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Daniel Long Dec 2018
Much madness
is divinest sense –

An eye that hath discerned the severest madness,
according to Emily’s judicious eyes, hath much sense –

The starker lunacy
be equated to divinity –

‘Tis common, unwritten law that we assent common beliefs
And ‘tis uncommon beliefs that common law demurs –

In this, as all overcome,
The stoic few as she will come –

Sanity hath common sanction
Or, you’re forthwith a risk –

Touched by a chain
And bound in shame –
A  tribute to the famous poet Emily Dickinson. I chose the poem "Much Madness is Divinest Sense," authored by her. You will find references to the original piece, but I put my own little wordplay on it with rhyming. Enjoy!
You breathe in day by day, inside a cage that tightly wraps around you like skin.

And you ask yourself in desperation: "Who am for I that speaks?" - Don't look down they always say.

You'll just be met by strangers anyway.
Jamie Newton Jul 2018
Let’s talk about life and let’s be frank
All global strife starts and ends at the bank

With fake inflation and monetized debt
It Cripples our nations, controls us through threat

Now let me be formal and you might think me mental
But free markets are normal it’s really the Central

Creation of cash at a click of a button
Valued at trash, your debt they take cut-in

War for resources innocence left in lurch
While weaving clauses to suppress free energy research

The influence is deep, insidious at best
Our lives they will reap seen as figures to invest

It’s a perfect legal sin That we do not deserve
Its the evil of Central Banking and Fractional Reserve
Bank ethically ❤️
Kathryn Crowley May 2018
This poem is now a song on https://soundcloud.com/musicalroutes

Soft day in general
some went off to pray at the cathedral
In our way we gave thanks
Sunset end of day temple riverbank.

Your eyes shone full of life
Living the dream in the west
where you believed that you had a choice

Remembering
Savita
Oh
gentle vibes forever flowing wild.

So how many more must Ireland lose?
How many more before stopping the abuse?
Don’t follow blindly crazy preachers
Healthcare  basic feature.

Remembering Savita
Oh gentle vibes
Forever flowing wild.

Lack of true compassion must be a virus
Cults and politicians just desire us
But today the cure is here
Light will replace
Light will replace the fear
For every woman
Future generations.
For a free download of my song, go to my Soundcloud page or send me a message if you'd like me to E-mail you a copy.
Emily Rowe Apr 2018
when i got my first period,
i was thrilled.
marked with the crimson ****** of womanhood,
i was no longer a little girl.
i was no longer too young
to be a part of the whispered gossip filled conversations
of the women in my family.
my sister and i could share boxes of pads and tampons,
bottles of advil and naproxen.
i was no longer too young to go bra shopping,
too young to understand.
i could read Teen Vogue and relate to every word,
i was a woman.

no one told me that it was now okay.
it was now okay for men to comment
on my new chest.
it was now okay for boys to yell their
tube sock dreams of my wider hips.
no longer protected by the shield of childhood,
it was now okay.

while i experienced many new things
after that first visit from Aunt Flow,
i also began to feel things i had not felt before.
an unexplained, unwarranted hatred of
the body i lived in,
my burden of anxiety heightened
with raging hormones in my blood,
mood swings worsening the monster
living under my brain named depression.
red spots on my face that boys liked to make fun of
as if their faces were not acne warzones themselves.
another growth spurt, as if i was not already towering
above the other girls in my class.

“don’t let anyone see your pad when you go to the bathroom to change,”
my friend whispered to me at school,
“it’s inappropriate.”
“don’t say period in front of boys,
it’s gross.”
“don’t talk about puberty,
boys think it’s unattractive.”

suddenly i realized that my body
was not for myself
and it was my responsibility
to act like I didn’t feel like there were
earthquakes in my ******.
it was my responsibility to hide my new body,
because my education was not as important
as the pervy boys in my math class.
it was my responsibility to not bleed through
my new jeans,
and miss class because i’m crying in the
bathroom as i call my mother to bring me
a change of clothes.

because being a woman is unattractive,
but when she’s half ***** on the cover of ******* we like it.
because spreading your legs open for a ******
is gross,
but when a man is in between them it’s hot.
because a woman’s body was never for women,
unless it’s ****** and crampy,
then we don’t want to hear about it.

i am here to say that Womanhood is for women.
i am here to say that young girls should take pride
in their new bodies.
your body is yours and no one else’s
and you should never feel ashamed of it.
you should never feel shame
when the crimson wave comes.
Sean Achilleos Mar 2018
From deep within the light is born
From deep within comes a brand new dawn
Authentic and unpolluted by thought
Far away from the traditions that man has taught
When the whole world breathes in synchronization
To become one breath
Merged with all of creation
Illuminated like the evening star
Shining bright from afar
Darkness causes the light to exist
In balanced contrast are the keys on a piano played with great bliss
The ebony and ivory creates a melody
Your life song of harmony
Where Love is a top priority
Sprung forth from the Falun Gong philosophy
Written by Sean Achilleos
16 January 2018©
www.facebook.com/SeanAchilleosOfficial/
Amazon: Sean Achilleos 'An Affair with Life' The Philosophical Poems of Sean Achilleos
YouTube: Sean Achilleos
Hadiy Syakir Oct 2017
Kudos to Kaepernick.

I just cannot drown all my beliefs and ideas, even if it contradicts my flesh and soul. When I heard that not standing up to the tune; that has always succeeded on sweeping all of the messes underneath the sad reality, to be deemed as subversive, I know that Rosa would definitely clench onto the seat tighter than ever.

Kneel, my friend, kneel.

To drag our body out there, all over the precious hills and fields, while acting as if the scale has always been set fairly beneath you all this time, will hurt you more than myself. How can a mere matter of things decide our future, our destiny? We shall shape our fate, you shall shape your own fate, and to be judged on the perception biasedly built in the name of order for thousands of years, is a situation that should not be endured by anyone or anything in a tiny dot within this vast universe.

Kneel, my friend, kneel.

And for that, I cannot stand proudly and profess my love to you as of now, even though I will always wear my heart on my sleeve for you to see. To be cheated, to be manipulated, to be deemed as surplus, by those at the tip of the plateau, that cunningly asked us to forget all the tangles and wrangles for the love of this sacred land, while unashamedly distribute everything off the land, off the ocean amongst them, is the last thing that we should allow to happen. I am one of those that can't simply put on the mask on top of our meant-to-be honest faces, to say hail to the thief is worse than the eternal grief. I have never dreamed of burying the hatchet with them, not even for a second and if I ever do it, I shall be condemned and dismissed for forgetting the roots, the fons et origo of mine. To love you does not mean to stand still to the soulless melodies, to love you doesn't mean to bow down to the meaningless piece of cloth that has overseen countless infiltration and bombing over the years.

Kneel, my friend, kneel.

To love you is to fight for the rights of many, by any means, even by not standing up. When black is no longer the symbol of miserable, filth and calamity, we shall then breath with ease, stand on our feet and fully embrace the real meaning behind all those majestic words.

Kudos to Kaepernick.
tm Dec 2016
melanin molasses, the sweetest courtship attracts the ones who have never glittered
white bullets love to kiss black skin
black on black crucificton, a gospel orchestrated by the higher powers
****** puddles lay with the concrete during the darkest hours
night bullets play white doves during the matrimony of the bottom barrels life and its fast stint.
honeymoon candles lit by the masters matches, africans seek this artificial light in times where heavens white lights could greet them with a smile and roses that are wilted.

- t.m
matthew Dec 2016
Excuse me sir,
Please enlighten me
Why is it that when I don’t find your **** joke funny
It means I have a ‘bad sense of humor’
But you don’t have a bad sense of morality?
Excuse me sir,
Please educate me
Why is it that when a white man ***** an unconscious woman,
He only got three months in jail?
Because he was ‘a good athlete’
Excuse me sir,
Please ask me
Why I need my feminism
I need feminism,
because ‘boys will be boys’ is being used to justify ****
Because if I decide I want to wear short shorts,
Or heels,
Or even red lipstick-
I am ‘asking for it’
Because if I am tipsy or unconscious,
I am ‘asking’ for you to take over my body
‘Asking’ you to violate me in the worst way you could
Because **** is being justified.
Boys will not ‘be boys’
Boys will be held accountable for their actions-
Just like everyone else
So Excuse me sir,
Don’t tell me **** jokes,
Don’t tell me how Brock is a good athlete,
Don’t tell me that I was asking for it,
Don’t tell me that I should ‘consider myself lucky’,
Or that I should have enjoyed it
Don’t **** shame me,
Don’t tell me it’s not a big deal,
Don’t belittle ****.
It can happen to boys,
It can happen to girls,
And everyone in between
It can happen to you,
Or to someone you love
Excuse me sir,
Please
Don’t justify ****
Gaye Jun 2016
Mickey,

I will not get guns for Scout and Finch to shoot
the blue jays, I will not raise them with guns, ever.
I want to read them Eddie’s messages to his Mum
Before ‘he’ came and killed him, them, killed us.
They should learn what the world felt next morning,
Let them weep, sob and finally feel love, for our world.

This is where I cannot compare myself to people,
I weep as I write to you, my bones weak, skin tearing,
The 20-year-old girl did not understand but agreed
With your Mum when you said “even rapists don’t
Deserve death penalty”, it took me three years to
Realize and not agree with your Mum’s Spanish TV.

I didn’t sleep yesterday night, I watched a film with A,
At night, I could hear the boys screaming from
Tents of their Afghan allies, the scream, pain and
Moaning an elite clout wanted every night.
I threw up dinner, they called it their ‘culture’, I-
Couldn’t look at those boys dancing with bells on feet.

There’s nowhere I feel safe with Finch and Scout,
When will ‘he’ feel love and not think to “fire who?”
I fail every day unable to scream, being a coward, but
I feel good, sense hope when I see HUMAN BEINGS,
I feel exactly what Kern felt when he saw Valentine
Walk safe from the ferry, I feel home, I feel safe.

Maybe that's what people call peace
Maybe that's what people call bliss
I need sleep, I want to sleep peacefully.

Love,
Gaye
13th June 2016, 10:56 pm
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