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Descovia May 21
Back and Reloaded
I rock waves
My voice controls chaos in motion
Every breathe I set off explosions 💥

Split you ***** ****** apart like the ocean
I have the power, feeling like I'm Moses
Praying with spells to return home
with expectations from expialadocious!

I am feeling alive for the moment!
Murderous mind, might slaughter my mother loving opponent
99 Problems, Team Beat It Up, None of you don't want it!

Walk it like I talk it.
Make you hustle and work
Like crossfit!
Be on ****** *** like debt
I am on it, like I own it!

Cash Rules Everything Around Me
Except dreams

Corruption Ruins Earth AlignMENT




Amanda May 14
I reminisce a simpler time.
I listen to Lana Del Rey past midnight as if it's 2013 again,
pretending her graphic imagery is my actual life
while I search for my exes on google since they don't use Facebook,
wondering what ever became of them.
Is my high school sweetheart happy he got married and had a family with someone that wasn't me?
Did my college boyfriend ever snap out of his depression and regret breaking up with me in the middle of the night at his Boston apartment leaving me to wander the streets aimlessly until the sun rose above the city skyline?
As much as I crave answers, unfortunately my google trail runs cold.
If I had blinked twice, would my life had turned out that differently?
And if it had, would I even want to be me?
A little ramble since life is hard and it feels like nothing has changed and yet everything has.
Devin Ortiz May 8
Books are fuel to the imagination.

Works of fiction pour into my mind,
hours at a time.

I feel the power rise,
as I climb through expositions.

Looking down,
I see the world in the palm of my hand.

Looking up,
I see my face amongst the clouds.

On this high I craft my own words,
some spoken and others in ink.

And as I fall,
I ponder the time until my return.
The forbidden words,
Never to be spoken aloud
Tumbled out of my mouth
From the moment we met
And I let them.
you know who you are...
Kitten Yvad Apr 13
I HAVE COME to believe over and over again that what is most important to me must be spoken, made verbal and shared, even at the risk of having it bruised or misunderstood. That the speaking profits me, beyond any other effect. I am standing here as a Black lesbian poet, and the meaning of all that waits upon the fact that I am still alive, and might not have been. Less than two months ago I was told by two doctors, one female and one male, that I would have to have breast surgery, and that there was a 60 to 80 percent chance that the tumor was malignant. Between that telling and the actual surgery, there was a three-week period of the agony of an involuntary reorganization of my entire life. The surgery was completed, and the growth was benign.

¶ 3
But within those three weeks, I was forced to look upon myself and my living with a harsh and urgent clarity that has left me still shaken but much stronger. This is a situation faced by many women, by some of you here today. Some of what I ex-perienced during that time has helped elucidate for me much of what I feel concerning the transformation of silence into language and action.

¶ 4
In becoming forcibly and essentially aware of my mortality, and of what I wished and wanted for my life, however short it might be, priorities and omissions became strongly etched in a merciless light, and what I most regretted were my silences. Of what had I ever been afraid? To question or to speak as I be-lieved could have meant pain, or death. But we all hurt in so many different ways, all the time, and pain will either change or end. Death, on the other hand, is the final silence. And that might be coming quickly, now, without regard for whether I had ever spoken what needed to be said, or had only betrayed myself into small silences, while I planned someday to speak, or waited for someone else’s words. And I began to recognize a source of power within myself that comes from the knowledge that while it is most desirable not to be afraid, learning to put fear into a perspective gave me great strength.

¶ 5
I was going to die, if not sooner then later, whether or not I had ever spoken myself. My silences had not protected me. Your silence will not protect you. But for every real word spoken, for every attempt I had ever made to speak those truths for which I am still seeking, I had made contact with other women while we examined the words to fit a world in which we all believed, bridging our differences. And it was the concern and caring of all those women which gave me strength and enabled me to scrutinize the essentials of my living.

¶ 6L
The women who sustained me through that period were Black and white, old and young, lesbian, bisexual, and heterosexual, and we all shared a war against the tyrannies of silence. They all gave me a strength and concern without which I could not have survived intact. Within those weeks of acute fear came the knowledge – within the war we are all waging with the forces of death, subtle and otherwise, conscious or not – I am not only a casualty, I am also a warrior.

¶ 7
What are the words you do not yet have? What do you need to say? What are the tyrannies you swallow day by day and attempt to make your own, until you will sicken and die of them, still in silence? Perhaps for some of you here today, I am the face of one of your fears. Because I am woman, because I am Black, because I am lesbian, because I am myself – a Black woman warrior poet doing my work – come to ask you, are you doing yours?

¶ 8
And of course I am afraid, because the transformation of silence into language and action is an act of self-revelation, and that always seems fraught with danger. But my daughter, when I told her of our topic and my difficulty with it, said, “Tell them about how you’re never really a whole person if you remain silent, because there’s always that one little piece inside you that wants to be spoken out, and if you keep ignoring it, it gets madder and madder and hotter and hotter, and if you don’t speak it out one day it will just up and punch you in the mouth from the inside.”

¶ 9
In the cause of silence, each of us draws the face of her own fear – fear of contempt, of censure, or some judgment, or recognition, of challenge, of annihilation. But most of all, I think, we fear the visibility without which we cannot truly live. Within this country where racial difference creates a constant, if unspoken, distortion of vision, Black women have on one hand always been highly visible, and so, on the other hand, have been rendered invisible through the depersonalization of racism. Even within the women’s movement, we have had to fight, and still do, for that very visibility which also renders us most vulnerable, our Blackness. For to survive in the mouth of this dragon we call america, we have had to learn this first and most vital lesson – that we were never meant to survive. Not as human beings. And neither were most of you here today, Black or not. And that visibility which makes us most vulnerable is that which also is the source of our greatest strength. Because the machine will try to grind you into dust anyway, whether or not we speak. We can sit in our corners mute forever while our sisters and our selves are wasted, while our children are distorted and destroyed, while our earth is poisoned; we can sit in our safe corners mute as bottles, and we will still be no less afraid.

¶ 10
In my house this year we are celebrating the feast of K wanza, the African-american festival of harvest which begins the day after Christmas and lasts for seven days. There are seven principles of Kwanza, one for each day. The first principle is Umoja, which means unity, the decision to strive for and maintain uni-ty in self and community. The principle for yesterday, the sec-ond day, was Kujichagulia – self-determination – the decision to define ourselves, name ourselves, and speak for ourselves, in-stead of being defined and spoken for by others. Today is the third day of K wanza, and the principle for today is Ujima – col-lective work and responsibility – the decision to build and maintain ourselves and our communities together and to recognize and solve our problems together.

¶ 11
Each of us is here now because in one way or another we share a commitment to language and to the power of language, and to the reclaiming of that language which has been made to work against us. In the transformation of silence into language and action, it is vitally necessary for each one of us to establish or examine her function in that transformation and to recognize her role as vital within that transformation.
For those of us who write, it is necessary to scrutinize not only the truth of what we speak, but the truth of that language by which we speak it. For others, it is to share and spread also those words that are meaningful to us. But primarily for us all, it is necessary to teach by living and speaking those truths which we believe and know beyond understanding. Because in this way alone we can survive, by taking part in a process of life that is creative and continuing, that is growth.

¶ 12
And it is never without fear – of visibility, of the harsh light of scrutiny and perhaps judgment, of pain, of death. But we have lived through all of those already, in silence, except death.

¶ 13
And I remind myself all the time now that ifI were to have been born mute, or had maintained an oath of silence my whole life long for safety, I would still have suffered, and I would still die. It is very good for establishing perspective.

¶ 14
And where the words of women are crying to be heard, we must each of us recognize our responsibility to seek those words out, to read them and share them and examine them in their pertinence to our lives. That we not hide behind the mockeries of separations that have been imposed upon us and which so often we accept as our own. For instance, “I can’t possibly teach Black women’s writing – their experience is so different from mine.” Yet how many years have you spent teaching Plato and Shakespeare and Proust? Or another, “She’s a white woman and what could she possibly have to say to me?” Or, “She’s a lesbian, what would my husband say, or my chairman?” Or again, “This woman writes of her sons and I have no children.” And all the other endless ways in which we rob ourselves of ourselves and each other.

¶ 15
We can learn to work and speak when we are afraid in the same way we have learned to work and speak when we are tired. For we have been socialized to respect fear more than our own needs for language and definition, and while we wait in silence for that final luxury of fearlessness, the weight of that silence will choke us.
The fact that we are here and that I speak these words is an at-tempt to break that silence and bridge some of those differences between us, for it is not difference which immobilizes us, but silence. And there are so many silences to be broken.
this isn't on Audre Lorde's HelloPoetry page, and it's not poetry, but it certainly is. This was the 3rd speech I recalled in full from memory in my Public Speaking 101 class, my second semester back at school ...

and I just remember shivering as I read the words Black and Lesbian. I remember shivering trying to imagine working well tired or afraid... but I was working while tired and afraid. Since then her  words have inspired me

to try to find all the words I do not have. And considering the number of apparently non linguistic  thoughts I have; there are so so so so many to find.
Veemz Apr 7
We are the canvas

The memories we make are the paint strokes

At last I see the painting that has formed

And this picture is not worth a thousand words

Only three

I love you
I haven’t posted a poem in a very long time. I was lost as an individual but I feel good
Life is just an empty Dream,
Things are not really what they seem full of ups and downs , after each fall in life there is a rise after each battle there is a price.... Life is full of stress and mess tension leads to sleeplessness ... Sometimes I sit down and ask myself when will all this madness cease where is free time where is peace ... In life you have to Aspire in order to be able to aquire the desire you admire do not retire always Refire
Man Mar 28
to the man donned in black
to the woman with no spine
and a broken back
you work in slumber
with eyes unopened
to life's beauty
you have only spoken
brief talks betwixt dreams
stiffened, when awoken
of thoughts that linger a ways away
in a land of virtue
reminiscent of tolkien
Louise Mar 1
Relasyon natin na akala ng lahat ay perpekto
Unti unti ng gumuguho
Sinasabi **** mahal mo pa ako
Ngunit parang hindi kana sigurado

“Bahala na”
Katagang ayokong sabihin ngunit sang ayon ang tadhana
“Itigil na”
Wala ng patutunguhan pa

Mga matang dati’y ako lamang ang nakikita
Ngunit atensyon ngayo’y nasa iba
Siguro oras na para sumuko
Wag ng hintayin na may kasama ng bago

Masakit man para saakin
Kailangan ko ng bumitaw sa pag iibigan natin
Masyado ng komplekado
Hindi sang ayon saatin ang mundo

Sana’y sa susunod na magkita ang ating mga mata
Makita ko na ulit ang sayang dati’y sakin mo lamang nadarama
Patawad aking sinta
Ngunit hindi kona dama ang saya
Louise Feb 28
Bakit ka nag iba?
Meron nabang iba?
Akala ko mga lirico lamang ng kanta
Di ko alam na mararanasan ko din pala

Masaya naman tayo
Ngunit may dumating na iba
Simula nang masilayan mo sya
Nag iba ang turingan natin sa isa’t isa

Nasisira ako malagay ko lamang ang mga ngiti sa labi mo
Hindi ko alam na kaya din pala nyang ibigay sayo
Alam kong hindi na ako,
Ngunit handa akong magpaubaya para sa kaligayahan mo

Mahal kita
Kahit na hindi na ako ang mahal mo
Masaya ako
Kahit na hindi nako ang rason ng mga ngiti mo

Kailangan ba talaga ang magdusa?
Eh paano naman kung nais ko pang umasa?
Handa parin akong mahalin ka
Kahit patuloy kapang mag mahal ng iba

Ikaw yung bumuo sakin sa mga panahong ako'y sirang sira
Ngunit ikaw rin yung taong naging rason kung bakit ako ngayo'y lumuluha
Mga yakap **** binabalik balikan
Sana'y muli ko nang maranasan

Mahal kita
Higit pa sa pagmamahal ko sa iba
Di mo lang nga madama
Dahil atensyon mo'y laging nasa kanya

Ikaw ang aking hinahanap,oras oras, minu minuto
Kahit iba na ang hanap mo bawat segundo
Ako’y mananatili parin sayo kahit unti unti ng nasisira ang iyong mga pangako
Ako'y mananatiling kalmado kahit ang kwento nating dalawa'y unti unting sumasarado

Nag simula lahat sa salitang "kamusta"
Hindi ko inaasahang magtatapos sa "paalam na"
Ikaw ang bumuo ng aking mundo
Ngunit ikaw din pala ang sisira nito

Pangako **** walang iwanan
Pero ikaw din pala ang unang lilisan
Pangakong puno ng kasinungalingan
Hinihiling na sana'y hindi mo nalang binitawan Nang hindi na sana ako nasaktan

Tayong dalawa ang sumulat ng ating istorya, ngunit sa huli kayong dalawa ang lumigaya
Sabi nga ni moira,"ako yung nauna, pero sya ang wakas"
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