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"castile" poems
Love is no longer a feeling But merely a word with no expectations or sensuality attached We can no longer find comfort in one another Nor can you find faith in the beloved God you once believed in Get down on your knees and beg for forgiveness The sin you’ve made is not one to be easily forgotten And the blood on your hands will not be washed away No matter the intensity of your castile Your purity and ignorance is not a tourniquet What you’ve done to our Father can not be excused And you will not be given a chance to explain Because the previous attempts you’ve tried your best to suppress Will prevail over the meaningless words you spit onto our souls The dirt is where you belong and the dirt is where you will be I will be shame faced when you sink to the ground But no matter; your pure convection is filth to us now And because you have hung our holy Father You will be hung with this rope under the tree Where which we proclaimed our love For sin is to be treated like so And love is demolished under the eyes of our God
0
Nov 20, 2013
Nov 20, 2013 at 6:46 PM UTC
God Will Spoilate Fervor
​ They're on administrative leave like they asked us permission to leave our bodies... Lifeless Or They should have gotten permission to be dismissed BEFORE they left our bodies... Lifeless Land of the free....How about Land on our Knees Where we should be until we all can stand as tall as a tree.... Not hanging, from a tree The noose has been replaced by a shiny black casing, The broken neck has been replaced by blood freely flowing The tree has been used to make OUR encasing.... The result... [hashtag]this [hashtag]that [hashtag]blacklivesmatter but... [hashtag]itdoesntmatter because apparently we are not all made of equal matter Sterling Silver used to be considered quality , but apparently...that's dead. B stands for bold. Beautiful. Brave. Boisterious, without the B in black there consists just a Lack of color, creativity, attitude... Lying to us daily, telling us our skin color isn't a crime only that it cuts short our time to be Alive. Breathing, Heart beating, Lub Dub Lub Dub Lu....ve you are the two words that you may never hear. Are the two words that they don't get to hear because Crack. Pop pop pop Hands up Don't ..... Blood flowing on the streets, like road **** except I'd hoped by now evolution would have taken us to the top of the animal kingdom, but there's still more outrage over Harambi the silverback than Philando Castile, violently attacked... Pronunciation please: Blac (black) B-L-A-C is still the same pronouncement without the K.....K... K . Still afraid to wake up day after day after day... Not knowing if this could be our last where the blackness on our skin becomes our permanent surroundings Or Not knowing if this could be our last where the blackness on our skin becomes the ghost of Christmas future, the past and present left to rest in peace... We should be praising the Lord when we wake up on the land of living, breathing, heart beating, lub dub lub dub.... HANDS UP ..... But you asked for my license's I was already reaching... Don't shoot.... But I wasn't planning to, my four year old is in clear view.
0
May 31, 2017
May 31, 2017 at 9:14 PM UTC
BLACK
​ They're on administrative leave like they asked us permission to leave our bodies... Lifeless Or They should have gotten permission to be dismissed BEFORE they left our bodies... Lifeless Land of the free....How about Land on our Knees Where we should be until we all can stand as tall as a tree.... Not hanging, from a tree The noose has been replaced by a shiny black casing, The broken neck has been replaced by blood freely flowing The tree has been used to make OUR encasing.... The result... [hashtag]this [hashtag]that [hashtag]blacklivesmatter but... [hashtag]itdoesntmatter because apparently we are not all made of equal matter Sterling Silver used to be considered quality , but apparently...that's dead. B stands for bold. Beautiful. Brave. Boisterious, without the B in black there consists just a Lack of color, creativity, attitude... Lying to us daily, telling us our skin color isn't a crime only that it cuts short our time to be Alive. Breathing, Heart beating, Lub Dub Lub Dub Lu....ve you are the two words that you may never hear. Are the two words that they don't get to hear because Crack. Pop pop pop Hands up Don't ..... Blood flowing on the streets, like road **** except I'd hoped by now evolution would have taken us to the top of the animal kingdom, but there's still more outrage over Harambi the silverback than Philando Castile, violently attacked... Pronunciation please: Blac (black) B-L-A-C is still the same pronouncement without the K.....K... K . Still afraid to wake up day after day after day... Not knowing if this could be our last where the blackness on our skin becomes our permanent surroundings Or Not knowing if this could be our last where the blackness on our skin becomes the ghost of Christmas future, the past and present left to rest in peace... We should be praising the Lord when we wake up on the land of living, breathing, heart beating, lub dub lub dub.... HANDS UP ..... But you asked for my license's I was already reaching... Don't shoot.... But I wasn't planning to, my four year old is in clear view.
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20
Hand write                    ( Hands right                                   Sinistral kid) Me a love poem.                    (A sonnet?                              Whatever) Make me feel like a queen,                    (Like Joanna of Castile?                               I know who she is, you **** Like I am worshipped and adored.                    (Like Imelda Marcos then?                               I have more shoes) Make my heart flutter                    (Arrhythmia                               Whatever) And swell until it bursts.                    (Be careful what you wish for                                ......................) Treat me like a princess                    (Shanti Rajya Lakshmi Devi                                I've Googled her as well) And make all my dreams come true.                    (I dream of a loaded gun.                               So you can **** me?) "No, just myself. All I want is for you to ******* feel something".
0
Jul 25, 2018
Jul 25, 2018 at 8:16 AM UTC
Abdicate Already
A baby learning to walk. an old man fails to. you haven't been touched in a week aside from a man who likes your socks and shoelaces offering you an elbow cause you have a chicken sandwich in your hands. Shorts so small you can see the pockets. Red hair. Walking past fossils cause you're looking at your phone. Why did you go in the "insect zoo" Mike? You ****** hate spiders. your most human interaction is the man who asks if he can use your leftover donut bag to carry his food. The food he got from the soup kitchen across the street. The one you went to to use the bathroom. Borrowing him privilege in bag form. he doesn't like to eat outside. Too many mosquitoes. He babywalks with a cane. The gun that shot Lincoln is tiny and I am interested in it only for it's death potential. A French family crying, don't have the right papers to get into the White house tour. I wish I could tell them the tour wasn't that good. drunk conversation with brother about father. don't talk to. Don't know how. Don't want to. I am swallowed by the heat The silence that passes for conversation. my mother is very conservative. the strain of hiding myself. Closed lips I am a silent eavesdropper. A parent pays 7.50 for a ****** tourist piece of pizza. Placed in front of her child. Exhaustion drips off her face. Oozes out of her posture. Her kid doesn't like the pizza. Mouth a tight line. The child tells a story. The tight line blooms into laughter. My friend (I wonder about kissing her) goes to a Philando Castile memorial. I go to the lincoln memorial. Pictures and profit. It's smaller than I thought while she’s heavy from the impact. Memorial – pictures – walking – repeat – heat – feet – and the wondering of how much memorializing goes on at giant statues. His fedora looks stupid. small kids bumps into me. child-style. I don't see him cause I'm so tall. His mother tells him to watch where he's going. My dad’s not on the trip. Divorce’ll do that to you. My brother calls him a lost soul The trip was good and I would never go again.
0
Feb 23, 2018
Feb 23, 2018 at 11:37 AM UTC
Things I saw on my trip to DC
A baby learning to walk. an old man fails to. you haven't been touched in a week aside from a man who likes your socks and shoelaces offering you an elbow cause you have a chicken sandwich in your hands. Shorts so small you can see the pockets. Red hair. Walking past fossils cause you're looking at your phone. Why did you go in the "insect zoo" Mike? You ****** hate spiders. your most human interaction is the man who asks if he can use your leftover donut bag to carry his food. The food he got from the soup kitchen across the street. The one you went to to use the bathroom. Borrowing him privilege in bag form. he doesn't like to eat outside. Too many mosquitoes. He babywalks with a cane. The gun that shot Lincoln is tiny and I am interested in it only for it's death potential. A French family crying, don't have the right papers to get into the White house tour. I wish I could tell them the tour wasn't that good. drunk conversation with brother about father. don't talk to. Don't know how. Don't want to. I am swallowed by the heat The silence that passes for conversation. my mother is very conservative. the strain of hiding myself. Closed lips I am a silent eavesdropper. A parent pays 7.50 for a ****** tourist piece of pizza. Placed in front of her child. Exhaustion drips off her face. Oozes out of her posture. Her kid doesn't like the pizza. Mouth a tight line. The child tells a story. The tight line blooms into laughter. My friend (I wonder about kissing her) goes to a Philando Castile memorial. I go to the lincoln memorial. Pictures and profit. It's smaller than I thought while she’s heavy from the impact. Memorial – pictures – walking – repeat – heat – feet – and the wondering of how much memorializing goes on at giant statues. His fedora looks stupid. small kids bumps into me. child-style. I don't see him cause I'm so tall. His mother tells him to watch where he's going. My dad’s not on the trip. Divorce’ll do that to you. My brother calls him a lost soul The trip was good and I would never go again.
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19
SANDOVAL Your brigs of bustling pilgrims light at last On this sweet-scented isle called Cozumel. Depopulating half of Cuba’s farms, The skills of our six hundred souls, or so, Erupt now in a pitched activity. We’ve confiscated idols, and our cross Now overlooks the rising ropes and tarps; Our cannons hedge the campground, with our horse, As secret weapons, hidden in the ships. ALVARADO Now what a breezing cakewalk will it be To pacify this docile flock of lambs! Let’s ****** the sweetmeats from their trembling lips, And wean them to the yoke of servitude. Vassals alone make masters out of men. CORTÉS Not yet so fast. For Cuba’s stewardship Forbids such a carnivorous regime. Father Olmedo warns us not to tease, Much less ****** the native nymphs. ALVARADO Cortés, We trust that you, like all stargazing men, Crave glory, fortune, and above all, fame; That royal favor and divine accord Will light on those who quell idolatry, And carve new lands for God and His Castile. CORTÉS But like a gentlemanly pirate, I. For Cuba’s governor deceives himself. His pure concern for human chattel, gold, And bandying the Indies as it were A distant annex of the Moorish war Has wrought a desert from a paradise. Long-term success requires a colony. And with what wherewithal! These islanders Stand head and shoulders o’er Carribbeans, With their rich-painted books and towering keeps, The graceful girding of their modesties- SANDOVAL Their slave trades, and their binding bright bouquets- ALVARADO Distilling liquor: Culture’s surest sign. CORTÉS Our prime directive is to baptize them, Not march before their eyes the Seven Sins. But how to learn their Tower-of-Babel tongues?
0
Oct 16, 2016
Oct 16, 2016 at 12:36 PM UTC
The Floral War 2:1:1-39
SANDOVAL Your brigs of bustling pilgrims light at last On this sweet-scented isle called Cozumel. Depopulating half of Cuba’s farms, The skills of our six hundred souls, or so, Erupt now in a pitched activity. We’ve confiscated idols, and our cross Now overlooks the rising ropes and tarps; Our cannons hedge the campground, with our horse, As secret weapons, hidden in the ships. ALVARADO Now what a breezing cakewalk will it be To pacify this docile flock of lambs! Let’s ****** the sweetmeats from their trembling lips, And wean them to the yoke of servitude. Vassals alone make masters out of men. CORTÉS Not yet so fast. For Cuba’s stewardship Forbids such a carnivorous regime. Father Olmedo warns us not to tease, Much less ****** the native nymphs. ALVARADO Cortés, We trust that you, like all stargazing men, Crave glory, fortune, and above all, fame; That royal favor and divine accord Will light on those who quell idolatry, And carve new lands for God and His Castile. CORTÉS But like a gentlemanly pirate, I. For Cuba’s governor deceives himself. His pure concern for human chattel, gold, And bandying the Indies as it were A distant annex of the Moorish war Has wrought a desert from a paradise. Long-term success requires a colony. And with what wherewithal! These islanders Stand head and shoulders o’er Carribbeans, With their rich-painted books and towering keeps, The graceful girding of their modesties- SANDOVAL Their slave trades, and their binding bright bouquets- ALVARADO Distilling liquor: Culture’s surest sign. CORTÉS Our prime directive is to baptize them, Not march before their eyes the Seven Sins. But how to learn their Tower-of-Babel tongues?
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47
CORTÉS             Trailblazing pioneers, God’s harbingers:             The shining daylight of the Renaissance             Now swiftly dissipates the blindfold gloom             Of this benighted, dark, and iron age.             And as this dawn of culture greets the globe,             Our own Castile, of all the hosts of Europe,             Emerges as its greatest modern power.             If we receive the bounty of these lands,             So must we bear our duty to convert,             And shall redeem these hell-bound debutantes.             Coincidence?- That as the graceless Moors             Were drubbed and shunted from our Christian sands,             And in the very year our spiring cross             Eclipsed that toenail paring of a moon-             That new horizons opened in the west?             Do you not feel, my fresh adventurers,             That you are precious to the Lord, and chosen?             Strike sail!                                                          Exit.                ALVARADO                  You heard the captain. Up and at ‘em.             You porters, lash the tents to tame these winds.             The horsemen will untwine the provender.             Exit Garrido. SANDOVAL             The women must find tinder, turf, and fuel.             The sun is down. We race against the dusk.           Exit María. ESCUDERO             These heavy, gathering clouds have opened up,             And threaten to bestow unwanted gifts. DÍAZ             It is the cyclone season out at sea. SANDOVAL             Such scuddy weather bodes a sudden turn. ALVARADO             Let’s hustle then to fumble up a camp,             And save our “oo-” and “ahh”ing for the dawn.                                                                                       Exit all but Olmedo. OLMEDO             Thus shall the ardent lights of Europe come,             And pour upon these newfound neophytes.             But will they be enlightening Catholic lamps,             Or a consuming fire to destroy them?                     Exit.
0
Oct 9, 2016
Oct 9, 2016 at 11:58 AM UTC
The Floral War 1:3:32-63
CORTÉS             Trailblazing pioneers, God’s harbingers:             The shining daylight of the Renaissance             Now swiftly dissipates the blindfold gloom             Of this benighted, dark, and iron age.             And as this dawn of culture greets the globe,             Our own Castile, of all the hosts of Europe,             Emerges as its greatest modern power.             If we receive the bounty of these lands,             So must we bear our duty to convert,             And shall redeem these hell-bound debutantes.             Coincidence?- That as the graceless Moors             Were drubbed and shunted from our Christian sands,             And in the very year our spiring cross             Eclipsed that toenail paring of a moon-             That new horizons opened in the west?             Do you not feel, my fresh adventurers,             That you are precious to the Lord, and chosen?             Strike sail!                                                          Exit.                ALVARADO                  You heard the captain. Up and at ‘em.             You porters, lash the tents to tame these winds.             The horsemen will untwine the provender.             Exit Garrido. SANDOVAL             The women must find tinder, turf, and fuel.             The sun is down. We race against the dusk.           Exit María. ESCUDERO             These heavy, gathering clouds have opened up,             And threaten to bestow unwanted gifts. DÍAZ             It is the cyclone season out at sea. SANDOVAL             Such scuddy weather bodes a sudden turn. ALVARADO             Let’s hustle then to fumble up a camp,             And save our “oo-” and “ahh”ing for the dawn.                                                                                       Exit all but Olmedo. OLMEDO             Thus shall the ardent lights of Europe come,             And pour upon these newfound neophytes.             But will they be enlightening Catholic lamps,             Or a consuming fire to destroy them?                     Exit.
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41
DÍAZ Captain Cortés, at last our man is found. From two days inland, natives ferried him. Father Olmedo greets him as we speak- A fellow priest it seems. CORTÉS Bring him to me. Exit Díaz. From Cozumel to here in Yucatán, We’ve hunted this elusive castaway. These Indians hustle us from shore to shore, And, when their gifts of jade fail, toss us rocks. ALVARADO Their dizzying synthesis of amity Backed up with menace proves unsettling. Enter OLMEDO, SANDOVAL, and AGUILAR. SANDOVAL Now, wayward beadsman, meet our strategist. CORTÉS Who is this Indian? Where’s our long-lost priest? AGUILAR Hail, Christian knights! Sweet accents of Castile! CORTÉS Great welcome, cabined friar, you are free! AGUILAR Is it a Wednesday? OLMEDO It’s the Lord’s day, friend. AGUILAR Of course it is! Grace to the only God! My only link with Europe, all these years, Has been to count the crawling calendar. CORTÉS We’ll need your past, to learn their policies. AGUILAR I wish I could. But of their etiquette I’m ignorant, save slavish drudgery. CORTÉS You speak the language, though? AGUILAR Why, like a native. CORTÉS Your name? AGUILAR Gerónimo de Aguilar. OLMEDO Dear Aguilar! Your mother, home in Spain, On hearing you’d been snatched by cannibals, Abstained from meat, and cringed at frying flesh, For fear, by chance, it might be part of you. AGUILAR Oh, rush me home to Écija, back where The only blood drunk is the wine of Christ, The only flesh consumed, our sacrament. CORTÉS What fate befell your fellow countrymen? AGUILAR The luckless women were harassed to death, The men, dishearted. But a happy few Broke from our cages and were spared for slaves, Within the warlike clutch of Na Chan Can. My freedom have your wax and honey bought. One stubborn soul, Guerrero, stays behind.
0
Nov 2, 2016
Nov 2, 2016 at 5:17 PM UTC
The Floral War 2:4:1-37
DÍAZ Captain Cortés, at last our man is found. From two days inland, natives ferried him. Father Olmedo greets him as we speak- A fellow priest it seems. CORTÉS Bring him to me. Exit Díaz. From Cozumel to here in Yucatán, We’ve hunted this elusive castaway. These Indians hustle us from shore to shore, And, when their gifts of jade fail, toss us rocks. ALVARADO Their dizzying synthesis of amity Backed up with menace proves unsettling. Enter OLMEDO, SANDOVAL, and AGUILAR. SANDOVAL Now, wayward beadsman, meet our strategist. CORTÉS Who is this Indian? Where’s our long-lost priest? AGUILAR Hail, Christian knights! Sweet accents of Castile! CORTÉS Great welcome, cabined friar, you are free! AGUILAR Is it a Wednesday? OLMEDO It’s the Lord’s day, friend. AGUILAR Of course it is! Grace to the only God! My only link with Europe, all these years, Has been to count the crawling calendar. CORTÉS We’ll need your past, to learn their policies. AGUILAR I wish I could. But of their etiquette I’m ignorant, save slavish drudgery. CORTÉS You speak the language, though? AGUILAR Why, like a native. CORTÉS Your name? AGUILAR Gerónimo de Aguilar. OLMEDO Dear Aguilar! Your mother, home in Spain, On hearing you’d been snatched by cannibals, Abstained from meat, and cringed at frying flesh, For fear, by chance, it might be part of you. AGUILAR Oh, rush me home to Écija, back where The only blood drunk is the wine of Christ, The only flesh consumed, our sacrament. CORTÉS What fate befell your fellow countrymen? AGUILAR The luckless women were harassed to death, The men, dishearted. But a happy few Broke from our cages and were spared for slaves, Within the warlike clutch of Na Chan Can. My freedom have your wax and honey bought. One stubborn soul, Guerrero, stays behind.
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59
US, US, confidentiality,     in the end all kinds of Baltimore and a successful new map of the city of Romania's City Council.                                                    Ignite the Union, Veronika                                                        Madam Imbert 3 Samuel Lionel, Elm Elsa, Elsa BJ Lab Saint John                                                    and Loose in two years of the first size; Kennedy, one of the most intense Spanish in the world. Adams Adams Adams, Burt, Tantrum Lithium,  SMS application, Saskatrot 1B and geometry Smug Bimmel dot-two "Spirit" AP, Ffelos (1587) USA Julius Caesar, Analyst Hippocampus, "Squeaky Review" suitcase "Latin peace equivalent), which is the first a path published in the United States, or Salidiyama Varga, Pericles, New York, USA (1729); The Niukts Nation rules the collection. Ninjas YES YES YES Place James 1732 iAnatomiseks "Castile in" 500 "Bejdzdzgaga Etam" Paris 500irurijij garen'g is harder to understand - El Campo (Rino Eciptes) Varese agreed [7]] Battery protection Dogsklin Hifogotmos 1672, 1672 column in the American column; Aivins Elvis badges allow Piasre to add oil, now Keteepi hippocampus and e-mail, grazing hand console and United Attacks: R Virkr, British blaze Vasco hybrid and Garuda ataxia. Oak Hippocampus, Iehipopotams Heads, Hippocampus, 1, Stellar States and Ireland 1ar61 6, Henri Tomas,                                  R Carlos Charles and the United States have been translated by the United States, they step gold government and the Heart hippocampus         Air Air 1 9 5 Nepiljadij Anatomisks Ijhmnthonass [10] URobez or UGaroz to Brazil (United Kingdom) using at least 11 minutes of disorders. In 1952 Apgtvots, Hippocampus Jong made a cable-cerebral, Stai Igrojh. Similarly, you can find the hotel in the hotel safe. Hypothalamus MG priest Libyans Hippocampus, Ujhadoib Smdjhena use the coder as part of Orgnis easy to write, the body sees the creation of a site where you can keep bass.
0
Jan 20, 2019
Jan 20, 2019 at 3:20 PM UTC
To be properly ****** in the head, the young lady must feel the **** of his **** on the tip of her Hippocampus
US, US, confidentiality,     in the end all kinds of Baltimore and a successful new map of the city of Romania's City Council.                                                    Ignite the Union, Veronika                                                        Madam Imbert 3 Samuel Lionel, Elm Elsa, Elsa BJ Lab Saint John                                                    and Loose in two years of the first size; Kennedy, one of the most intense Spanish in the world. Adams Adams Adams, Burt, Tantrum Lithium,  SMS application, Saskatrot 1B and geometry Smug Bimmel dot-two "Spirit" AP, Ffelos (1587) USA Julius Caesar, Analyst Hippocampus, "Squeaky Review" suitcase "Latin peace equivalent), which is the first a path published in the United States, or Salidiyama Varga, Pericles, New York, USA (1729); The Niukts Nation rules the collection. Ninjas YES YES YES Place James 1732 iAnatomiseks "Castile in" 500 "Bejdzdzgaga Etam" Paris 500irurijij garen'g is harder to understand - El Campo (Rino Eciptes) Varese agreed [7]] Battery protection Dogsklin Hifogotmos 1672, 1672 column in the American column; Aivins Elvis badges allow Piasre to add oil, now Keteepi hippocampus and e-mail, grazing hand console and United Attacks: R Virkr, British blaze Vasco hybrid and Garuda ataxia. Oak Hippocampus, Iehipopotams Heads, Hippocampus, 1, Stellar States and Ireland 1ar61 6, Henri Tomas,                                  R Carlos Charles and the United States have been translated by the United States, they step gold government and the Heart hippocampus         Air Air 1 9 5 Nepiljadij Anatomisks Ijhmnthonass [10] URobez or UGaroz to Brazil (United Kingdom) using at least 11 minutes of disorders. In 1952 Apgtvots, Hippocampus Jong made a cable-cerebral, Stai Igrojh. Similarly, you can find the hotel in the hotel safe. Hypothalamus MG priest Libyans Hippocampus, Ujhadoib Smdjhena use the coder as part of Orgnis easy to write, the body sees the creation of a site where you can keep bass.
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44
*of you I see the soldiers. all alike all abreast keeping time streets; they hear it, the old gates shake, and the leisurely patter of frame houses, they have leapt the green tide towards the gardens them detaching sweat smells from underclothes making muscles itch a tremulous pale fleet over gleaming ripples to the o you strong bells of castile, can it be that you a dormir. beetred faces of men. the shadows make strange streaks and brass beat. run run to see the flushed sunlight, the blowing with bearded lips on a brave high bed; the golden light of panting unsatiated breath that heaves under the golden crown has slipped*
0
Oct 30, 2017
Oct 30, 2017 at 12:47 PM UTC
#strings
i couldn’t tell you the number of times they’ve told me my family of seven numbers only five. i couldn’t tell you the number of times they’ve told me, “they’re NOT YOUR BROTHERS. lydia is your sister, but they’re BLACK. they can’t be part of your family,” though all three are adopted. i couldn’t tell you the number of times they’ve looked at my family as if it is BROKEN, believing there’s NO WAY those two little boys with DARK skin belong in that family with WHITE skin, brown hair, and blue eyes, the perfect depiction of a german family. this is my REALITY. it TERRIFIES me, watching them look watching them see    nothing                but                       the                            skin                                  that                                        is                                           darker                                                     than                                                            their                                                                    own. no one ever questions that my little sister with her FAIR skin is my sister, but when they see my brothers, they don’t understand how we’re related. in what world do we live that this PREJUDICE is allowed? in what world do we live that JUDGING people simply by their color is acceptable? they say that it isn’t, that they don’t do it, that they know black people—are even friends with a few— so there’s no way that they’re RACIST. and     yet,           it       happens                              every                                          day. we see it on the news all too frequently but brush it off as insignificant, somebody else’s problem. PHILANDO CASTILE. TARIKA WILSON. LAQUAN MCDONALD. REKIA BOYD. OSCAR GRANT. AIYANA JONES.    ORLANDO BARLOW. SEAN BELL. MICHAEL BROWN. YVETTE SMITH. BOTHAM JEAN. ERIC GARNER. TAMIR RICE. GEORGE FLOYD. maybe you recognize these names. these names are only a fraction of UNARMED african americans— men, women, even children— KILLED because police FEARED the COLOR of their skin. how can we allow this to happen? they excuse racism, claiming it ceased long ago, saying that because there are laws against segregation, that because those laws were enacted, people automatically follow them.   then       WHY                  do                      you                             know                                       these                                                names? i hope to one day live in a world where I don’t have to fear for my brothers’ lives as they grow older. a world where I know they won’t have to fight RACISM and PREJUDICES while following their dreams. i hope to one day live in a world where we see more than just the color of someone’s skin. a world where we can learn to ACCEPT and LOVE, appreciating diversity. i hope to one day live in a world where my family is seen as just that, a FAMILY. a WHOLE, LOVING FAMILY regardless of the color of my brothers’ skin.
0
Feb 25, 2021
Feb 25, 2021 at 11:15 AM UTC
Black and White
i couldn’t tell you the number of times they’ve told me my family of seven numbers only five. i couldn’t tell you the number of times they’ve told me, “they’re NOT YOUR BROTHERS. lydia is your sister, but they’re BLACK. they can’t be part of your family,” though all three are adopted. i couldn’t tell you the number of times they’ve looked at my family as if it is BROKEN, believing there’s NO WAY those two little boys with DARK skin belong in that family with WHITE skin, brown hair, and blue eyes, the perfect depiction of a german family. this is my REALITY. it TERRIFIES me, watching them look watching them see    nothing                but                       the                            skin                                  that                                        is                                           darker                                                     than                                                            their                                                                    own. no one ever questions that my little sister with her FAIR skin is my sister, but when they see my brothers, they don’t understand how we’re related. in what world do we live that this PREJUDICE is allowed? in what world do we live that JUDGING people simply by their color is acceptable? they say that it isn’t, that they don’t do it, that they know black people—are even friends with a few— so there’s no way that they’re RACIST. and     yet,           it       happens                              every                                          day. we see it on the news all too frequently but brush it off as insignificant, somebody else’s problem. PHILANDO CASTILE. TARIKA WILSON. LAQUAN MCDONALD. REKIA BOYD. OSCAR GRANT. AIYANA JONES.    ORLANDO BARLOW. SEAN BELL. MICHAEL BROWN. YVETTE SMITH. BOTHAM JEAN. ERIC GARNER. TAMIR RICE. GEORGE FLOYD. maybe you recognize these names. these names are only a fraction of UNARMED african americans— men, women, even children— KILLED because police FEARED the COLOR of their skin. how can we allow this to happen? they excuse racism, claiming it ceased long ago, saying that because there are laws against segregation, that because those laws were enacted, people automatically follow them.   then       WHY                  do                      you                             know                                       these                                                names? i hope to one day live in a world where I don’t have to fear for my brothers’ lives as they grow older. a world where I know they won’t have to fight RACISM and PREJUDICES while following their dreams. i hope to one day live in a world where we see more than just the color of someone’s skin. a world where we can learn to ACCEPT and LOVE, appreciating diversity. i hope to one day live in a world where my family is seen as just that, a FAMILY. a WHOLE, LOVING FAMILY regardless of the color of my brothers’ skin.
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AGUILAR                                                                  But a happy few             Broke from our cages and were spared for slaves,             Within the warlike clutch of Na Chan Can.             My freedom have your wax and honey bought.             One stubborn soul, Guerrero, stays behind.           CORTÉS             And with slave’s ransoms, we must rescue him. AGUILAR             He will not come. ALVARADO                          You must mean “could not,” man.             What exile, broiling in the pits of hell             Is tossed a rope from heaven and will not come?             Your Spanish rusted in these humid airs. AGUILAR             These Mayas have seduced him to their cause.             When I confronted him, he spoke to me:             “I am a wartime chieftain, and their judge,             And see how lovely are my wife and sons!”             Three handsome half-castes nestled at his hip.             “You go,” he said, “and may God go with you.             But black tattoos have spiraled round my eyes,             And broad, thick discs now pierce my ears and lips.             Would Christians welcome one so scarified?” CORTÉS             God only scorns the scars of souls. OLMEDO                                                      Well said. AGUILAR             His crabbed wife waved in my face and spat:             “What grimy scarecrow dares provoke my lord?             Shove off!” But our Guerrero caught my arm.             “I’ve warned our Mayas of Castile,” he hissed.             “If Spanish visitations will be suffered,             The scabies of their ‘culture’ will erupt,             And Europe’s slow, inexorable flow             Must soon encrust and case these florid lands             As running wax will coat a candlestick.             Then must I trim Death’s wicks.” CORTÉS                                                 What can that mean?
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Nov 3, 2016
Nov 3, 2016 at 3:21 PM UTC
The Floral War 2:4:33-62
AGUILAR                                                                  But a happy few             Broke from our cages and were spared for slaves,             Within the warlike clutch of Na Chan Can.             My freedom have your wax and honey bought.             One stubborn soul, Guerrero, stays behind.           CORTÉS             And with slave’s ransoms, we must rescue him. AGUILAR             He will not come. ALVARADO                          You must mean “could not,” man.             What exile, broiling in the pits of hell             Is tossed a rope from heaven and will not come?             Your Spanish rusted in these humid airs. AGUILAR             These Mayas have seduced him to their cause.             When I confronted him, he spoke to me:             “I am a wartime chieftain, and their judge,             And see how lovely are my wife and sons!”             Three handsome half-castes nestled at his hip.             “You go,” he said, “and may God go with you.             But black tattoos have spiraled round my eyes,             And broad, thick discs now pierce my ears and lips.             Would Christians welcome one so scarified?” CORTÉS             God only scorns the scars of souls. OLMEDO                                                      Well said. AGUILAR             His crabbed wife waved in my face and spat:             “What grimy scarecrow dares provoke my lord?             Shove off!” But our Guerrero caught my arm.             “I’ve warned our Mayas of Castile,” he hissed.             “If Spanish visitations will be suffered,             The scabies of their ‘culture’ will erupt,             And Europe’s slow, inexorable flow             Must soon encrust and case these florid lands             As running wax will coat a candlestick.             Then must I trim Death’s wicks.” CORTÉS                                                 What can that mean?
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let your actions speak louder than your words words get curved then the message is blurred talking is absurd say one wrong slur and you’ll strike a nerve my silence is not silent see my actions are vibrant colors may wash away but the frame remains the same what does that say. The picture can change if your foundation is sain Rebuild in the creative field even if your image is plain Be solid count your blessings turn your mistakes into lessons and see what you gain Love yourself and everyone else who may have caused u pain We all have faults in our stars, life is the Big Dipper Negativity is the cancer spreading killing the big picture We are gods living artwork , the original perfect mixture Our antics are mere cushions for our mistakes and we live in its fixture but Change is but a word make it happen then it’s a verb Purchase an item, you’ll get change in return so why haven’t you bought the effort to get the change your efforts will earn? but it’s crazy to me bc human effort is free were to lazy to many villains out here chilling no promises been getting fulfillment but the problem is me? I just dream you see what I mean and happy we can all be Change is almost like a speech We’ve been hearing it forever the ideas sound pretty clever But what goals have been reached what lessons haven’t been bleached Do you even practice what u trying to preach? Heyyyyy watch out for toes I’m not tryna step on feet’s But I can’t change you I can only change me So scream as loud as you desire your voice will soon expire and sink to the floor as they have done before Change requires action and actions have lived on forever more. philandeo Castile shot through the window of his car door Michael brown 12 couldn’t see him frown back turned and they shot more What other names do a ***** gotta say For you to see change needs to start today Lesandro Guzman Felix cut open and still never seen on his knees that’s junior sooner somebody should have responded to his please I hope that’s never you you you or me Change has no price I hope we get it while it’s still free..
0
Aug 14, 2018
Aug 14, 2018 at 10:13 AM UTC
Change
let your actions speak louder than your words words get curved then the message is blurred talking is absurd say one wrong slur and you’ll strike a nerve my silence is not silent see my actions are vibrant colors may wash away but the frame remains the same what does that say. The picture can change if your foundation is sain Rebuild in the creative field even if your image is plain Be solid count your blessings turn your mistakes into lessons and see what you gain Love yourself and everyone else who may have caused u pain We all have faults in our stars, life is the Big Dipper Negativity is the cancer spreading killing the big picture We are gods living artwork , the original perfect mixture Our antics are mere cushions for our mistakes and we live in its fixture but Change is but a word make it happen then it’s a verb Purchase an item, you’ll get change in return so why haven’t you bought the effort to get the change your efforts will earn? but it’s crazy to me bc human effort is free were to lazy to many villains out here chilling no promises been getting fulfillment but the problem is me? I just dream you see what I mean and happy we can all be Change is almost like a speech We’ve been hearing it forever the ideas sound pretty clever But what goals have been reached what lessons haven’t been bleached Do you even practice what u trying to preach? Heyyyyy watch out for toes I’m not tryna step on feet’s But I can’t change you I can only change me So scream as loud as you desire your voice will soon expire and sink to the floor as they have done before Change requires action and actions have lived on forever more. philandeo Castile shot through the window of his car door Michael brown 12 couldn’t see him frown back turned and they shot more What other names do a ***** gotta say For you to see change needs to start today Lesandro Guzman Felix cut open and still never seen on his knees that’s junior sooner somebody should have responded to his please I hope that’s never you you you or me Change has no price I hope we get it while it’s still free..
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You pile salt to envelop bulls’ flesh but not before bees find lost hive. Fluctuating Hesperides tangle begats, unknot pearly everlasting’s. Starlings, ravens, fill presiding oaks with chutter. Tall-eyed dandelion, almond-poached porphyry eyelash, comfort hermitage, every tool a die, every fool a sty. Might quick shadowy poesie reproach Castile, conquer pedestrian, rebut baroque, indent emerald. Do not explain anything. Lady Murasaki’s long line reaches beyond September.
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Jan 21, 2018
Jan 21, 2018 at 1:57 PM UTC
Do not explain.