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neha Dec 2016
seconds, minutes, hours, days

spent hoping it was just a phase

as his parents sent him to a church where they'd say

"son, you better pray the gay away"

surely this "God" had far more important issues

than a boy in a closet with a handful of tissues

surely this "hell" was a place for far worse people

than a boy forced to confess his sins under a church steeple
Elijah Bowen Apr 2019
hate sings a love song,
blithe, pretty, little tune
in honor of its heritage.
hate sings sweetly, a song
of marches and hangings,
of ghettos and slavery
it hums admiration for its people.
it sings of this land.
the majestic peaks and playful meadows.
it sings, with love, of blood-drenched cotton and  
trenches adorned with crooked bodies.
it sings of its forefathers-  
the conquistadors and pioneers.
saintly butchers and child rapists.
hate paints it’s history holier than the Sistine Chapel,  
singing blindly like a hymn.

hate sings a love song,  
possessive and vicious.  
it scrawls the lyrics on
subway walls and sycamore trees.
it sings in symbols and metaphors,
accompanied by the beat of temple gunshots and kicks to the ribcage.
hate sings through the pulpit and the pew,
clipping it’s verses from a holy book,
it sways to the rhythm of “Amens” and “Hallelujahs”

hate breathes down my neck and yours,
knocking door to door,  
bearing music with a message,  
it weeds out the undesirables one by one.
for the greater good,
hate tortures children therapeutically,
and executes those presumed guilty.
it erases generations
in concrete rooms  
and in the bellies of ships.  
it explodes homes,
smashes panes of glass,
and burns every convenient symbolism.
hate roves and rages and spits and howls,
singing the song of a beautiful future.
Merri Kathryn Mar 2019
(...or, “to Mother”)

When I removed my mask of being straight,

She removed her mask of motherly love.

How could she, seeing 17 year old me, claim to have had no clue?

How could I, seeing 50 year old her, been so intentionally ignorant?
Adya Jha Oct 2018
My body is a temple
My bleeding is divine
My womanhood is spiritual
In ways that an intolerant devotee like you cannot understand
So when you barr me from entering Sabarimala
Remember that you can't stop a goddess
Saraswati is wise but her rage is wild and merciless
Lakshmi will create earthquakes that will devastate
Durga will pierce your heart with her spear
Parvathi will leave her abode and run into the streets
Kali will destroy you in unimaginable ways
They reside within us
We will cut our feet on your shattered glass
We will shout till our voices become hoarse
An army of neglected women will create a tsunami
Till you're on your back, crying
Till you give up your apparent 'religion-saving'
Helpless, wailing
And bleeding
The Supreme Court of India ruled that not allowing women in their “menstruating years” into the Sabarimala temple is against the constitution, and all women should be allowed to enter the temple. This was met with a lot of opposition from the conservatives and the entry of women into the temple was blocked by protestors.
Paul Butters Jul 2018
Things that bother me:
Here on Planet Paul
In my sunshine bubble,
With its tempering, shielding clouds.
Where do I start?

Well, let’s begin with half-empty glass people.
For them the world is but a wicked place,
Full of evil and corruption
Crime and drugs
Like Milton’s bottomless perdition.

So then they wonder why they suffer
From depression
As they whinge about every little thing
From plastic beer glasses
To the tint of my sunglasses
To everything I do
Or anybody else
Who seeks to see
That glass:
Half Full.

And then we have The Outraged
Flanked by The Offended:
The PC Brigade –
As sensitive as a swollen red foot,
Suffering from a bout of gout.
Constantly on the lookout
For the slightest smear
Against their race, gender, religion
Or ****** orientation
Or anything else about which
They have the proverbial
Chip on the shoulder.

Outraged, offended, outraged
You bigot, sexist, blah blah phobic
Piece of excrement!

Well sorry you lot,
Whichever clan you’re from
(Maybe both!)
For I refuse to go your way.
I’ll keep seeking all that’s good in this world
And try to keep that glass half full.
I assert my right to freedom of speech:
To express my opinion
And say what I think.
For “harassment” is inevitable
When there are people about
With differing views.
Not forgetting
That some are quite insane.

Each one of us is beautifully unique:
A thing to be respected
If only tolerated
But cherished,
In the name of Love.

Paul Butters

© PB 9\7\2018.
Well, that's that off my chest.
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