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jennifer Jun 2015
it faded like slavery
but the screams will not.
not this time
not with this much
involvement
my body,  a strawberry

strawberry,  begging for fondue
slavery begging for an end
involvement is too exhausting
nor giving any relief,  so
much energy spent slowly,  as if dripping
time wasted

wasted time, wasted life, dipped in a bitter
fondue, unpleasant and messy
dipping of bitter lips until the bitter
end, *** empty,  needs washing, another
exhausting task, requiring to much
involvement, too much effort

Effort is what i can't give, I'm
bitter about that and angry. With too
much resentment, just growing inside me. More
messy baggage,
another issue, as if I don't already have enough. So im
bitter,  so what?

What difference does it make?
I'm to battered for repair,
I'm to exhausted for any attempt at anything
Janine Jacobs May 2015
Struggling to catch my breath
as the corporate noose tightens
with every mundane task flung my way

Slowly losing my contentment
with this poor disguise of slavery

Suffering alone in silence
with a fake smile plastered on my face

I swear I've been here before...
living the same year on repeat

This can't be it
there has to be more to this boring game

“Money can't buy life”
realisation burns like a slap in the face

I'm smarter than this
I won't get caught in this web of numbness
that comes from only existing

Opening my eyes with a blade
it hurts... the truth always does
Opening my eyes to life
...that feels good though
Nikita May 2015
Green dances like waves around her wide pupils, eyes lashes like curved feathers graze the top of her eyelid.

Flaming orange spirals from her beautiful mind down to the end of her back.

A canvas
Her face resembled as the flecks of freckles formed a gorgeous piece art.

Her body was as though it was sculptured carefully to put on display in greek goddess section of the museum

Sadly it wasn't
Instead her body was forcefully abused and harmed as it wasn't societys shallow idea of beauty

She wasn't tan
She wasn't blonde or brunette
Just a pale ginger.

She considered herself to be hideous

She became weak
Vunerable
Easy

It wasn't her fault
She needed the money
She lacked self esteem
And so selling her body gave her the worth and attention she never had.

Beaten
Hurt
*****

Her life was gone
The green waves in her eyes stop dancing
The lashes were now harsh lumps of dried mascara
Her beautiful hair was bleached blonde, frayed and cut.

And her body was now just another puppet to an old mans torture.
Joelle McCook May 2015
Five ...
My body instinctively moves
To the sway of the wind's rhythm
Swinging to the right, left, right...
Swaying, bending, flailing, falling
To the dance of death


Four...
Finally the sweet taste of freedom
Longingly lingers on the crevices of my mind
As I am dragged from the airy convulsion of my body
To slash the splashing surface of slurping waves
With my death partner -
Brother - tied by the neck -
Connected by the root
Staring unseeingly at at the rising sun of liberty
With the last image of *******
Still reflecting in his milky grey eyeballs,
No longer bursting with the dark essence of life

Three ...
The wind gently lowers me
To the soft edges of salvation
As my eyes are glued to the sun
As if to erase the haughty, mocking glare
Of the white devils
My bright screen of light
With the beautifully blinding colours of the sky
Whispering, "Africa"
And producing images of life
Of my family
Of my food
Of my home
Of my life,
Before...


Two ...
My body rushes to embrace
The heavy, yet comforting hug of my sunset
A smile, unused for months, etched deep into my face
As the waves of mermaids wetly kiss
The slashes, wounds and br- br-bruises
That decorate my body
No more
No more suffocating in seas of bodies
Packed into the boat of death
I will breathe
As water fills my body with the air of freedom.


One ...
More second, to...
CautiousRain May 2015
Hot, salty tears, muddled,
with the bitter, icy spray,
enveloped by the Atlantic,
desposed by pedigree.

Peoples, of all lifetimes,
swiftly, abducted from their blood,
with lament, embraces ripped apart,
sin left disguised, ousted love.

Lumber structures, like cages,
repressing their last breaths,
left few ongoing in the waves,
desposed by traitorous men.

Forceful souls, whose tongue called out,
reshaped their gruesome plight,
to overthrow the tides and toils, who,
ousted them at the site.

Desde África, a Cuba,
y entonces a América,
los abogados se lucharon,
y tomaron un caso de libertad.

Para un barco se llama Amistad,
todos los malhechos son,
la gente Mende querían justicia,
y tomaron parte por el mundo.
Lo siento en caso mí español no es perfecto...
I cherish my freedom
Hard earned though it was
Through the abolitionist railway
And those who supported the cause

An African slave,
though free upon birth
I was sold as a slave
And was now bound to the earth

Run for the caves boy
Run for the caves
Run for your freedom
Or die here a slave
Run for the caves boy
Run for the caves
Run for your freedom
Or die here a slave

Late in the dark
I heard of the routes
To the new land of freedom
I was resolute

I would run for my life
Leave my family behind
I would run for the caves
And the new life I'd find

Bound to plantation
I was just something to trade
I would run for my freedom
The decision was made

From South Carolina
I'd head to the coast
I'd run for my freedom
I'd then be a ghost

Follow the signs
That was all that I heard
They know you are coming
Just remember the word

Stray from the darkness
A dead slave you will be
With the last thought you'll have
That you'll never die free

Boats on the seacoast
Up to Salem they sail
Look for the sign
And remember the trail

Make for the caves
They'll find you where
The water is highest
They'll come get you there

From there up to Salem
And one more step to go
Stick with the railroad
The way that they know

Make way when the moon
Is down low in the sky
If you're found in the meantime
It's a fact you will die

Freedom is costly
But, it is within reach
Make for the caves
At the north end of the beach

From New England go on
to the north or the west
Both spell out freedom
The end of your quest

Don't look over your shoulder
just follow the signs
They know you are coming
stay deep in the pines

Remember all those
Who have made Freeman Cave
Follow their symbols
And don't die a slave

There are people who will
Help you free from the strife
But, for now find the caves
And son, run for your life....

Run for the caves boy
Run for the caves
Run for your freedom
Or die here a slave
Run for the caves boy
Run for the caves
Run for your freedom
Or die here a slave
Donna Bella Apr 2015
Blood splatters
White devil
Black angel
Killed by the devil
Debatable sentence
Death sentence or a couple of years?
Killed a brother
But it's debatable
If our brother got a death sentence and 8 shots in the back
It's only right if you get a death sentence
Can the government protect our brothers and our sisters?
AmeriKKKa government can not protect us because it was not made for us
But we can change that
We have to keep on fighting
We have to keep on protesting
We have to keep on studying
We have to get in the office
We have to get these law degrees
We have to become governors
We have to win
Because we've been losing
We've gotten so far
But not that far
I wrote this poem April 8, I was waiting to decide if I was going to pose it but this is the right time. I'm praying for Baltimore tonight
Jay Altezza Apr 2015
We were all born to be slaves,
"To what" is all that we are free to choose.
Tess Calogaras Apr 2015
I do not want to play in your garden of Eden
Pluck the sweet cherry apple from your tree,
Full it with the white christ evil that fills our core.

I do not want to play in your garden
But to walk naked with his creatures of all colours, sizes, identities and terms
And marvel at our beauty.

Princess,
With your pink hair and overgrown beard,
You are Eden’s finest.
Who are they to say what is beautiful?

We are slaves in our garden of Eden,
Swimming in her curves.
We are not to touch her
Though we are evil creatures of moral standards and consciousness.

Ebony came and stole with it our ability of doing things without reward.
Firmly grasped by whats right and wrong yet still,
We want to destroy her gaze with our rotting fruit.

There was ****** in the Garden of Eden,
Slaughtered puppets who steal the night with misheard approval and labels.
Child, you are not a bad person for wanting something that they did not.

The lion is not the devil for killing the deer.
He is not filled with vile for kissing the creature with death.
Though we will say it was evil as we pluck the fur from his mane
and wear it around our shoulders

We are the makers of The Garden of Eden and its slavery.
We full its nucleus with verdict and creed.
Enslaved men with torn backs and sable,
now cover their backs in suits and ties,
Still whipped.

Hang our bones in a science room
and teach the children where it hurts
Do you think greatness dies young
because the earth got jealous of its beauty?

How is it we spend our lives miserable and thoughtful
when the others spend their days chasing bees and lapping up rivers?
How is it we know so much about wrongdoing and yet the doing we do is so wrong?

I have played in your garden of Eden,
And I have let the labels loiter my mind with judgement.
I have felt ashamed of my Fathers illness for that would make him weak
And felt disabled as a woman for no want of children and marriage.

Yes God, I have faced your garden, tasted the sweet nectar from your tree and sinned in the eyes of Eden.
Copyright © 2015 Tessa Calogaras.
All Rights Reserved
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