Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
As we are
Famed for hypocrisy
Do allow us to
Lecture you
About democracy
Though we know
Prior to us
You have the practice
In the timeline, upstarts
Usurping the know-all
Permit us
About democracy  to
Goad you please!

The divide-and-rule
Machiavellian gesture
As an adventure
We admit
And still exercise it
Fomenting
Ethnic-based conflict.

We adore to fish
In troubled water
To sure meet
Own objective faster.
Just like a canopy feeder
With our wings
Eclipsing the water
Striking out light helps us
Unsuspecting fishes  
To pick better.

In a
System of governance
And religiosity
You took the lead
But our piece of advice
How to dine, how
To put on attires
You have to heed,
Forget not
Boiled-wheat aid
You may need.
Disgraced, it is better
For food your pride
You barter.

Don’t think
Humanitarian issues
Or aid
Is what  first comes
To our head.
The economically weak
Their mind we—
Hooligan hypocrites—
Don’t
Allow them to speak
Leave alone
Their own roadmap
To design and
God-bestowed
Wealth to tap.
Worshippers of devil
Head- to -toe
We are evil.

It is our duty
To exhume a
Terrorist party
That shows alacrity
To execute assigned task
The reason behind its back
Remiss to ask.
TPLF is our right arm
We don’t want
On it to happen
Any harm.

We don’t mind
For genocide
A hotbed TPLF members
Or dissenters may find.
Introducing
Modern colonization
Is our covert intention. ///
For those who poke their nose in the affair of a sovereign country
DElizabeth May 3
There are cracks in the mask
because there are cracks in the foundation.

Hazy,
what was it all like before we divvied our nation?

Mother's and children
helpless in separation.

Give me the good news
when all I see is complication.

Who decided what's ours isn't theirs?

Crossing, drowning, they're running out of flares.
Ben Heart Mar 23
Caught in the midnight streetlight glory
The deprived lay bare, shivering in the streets
Wrapped in blankets of steaming yellow snow
Out of sight is far enough to remain out of mind
Only the white right is entitled to authenticate their rage

Lay your broken child to rest, in their welcome grave
Paid for so generously, by the Imperial NRA
Who knew schoolchildren and congressmen
Bleed the same, to a disputed death

So afraid of the wicked, social state
It's okay if we make our prosperity pay
On the backs of blacks, we made our beds
But it's not up to us to pay them back

Those we sent to fight for us, lay awake in torment
Who could have known, that the greater curse was coming home
We don't have the time or the mind to treat you
If you had laid down your life for your country
At least we’d call you a hero on your tombstone

We have become oversaturated
In who’s name disgraced
To the point where we condone the genocide ‘abroad’, online and televised
Where the blind have truly led the broke, to the ledge
We'll always be okay, should the right price be paid
Laokos Mar 14
a shake weight table steak
powdered sugar cigarette
break burning in alcohol
and corn flakes

a big ******* cluster-****
of broken noses and carefully
crafted poses posting pictures
of processed hipster's and blisters,
****-stirrers and culture twisters
jockeying for a spot
all melting in the ***

quiz show **** beads and
fleshlight teenage dreams
soaking through entitled
suburban screens choking
on plastic screams

chocolate dipped cancer fingers

city bus exhaust lingers

prescription bottle salvation bringers

and underneath it all the bible
belt girdles the gurgling masses
of glazed diabetes and frosted
faith pooling in the belly of
America

a fat flabby mess of
snake oil boiling
in stomach acid
and pesticide

"welcome, honey! grab a seat
anywhere you'd like --I'll be
right with you!"
Chevy Carroll Mar 14
What is black, more than evil in the night?
Souls tainted by darkness, ravens in flight?

The colour of all nothingness,
Yet everything a person is,
I am not black, but inside I'm so empty of bliss.

Black is beauty, black is a tone,
There's nothing quite polar yet similar to white in its own.

With shadows come light,
Hidden from view in society.
Discriminate, incriminate,
Black is more than a variety.

It is a culture,
A life,
An identity,
Someone's strife,
To die at the hands,
Of someone,
Who doesn't understand.

Where there is shadow,
There is also light.
Shadow is darkness,
Much like the night.
Light is the beauty,
The love in our sight.
For every hateful man,
Is a hated woman who fights.
I am white. The experiences are not my own. Black people are black, brown people are brown. It's not difficult to write this. Identities are not exotic, so exotic terms are not necessary. Sun-kissed is to describe a Cali guy, not a person ethnic identity.

Anyway please tell me if this is insensitive as I am not a POC and thus don't have these experiences of my own.
***** Hands
Are they clean?

Pontius Pilate, washing those hands that night, now are the filthy deeds made white!

America, do tell about the politicians blind-eyed toward homeless people in the streets, tell me about children starving to death?

Does a wealthy man cleanse hiimself as the blood leaves his hands?

Banning guns & glocks, as girls
are sold into slavery, in the blocks.

A gift for kids to go to school
It's not a gift to get shot up.

From poverty to bullies to school shootings, Mrs. Liberty has lost her footing.

When we go home, locking doors and turning the noise up, is washing of the hands with soap, making us whole?
You can't just wash your hands as a symbol
of making yourself from sinful to cleansed. It's a cruel world so be kind. © 5 minutes ago, Venjencie Clifton Arnold   society • poverty • sad • pain • misc • love  
Like (0)
Karambitties Mar 7
Waiting for a drop to trickle down while these ***** on top drown.
The 1% ****** up the whole ratio
got people breaking their backs
like auto-*******.
Just to make ends meet.  
Like Ricky, he was working towards that American dream but
behind the scenes life was
coming apart at the seams
all because of a fault of his genes.
Uh-oh
Couldnt afford insurance,
and there all his savings go.
Spending eighty thousand dollars on pill that MIGHT save his life.
But wait, what about
dear Ricky's wife?
She was right there by his side
Watch him rot for months
'till the day he died
now she's empty inside.
Forced to swim in high tide
with no buddy.
She can't cope, even with that hollow feeling she can't float
Starts sinking deeper in the drink.
Thrashing in the dark
with lungs burning
there's no room to breath.
Foreclosure notice on the door
Say her and the kids need to leave.
Back to the grind with
no time to grieve.
Just another cog ground out
by the American machine.
So ******* much for the
American dream.
Just the ravings of a weak minded, socialist, anarcho-******, long hair, looking for a hand out like every other ***.
The Calm Feb 23
I pray for a day
When we don’t have to turn pain into power
I pray for a day
When we don’t have to feel shame or cower
The sweet promise of freedom
In our stomach turned sour
Massacres and mobs
Hold torches screaming *******

I pray for a day
When we all rise up
Lungs filled with blood or sea water
Will you drink from my cup?
Can you weather the rain?
Can you carry the pain?
Can you listen to the voices
Of the ones that were slain?
Bodies left broken on trees
And pulled to the depth of the seas
Bodies injected with disease
And necks crushed with knees

I pray for a day
When we can grow as one
Power and pride
And second to none
In strength and stride
With no fear of a gun
That can take the life
Of another mother’s son
The first stanza talks about the consistent owning of the pain people in the black community have to do. Owning words that were once meant to demean us. It talks about how all promises of freedom made to us were followed by actions showing the opposite.

The second stanza mentions a line “ will you drink from my cup” comes from Matthew 20:22 when Jesus asks Zebedees sons if they can drink from his cup. Can we take the pain that is necessary to move our people forward. Can we not only accept the pain of our current struggles but those of the past. Not to bear them forever but to hold them long enough to understand why we fight for freedom and equity.

The last stanza is hopes for the future. An equitable one, where we can fight from the same playing field. Where we don’t have to fear gun violence
Next page