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Ander Stone Apr 11
You break your back
To plow fertile their
Squalid earth.

You sweat
under the wailing sun,
Beneath their barbed wire

You give your flesh
To satiate their hunger.

And what do you get in return?

A place for your head.

The chopping block.
thesuunest Apr 10
I'm sorry if I used lots of songs
[*** *** let me listen to this]
: It's been a while
A ***** is confused,
a ***** is a maintaining sanity
at the verge of insanity
a ***** is dead,
[ I can relate to said *****😂😂😂😂😂]

Melancholia, of a French man in the surrealist era
Giving me the little and big absurdities
💀💀💀I'm trying to maintain balance in this existence,
Could it ever get worse?
[ I have  zero access😭]
[😭😭how are you handling that]
[Could it???????????????]
[ I think I'm running mad]💀
It the capitalism,
it's the boundaries,
the black tax,
the **** riders
horse **** ******,
phoney *** ******💀
Only a free man is a dead man
or a madman
It's the matrix!!
it's the annoying HR,
an overbearing parent,
, everything all over the place
It's the loneliness!! the loneliness!!
of everyone everywhere,
it’s the holding on !!! The holding on!!
💀**** let me stop
**** my bad
I hope this makes sense when I'm sober
[ The **** riders for real]
[ These would make amazing song lyrics😂😂]
[No no😂😂]
💀 I've seen time crawl,
walk and run
seasons and weathers
decades in years
years in months
months in weeks
weeks in days
days in nights
nights in days
moons in nights
nights in moons
Buds in Flowers
flowers in Buds
Perks of a Wallflower
wallflowers on pecks

my *****💀
[But for some reason]
[I  Totally get you]

💀💀🔥 I have to journal this
[You must!!]
[ I am going to write this down because you😂😂]
I will post this on Hello Poetry
I will change promise you
I want to make good for the Good Girls
This poem is from a WhatsApp  conversation with a good friend of mine, the words in brackets are responses
ranveer joshua Dec 2023
A resonant gratitude streams through my veins,
Consecrated to my middle school heroines, deflecting
The whispers of shame.
But they taught me that I do not have the luxury of shame;
I have a voice, and I must amplify it––that’s what my mother said.

Elles m’ont protégée, blossoming my oneness.
I am here now because of them, I harness their divine feminine

Standing on the bones of my aunties, their anguish travels up,
Their histories following suit.
Beneath my feet, to my knuckles; charging my inner being
My spine is rigid, fortified with the duty––
To liberate, to reform, and to love.
“But my love,” she tells me earnestly, “this love, has been assumed,
Taken for granted, blended into the background of the White man’s portrait.”

My dun skin lives in the ambiguity of praise and prejudice,
And my sisters are dead. Exploited, first––then dead.
As were my mother’s grandmothers, when the Britons drew the line.
The assembly line, however, was an American invention––
Where the American Dream came to fruition. Commodified neatly,
‘Cheaply’ produced, and easy to swallow: fine [Black*] American craftmanship!

Her tomb
Stone, will be mined by her brothers.
He is unearthing the buried history, but forced to push coal into the fire,
Cremating the legacies of his own kin.

“So what are you going to say at my funeral now that you’ve killed me?”
Her lasts words, found amongst the ashes.
racial capitalism, intertwined with colonial and imperial histories.
Bugs Spencer Nov 2023
Wake up and I swallow
Instagram reels and dry pills
to help feel less hollow

Bite into tender flesh
sip on my blood coffee
their pain is still so fresh

New phone every new year
six marketable colors
screams fall on a deaf ear

My hair begins, thins out
checking all the labels
ingredients I do doubt

All we do is consume
no matter what the cost
dead families, no tomb

Wake up and listen in
They don't care about us
Money hungry eat skin
Ghxstcxt Jul 2023
All talk no action
not even a fraction
Surmount humility
Profound inaction
Abound rigidity
Tall walk short stature
The American way
Work force pays for the
CEOs big payday
Do as I say
Not do as I do
Under the guise of
"we want to improve"
It's so easy to see
their ego's fragility
with the words they use
Zywa May 2023
The gum bubble bursts,

people scream about profit

motives: blue ******!
"Trois couleurs: Rouge" - Fraternité ("Three Colours: Red" - Fraternity, 1993, Krzysztof Kieślowski), Valentine

Collection "Mastress"
Zywa May 2023
The Great Leader shouts:

We Are Great, The World Is Ours!

Who offers the most?
Collection "Different times"
yann Jan 2023
Proper lines at their proper place,
And in perfect time if you could,
Please, that would be great.
Rightful colors at their rightful place,
And in record time, if you
Sped up just a little, just a little.

I seem to have noticed your arms look slugghish,
Maybe you should add a bit of cafeine to your coffe.
I think we should get someone else,
Your dead eyed stare
Might start to affect morale 'round here,
Maybe you could go home a little earlier,
Without cutting at your hours.

Have you tried being glad for the opportunity ?
Have you tried being happy for the food on your table ?
What do you mean you wish for more ?

Meaning isn't part of your work, you know,

Proper Lines, and Rightful Colors, with
a Smile on your Face, a Bright, Happy, fried Coworker.

(we do want you quieter)
10.12.22 - being a machine
lj brooks Dec 2022
i don’t want life to be easy,
but i wish it were simple
i don’t want to pick flowers
to die in a vase on the table

it’s too late to retreat
it’s too late to begin
it’s too late to start over
i’m too broke to give in

i want it all or none
spend my days in a class or the sun
either a mansion or shack on a hill
if i could put in the effort, complete overkill

but they don’t want me to belong to the land
(only if i put a dollar in their hand)
so i am a little bit lost
a little bit lazy at a pretty large cost
and i want to know things but not out of need
fulfill my own longing, a curious greed

it’s too late to go back
it’s too early to die
it’s too late to start over
it’s no use asking why
can i only have just one?
rich exhaustion or penniless fun
i’m sure that some can,
but that someone’s not me
unless there’s something that no one can see

i’m digging for treasure
i’m not sure is there
maybe i’ll find it…
if i just change my hair
when i wrote this, i was hoping that a melody would come to me and it could be a song, if that explains the awkward rhythm (or lack thereof). still haven’t been able to think of a melody :/
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