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somun Apr 2015
a milliseconds is need for knowing to me
a second is need for knowing to me
a minute is need for knowing to me
a hour is need for knowing to me
a day is need for knowing to me
a week is need for knowing to me
a month is need for knowing to me
a year is need for knowing to me
age to age are need for knowing to me
why I come in this world?
what is my main responsibility in here?
why I will die?????????????????????
Lydia Mar 2015
I'm 2 days late
I took two pregnancy tests
both
negative
a clear negative
apparently I really
do have a ****** up body
fifteen year olds get pregnant
everyday
with unwanted children
and
I can't conceive
even after months of
being off birth control
I've always thought
there had to be something wrong
with me
I'm the only woman I know
with a chest as flat as mine
and
weird stomach and intestine
issues at this age
I know girls who get pregnant
by drinking water
I think I am barren
but they say it's not true
since I was pregnant once
for 8 weeks
and then my own body
terminated it
for no reason
I couldn't have been doing more
of the right things
and it didn't matter anyway
My body kind of scares me
and now
I'm missing my time of the month
which has never happened before
but I know it's not good
I've been so stressed out
and unable to sleep
maybe that's it
It's times like these
I'd rather be anyone else
with a normal body
and a normal cycle
and a normal ******
I'm venting. Things have been rough these past two weeks and this isn't helping at all
Rhea Nadia Mar 2015
This is a man (Malcolm X) I believe gave our Black people confidence in times most needed. He extended common sense amongst scrambled minds and perspective to scholars who thought they had it figured out. His methods, must like a scientist. I'm speaking of the way he even compartmentalized subjects with much harmony and such fluidity. I respect the approaches he took to bind our Black people. I know that he held sincere compassion for the progress of our Black communities. This is why he weighs so heavy on us 50 years later. Probably heavier than ever, he resonates. He rises every time the consistent bullet of injustice pierces the flesh of our people. Each time one falls victim to ignorance or returns to the way they know better than to follow, Malcolm X is there. He is in our Black men, the rebellious hunger. The starvation and thirst will drive you to a point of discipline and control of self or the continuous massacre of dignity, pride and structure in the Black body. We are failing ourselves. We were once victims and for too long stayed that way. We are surely oppressed and have been for too long but we are not to feel sorry for ourselves. We are not to help the oppressor further press us down into our own graves. We are not victims anymore. We are not to allow others to sympathize for us. We are not the minority, they may say what they will. We have learned far too many lessons and we have had far too many teachers to continue letting this ignorance run through and destroy our beauty. Volumes of lectures, instructions - literally the key to rising is in our possession and we have failed generation after generation to seam our strengths and unlock what is already ours. We have been warned, it will not be an easy task nor a joyful journey. We will fight, we will bleed, we will not rest many nights, we will not look the same many years from now, we will not hold the same energy, we will not have the amount of time that we have at this very moment. The amount of time that we have to wake up, change and be better for those looking for answers 50 years from now. Like those before us, it is up to us to leave our words, power and visions as the foundation of inspiration, as the response for what our struggle has really meant and the love that has to be built to get us there. *

© 2015 Rhea Nadia
It will always feel like "Black History Month"
Kyle Kulseth Feb 2015
"I once thought I had mono for an entire year. It turned out I was just really bored."--Wayne Campbell, *Wayne's World

Pass this
        night un-
*******
                                            wingnuts­.
Opened
        casing
showing
                                 ­            my guts.

Fragmented seconds ticking, slipping
through the widening span
                                     of these small hands.
I've unlocked                         my innards
and the truth is out: it's mostly rusting gears.
I've wound down.                 I've ground up
days and weeks, upended months,
spilled crumbs
                         of my years
on pages, aging fast.
The faces show it's late,
                                        so late.

Time's up.
          Trickling
out of
                                        habits
Gutter
        ­   nights are
washing
                                         ashes
Into
                 Yawning
                                              Faces
fille­d up
                  with questions
                                              falling
f­rom the corners of
their weary, sunburnt eyes.

I'll tick off one more weekend, crossing
panels off a page.
                               Discard a month.
They've opened                    the archives
and the story's old, the golden paper cracks.
The faces,                               blank pages,
rifle past through volumes' deaf--
--'ning greys.
                        Intentions
forgotten, filtered through
the seasons' blurring hum.

                                              It's so late.
I know, I know: watches don't have wingnuts. Gimme space.

Intro Film Cited

Meyers, Mike, perf. Wayne's World. Paramount, 1992. Film.
PoemFalcon69 Feb 2015
An Elephant In Gray, A Pear In Hay.
Met Each Other On This Day.

An Elephant Pulled Out A Knife, A Pear Without A Wife.
Met Together With A Strife.

An Elephant In Gray, No Pear In Hay.
Left Each Other On This Day.
But The Pear Would Return...
In The Month of May

Ex Parte.
Sarah Salako Nov 2014
What does black history month mean to me,

Slavery and freedom,

A race fighting for equality,

The rusted chains and blood stained whips,

Over 400 years of this abominable cycle,

Love thy neighbor the words silenced in the bible,

I have a dream,

The dream that came true,

But only through the spilt blood of the innocent,

Their families left singing the blues,

Black history month is a month of the forgotten truth,

How one man's greed became a nation's nightmare,

And how we as humans must dream of freedom and equality too.
Now look, the horse is dead.
Must we dig up its old bones?
They are all around us
Fragments of the last few months
And I tried to pick them up
One by one
Figuring out how they all connected
Figuring out how they all broke
Piece by piece
And I tried to let them go
Last few crystal fragments of the past
They are all around us
Must we dig up its old bones?
Now look, the horse is dead.
Finally
Komara Wyss Sep 2014
I'm a free spirit.
Lonely and cold at night.
You have a wild side.
So I'll hold unto you with all my might
Komara Wyss Sep 2014
I don't mind being lonely.
It reminds me I can still feel.
Because after you broke my heart I wrapped it in steel.
I'm gonna start a new adventure. 30 Poems in 30 days. These will be short
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