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God is comfortable with diversity
God sees straight
As well as crooked
Black as well as blue

God recognizes
And appreciates each of us
Who walk on earth

Think of another world
Where judging others
Rules the day

What does it look like,
Look around you
It looks like today’s world

Might perceptions change
Where people see each others
With total wholeness
Respecting others
While dropping away
The compulsion
To categorize

Might perceptions change
Might people view others
With wide-eyes
Accepting crooked and straight
Black as well as blue
And become comfortable with diversity
*from Richard Rohr, Just This
A simple handshake
between two so far apart
Yet in this solitary clasp
New friendships do make
@LadyRavenhill 2019
Shane Leigh Jul 24
It’s hard to breathe under the clearest blue skies.
All the gazes,
I can feel them,
And I’m sick of their eyes.

Their words,
although not many,

          they hurt.

Though there are few,
I hurt them more than they deserve;
because I hide,
I fear being alone
but I always leave them alone.

Is this what it's like to be different?
Is this what there is to look forward to?
If so,
          then I'd rather face the blue skies,
              all the gazes,
                  I'll feel them all,
                      and I'll remember how I hate them.
Hello! I'm having some trouble thinking of a title lol but I do hope you enjoy the poem none-the-less.
Enjoy (:
© Shane Leigh
Makeup on,
Makeup off.
Beautiful voice,
Raspy Cough.

Modest or bold,
Wears a hijab.
Model-like body,
No six-pack or abs.

Masculine tomboy,
Wears fishnet-tights.
Regardless how we look,
We still have rights.
Desire Mar 8
Our oppositions are subjective, yet
we're subject to our opinions
but differences deepened by
developing diversity is false dominion,
proving one thing to be true:
Neither of us get the final rule.
Human supremacy is a construct,
freeing me to believe in a higher power
outside of me and you...

If neither of us are supreme, then who?
Mhelaney Noel Feb 16
The American people are lotuses
Grown out of the murk
We’re periwinkle pretty, but we have residue on some of our petals
And one could drain the swamp, but we’d still be in it, withering in the harsh sunlight
They could select only the fairest lotuses to be preserved, but nature would be disturbed, mutated
The indigo birds that drink our nectar would be betrayed
Then they too would leave us
And leave the aphids without prey
In the absence of deep pink flowers nature would start to cave in on itself and white-hot turmoil would fester and procreate
So invaluable to us is our gradient of flowers
They were meant to be part of our roots, their magentas and mauves keep us balanced
Keep us from turning over into the muddy water where sunlight cannot grace our petals.
This poem was first published by the America Library of Poetry in their 2019 student anthology, Futures.
Bruce Demos Feb 11
Green, black
This day lacks
A flower surrounded by mud
Dirt, meet Flower
Grow, love
Shlomo Jan 30
I’m everything and nothing

For where do I belong

Everywhere and nowhere

Life feels like death

To me, and it seems

Death feels like life

If only I could disappear

Gone from this earth

And slowly reappear, in hopes of a rebirth

To free myself from this pain

In a world of no disdain

With pleasure and infinite gain

This fickle life of endless monotony

I yearn to be free from;

To be in a world of transient diversity.

This skin that I love and hate,

In its real and abstract fate

Was once brown, now black to date.

It seems the winners are losing

In a backwards upside down world

Where the losers are winning.

If I could turn back the hands of time,

I’d go back to the year zeros

In hopes of a restart and some new heroes.

To take everything from the every ones;

Some Robin Hood type ****,

And give something to the no ones.
For more poems and stories, check out my site!
Brandi Dec 2018
Black and White
Ying and Yang
Light and Dark

If we match to be good
Then why does the sun rise and fall in rhythm with the moon and we fall in love with it?

© 2018
Brandi Keaton
Lori Nov 2018
she climbed her golden throne and sat with power clinging at the tips of her fingers and anger pouring out of her sight. She took a breathe and you could see from the way she was moving that she was an embodiment of strength and that the roses that covered her kingdom were just beautiful thorns hidden behind a diversity of colors. And she was a reflection of those roses, fierce but hidden behind her miscellany of beauty.
She was beautiful but she was even more strong
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