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Kore Sep 16
redskin, cheekbones, upturned eyes
you call me names, pick apart my features
there's much for you to analyze

none of it good enough
even as you slit my belly and take my skin
you think me rough

wearing me like a hood you become
Pocahontas, Matoaka, Indian Princess
you think the thrum of your blood is the sound of a drum

you consume me, trick yourself
Redskin Princess
it's almost halloween and i'm already tired of pocahontas cosplayers
Arsène Sep 14
African American plight
Incessant fright
Dark days into night

Equality, a concept
unbeknownst to we
Or is it me
Not born locally
And speaking uncolloquially

Now disillusioned
For a society alienated
Is a society decapitated
And the people dilapidated  
When you turn a blind eye
And hope not to hear their cry

Malignant systems
Elected officials to fix them
When all they do is fix them
To individual greed
And the corporate elite

Disenfranchised youth
Incarcerated they lose
Communities gentrified
And families undignified
A Marginalized people
Seen as second class
But a man of colour is no different from another.
America is a county founded in racism, and it remains the root of social division today
I'm adrift
That is what I am
Aloof and unexpected
Enigmatic; an imalgam
A Spectre
Doubled fist
Amidst this conjecture
tempest Aug 16
little black girl

whenever I see a little black girl, I can't help but stare
and wonder

when is the day she'll begin to hate her hair, her personal garden, her roots?

when will her mother hold her soft cheeks in her tired hands as she weeps, for the kids at school told her to go back to Africa?

when is the day she'll purchase the creamy *****, destroying her roots but believing she shouldn't go back?

when is the day her mind will succumb to the beautiful golden locks of rapunzel or the heat kissed hair of our own idols?

when is the day she'll stare in the mirror and think: i hate my blackness?

i ask not if there will be those days, but when

too many of us black women can relate
we've been taught not to love, only to hate
our garden, our history, our personal roots
afros are bad, being a ****** is not cute

if given the opportunity, will we stand together and rise?
will we tell little black girls their hair is not their demise?

My worth is not measured on what grows from my head
Your worth isn't lost if a white boy leaves you on read
our worth is embedded in our ancestors' sacrifice
love your hair and embrace this life
Oscar Osorio Aug 13
“Oscar, de dónde vienes?!”
As I hear the rich ****** attempt my native tongue
My tongue goes native with quietness
A long stare, I don’t dare to say a word
I don’t care to even dare to say a word
I’ve gone through this before
I can write you a history book on the history
of me being discriminated
I can show you my profile on being profiled by you
Any season is a good season to give you a reason to question my allegiance to this flag
In Trumps presidency, it’s ok to ask this
It’s ok to ask if “I’m a illegal” because I don’t look like you people
I’m part of the 52 percent that get asked this because of my accent
But I will prevent you from hurting the minds of the innocent
You call yourself American but I’m from 2 of the 3 America’s with full knowledge of all Americas
My rice has more culture than your entire structure and whitewashed culture
Your ignorance doesn’t translate these rolling Rs that your daughters love
“Oscar, de dónde vienes?!”
As I hear the rich ****** attempt my native tongue
My stubborn tongue refuses to give in to your oppression
But for a second I catch my reflection and see my parents
I smile, “I proudly come from Ecuadorian parents”
And I walk away leaving the ****** red and embarrassed
Kay Anderson Aug 7
Sorry losers and haters but my IQ is one of the highest
Somehow I dont quite believe that but I am pretty biased
See I think you're a ***** Donald Trump I really do
Because what intelligent person would think the following is true
Muslims should be denied entry into the great United States
Surley by doing this you will go down in history as one of the greats?
Or by telling transgenders they can't serve in the forces
And doctors should be punished by administering abortions
How's that great big wall of yours currently going?
Have the Mexicans offered to pay for it or are you still not knowing?
Now I have to say I think your face is one big publicity stunt
So I'm just going to go ahead and be brutally blunt
Donald Trump I think your a
Why I am so Beat

Something about...the road, old shoes and sore feet,
motorcycles and wine,
greasy diners and last dimes,
half a stale Hoagie left to eat.
Man, that's
why I am so Beat.

Headed out west from town to town.
Dry-rot houses, faded signs,
Pioneers in rags, so behind the times.
This dead world keeps puttin’ me in a funk,
Pal, that’s why
I’d rather just stay drunk.

Girls and boys in every bar,
From Kansas to Colorado,
Hit me up for drinks and manila tar,
Trying sadly to feel what I do,
Man it’s hard;
That’s why I feel so scarred.

I came out west to find my soul
And saw emptiness instead.
Don’t ask me where I’m heading next,
Cause I don’t know.
I’m friggin hexed.
All I know is drive & drink & sleep;
Man, you know
That’s why I am so beat.

August 3, 2018
Inspired by a 50's series of pulp novels, *Why I am So Beat* Nolan Miller. I wanted to capture the same disillusion felt by Beat poets or travelers that the Hippies later felt.
AvengingPoet Jul 29
I don’t matter
But that’s alright
Just another speck
On this pale blue dot
Filled with infinite content
And I laugh and laugh and be entertained
Christ, is this all there really is?
Does any of this matter?
I don’t matter

I feel drained
Another day
Can’t even focus on the coffee cup
The only thing keeping me going
Is the falseness of this American Dream
Oh man I’m already a debt *****
But I’ll get through it
When I’m 50
I feel drained

But there’s no cause for concern
We wouldn’t wanna upset the status quo
Get a good job pay those debts
Can you breathe yet?
Probably not
No alarms and no surprises
The true American Dream
As you drown in the poison
But there’s no cause for concern

One last time for the people in the back
I’m having a heart attack but I made it to 50
I ate like **** and it’s my time to die
But I got my quiet suburban home
And a wife that I love
And 2 beautiful children
And a job I hate
One last time for the people in the back

Maybe I’m being too cynical
It’s not that bad
There’s tragic flaws surrounding the great US of A
But I’ve gotta be me, I’ve gotta function
Even if I don’t matter
I can breathe and that’s a relief
Maybe I’m just being too cynical...

Does any of this matter?
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