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My mother would often suggest I sleep on it.
Presumably mulling over all the possible outcomes whilst dreaming.

We were raised with anxiety, my mother was a live wire; adrenaline primed our hearts to avoid judgment, or catastrophe in an uncertain future.

At this very moment I am  living in the now, and in love with all living things, no-longer afraid; no longer clinging to the illusion of control, in an uncertain future.
The wondering spirit, travellers, settlers, settling down, roots
TIZZOP Jan 28
tizz is love it or hate it, nuttin' in between
addicted to yayo like sheen, 500 bpm heartbeat
don't do it anymore, but remain psychotic
and hunt down idiotics like a carnivore

from florida to berlin, from tropic to toxic
deep in da game, da grimy streetz know my name
it'z tizzop, 14.8 inchez of hip-hop

hangin' at rashid'z, shisha ready, cuban necklace
three men in da back but ya don't know who it iz
all of 'em are dark-skinned, all of 'em are bearded
most important of all: all of 'em are fearless

we don't know what it meanz to be scared
just some migrantz who will now be heard
da territory split up: kurdz, arabz and turkz
we got our own law, like omerta, like da cosa

one apartment here, and one block' there
like bushido did, back in da dayz wit fler
sonny black carlo, godfatherz, yeeeah

power is about makin it and takin it, unlike nine said
unlike any other guy said, and if ya don't wanna buy it
find ya eyez in da wine-red, da choppaz are wild catz
ya can use them for da furiouz, some become notoriouz

otherz don't and die, but dey will be honored:
watch da muralz; urban networkz, also in da rural,
and five-o just remainz neutral; it is crucial to be brutal
as it iz to remain truthful; lyricistz can't deal wit diz
g-boy attitude of tizz: letz celebrate diversity
and ante up on google, i write barz and do diz
i'm a little too youthful for these oldskoolish
Dave Robertson Aug 2020
I can stay and die
or I can try to go where angry folk don’t want me

Death, or raging pink faces
is a choice of sorts,
but still no place, no home

So, beheading, or maybe hanging,
lynched by dragging,
or if lucky, shot alone,

versus locking up in a green walled facility,
****** as it may be,
until someone takes a moment to judge me safe,
is luxury

Or maybe I’ll be deported,
doomed,
I struggle to see your view against me

As a young brown man I know I’m done,
I might have a degree in medicine
or years of fixing cars or houses, horses,
understand trade or charity

It won’t matter
when my photofit
reminds you of another brown man
who blew himself up or lashed out with a knife,
for a misread life and afterlife

A few white lives will always tip the scale
where hundreds,
thousands,
millions of ours,
despite your fears
will not prevail
Peter B Sep 2019
The say: "Without you all
the world would be a better place.
No dead bodies washed out on the shore.
No guilt of those who failed to help."

They hate us,
they wish we didn't exist,
they shout "Go to hell! You **** of the world!".

They say they won't help us,
it's impossible to help us all.

But when they see a sinking boat
capsizing under our weight,
something tells them to send the patrols
and bring us safely to the shore.
Yuki Jun 2019
To all the people who
leave their homeland
to escape from their lives
unaware that they
won’t make it alive
on the other side,
oblivious to the horrific
idea that they will
scream and cry
while watching their
babies drown and die:
may the waves carry you
in a better world
than the one in which
we are living now.
Azizah Dec 2018
are like some people,
they are victimized to death
within one's palm
they're taken down and thrown

they had power
but no more
human eyes show pity
for picking them,
but not humanity

pressed flowers are they
who sleep under the tents,
walking for decades,
searching for new hope
cause it's crumbled back home.
K Balachandran Feb 2018
a fast moving cloud,
soon becomes a flock of birds;
migrants in frenzy!
Peter B Feb 2018
How beautiful would be the sea
without these dots of human lives?

Let's leave them there,
it's wrong, I know,
it breaks my heart,
it breaks
my
bones.
I can't believe my own words.
It's not me who is saying this,
it's someone else.

No, it's me.

Sometimes
you do things you'd never do,
if you weren't here,
if you weren't you.

Let them drown,
let them rest in Peace,
for this place
is the worst to be.

how beautiful would be the sea
without these dots of dying life?

How beautiful would be this world
without us,
who let them die.
The poem was inspired by the news that "Italian Coast Guard let dozens of refugees drown" (Independent, 8.05.2017)
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