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S Jan 2021
You scan me
With your Western eye
Standing tall, clinging
To your elitist lie.

With your righteous mission,
You desire is to teach me,
Yearning for my submission,
Refusing to free me.

The lies you tell yourself
Do not deceive me;
You claim to make me more,
While forcing less of me.

More?
More ‘educated’
More ‘cultured’
More ‘literate’
More Western.

More you, less me.

The volume of my voice
Is not primitive, nor savage
It is my culture, my heritage,
Which you have ravaged.  

My culture, my language,
My education, my literature,
Are slowly eradicated
By the standards of worth
You have dictated.

My language is not irrelevant,
Nor menacing.
It is my heritage, my legacy,
Tainted by your supremacy;
It is not powerful as Athena,
Rather it burns with the fiery
Passion of Nuha.

I will not be silenced,
I will not lightly tread,
For those who fake alliance,
Whilst wishing me dead.
Talia Jan 2021
To you, their rights
are a minority priority

You're entitled, spoon fed
Gorged with greed
a coralling disease

Dormancy
a fence that protects you,

but a barbed wire noose
                           wrapped
                           round their throats.

You're just another ring
in the chains of oppression
just needed to be said really. saddened by the inaction of humankind.
tried to play around a bit with formatting.
Philomena Jan 2021
Another day, another systematic nightmare
Commemorate a wonderful life
Bite me first, I'll bite you back
Melodramatic laughter
I stabbed a knife in my eye
Think I'm out my ******* mind
Brainwashed and I'm feeling fine
Destroy yourself it feels too good to fade away
Why, do I want to hurt myself?
Should I die for something else?
I let my conscience get in the way

Obey
We hope you have a lovely day
Obey
You don't want us to come out and play
Away, now now
There's nothing to see here
It's under control
We're only gambling with your soul
Obey
Whatever you do, just don't wake up and smell the corruption
Sabika Dec 2020
Who knew that this scarf on my head
Could make the rope that will tie my noose?
Who knew that this stone that
Kisses my forehead could turn into
The ammunition to crack my skull?
Who knew that my loose clothes could
Let in enough air to tear it from my body?
Who knew that my enemies would have the power to define me, judge me and sentence me?
Who knew that love would label me guilty?
This poem is about the oppression that Shia Muslims face not only by non-Muslims but also by other Muslim sects. It’s hard enough to be a Muslim, let alone a Shia.
Sarah Dec 2020
Once, the story goes
A few decades or so ago
In a land of silence
A few people gathered to roar
Pity,
All they wanted was to make a sound
To read a poem, and sing aloud
Once, the story goes
A few decades or so ago
Silence was pierced for a brief moment
And scarlet red stained the ground.
Sometimes the price of objection is death.

To all those who lost their lives trying to object, may their souls rest in peace.
Just Grace Nov 2020
They said

her tongue is too big
for a pretty little mouth like that

They wanted to cut it
as if it will give me more freedom
Change my mind
Liberate my sleep

Then they said
tape your mouth shut
Rip it from your lips then
remember that sting every morning when you wake
Build up that grainy residue
So that no amount of scrubbing away will change anything

That raspy, hazy din of voice–
It’s not mine anymore when you let it invade your comfort

Whose grating is it then

when I bend and it works
Your move
then it just doesn’t?

I’ll rest in my autumn warmth
wait for the drowning of winter
then after
I will warn you of Spring
Toya Nov 2020
Drag me by the bales
Like piled on the floor
Lead me to the depths of blue's envy
Relinquish those nightmares by bingeing good dreams
Free me with freedom that is not prepared
With the fingers caress the trails of my face
With the thumbs wipe my fear
This is about triumph
No victory
Just a trapped me
Wrapped- in white cloth
Emancipated Oak tree
An old slave picture brought me here. Thank you.
JAATC Oct 2020
Im tryna
Build a house of gold
But its a straw world, where dey
Freely give diseases and sell antidotes
World, INC.
Commercialised population control
No sovereign man, no sovereign state
Big Bank make the rules
The police are corporate agents
And prisons are big business
Under a government
That's been bankrupt for a century
My straw man is a Trust,
"MY NAME" in all caps on a certificate
As a Citizen
My assets, labour, and energy
Was promised as commerce to back this fictional entity
The fight is perpetual as long as we concede with this system
Really,
Is suicide escape or submission?
Wana vow to my people
To be there when they awake but its hopeless
*** in the near and distant future
I can see no changes
Fake smiles as a hypocrite
And all I can do is injustice
As long as I accept it
Is Man the peak of expression,
And is samsara his polarity?
In a non-meta way I aint happy
Red Robregado Sep 2020
O search me, inside and out then heal me.
I beg You. Search me to heal me.
Save me. Hold me. Don’t let go.
Take a good look at the place that I dwell,
See how my plight is being engulfed with great floods,
the waters swirling in even unto my soul;
Sinking into the violent sinkhole where nothing but doom awaits,
drifting away from the lighthouse, rock house.
Storm-proofed. Or so I thought.
For it seemed unable to withstand continuous, raging storms
Could it be that it was made from sand after all?
I ponder to know; but how could I know?
I have become foolish, as though, I know You not;
I have forgotten Your face, longing, but I see You not.
my heart is dull for my loyalties are wrong;
I’ve forgotten to eat daily bread, Your Spirit groans.
My throat is dry and parched,
My eyes shed streams of tear, all too harsh
They say, “Ask and you shall receive”
But I’ve been asking, searching, slamming the windows of Heaven
Yet it’s as if I'm still ever more drowning in depression.
Oppression.
Same old transgressions.
Wrestling with wrong questions;
Suffering in suffocating silence
with emptiness and nothingness as loyal companions,
Scarcely breathing in an ocean poisoned with my own thoughts
It taints my heart with unbearable numbness
Holy. Crippling. Sadness.
My life is in need of the Anchor,
the pseudo-anchors I’ve had are now shaken from their footings
My vision fails as I wait for Your deliverance and saving.
“Hear from Heaven!”, sweet, Lord, this is my 900th prayer!
I’ve begged You.
Still, I am begging You.
I am exhausted, too desensitized, traumatized to swim.
Come again to my rescue, teach me once more to
tread, stay afloat, or stroke. Better yet
pull me back to the safety of Your shore,
for I still believe that in this life and to the next, there is more
But only in Your presence will I see, what’s truly in store.
While life may now appear desperate,
nonetheless, I wait upon You.
I cannot afford not to.
For who is a pardoning God like You?
Or who is Mighty enough to save but You?
Who understands a thousand sorrows
and guarantees unending joy tomorrow?
Who can breathe life to the dead and
render death stingless?
I know no one — not even one — but You.
Your sovereignty over the storms that grieve me
will sustain me in my tears,
it is Your grace at work even through my shallow fears
And it’s not that You have not heard my cries. You have.
You have answered a thousand times.
Just that it’s not how I pictured it most of the time.
But in the midst of grace denied, I got daily grace supplied.
I know now that You truly know best
When, where, and how to apportion your infinite grace
to me and all the rest —
So, Dear Father, grant me the grace me to trust.
Satisfy me day and night with Your unfailing love,
as you have sworn to my fathers from the days of old
Cast my sins into the depths of the sea and
let these sufferings work for me,
Teach me to expect no less;
rather pursue faith in the midst of distress
for You are using it to shape me into Your image.
I am appealing to Your zeal for Your own name.
Quietly, I wait for the timing consistent with Your good pleasure
Praying without ceasing, I will wait ’til You finally come for my
eternal pleasure and saving, endless safe-keeping.
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