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"colonization" poems
Lost is the African pride Gone are those who could ride the tide Left are those who drown beneath the wave Prone to dehumanization because of greed I see burning buildings Mutilated bodies Escalating violence And social unrest Lost is the Spirit of Ubuntu Left is a society deprived of its integrity Selfishness and poverty is at the core of our society Is the real Africa lost to antiquity? Crime is rife as people strive for a decent life. A decent life earned through decadence Should we stone foreigners because the government is failing to provide employment? Or should we burn down buildings so that our voices can be heard? I am ashamed of the profanity we breed It’s a calamity for us to be xenophobic It’s a taboo for us to call Africans foreigners in their motherland. It’s not who they are. It’s not who we are It’s not who you are It’s not who I am Together we are the Africa that has survived slave trade The Africa that has survived apartheid The Africa that has survived colonization The Africa that is surviving westernization We don’t fight for employment We create employment We don’t breed resentment We translate sentiments Let us evoke the Spirit of Ubuntu And let’s behave like men not animals Let us ignite the Spirit of Ubuntu And let’s stand like men immortal The Spirit of Ubuntu is what separates us from animals Terrorism shouldn’t exist in Africa It’s a disgrace for us to be unethical Xenophobia shouldn’t be heard in Africa Animosity is not our portion
0
May 17, 2017
May 17, 2017 at 6:28 AM UTC
The Spirit Of Ubuntu
Lost is the African pride Gone are those who could ride the tide Left are those who drown beneath the wave Prone to dehumanization because of greed I see burning buildings Mutilated bodies Escalating violence And social unrest Lost is the Spirit of Ubuntu Left is a society deprived of its integrity Selfishness and poverty is at the core of our society Is the real Africa lost to antiquity? Crime is rife as people strive for a decent life. A decent life earned through decadence Should we stone foreigners because the government is failing to provide employment? Or should we burn down buildings so that our voices can be heard? I am ashamed of the profanity we breed It’s a calamity for us to be xenophobic It’s a taboo for us to call Africans foreigners in their motherland. It’s not who they are. It’s not who we are It’s not who you are It’s not who I am Together we are the Africa that has survived slave trade The Africa that has survived apartheid The Africa that has survived colonization The Africa that is surviving westernization We don’t fight for employment We create employment We don’t breed resentment We translate sentiments Let us evoke the Spirit of Ubuntu And let’s behave like men not animals Let us ignite the Spirit of Ubuntu And let’s stand like men immortal The Spirit of Ubuntu is what separates us from animals Terrorism shouldn’t exist in Africa It’s a disgrace for us to be unethical Xenophobia shouldn’t be heard in Africa Animosity is not our portion
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40
1. De-Colonize This Space Drum circle protests genderplop demands Indigenous discount store camouflage We demand persistent stereotypes Solidarity initiative project Take back the people’s cultural statues Ethnographic curatorial practices Red spray paint fire imperialism Repatriate the Iphone Starbuck’s cups And don’t forget the “Hey! Hey! ** ** Because we’re, like, artists and stuff, you know? 2. De-Colonize This Space Too Guns and cholesterol made America great Fat white boys in discount store camouflage Duct-tape the Bible and the border wall We won our freedom with our Kalashnikovs Fake news back-stabber not a war hero SecondAmendmentSecondAmendment Lock her up get ‘em outta here yuge deal You RINO losers can grab my MAGA You snowflakes are sissies, you millennials too But ouch! my heel spurs hurt, oh boo-hoo-hoo!
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Oct 11, 2018
Oct 11, 2018 at 3:02 PM UTC
De-Colonization x 2 (with an occasional "Hey! Hey! ** **
To future conquering civilizations in galaxies far far away . . . don't worry about polluting the air, our smokestacks have shot dirty-bombs into the clouds for centuries, mixing rain drops with the black grime of industrialization, transforming our children's tears into cesspools of sulfuric acid and ddt. We've also drained the bayous and swamps and between you and me don't even bother landing in Africa there isn't suitable drinking water for miles, you see. You can thank years of colonization for that. In fact, you may not want to land on Mondays, Tuesdays, or Thursdays in LA either- on those days the air quality index is 175 and far too unhealthy for any biological organism to survive. But at least you won't die of malnutrition you've got decisions: McDonald's or Burger King choose cholesterol and diabetes are your shock troops. Send them in immediately, there won't be much resistance we've got these things call lazy boys and daytime t.v which have enslaved the population and decreased the distance between fully functioning human beings and mindless apes. Don't worry about bringing weapons we've got those too we've perfected the art of blowing each other away there's not much for you to do. we destroy cities with fire from the sky and our mushroom clouds rise at least ten miles high. And god can't see, there's too much smoke in his eyes and our radiated children die with radiated sighs. While we are on the topic don't worry about us spreading propaganda we've lost the ability to communicate. We've learned books turn a peculiar dark yellow when lighted and burned. And forget erasing history, we've done that too. Our subjugation of native peoples is masked as 'patriotism' under the red, white, and blue. But don't get me wrong, I tell you all of this not to dissuade, please come and attack, please come and invade. Here, I'll even turn on the lights . . .
0
Dec 23, 2012
Dec 23, 2012 at 9:06 PM UTC
Advice for Future Colonizing Civilizations
To future conquering civilizations in galaxies far far away . . . don't worry about polluting the air, our smokestacks have shot dirty-bombs into the clouds for centuries, mixing rain drops with the black grime of industrialization, transforming our children's tears into cesspools of sulfuric acid and ddt. We've also drained the bayous and swamps and between you and me don't even bother landing in Africa there isn't suitable drinking water for miles, you see. You can thank years of colonization for that. In fact, you may not want to land on Mondays, Tuesdays, or Thursdays in LA either- on those days the air quality index is 175 and far too unhealthy for any biological organism to survive. But at least you won't die of malnutrition you've got decisions: McDonald's or Burger King choose cholesterol and diabetes are your shock troops. Send them in immediately, there won't be much resistance we've got these things call lazy boys and daytime t.v which have enslaved the population and decreased the distance between fully functioning human beings and mindless apes. Don't worry about bringing weapons we've got those too we've perfected the art of blowing each other away there's not much for you to do. we destroy cities with fire from the sky and our mushroom clouds rise at least ten miles high. And god can't see, there's too much smoke in his eyes and our radiated children die with radiated sighs. While we are on the topic don't worry about us spreading propaganda we've lost the ability to communicate. We've learned books turn a peculiar dark yellow when lighted and burned. And forget erasing history, we've done that too. Our subjugation of native peoples is masked as 'patriotism' under the red, white, and blue. But don't get me wrong, I tell you all of this not to dissuade, please come and attack, please come and invade. Here, I'll even turn on the lights . . .
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64
I do not see space travel as an evolutionary event I look at it as an excess of dissociative disorder colonialism and the making of whiteness whiteness justifying the guilt by searching and searching somewhere else not somewhere better just somewhere else there is nothing better than how we evolved are place within experience all that surrounds us is intimately woven with our sheer experience that has evolved without the possibility of memory or redundancy or even a pattern or repetition to desire somewhere else is to leave the best most evolved experience of being human organic intelligence artificial intelligence has patterns that are not evolution or the experience there of they are patterns that are also of this desire to be some where else where ever it may be a space or an entity an other counter-transferance aliens colonization product of whiteness excess the profit of colonization dissociative disorder from the experience of being human if you teach people that evolution is something related to a process that is merely the documentation of the desire to be somewhere or something else slavery is a combination of somewhere else and something else it is like aliens inherently under control of a powerful military actually the alien extracted from their home all mighty whiteness is the most powerful dissociative power evolution did indeed give us the possibility to dissociate but is was designed for empathy not as a tool to be somewhere or something else the experience of the dissociative human declaring whiteness has other opportunity but to experience slavery since it is a dissociation it is delusional and although the human dissociating may not be within the structure of slavery they conceive they are without the original experience I notice them organic intelligence resumes
0
Aug 9, 2016
Aug 9, 2016 at 10:23 PM UTC
somewhere and something else simultaneously
I do not see space travel as an evolutionary event I look at it as an excess of dissociative disorder colonialism and the making of whiteness whiteness justifying the guilt by searching and searching somewhere else not somewhere better just somewhere else there is nothing better than how we evolved are place within experience all that surrounds us is intimately woven with our sheer experience that has evolved without the possibility of memory or redundancy or even a pattern or repetition to desire somewhere else is to leave the best most evolved experience of being human organic intelligence artificial intelligence has patterns that are not evolution or the experience there of they are patterns that are also of this desire to be some where else where ever it may be a space or an entity an other counter-transferance aliens colonization product of whiteness excess the profit of colonization dissociative disorder from the experience of being human if you teach people that evolution is something related to a process that is merely the documentation of the desire to be somewhere or something else slavery is a combination of somewhere else and something else it is like aliens inherently under control of a powerful military actually the alien extracted from their home all mighty whiteness is the most powerful dissociative power evolution did indeed give us the possibility to dissociate but is was designed for empathy not as a tool to be somewhere or something else the experience of the dissociative human declaring whiteness has other opportunity but to experience slavery since it is a dissociation it is delusional and although the human dissociating may not be within the structure of slavery they conceive they are without the original experience I notice them organic intelligence resumes
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77
He looks like a rasta Preaches no money only peace But smokes no **** He’s been sober all his life Like he just got out of rehab But doesn't mind if his friends smoke a couple trees He breaks it down like a b-boy That might of known Michael Jackson Then belts out American country music In the heart of Africa Designs fashion making Europeans wonder If they should colonize Africa again to get his resources. Neo-colonization anyone? He has small money He lives poor But lives rich Has his own humble home Like the adult he’s been since 15 And loves helplessly like he’s still 15 Despite the bruises the world continues to lash on his never aging soul. Ohhh Those bruises must hurt But he’s trying to heal them with his art He is an anomaly Doesn’t fit here or there But anomalies are perfectly normal They choose to sit in there soul Release truth that needs to be told Because it’s only natural Not fabricated The fabricated Really hates it. The fabricated Still takes a taste of it Because they want that Freedom The fabricated Watch in awe They say no You aren’t allowed to do that That’s a contradiction You’re a paradox Social lines wont let you cross that. Get back in line Get back in line Before we shoot you Because we want your freedom too. He’s been shot a couple times I think his soul is his armor But he lives in a human body So you can imagine he’s not all that bullet proof. Even if his body dies one day I swear his soul will live on. His freedom has no expiration date.
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Jul 3, 2016
Jul 3, 2016 at 3:41 AM UTC
You're a contradiction
He looks like a rasta Preaches no money only peace But smokes no **** He’s been sober all his life Like he just got out of rehab But doesn't mind if his friends smoke a couple trees He breaks it down like a b-boy That might of known Michael Jackson Then belts out American country music In the heart of Africa Designs fashion making Europeans wonder If they should colonize Africa again to get his resources. Neo-colonization anyone? He has small money He lives poor But lives rich Has his own humble home Like the adult he’s been since 15 And loves helplessly like he’s still 15 Despite the bruises the world continues to lash on his never aging soul. Ohhh Those bruises must hurt But he’s trying to heal them with his art He is an anomaly Doesn’t fit here or there But anomalies are perfectly normal They choose to sit in there soul Release truth that needs to be told Because it’s only natural Not fabricated The fabricated Really hates it. The fabricated Still takes a taste of it Because they want that Freedom The fabricated Watch in awe They say no You aren’t allowed to do that That’s a contradiction You’re a paradox Social lines wont let you cross that. Get back in line Get back in line Before we shoot you Because we want your freedom too. He’s been shot a couple times I think his soul is his armor But he lives in a human body So you can imagine he’s not all that bullet proof. Even if his body dies one day I swear his soul will live on. His freedom has no expiration date.
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54
No country’s history makes us proud. It is mere exploitation and colonization. the poor were suppressed and oppressed. The rich reveled in utmost luxury And the weak lived in extreme penury. The kings were fond of eulogy And the poets excelled themselves in their elegy. In the countries like India, the money was looted the temples were plundered, and the system was blundered And her progress was greatly hindered Slowly the kings and kingdoms vanished the so called democracies and socialism flourished the bureaucracy and plutocracy replaced autocracy Corruption and criminality maintained their status quo After Independence, a new class emerged in India. They became the rulers in the name of democracy. There have been un-imaginable scandals Money reached the Swiss bank like pearls in the ocean India is a poor country but the Indians are rich
0
Mar 10, 2011
Mar 10, 2011 at 3:59 AM UTC
BUREAUCRACY VERSUS AUTOCRACY
over-caffeinated like a maj-gician (the electricians of existence), Matilda sang her morning brew a lullaby as she convinced breakfast not to panic from the pain of the frying pan- "sit quietly, take the pain, feel the burn- SIZzle! soon you'll be a human being and begin your life as a synthetic deity free within the skin of metastasized consciousness." soon the egg seized in pleasure; a masochistic joy overtook it as yoke splurged from within like ****** ***** during ******* when the gimp has forgotten the safety word, screaming BANANA NEW YORK CODE ORANGE   ! ! ! while the perpetrator continues to scream verses from the Bible and Leviticus 1:3; an audiotape of On Being and Nothingness sends chills down the dark-sides spine in a hyperreal realization of the role choice plays in evils mortality. must we listen while we speak? does reciprocity die in egoic colonization of the African subcontinent of the mind? is this the beginning of an age of autism born within the confines of illuminated rectangles of permissible distance and social hell-frozen-over? man, you weren't even paying attention. **** you.
0
Jun 7, 2013
Jun 7, 2013 at 3:06 PM UTC
trading dreams for dollars
Today again I saw a gate in the sky. Streams of pale light trickled through it. I no longer looked at the sun, only straight ahead, My silhouette reflected in the ***** tram window. I looked farther, hypnotized, sipping words veiled in the dust of the autumn sun. Dry spaces. Leaves. Golden bile sparkled, And no one saw this wonder in the sky. At the stop, in the crowd rushing by, An experiment took place: A man wrapped in copper threads. He searched for relief while anger bound his soul. He fought the air, attacked with words, Like a puppet moving in convulsions. Hands clenched, anger in his eyes. “This will pass, this will fade,” I thought, Moving to another car. A primal tremor. A change of frequency. Someone is turning the **** of our universe. How many more cells of the body will they spoil Before it is ground to ashes? Until all ends in colonization, A reward for micro-souls from another world. People sunk in their minds do not hear the hum of strings. And I plead in my thoughts: listen, look, be your reality. Behind the gate a hundred weeks ago, a crackling gramophone plays. My calm relieves someone’s thoughts. Somewhere, thousands of hours ago, the past becomes the future. Next time when you pass by me, indifferent, the warmth of my thought will warm your Dry, wrinkled hands. I will never know You, and I would like to know what you will say when these trembling words arrive on the wind. In the autumn glow of the setting sun, Like a gentle brushing of leaves at the next opening of the gate. I will be there in the crack like a stray thought that wanted to become immortality.
0
Sep 25, 2025
Sep 25, 2025 at 5:59 PM UTC
Tremor
Today again I saw a gate in the sky. Streams of pale light trickled through it. I no longer looked at the sun, only straight ahead, My silhouette reflected in the ***** tram window. I looked farther, hypnotized, sipping words veiled in the dust of the autumn sun. Dry spaces. Leaves. Golden bile sparkled, And no one saw this wonder in the sky. At the stop, in the crowd rushing by, An experiment took place: A man wrapped in copper threads. He searched for relief while anger bound his soul. He fought the air, attacked with words, Like a puppet moving in convulsions. Hands clenched, anger in his eyes. “This will pass, this will fade,” I thought, Moving to another car. A primal tremor. A change of frequency. Someone is turning the **** of our universe. How many more cells of the body will they spoil Before it is ground to ashes? Until all ends in colonization, A reward for micro-souls from another world. People sunk in their minds do not hear the hum of strings. And I plead in my thoughts: listen, look, be your reality. Behind the gate a hundred weeks ago, a crackling gramophone plays. My calm relieves someone’s thoughts. Somewhere, thousands of hours ago, the past becomes the future. Next time when you pass by me, indifferent, the warmth of my thought will warm your Dry, wrinkled hands. I will never know You, and I would like to know what you will say when these trembling words arrive on the wind. In the autumn glow of the setting sun, Like a gentle brushing of leaves at the next opening of the gate. I will be there in the crack like a stray thought that wanted to become immortality.
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42
~ *Hark! He knocks. Time, it's time, the Kuroi Jukai within me. Finding an unordinary drifting off to sleep point, a hollowed-out spot, where I can let God dream for me. Whistles in the wind, in lullaby the sky and sea seem to trade places, bending around me as vertical blanketed surges. My carcass is a colonization (of bones) for my dearly departed ones, forbearers of migration, seeking endless sea, until like them, I settle upon their ancestral shore.* ~
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Sep 28, 2021
Sep 28, 2021 at 2:13 PM UTC
Whale Bones
I encourage you to abandon your faith imagine the uncondonable do the unpardonable and rest in the arms of father mountain I encourage you to go beyond your thoughts appeal to your animalistic self let go of your inhibitions and tear me up in bed I encourage you to try the impossible reach the corners of your body where pleasure is indigenous where there will never be colonization I encourage you to learn a new language to not be patriotic and worship your own flesh resist majoritarian temptation and dig an altar to yourself I encourage you to love me without strings, with no chains, corral me, make me struggle, and deep your soul within my veins love me whole sin fragmentations love me across borders without concessions with negotiations and complications I encourage you to love.
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Jan 19, 2014
Jan 19, 2014 at 2:59 AM UTC
*** and Heart-Sexo y Corazon
The villages of Algiers Well, suburbs Really, but villages Is what is said In French And heaven Knows, despite one Hundred thirty years of Colonization Brutalization Deprivation The many Algerians Still Love French. Those Villages team with men At night. At night, the women Wait Indoors Behind doors, away. Waiting. But at night the Men take the streets. At night the men crowd Streets, cut in Front of traffic, clog Cafes, stream Toward the mosque away From the mosque fill stores But mostly Mostly they Squat Sit, or just Hold up walls. They lean. Stare. Talk. They watch cars As they jostle and jolt Watch other men Walking, watch The silence The noise. Watch Stars, the Dark Still buildings The passing cat, the rhythm Of the wind, Watch the gibbous moon and It’s cycle The fullness, the waxing and waning They watch They witness The villages The suburbs The streets They watch The dead.
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Sep 3, 2014
Sep 3, 2014 at 9:28 AM UTC
The Villages of Algiers
All these stanzas look alike they talk about the same things with the same words, the same poem written over and over again like voices, whispers, copying each other unable to feel and trust experience differently, socialized for homogeneity unified but dull, strong but obedient their writing seemed the narratives of machines unable to innovate plagiarizing voices they believed were their own, authentic, pure their literary journals were a politics of masters of arts and agendas of contests like car commercials without a proper enjoyment of speed, or our favorite writers whose names we only knew because they were the ones who died at the right time while somebody was looking, reading them but the bookstores didn’t know their metaphors were weak, or their life’s work was merely symbolic, that’s the thing isn’t it poets are only symbols, as poems are only fluff, paper, the labor of writers-in-residence while the rest of the world are more interested in serial killers and which stocks might be worth getting into, and when to sell out investing in words seemed silly to them and, in my selected works there was nothing of how to be a Poet Laureate or how to win prizes exceptional or not, publication was left to amazon state grants, fellowships, visiting writers academics who never felt truly how to write poetry at its heart was a colonization of artists few could share what that meant, we were the first illiterate generation, spending more time with the internet than with books.
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Oct 18, 2014
Oct 18, 2014 at 12:04 PM UTC
On the decline of literacy
All these stanzas look alike they talk about the same things with the same words, the same poem written over and over again like voices, whispers, copying each other unable to feel and trust experience differently, socialized for homogeneity unified but dull, strong but obedient their writing seemed the narratives of machines unable to innovate plagiarizing voices they believed were their own, authentic, pure their literary journals were a politics of masters of arts and agendas of contests like car commercials without a proper enjoyment of speed, or our favorite writers whose names we only knew because they were the ones who died at the right time while somebody was looking, reading them but the bookstores didn’t know their metaphors were weak, or their life’s work was merely symbolic, that’s the thing isn’t it poets are only symbols, as poems are only fluff, paper, the labor of writers-in-residence while the rest of the world are more interested in serial killers and which stocks might be worth getting into, and when to sell out investing in words seemed silly to them and, in my selected works there was nothing of how to be a Poet Laureate or how to win prizes exceptional or not, publication was left to amazon state grants, fellowships, visiting writers academics who never felt truly how to write poetry at its heart was a colonization of artists few could share what that meant, we were the first illiterate generation, spending more time with the internet than with books.
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37
Music that makes you cry And a love that makes you want to die A beat that makes you scream And someone with whom to scheme A world that never ends The impossibility of making amends A colonization you can not escape The place that will never take shape Taking over my mind...
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Dec 1, 2014
Dec 1, 2014 at 6:21 PM UTC
Mind
The London buses rush past in scarlet bustle I lay here watching them crash into the air. Noises from all corners attack and gnaw the calm And I simply listen as silence struggles to be heard. Sirenes, shouts, calls and construction Drill and hammer any natural remnant But I do nothing to stop this urban colonization I lie and look as the world rushes past. It screams, it laughs, it invites, it betrays. At once my nasty friend and loyal enemy, I smile through the window at its bleak legacy And simply observe the animal that is the City.
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Sep 19, 2014
Sep 19, 2014 at 10:28 AM UTC
Grey Days in The Smoke
nothing wrong with Africans worshiping the sun and the Native Americans worshiping the Great Grand Father Sky and respecting Mother Earth unfortunately the Europeans conquered the new world through violence deception savagery lies deceit **** ****** colonization Christianity slavery apartheid genocide while the Europeans took land and resources from other nations enriching themselves and building their nations considered themselves superior to People of Color and Indigenous People throughout the world and the world would not be civilized without their intervention and the benevolent actions of europeans but we know that it's all about power and wealth that be the guiding light of good and evil
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Oct 11, 2015
Oct 11, 2015 at 1:28 AM UTC
The Guiding Light of Good and Evil
Malinche Traitor to my race As I dig into your white thighs as I dive into your body 500 years of colonization Your blue eyes blue like the oceans your ancestors crossed to invade invade the land I call home just like you invade my thoughts, my flesh, my desire Malinche traitor to my cause as you kiss me i keep thinking will i be one of them? one of the men of color accused of not dating his own, loving his own, desiring his own buying into the "pa' mejorar la raza" narrative Malinche as you are laying over my chest i keep pondering if it's ok to desire you to hold you to tell you you are beautiful and i wonder how many times you've been told that by someone like me so i fall asleep in your arms wake up in the middle of the night and asked you to leave Malinche traitor to my desire.
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Sep 15, 2014
Sep 15, 2014 at 5:18 PM UTC
La Malinche
My country Nigeria, Am a citizen by birth, That’s the Criteria, A blessed nation on the earth, Driven by atrocities as bacteria, A place I was proud to call home, Am a negros and Nigeria is my home, But she’s going down the pan, Causing mortality in my clan. Due to manifestos, We commercialize with hoes. It started with our independence, We thought love would take Prominence, But rather war, corruption and coups, And Tribalism feed on us My plea goes to the world power, Our corruption is taller than any tower, Our leader convince us that colonization Was necessary, Seems we we have cross that boundary. Please colonize us again, Because decolonization has no gain, Remove all these leaders, The made us cry aloud to mothers. I admit we weren’t ripe, We just wanted to be free, Like the smoke from papa’s pipe, Please colonize us! At least Of these situations we shall be free!
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Jul 3, 2016
Jul 3, 2016 at 10:24 AM UTC
Please colonize us again
"We've used up and wasted all of our resources, so now we're gonna steal them from you. And charge you for it"
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Jul 2, 2018
Jul 2, 2018 at 3:16 PM UTC
Colonization
The teacher dies having made her small contribution to the colonization of other planets by motivating a boy who would otherwise be a coal miner to become a rocket engineer.                                   Throughout the nation teachers are sending their prize pupils through the funnel flask to produce technology from pure science. The mother and father are good, disciplined, god- fearing people who stand firm against dissolution and chaos. They hold their clod of soil in place and others do the same to create the landscape of community.                             Communities across the nation and the world produce the many to support the few who make the tools and do the math to colonize the planets. Once the secret of warp speed is discovered, expansion of the species is limitless.                    Perhaps it is not a direct contribution to destiny, yet some stories may be told for centuries. It takes constantly renewed consciousness to persevere, retell the stories and interpret lessons. You go, girl.
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Aug 9, 2015
Aug 9, 2015 at 5:30 PM UTC
October Sky
How long shall they **** our prophets, While we stand aside In hopelessness and  look? Silah., oh sihah  oh Silah? Oh Allah, said the Muslim. Why lord, asked the Christian, Shallom said the Jew! A few of whom knows What's wrong with the truth. Wisdom is better than silver And gold but the jew chooses gold. This is not antisemitism, This is the brainchild of capitalism and the Occidental colonization Of our minds lands and cultures. Bob said prophetic things and he sang revolutionary songs that resonates to this very day. We see the zion train every day but it delivers nothing to us. It comes empty but leaves With tons of our resources. But we ain't got much to say. We see the smogs from the Burning coals from its exhaust, We hear the tots of the soul train as it comes our way. we see nothing but gushes of blood as It seeps into the soil the Dutchmen Stood on to decapitate the sons and daughters of Congo. Courtesy of King Leopold of Belgium. Bob was right, A thousand years Of history will not be wiped away! #IvanBrookspoetry © #Bassapoet
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Aug 22, 2019
Aug 22, 2019 at 4:23 PM UTC
Bob Said...
me without you? me without you powerful perfect perennial sad
0
Jan 23, 2018
Jan 23, 2018 at 3:13 PM UTC
english colonization 1/11/18
Not until you can see the pain in our eyes, the scars on our skin, the protruding ribs and distended stomachs of malnourishment, till you can gape at small black bodies disfigured by kwashiorkor and colonization, till you can gasp at people that don’t look like you being branded like cattle, like animals on their way to the slaughterhouse (and thank goodness we’ve come so far, things used to be so bad) Not until you can marvel at the mottled marks of a whip, the black and blue bruising only white hands can inflict, till you can shake your head at teens boldly drinking under a whites only sign, till you can cover your mouth and peek through fingers at the water hoses, the dogs, the guns, the blood— black blood on black bodies in black and white photographs (and you inwardly sigh, relieved that it was so long ago and so far away) Not until you can retweet teenagers face to face with riot gear and tear gas, till you can shake your head and show that you’re different because your black studies class told you so, till you can give a 40 character message about how sickening the violence is, but you keep watching the videos of him her him her him her him her him her them shot choked kicked punched beaten whipped slapped killed by government sanctioned executioners Not until you can see everything but understand nothing Always have to be ugly raw hurting bleeding suffering Why can’t we be smiling laughing eating dancing breathing Why can’t we be smiling Why
0
Feb 4, 2020
Feb 4, 2020 at 1:21 PM UTC
when can we see photographs of blackness?
Not until you can see the pain in our eyes, the scars on our skin, the protruding ribs and distended stomachs of malnourishment, till you can gape at small black bodies disfigured by kwashiorkor and colonization, till you can gasp at people that don’t look like you being branded like cattle, like animals on their way to the slaughterhouse (and thank goodness we’ve come so far, things used to be so bad) Not until you can marvel at the mottled marks of a whip, the black and blue bruising only white hands can inflict, till you can shake your head at teens boldly drinking under a whites only sign, till you can cover your mouth and peek through fingers at the water hoses, the dogs, the guns, the blood— black blood on black bodies in black and white photographs (and you inwardly sigh, relieved that it was so long ago and so far away) Not until you can retweet teenagers face to face with riot gear and tear gas, till you can shake your head and show that you’re different because your black studies class told you so, till you can give a 40 character message about how sickening the violence is, but you keep watching the videos of him her him her him her him her him her them shot choked kicked punched beaten whipped slapped killed by government sanctioned executioners Not until you can see everything but understand nothing Always have to be ugly raw hurting bleeding suffering Why can’t we be smiling laughing eating dancing breathing Why can’t we be smiling Why
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14
the space federation wanted to know the architects who crafted the geodesic domes in protecting the civilization of mars in sustaining and withstanding failure of space colonization then captain shields stated Prometheus brought us fire but our destiny depends upon future of space exploration and tapping new resources but our main goal is survivability in any space environment through the will and fertile hands of man
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Oct 25, 2015
Oct 25, 2015 at 3:32 PM UTC
The Will And Fertile Hands of Man