"celebrated" poems
They didn't know what Diversity was...
The kids, that is.
Since the kids didn't know it,
the teacher coined it as "“black” visibility".
She wasn't sure if she could make that call
so she nodded her head, looking for approval.
The interviewer asked in what direction did the teacher see Diversity
As if Diversity was a one-way street.
Let me just refresh your memory...
"“black” visibility"
As if decades of progress in the schools were undone,
The kids voted on Performances and Projects for “black” History Month.
How shocking!... Kids of every shape, size, ability and race studying a time in history...
Sounds racist to me.
They wanted a Gospel Choir that is clearly only for “black” students
Because I'm the student Director for the Fordham University's Rhythm of Praise Gospel Chior for the fourth year running...
Maybe I'm missing something...
MAYBE I'm “black”... Maybe if I close my eyes really tight...
Nope, I'm still “white”.
Olive brown perhaps?
Only in the summer.
Anyway, I digress like Sophia Patrilo from the Goldren Girls
Who was Italian by the way.
Just advertising for Diversity.
Let's debate about "Music Debates" for a moment.
Maybe you call it Debates because Hip Hop is debatable, and by the way only for “black” students.
When I could argue for days upon days
About how Reggaeton didn't come from Salsa
but I know **** well that Salsa came first.
The kids wanted to Stomp the Yard and battle it out.
I do believe rap battles take place around the world
And one of the best rappers I know is an English teacher in Harlem
Whose hair is redder than a leprechaun.
Talent Shows that showcase every student's ability
Whether it be singing, dancing, performing their poetry,
But still apparently that's not Diversity.
Neither is an International Day
Where International ways are celebrated.
And finally, a Diversity Day,
That clearly means diversity is separated.
"They wanted a lot of things"
Yeah. They asked for a whole lot... of everything BUT diversity.
That's right, because they don't know what it means
The Kids, that is...
Then tell me please:
Define Diversity.
Is it seeing a “black” horse with “white” stripes
Or a “white” horse with “black” stripes?
Why is it between “black” and “white”?
Why not between “white”, “black” brown, yellow, orange, brick red...
Let's get it out of our head
That teachers can't learn anything from their students,
Because it sounds to me,
Like they had a pretty good start to the meaning of Diversity.
And if it turns out they didn't,
That's what teachers are there for:
Make a **** lesson about it.
Sep 26, 2011
Sep 26, 2011 at 2:16 PM UTC
At the corner, a girl child from the UK
another soft drink she chugged
Whilst the girl woman in the Sudan,
the heavy *** on head she lugged
She walked eight miles, braving ****
to fetch unclean water from the well
Whilst in the UK, the girl bought designer clothes
to make her feel just swell
God where are the waters of life?
To end their strife
At the mall, the boy child ate his third Hershey bar
In Malawi the boy man’s
stomach had extended too far
Malnutrition had sealed his fate
God where is the cereal?
To make their lives non-ephemeral
Down under, the son celebrated with family,
presents and cake
his father’s 100th milestone
Whilst in war torn Syria, a son, now orphan
buried his young murdered father,
in ground without a gravestone
God when will the fighting cease?
To give them a chance of peace
Is this God’s confusion?
That though we are all made the same,
some people their innocence shattered
are headed for a terrifying fate
whilst others fully satiated and secure,
sip their drinks, polish off and request another plate
Or does God if he exists
not love the weak and oppressed?
Sep 11, 2014
Sep 11, 2014 at 6:25 PM UTC
Hello Friends & Happy Holi to all my hello poetry friends ,Writers & Family..
May this holi brings you and your family a very bright, colourful joyful holi, With love of Peace, happiness , prosperity & success in Every ones life..
Today writing this letter by expressing my Feeling for one my favourite Indian festival, I know it is strange but this is what my excitement is all about.. what you like the most express it by Writing or enjoy it!!
Holi is a religious festival of the Hindus. Though, it is most popular in India, it is celebrated in every corner of the world as a Festival of colours.
Today describing you the importance of the different colors(Gulal) of holi festival which significance your face life with a different colorful world!!.
the face behind your colour are followed below:
Auspicious Red Colour bright the love of happiness
Divine Green colour binds you in the life of prosperity
Forever Blue color bleed your soul in a Blissful world
Pretty orange color mild your Elysian mind as a silence peace
Beautiful Pink color scents intriguing personality of life
Sunflame yellow color kisses your beautiful moment of time!!.
Well colour is a beautiful life were you experience the beauty of joy, beauty of passion, beauty of love , beauty of everything that you will experience in this festival !!.come once and get yours new experience of life ....Thank-you..
Mar 24, 2016
Mar 24, 2016 at 8:34 AM UTC
Time: 7:30 pm
Temp.: 68F
~~~
overlooking the runways,
festooned by
accidental heavenly whimsy,
or humanistic whimsical inten-sity,
all the the planes and trucks are flashing
electrifying speckles, of eclectically synced
red and green
it is not my holiday,
but no matter,
like every New Yorker this day,
I am happily celebrating its
double U,
unique, unusual
"record breaking warmth"
yes, the Fahrenheit is outtasight, and by the dawn of
early eve~night,
the Centigrade is spiraling in reverse retrograde,
as the temp eases on down, just below seventy degrees,
on this dewinterized twenty fourth day of
December, two nought and fifteen
traffic is light, the terminal, an unbusy, slim shadow of itself,
the maddening crowds gone, now all are among
the dearly departed and either/or, the newly arrived
so composition of the observational, brings cheer and smiles to my faith,
(I mean my face),
the crowning quietude of clear skies, the absence of street smart
city bustle and hustle,
the languid atmosphere at the gates,
(where seldom is heard an encouraging word)#
makes me reconsider the true meaning of
the au courant phraseology of this day
"record breaking warmth"
for there is indeed
a calm invisible warmth suffusing all tonite,
chests glowing from fireplaces within,
contentment chamber containers in both hearth and heart,
and I am thinking
miracle,
about all the human warmth
on this celebrated evening,
holy night
indeed,
it is breaking records of
recorded human fusion,
the united commonality of millions warming
his and her stories world-over,
that your personal poet is
warming to record
Dec 24, 2015
Dec 24, 2015 at 8:21 PM UTC
My India lovely India
Full of love and festivals
Bond us altogether
As like flowers have petals
With new hope our celebration
Starts with new year
With endless list of festivals
V celebrate throughout the year
Holi Diwali Durga pooja
Dusahera Christmas idul juha
Birthdays of great Indians
Are also celebrated
They every time make us
All awaited
Jul 8, 2015
Jul 8, 2015 at 10:34 PM UTC
Hello friends & wishing you all a very
An auspicious & prosperous DIWALI.
"You aim always for a new glow for a whole year;
Hard work glows your day for the time
Likewise Light is a glowing nature
It is a hope, faith and light shine in your life,
A Candle glows for an hour;
Matchstick glows for a few seconds;
But a wish glows forever.
Here is my wish for a glowing Diwali and glowing year till next time....
..............HAPPY DIWALI...............
On this auspicious festival of Diwali
I wish & pray that, may everyone Life filled with a Sparking color of happiness & Light of Prosperity. May this world & people of this country live with a calmness & Fortune for love.
Diwali is one of my favorite festival & it is also the festival of light where houses are decorated with candles & many more things, making it a perfect festival, it is also one of the most beautiful festivals celebrated around the world through Indian culture, it seen a metaphor instincts for self-improvement and as well representing for a new beginnings. It involves a strong belief in giving to people in need, and performing every ritual by traditionally, a time for new clothes to be worn & Indian sweets is seen as a varieties of colours and flavours are eaten during the celebrations.
So wish you a happy diwali & May this writing platform of hellopoetry continues as the same mark of living, an originality of making a talent into a magic light.
Again, like every festival I use to mention to invite from my heart to all this cheerful people so I am inviting everyone to be a part of Indian festivals and culture... everyone is most welcome to India..
India is Country to experience different Tradition, with a beauty of joy, beauty of passion, beauty of love , beauty of art & beauty of everything that you have never experienced before...
reality is the real life.. ....
Thank-you..
-Chirayu!.
Oct 29, 2016
Oct 29, 2016 at 9:45 PM UTC
Oh Generational gap, a cancer of to all mankind. The father of lack of communication between the young and the old. A difference brought about the tastes and values.
The pain faced between young and aged but can’t be touched. It started by 1960’s the decades of revolutionary change. It cut across the world in values of *** religion and civil rights. The disease the emerged earned its self a name by social scientists. It then became “Generational Gap”
I would love to quote a man of great thoughts, Alexis De Tocqueville, who commented that;
“Among democratic nations, each generation is a new people” I have come to appreciate these words.
When I walk down the streets noticing the rising incompatibility existing in our society
Though I admire the old days when the old and young associated freely, working on the same farms
Grandparents telling stories to their little ones; what a lovely society they had.
With the invention of television and computers some families were bonded in communication
While others live in agony especially the illiterate.
The old desire different designs from the youth, whose trends change per living day of nakedness
Young people prefer working in executive places like offices compared to the donkey farm work considered to be for the old
Another cause of generational gap is decay in morals; the young people feel like they know everything and don’t like to be corrected thus taking information from old people as outdated, young people finding lots of hardships to great their elders
In the field of music elders prefer oldies and more preferably educative songs, and as for the youths they delight in Hip-hop and dancehall, am sure those present here can testify to this a term with no disco dances makes us dull students.
When it comes to religious issues, youth find it a burden to go to church and if they offer to go they prefer it to be in a club way. Praise and worship accompanied by jazz unlike the old days where drums are the centre of music.
Cultures in this way have greatly faded away; the trend of western culture has flamed up the world.
Drugs and *** are a hobby and celebrated amongst the youth, yet *** to the old was for companionship and co-creation.
But when we came to medical technology we all applause in general, young or old there is easy treatment, use of scanners, and medical facilities cuts across.
Mar 25, 2015
Mar 25, 2015 at 7:58 AM UTC
I am you, you are me
There is no difference inside to see
The color of your skin, hair or eyes
Does not represent what’s inside.
Physical traits come from the family tree
They give roots, history and a sense of identity
But inside we have the same blood, the same heart
So when does prejudice begin to take part?
Babies are born without preconception
They feel love and comfort from their caregiver’s affection
Their new eyes are blind to ignorance
They see through a clear lense and don’t see difference
As they develop, society gives them glasses,
Their vision gets clouded by the opinions of the masses
The lenses get darker as they grow
They filter the world to see only colors they know
Differences become obstacles, not celebrated.
Leaders tell them who to respect and who should be hated.
These biased views could remain for a lifetime
And then they’re passed down to the next one in line.
Opinions are essential, shared thoughts educate.
But when they’re bigoted and hateful we cannot tolerate.
Take those blinders off, take a look around.
There’s so much joy in diversity to be found
Don’t let the blindfold give such a narrow view
Don’t be complacent and take what is given to you
Rip off the filter, open your eyes
Find connection, common experience, destroy the lies
Revel in these connections, learn from one another
We’re all trying to get through from one day to the other
See through the skin, the hair, the accent
To the core of the HUMAN BEING with love and respect.
Jan 11, 2021
Jan 11, 2021 at 11:43 AM UTC
Dr. F. Wilhem discovered it by accident you see?
The first man downloaded was no longer man.
He suffered dearly until the plug was pulled,
and we started over again; with biologists.
Geneticists, Embryonticians, TransEugenecists,
all celebrated the new fast-growing body.
No more deaths at old age expiry, on battlefields.
for a price all would live eternally; eternity here.
It did not work. The bodies worked, the software recorded
but the people were insanely bi-polar. Insane in fact.
Until we switched the torso and genetics in tandem.
then somehow the surviving person retained all memories!
They were in fact; themselves! Just in a different gendered body?
Unfortunately for everyone this was a major psychological shock.
Unexplainable, sure, evolution took four billion years so...
...more time, more time, more experimentation is all we need.
Wilhelm changed it all.
When he added the shock,
added the <human> response,
turning the machines into
Humans.
They are truly A.I.
...verily human in fact.
Animal-ish, peaceful
then angry, terrible or
violent.
Artificially Intelligent;
Humans.
*"What good is it to change a person,
...merely into someone else?"* -Al Abd Azaz
*To see beneath the surface,
and know the ocean tydes.
To see beneath the surface,
and know the ocean tydes.
To see beneath the surface,
and know the ocean tydes.* *
Jan 21, 2018
Jan 21, 2018 at 12:14 AM UTC
There's a flower
that grows
in the darkness.
It actually flourishes
in the shade.
It blooms in spite
of the darkness
when sunlight
begins to fade.
So many reasons
it shouldn't exist.
I wish it’s beauty
could be celebrated
with a smile.
As one of
those flowers
I may as well bloom,
because it’s gonna be
dark for a while.
There’s a flower
that grows in darkness.
Sep 18, 2018
Sep 18, 2018 at 6:07 AM UTC
The room was dank and dreary
The past hung in the air
There was a scent of mildew
A smell of history was there
The paint was old and faded
With stains all dark and brown
The wallpaper too was dated
And it needed to come down
It was a home for 50 years
That stood so strong and proud
It comforted all of our fears
Far from the madding crowd
We stripped away the paper first
Each layer a strip in time
It showed the old room at her worst
It really seemed a crime
To tear it down, and think of when
Each layer was first applied
The walls that seemed so tall again
I just stood there and cried
I thought about the birthdays
Celebrated in this room
Of getting covered all in glaze
That we cleaned off with a broom
The roses were much redder
Than I remembered them to be
In fact it now looked better
Than it did when I was three
I remembered Mother loved this
And of how it made her smile
And she gave Father a light kiss
After toiling all the while
The next layer though was not as nice
"Twas beige and a sort of lime
It made the room feel cold like ice
It spoke of another, somber time
I looked at the wall and I noticed the lines
Marking our heights as we grew
This was on a paper all covered in vines
Mom loved this one, we knew
It seemed surreal that Mom was not here
To see these passages pass
But we knew in our hearts that she was stil near
As we looked at paper covered with Bass
That was from when Unlcle Jim came to stay
And our folks gave up their room
To help out a brother who I still love to this day
One who can always help brighten my gloom
They changed the wall just for him
To make it seem more like it was his
They put their life on hold for Jim
And the wallpaper choice was his
The years pass by more quickly now
The paper doesn't change too much
Jim moved out and that is how
The paper changed just a touch
Mom got sick and Dad quit work
He did the room in flowers for our mom
It was at this time we noticed the rooms quirk
One of those things that made you go hmmm
Far up in one corner behind a section of curtain
Dad had left a small square showing the years
worth of papers we were certain
It was to help mom with her tears
Now as we finished we looked to the man
Sitting alone in the old corner chair
He smiled at us as best as he can
But I don't think he knew we were there
I handed him some paper and I looked in his eyes
He stared clear on through me
And then he started to cry
This was the last of this paper he'd see
Dad and the house now have gone into dust
The years get short and have tapered
But to go back in time I know all I must
Do, is look at my small square of paper.
May 30, 2012
May 30, 2012 at 3:08 PM UTC
Last night we celebrated 40 years,
out to dinner we went.
So different than our wedding day
We ate and reminisced.
At sixteen I didn't have much sense
and at 23 you even less.
How crazy we were way back then
You in you bell bottom jeans and vest,
I in a black mini skirt and boots.
We road around until we found
a mailbox with Rev. on it.
In we went to get hitched,
borrowing your brothers' wife's' ring.
As the preacher pronounced us man and wife,
a box of kittens was my main thing.
A nudge from behind brought me back
to the day I'll always remember.
As we walked out the door
the ring I gave back.
Oh what a memory we did make
but the best of all
was our wedding night.
You road around drinking beer with your brother-in-law
and I went to a tupperware party!
Jan 30, 2011
Jan 30, 2011 at 11:09 AM UTC
They call it a 'Class War"
They call it a "War of Liberation"
whilst its just another instance of white oppression
Childish, immature, mean and nasty underachievers
like the kid on the beach who kicks over others sandcastle
because they are better than the ******* castle he made
Like that that uncool dumb teen who scatters the board game
because he's now seen that he is losing and cannot win at all
like those ugly pimpled friends who would play gooseberry
and cock-blockers because they can't get nice dates of their own
like that bitter mad one who will spill ink over your white top
or new Trainers because he or she has old and ***** ones
They are all from the world of the sicko psychos and damaged
talent-less mean, envious, sad pathetic people going nowhere
If I can't make it, why should others do and be winners
They all graduate to the divisive politics of the ****** losers
Power is stopping progress and advancement because they are down
Power is bringing achievers and enterprise down they can's gain
Power is sabotaging all that is good because they are bad in all
Measly fetid minds they plot and conspire in gangrenous network
dolts, scums, unwashed losers and rejects of society, bottom feeders
Come join the Party, our specialty is chaos and disruption of winners
The pathetic jokes of the white West, losers in their own backyards
picks on an African who came from disadvantages to better them
better educated, more intelligent, cool and stylish in every way
pack full of potential, going places they can never go or reach
Our sick, mean spirited under-achievers, expert losers and scums
crawled on the war-path, riddled with envy, sick with jealousy
ruin his progress, oppose and disrupt a black man who doubles
efforts to achieve, what if losers try is given to them on a plate
What here is done for the greater good, what here is honorable
celebrated victories for psychos, racist underachievers I think not
peoples power? more sick, tormented, jealous n envious chicanery
anarchy jealousy, anarchy shame, anarchy racists, anarchy liars
One Single Black achiever demonstrates the inherent strength
and grace of our all our Ancestors against sick, persistent white oppression. That's the story here.
If its a fair war, why hide and go underground, why fight *****
May 17, 2019
May 17, 2019 at 7:40 AM UTC
To Struga Festival Golden Wreath Laureates
& International Bards 1986
Stand up against governments, against God.
Stay irresponsible.
Say only what we know & imagine.
Absolutes are coercion.
Change is absolute.
Ordinary mind includes eternal perceptions.
Observe what's vivid.
Notice what you notice.
Catch yourself thinking.
Vividness is self-selecting.
If we don't show anyone, we're free to write anything.
Remember the future.
Advise only yourself.
Don't drink yourself to death.
Two molecules clanking against each other requires an observer to become
scientific data.
The measuring instrument determines the appearance of the phenomenal
world after Einstein.
The universe is subjective.
Walt Whitman celebrated Person.
We Are an observer, measuring instrument, eye, subject, Person.
Universe is person.
Inside skull vast as outside skull.
Mind is outer space.
"Each on his bed spoke to himself alone, making no sound."
First thought, best thought.
Mind is shapely, Art is shapely.
Maximum information, minimum number of syllables.
Syntax condensed, sound is solid.
Intense fragments of spoken idiom, best.
Consonants around vowels make sense.
Savor vowels, appreciate consonants.
Subject is known by what she sees.
Others can measure their vision by what we see.
Candor ends paranoia.
Kral Majales
June 25, 1986
Boulder, Colorado
5.5k
HOLI
On this day of Holi, today on a full Moon night ;
Lost evil and celebrated victory truth and things right.
Hirankashyap and his proud sister were so confident about their might;
But lost the evil Hirankashyap and Holika to righteousness .
Won Prahlad's faith against his father's viciousness ;
As burnt Holika into flames, survived Prahlad because of God's graciousness.
Let us also, all our vices burn, as burn will Holi, tonight
Along with ire, jealousy, suspicions, ego and all that isn't right
As arises morrow , spread may colurs of happiness, shining bright .
Armin Dutia Motashaw
Mar 9, 2020
Mar 9, 2020 at 5:56 AM UTC
"Alexander son of Philip, and the Greeks except the Lacedaemonians--"
We can very well imagine
that they were utterly indifferent in Sparta
to this inscription. "Except the Lacedaemonians",
but naturally. The Spartans were not
to be led and ordered about
as precious servants. Besides
a panhellenic campaign without
a Spartan king as a leader
would not have appeared very important.
O, of course "except the Lacedaemonians."
This too is a stand. Understandable.
Thus, except the Lacedaemonians at Granicus;
and then at Issus; and in the final
battle, where the formidable army was swept away
that the Persians had massed at Arbela:
which had set out from Arbela for victory, and was swept away.
And out of the remarkable panhellenic campaign,
victorious, brilliant,
celebrated, glorious
as no other had ever been glorified,
the incomparable: we emerged;
a great new Greek world.
We; the Alexandrians, the Antiocheans,
the Seleucians, and the numerous
rest of the Greeks of Egypt and Syria,
and of Media, and Persia, and the many others.
With our extensive territories,
with the varied action of thoughtful adaptations.
And the Common Greek Language
we carried to the heart of Bactria, to the Indians.
As if we were to talk of Lacedaemonians now!
5.2k
but it was only the old man
sitting there on the dock
his weathered smile and dancing eyes
when he spoke it was a rough sound
like cadence of seafarers raising sail
in the long rays of summer eve setting sun
off the ancient shores celebrated in song
he spun me a tale of uncharted lands
and beautiful maidens in tropical forests
wild nights in some forgotten port
*** and the dancehall glow in memory
they are the stories shared on the long voyage
they are the smile in this old mans memories
the scent of salt and the rhythm of
the waves breaking on the shore
surround as he weaves his story
with the years flowin like the waves neath the prow
tacking east to a rising sun
it seems like a living breathing dream
as alive as the sea herself
as alive as the sparkling beauty in the memories
of an old man
weaving his tale
by the seaside
Jan 7, 2014
Jan 7, 2014 at 7:12 PM UTC
Attended by old friends and mentors
the Great Bear's name is set in stone.
Protected by the roof of his architectural cave
his undying lines resound
in the celebrated corner of words.
copyright © Caroline Grace 2011
Dec 8, 2011
Dec 8, 2011 at 6:04 AM UTC
My African culture
Uprooted from my ancestors
And pused on from generation to generation
My African culture- might seem
wied sounds funny or looks like a
**** but these carry alot of benedictions
My African culture tells the story of were we
came from and most probably were we are heading
My African culture describes and names itself
there is really no need for a heading
My African culture the one source of pride and
Joy
My African culture hard to replace yet easy to enjoy
My African culture oh my beautiful culture
my soul screams in joy from the energy of my
people and from the rythm of the African drum my
heart beats
movements degin within my feet
my inner voice telling me to move
in a fleet
I dispiss and dislike a person who
malingers or derides his culture,such
a beautiful thing,such a precious
, Special thing
My African culture tells the true
tells of fallen legends, of great worriors
And of most celebrated heros though
it never varies the tall in the telling
Now that's my Wonderful African culture
Sep 26, 2020
Sep 26, 2020 at 6:13 AM UTC
When they said they maybe coming home
so many hearts implored
and as they celebrated
I was distracted by
All the balloons flying high in the sky
Feb 14, 2013
Feb 14, 2013 at 5:02 PM UTC
lotus in a mirror
its roots clutch crepuscular slums of dredging mud
deep dark stagnant
thick with worms and milk flower petals
we remain nourished
wisdom expands into darkness
all of us students in the school of shadows
irreverent desires reverent
wise children of light bathe in waters
of cimmerian shade
*** death and regeneration
are celebrated in ******
of feral lucidity
souls are soiled by devils
the bog swallows bones
to bloom seraph's and cherubim floating
the third eye open
a cascading light
secret kiss
a breathless eternity
at the root
flames lick
open orifice
of ripples silk
empyrean *** magicians
weave
hips voodoo
Oct 5, 2018
Oct 5, 2018 at 1:09 PM UTC
Somewhere at some time
They committed themselves to me
And so, I was!
Small, but I WAS!
Tiny, in shape
Lusting to live
I hung in my pulsing cave.
Soon they knew of me
My mother --my father.
I had no say in my being
I lived on trust
And love
Tho' I couldn't think
Each part of me was saying
A silent 'Wait for me
I will bring you love!'
I was taken
Blind, naked, defenseless
By the hand of one
Whose good name
Was graven on a brass plate
in Wimpole Street,
and dropped on the sterile floor
of a foot operated plastic waste
bucket.
There was no Queens Counsel
To take my brief.
The cot I might have warmed
Stood in Harrod's shop window.
When my passing was told
My father smiled.
No grief filled my empty space.
My death was celebrated
With tickets to see Danny la Rue
Who was pretending to be a woman
Like my mother was.
4.4k
If the Sacred Fire of Vesta went out, it meant one of two things:
meant
1. Rome was in danger;
meant
2. A Vestal ****** a guardian of the flame, was having ***
Chastity and fire
are two attributes that are directly correlated. If one is lost,
the other will follow. Trust me. This is fact:
only ****** women
can be celebrated.
The ****** Mary,
the ****** goddesses,
the way **** was seen as a crime
against the father, not the daughter:
women
must
remain
pure.
Do not eat the pomegranate seeds,
do not touch the fruit of knowledge. A
statue of a young boy
holding an apple
does not hold
the same connotation
as a woman holding an apple. Offering it to a man who
could have refused. Getting blamed for the fall from Eden.
A woman
with a snake draped around her body is not Eve,
is Lilith, but it’s close enough. They are both to blame for
all the evils of the world, so what does it really matter anyway? Women
are more susceptible to wavering in their faith in God,
to worshipping the devil, to practicing witchcraft—
The flames are out. Rome is not safe. A ****** is buried
alive for her sin. Lilith is slaughtering women in childbirth.
Babies are dying. A man is celebrated for his multiple
lovers. **** shaming in 79 AD. The beds in Pompeii
brothels are made of stone. St. Cecilia is face down in the
dirt. Women on the same level as slaves, if not lower. The
goddess Vesta as a housewife.
Aug 17, 2016
Aug 17, 2016 at 10:47 AM UTC
She picked it up from the seashore.
He encouraged her,
Flattered her with indulgence
To bring back her dying flame.
A girl once again,
She brought it home
In whimsically ebullient innocence!
On the polished floor
In a faraway city
It found it hard to walk
With the load of mollusk
And made a funny sight!
It strained its ears
But there was no sound of the sea,
No saline smell in the air,
Instead the water was sweet and insipid.
It went thirsty.
The food was alien,
It went hungry.
Soon they polished the shell
And celebrated addition of
Another showpiece in their room!
The crab had at last
Found a new home.
Apr 16, 2013
Apr 16, 2013 at 3:06 AM UTC