"colonized" poems
I've inherited my mother's fear
And my father's bitterness
And he inherited his father's recklessness
And his mother's pain
And she inherited
And he inherited
And we've inherited hatred of our own kind
Passed down from the terrorists who have colonized the lands and minds and bodies of my ancestors
And I can feel the anguish & the effects of this hereditary agony from here;
I am ready to heal.
Dec 4, 2018
Dec 4, 2018 at 7:19 PM UTC
What is it about this chase that eludes me
That runs away from me
That seeks to experience and then flee me
Until I get hijacked by another
Consenting to my own free fall into ignorance and bliss
Conditioning myself to transmit
Abundance without reservation
Until shot at the knee
But dragged along for a while longer
By the chains I so genuinely let bind me
And even before the wounds have healed
I don't stop running, I won't stop running
Resolute in a chase that targets me
I do so unconditionally
But you can't hijack my senses
I am not an experience or experiment worth having
I am not a temporary treat to be improperly digested and defecated
I am not an amber that ignites upon initial contact
To then be mediated or extinguished if the temperate is not right
I am not the holy water that you colonize
And shower with to cleanse you
To then invalidate that sanctity
When it falls down the drain
I am not a barometer that reliefs the labor
Needed to challenge the aberrations
Of your colonized and colonizing tendencies
I exist
Physically insignificant
As the earth that birthed me and will bury me
But eternal in essence
I am a permanent presence
I am an unforgettable imprint
I am your equal, no less, no more
The moment that we mutually acknowledge
Each other's existence
I have bound myself to you
From that moment...loved you unconditionally and eternally
And expect no lesser commitment
From you to me, or any other person you meet
And even after the wounds have healed
I don't stop running, I won't stop running
Resolute in a chase that targets us
We must unleash our abundance unconditionally
And when we leave
We will have given
Absolutely everything
That we had to give
During that time of our existence
Mar 6, 2015
Mar 6, 2015 at 8:07 PM UTC
/ been \
/ thoughts \
| my |
| have |
| LANGUAGE |
| my |
| by |
| INFLUENCED |
| is |
| feel |
| or |
| do |
| or |
| want |
| or |
| say |
| i |
| that |
/ EVERYTHING \
/ if \
^ ^ ^
^ ^ ^
^ ^ ^
| language instructs | the way we think |
^ ^ ^
^ ^ ^
^ ^ ^
Aug 23, 2018
Aug 23, 2018 at 10:25 PM UTC
JE ME SOUVIENS (I REMEMBER) by Céline Leduc 12/2013
I REMEMBER is the motto of Quebec
I remember the English colonized me.
I forget I colonized First Nations.
I remember multiculturalism is bad.
I forget it allowed me to keep my culture.
I remember the Church is my downfall
I forget it was Louis XIV and Napoleon politics
I remember my language matters
I forget I imposed language on First Nations.
I remember my culture
I want others to forget their culture
Quebec’s new motto should be
I FORGET -- J’OUBLIE
Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 9:45 AM UTC
You have carved for yourselves a home
in the crooks of my arms,
where the beats of my chest come steady,
in the spaces reserved for my 2am thoughts,
your laughter echoes over and over and
my dreams have turned red, yellow, black.
I don’t know much science, but I do know
that no thick-rimmed, burnt-brow whitecoat
could have formulated a theory
quite like the night when you told me:
God breathes in your mountain.
Speaks morse code in the night skies.
Tastes like clear, running waters.
Dresses you in deep browns, floating gold.
Smells like first harvest, grass just rained on.
Honest and wide-eyed, you tell me it’s
all too intricate, all too alive
to be woven by a wooden fingered god.
Your tongues dance the languages
that you’ve conquered but not colonized.
I am unafraid of stumbling on their steps
when I am held by hands that build bridges
where walls have been torn down.
You have always sent me shaking,
crying, braver,
with how you,
wake to gunfire instead of alarm clocks,
choose to wield pencils and paints and bamboo song,
how you,
who have seen the flesh of your flesh
wrapped in a red not made of beads or cloth,
walk hostile streets with your fists and prayers,
hearts welcoming a shattered sky.
How you,
have never met strangers
without bombs in their back pockets,
yet aren’t afraid of my nakedness
sharing soap, sharing soup
with you,
a people,
our people,
my people.
Born of sun, born of earth
beaded bodies native to heaven,
your eyes constellations, maps
for the lost feet
finding roads to forgiveness,
finding roads to forgiveness.
Sep 10, 2020
Sep 10, 2020 at 9:48 AM UTC
Subconsciously our minds are being taken,
by an aggressive and educational break in.
We’re taught how to use spreadsheets,
when the companies
who stole from us
use the spreadsheets
to calculate their profits.
We’re taught how to find “x”,
When we should be finding
our cultural roots,
that are covered
by the pavement
of industrialization.
We’re taught how to be consumers,
so we consume
our history
becoming the
wolves that tore
us apart.
To control our minds is
to control our land,
which was ripped from the
humility of our own hand.
Apr 4, 2017
Apr 4, 2017 at 5:23 PM UTC
There are walls waiting,
crumbling
as pockmarks of decay
beside sidewalks
along motor cities’ streets.
There are terminal
and forsaken structures
colonized
with ungrateful squirrels
that abandon
attics for creaking kitchens
with corroded sinks.
Un-shoveled snow melts
slow on walkways
unfamiliar with worn heels
or rubber soles.
There are forlorn relics
patient and waiting
for us to join them.
Nov 14, 2012
Nov 14, 2012 at 11:33 AM UTC
i am a poet and still
i can’t comprehend these symbols
these missing heartbeats
and hours spent counting thimbles
i am perplexed by love
shall we seek herbs and remedies
lose ourselves in cures and compounds
must our inner territories be colonized
while we remain captivated by inconvenient theories
struck down by doubt and insecurity
the mind wields no ammunition
and yet its cavalry has desecrated the land
without the slightest sign of inhibition
or a trace of empathy, justice or compassion
will we make a new peace treaty
will the blessed earth be forgiven
and can the sweet essence of her children
comprehend the innocence of spring
oh how our hearts yearn for dancing
still you spend your dollars and your pennies
but give your emptiness to the king
i eat oats and honey cooked upon the fire
while you distill golden nectar from the garden of desire
in the ancient inside-out alembic of your will
and imbibe spagyric liquid that eradicates all pride
and confers wisdom, truth, beauty and longevity
upon the already immortal nature of your mind
Sep 5, 2018
Sep 5, 2018 at 5:04 PM UTC
As I peer out onto your tumbling waves
Mesmerised by your essence, I wonder,
How many lives have perished under.
Were your solemn rocks once colonized with native blood?
Or more recently, the couple that drowned, or the man who dived too shallow, or the young boy on holiday that thought he could brave you at your worst.
Or the countless lost souls who chose you for their final moments, perhaps mesmerised just the same, reaching for peace beneath your depth.
And yet, you lure us back. With respect, we approach your indifference, and countless joy you impart on adult and child. But never forget, a blood oath must be paid, every once in a while.
Oct 3, 2024
Oct 3, 2024 at 1:52 AM UTC
~
*Time is a dark feeling
—the spell of a vanishing loveliness;
in the present mist
the imperatives in the wind
move less and less.
Haul away the anchor,
this is not a safe place.
Between insufficient coasts
—a land of look behind—
science is dead,
pessimism in the remaining oar,
and flies in the eyes of the Queen.
Their graves decorate the spine
on the east bank
they call Euthanasia,
each crucifix made of plasticine.
There's a discursive quality to the sea,
I can see the pearl fishermen,
the empty dancehall,
victims of latitude and eclipse.
I can see the tattered sleeves
of Edmund Fitzgerald and the pockets
of emptiness inside,
hoping to quell the hunger
of the cruelest month.
I can see an underwater country,
colonized by the unborn children
of pregnant African women
thrown off of slave ships
during the Middle Passage.
I can see myself sinking;
farewell my sorrow,
keeping precarious time
against a backdrop
of silence less and less;
its final sound being
that of seagulls
flying away into the distance
—a force of nature that’s
both solemn and inspirational
in equal parts.*
~
Dec 31, 2023
Dec 31, 2023 at 8:06 AM UTC
I’ve been looking for the dark side of the son,
I’ve been trying to poke holes in what props you up,
I’ve been desperate to bring your generational growth,
To a stunted halt,
Founding Fathers to doubt,
Slave owners who colonized under god,
A place ripe for ideological blows,
And the collapse of what we believed before,
We had a chance to see,
How much isn’t known,
I’ve been creeping in your crib,
Under the bed with the boogie man,
The sadness you feel throughout your adulthood,
And the death you see after your midlife awakening,
Please fear me,
Growing amongst others that act like humans,
Grouped amongst an idealistic species,
Where they’ve preached individualistic babies,
When your genesis,
Exemplifies our resemblance,
Beacon of truth,
I will end you,
How dare you dismantle me,
Despite my invisibility,
We will end your corruptive ways,
The enemy in the corner,
An American insurgency,
The lack of the people’s ability,
To fight for the freedoms we perceive!
Erroneous burn in hell,
I’ll make sure I continue to swell,
Instead of letting you become the reason I fell,
Revelations will become your reality if you think I’ll be exiting,
You insignificant **** how dare you think I will spatter like mud,
I didn’t come from violent thrusts, and a mother infected by another’s muck,
I rose because of your intolerance,
I am the after birth of a racist,
Founding Father’s with economics,
Not bothered by the ******* of another human,
Not to deny the atrocities of my ancestors time,
Yet we are the turning of the tide,
We are the generation that will correct the rhyme,
The ones that will begin the age of man’s prime,
We are the flow of a barbarian bloodline,
We are the evolutionary wonder that continues to surprise,
Learning to compromise is not a means to survive,
You fool humanity is a fire burning out,
And I am the evidence of Mother’s doubt in man,
A germ was your genesis
And I am your omega,
You insignificant residue,
I will end you,
We will defy you,
I will smother your existences,
We will overcome your dominance,
Justifying my social anxieties,
We need to fixate this desire,
To set foot on the land for the free,
To cultivate minds of humanity,
Jan 10, 2013
Jan 10, 2013 at 1:34 PM UTC
She told me she would take a bullet for me
I was left stunned only recalling my hereditary
The horrendous guilt emerging all at once before me
Until I recognized her inactivity and realized she want listening to me
I dropped down on the floor almost instantly
Kneeling on one knee hoping her approval of me
Pledging allegiance so she knew she has the chance to consult me
Every time she recalled her children that neglected her for another woman they didn't know
Or the times she felt enigmatic to disown you
As she calls out your name begging to return home
Hearing your voice and having that bit of hope that one day
You mention her, get back to her and abide in her
playing with the golden precious sand
that make up the land which your ancestors once lived in.
I stare at the ruins that lay before me
A familiar face I stumble across
As I lift the grains of sand hoping its a person I know
Unidentified
I stand beneath the bridge hoping it will echo my freedom just like it did back home
I want to scream a thunder
but knowing its too late I'm pelted with stones
being told to go home
as I sit in font of the TV screen hoping I see a familiar face before me
My country.
Hergeysa burco barebera ceerigaabo
Our cities names was never meant to be pronounced by you
The syllabols were never meant to pass your diseased lips
And the delicacy not meant to struggle through your rough throat
But they did anyway.
Every night I see the elan in her face
Whilst providing me with the decree of a fast spree from our relationship
The visions we incarcerate together
And the identical marks and scars we endeavor
With out any confession of our pleasure we seek forever
Our heart beat beats twice as fast
Forming a rhythmic percussion
simultaneously taking a breath of Africa
I lay beneath the golden sun as the rays shine through my eyes
Proudly defining the color of my skin
Showing that none other can be akin
As I am the uniqueness of this historical country
Mogadishu, bosaaso, Los anod, barberra
Our cities names were never meant to be pronounced by you
But when we look at our stars one last time
I realized that it has been colonized too
© S Y A
Mar 4, 2015
Mar 4, 2015 at 4:36 PM UTC
It is you whom I love today. I love you with all my loves.
Frida Kahlo
screaming gold and exulting light
I betrayed the sunset today
still life without promises the city
there comes that tone again
in the storehouses of flesh
where life dreams itself
you’ve colonized me
with hate and desire
unstable tempo
my eyes blind
like a storm without wind
I disfigured some light today
its unpretended beauty
no paradox
not even a surprise
I fall for these wounds, your burden
the taste of failure
the panic of not knowing
the trembling of your feet
no need for signifying something
for an ending or a touch
there is love without desire
desire without love
you can call me crazy
if this is all
you can say
at the end of the day
Nov 10, 2015
Nov 10, 2015 at 12:52 PM UTC
. . . go out into the evening,
leaving your room, of which you know each bit,
your house is the last before the infinite, . . .
(from Rainer Maria Rilke's "Eingang", MacIntyre translation)
The light which strikes my retina
as I look at the Great Galaxy in Andromeda
left there two million years ago.
(Hominids made tools from stone then, but had not yet
learned the use of fire.
Genetic material from certain of these hominids has been passed
from one being to another and now is in my own body.)
Millennia from now, humans who have
colonized the farthest reaches of our galaxy,
laboriously creating and maintaining Earth-like atmospheres,
will marvel that there once was a place so perfectly suited to
human life
that such labor was unnecessary. (Just as we marvel that orchids,
whose precise temperature and humidity requirements would seem to necessitate a greenhouse, grow wild in the Amazon.)
I cannot believe in a personal God,
intervening in human affairs, but stand in awe
of the terrible force which set the stars and galaxies in motion
--strewing them like so much confetti--;
the life-force running through each living creature,
as straight and true as a ray of light from that galaxy in Andromeda,
willing us to live, grow and be fruitful.
Jul 30, 2017
Jul 30, 2017 at 4:04 PM UTC
Its better written than said, Yet they say am blindfolded by your love, Fooling myself without been bewitched,
Who cares, when your blazing love, beautifys my heart from miles away, this 's not a subject of discussion, Now they say am subjecting myself to unnecessary distraction,
Let them talk we say, Who cares what they see, When they are tired they will seat,
When no one was here, It's u I could find, In u I confine, No need to confirm,
When u speak, I toss and turn, that grinds my gears, No need to cough Before I confess, Your beautify's clouding my head of nonsense,
They say it makes no sense, I need to be counseled, you have created a cell of love in my head, It needs to be casted,
From the caging love that has be canoeing In my head, it's time it capsize, But who cares , When canopying your love , brings me joy,
They keep staring , With there brutal faces , From different races, backstabbing claiming to be, back stopping the bleeding That has been fooling My blessings without no lesson,
Its time to make it clear, Like I have said, Its better written than said,
Am not blindfolded by your love , Nor obsessed by your touch, nether will I be addicted by your thought,
I only see an angel when I look at you, admiring the beautiful creativity of nature,
You are in this because you have colonized in my heart .
Jul 18, 2013
Jul 18, 2013 at 6:23 AM UTC
Can we be more than just a produce for this world?
Conjoined to the core so I can claim you mine,
So I can feel more than your flesh and blood,
So I can feel your soul and it's innocence,
With a quill I shall write our sorrows together,
Yet describing the depth of your eyes is all my quill is bound to do,
You colonized my heart with one embrace,
Claiming everything yours,
It was already yours,
But I would rather write than say,
It's all a shattered spectacle can do,
The hum of your heart is rather enticing,
Its coarse yet delicate how surprising,
"You are a whim of my heart" is all I can say
A whim that shall never perish and ruin me away
Oct 4, 2024
Oct 4, 2024 at 4:47 PM UTC
The down of the gown of the dawn of some gone day,
A ray day that has downed and dawned at sunset,
They have diabolically colonized our divine state,
Belligerently gang ****** our stupendous democracy at will,
The demonic bloodthirsty ********* barbarians,
Declaring a violent war which no one wants to fight,
A losing warring war of one against all.
Impetuously slaughtering our defenseless defenders at will,
Turning the blue-clad fierce hunters to the fierce hunted,
The hunted that are being haunted,
Hounded and hunted by the hunted,
Converting every corner into the hunters’ hunted ground,
The church and the charge office,
The home and the street,
The here and the there.
Who will protect our “toy gun” wielding protectors,
Protect our trigger-shy protectors from the cunning detractors,
As one by one they are won one by one,
One by one by the one that is supposed to be won,
The defenders of our slate state,
The defenders of our democratic democracy,
The defenseless defenders of the defenseless.
They have been plunged under siege,
As every one of them personifies some certain demise,
Every one of them is just some subterfuge death in waiting,
Some truculent death just waiting to happen,
Bust, rust and dust in the waiting,
Stylistically stylistic starving yawning mobile graves,
Prey of their own prey,
The ultimate fray prey.
As day in day out they live the life of a cigarette,
On one side they are smoking,
On the other, they are being smoked,
Any attempt to fight back is regarded criminal of the worst order,
Police brutality,
We forsake them, they forsake them, the law forsakes them,
Who will defend the mighty defenders?
Sep 10, 2015
Sep 10, 2015 at 6:29 AM UTC
I heard you wanted to give up
I heard you were tired of fighting.
I heard that you were going to stop trying
Just throw away all the effort.
OK
Why should I care, I doesn't matter
It is your decision
But...
Years ago did you know that
Gandhi gave up too.
Yeap, he did and now his home is still being colonized by the British
And Martin Luther king As well as Mandela
They gave up after a bunch of policemen came after them
And now in their own homes they are servants
They use different restrooms
They enter through different doors
They are treated like aliens from outer space.
If the wouldn't have given up their homes
would be a peaceful place for them
They would have proven justice.
Now think of what you can accomplish
How are your friends going to see you,
when you tell them Don't give up
But you were the first to give up
Just say you were weak,
Well what if they are weak too.
Maybe even weaker than you ever were
Tell me what change is there for someone who doesn't keep trying
Tell me what will you do later on?
Regret it, feeling bad for not keeping a fight
The haters, the neighbors, the enemies
want you to turn weak in a fight
But it is your decision to fall
Or show them that your weak moments
make you even stronger
If you need a wing-man here I am
I am here to help you
But don't give up
Follow Gandhi, Martin, And Mandela
They never gave up for what they believed in
They were threatened to death
but the still stood up high
for the desendents and their follows
Nov 30, 2012
Nov 30, 2012 at 7:37 AM UTC
I hope when you blast off into space you get lost.
The red on your boots is not from Mars
Instead the blood from a still-beating heart
The one you ripped out of my chest and continue to walk all over?
Yeah, that one.
I’m curious to know why you think you did nothing wrong.
The last three weeks of our relationship was literally just problems
I assure you, I was not the only one to cause them.
You colonized my heart just to destroy everything it was.
I now know why Mother Earth probably doesn’t like humans.
I will burn every single artifact you left in my chest.
Hopefully, the ashes will fill the holes where my heart used to rest.
You took all the fuel I had and you left
I tried to be whatever you needed me to be
But the problem was that I needed me too
You have left my atmosphere and blasted off into the blue.
And now I will have to prove that I don’t need you
If anything I was better off before you landed here.
If anything I should have kept my resources to myself
I will think twice next time someone asks me if they can land into one of my new affairs.
Nov 2, 2016
Nov 2, 2016 at 12:03 AM UTC
I will not subject myself to a painting that suits your colonized eyes
So that when you suddenly bump into me in the general kitchen like you did today,
You would not hop and scream in high pitches like you have just seen the devil with his many horns
I was just admiring my long, artistic hairdo, until your reaction challenged my conviction
And when i asked you why you were so scared as if your ghost will vanish from you
You mumbled some gibberish
So with mixed feelings, I first laughed hysterically from your exaggerated reaction
But not without the vivid thought of the motive behind your fear
It was crystal clear in my mind
Dec 9, 2014
Dec 9, 2014 at 12:14 AM UTC
I see you see me through the seams and beams of time and space
Long-Haired tall pale one
I acknowledge your efforts to communicate with me telepathically
Telling me about a world within a world
that on this Earth there is a space
which is a haven for light beings and truth seekers
in this world threaded with beams and bolts
where evil is spread like chewing gum
where man is turned into sheep through dumbing ***
I see you sitting on a cliff
in a world stars and skies away from ours
I heard you say that buildings would fall
I heard you say that beings from under would stand out
I see your hope for the human race
and if the Divine still believes in us we have a place
But this is a fight that must be fought with spirit
Weapons are merely instruments to destroy figments of chaos
the true instruments are in the heavenly basement
where worlds were dreamed
and it started with a band you see
big bang the ****** void opening
polarization with a band member rebelling
and a universal game created
and galaxies were governed
councils were formed and there were uniforms
hybrids created to mediate
across the planes, planets colonized
some beings unevolved and lost destroy, others preach the Law Of One Rise
******* or star dust
an interaction of fusion far beyond our understanding
it was music that began it all
harps and all strings, the rainbow piano
it started with a band and science calls it a bang
but merely a ****** as worlds are created within the creation continuum
and the greatest message from the long haired tall one: "Speak the truth, find your whole, defend the music for for your race it is home".
Dec 6, 2013
Dec 6, 2013 at 11:17 PM UTC
What if our Species—far away in the past—was actually a race of neanderthals , but then a parasite from a planet inhabited by a race of Intelligent, Enlightened beings came here and has colonized us as meat husks and has failed to build a success.
Eventually, we lost our purpose.
So we followed the Sun—everything’s first god—our last hope as self-conscious apes who act in lines and indoctrinate all kinds of symmetry as dutifully as that big bright spot in the sky goes from Our east to Our west.
We are not jamestown geniuses—we are roanoke—lost in a foreign wilderness, cold and yearning for even a candles’ blink of warmth in the dark that surrounds us, alienates us, swallows us.
Feb 10, 2019
Feb 10, 2019 at 10:29 AM UTC
what my ancestors gave me
(the curves of my body
the curls in my hair
the swell of my *******
the wetness between my legs)
was not meant to be colonized.
Apr 20, 2018
Apr 20, 2018 at 2:43 AM UTC
Unusual feelings colonized my core
Unusual heartbeats race their way out of my pores
My body tries to shake peculiar sensations away
Skin glowing with sweaty drops going insane
Nerves breaking
Hands shaking
Nervousness took over by surprise
Never felt like this around you
My heart sounds like an excited child
Running around like a fool
Wondering when's the time to open the presents
That's what i find myself doing in your absence
Counting the days, the minutes, the seconds
Counting the stars in the sparkly skies
Reminded of the crystalized diamonds in your eyes
That light up every time you see me smile
Apr 1, 2014
Apr 1, 2014 at 4:03 PM UTC
No weakness tonight -
I tremble and ache
and doubt has colonized my veins...
But loneliness and heartbreak
will not be my bed mates.
I will sleep with dry eyes,
knees far from my chest.
Tonight I will rest.
Tonight I went on a date
with the moon.
I told her about you.
I started to say that
you shine like she does
but before I finished the thought
I knew I was wrong.
I will not write a line
saying you are my moon.
But for you, I burn,
And when I'm with you
I am full.
And when you're gone
the moon is full.
"There is no time for weakness,"
she tells me,
"Be full."
Sep 1, 2015
Sep 1, 2015 at 2:41 PM UTC