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"abject" poems
*True eternal Greatness Springs From a fountain Of abject humility.*
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Mar 3, 2015
Mar 3, 2015 at 6:06 AM UTC
Of Greatness and its Subjectivity...10w
tiny arrows Rain down as the heavens Scream their wrath and the cameras Flash incessantly to Capture abject misery. the screams they slowly Die down Into the low moans and the tears are Falling faster as fists Hit their mark. red streaks across the sky.
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May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 6:10 PM UTC
What Really Happens In A Thunderstorm?
Anticipation Sun rupturing horizon Abject reverie
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Dec 27, 2014
Dec 27, 2014 at 7:51 PM UTC
Sun Haiku
1640 Take all away from me, but leave me Ecstasy, And I am richer then than all my Fellow Men— Ill it becometh me to dwell so wealthily When at my very Door are those possessing more, In abject poverty—
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4.7k
Take all away from me, but leave me Ecstasy
Haters, haters, hiding in the closets, hiding in faeces your putrid minds full of fears and all your weaknesses You are not men but degenerates and cowards in excesses but in your attempts to distract away from your deseases Look the parents you have and you know you're like rat fleas you lack a lot which makes you so angry and in pieces Washing once a week on other days its wet towel on faces smerge on stunted wieners never to be a winner at the races You're un-cool all you do is pretend but you ain't got the aces as charmless as chicken *** you're the left-behind in chases Never had a true compliment because you have no graces deep down you're a mess and petrified of background traces You have ***** linens and bad secrets buried in bad places you're nasty, think nasty and 've done things that debases Always afraid you pick on your betters rocking in perfect places full of inferiority complexes  real abilities get up your noses You've wet your bed and at night  you knowyou're ********* playing macho when in reality you want to do men's ***** Nobody likes the faceless cowards and abject scorn they entices partners and frenemies are there for themselves and free passes They see through them and smell their weakness without paces faking laughter at their hate and anger at winners they despises Haters are sick sad losers miserable inferiors with dark devises never happy, never content just slimy cowards in dumb disguises
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Aug 16, 2018
Aug 16, 2018 at 8:29 PM UTC
Inchwood to U. Bard Wazungus et all....
Existential crisis Fundamental flaws Insurmountable dilemma Confabulations galore Indistinguishable chaos Contraindications Untenable maladies Nature’s riled Abject behavior Peripheral existence Satire of reality
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Jan 4, 2015
Jan 4, 2015 at 10:15 AM UTC
Be Wary
Pearls of words when bought together Glides you into the world another So powerful is their magical effect Can turn an abject to a perfect Vica-versa is equally true So, affair with words is a matter of few Beauty of this affair is always a pleasure Relish every moment of this open treasure Cheers to all who are engaged in this fling For words, add to the feelings that extra bling Bharti
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Jun 23, 2014
Jun 23, 2014 at 5:30 AM UTC
Wordy Affair
. The more I think, and reflect about life, the more it strikes how little we need to survive. . But then the question of my life itself baffles me still. In the name of Cups and Wands and Swords and Pentacles. How does one figure out how one wants to ease into the world— in what manner what face what costume what identity shall we assume in this theatrical muse of mass-scale rehabilitation. Searching, for the right attire in a tolerable personality. To eventualize, to officiate, to become A masterpiece— by the hands of time and the wheels of fortune. So that we may be made worthy Maybe, if you were dealt with luck. Fortune's Fool— How do we know which is the correct way to go sᴉ ǝɥʇ ʇɔǝɹɹoɔ ʎɐʍ oʇ oɓ· in hindsight. To hunt for a halo in the robes of glee while you dwindle in time Abject, at sea. Cut the chase. Bleed. Heal. Await the haemorhage and its evanescence. And when you approach the Great Finale, Be free. . At any moment of time, we have one foot in the abyss while the other lapses into ecstasy. .
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Jul 25, 2018
Jul 25, 2018 at 3:17 PM UTC
“ The Hermit ”
1314 When a Lover is a Beggar Abject is his Knee— When a Lover is an Owner Different is he— What he begged is then the Beggar— Oh disparity— Bread of Heaven resents bestowal Like an obloquy—
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3.2k
When a Lover is a Beggar
In the name of democracy An entire state is terrorized Decade after decade Freedoms are curbed Protests are brutally suppressed People are brutally oppressed Education is diluted In the name of democracy The Army turns from protector to oppressor Every soldier marching past With his head held high Sounds the death knell For every man, woman and child In the name of democracy Soldiers break into houses Wielding their massive rifles As if it is their birthright As the peace and harmony within Is replaced by abject terror In the name of democracy All morals are flung out of the window As the women are ***** The men who challenge this unspeakable atrocity Are swiftly silenced with bullets As the children begin screaming in terror They are molested, one by one Until the trauma overcomes them Such that, they lose their voices They lose their minds They lose their hearts Meanwhile, the soldiers slip away quietly Having completed a good day of work In the name of democracy In the name of democracy India and Pakistan, warring for decades Use Kashmir as a bait As a means to satisfy Their unquenchable thirst for power As the potion simmers on Fuelled by hate on both sides Curfews and lockdowns follow with alarming regularity Schools and colleges are shut down Political organizations are banned The Internet is crippled Mobiles and landlines are killed Even the most feeble of all protests Is brutally quelled with bullets and grenades In the name of democracy Consent is dead and buried As nationalism takes centre stage The world watches on silently Allowing India, the oppressors-in-chief To reclaim the moral high ground And suddenly proclaim themselves as saviours Leaving the beleaguered Kashmiris no choice But to bow to their captors Their dreams of self-determination Shattered ruthlessly in the course of a mad, mad day In the name of democracy
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Aug 5, 2019
Aug 5, 2019 at 1:18 PM UTC
In the name of democracy
In the name of democracy An entire state is terrorized Decade after decade Freedoms are curbed Protests are brutally suppressed People are brutally oppressed Education is diluted In the name of democracy The Army turns from protector to oppressor Every soldier marching past With his head held high Sounds the death knell For every man, woman and child In the name of democracy Soldiers break into houses Wielding their massive rifles As if it is their birthright As the peace and harmony within Is replaced by abject terror In the name of democracy All morals are flung out of the window As the women are ***** The men who challenge this unspeakable atrocity Are swiftly silenced with bullets As the children begin screaming in terror They are molested, one by one Until the trauma overcomes them Such that, they lose their voices They lose their minds They lose their hearts Meanwhile, the soldiers slip away quietly Having completed a good day of work In the name of democracy In the name of democracy India and Pakistan, warring for decades Use Kashmir as a bait As a means to satisfy Their unquenchable thirst for power As the potion simmers on Fuelled by hate on both sides Curfews and lockdowns follow with alarming regularity Schools and colleges are shut down Political organizations are banned The Internet is crippled Mobiles and landlines are killed Even the most feeble of all protests Is brutally quelled with bullets and grenades In the name of democracy Consent is dead and buried As nationalism takes centre stage The world watches on silently Allowing India, the oppressors-in-chief To reclaim the moral high ground And suddenly proclaim themselves as saviours Leaving the beleaguered Kashmiris no choice But to bow to their captors Their dreams of self-determination Shattered ruthlessly in the course of a mad, mad day In the name of democracy
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59
I... think... I... like... crazily chasing concocted crushes however hasty high hopes earnestly entangled erstwhile enthusiasm left languishing limp lethargic suddenly soundless stupidly selfish every emotion enviously expectant an abject apology absent purposeful pleasure purportedly posed unearthed unhealthy ungainly uncertainties devouring devotion disgracing dogma an accident awaiting arrival
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Dec 5, 2013
Dec 5, 2013 at 12:24 AM UTC
alliteration crush
Speechless. Without words. Unable to form coherent sentences. Without the ability to structure abject thought. Lacking the necessary temporal lobe functionality To process latent thought semantics Into appropriate nervous synapses to create sounds. Speechless. You leave me speechless.
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Jul 30, 2012
Jul 30, 2012 at 11:14 PM UTC
Speechless
Oh, to sleep the sleep of youth; Peaceful dreams, and blissful truth When every morning brings the sun, Battles fought, and victories won! Victory sweet, misfortune **** Yet those that bear a champion’s heart Stand upright, tall, despite the end, And humbly shake opponent's hand Congratulations on fine play To meet, compete another day Hope the foe will others tell, “He fought with honor, he played well.” Oh, how the aging fight with sleep; Nightmares, abject fears run deep That life on earth is almost done, Morning might not bring the sun. Once strong, the warrior now is frail In the final battle death prevails, Though none but God has kept the score The champion longs for one quest more Long life results in necessity To replace lost skills with strategy We long to hear, at final bell, “He fought with honor, he played well.” PWL 12/25/16
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Dec 25, 2016
Dec 25, 2016 at 6:07 PM UTC
The Champion
fem in isms, i imagine Sapphic eyes: bad *** advert coruscates elite fairness sensing slavish blind in gestate calm affirm in genders More numerous of Windows-- Superior--for Doors-- O harsh judgement foiled, as a foil, as unknown truth foil-doubles in the brow, abject symmetry to systemize a fertile lack of sterile barrenness, i am a mediatrix rend, nirwaan, hijra wonderment aside from transemotion's ground swells demeaning to be understood. i celebrate and face the same to be what paperwork tests being normal being, freely chosen atom each belonging moves an asterisk of paths of mutate art of nature social darwin maze. i imagine Sapphic eyes, ginko soft they pile up all cobble memories themselves concretely cloistered fame spray of salty waves, macho screams symbol for dismissal ease for tearing at an inner unsaid war with lists offense of proper taste to what posterity intends an undulation womblike seeming nourish safety sounds. i imagine Sapphic eyes past debauched meanderings where hyster-clarity rejoins its titular and reliable escapisms curl the lips of maleness found here and there  smile  sneer love i imagine Sapphic eyes linguistic pirouettes congest that wisdom nonetheless the moment passed  on to a feigning truth in pretty rhyme ornamenting time with fine  meter  fine vernacular chimes peter in to juggle perspectival paradox, redichotomize the twilight idols, resolve the conflict like a dawn Aurora, i imagine Sapphic eyes running plastic with Alaskan wolves, toga floats to snow to let us see the purest fairness form a ****** circle, Hypatia ascends from tenebrous grave, Impregnable of Eye is pregnant now with Wollstonecraft revered in liberation's fount families held exemplar gaze of Taylor, ****** Cady, Anthony resanctified to vote entitlement's empathic origins, waxen mold of nascent categories, narrow hands spread wide to panoply anew the manifest evolve in true unknowns
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Nov 23, 2012
Nov 23, 2012 at 11:56 PM UTC
i imagine Sapphic eyes
fem in isms, i imagine Sapphic eyes: bad *** advert coruscates elite fairness sensing slavish blind in gestate calm affirm in genders More numerous of Windows-- Superior--for Doors-- O harsh judgement foiled, as a foil, as unknown truth foil-doubles in the brow, abject symmetry to systemize a fertile lack of sterile barrenness, i am a mediatrix rend, nirwaan, hijra wonderment aside from transemotion's ground swells demeaning to be understood. i celebrate and face the same to be what paperwork tests being normal being, freely chosen atom each belonging moves an asterisk of paths of mutate art of nature social darwin maze. i imagine Sapphic eyes, ginko soft they pile up all cobble memories themselves concretely cloistered fame spray of salty waves, macho screams symbol for dismissal ease for tearing at an inner unsaid war with lists offense of proper taste to what posterity intends an undulation womblike seeming nourish safety sounds. i imagine Sapphic eyes past debauched meanderings where hyster-clarity rejoins its titular and reliable escapisms curl the lips of maleness found here and there  smile  sneer love i imagine Sapphic eyes linguistic pirouettes congest that wisdom nonetheless the moment passed  on to a feigning truth in pretty rhyme ornamenting time with fine  meter  fine vernacular chimes peter in to juggle perspectival paradox, redichotomize the twilight idols, resolve the conflict like a dawn Aurora, i imagine Sapphic eyes running plastic with Alaskan wolves, toga floats to snow to let us see the purest fairness form a ****** circle, Hypatia ascends from tenebrous grave, Impregnable of Eye is pregnant now with Wollstonecraft revered in liberation's fount families held exemplar gaze of Taylor, ****** Cady, Anthony resanctified to vote entitlement's empathic origins, waxen mold of nascent categories, narrow hands spread wide to panoply anew the manifest evolve in true unknowns
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69
Better natured today than yesterday, smelling less like cigarettes and more like laundry detergent, you sit across from your therapist at the bar and ask for one more boilermaker. You say, How do you desire what you already possess? And your therapist says, Don't go down that drunk. That's a bad drunk. You're in a floral print A-line dress, one you bought from your sister-in-law. She's doing one of those multilevel marketing things and though her Facebook posts make you want to suicide yourself, she's happy and independent and at home with her kids. Despite these lukewarm feelings, you harbor some resentment as you finger and thumb a seam that's already coming undone. Sloane. Your husband keeps mentioning a woman at the office named Sloane. You're at the bar, almost alone, and promised yourself you wouldn't think about Sloane. But here you are. Sloane in a pencil skirt and stockings. Sloane with a fresh ****** energy, the kind you can't seem to summon, and you wonder why *** is such an important thing. It's so brief, forgettable, full of abject compromise. *** is an inherently violent act, don't you think? You say to the therapist.   If your therapist hears you, he doesn't respond. You don't repeat the question. You watch yourself broadcast on the TV above the bar. They're commenting on your hair and your arms and going on and on about your likability. Your therapist changes the mood. It's 6:30. He gives the place a nighttime feel. He kills a row of lights and turns on the colored bulbs, the blues and greens. The TV is turned down. The music is turned up. This is what you've been waiting for, the lights, the music. There's an hour before anyone really shows up. You can close your eyes and drift. Two or three drinks pass. A couple walks in. You have your therapist put in for an Uber. Maybe I've been asking the question the wrong way, you say. Oh yeah? the therapist says. Yeah. Maybe the question should be reversed. Maybe the question should be how do you remain desirable to the objects you possess? That seems like a lot of work. Seems like you'd have no sense of self. You'd always be bending. I've been a plus one for a long time. You say bending. But I wouldn't be doing anything new. I already do all these things. But I see them as a compromise. I'm just trying to reframe, you know? Why? your therapist asks. You open your mouth and find no words. You smile. You say you've had too much. You're rambling. You're sorry. You better go.
0
Nov 7, 2016
Nov 7, 2016 at 12:15 PM UTC
F L O T U S
Better natured today than yesterday, smelling less like cigarettes and more like laundry detergent, you sit across from your therapist at the bar and ask for one more boilermaker. You say, How do you desire what you already possess? And your therapist says, Don't go down that drunk. That's a bad drunk. You're in a floral print A-line dress, one you bought from your sister-in-law. She's doing one of those multilevel marketing things and though her Facebook posts make you want to suicide yourself, she's happy and independent and at home with her kids. Despite these lukewarm feelings, you harbor some resentment as you finger and thumb a seam that's already coming undone. Sloane. Your husband keeps mentioning a woman at the office named Sloane. You're at the bar, almost alone, and promised yourself you wouldn't think about Sloane. But here you are. Sloane in a pencil skirt and stockings. Sloane with a fresh ****** energy, the kind you can't seem to summon, and you wonder why *** is such an important thing. It's so brief, forgettable, full of abject compromise. *** is an inherently violent act, don't you think? You say to the therapist.   If your therapist hears you, he doesn't respond. You don't repeat the question. You watch yourself broadcast on the TV above the bar. They're commenting on your hair and your arms and going on and on about your likability. Your therapist changes the mood. It's 6:30. He gives the place a nighttime feel. He kills a row of lights and turns on the colored bulbs, the blues and greens. The TV is turned down. The music is turned up. This is what you've been waiting for, the lights, the music. There's an hour before anyone really shows up. You can close your eyes and drift. Two or three drinks pass. A couple walks in. You have your therapist put in for an Uber. Maybe I've been asking the question the wrong way, you say. Oh yeah? the therapist says. Yeah. Maybe the question should be reversed. Maybe the question should be how do you remain desirable to the objects you possess? That seems like a lot of work. Seems like you'd have no sense of self. You'd always be bending. I've been a plus one for a long time. You say bending. But I wouldn't be doing anything new. I already do all these things. But I see them as a compromise. I'm just trying to reframe, you know? Why? your therapist asks. You open your mouth and find no words. You smile. You say you've had too much. You're rambling. You're sorry. You better go.
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56
There inside the chamber sits, Awaiting patiently; Gathering discourse and their wits, To match with Chimpanzee. Primate statues loom the loft, ‘Mongst whitening Baboons; Fidget in their seats too soft, Indifferent of this room. For ghosts of former nobles peek, In shame, as they observe; The power of the abject weak, Enable them to serve. Parrots cackling ‘mongst themselves, As peacocks flaunt their fan; Gorilla preens, while tries to quell, With gavel in his hand. Chimp arises, intently poised, To embellish his appointment; Words rehearsed to fill the void, Deliberate and pointed. For he, and only he, shall reign, While rendering his will Upon the reaches, lakes and plains; ‘Pon feather, fur and gill. Yet irony betrays this horde, Of chosen beasts that thrive, Who seek to witness own accord, On who should live or die. Baboons and the Chimpanzee, May climb to endless heights, Gather fruit from tops of trees, And relish in their might; But those who scrounge upon the ground, Or forage in the sea, Cannot relate to this debate, Nor self-idolatry. So this becomes an exercise, In futile words exchanged; In bartering the truth for lies, Leaves jungle quite estranged. Such is then, the sacrifice, That satisfies this troop: Lions shall compete with mice, For homeland and for food. This seems just, this seems right, So pleased to then arrive, To alter former terms of plight, Ensure the like survive. Commune must have order, Compliance is then deemed; Life must have its borders, Confining self-esteem. Parrots flee to bring the news, Of brighter days ahead; While creatures of the air and blue, Fear the distance spread. Content to reconvene again, As this is their employ; Govern those outside the pen, Such honor they enjoy.
0
Nov 14, 2010
Nov 14, 2010 at 6:08 AM UTC
Congress
There inside the chamber sits, Awaiting patiently; Gathering discourse and their wits, To match with Chimpanzee. Primate statues loom the loft, ‘Mongst whitening Baboons; Fidget in their seats too soft, Indifferent of this room. For ghosts of former nobles peek, In shame, as they observe; The power of the abject weak, Enable them to serve. Parrots cackling ‘mongst themselves, As peacocks flaunt their fan; Gorilla preens, while tries to quell, With gavel in his hand. Chimp arises, intently poised, To embellish his appointment; Words rehearsed to fill the void, Deliberate and pointed. For he, and only he, shall reign, While rendering his will Upon the reaches, lakes and plains; ‘Pon feather, fur and gill. Yet irony betrays this horde, Of chosen beasts that thrive, Who seek to witness own accord, On who should live or die. Baboons and the Chimpanzee, May climb to endless heights, Gather fruit from tops of trees, And relish in their might; But those who scrounge upon the ground, Or forage in the sea, Cannot relate to this debate, Nor self-idolatry. So this becomes an exercise, In futile words exchanged; In bartering the truth for lies, Leaves jungle quite estranged. Such is then, the sacrifice, That satisfies this troop: Lions shall compete with mice, For homeland and for food. This seems just, this seems right, So pleased to then arrive, To alter former terms of plight, Ensure the like survive. Commune must have order, Compliance is then deemed; Life must have its borders, Confining self-esteem. Parrots flee to bring the news, Of brighter days ahead; While creatures of the air and blue, Fear the distance spread. Content to reconvene again, As this is their employ; Govern those outside the pen, Such honor they enjoy.
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60
*Hunger quivers in the heart Waiting for morsel of love Stricken with neglect for long Hand that fed only remorse Deprived of the nutrient of care Heart's muscles weakened Wary from the darkness Cannot feel the soul’s pulse Abject penury of feelings Drove the loving heart to sink Now lying in comatose*
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Aug 6, 2014
Aug 6, 2014 at 9:38 AM UTC
Famished Heart
I feel like a lost little boy in the woods looking for a way out. HELP! HELP! I yell, yet no one answers I cannot handle these emotions turmoiling inside me I'm in hell I'm in ecstacy I'm no where in between love is a drug that cannot be compared it carries me to the absolute brink of the precipice and I stare down into the abyss that awaits to engulf me and devour my very being, my soul, I can't help but smile and laugh hysterically as I fall, I am absolutely elated and at the same time feel the abject terror flooding into the very core of my whole existence.  It is exhilarating.  I am in ******* agony I am in ******* intense beautiful rapture. I am skydiving without a parachute watching the ground scream towards me. I want to stay in free fall forever.
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Mar 6, 2016
Mar 6, 2016 at 11:00 PM UTC
Skydiving without a Parachute
He loved to teach... He loved to teach her... He loved to teach her abject lessons       in elevators and on stairwells. She hated to learn... She hated to learn from him... She hated to learn from him the inherent        danger of buildings.
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Dec 3, 2019
Dec 3, 2019 at 2:32 AM UTC
The Inherent Danger of Buildings
I see the sad color of racism not every other day But every second of the hour, all minutes of the day I see the serious mental and physical damages That this cancer has done throughout the ages And is still doing to our beloved human beings The others treat our People like they are leftover beans On a petty pet's plate. Our people deserve respect Fairness, justice, equality, acknowledgement Compassion, credit and better treatment Our sisters are tired of being left out on the deck Our siblings are often harassed senselessly, persecuted Falsely accused and relentlessly prosecuted At one time, they were hunted and hounded by the system At other time, hindered and haunted by an organized medium Created to attack, destroy, burn, ravage and annihilate To embarrass, marginalize, ridicule, punish and discriminate I see the color of racism, when the police for no apparent reasons Stopped, frisked and handcuffed our homeless, our elderlies Or our law abiding citizens, like it was open seasons To hunt for mule deer or bears, who behave like enemies Of the civilized society. I see the sick color of racism When our people are not hired not for being unqualified But because of their skin color; they're quickly disqualified Dismissed, fired or terminated. I see the monster of cynicism All golly minutes of the day. The arrogance is unparalleled Beyond belief. The racists forgot that God only created one race One human race, one human race, one **** human race. Their false pride, their fake supremacy, their ignorance is unleveled And their audacity is incomparable. I see the colors of racism Not that I want to search for them, not that I want to find them Most of the time, I simply cannot elude, evade or escape them It is not easy to ignore the litanies of bad or negative mannerisms The bigots easily function like virulent or venomous vipers That **** out the emotions, and that destroy all positive characters Our lives, Black lives, like other lives, are sacramental and important And our contributions to the world are significant I see the ugly and surly color of racism not every other day But every second of the hour, every minute of the **** day. Copyright © February 24,2015, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.
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Sep 11, 2025
Sep 11, 2025 at 1:07 AM UTC
The Color Of Abject Racism
I see the sad color of racism not every other day But every second of the hour, all minutes of the day I see the serious mental and physical damages That this cancer has done throughout the ages And is still doing to our beloved human beings The others treat our People like they are leftover beans On a petty pet's plate. Our people deserve respect Fairness, justice, equality, acknowledgement Compassion, credit and better treatment Our sisters are tired of being left out on the deck Our siblings are often harassed senselessly, persecuted Falsely accused and relentlessly prosecuted At one time, they were hunted and hounded by the system At other time, hindered and haunted by an organized medium Created to attack, destroy, burn, ravage and annihilate To embarrass, marginalize, ridicule, punish and discriminate I see the color of racism, when the police for no apparent reasons Stopped, frisked and handcuffed our homeless, our elderlies Or our law abiding citizens, like it was open seasons To hunt for mule deer or bears, who behave like enemies Of the civilized society. I see the sick color of racism When our people are not hired not for being unqualified But because of their skin color; they're quickly disqualified Dismissed, fired or terminated. I see the monster of cynicism All golly minutes of the day. The arrogance is unparalleled Beyond belief. The racists forgot that God only created one race One human race, one human race, one **** human race. Their false pride, their fake supremacy, their ignorance is unleveled And their audacity is incomparable. I see the colors of racism Not that I want to search for them, not that I want to find them Most of the time, I simply cannot elude, evade or escape them It is not easy to ignore the litanies of bad or negative mannerisms The bigots easily function like virulent or venomous vipers That **** out the emotions, and that destroy all positive characters Our lives, Black lives, like other lives, are sacramental and important And our contributions to the world are significant I see the ugly and surly color of racism not every other day But every second of the hour, every minute of the **** day. Copyright © February 24,2015, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.
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40
Nigeria 🇳🇬 A lot has happened to you since 62 You're a year older, and still most of your kin hates you They forget how they may not exist without you Yes! You are on the brink of hell, To say your name has been marred with gutter An act from most of your children You have suffered the injustices of men We hear cries of your children in the North Thousands of hooligans in the South-West There is so much bad blood in the East The Middle Belt doesn't know her role or who to follow Your name has been berated all over the world Your currency, at the brink of death with the stock market Stolen funds for those who can grasp it Banditry for the suffering Masses Illegal mining, yet no one is talking about it You have suffered bickerings from people who want to _Japa_ A fluctuating forex makes it no easier They blame you for their atrocious behaviour They sometimes forget how fertile you are. Nigeria! From East-West and North-South, you have suffered injustices For decades, you have been subject to malicious governance Battling all levels of inflation, subjecting your people to abject poverty Yet the rich get richer, and the poor? More Jejune if you ask. At 63, I want to fight. For your children and kinship Fight for your soil and regain your strength Battle with these injustices and insecurity Bring down inflation and take back your crown Debunk all forms of evil committed with your name And fight for a better 64. Nigeria is great, Nigeria will be great Nigeria is our father's land. Happy Independence Day, Nigeria 🇳🇬 Bellah.
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Oct 1, 2023
Oct 1, 2023 at 3:59 AM UTC
Nigeria at 63
Nigeria 🇳🇬 A lot has happened to you since 62 You're a year older, and still most of your kin hates you They forget how they may not exist without you Yes! You are on the brink of hell, To say your name has been marred with gutter An act from most of your children You have suffered the injustices of men We hear cries of your children in the North Thousands of hooligans in the South-West There is so much bad blood in the East The Middle Belt doesn't know her role or who to follow Your name has been berated all over the world Your currency, at the brink of death with the stock market Stolen funds for those who can grasp it Banditry for the suffering Masses Illegal mining, yet no one is talking about it You have suffered bickerings from people who want to _Japa_ A fluctuating forex makes it no easier They blame you for their atrocious behaviour They sometimes forget how fertile you are. Nigeria! From East-West and North-South, you have suffered injustices For decades, you have been subject to malicious governance Battling all levels of inflation, subjecting your people to abject poverty Yet the rich get richer, and the poor? More Jejune if you ask. At 63, I want to fight. For your children and kinship Fight for your soil and regain your strength Battle with these injustices and insecurity Bring down inflation and take back your crown Debunk all forms of evil committed with your name And fight for a better 64. Nigeria is great, Nigeria will be great Nigeria is our father's land. Happy Independence Day, Nigeria 🇳🇬 Bellah.
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36
black lung whispered abject terror in my ears a circle of candles and closed eyes made plainly naked by the thought of you beneath the rising tide i poured raw honey down your abyssal throat stole a different form and fell into your arms only sweet goodbyes as i grabbed my overcoat
0
Dec 5, 2017
Dec 5, 2017 at 9:11 AM UTC
changeling