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Gary Cuming Jun 2021
Thunder roars through the empty halls
Lost, forbidden, in the dreams of the dead
Desolation descends to answer the call
Of petulance, compunction and dread

The horror of the night, haunts the moon
As it shines on the blackness of life
Earth disembowelled by all it consumes
Distorting truth, fouling Gods paradise

Death reigns hard, as love is defiled
His cloak bleeds a bleakness entire
The light of the world, left broken, beguiled
Transformed to filth, desperation, to fire
A M Ryder May 2021
The world
had to stop
For this victory
I'm joyus
I'm angry
I'm still angry
I want to bring black life
Into this world without
Us having to
Do this ****
I want us
To grow old,
Be unscathed,
Be unbothered,
And flourish
Words of a BLM activist
Raven Feels May 2021
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, I don't even know if I am her anymore:\


I am silenced beneath
dropped to rage in peace

I am aloned born
crafted head lonely worn

I am abused again
manipulated in blind to the said

I am saddened depressed
repressed too much till death

I am nightened a lot
mooned in the soul shot

I am painted black
darkened no rainbows seen back

I am cried tears
abandoned for good of fear

selfish no one cares
to see how human small I mere


------ravenfeels
xavier thomas May 2021
To most-
I am looked upon as a slave servant
No matter how my soul may
carry these values as armor

My “Dark Skin”
symbolize “servant”
In to many unknown eyes.
That’s their way of thinking.
The old way.

Them against I
I against them

Sooner or later,
Old ways will vanish
& come to past
Raven Feels May 2021
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, colors can talk too;>


it is in that exquisite essence on the back

that shivering sensation the veins in my feels lack

hearts appeal for them beats to unite in one track

fine lined my life in one trace in one blind attack

paint my sight into a favorite color of winter black


                                                         ­                    ------ravenfeels
annh Jun 2021
𝙱𝚎𝚗𝚝, 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝
𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜,
𝙷𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚙𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚋𝚢 𝚝𝚒𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎;

𝙻𝚊𝚙𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚐𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚛,
𝙼𝚢𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚜𝚔𝚒𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚕𝚋𝚊𝚗 𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚋𝚕𝚎,
𝙱𝚕𝚞𝚎 𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚜 𝚋𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚖𝚘𝚔𝚎.

“I’m a student of light,” Louis said.
“And a poet.”
“No, I leave that to Charles Baudelaire. My job is to capture things before they disappear.”
“Am I going to disappear, Monsieur Daguerre?”
- Dominic Smith, The Mercury Visions of Louis Daguerre
Soldiers Returning From the War

Red rivers to wade through,
heart sickened
at the sight of battle blood,
enemies and friends
fallen, never forgotten.
Bullet blasts and combat cries
in dreams, in the waking hours
of the returning wounded,
whose war has not ended.

James E. Roethlein copyright 2021
Jim is the author of two books of poetry "Musing on the Cricket Game of Life Part 1 1/2" and "An Extravagant Way of Saying Nothing" both available on Amazon
xavier thomas May 2021
its only wrong
because they don't expect you
to act on your emotions
Norman Crane May 2021
a filthy habit
drying in the sun / spotted
with little bits of nun
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