shysta Apr 2015
Revamp yourself first...
Because ur young and free and you have dreams and desires to fulfill with utter gratification.
Because you want to do something meaningful in this world to gleam ur identity , to make people know who you actually are , and to where you belong.
Keep expanding ur horizon ,
decolonize your mind ,
and cross borders cause at the end we only regret the chances we didn't take.
Stop Existing.
Start Living.
Carpe Diem :')
“Don't you ever get the feeling that all your life is going by and you're not taking advantage of it? Do you realize you've lived nearly half the time you have to live already?”
Lawrence Hall Dec 2022
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
LogoSophia Magazine – A Pilgrim’s Journal of Life, Literature and Love
Fellowship & Fairydust (fellowshipandfairydust.com)
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                          The Decline of the British Empire

Whatever happens
We have got
Shakespeare and Milton
And they have not

But this is what
They have got:
A strong economy
And we have not

(Based on a bit of 19th century triumphalist doggerel, attributed to Hilaire Belloc and others, about the Maxim gun. And let The People shout, “Decolonize these lines!”)
Z Atari  Jul 2020
Untitled
Z Atari Jul 2020
Wanna be an all American!
As my corpse tries to jump out of it's dead brown skin
The fair foundation has been working again
Our experiences have been exactly the same!
Hearing your hesitancy in the pronunciation of this name
roll it out like the Princess Bride- all the words every time
Reinforcing this breath I will be the punchline but
Can you cry a god back into your heart
Rolling like thunder behind your own title
Whisper it back and then still be rid of the shame?
Decolonize a spirit with  Raid™️
Keep only one tongue and let the other one fade
Lawrence Hall, HSG
Mhall46184@aol.com

                     End. Stops. Employed. As. Arguments.

Learn. To. Code. You. Had. One. Job. End. Of. Fact.
Decolonize. This. Place. Best. Job. Ever.
Burn. It. Down. Get. A. Job. Not. In. Our. Name.
Not. My. King. Not. My President. Spot. On.

Worst. Day. Ever. Votes. Have. Consequences.
What. Could. Go. Wrong. It. Begins. Heads. Will. Roll.
O. M. G. Let. It. Go. This. Isn’t. Over.
Come. And. Take. It. Not. Just. Shut. Up. Just. No.


Shut. It. Down. Let. It. Go. I. Have. No. Words.
This. Ends. Now. End. Of. Story. Grow. Up. Full. Stop.
Lawrence Hall Dec 2022
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
LogoSophia Magazine – A Pilgrim’s Journal of Life, Literature and Love
Fellowship & Fairydust (fellowshipandfairydust.com)
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

              Universal All-Purpose InterGossip Post Response
                       for The Year of Our Daily Mail 2022

Tinder box iconic cannon fodder
iconic clown show iconic clown circus
iconic clown car iconic clown train
iconic absolute clown show train iconic
he didn’t get the memo iconic
you had one job iconic I have no words
iconic new and selected iconic
subvert iconic at its best iconic
I’m getting the popcorn iconic much
iconic subversive iconic witch hunt
iconic fairy tale wedding iconic
unsung iconic what could possibly go wrong
iconic there, there fixed it for you iconic
FACT I’ll wait iconic oh, wait iconic
snake-oil salesman iconic taking the world
by storm iconic all aboard the crazy train
iconic you could google it iconic
tightknit community iconic worst
case scenario iconic Tinder box
iconic cannon fodder iconic
he didn’t get the memo iconic
you had one job iconic I have no words
iconic new and selected iconic
subvert iconic at its best iconic
much iconic subversive iconic
witch hunt iconic fairy tale wedding
iconic unsung iconic what could
possibly go wrong iconic there,
fixed it for you iconic FACT iconic
I’ll wait iconic oh, wait iconic
snake oil salesman iconic taking the world
by storm iconic you could google it
iconic tightknit community iconic
worst case scenario iconic end of
iconic quelle surprise iconic wheelhouse
iconic dog and pony show iconic
iconic in the crosshairs iconic
jaw dropping iconic supply chain iconic
decolonize iconic post-colonial
iconic neo-colonial iconic
just dropped iconic unshackled writers
iconic quagmire iconic not out of the woods
just wow iconic facepalm iconic
LOL iconic pulled out all the stops
iconic systematic racism iconic
systemic racism iconic structural
racism iconic RINO iconic
Demoncrat iconic Republicrap
iconic bombshell iconic game changer
iconic wow iconic just wow iconic
end of story iconic tight knit iconic
field day iconic perfect storm iconic
winter wonderland iconic
ConnectHook Oct 2020
OCCUPY GENDER !
DECOLONIZE REVOLUTION !
DRIVE thru their INTERSECTIONS !
SCIENCE IS LOVE
BLACK LIVES IS REAL
NO HUMAN IS MATTER
LOVE IS HUMAN RIGHTS
WOMEN’S RIGHTS ARE EVERYTHING
KINDNESS IS ILLEGAL
On the bus, on the way back, he thought about his house and Dn's. Adolfo, being able to see one on the rise and the other on the decline, in the hands of a survivor. Ludwig ...: What a pity ..., I'm going to torture or I'm going to glory. I only have their memories, some of their belongings to talk with, and I myself have chosen not to be scared by what would make me forget all circulating waver and be a great achiever. This profession that alternates me with people and does not isolate me, complicates my conversion. It was not long ago in the unfortunate death of that trampled animal, it reminded me of other severed deaths, and without forgiveness. Or those vainly confessed by the one who in his concept of sin, no matter how great his nature, repentance that always languid at leisure, makes his act sinful. Definitely, there are several protectors of the conscious sinner, who in doing so re-crucifies that Lord. The bad must reach out to the good, even if betrayal lurks with his infidelity.

In the afternoon when he was hesitant to sneak out of his musings, some custom remained to ease him, more well-ventilated oxygen in his head, centrifuging the Free Radicals. And the dark stain that blinds the flow that dominates him, that makes him feel without language to describe the crushing that often ends him. For more than half an hour he was like this until he wanted to move his legs and was able to move them, but where ...?, Maybe very far, towards a place where he has to jump savoring the stained airs spread around. Anyway, everything could be there, but when he became disenchanted, he saw parts that indicated that he would arrive very soon to the field that in his abandonment was decolonize some bird legs and the fallen fruits ran on arid soil, manifesting a grandiloquent regret. Upon arrival, he looked at the surface and thought he had never been born, he walked out to the proximity of what had never been stained before, this immense Garden similar to the grasslands of South Africa, with its flowery steppes and its precocious warnings to reserve a continent for the future. Hunger, thirst, and sleep were withdrawn, only his eyelids moved. Up and down a window was hit by a wind that tried to unlock it. In addition, the walls were vigorously sheltered by tree elephants. I see myself laughing and I remember myself, maybe some wind is going to sway my hair, or I am going to touch the search for the not found.

Ludwig is overwhelmed, like an ahistorical identity, foreseeing any moment that spills over into his time and goes with all the silences in the world. His rigid complexion bends his sickly body at the incapacity. Everything smelled of subtlety and purity, the spirited detergents linked the beginning and the end in communion. The inevitable image of Antoinette with the encrusted pigment of her forms will hang from the top of love, towards the wakefulness of unspeakable dreams. He talked and laughed with her, he never ran out of her, not even when he got into any discussion because there was none of her and there will be none of her. If there is something necessary is to retain the beauty in remembering it ...? In that same instant, he left the memory of her and went to find her. He says that it must be kept for posterity, everything neatly in the neat white sheets that my superior members will caress. He walked to the outskirts of the Prehistoric Park, which at more than one moment appeared in his mind the present shadow of someone he loved, with his harmonious and veiled countenance. Long days of confinement, if he needed something in the kitchen, he ran out to buy what his mother in a hurry ordered him. And to this day he does, but now he is going to buy him shoots from the highest mountains, to reappear in him the height of his loving son.

Before the house of Antonieta, he is and struck with some nervousness. Very deeply she breathed herself, and when she rubbed the palms of her hands very wet, she more she became restless. Time passed and no one opened Ludwig insisted, but it was useless, no one opened. Then he knocked on the next house, opening a dark lord for him. The one with the cigar on his lips, almost swallowing it, told him that they had moved from the neighborhood. Actually, his mother suffered a lot from her cough. Ludwig, thanks him and says goodbye, before leaving he looked at the house and continued to his destination.

At no time did he expect a voice to appear, like the one he saw approaching at high speed, such as a racing car. As he resumed his march he turned his foot violently, emitting a noise similar to a nuance of Antoinette's voice. He looked around her, not seeing anyone like her. It was getting late, fatigue was taking him home. As he passed through the Park, he entered to see that famous Geysers Fountain. Clear reasons had such as being old-fashioned and a bit abandoned because she gave him the sense of friendship and love, and he did not want to lose once again a reason to live. He said to himself ...: That something positive is that here everything is in optimal conditions, just as Antonieta should be. And just the voice attacks ...: "What you can think, tell it, since what you have read was all recorded here ..."

Ludwig ...: So fast, you're here again ...!
The voice ...: Yes because you are more alone than before. I fear that your soul will be mute, and I will be seriously threatened!
Ludwig ...: This passage of life and the world is a powerful vice, wherever you go to take it; he will do with you what he wants.
The voice ...: Yes, ... Yes ... but you should not fear, you are big and strong. Don't let it scare us more.
Ludwig ...: Enough is enough, I only know that their quantities are excessive. I can no longer receive vices involved so that they finish us off.
The voice ...: You're dead, you've been like this for a long time. For this reason, you will not develop the vicious virals of the apocalyptic subsist, you will only digest food without flavor, and what is liquid will appear solid. Here's something about the feeling that you can't explain. A moment ago I feared the threat, now a difference is emerging.
Ludwig ...: What ...!, How to explain the dead? He ran out of the park to his house. When he relived that situation, he seemed greater than usual, he feared a greater fear, that is why he ran in terror. He came in saying ...: Dad ..., Mom ... Where are they ...?

When he reacts, he realizes his madness, it is that the black curtains plowed and frozen as if making him pay a debt. As usual, he lay down on his humus bed. Again the sunny awakening washed away the dirt. There was mercy, there was love on the part of his faithful and irreplaceable vegetable valley, of immeasurable goodness
Weirdly Emigrate Chapter VIII

— The End —