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Garrett Johnson Mar 2020
Tempted Significance.

Zero moments did I say wait.
As for the forsaken channel decided to be draped.
In electric blue.
Only to be draped back into clouds.
Passing foothold on lonely function.
& twisted return in waves.
Lay shy in the face.
A cryptic respite.
Embraced by the wolves in the atmos.
Of all self being.
Self too clear for comfort.
& too silent for silence.



Garrett Johnson.
took to Gold Bar and back.
GENERATION EQUALITY

It is equality when you work with her.
It is equality when she leads the team.
It is equality to see her, think her and call her the boss.
It is equality when she promotes her accomplishments.

It is equality to pay her the same as him for the same job.
It is for sure equality when you give her credit for that brilliant idea.
It is totally equality to admit she is more competent so she gets the job.
It is equality when she has an opinion and is confident to make it known.

It is equality when deciding for herself is norm.
It is equality when bias and stereotypes no longer define her.
It is equality when her achievements are no longer firsts.
It is equality when she is well represented in critical areas of concern.

It is definitely equality to treat her with respect and dignity.
It is absolutely equality to fight alongside her for peace and justice.
It is real equality to be her allie, support her future openly.
It is surely equality for her to reclaim and take up spaces.

Not just a woman, not just a girl, not just because she is your mother or wife,
Not just as your sister or your aunty, not just because she is your daughter,
But as the very evident, clear as day Human that she is in this generation and
Generations more to come.

An integral part of a collective whole, we all need to better uphold.  
Each one responsible, Each one acting consciously, Each one shaping up,
A generation for equality.

Belema .S. Ekine
belemascribbles
It is International Women's Day 2020. Gender equality, gender parity is the way forward for our generation and the world. Let's be secure enough in ourselves to play our part in encouraging and promoting equality for women and for all.  We are stronger, better and more enabled together
hazem al jaber Mar 2020
Ring for a kiss ....

it's a time ...
to start this lovely day ...
with a sweet kisses ...
starting from souls to bodies ...

it's the time now ...
come let's take it ...
to share it ...
within our souls ...

it's a time now ...
let's keep kissing ...
with no bore ...
til we reach ...
the sky above there ...
and there ...
to create ...
between clouds ...
the poem ...
of us ...
with a crazy lips ...
that never get enough ...
from a sweet kisses ...

hazem ...
Grace Mar 2020
What is this normal we’re all seeking?

Has anyone ever found it?
Maria Etre Feb 2020
I slipped and fell from reality
Going down, I saw the silhouette
of myself waving back from the cliff of reality
getting smaller and smaller

My fall carved the air
with a bundle of chaos
dense with fear
and weightlessness at the same time

I am lost
between letting go and wanting to go
everybody goes at some point anyway  
between waving goodbye to what's better
and saying hello to what's bad
between loving to love, and loving being loved
or both,
I am lost between loneliness and aloneness
between confidence and bitchiness
between opening my heart and keeping it
and giving it to you, naked, want it?
between sobriety, and faking it
I am scared of changing and I am attracted to change
of walking away, when walking is my favorite hobby
I fear losing something, when there was nothing to begin with
I am addicted to turmoil, I lather my skin with recklessness
I inject my veins with the soothe intoxicating taste
instability
I question my lust for instability for chaos
for heartbreak and heart-mend
for unreciprocated love, for ... everything that doesn't make sense
I question my fabrication of a future, before I even say hi.

I am confidence wrapped in anxiety, that wears me like a gala dress
hugging my curves, with self-doubt
I am fake, a hypnotized being, programmed to smile
to blend, to speak less, to love less, love like that,
to compare, to compete
I am tired
Nat Lipstadt Feb 2020
oh no!

another fateful overlooked poem title,
ensconced in a message not initially gripped tight enough,
the entitling command, the wish, this commish-on,
angry for having been ignored, overlooked,
calls the poet out, what, a deadline missed again?  

again.

an inherent compliment contradiction,
the well wisher, wanting an enlarged heart, like mine,
is wise in the ways of double meanings,
knows full well, that the enlarged heart is burdensome,
that weight of those afflicted with enlarged hearts,
walk with the stooped bent of responsibility.

so I write and weep, weep and write,
what a thing to wish for, defer it, deter it,
and yet here, I affirm it!

for in my possess is a sure and certain knowledge,
that a new born girl, has surely already stretched the measurements
of Pradip’s own heart’s boundaries, no wishing necessary,
a natural occurring phenomenon, a first grandchild grasped,
raised up to the light on high, a chemical reaction, an eclipse so
when the body’s brain commands it minions,
ordering messengers, sent to every province, to every *****,
piercing every cell’s shell with a kingly commandment scroll:

heart! all body parts!
grow, enlarge, engorge, for a fearsome wonderful injection of love arrives, a new baby will heartily enlarge, make room for more.


the wonderful burden of love.



<>

a commission satisfied. perhaps I will sleep tonight...

Feb. 10, 2020
2:04 pm
Adamu Danjuma Dec 2020
The society rejected them.
They were ejected from their homes.

Disjointed hands.
Broken legs.
Pitiful faces.
Mournful silence ...
They cried and felt like crying again.
They cried again.
They yawned and felt like yawning again.
They yawned again.

They are the homeless children you are seeing here and there.
They are the hopeless old men and women you are seeing in the mornings and in the evenings.

No one cares to give them a chance to emerge on the surfaces of the earth and win more wins.

They are those beggars and street-boys.
They were long time ago mercilessly molested by the tryrans and their allies.

Today and tomorrow,
And the days, and the years, after tomorrow:
Let them find some places to rest.
Give them a place in your heart to find solace.

They have no sugar.
And they don't seem to have tasted its sweetness.

To drink tea,
They use a handful of their tears.
In lieu of a comb,
They use twigs.

They have no perfumed clothes.
Theirs are torn shirts and hats fumed by the vapour of a cooking ***.

To watch a movie,
They use a mirror.
Through it,
They see nothing than their faces.
They say mirror is their television.

The poignancy of poesy shaped their potentials.
Under the influence of the Poet, a plume spoke:

'I dream of a society where the less privileged ones will enjoy freedom and financial independence.'

With the above in mind, the less privileged ones would be considered as an integral part of the world.

They are capable yet they can do zellions of amazing things.
Give them chances to thrive.

Their yesterdays saw them famished.
They were once hopeless.
God blessed them.
Smiles of courage and hope illuminated their faces.
They were once neglected as well as segregated.
They need to be encouraged and supported.

On their education enough money should be invested.
To enable them learn skills and acquire sound knowledge needed for self-development and progress across the globe.

Adamu Danjuma
Every child counts
Nat Lipstadt Feb 2020
love gripped light

~ for r, sleuth of life ~

you sleep with a metal detector,
unearthing dreamed artifacts,
that messenger many fates of many young,
belongings of dead men living again

and

of a living solitary man, a vision of him, envisioning,
dancing on a property line dividing
immortality dreams
and finality schemes

dead men living,
these different men, haunting and roaring, sighing pointlessly,
speaking to you alone, pithy commentaries, they, predecessor poets,
someone’s ancestors inhabiting a soil world familiar, awaiting we too

you whip yourself over life’s lost campaigns,
where strategy proved insufficient,
lost to men and materiel superior in numbers,
the hearts that were captured, imprisoned, stolen,
and worst, lost by grievous bad judgement human weak,
your dreams are you own artifacts, recovered

long after the battle smoke clears, you remain,
questioning not the how, where or when, only
was it worth it? and so sadly,
you answer yes.

you keep a record of your poems, losses,
each battlefield has no victors, only losses,
each poemfield has no victors, only losses,
it tires you so, to be guardian, the promise keeper,
you asked for burdens, you got just desserts awarded,
you share some, the ones under the pillow,
gripped lightly and tightly, simultaneously

with long distance lovers of your soul,
those you barely know, until met in red soil someday,
what matters it, they ken a kinship bond, and
love you oh so lightly

and they are

gripping you so lightly/tightly with the lightness/tightness
of words,
two book bound souls.
one shared spine...

2/10/20
100 Centre St.
NY Criminal Court
1:38
Let their scent not
attract devastation;
Fallible stems and petals,
Ego of a garden
With a possession
yearned by eyes
rubbing hands at
their growths spectation.
Let their base clench
only the goodness within
the soil.
Their bodies know
the palm
when time's right.
Let the truth given
to them steer their blooming
like the voice repeatedly
reminding them what not
and what to do
Amen.
A dedication to all the flowers who never lost their worth...all around the world'CHEERS'
Faizel Farzee Feb 2020
I rest beside you,
breathing in sync, hearts beating as one
I get lost in the splendor that is you

Love surges in kaleidoscope of colors
we see them through wondered eyes
unspoken truths singed to our souls
this love eternal we freely share

I breathe in your essence
the life blood of my being
a nectared aroma
i inhale with every breath that i take

Your lips a cherrie wine
i willingly drink to a stupor
a senselessness ,
leaving me aching for your touch

you are the air that i breathe
my oxygen in a choking world
a promise adorned by Angels
a promise in this moment ,we will never leave.
There are magical moments
in this dying world , grab onto it tightly
even with words unspoken
it's a feeling that words can't describe
a moment to be enjoyed.
a feeling to be kept unbroken
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