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Purcy Flaherty Jun 2021
Just a few thoughts.

Whilst colonialism by waring nations have steadily decreased across the globe.

(((Or until the next euro-war kicks off)))

Corporate colonialism has steadily increased, seizing power in society, using it's social and economic influence to extract resources; with little or no concern for the worlds fellow inhabitants.
That's because corporate colonial power has no stake, or little compassion for the welfare of indigenous populations or local economy's; over resources.

The super elite are so detached from reality, that they literally live in Alyssum; requiring just a small workforce and an army to realise production or the acquisition of global assets.

Our worlds leaders seemingly avoid all the negative consequences of their complicity in return for there compliance.

The welfare of the surplus population, especially those too young, or too old to work is unprofitable; and as such, is poorly funded, just enough to pacify the masses and stave off civil-unrest.

Globally there is a constant and gradual increase in funding pharmaceutical, mining and military sectors, with the support of the media machine; and a gradual decline in funding environmental schemes, health, and education.

(There may be big trouble ahead)
Nothing has changed for thousands of years.
Zywa May 2021
The level is rising around
the islands of silt
in the swamp, the fishermen
see their world widening
Old streambeds are also filling up
The wetlands become accessible
by rivers from the mainland

It is a ******* void
a gate to the sea, a chance
for the peat farmers and the forest people
to start trading, to build
dikes, quays, a city
with a dam
in the middle

People are flowing over
from the prosperous villages
to the impoldered land
with the new port –
not an old core that hungrily
conquers the surrounding lands
but their colony
• AD 1100, the beginning of Amsterdam
• Almere = Big Lake

Collection “New Ago"
Tran Thuy Anh Apr 2021
Today, hunger is staring at me gauntly.
Always at my elbow as I cradle my daughter closer.
Standing by my bedside when I wake up hollow.
Tapping on my shoulder while I pray on crooked knees

Today, hunger is staring at me gauntly.
Hunger that shakes each breath from my body.
Hunger that conceives what was once inconceivable.
Hunger that stops the movement of life.

Today, hunger is staring at me gauntly.
Teeth aching from root and bark, I swallow my saliva,
stretch out my arms, and vow someday
to end this hunger of mine.
Tran Thuy Anh Apr 2021
Light and smoke
blossoms from the barrel of a gun
as they lay waste
to the only home I have ever known
and stake their claim on this land
where my ancestors toiled under a smoldering sun,
wrinkles on face,
sweat on back,
callouses on hand.

Stolen plunder
rots in gold and marble jars
while I watch my children collapse
from hunger
and my husband hang himself
on that old tree,
watered by the blood
of generations
gasping for air
under the banner of the unfree.

Tonight, I cry out
to Mother, Father, Aunt, Uncle,
since the voices of my children have dried up
and my husband’s body has returned to the earth,
but I stand, an emaciated shell,
nonetheless standing
with one more scream,
one last sob,
another step,
I shall carry this banner until we all become free.
S Jan 2021
You scan me
With your Western eye
Standing tall, clinging
To your elitist lie.

With your righteous mission,
You desire is to teach me,
Yearning for my submission,
Refusing to free me.

The lies you tell yourself
Do not deceive me;
You claim to make me more,
While forcing less of me.

More?
More ‘educated’
More ‘cultured’
More ‘literate’
More Western.

More you, less me.

The volume of my voice
Is not primitive, nor savage
It is my culture, my heritage,
Which you have ravaged.  

My culture, my language,
My education, my literature,
Are slowly eradicated
By the standards of worth
You have dictated.

My language is not irrelevant,
Nor menacing.
It is my heritage, my legacy,
Tainted by your supremacy;
It is not powerful as Athena,
Rather it burns with the fiery
Passion of Nuha.

I will not be silenced,
I will not lightly tread,
For those who fake alliance,
Whilst wishing me dead.
Rollercoaster Jan 2021
We escaped the belly of the beast.
We weathered bludgeonings from across the seas.
we fought them with peace.
Together we wrote our own destiny,
we spelled out words of justice and equality.
We woke to self rule and sovereignty,
pledging to wipe tears from all eyes.
On an unfinished pursuit of our ideals,
our divided wounds continue to heal.
And heal shall they,
for we allow them to with our constitution.
A collection of our most-driven convictions.
We have witnessed wars and decades pass,
the technology grow and freedom last.
Tis nation of the Himalayas and the Malwa.
From the deserts of the west to the deltas of the east,
Liberty has been enshrined
& secularism promised in our revered book.
It is belongs to all of us,
in its mighty self and binding laws.
We, the people have rights that we exercise
and duties we fulfill.
We are not powerless,
we have the power - we are the nation.
I wrote this for the Indian Republic Day Celebrations in school.
Martin Bond Dec 2020
The only good thing about this dream is how obviously well it's been hidden.
JAATC Oct 2020
Revival of a revolutionary spirit
What I represent?
The Motherland of wisdom
BLACK genesis
Check the pyramids
My heredity IS
God-man manifest in the physical,
And astral and mental
Been mastered every plane of existence
Whole civilizations who understood the Science of Living
Tens of thousands of years before any 'westernized thinking'
An enlightened people
Way before colonialism
How you gon bring democracy (now capitalism in disguise),
To Afrika where it was invented?
And dress ya pawns as 'appointed' leaders
Devil oppressors
Erased our culture, history, and identity
Spiritual genocide by 'Willie Lynching'
Karmically tied to these modern times
I gotz to watch my temper
Lost ONE,
Who found refuge in the Buddha to be most skillful
But what happened to my people?
I just wona know
My whole life,
I was ashamed of being BLACK and didn't know it
Guess it was sub-compartmental
But through practice with experience
Of accumulated virtue
I shed dem old ethers
And broke me down
Psychological brick by brick and rebuilt me
Na I'm ready for war
Norman Crane Aug 2020
Every poet is a fake
eyewitness, peddler of make-believe hearsay,
A conveyor of love he never knew
in a city he never saw in a way to make you
feel the passion as if it were true,
He is an air-brusher of reality,
Thus a proselytizer of the Absurd:
That you can paint pictures with words;
That you can travel by verbs;
That you can conjure nouns by saying them;
That you can lead several lives within your only one.

Every poet is a fake
taxidermist, seller of second-hand stuffings
of souls that were never alive

Every poet is a fake
imperialist, would be explorer-***-colonizer
of the terra incognita of your mind

Every poet is a fake
poet
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