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Julia Feb 9
i have an Uncle
he steals my money
he steals my ****
and burns it all
in front of me

i have an Uncle
who’s a misogynist and racist
a murderer and ******
a fascist and a terrorist
he stole my Fathers’ lands
he beats my Mother’s ****

he is addicted to white powder
black blood and green gold
he worships forces
to seize control
over every mind, body, and soul
my Uncle belongs in prison
but he owns those too
written on 10/19/18
...What does love look like today?

Love today looks like brown butter bourbon ice cream and sunlight
Like body oil on soft legs
And smoothie cream in even softer hair
Like breathing and disappearing in sheets
Like breast free of cups that don't hold me like the universe does
Like lips that taste of caramel
And a bedroom that heals in lavender
Like woman done waiting
Like woman simply being
Like body untouched, un-tethered.
IncholPoem Jan 11
Sometimes    your
time  may  be  bad
for dinner's  Christmas

   Sometimes   flying    birds
may  come  down
to  meet  you after
your  failure n  exam.

Sometimes   rushing  bullocks
may  return from
cultivating  land  to
fight   with   ox  for  ***.

Sometimes   tops may  not
move  on   palm
die   due  to rise
cost  of  palm oil.
Julia Jan 8
did u hear
what the president did this year?
and do u fear
that the ending is drawing near?

twin towers
now a blanket of dust
dead flowers
on the graves of the just

how many more
will they send off to war
for the right to explore
oil on foreign shore?

i’m not down anymore

i’m making a change
taking it upon Myself to rearrange
and i know they’ll call me strange
but knowledge is the most valuable exchange

soon we will all agree
that **** cheney
his head in shame
they brought our soldiers home just to replace them with drones.
a morning
of gratefulness
will heighten
my apple
or sprite
only that
one wakes
the ***
with golden
keys till
dawn flies
in rhetoric
with plea
of harmony
that properness
is parallel
as thee
a note on thrill
Jolan Lade Aug 2018
I need a mechanic.
Because you forgot me and turned my heart metallic.
You stopped caring and my gears turned rusty.
You never called and my display went fuzzy.
You don't write, you don't text...
Have you moved on to the next?

I'm standing still, sinking into the soil.
The rust is taking over, I'm leaking oil.
You sold me, and I want to cry but I can not.
You need to hold me, but you tightened the knot.
I need to cry but I can not, I am cold and on my knees.
Machines don't cry, so you told me.
I need you to be there, I need you to care.
Harry Roberts Jul 2018
To Make America Great,
When It Never Was,
Maybe To Return To Hate,
At Any Cost.

Black Boys Stung Up In Trees While Fat White Boys Tug At Their Mothers Sleeves.
Children As Slaves Just Not If Their White,
Breaking Their Jaws If They Dare To Bite.

Mothers Tears Made Worthless By The Colour Of Their Skin,
Still Happens Today Will Equality Ever Win.

To Make America Great,
Built On The Bones Of The Natives,
Crafted By The Hands Of "The Slaves."
But It's Always A White Man Claiming It's Brilliance.
Always The Minority Facing White Americas Silence,
Victimising Mexicans But How Long Before There's Another Victim?
People Aren't Proud To Be An American,
People Are Proud They Survived America!
Land of Lies
An open letter/poem
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