"colonialists" poems - Hello Poetry

though their forces were small in stature their vision was of towering height they'd not be denied their tribal territories they belonged to the ancestral peoples the mountains of conviction they had in their beings were of resistance to the white man's unwarranted usurping histories pages have their feats recorded for all to see they were feats of great bravery the mountains of conviction flowed in their blood and it flowed as a massive flood they lost the battle for their tribal territories but they honored their ancestral pedigree the French the British the Dutch the white men took the lands from the indigenous man's hand the mountains of conviction were there in spades but the tribal people couldn't sustain the colonialists endless raids

0

Jun 16, 2013

Jun 16, 2013 at 7:05 PM UTC

ElizabethSquires

The Mountains Of Conviction

though their forces were small in stature their vision was of towering height they'd not be denied their tribal territories they belonged to the ancestral peoples the mountains of conviction they had in their beings were of resistance to the white man's unwarranted usurping histories pages have their feats recorded for all to see they were feats of great bravery the mountains of conviction flowed in their blood and it flowed as a massive flood they lost the battle for their tribal territories but they honored their ancestral pedigree the French the British the Dutch the white men took the lands from the indigenous man's hand the mountains of conviction were there in spades but the tribal people couldn't sustain the colonialists endless raids

34

1. the wind is prone to grand festival if you cook your own food by burning your hands in the day time at night then you will be also eligible for having a ticket this train will not stop at any station then how would you get on board why then do jump in front of the wheel the door gets open automatically you would also be a companion of that joy your name will also come up on the list of the blood donors with blood there will also hang pus and spew the colonialists with a black face will wind up their indigo-factories in the fire of the intellect the undergarment will burn there will come running bolder and bitumen the road is made your lipstick will be sometimes deep sometimes light tearing open the yellow afternoon a storm will take birth there will be no darkness in the amloki-grove 2. the ship is scheduled to start from jetty no 3 i come to stand on platform no 13 when i get on board the carriage standing near it takes me and runs to a vast run-way there are the lines of sweet briar i do not feel the pain of detaching from the soil when i am flying through the smoothness of the lotus-leaf i see a musk-deer was also running in a parallel line she stretches her hand to take me to the valley of her flesh we are turning round and round to enter into a volcano and the flow of its eruption is carrying us towards a ever-snow land

0

Sep 13, 2010

Sep 13, 2010 at 5:35 AM UTC

murari-sinha

grand festival

1. the wind is prone to grand festival if you cook your own food by burning your hands in the day time at night then you will be also eligible for having a ticket this train will not stop at any station then how would you get on board why then do jump in front of the wheel the door gets open automatically you would also be a companion of that joy your name will also come up on the list of the blood donors with blood there will also hang pus and spew the colonialists with a black face will wind up their indigo-factories in the fire of the intellect the undergarment will burn there will come running bolder and bitumen the road is made your lipstick will be sometimes deep sometimes light tearing open the yellow afternoon a storm will take birth there will be no darkness in the amloki-grove 2. the ship is scheduled to start from jetty no 3 i come to stand on platform no 13 when i get on board the carriage standing near it takes me and runs to a vast run-way there are the lines of sweet briar i do not feel the pain of detaching from the soil when i am flying through the smoothness of the lotus-leaf i see a musk-deer was also running in a parallel line she stretches her hand to take me to the valley of her flesh we are turning round and round to enter into a volcano and the flow of its eruption is carrying us towards a ever-snow land

58

The Authorities will shut them down again Each in its turn: The Brick, the Stray Dog Cafe, Foxy John’s (Beer Wine Good Food Low Prices), Cafe’ Zanzibar, Joe’s Eats down by the piers And Denny’s past, before the blood-crazed purge Exiled us scribbling hippies to the street To search again and build again a space Where verbs and nouns and smoke are flung about Because we are colonialists of the heart Who build up empires of beauty and truth http://www.visit-petersburg.ru/en/restaurant/196278/

0

Feb 16, 2019

Feb 16, 2019 at 1:20 PM UTC

lawrence-hall

Writing in Our Stray Dog Cafes

The Authorities will shut them down again Each in its turn: The Brick, the Stray Dog Cafe, Foxy John’s (Beer Wine Good Food Low Prices), Cafe’ Zanzibar, Joe’s Eats down by the piers And Denny’s past, before the blood-crazed purge Exiled us scribbling hippies to the street To search again and build again a space Where verbs and nouns and smoke are flung about Because we are colonialists of the heart Who build up empires of beauty and truth http://www.visit-petersburg.ru/en/restaurant/196278/

12

America was never just great It was flawed first It is practically an accident But better here than India The explorers came, and faster than a cinnamon skinned Arawak Native American woman could yell “the colonialists are coming!” The men in lily-white shirts shoved the unsuspecting indigenous off their land. The explorers were as lost as Louis and Clark without Sacajawea But a determined pedophelic peony planted itself in the deep brown soil The invasive plant started a genocidal streak all over the continent In return it won a couple cities and holiday and the Native Americans were bestowed with accidental exposure to smallpox and enslavement. To repay them we allotted reservations where people live in crippling poverty, put Sacajawea on a coin and Pocahontas in a movie yet we cannot fully allow them into our society, our neighborhoods, our schools because they are uncivilized. The only people who have any business being on this continent are uncivilized. What a shame. America still is not great It still shows scars and old behaviors from the 1400s, 1800s, 60s and even yesterday. The Band-Aid was applied but the wound never washed, never sewn up. So it sets, burgundy bruises and gore gaping at our present, our future. America’s past is far darker than anyone’s skin but is accepted while brown complexions are not. America’s roots are not up for discussion, white supremacy is not real. We are imagining things. We weren’t turned away at white linoleum restaurant counters, we haven’t been isolated from the rest of the country, our sufficiency in the English language hasn’t been questioned, our bodies haven’t been sexualized, politicized It’s all in our heads. Our heads, spinning with fiction, are buried Sinking towards the earth’s core, waiting to come out of the other side where oppression is not pressing down on us like a molten red brick wall. Our brown heads will come up out of the grass and be greeted by the sun and all will welcome us.

0

Feb 20, 2019

Feb 20, 2019 at 9:28 PM UTC

mhelaney_the_writer

On America

America was never just great It was flawed first It is practically an accident But better here than India The explorers came, and faster than a cinnamon skinned Arawak Native American woman could yell “the colonialists are coming!” The men in lily-white shirts shoved the unsuspecting indigenous off their land. The explorers were as lost as Louis and Clark without Sacajawea But a determined pedophelic peony planted itself in the deep brown soil The invasive plant started a genocidal streak all over the continent In return it won a couple cities and holiday and the Native Americans were bestowed with accidental exposure to smallpox and enslavement. To repay them we allotted reservations where people live in crippling poverty, put Sacajawea on a coin and Pocahontas in a movie yet we cannot fully allow them into our society, our neighborhoods, our schools because they are uncivilized. The only people who have any business being on this continent are uncivilized. What a shame. America still is not great It still shows scars and old behaviors from the 1400s, 1800s, 60s and even yesterday. The Band-Aid was applied but the wound never washed, never sewn up. So it sets, burgundy bruises and gore gaping at our present, our future. America’s past is far darker than anyone’s skin but is accepted while brown complexions are not. America’s roots are not up for discussion, white supremacy is not real. We are imagining things. We weren’t turned away at white linoleum restaurant counters, we haven’t been isolated from the rest of the country, our sufficiency in the English language hasn’t been questioned, our bodies haven’t been sexualized, politicized It’s all in our heads. Our heads, spinning with fiction, are buried Sinking towards the earth’s core, waiting to come out of the other side where oppression is not pressing down on us like a molten red brick wall. Our brown heads will come up out of the grass and be greeted by the sun and all will welcome us.

20

just one song... nothing more... soulfly's... tribe... nothing more... honestly nothing more... there's nothing to counter with... really... i'm guiding Aztec pyramids... to counter the European fascination with the Egyptian exposes... don't mind me... i feel, slightly bored... like... i feel bored, having to wesr sunglasses, because, i'd prefer to see the moon, and no star apparent... why am i wearing sunglasses in the night? i don't like seeing stars... i prefer seeing only the moon at night... like i might watch the pristine sky of azure during thje day and only one star... i'm sure i won't see as many moons during the day, as i see as many stars during the night! you, have, a, "problem" with me wearing sunglasses during the night? well... i have a problem to boot to counter yours... how about you keep your culture to your people and let them entertain / enjoy it... unless of course... your people are tired of entertaining / enjoying it? maybe it's the latter... given? sure as **** i'm tired of entertaining what this culture entertains as a byproduct, mediocre; but nonetheless requiring to be, "respected"... so the elite of other cultures is to be deemed... wait... wait... our cultural mediocre is to be deemed superior of foreign culture's elitism? really?! no... sign me up for dying the death of a pauper, than agreeing to that sort of ******** i'd be a son god with my hair coloring among the Aztecs... but among my whittle privy assorts, i'd be an esteeming social climber... death the pauper among the dreams of man, as man: the hoping depth of dream, in the reality of death... but he, the Englishman man, can first, dictate, his, "rights"... in Rochdale... start there... then work your way down... otherwise? sh.... ut... the... **** up! savvy?! you dictate where i tell you to dictate... you don't tell me what i am, and am not to do... when you made it, so apparent... your women agree to first, notably girls... and you... "defiantly" nod and approve to... no... i've been told what i am and what i am not supposed to do or what i am supposed to not do... you didn't have this discussion with a **** last time i heard... have the discussion you had with me, next time you... pretend to have it with one of your former colonial bull-whips... o.k.?! good... well! apparently a former colonialists requires to know what a colonial power-grip feels like... apparently the whip has become dry... it's almost like... the ******* are fetish frenzied culminating in a starving experience! even if they asked: i wouldn't enjoy the ********** role of a colonialist... i'd "enjoy" the whole affair... as i'd weep... striking an animal... i mean... smacking a dog... i couldn't imagine myself hitting a dog, disciplining it... but with regards to hitting a human? i just might entertain sifting through counters, equivalent to qualms.

0

Oct 2, 2018

Oct 2, 2018 at 11:16 PM UTC

removed.polaroid-scrabble

just one song

just one song... nothing more... soulfly's... tribe... nothing more... honestly nothing more... there's nothing to counter with... really... i'm guiding Aztec pyramids... to counter the European fascination with the Egyptian exposes... don't mind me... i feel, slightly bored... like... i feel bored, having to wesr sunglasses, because, i'd prefer to see the moon, and no star apparent... why am i wearing sunglasses in the night? i don't like seeing stars... i prefer seeing only the moon at night... like i might watch the pristine sky of azure during thje day and only one star... i'm sure i won't see as many moons during the day, as i see as many stars during the night! you, have, a, "problem" with me wearing sunglasses during the night? well... i have a problem to boot to counter yours... how about you keep your culture to your people and let them entertain / enjoy it... unless of course... your people are tired of entertaining / enjoying it? maybe it's the latter... given? sure as **** i'm tired of entertaining what this culture entertains as a byproduct, mediocre; but nonetheless requiring to be, "respected"... so the elite of other cultures is to be deemed... wait... wait... our cultural mediocre is to be deemed superior of foreign culture's elitism? really?! no... sign me up for dying the death of a pauper, than agreeing to that sort of ******** i'd be a son god with my hair coloring among the Aztecs... but among my whittle privy assorts, i'd be an esteeming social climber... death the pauper among the dreams of man, as man: the hoping depth of dream, in the reality of death... but he, the Englishman man, can first, dictate, his, "rights"... in Rochdale... start there... then work your way down... otherwise? sh.... ut... the... **** up! savvy?! you dictate where i tell you to dictate... you don't tell me what i am, and am not to do... when you made it, so apparent... your women agree to first, notably girls... and you... "defiantly" nod and approve to... no... i've been told what i am and what i am not supposed to do or what i am supposed to not do... you didn't have this discussion with a **** last time i heard... have the discussion you had with me, next time you... pretend to have it with one of your former colonial bull-whips... o.k.?! good... well! apparently a former colonialists requires to know what a colonial power-grip feels like... apparently the whip has become dry... it's almost like... the ******* are fetish frenzied culminating in a starving experience! even if they asked: i wouldn't enjoy the ********** role of a colonialist... i'd "enjoy" the whole affair... as i'd weep... striking an animal... i mean... smacking a dog... i couldn't imagine myself hitting a dog, disciplining it... but with regards to hitting a human? i just might entertain sifting through counters, equivalent to qualms.

142

The Scaffolding at Notre Dame is like a rib cage of The Phoenix rising from ashes in a secular state of Macronism. Banning the Hijab, Yellow Vests and thought, has brought the wrath of Karma on the French Colonialists. Yemen, Syria. Libya and all her recent excursions into the realms of a lost empire is the price they must now pay for Greenpeace. Nobody give a **** about you France.

0

Apr 16, 2019

Apr 16, 2019 at 8:54 AM UTC

ryan-olearyuu

Échafaudages d'incendie.

The Scaffolding at Notre Dame is like a rib cage of The Phoenix rising from ashes in a secular state of Macronism. Banning the Hijab, Yellow Vests and thought, has brought the wrath of Karma on the French Colonialists. Yemen, Syria. Libya and all her recent excursions into the realms of a lost empire is the price they must now pay for Greenpeace. Nobody give a **** about you France.

10

*and he said: there are plenty of neo-Nazis in Poland... and i said: i won't even cite what's pop in England; comparing Poles to rats i guess i have to give you a sieg heil salute to keep it chequers cheap and ask William how he felt anally ******* Harold's merry men.* it would be so good to include the good people in the whole affair... never mind the ******** was always the punk pop hit for *** pistols... when the self-titled rock metal album wasn't... call it subterfuge, i just call it subhuman... but that's what defined radio 1 when Iron Maiden hit it with: bring your daughter to the slaughter... chappies gaffed and choked at their no. 1... the latter rejected, glorified Rousseau and later ****** gassed at Ypres stiff from Mustard... later justified at Auschwitz... here comes a beginning, former colonial powers sticking to being the vocabulary powers of interests, not to be done... god those English colonialists are fake nervous, with the Irish glorification anti Northern Eire... i look at it as it is: ****** was gassed... what's the horror of Auschwitz? Himmler or the Third ***** tango? the man was gassed in the trenches... why is it that you can't craft a Dracula from him? oh wait... now i know... because he experienced the same as his victims... and as the Jewish poet Tuwim explained: he too, was human.... it's funny how nothing mythological will come from ****** i too count myself human... your idiotic far-left vocabulary will only assert a following of so-many hungers readied to engage in protest - i don't know why far-left politics is always eager to make people revise their vocabulary, while the far-right politics is always eager to make people revise their actions... well... as the vermin of England said... you're never too sure whether you're drinking a pint of Guinness on a friendly footing with the Irish, or whether the ales are out for separatist conversation with the Scots.

0

Aug 16, 2016

Aug 16, 2016 at 10:40 PM UTC

removed.polaroid-scrabble

subhumans among us

*and he said: there are plenty of neo-Nazis in Poland... and i said: i won't even cite what's pop in England; comparing Poles to rats i guess i have to give you a sieg heil salute to keep it chequers cheap and ask William how he felt anally ******* Harold's merry men.* it would be so good to include the good people in the whole affair... never mind the ******** was always the punk pop hit for *** pistols... when the self-titled rock metal album wasn't... call it subterfuge, i just call it subhuman... but that's what defined radio 1 when Iron Maiden hit it with: bring your daughter to the slaughter... chappies gaffed and choked at their no. 1... the latter rejected, glorified Rousseau and later ****** gassed at Ypres stiff from Mustard... later justified at Auschwitz... here comes a beginning, former colonial powers sticking to being the vocabulary powers of interests, not to be done... god those English colonialists are fake nervous, with the Irish glorification anti Northern Eire... i look at it as it is: ****** was gassed... what's the horror of Auschwitz? Himmler or the Third ***** tango? the man was gassed in the trenches... why is it that you can't craft a Dracula from him? oh wait... now i know... because he experienced the same as his victims... and as the Jewish poet Tuwim explained: he too, was human.... it's funny how nothing mythological will come from ****** i too count myself human... your idiotic far-left vocabulary will only assert a following of so-many hungers readied to engage in protest - i don't know why far-left politics is always eager to make people revise their vocabulary, while the far-right politics is always eager to make people revise their actions... well... as the vermin of England said... you're never too sure whether you're drinking a pint of Guinness on a friendly footing with the Irish, or whether the ales are out for separatist conversation with the Scots.

42

Malignant gangrenous political cancer corrupts, festers, and poisons United States, thus opposition cannot wait, especially since Gospel in accordance with feeble minded Donald Trump implemented wrought ugly trait, particularly obliteration, sans progressive human rights legislation more or less pronounced positive in every L ionized Nittany or cotton bowl state and ratiocination inherent within mine Democrat oriented mind doth rate this forty fifth president (defect) with sawdust packing his noodle oven egotistical pate trophy wife (spouse number three), a Slovenia mate donning "I don't care anymore" t-shirt rousing media firestorm of late essentially silently corroborating, fostering, and illuminating hate mutely bolstering the Trump anthem, viz make America great again, which pathless, pithless, and pointless aim roars like an earsplitting runaway freight train oblivious of wailing soul asylum, that no era meets said criteria backtracking time machine before rightful indigenous occupants of this land got decimated as one after another exploiter did inundate (comprising a multitude of indigenous variety of village people indignantly subjected to Genocide, when first "discoverer" of new land didst promulgate activation wrought deliberate sealed fate vis a vis capitulation, demolition, and extirpation, cuz a scathing rebuke aye attest, those murderers didst equate worthlessness of so called "Indians" on 1492 date, and still remnants of storied tribes, now attempt to create historical documentation operate ting with limited resources to adjudicate. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Food methinks doth buzzfeed drumbeat agog at pyrotechnics July 4th, 2018 shared as blog posts, a falsehood prevails which dog gone “FAKE” brewed watered down grog posits that the majority of Colonialists stay hog tied to strict task masters, and mainly the scant upperclass experienced autonomy, no matter the under class didst futilely rant and rave with the occasional uprisings over time did grant minimal appeasement to stifle violent kant!

0

Jul 4, 2018

Jul 4, 2018 at 1:00 AM UTC

matthew-scott-harris2p

The Propagation Of Hate

Malignant gangrenous political cancer corrupts, festers, and poisons United States, thus opposition cannot wait, especially since Gospel in accordance with feeble minded Donald Trump implemented wrought ugly trait, particularly obliteration, sans progressive human rights legislation more or less pronounced positive in every L ionized Nittany or cotton bowl state and ratiocination inherent within mine Democrat oriented mind doth rate this forty fifth president (defect) with sawdust packing his noodle oven egotistical pate trophy wife (spouse number three), a Slovenia mate donning "I don't care anymore" t-shirt rousing media firestorm of late essentially silently corroborating, fostering, and illuminating hate mutely bolstering the Trump anthem, viz make America great again, which pathless, pithless, and pointless aim roars like an earsplitting runaway freight train oblivious of wailing soul asylum, that no era meets said criteria backtracking time machine before rightful indigenous occupants of this land got decimated as one after another exploiter did inundate (comprising a multitude of indigenous variety of village people indignantly subjected to Genocide, when first "discoverer" of new land didst promulgate activation wrought deliberate sealed fate vis a vis capitulation, demolition, and extirpation, cuz a scathing rebuke aye attest, those murderers didst equate worthlessness of so called "Indians" on 1492 date, and still remnants of storied tribes, now attempt to create historical documentation operate ting with limited resources to adjudicate. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Food methinks doth buzzfeed drumbeat agog at pyrotechnics July 4th, 2018 shared as blog posts, a falsehood prevails which dog gone “FAKE” brewed watered down grog posits that the majority of Colonialists stay hog tied to strict task masters, and mainly the scant upperclass experienced autonomy, no matter the under class didst futilely rant and rave with the occasional uprisings over time did grant minimal appeasement to stifle violent kant!

60

What can I say about mirrors except that some colonialists bought and painted country's with its reflection or as they would Jo-Kingly recall Give a monkey a mirror and he will think he's a God

0

Apr 10, 2019

Apr 10, 2019 at 3:34 PM UTC

DMC

A looting reflection

What can I say about mirrors except that some colonialists bought and painted country's with its reflection or as they would Jo-Kingly recall Give a monkey a mirror and he will think he's a God

4

Luck is not on my side Though I am good A pretty rough divorce Friendship breakups Numerous misunderstandings Not picking up social cues Been through it all God not answering my call! Luck is not on my side Betrayed by somebody Who was once a best friend Made to feel like a nobody Ghosted for an innocent Facebook comment Guilty until proven innocent!! Luck is not on my side I've had a tough ride In spite of being sweet Always tasting defeat Be it at work Or outside work!! Luck is not on my side Never been able to take the lead Though forever learning Not to mention, improving To me, India hasn't been kind Messing up with my mind Over and over again So much pain for no gain!! Luck is not on my side Where am I bad As far as character is concerned? Please be bold And tell it to my face Should get me out of a bad phase!! Luck is not on my side When will this end? I've been a patriot But it's gone to waste It's time for me To finally break free And switch my loyalties Maybe to our neighbours Or even better, our old colonialists Yes, luck is not on my side But I'm switching sides Then luck will finally be on my side!!

0

Sep 27, 2025

Sep 27, 2025 at 1:28 PM UTC

Ashwinkumar1989

Luck Is Not On My Side

Luck is not on my side Though I am good A pretty rough divorce Friendship breakups Numerous misunderstandings Not picking up social cues Been through it all God not answering my call! Luck is not on my side Betrayed by somebody Who was once a best friend Made to feel like a nobody Ghosted for an innocent Facebook comment Guilty until proven innocent!! Luck is not on my side I've had a tough ride In spite of being sweet Always tasting defeat Be it at work Or outside work!! Luck is not on my side Never been able to take the lead Though forever learning Not to mention, improving To me, India hasn't been kind Messing up with my mind Over and over again So much pain for no gain!! Luck is not on my side Where am I bad As far as character is concerned? Please be bold And tell it to my face Should get me out of a bad phase!! Luck is not on my side When will this end? I've been a patriot But it's gone to waste It's time for me To finally break free And switch my loyalties Maybe to our neighbours Or even better, our old colonialists Yes, luck is not on my side But I'm switching sides Then luck will finally be on my side!!

46

Lawrence Hall [email protected] https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/ poeticdrivel.blogspot.com The Unfashion of the Romantics …the romance of intellectual adventure. -Daisy Hay, preface to Young Romantics Thesis: The Romantics are simply demode, my dear Those structured paleo-colonialists Who rattle on about flowers and love And craft blank verse about walks in the wood Antithesis: Oh, but note, if you will, young lovers who Thoughtlessly put their sunlit heads together Over an open Keats, reading to each other Among the unwritten leaves of their youth And now note, if you will, young thinkers who Thoughtfully put their sunlit words together Over an open Byron, arguing for freedom Among and for the peoples of the earth Synthesis: The young are lines of iambic pentameter New lines, new lives, discovered in each other

0

Oct 18, 2020

Oct 18, 2020 at 9:42 AM UTC

lawrence-hall

The Unfashion of the Romantic Poets

Lawrence Hall [email protected] https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/ poeticdrivel.blogspot.com The Unfashion of the Romantics …the romance of intellectual adventure. -Daisy Hay, preface to Young Romantics Thesis: The Romantics are simply demode, my dear Those structured paleo-colonialists Who rattle on about flowers and love And craft blank verse about walks in the wood Antithesis: Oh, but note, if you will, young lovers who Thoughtlessly put their sunlit heads together Over an open Keats, reading to each other Among the unwritten leaves of their youth And now note, if you will, young thinkers who Thoughtfully put their sunlit words together Over an open Byron, arguing for freedom Among and for the peoples of the earth Synthesis: The young are lines of iambic pentameter New lines, new lives, discovered in each other

24