"assassinating" poems
The world is darker than it’s ever been and deeper than my life is anything but fair skin a nation divided by one thing that ties to another thing that ties to another and that one thing is what ties me to a dear friend that I call my brother
This hue I was cursed with I mean this shade I was born with I mean this tone that I was blessed with, Sometimes I’m even confused myself on what kind of gift this tinted skin is for me
I know we come from Kings whose land is rich in gold and other imperial things
But if I may be so bold or brave to say that even now white people still know how to make my people feel as if they are still enslaved
We’re stuck in a hole a certain way of living , a certain way of thinking “the mission of life is to get money the fast way even if it is the ski mask way" only thinking about the right now willing to predict the next 5 years of your life to fill what’s not in your pockets all cause you gotta get the money gotta get the money gotta get the money gotta get the money gotta get the money but you end up with no money plus ain’t nothing funny when your days ain’t sunny and your little sonny is born and you are still reaping the benefits from making your piece of change
Even if it’s not in our heads some white people never changed their minds about the way they feel about this skin tone of mine
I am Trayvon … one night I was riding my bike with a handful of my friends moving from spot to spot as we followed our plans and we had a personal escort that followed us for about a mile but he didn’t say hi or stop to ask for directions it just seems like they get off or get an ******** from putting blacks back in the chains we were once in
I am Django … young black dude no chains bro contractually assassinating to get all that I live for and showing the my community that there is a better way to live
The night is dark but in due time it will change we need to mentally put down these chains and make way toward the North Star especially in the midst of the rain, But it’s hard to believe pleasure in a life full of pain
Aug 4, 2013
Aug 4, 2013 at 3:13 PM UTC
Beautiful soul
I wanna bear it all
Pink lips, tan skin
Every second with you is sin
I want us naked
It's hard but we can make it
Our love can defy all the laws
I wanna see all of your flaws
I wanna touch the light coming out of it
Let's tangled our lights where it can fit
Slowly assassinating my soul
You are the best thing I've ever hold
Poison or cure
I'll sip it if you pour
Jun 6, 2019
Jun 6, 2019 at 2:04 AM UTC
I’m coming out my coma like a Russian spy sleeper, and I be assassinating these ******* while wearing some fuzzy slippers. I’m a boss, I’m a goat, and if you got a problem with it, imma put my foot down your throat.
Racial profiling defined me, stereotypes and statistics shunned me.
**** my progress before I even start, I can’t even enjoy myself on a sunny day in the park.
All because I hit that racial profiling mark, for the white man only see’s me as a pitbull and aren’t willing to hear me talk,
for all they hear is a threatening bark.
Man that’s ruff!
Better Put em in cuffs!
Better yet put him down before he hurts someone, so I have no choice but to take out my guns.
Grew up with a disadvantage, grew up with traditional racist cultural norms that left me to fend for myself in this garbage. Plus drugs be flowing through my neighbour hood, and that’s the only way you make money and afford school and food.
So to survive I Gotta do what I gotta do, so why judge me ***** because if you were in my position what would you do? When you haven’t got a chance to prove yourself a winner for capitalism already has decided you to be a loser.
No safety net, nor is there a invisible hand to get ya out of debt.
Gotta fend for yourself in this world full of hyenas, and if there is a God out there why isn’t he defending us?
Hook:
Internalized designs,
Set up the designs that confine,
That blind us from seeing inside.
Can’t sleep when Im under the microscope.
Can’t speak when people in power have taken away my throat.
Verse 2:
With no one wanting to see things from my lens.
From my scope.
When no one wants to hear what I can lend to make amends.
As they just think I’m on dope.
But This is just the inter-scope of an insomniac.
The reason I can’t sleep.
The reason I’m deemed a freak.
The reason there’s a divide.
The reason why many commit suicide.
Because what’s the point of living,
If no one’s willing to listen to your side.
When no one is willing to acknowledge their privilege.
When it doesn’t matter if your indigenous and proud when society still sees you as a savage?
When your given a one way ticket to prison.
When in all honesty where else is there to go?
With most our language and culture lost and land stolen.
Government has taken away everything precious from us like golem.
And totem pole effects leaves us internally broken.
With everyone believing themselves to be the victim.
And never apart of what lead to the problem.
Hook:
Internalized designs,
Set up the designs that confine,
That blind us from seeing inside.
Can’t sleep when Im under the microscope.
Can’t speak when people in power have taken away my throat.
Dec 20, 2018
Dec 20, 2018 at 1:59 AM UTC
The first day we spoke
I wanted to call you mine.
When you said goodnight
I couldn't help but wonder;
What had I been doing all my life?
If somewhere in the future
There would be an us?
When you wanted to make
me a part of you
I thought I would lose you
Because you had to fight for it,
Because I was already a part of something,
Because I refused to choose
the unknown over what I already had.
Regardless that was you that I wanted
And it tore me inside-
Our happiness would be somebody's pain.
You came and changed everything;
Good and bad.
Soon though we became murders
constantly assassinating our emotions.
Your jealousy of who came before you
drove us apart
But you made sacrifices
Which left me powerless and entranced-
You had me. No matter what.
Despite the pain and the tears:
You had me. And always would.
Loving you is hard,
Fighting is a constant
and soon the inevitable became clear:
We would be over.
I got tired of fighting for you
and the draining routine of convincing you of the love I have for you.
So I did the un-imaginable...
I stopped believing in what we had.
I gave up loving you.
I hated the feeling of insecurity we fed each other -like we were never enough and had to seek other ventures.
The lies you told cut deep because you were secretly saying I am not worth the truth
And in the end you told me
"You're worthless"
What we had was real to me
And though I hate what we went through
I still love you
And sadly:
I am still in love with you.
Apr 17, 2014
Apr 17, 2014 at 10:51 AM UTC
~
broad brushes
are unsuitable
instruments
of box-making,
group-judging,
individual-assassinating,
of any group
or citizen,
becoming
wall-building
words that bite,
that wound,
that ****
all that is
loving and genteel!
but they are
the perfect
implement,
for painting
the most beautiful,
sea-to-shining-sea
landscape
works of art!
~
*post script.
collectively, undivided, are we not better than this? and need we wait for others to become the mortar for city-building-on-a-hill activities?*
Jan 29, 2017
Jan 29, 2017 at 1:49 PM UTC
Testify to your right,
Declare anarchy upon the enemy.
Swing your sword.
Take down the king.
Rebellious servant,
Assassinating your master.
Saviour of slaves,
To escape Hell's kingdom.
Nov 7, 2014
Nov 7, 2014 at 8:30 AM UTC
i am the father of these words yet,
these mischievous children
run away in the loquacious dark
chasing lithe-clothed, supple-limbed
girls whirling up and about the prairie
of these versifications without home
in mind or remembering —
(the home of my mind wary of
the past and its old cobwebs,
or the slaughter of ordinariness
with a dull blade poised to cull,
these mindful creatures assassinating
diaphanous muses disrobing themselves,
serpents shedding their integuments.)
oh and when they return home sullied,
after a day's squalid scamper past
the muck, the twitch of atmosphere,
the horizon ladled with clouds
in white metamorphosis, i remove their
clothes and send them to the fences of sleep — impish dream-callers,
yes I am the father of these words
and they flourish, swelling up, learning
to harangue their own father, sending
him to borderless retreat.
Oct 8, 2015
Oct 8, 2015 at 9:08 AM UTC
Grenades of insults
Boarders of hatred
Blood splattering of assassinating memories
Soldiers suffering from post traumatic stress disorder
Yet fighting for pride
Pride that devours a person’s humility
Never giving in and daring to say two life changing words
“I’m sorry”
Dangerous yet calming syllable of deceive
A couple of words than can collide a feud of two countries that were once allies
Those who were once able to live under the same roof
Citizens terrorized at the sound of screeches coming from these once upon an allies
Never knowing about stability and peace
Feb 21, 2015
Feb 21, 2015 at 2:25 PM UTC
There's a body on that park bench,
the new attraction in this town.
They don't know how it got there,
but it has certainly been found.
By passerbys who were passing time
seeing the body sitting there
and not saying a word to anyone
because no one cares.
It's just another body
and it gets recorded in the system.
Writing off a human life
as another simple statistic.
Because that's what we are to most
a number thrown around carelessly.
Twisted, abused just to make a point
normally by political parties.
Funny how the body was not reported,
not recorded as a public statistic.
Until the smell of what once was
turned rotten and horrific.
Then it could not be ignored anymore,
people reported its presence
and glared with arrogant eyes
at a shell that once contained a life.
The lack of compassion so evident
that it could make those of good heart
turn to more evil spirits
drinking until they fall apart.
Then the spectators open their mouths
and words of disgrace would escape
assassinating the character of the dead.
Killing them all over again.
I'd have killed them if I could
people like them are no good.
© Tatiana
Jun 11, 2018
Jun 11, 2018 at 12:14 AM UTC
pious claptrap of hubbub
across the room;
you are some slender bridge
over my waters
skimpy passage, bend so obscure
there is something
that i always take
away from you
and there is almost always too
something frequently given
back to me like a stare
even so you are eyeless
and still despite having eyes
and tender with movement,
our silence pointing out
the salacious clasp of shadow's muck
on the repugnant wall,
there is so much in common
to a body of sea and a headless sun,
where sometimes when you enter
my mind, i purposefully leap
out of it freely moving, hovering
in austere blankness, almost
cerebrally assassinating imaginations
and their claimed realness,
wishing you were somewhere far
yet within the eye to hold closer.
Oct 27, 2015
Oct 27, 2015 at 12:29 AM UTC
Yellow and boyish
From my construction phase as
A child with big dreams
Dump trucks and cement pourers
With cranes assassinating
Jul 19, 2016
Jul 19, 2016 at 2:02 PM UTC
She is a shoreline full of coves and cliffs.
Do not ask her to tell you where it begins or ends.
Damaged footprints stalk her recyclable judgments.
Scars reared up like cinematic poltergeist waves assassinating city lights.
Her spells weave in front of the bonfire my eyes cannot pull away from.
Strip teased by flames she weaves my opal necklace out of moonlight embedded sand.
She is a treasure chest full of jade.
Walking blindly,
I locked myself inside for days
barely escaping with my life.
Her cool blue vampire lips kissed
the death of innocence goodnight.
My rampant ink wrenched engines apart
nowhere to go except
out to sea once more.
Floating on braids of her hair
planks of our ship
recklessly cannon blasted by holes of our own self loaded rejection.
Stuck forsaken,
no worthy priest around when wolves dress in sheep's clothing.
Better off floating like an auburn leaf catching a rogue wave to wonderland.
Crash land on zero point
walk ghosted shores of her
Run
Away
Eyes
as if memory never existed.
Apr 11, 2018
Apr 11, 2018 at 2:16 PM UTC
I
Neo Soviet sleeper cells lying in wait
Or just crossing the border at varied places
Troop checkpoints or a forest path
Or by HALO jump from a plane
Doing their job changing the landscape
Not chopping down trees
But assassinating those on the list
Culling the ones who were an issue
That Putin wanted dead out of the way
Mar 4, 2022
Mar 4, 2022 at 8:25 PM UTC