"bulldozed" poems
For 21 days I saw changes wrought
by the freedom of 22 years
Secrets of razor wire straight and taut
Speak of those who continue to fear
I saw nature’s beauty in land and face
As black heel continues to rise
Via school, ambition they prep for the race
Even as secretly despised
What’s changed in Soweto? I did not live
But photos and newsreels survive
Pictures of shanties bulldozed to give
Whites room to extend their hives
Now malls; monuments to white retail
Built on Mandiba’s words
Polished chrome and marble hail
“Happy” workers in a black-faced world
Monuments ringed with vendors tribal
Carved goods for sale and cheap
The rands they make do not rival
What multi-nationals’ continue to reap
Happiness is shallow until sundown
When the curtain of decorum lifts
Showing reality’s new shanty-town
Where space and plumbing are gifts
I wonder if He would be okay
Seeing his people so used
As pawns for labor with little say
As black is seldom excused
The young know the time is now
As old hatred’s in shallow graves
To be unearthed by book and plow
Keeping dreams from stunting and fade
Oct 12, 2016
Oct 12, 2016 at 8:48 AM UTC
I am ashamed, Sister!
I live in a house, I want to renovate.
Yours was bulldozed, now you live in a tent.
I need a new car, trade the old one away.
You lost your feet in a bombing yesterday.
I sleep so cozy and warm in a king size bed.
You find comfort in the cold hard floor instead.
Something doesn't work out I'll complain to everyone.
While you hide your tears when you lose someone.
My freezer is full with samosas and pies.
Your tummy sounds are muffled by rockets and cries.
I open my fast with plenty food in my plate.
You are thankful for that single date.
I do some chores my back is sore.
You lost your sons your pain is much more.
My Eid clothes are bought, few hundreds gone.
You were forced to leave with the clothes you had on.
I need a few holidays throughout the year.
You won't abandon your land despite the fear.
I have everything yet I still want more.
You just want peace, the end of this war.
Despite all this you are closer to Allah then I'll ever be.
So I am ashamed sister, ashamed for being me!
Jul 26, 2014
Jul 26, 2014 at 2:50 PM UTC
I ripped our love apart.
I defiled it.
Whatever we had I graffitied all over,
I sprayed noxious fumes over a work of art.
And you're gone.
I ate our love up.
Devoured it.
We had a four course meal planned out.
I ate the desert before the meal began.
And you're gone.
I bulldozed our love.
Destroyed it.
We were architects for not just a building, a city.
I burned the plans, the structures.
And you're gone.
I killed our love.
Murdered it.
a life of
Your pit bull and
hairless cat and
motorcycle
Workbench
-did you ever take that course?
love
Your eyes when they were seventy.
When we were on shrooms,
I hallucinated you at seventy.
I started crying because you were so beautiful.
That was before I went homicidal.
But you are gone.
And I don't blame you.
Aug 20, 2013
Aug 20, 2013 at 4:25 AM UTC
Your use of words
of late, I have noticed,
seize the cold light of day
snowball the pack ice
send a shudder down the spine
hail the dawn of an audible ice age
lest if only
One would listen
that loquacious nature
left to stew in the freezer
the embodiment of toxic wine
your preferred after taste;
the sediment of choice
demands a selective palate
we have bulldozed
The Garden of Eden
now only the Snake remains
offering the bitter-sweet apple
to those who oblige
pave the way for emotions
to argue their objections
a subjective nature
in acerbic tones
fierce and unwavering;
the adulation of the Other
A raised eyebrow
denotes a self-centred assuredness
that anyone else
with a deft hand for art or language
is clearly a copy of the blueprint
your ingenious creation;
such is the intellect you abide by
that of your own reckoning
Your argument
is the passing of an iceberg
perhaps fleeting
the early evening;
the disingenuous melt
of your carbon-cloaked temper
My riposte
will be your undoing
defeat by the warmth
of the passing Sun;
embrace that which you chase
see what you dont see
agree to disagree
is the sympathy
for your antipathy
Nov 28, 2012
Nov 28, 2012 at 1:52 PM UTC
New day, with dawn of rising sun
off the docks, cruising towards horizon
light and breezy all, felt like blessed by Poseidon
Skinny dipping for happiness, hope I find some.
Many I got bon voyage, many I curses,
many were on board, many kraken lurks.
Head straight, high sail,
ignored all, focused on right trail.
Pleasant journey until now, premonitions around,
dark clouds, high tide, ensuing panic in crowd,
blinded became Travis, undermined the upcoming crisis
Darkness engulfed, realized too late, next moment...
**** hit the fan down came the rain,
followed by storm and a huge hurricane.
Bulldozed through, but that's just iceberg's tip,
it's gonna be titanic soon, already feel like losing grip.
Beyond horizon, can't see,
calm sea or whirlpool will there be.
All I know, strength of these sails,
sailors and that mysterious gentle gale.
May 25, 2022
May 25, 2022 at 9:52 AM UTC
I cling to him,
Mascara stains his shirt
Like ink blotches on a left wrist.
Oh, how deeply, deeply
Sweetly –
Completely I feel this pain
Burrowed in the most hidden corner of my soul
Patched like cancer on the walls of my lungs
And Oh, how deeply, deeply
Sweetly –
Complete and utterly
Did we weep and wail through the darkness of that night
Tears cried by dull-ember fireside
This hurts more than we ever thought it could
Crocodile eyes ooze wet and hot
Figures entangle themselves in desperation
Words are few yet heart-wrenching
The strongest among us are bulldozed into flat implacability
Sorrow inhabits the cracks in my soul
Like chalk smeared across concrete.
Weep dear children,
Not ready to grow up
Weep dear friends,
For the depth of your love
Weep dear graduates
When morning comes you’ll have to leave
Weep for this country, that stained you and changed you
Weep for the institution, that burned you and bettered you
Weep for the people, who loved and supported you
Weep for your childhood, that carried you from birth to here
Weep, sweet alumni for all that you’re losing
For all the departure
For all the uncertainty
For all the promises that will be broken
And friendships that will not be kept up
Weep over the map
And curse the dividing waters
Weep my beloveds,
Deny yourselves no tears
Weep deeply
Weep deeply
Weep sweetly
Weep completely
Weep utterly and totally and whole-heartedly
Weep because this matters more than anything ever has
Weep because this has been the most beautiful and devine gift
Weep because you’ve been pierced to the core,
Debilitated by the most far-reaching love imaginable
And weep because
The world is expansive,
The oceans are deep and the lands are wide
The people are numerous and the cultures are diverse
The opportunities are endless
The combinations are infinite
Your life is long
And your future is full of immense possibility
But you will never have this again,
So weep.
Jun 19, 2014
Jun 19, 2014 at 8:10 AM UTC
We have bulldozed the Garden of Eden;
we are nothing more than a parasite with an unending appetite
for destruction in the name of civilization.
Our monstrous monumental achievements can be viewed from space;
we are the cataclysmic legion, the unbeaten ****** the demon of freedom
with the desire to demolish and impoverish the last bastion arboretum.
We are mad and frenzied in our passion;
we are the phantasm assassin choking the very lungs we use to breathe
the misanthrope who carves materialistic thrones to sit on and wait for exalted death while we replant trees in self-centered glorification of hope.
We are doomed and we know it, but we still don't care;
we question science and bemoan nature for wreaking havoc, stare into the microscope looking for answers in the reverent appliance of defiance waiting to find the sparks to eternal life there.
We are the envy, the mistrust, the sadist and the snake;
we squabble over the scraps of apple peel and douse ourselves in ice cubes
whilst far away some African child walks 50 miles for a sip of clean water
we are the plague of mistakes broadcasting hurricanes to entertain.
We have bulldozed The Garden of Eden
now only the snake remains and there is no escape
freely offering the apple peel to those who obligingly accept
our epitaph will read:
humanity stepped back
to be overshadowed by an ape.
Aug 20, 2014
Aug 20, 2014 at 12:39 PM UTC
Illusions come in many forms, many guises.
They often take shape, many forms many sizes.
A blank canvas or blank slate
our minds create
--children of our imagination.
Identities bulldozed by need
we rush to plant the seed
to quickly take its form,
tender and loving
or lustful and cunning
we miss the deception
see only reflection
and crassly miss the person
beneath its shackles.
The canvas a prison
is passive, not active
releases its captive
to our great surprise.
"I thought that you loved me"
"and how could you hurt me?"
with sorrowful tone
we cry "I'm alone."
The romance is ended
the love you defended
was never to be
you just could not see--
and somewhere we see them
departing in freedom
but often we miss the whole point.
True love's not possessing,
will not be repressing,
will not be demanding
nor will it be binding.
True love will empower
does not make one cower
it gives us the strength
to be happy and free.
And should you still ponder
the nature of wonder
be troubled no more
just open the door
let jealousy burn
And if they return
your joy will be great
for it is your fate
that they'll leave you no more.
J. Sandy
May 5, 2013
May 5, 2013 at 1:56 PM UTC
(part 1)
Have you forgotten us?
We, who, taken from our homes
Our families and friends
Were shunted like cattle
In railway boxes fit for pigs
Yet treated worse than either.
Have you forgotten us?
We, who were stamped and numbered
Stripped and tortured
Bruised and beaten
Used as playthings for perverted men.
Have you forgotten us?
We, who were stripped naked
And bundled into innocent looking rooms
Whose clinical stench
Belayed their hidden purpose.
Have you forgotten us?
We, who screamed with terror
Drowning the laughs
Of those outside
As steel faucets
Belched forth death.
Have you forgotten us?
We, the millions of children
Who like rotting manure
Were bulldozed into
Bottomless pits
Turning them into mountains.
(part 2)
Have you forgotten us?
You, who protest so loudly, so bitterly
Against the use of animals
In scientific experiments.
No one protested
When they used us.
Have you forgotten us
You, who care so much for your old
Your sick and your disabled,
Our old were clubbed to death
Our sick were left to die
Our disabled were used for sport.
Have you forgotten us?
You, who lovingly protect your children.
Ours were wrenched away from us
Ours were used for ****** perversions,
Ours were skinned alive.
No one protected them.
Have you forgotten us?
You, who found the camps
The massive ovens
The mountains of bodies
The hoards of hair and teeth
The human skinned lampshades.
Have you forgotten us?
You, who murdered us.
Are you deaf to our cries?
Were they simply orders?
Were you just soldiers?
Didn’t you really know?
Have you forgotten us?
You the world we left behind.
Can thirty years really dull
Your memory of it all?
Did it really happen?
Wasn’t it all exaggerated?
(part 3)
So now we look down
We thirty million or so
At the indifference
The political cover-ups
The bland excuses
The half-hearted attempts at justice.
The murderers who live
In luxury and power
The monsters of earth
Who created hell
The generation who forgot
The generation who never knew
The generation who will never know
The jackboots
The ********
The Nazis’ salute
(part 4)
Yes you have forgotten us.
Mar 31, 2010
Mar 31, 2010 at 6:58 AM UTC
I won’t forget the way you shared your bed with her while I carried your child in my womb
I won’t forget the way you bulldozed my grace and love just because I would rebloom
I won’t forget the way you left me standing in the streets of Montreal—the reckless, frigid free-for-all
I won’t forget our heart-to-hearts, fall-aparts, fresh-starts
I won’t forget our once shared-dreams, fire-water color schemes; tip-toeing, balance-beams
I won’t forget your lack of self-acceptance; your fear, resistance, dependence
I won’t forget the way you disguise your loneliness; insecurity, disappointment—
your selfishness; inconsistency, vacant empathy
I won’t forget your impatience; porcelain ego, complacence
I won’t forget the way you’d kiss my feet; plead for forgiveness; make promises, repeat
I won’t forget an honest memory of you—instability, volatility
But I will only ever wish you depth, perspective, and humility
May 10, 2018
May 10, 2018 at 5:40 PM UTC
The olives groves you uprooted
And the homes you bulldozed
They may be gone now
But the soil must still know
To whom the land belongs.
From the rubble,
From the blood,
New branches will grow.
New homes will rise.
Because doves will fly on blood specked wings
To pass on the message
That Palestine still sings:
of the children you shot
and the blood that you spilled
The young men you imprisoned
and the hope you hoped would rot.
Our children have been promised
Your so-called promised land
So don't get too comfortable
On my well-worn couch.
I'll come back to reclaim it
My couch, my country, my land.
Sep 30, 2012
Sep 30, 2012 at 8:48 PM UTC
I went on a walk today
I took a different route than I usually take
Snaked through parts of my past i usually avoid
For the sorrow or the nostalgia they bring me
Past the elementary school I went to in the 4th grade
Where i made friends with bullies and wore sparkly shoes
Past the house i nannied in for probably a week before i disappeared back into the bottle
And, by accident, really, past the house i later had my first one night stand
But it wasn’t there
It had been demolished and in its place lay a field of snow with a sign announcing a new building project
I was struck with a surprising delight
The idea that part of my past was literally bulldozed felt miraculous
It occurred to me for seemingly the first time
That things really do change
Things leave and new things take their place
As sedentary as my life has become
It’s hard to believe that anything takes on a new form
Across the street from the empty lot is Liberty Park
A park i’ve avoided like the plague for the past few years
I can hardly stand to look at it
But after seeing the remnants of my drunken hookup destroyed
I felt compelled to step onto the park’s outskirts
A flashback of walking with my ****** to get smokes came
And i stood as i watched myself slink along the grass with him
I saw the way she couldn’t breathe and couldn’t think
And i hugged her and she stepped inside of my body
And we walked
Then sprinted up the path
Saying goodbye, goodbye, goodbye, goodbye
Jan 10, 2019
Jan 10, 2019 at 3:39 PM UTC
You started to leave as the cold nose of Winter
bulldozed through Guy Fawks skies
and Christmas silent nights.
Your nearness was a far plane
of slumped reflection, deliberation,
contemplation of your plight, so mine.
Suspicion stirred in morning tea
and pre-work niceties.
You watched me when I turned my back,
your head buried in the ‘Daily Mail’,
too close to the print.
Denial hugged me a long while, dismissing
the cosseted phone and obsessive hygiene.
Giggling-head days, home-fire Wednesdays,
pledges in sweat daze
all rolling around
on a distant carousel.
I hoped you could see,
but hope could not override
your turning tide.
Your eyes begged for the ‘talk’,
so you could bring it up
like rancid *****
Coward
You left in a yellow haze with the daffodils,
and I hated you
with all the love anyone could imagine.
Jan 30, 2016
Jan 30, 2016 at 4:59 PM UTC
Two paths diverged in the woods,
and we bulldozed them into a
highway, didn't we comrades?
That is called progress.
Now the commute to work
is manageable, like our
limited resources.
Nov 20, 2013
Nov 20, 2013 at 2:22 PM UTC
Have I lost what I’m just beginning to realize
is most important to my heart’s longing for home?
I was formed in this comforting hurting place of greens and golds and blues.
Help me,
I’m crying in the home-sickness of my bulldozed childhood house.
The rain that blurs my tears,
The fog that hides my fears,
The cold that gives warmth to what’s dear.
Like my memories slipping,
This sense of security feels,
lost.
Dec 10, 2018
Dec 10, 2018 at 9:43 PM UTC
I don't think I can take it any more
Their screaming is tearing me apart
From the haven of my blanket fort
I hear them going at it again
Yet this futile fight I know who'll win.
My eyes shut tight
Hoping mum will finally be heard
Yet as the sobbing begins and the voices lower
My heart drags realizing
Dad bulldozed her heart again.
Thus I resume to act again
Like their dumb girl who didn't
Just wipe her tears away
And plaster on a cheesy grin.
The despairing girl whose heart yearns
To end all the acting
And confront the reason why
Her family is tearing apart
Whether it mends or breaks
The foolish acting would at least come to an end
Jul 29, 2015
Jul 29, 2015 at 1:24 PM UTC
196 lb
average male weight
ego not included
156 lb
average female weight
although one spoken sentence hits like a ton of bricks
20 lb
unsaid words,
searing, left in your throat
10 lb
“It won’t happen again”
guns for vocal chords
40 lb
a dead car battery
25 lb
for every bullet he left inside her spirit
a scale says 167 pounds
body mass measured
heavy heart unaccounted
19.30 g
roughly the weight of a wedding ring
she’s seen three removed from three different fingers
1.5 g
enough for six rotations
enough to feel zero
1.5 oz
enough for a shot
take six to feel a hundred
10 million tons
the weight of a star
10 million tons
the thought of her
we are loaded
dense
filled
made-to-break
paper-made
carbon-bounded
heart-strung
fire-resistant
the weight we carry is not the
numbers on the scale
we are much more than the pounds we gain
the aches that we hold
the tears that did not fall
living with a hallowed heart does not make it any less heavier
these light words were not meant for these paper limbs
gravity could care less
we are pressured
felt
squeezed
until broken
forevermore
built strong
lasts shortly
bulldozed by just one fallowed swoop
we are demolished
you could build your vessel as ravenous and as merciless as you can
only to be held down by the world
we are defied
measured
counted
hated
loved
we are
Dec 16, 2015
Dec 16, 2015 at 11:31 PM UTC
*Courage? *
It does not lie at the end of a rifle
Nor does it explode with a grenade or a pistol,
It does not march with platoons
Nor does it rise with the wrath of nations,
It does not spit or rage
Nor does it whip in hate,
It does not attack the old
Nor does it cage the young or infirm,
It does not torture
Nor does it trap the breath of dissent,
*Courage? *
It sings upon the lips of children
Who fear no uniformed evil,
It beats at the heart of truth’s valley
Where a beleaguered generation waits for hope,
It is the flower bursting forth in the fertile earth of the homeless
Whose schools are bulldozed into dry desert dust,
It fights and floats from the fists of Freedom’s orphaned children,
In their wide open palms they free the heart of courage,
Courage cannot be caught nor in any barrack taught,
Courage is the food that fuels Liberty’s true fire.
Dec 21, 2011
Dec 21, 2011 at 7:54 AM UTC
when the world was cruel
and you impair
you were alone
and had no give back
when you were bulldozed
for aims you never had
your personality was rescind
and disguised to regular
when you had no choice to
leave and move ahead
you bore the odium of nugatory pack
when you were so good
and gave all your best
you were loathed
and clepe as bad
times when heartbroken you cried to sleep
your head under pillow
words unavowed bide
You turned cold with FIRE inside
it would have been better
IF YOUR SILENCE SPOKE OTHERWISE ....
May 24, 2019
May 24, 2019 at 8:57 AM UTC
The Tree of peace
A very old olive tree, owned by a Palestinian,
so ancient that it might have given shade to
the carpenter Joseph when he was resting under
its shade a hot August lunch time and contemplating
his sons’ futures, was bulldozed this morning.
No big deal you may say, and I agreed with everything
must come to an end, even olive trees, only
the perennial was got rid of because the Israeli
army’s snipers needed a clear view of the village
where people, who didn’t like their regime, live.
Sep 7, 2016
Sep 7, 2016 at 6:16 AM UTC
Straight on a plain, miles with the blowing wind.
Miles on a plane, nowhere near the mountain ranges,
nowhere near the Atlantic shore, no lapping sounds -
Just your gentle breathing
I’m just happy you’re alive.
This bulldozed land is barren,
dry like my eyes like a dirt road.
I’m stung on the arm by an imaginary bee,
flung out the open window.
This reminds me of the pleasantries we exchanged.
How polite we used to be.
And now your tired arm is slung over the wheel
angry with me. “Can you just
shut the **** up.” I’m not saying anything.
Let’s pull over at the next petrol station
get some Red Bull and make out like we’re American.
Lick the sting. Does it taste like Pepsi?
Can I be your blonde baby or your Barbie?
These dust clouds are haloing the sun,
as we sing out loud and off tune harmony.
It’s just you and me and nowhere baby.
So use me up until I’m gone. Drag on me
like a cigarette and extinguish me on the lawn.
---------------------------------------------------------
Nowhereland.
Head ready to burst
like elastic bands around a watermelon.
I’ve been getting angry.
Snappy again.
The long drive has left me whacked,
our conversation gone putrid,
the air swimming with expletives.
Hay bales.
Green fields.
Lost track of how many.
Wasn’t counting anyway.
Into sixth gear then.
South Dakotan sun
stretches into the car,
over your body;
I knew it well. I know it well.
The milometer slides
to fifty-seven thousand
and the silence stings my skin
like a small fresh burn
so I raise my voice - your mouth is closed.
I toss an empty Coke can out the window,
hear it scuttle over hot grey road.
Then you begin to sing, so I sing. Why?
Awful. Wrong key. Don’t care.
You look across,
destroy me so well,
the tumbling heart in a tower of cards.
I know. Stop the car.
Find a bar.
Let’s numb ourselves together
so we feel something,
gorge on US TV
till our eyes go red white and blue.
Look what we’ve become.
Just your gentle breathing.
This is what alive feels like.
Now give me a drag
of whatever it is you’re having.
May 6, 2015
May 6, 2015 at 4:25 PM UTC
A piece of Africa in Asia.
Thirst, hunger and hysteria.
I am Gaza, 'Mother of all Prisons'.
Expanse of unexplored sea.
Here each child is born unfree.
I am Gaza, 'Mother of all Prisons'
Walls of steel and concrete.
Freedom confined to streets.
I am Gaza, 'Mother of all Prisons'.
They're born and will die here.
Must live in shadows of fear.
I am Gaza, 'Mother of all Prisons'.
Bulldozed houses in ruins.
Within them the playful urchins.
I am Gaza, 'Mother of all Prisons'.
Fire rains from time to time.
Asking for freedom is crime.
I am Gaza, 'Mother of all Prisons'.
Stop screaming, O mother!
Here lay dead your brother.
I am Gaza, 'Mother of all Prisons'.
Like ****** Jailers are strong.
Much above right and wrong.
I am Gaza, 'Mother of all Prisons'.
Hitler's foes walk in his steps.
Each day cruelty oversteps.
I am Gaza, 'Mother of all Prisons'.
Inside calvary and martyrdom.
Outside cowardice is dumb.
I am Gaza, 'Mother of all Prisons'.
On world map I am just a dot.
But still era's big black spot.
I am Gaza, 'Mother of all Prisons'.
I am Gaza, 'Mother of all Prisons'.
Nov 10, 2014
Nov 10, 2014 at 9:58 PM UTC
This gaze is of an intensity you've yet to know
While the ground merely shudders beneath your feet
Mine has uplifted itself, and the destruction is full blown
You can't help but be too easily distracted, I know
The vultures keep your heart and soul at bay
It's not all one person's fault but I can't look away
Or wipe these tears from my face
This blame I feel is completely misplaced
I know
But
Your toys are shining while mine are drowning
Your shoes are new while mine are missing
Your homes are warm while mine are crumbling
And nothing compares to the hunger I am feeling
Our gardens of eden have been bulldozed away
Traditions turned into shame
My people only ever asked for a simple understanding
That in these parts we are naturally a little different
But you want to thrash your way through
And if we do not move
You throw us away with force
So you can travel a little faster
Build a little bigger
Consume more
Tie off any connections to source
And create more invisible lines in the sand
We know now
This is a level of pain you will never understand
Unless you experience it first hand
So expect an uproar
Life is a struggle
So if we have to struggle even more
We will do it in your face
So you cannot ignore this place
You took for granted before the climate change
We know now, your ignorance is unrelenting
And dangerous
So our friends on your side have become anonymous
Know that what we all go through becomes synonymous
With all the frustrations you're experiencing
The balance in life cannot be corrected by material things
You cannot separate yourself from us, we are the same being
Wake up and start truly believing
That it's not just me losing everything
It's you
Because these devoured parts of the forest I once ran through
Would have loved you too
Jun 27, 2013
Jun 27, 2013 at 12:52 PM UTC
WARTHEMATICS
The road to war a reserved grave. The beginning of it, a hell aforementioned. Household goes to firm with the best anticipation of celestial ascension above. Pick three to make two, bury wit, never to mar chew.
Beat from the heart
The very voice to define Riffle’s
**** can’t be so dumb !
Not to be mistaken as a strong explosion on the Sahara
Whining of the Babies send a gravy message
All is read in silence, even in seconds
Paths, so crowdy like no Adam was ever made
Pests, Lizards overthrow the market around,
Roads are best ridden by goats
Scary heartbeats dominate the atmosphere
Ever befitting chorus,
Remains the sweet songs from Guns.
Eye above lost counts of Donts
Does seem scarce like the touch of Saint in Gommorah
If it lasts more than months,
You will miss the look of your Edifices to bulldozed yards
The bests you cherish now lay in pieces,
If not far gone become a story
If you still tell the stories,
Let’s meet on the alter next Sunday
All !
In the Art of War.
Jun 23, 2013
Jun 23, 2013 at 10:29 AM UTC