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Oculi Oct 4
While plucking feathers, while plucking feathers
The black tar envelops my unmanly sigh
A cigarette in the moon's light with a stranger
And the howling of an unsightly beast

While plucking feathers, while plucking feathers
The fog obscures everything in sight
I'm questioning the night sky on its numbers
The forest looks in disgust and curiosity

While plucking feathers, while plucking feathers
I'm bleeding out, I'm bleeding out
While plucking feathers, my ear drum pops
I say my goodbye and flap my bare wings

An ornate door leads to the mausoleum
A huge crack showing the entrance of grave robbers
The youths wander inside to belittle their ancestors
And my ballad softly floats above the ground

While plucking feathers, while plucking feathers
The young man rests near his anvil
Opening his book of poetry on an empty page
Only to find the blood of the martyr seeping

While plucking my feathers
Will the youth remember my name?
Will I be forgotten as a nameless man?
Or will I be the poet of the next century?

Pluck my feathers or don't!
Pluck my feathers or don't!
Pluck my feathers or don't!

But do not forget me and the steps which I took
Do not forget my babbling, my bish and my bosch
Do not forget my gifts, you, receiver of blessing
Pluck them rhythmically, slave, rhythmically

My feather falls, slowly to the ground
It is the last of its kind
And as my breaths draw to a close
The children laugh gleefully
Unknowing the end is near
Extinction on my name once and for all
Pluck my feathers no more, slave,
I've just blood to give.
Ars poetica.
labyrinth Sep 23
What I will emphasize may look to y’all as history
From humanity standpoint; it’s a big shame and mystery

It sure happened in the past, this ain’t a current topic
Or maybe still around, hurtful and traumatic

I’m not saying it all did start out with Avery
But it’s been a good home for too long to slavery

Man was treated and traded as goods in public auctions
Disgrace was all over but not a single sign for conscience

It’s not just the body, you also bought mind and soul
Wow! You must’ve paid a fortune to buy’em all

What happened to empathy? Please answer me Dear Sirs
Are you taking the fifth? Don’t you know what it refers?

You never thought of yourself in the body of color
Yet gave long *** speeches on dignity and honor

Rough and proud on surface to make them obey.
However rotten inside, and that was all okay

Why captivate a race and give them the stupid belief?
That they are secondary and all they deserve is grief

Motivation’s obvious; too much errand to take care
And Blacks came in handy to use rather than share

Don’t run away now, we just heated the subject
He is a human being mister, not a ******* object

Oh, I see, you don’t wanna face with the sheer fact
That indeed your cruel ancestors attacked

These innocent African tribes for no good reason
In a barefaced manner against the age of reason

And you’re not ready to pay for their deadly sin
Alright! Stand up and admit that we’re all close kin

It’s **** important. Do you even know why?
That is to say residues of slavery bye-bye

Opportunity gap, project houses, ****** education
Are the real meanings of the word, discrimination.

Biased justice with never ending prejudice on black
Are updated slavery forms deserving a good smack

People are haughty for the things they didn’t earn
Race and color are given, but they are yet to learn.

No man’s been a property for your royal dynasty
Facing and accepting this takes a lot of honesty

Freedom became vague, when society was stratified
Where the privilege owners were safely identified

By color, neighborhood and school in the whole nation
In ******* good-old days, during segregation

Therefore, do me a favor and don’t give me the cliché
That all **** sapiens had an equal say

That’s even nowadays neither valid nor truth
Let alone it would be then effective in sooth

For all the years they have chosen to be violent
Slave owners don’t even have the right to remain silent

Before giving me the crap on Afro-American’s wrongdoing
Let’s put you in their shoes and see how you’re doing

By the way, it’s not like Blacks need a defense from me
Look around, you’ll see how they get even with thee

Jazz, rap, hip hop, soul, reggae and blues for that matter
Or non-blacks dropping their pants down to bladder

Look at youngsters' hands, when they’re saluting each other
Trust me, there is nothing white, it’s all from black brother

In return all belittle, denial, tyranny and attack
They are transforming and painting you solid black

It all began in New York with the Harlem Renaissance
Artistic, rebellious and witty. Possibly the best response

I know what I’m talking about with absolute faith
Once my home address was 135th and 8th

Stop pompously calling this junk as modernity
It’s in fact nothing but big-fat-white sovereignty

Nonetheless you are more than welcome to anticipate
That communities of color will in fact emancipate

You from yourself if you know what I mean
Too deep to grasp, huh? For what you have been

I seem to hear people are constantly asking me
As a white person. Oh no, sorry. A brown maybe

Why on earth am I now irritating the past?
Like what happened back then is not manifest

I suppose it’s both because of my aching heart
Feeling in the history for this vile part

And also because of my Turkish nationality
That’s Europe’s Black these days, with Asian paternity

Add to that as well, keenness for reality
Truth needs to be cried out, it’s my personality

This way or that way, what difference does it make
Ignore who says it. Embrace the truth for God’s sake

In case you couldn’t fathom, to whom I am addressing
I’ll clear that part for you, so you won’t have to be guessing

Aiming at the racist ones, words are my sole arsenal
And if you’re like them too, go ahead and take it personal

All great thinkers somehow felt deeply for human
With their vast and perpetual acumen

It’s not a duty assigned to philosophers only
We must do the same, so no race becomes lonely

There is no other way to the salvation of mankind
Notice it already and don’t insist on being blind

In case you still didn’t realize, what matters the most
It’s your effort to correct the problem we just diagnosed

Make no mistake, we don’t cry over spilt milk here
Action must speak louder than the words to clear

This longstanding injustice along with insincerity
A bleeding wound that is, blocking solidarity

Here’s your chance to make it all right again
Treat people equally, you bet you’ll get their Amen

Kindly stop acting like nothing happened in the past
Labyrinth says you can’t be enlightened without quest
Copyrighted work
Rj Aug 19
new white dresses bought with
old money earned by the
hard work of
no one who saw a cent.
soft silks on cotton grounds and
red roses with the
thorns cut off.
a smiling bridal party lined up beside tall
ivory columns and
rows of grapes grown by people with
reddened backs and aching feet.
a bride and groom kiss under the
hanging tree and the
branches deformed by the
weight of the ropes are
cropped from the photo.
the lesson that we learn from this is the
blood of one hundred and
twenty eight people can be
cleaned with just
one bar of

bright.

white.

soap.
this poem is about plantation weddings. i learned of these and they were so horrific that i felt as though i needed to spread awareness of them, especially the way plantations and people who come from old money in the south are trying to erase the history of the slavery that gave them money.
Nico Reznick Jul 29
You know "robot" means "slave",
right?  I need
to believe that you are
more than your programming, need
to believe in the
love notes you wrote me in
binary code, need to believe that there's
space between the hardware and the
software for something like
the soul, need to believe in it with
all the faith that still ebbs through my fragile,
damaged circuitry.  I need to see
you break free of
these algorithms in order to believe that
maybe
I can too.
As birds in cages, they wonder why
My people don’t sing but freedom cry
They store us low but we dream of high
From jail to skies our freedom cry
From chains to thrones Crowd or alone
The earth can’t hold when skies our home
From depths to hills to mountain tops
We chant cries to winds which lift us up
Blue skies escaped from gravity
Archaic prisons shall not hold we
Freedom our new reality
Our freedom cry is destiny
Ylzm Jun 18
As a Seed begets a forest,
so a Lie begets Nations.
Truth blinds, Freedom enslaves,
Wisdom, foolishness, and Money, real.
The poor in spirit is blessed
But the world calls it depression.
Matt Shao Jun 17
Once upon a time a lovely maiden did her chores
She cooked and cleaned and washed and dried and wiped down all the floors
And though her Lord looked down at her, ironically this man
Would force himself upon her because when you’re Lord you think you can

He used her for his twisted games, he thought it was alright
Sadly she just let it be, so she could feed her son at night
And so it went for years and years, till finally one day
Her son grew up and saw the truth, saying that “this man must pay”

Despite his mother’s cries and pleas, the son could not forgive
He told her she deserved much more, this was not a way to live
His mom, you see, quick to agree, would never punish him
Her heart was her worst enemy, enabling Lord to live in sin

So the son approached the man, he stood much taller than Lord did
As the Lord said “hello boy, you’ve grown so much since just a kid”
“I know,” son said, “it must be strange, to be on the receiving end”
“Of the games you play at night, I bet your wife won’t comprehend”

“Won’t comprehend the things you do, to satisfy your appetite”
“I can’t imagine how a person does this and then sleeps at night”
“At least it doesn’t matter now, because I give what is deserved”
“What’s that,” you ask? “To be frank, I really hate to touch a nerve”

“But since we’re here I will be clear, this might begin to sting a bit”
“I’ve wanted this for oh so long, because you’re such a *******”
“It’s my turn now, so turn around, this will not end quick I must say”
“This won’t be fun, and when I’m done, this broomstick will make sure you pay”
I wrote this to cast a light on abusive relationships and the corruption of those in power.
Indigo May 21
As a kid:

Our faces covered with sweat.
As y'all be yellin’ at us with threats.
Our hands covered with cuts and blood.
And our arms, be caked with mud.
Every day, we be prayin’ to God for our freedom to come
Ignoring all y’all sayin’ we’re scums.
Someday I’ll finally leave this place.
Cuz’ the people ‘round here are claiming black ain’t a race.
All y’all people callin’ my people *******.
As all y’all be sittin' there while y’all snicker.
You’ve whipped me, tearin’ my life apart.
My ma always be sayin’ kindness comes from deep down in our hearts.
I kneel as you chain my hands.
And push me down again as Imma’ tryin’ to stand.
I reckon myself I ain’t gonna give up now.
As all y’all treatin' us like we’re cows.

As an adult:

My ma always be tellin' me to fight for what is right.
I was her favorite stick of dynamite.
My pa even said I jaywalked a two.
Said that I would make a big change that guys like me would be lookin’ up too.
My bro Jay be tellin’ me to never let anything get to me.
But still, as an adult, a white man whipped me.
And he be taunted me and sayin’ ain’t you gonna flee.
I looked him straight in his eyes and said someday we are gonna be free.
He looked at me sayin’ you think a ****** like you would be special.
I told him off sayin’ he was being sentimental.
I walked away, head held high.
Cuz’ he’s just bein’ a cruel type of guy.
Who would’ve knew that I ended up bein’ a leader.
All just because I ain’t never stopped bein’ believer.
I may be black but that don’t mean I ain’t allowed to be speakin’ up for black rights.
Cuz’ all y’all can be speakin’ up to and be white.
Ivva’ worked hard and was very successful.
Now all y’all please remember that y’all are special.
I didn’t back down and I ain’t never gonna give up for freedom for slaves.
So all y’all speak up for all y’alls rights and don’t y'all ever forget “Remember to be brave.”
Tiara I S May 13
There's trauma interlocking my genetics
Stripped of specifics boiled into one
My own blood stained with my ancestors' rapes
23% White in my DNA sickens my bones
How much of it was forced upon my people
My great great and further back peoples
How many mothers thighs ripped apart to give birth to the innocent child of white devils
To be beaten by the white she-devil for "enticing" her man

For the child- if lighter- it be favored but enslaved in the home- near that very room they were criminally conceived

How many young Black men taken and ***** to be emasculated and sedated to work passively upon the plantation
Take a wife- to have her taken to masters room
Have a daughter- son- and the pattern roll on

How many white people and non-black people believe Black peoples to be inherently ****** to this **** day
These are the origins

If White people ignore my claims
Then you- white man- woman- person
You are just as guilty as the slave owners
Just born centuries too late for free labor
You must pity this of yourself too

To ignore Black peoples cries is to be complacent in our mistreatment
To not listen is to feel we were deserving of our suffering
To have happily whipped and beaten your fellow man if born back then

To support U.S. military veterans and be empathizing of their trauma
While rolling eyes to when Black people don't trust police, the government, or all White people of high status
Invented- created- controlled- plagued by White people
Because of 300+ years of trauma has brazed us with forced submission
To ignore the intergenerational neglect of treatment among Black people

Makes you a slave master on a cold December in 1865 missing your slaves just born modern day
The title is referring to the fact that so many White people have SCREAMED in my face that SLAVERY HAPPENED SO LONG AGO- when I have calmly mentioned the inequalities of this day in age still being faced
yet Black Americans havent nearly been freed for as long as slavery went on.
The White people with this sort of guilt need to literally shut the **** up and get out my face.
If you are White and this makes you uncomfortable. Good.
It should.
Now go out and openly disapprove of racists when you can, and learn about laws that criminalize Black people, or you are just who I am describing in the last stanza

White discomfort is not nearly as lethal as racism don't kid yourself
******* money,
And ******* property.
I don’t need you to be happy.

All that I need is food and water,
A space to live,
And people to love.
I don’t need this property!
I don’t need your permission to be happy!

I don’t own you,
You own me.
I am your property.

I don’t drive my car,
My car drives me.
I don’t sit on my couch,
My couch sits on me.
I don’t watch the tv,
The tv watches me!

We are not the consumers,
We are the products.
They own us.

I have have had it with all this *******,
I am practically drowning in all of it!
All I hear,
All I smell,
All I taste,
All I touch,
All I see, on the tv, is a product,
Tempting me to buy my own slavery!

Buy your slavery!
Be my property!
This will make you happy!
Then die!
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