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Jack Jenkins May 2016
To be awash in the depravity of your own soul,
To be bound by a fetter in captivity to your enemy,
To lose the greatest thing we could ever have,
And call it all "very good."

Liberty and freedom, lies and falsehoods,
This people we have become, intolerant.
We have laid claim to unparalleled diversity,
All the while losing individuality, gaining isolation.

We have learned to **** freely and masquerade it as love,
While the greatest act of love- forgiveness- is buried beneath condemnation and intolerance.
Who are we?

We are a relentless generation,
Seeking a fill to the void in the fibre of our souls,
Prancing and skipping from one fad to the next,
Demanding rights for our wicked ways.

What is it that will finally quench our thirsts?
When will we start doing what we tell others to do?
Who are the people to finally break the chain?
We will all die alone.
A poor attempt at crying out to Western society's madness.
Juliana May 2016
I crave with all my heart to leave this place I call home, leave everything and everyone behind, I want to experience, live, learn , the new, the better.

I want to leave the ordinary, where everyone is the same, where I don't fit in, where I don't think like the rest.

I want self-growth, I want this for myself, to find myself.

How am I supposed to know what I want in life, what I like, if I'm stuck in this place, I  need to feed myself with culture.

I desire to go far away, far where I don't know anyone, far to the point I get scared as hell, and in that moment I'm going to know what life is really about.
-J
Trevor Blevins May 2016
Russian Duchess of Glory,
Chilling precision behind every turn,
And here I am cracking a joke because I can't even waltz.

Anna Pavlova,
Can you see yourself in the full scope of your beauty tonight?

Can we both stand to be witty,
Or find it easy to live past thirty?

Why is it always more elegant in the moonlight,
Regardless of the action,
From East Europe to the sad blue East Kentucky...

Have you once looked me in the eyes to judge how honest I've been in reading your history...

Oh, Anna Pavlova,
If you only knew that beauty would hold weight in modern reincarnation.
///
Still I wait for your autograph.

You who I dare to look upon through seldom borrowed books.

And if you pay regard at all,
To any of this, that is,

Then how much will you take hold of,

How long can you maintain your balance...

And are your pirouettes more acts of orbit

Or simply spinning out and away from me?
leinstinct May 2016
Nature in its perfection
Westernization just an immitation
The destruction of entire cultures,
thank you modernization
Ryan V Apr 2016
Off to the Races
On your mark, get set
No.
We are naturally wary of different
Our anticipatory
Participation in fear
Blinds us from the signs
That classification
Of the population
Fuels separation
In our great nation
And the degradation
Of our education
Through miscommunication
Due to deprivation
Of alleviation
As far as the segregation
Taking its formation
In our imagination.
These bounds we set
To set us apart
Take hold in heart
Because we impart
The notion of racism
Through our pride
Proud to be black
Proud to be white
Proud to be
Whatever it is that is me.
I’m sure it is right
Though I did not choose
No I wasn’t trusted with choice
I wasn’t given an option
No opinion to voice
I came as I am
I came as man
With no color in mind
Nor hate in heart.
No limits exist
To whom
They were never shown
Never taught
Through words or by deed
Never separated
Through race or creed
Disparity through diversification
Norms forming cult cultures
Secluded islands of identifiers
Imprisoned in our tradition
Caught up in the familial familiarity
Of being a drop in a raincloud
Growing heavier each summer day
Until the burden bursts
Out in thunderous roar.
And yet the race will remain
Runners at their mark
Pushing to get ahead of the pack
Forgetting there is no finish-line
Since it was never a race at all.
Observations of race by a concerned human
anna fernando Apr 2016
how to make milk chocolate:
first you heat the cocoa until it is fully melted
until being cocoa, warm and brown, is all it knows
then you pour in the white milk,
suddenly, then all at once
drown the cocoa in a new culture
drop it off in a foreign country
forced assimilation
until the brown of the cocoa starts to disappear
and it slowly turns lighter
and more acceptable.
you cannot keep cocoa by itself
because dark chocolate is ugly
thick body hair and crooked teeth,
no blonde hair or blue eyes
and bitter, making it good for baking
where it can be silenced and conformed
to the standards of the west.
to make a sweeter chocolate:
apply fair and lovely twice a day
combine milk and icing sugar
stir until no trace of the original brown shade is left
a cultural genocide
stir until the dark goes away,
and compliments start to come.
thread your eyebrows weekly,
don't touch the chocolate while it's on the stove
both will burn, however
one will leave you envying the girls
who copy what you were born with.
from kidnapping the cocoa beans from her mother fruit
to packaging it in plastic
for consumption by others who will never appreciate
the rich, impeccable culture you come from
a poem about being a south asian woman in a western country
Dark Ink Apr 2016
What happens to the little girl

who sits and wonders why? 

What happens to the little girl

who now can't even cry?

She destroys herself and those around

in careless acts of blunders. 

She hopes and waits for signs of help

yet no one even wonders.

6 months plod by tiredly,

no fear or hope for change. 

The little girl who once felt good

now feels but feelings strange. 

Her innocence was often lost 
yet always
remained her respect.

Until that fateful night of hers

that none would ever suspect.....
john shai Apr 2016
Doth yonder there on the facebook page
The saddest of people are in the happy cage
Where life is a mirage in paradise spent
And beauty is word **** from a friend sent

Oh my what's the news today?
If seen and forgotten it is hearsay

Doth here on hello poetry
The saddest of people are free to be
Where life is the search for beauty's treasure
And beauty is the truth wrapped in leather

Oh my what poetry today?
If felt
             strikes all pain away
the Sandman Apr 2016
I'm
             drowning
                         in light,
                In blinding light:
Lights on cars; and buildings;
and lit up trees lining lit up streets;
             Houses with sills all lined in gold
And diamond; silver glitter glued onto mould;
Street lamps; and laser pointers; and
Towers; neon lights dotted with flowers
Of plastic sun; hoardings and billboards,
With bright teeth and skin and red words
Everywhere you turn,
Telling you what you want
And never knew you wanted;
Shop windows; chandeliers;
Presents for that time of year;
Cell phone pylons with twinkling,
Bright lights on top, like Christmas trees;
Christmas trees, with stars and angels
Speckled, Frosted,
Dusted on the tops;
Disgusting glare on sunglasses,
And a smiting gaze along the arms;
Bridges and fountains with gold poured on;
Platinum bands in every size, laying all forlorn;
Bedside lamps; and taxis; and taxi stands;
Every window, but the ones
Being jumped off of;
TVs and refrigerators, opened
Thoughtlessly at night;
Screens shooting onto impassive glass
That used to be faces;
Cameras, going off in quick succession,
Quicker than you can keep up;
I'm drowning.
We are taught desire, in light,
We learn to read in light
and scarlet letters of fluorescence
We are blind,
Now that the road is paved for us,
To the light that was before.
Goodbye, jungle of pylons and scrapers of the sky. I will live among your shards no longer.

My first list poem (that actually remained a list poem by the time I was done with it)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uCzccXAF8Lo
Just some words on the run.
swift across the page.
fleeing from each
snappy slogan you
slip them into;
as is the fashion,
in the social media age.

Cash-bag that hashtag,
in your ego's account.
watch that self
worth multiple,
until finally you're
the apple of your
own eye.

For other's “inspiration,”
flash your bare
cheek ***.
for other's “motivation,”
show that six pack
muscle stack.
As if you're both
the world highest ideal
and  it's base foundation.

But, all that's wrong
is true of me too.
so just like them
pass me by.
After all, this whole
thing is more words on the run.
Not too sure. Good idea, but maybe needs some work?
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