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She loves to play with colors,
and her favorite is blue.
She loves her blue jeans,
a gift from her mother.

Her mother works
in a garment factory,
where women are paid
less than men.

She dreams of a world
where colors don’t fade with injustice.
Gender-based inequality thrives where rights are unequal and voices go unheard.
We were born in the forest,
Living in the shadows,
Clinging to our loved ones
In the dark, under the trees.
Life was good then,
We had picked fruit from branches
And swung on them for joy.
And there was no greed
Or jealousy.
Over millions of years,
We lived in harmony,
Until the forest changed;
The garden shriveled and
Faded away as we watched.
Our lives were rearranged.
Some among us ventured out.
Giving in to our sin: curiosity.
We turned the grasslands
into pavement and stone
And we endured pain to walk
Down in the street, surrounded
by canyons of concrete and steel.
The powerful gather now
and hoard what was once shared.
Hors d’oeuvres are served,
Placating the hunger of the omnipotent,
that is never stated;
They will keep taking from us
As long as we allow it.
Even as they wallow in wealth,
They plot to plunder riches
and destroy the world,
scraping the land
and scouring the sea.
But one day, some loner, a rebel
May emerge from the shadows,
Dark-clad, filled with inchoate rage.
He will find like-minded souls
Who use the new machinations
To topple the oligarchs,
Empty their accounts
And give them to the world.
Chaos may follow,
But out of it a new humanity
Might arise.
A memory of what humans used to be, what horrible things they became and the hope that humans might decide to live as they once had, using progress to help each other.
Sara Barrett Nov 2024
Growing up, a girl watches, learns,
The truths of boys and men—
so often unturned.

“Boys will be boys,”
a phrase we know,
implying girls must shoulder the load.

Girls mature fast,
women pick up the cast—
an unspoken burden, a silent decree:

Bear the weight of their irresponsibility.

In a world gripped by misogyny,
women face judgment,
their futures unclasped.

Absorbing shame for games they play,
men walk away, free to go their way.

Homes abandoned,
men now free,
their true selves unknown.

Disgrace drapes women—a heavy yoke,
neglect shatters hope.

Promises unkept,
fathers vanish as children wept.
Guilt escaped with practiced ease,
duty dodged, a ghost on the breeze.

Children and wife he never knew,
society laughs at the pain he withdrew.

Children carry his woes—
identities shaped by the hurt he chose.
Shame shouldered early,
remembering blame.

Love claimed,
but never there.
Strain felt in his name,
unfairness echoes.

Abandoned women and children grow—
a daunting endeavor men overthrow.

Shadows linger, burdens remain;
a future carved where hope will maintain.

Every struggle faced—a dawn,
strength carries on.
The poem “Left To Carry His Name” delves into the profound burdens that women and children endure as a result of men’s irresponsibility. This poem critiques the societal norms that enable men to escape accountability while women are left to shoulder the emotional and social consequences of abandonment. Through vivid imagery, it conveys the shame and struggle experienced by those who are left behind, underscoring their resilience as they strive for a brighter future. As the second piece in a series focused on gender roles and family dynamics, this work invites readers to reflect on how we can confront and change these deeply ingrained societal expectations.
Zywa Oct 2024
Mama's day passes

uncomplicated, she just --


follows dad's schedule.
Novel "Gut Symmetries" (1997, Jeanette Winterson; Gut = Grand unified theory), chapter The Fool - Alice

Collection "Loves Tricks Gains Pains in the 80s and 90s"
Cast your ballot for your party's running mates
Strange bedfellows in Roman
**** compromising positions
Straining to see what once was
Their original clear-cut goal

(Even the hot sand of the
Sahara becomes cold at night).

Tarred and feathered goes the ideals
Run out of town on a rail of policy.

Politics of law
Politics of religion
Politics on every level

No real friend’s only polite interests.

Party politics in the bedroom
Workplace
And church

Spinning ethics and morals
To be fit for desiccation
By whatever spider desires
To make their web in

Palace royal
Church pious
  Courtroom solemn 
Family room secure

Where only a sort of twisted gestalt
Applies and the lesser of two evils is
Often greater than the sum of the
Two--the package being more
Important than the contents.

All that
Is important is the law of the jungle.

Tone-up poser muscles
Groom rhetorical fur
Sharpen intimidation fangs

Demagogic rule being the rule of thumb
Firmly planted where the sun never
Shines because truth is exposed

Only in the light. Plans made in the
Nether regions of base instincts

Where the true nature
Of we humans reluctantly steps
Out of its ancient cage nightly to
Prowl only to return by morning to
Have pure and honourable melodies
Sooth the savage breast.
©2017 Daniel Irwin Tucker

The danse politico of existence.
Inspired by a U.S. presidential election campaign
Zywa Jun 2024
The board of their game

is the garden, with servants --


being the pieces.
Novel "The Enchantress of Florence" (2008, Salman Rushdie), part 1, chapter 3 – Pachisi - at the court of Emperor Abdul-Fath Jalaluddin 'Akbar' (= 'the Great' >> 'Akbar the Great')

Collection "Low gear"
Zywa Jun 2024
Words are for the word-

people, she says, you are free --


to just do your job.
Novel "Victory City" [Vijayanagar >> Bisnaga] (2023, Salman Rushdie), part 1: Birth, chapter 4

Collection "Low gear"
Zywa May 2023
Am I elitist

if football is new to you --


and I explain it?
"Ik bel je wel als ik dood ben - Gesprekken met Armando", 2011-2018 ("I'll call you when I'm dead - Conversations with Armando", 2023, Cherry Duyns)

Collection "Stall"
Zywa Apr 2023
A trunk full of coins, countless
too many to use them in some way
We dispose of them properly

by putting them away for later
in a safe place, buried
under the ash in the middle of our town

We have enough, with the cattle
the pans and the women
who we capture across the border

The men, we trade
for jewelry and silver
that way we get rid of them

without having to ****
or to fear a rebellion
After all, life is hard enough already
Slave-trade
• In Gotland, Sweden and Finland, a total of around 90,000 Arabic coins have been found, which the Vikings have received for the slaves they captured from a country with a "Slavic" language
• Even before Christ, there were many slaves in China
• Under Emperor Augustus (27 BC-AD 14) there lived 4 million civilians in Italy and 2 million slaves
• In the 19th century, the Arabs removed 20 million people from Africa as slaves

Collection "On living on [2]"
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