"cultures" poems
He told her she was pottery; a vase with grooves and cracks.
The patterns of the history she hid behind her back.
Within his words he layered in- like thread upon a loom-
The sweetest undercurrent to illuminate that gloom.
In certain cultures, he decreed, when pottery is cracked
They aggrandize them with gleaming gold to bring their splendor back
For they believe, with certainty, once damage has been wrought
Those tiny cracks, now filled with light, hold truths that can't be taught.
Jun 11, 2015
Jun 11, 2015 at 6:32 PM UTC
Maybe it's the way the national flag flies so high
Despite the country's imperfections
Maybe it's the way we're united
Not separated, despite the difference in cultures,
Believes, traditions, languages
Maybe it's the way you see an Indian eating with chopsticks,
The way you see a Malay in a saree,
The way you see a Chinese making ketupat's for Hari Raya.
Maybe it's the unity you see,
Maybe it's the goosebumps you feel when you say Merdeka,
Maybe despite the hate you have towards history,
Deep down, you know how grateful you are to be Malaysian.
Maybe it's the way you walk into a mamak,
And say
" tauke tapau roti canai 1 milo ais 99 "
And maybe,
It lies in diversity,
Beyond everything else.
Malaysia, tanah tumpahnya darahku.
Aug 30, 2014
Aug 30, 2014 at 1:27 PM UTC
“Being a farmer is like being a priest;
you take a vow of poverty
and make a pact with the Lord
that no typhoon will come
and destroy your crops.”
In the rise of sedentary human civilization,
The nation’s agriculture
Became the key expansion.
Its history dates back thousands of years,
With its development,
Has been driven and defined –
By different climates, cultures, and technologies.
The Filipino farmers:
Are they now a dying breed?
Numbers of small farms has dwindled,
With workers opting for city life.
But this trend could exacerbate food insecurity!
Yes, in an import-dependent country –
Already struggling to meet current food demand.
In the face of growing losses,
And from volatile weather,
To new-fangled farming tech,
Limited education makes them less receptive.
What took such toll on the agricultural sector?
Maybe the farmer themselves,
The investors, the buyers – maybe.
Now, it’s due to the government policies,
Our programs are good, yet so weak.
There’s excessive reliance on agricultural imports,
And corruption on the upper level.
Compounding the problem
Is a younger generation –
Largely, leaving rural areas nationwide,
And depleting the pool of potential agricultural workers.
They say it’s too late to do something;
But the mind-set of the younger generation
Still we can change
And make farming appealing once again.
(9/8/13 @xirlleelang)
May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 10:02 PM UTC
Narcissist I
Money questions hidden in cultures
Instead of debates, we have the vultures
They will overspend whatever their budget
Destroy years hard work, their odour pungent
Often called users, epiphytes of highest order
Those that cannot earn sufficient to quarter
Or manage their own, so they use others
Spending, unfettered, is their druthers
Cannot accept responsibility for damage
Continue to feast on their host, they ravage
Hollowing out from inside, funds they suction
Weakening the structure for eventual destruction
And weakened, debates then start about savings
Too late, funds gone, too late for the cravings
Absent conversation, leaves a bad situation
Long ago, train of debate left the station
What we have now is death and decay
All caused by silence, as the vultures flay
It will not be long until they seek a new host
Just when their former home needs them most
So leave they will, to claw the next poor victim
Removing their talons of love and devotion
Moving on, leaving behind just carcasses
Warm used bodies, mark of a narcissist
Jan 18, 2015
Jan 18, 2015 at 4:04 PM UTC
*I am an African
My skin is black
My hair is black
I am black
I take pride in my blackness
For my colour is not a badge
Of shame, but an identity,
Yes black is my identify
Africa is my identity
I am the son of the black soil,
A soil rich in history
And blessed with diverse cultures
Each unique in their own way,
I am an African
Africa a nation of the oppressed
But slowly rising to conquer
And claim what is theirs
From the oppressors,
Yes the sleeping sons of Jacob
Are rising, slowly realising
Their potential as nation ,
Yes my fellow Africans are rising
The black nation is on its knees
I'm a proud african,
Africa my roots
Africa my identity
Africa my ancestral land
Africa my home
Africa is who i am
I am African
Copyrights.
Taetso jojo*
Jan 14, 2017
Jan 14, 2017 at 2:48 PM UTC
If I ruled the world, I would be,
Not a benevolent leader, nor,
Would I be a tyrannical leader.
I would be something much unexpected and, hopefully, humble.
You see, I would be a quilt maker. Not of fabric and thread, though.
I would stitch the different cultures together, leaving each individual one unique, yet united by a common thread.
I would sit with my diplomatic needle and peaceful stitching and lead those whom hold contempt for one another see the other's perspective.
I would show them that,
The world isn't in black and white,
It's in full, high-definition color.
So let's celebrate unity,
Equality,
Individuality,
And uniqueness.
Because in the final chapter,
We all already rule the world.
It's up to us to thread ourselves to each other,
Or pull ourselves apart by the seams.
Apr 19, 2016
Apr 19, 2016 at 7:29 PM UTC
Once I undertook a journey,
upon the very face of our entire world.
To view for myself the many pictures,
and written descriptions in all the geography
books and History Classes, National
Geographic magazines and movies seen.
A Quest to see with my own eyes what
I had only experienced second hand.
In my mid twenties, like a dream,
one foot in front of the other,
I went about exploring.
I sniffed and tasted the scents of foreign lands,
Incense, Sage and Frankincense, fish curry,
fried snake and even monkey brains.
Walked in lush Jungle Bush and Desert sands,
Along the shores of Islands and the coasts
of many lands.
Heard the voices of 30 divergent Dialects
and cultures, smiling and laughing with
the families and children of all of them.
Set beside the fires of primitive tribal men,
heard their chants to their gods above, the
moon, stars and the sun, the ocean, the land.
Clapped my hands and moved my feet in
their ancient mystic dances.
Drank their tea, Kava or whatever they shared
grateful for their offered unselfish brotherhood.
Stood on the flanks of the tallest Mountains
in the world, on my toe tips, to try to see the
face of the God of my youthful teachings,
disappointed when I did not see him, or Her.
Found instead an inner tranquility, imparted
to me by Red robbed Monks from within their
chants of Peace and wise earthly enlightenments.
Strolled the cobbled streets of two thousand year
old Cities. Walked among the ruined remnants of
nearly forgotten once great Civilizations.
Explored Modern European Citadels' of wealth and learning.
Over time rode on planes, ships, buses, backs of open trucks,
Horse pulled carts and human drawn rickshaws, taxis, subways,
rented motorcycles and cars. Walked perhaps 1000 miles.
In all a journey of the mind and heart lasting three years.
And why you might ask, "What qualifies you as a pilgrim
of any kind, to travel so far, and wide?"
"What was I looking for, what did I hope to find?"
All indeed, fare questions.
When a boy, I read a simple five word line,
“Seek and thee shall find". Curiosity and
Horizon Lust compelled me.
The next obvious question you might
ask is, after all that; “What did you find?”
That answer is very simple,
I found myself.
Dec 10, 2013
Dec 10, 2013 at 7:14 PM UTC
Set the alarm
Lock the doors
Lock the windows
Lock the shutters
Find the cricket bat – “put it by your bed”
Say goodnight to mom and dad
Although young, not naïve
I knew every night had the possibility of being my last
A routine that is now muscle memory.
Fear –
You may think
But life –
Normal for me.
Wake up
Turn off the alarm
Unlock the doors
Open the windows
Open the shutters
Put the cricket bat in the cupboard
Never being able to be left alone at home. Unwillingly dragged from store to store.
But – that’s the thing –
People don’t know the real Her,
They know the exquisite scenery, the unforgettable wildlife
They don’t know… But I do.
Because She is my home
Because being in constant fear for my life –
is normal.
Confused –
What do I tell people about Mother when they ask?
The person who raised me, taught me how to be grateful, how to ride a bike, how to love.
Do I tell them? Will I scare them?
Although hidden beneath the tyranny – I would say –
the bloodshed
the faces of malnourished children left for dead on the side of the road the poverty struck soil the corruption the greed the hunger the death the separation of class and race
Although a place feared –
Africa.
My Africa –
Whose sunshine you feel ignited in your soul
My Africa –
Whose smile is irresistibly contagious
My Africa –
Whose heart lies in the grassy terrain
The golden dunes of sand
The never-ending mountain tops
My Africa –
Who is the heart of various people
cultures
languages
All who call Her home.
She is –
Where my heart lies even if I am thousands of miles away
Where my mind wanders from day to day.
Her air, instantly calls you
Her smell, instantly smelt
Welcoming you ever so dearly –
Home.
Like all good mothers,
She is the one who can handle both the tranquil and turmoil,
the love and war.
She is my home. She is who I fear of disappointing.
My Africa –
is beautiful.
Jun 21, 2018
Jun 21, 2018 at 8:44 AM UTC
Shamans, in an attempt to find a word that all cultures could understand, to represent, universally, the subject; married the languages by root.
Each attribute or thing that the beast is said to do, have or have power to do or over is found as a definition in a language of the individual roots.
Take Sanskrit for instance. "Dra," is "water and combine it with Sumerian, "Gun, Gon," and you get a "water-born," beast who "writhes, twists or wraps around," which is the Ouroboros Serpent as shown in ancient images.
The secret to all ancient myth or religion is in interpretation of language into foreign languages over time.
And, yes, it is very creative, appears complex due to time but is just humans trying to describe observable nature.
None of it is meant to be taken literally unless you literally live six thousand years ago and speak in an ancient tongue.
Addendum
* Keltic, "Con, Kon," makes the Dragon, "All-knowing." *
And we know from Plato that Greeks
stole their root words from the Celts.
Plato's own words in,
'The Cratylus.'
Feb 9, 2017
Feb 9, 2017 at 5:23 PM UTC
We perpetuate heartbreak culture,
teaching girls the man who holds her loves her despite the bruises,
or it was her fault; she looked older.
We fetishes shoulders,
prize youth from the young in return for pre-chewed gum,
swallowing down the same tired ideals from those who still wield them like flags,
waving their patriotism on poles of bone before a throne of medieval ********
They chant mantras with beer stained breath about how 'our' country 'bested' the rest,
but what about the brutality?
The blood split on foreign soil in return for prehistoric oil?
Our land is deemed pure so long as the violence on our hands never reaches our shores,
but the ocean is red and staining our sands.
How can you have pride in a country who's sole identity is based off having the worlds largest navy?
Congratulations. You bombed your way through countless continents, collecting cultures to gather dust on pedestals and alters
We sin on Sundays, drink till we're ****** then wave at the seven deadly's (they don't apply to us here).
We teach preschoolers nationalism before they can walk,
indoctrinate our children before they can talk.
George killed the dragon.
Hood gave to the poor.
we all jumped on the bandwagon before we realised the princess had no choice and the rich still ruled.
There was no voice in the tale for those whose wail could be ignored.
What about those without lines in the script?
Those kicked to the curb, then kicked from it?
Our pavements have no room for nonconformists,
they're tailored to for same mind, same mindless wanderer,
squandering on the lasted polyesters even though that mouth on the street hasn't eaten in over a week.
'God save the Queen' from the vermin;
the homeless have been tossed out of the trash.
Why help them when you could save your cash by turning a blind?
After all, out of sight, out of mind.
Welcome to England, we hope you like what you find
Because we’re not changing it.
May 22, 2018
May 22, 2018 at 5:02 PM UTC
A Muslim boy with a clock
Is seen as a terrorist with a glock
Maybe i'm right, maybe i'm wrong
But if he were White, Asian, Hispanic or even Pacific Islander
Nobody would of suspected anything.
When are we going to stop fearing an entire race for only a portion radical and illogical ways of treating others?
I don't tolerate people who behead others if they don't agree with their religion
I don't agree with the repressive governments that control everyone and stone them for minor misdemeanors
There are good men out there fighting this evil that has plagued their homelands
I'm all for ending terrorism of all kinds
But let's stop terrorism of innocents too
Sure, i'm afraid of what the radicals will do to their own people, my people and the rest of the world
But i'll be dammed if i treated somebody from the Middle East like a monster when i don't even know who they are
If it wasn't for a Middle Eastern girl
The Syrians girls wouldn't have an improved education
If it wasn't for a Middle Eastern man fending off the Taliban and risking his entire village to keep Marcus Littrell alive
He would of been KIA a long time ago.
What about the ones who fought and died for America?
Nobody ever mentions them
The media wants me to hate them all, but i laugh and shake my head
Warped minds trying to warp others
I only see the ones who want to do us harm, and the ones who want to live peacefully and away from a life of hell
Brothers and sisters, just a different culture and skin color
I'm sorry if America seems racist or hateful, but i'm proud to be the one who throws those two words in the trash
Because i'm not afraid to speak my mind
And i welcome everyone here
America is everyone's home.
If only the Soviet Union never invaded Afghanistan
If only the people were not scared
To be free like America.
Unity for all,
Religious differences and Cultures alike.
I hope one day a Muslim man or Woman can walk down an American street without being labeled as a terrorist.
I hope one day these repressive governments fall into the hands of democracy
And we start the Age of Unity again.
Oct 12, 2015
Oct 12, 2015 at 4:23 PM UTC
Those happy Morris dancers make for a happy sight
They wear bright scarlet ribbons and their shirts and trousers white,
They clash their sticks whilst dancing and you hear the timbers ring
Though 'twould seem that Morris dancing is not a female thing.
I've never seen a female Morris dancer I stand corrected if I'm wrong
It has it's roots in England and to England it belong
And I hope that Morris dancing will not go the way of rhyme
That in a changing World it won't lose out to time.
They brought their culture with them from England far away
A culture perhaps fading like many of the old cultures are today
With the old dances of Europe I see a link somewhere
And sad to hear that Morris dancers are now becoming rare.
At the Dandenong Ranges festival east of Melbourne they perform every year
And after in the ***** tent they laugh as they drink their beer,
They brought a thing of beauty when they brought their dancing here
And to those marvellous Morris dancers let us raise our glass of cheer.
Morris dancing vary from English Village to Village or so I have been told
Though the times they are a changing and fading are the ways of old
But those marvellous Morris dancers may they dance forever more
In the sunshine of Australia far from England's rainy shore.
Aug 10, 2010
Aug 10, 2010 at 6:17 PM UTC
Look in the mirror
Look at the clock
Look at the time
It never has stopped
It only goes forward
It's a one way walk
See how you have been growing
You ask yourself, "where have the days been going?"
Time can only progress
Yes, the river of life is always flowing
We lived cabins
And castles and caves
We came from Adam and eve
We evolved from apes
From Socrates and Homer
To Napoleon and Alexander the Great
The minds that desired knowing
And the enlightened ones glowing
People can only advance
Yes the river of life is always flowing
Revolutions and rebellions
Riots and revolts
Great discoveries
A key, a kite and a lightning bolt
Great writings and inventions
Innovations from inspiring jolts
Improvement was showing
To the future the world was going
Humanity only began to develop
Yes the river of life is always flowing
Religions and sciences
Economics and politics
Television and radio
Monarchies and dictatorships
Tanks and machine guns
Atomic bombs and battle ships
We went from arrow shooting and spear throwing
The muskets needed reloading
To nuclear weapons
Yes the river of life is always flowing
Exploring new lands
To find the world wasn't flat
To find silver and gold
And buried artifacts
To establish new territories
And expand the map
The searching ship kept rowing
As civilization went on growing
Accomplishments of the past
Yes the river of life is always flowing
Boats and rail roads
Fair trade and industry
World wide markets
Over land and sea
To keep out nations going
And stablize the economy
But now every country has money that they're owing
And the land that they're owning
Is has evolved
Yes the river of life is always flowing
Social reforms
Counter cultures fight
They protest strongly
For equal civil rights
The world's in constant change
Every day turns into night
Every opening has its closing
And then it comes back again
As long as there's someone hoping
Yes the river of life is always flowing
We put people into space
We have fought for equality
Created a world from nothing
And advanced technology
We've struggle to go to where we are
And continue to go strongly
The opportunities fate has been bestowing
We look forward to see what is ahead
The memories and mysteries the hourglass is holding
Yes the river of life is always flowing
Apr 23, 2014
Apr 23, 2014 at 2:40 PM UTC
It was the end of the world when Ares met Mars
Supposed to be counterparts, brothers in arms
But on opposing sides they stood
Couldn’t see eye to eye
And instead of stemming the blood
Each took an eye for an eye
Until in time the whole world went blind
The sword attacked and the spear struck back
But that’s what happens when cultures clash
When cultures collide
With anger and hatred it starts to divide
But nobody wins, cos the dead look the same on both sides
It was the mother of all storms when Jupiter met Zeus
There could have been a deuce; could have called a truce
But each wanted more and more
The two as black as thunder
And instead of stopping the war
Each stole the other’s thunder
Until in time the whole world went under
The thunder attacked and the lightning struck back
But that’s what happens when cultures clash
When cultures collide
With anger and hatred it starts to divide
But nobody wins, cos the dead look the same on both sides
The underworld shook when the earth caved in
Pluto and Hades together couldn’t take us all in
We didn’t see when being heartless
In wanting the best of both worlds
That the second of the two would be darkness
And together the weight of the worlds
Would send us crashing down to Tartarus
The rivers overflowed and the fires turned to ash
But that’s what happens when cultures clash
Dec 16, 2016
Dec 16, 2016 at 7:54 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
Welcome to the dawn of a new age
Open up the book turn the page
Let's excel to highest degree
Recognize evolution of humanity
Back on track showing I don't lack
Doing what I do to make you react
Let's take a trip through my mind
Poetry prophecy perfectly combine
Who has the answer?
Let's ask the question
Seems no one is paying attention
To "Money" which is created by man
It separates people
Are you starting to understand
It's a trap set by death it wont stop
Till you breathe your last breath
Hmm that's right...
Not even death is free
Money is the maker of poverty
Overpopulation, segregation a messed up nation
Leads to mass annihilation
Wartime the battles rage on
Is it about hatred?
Or some politician's song?
Time and space
The final frontiers
Bombs explode people run in fear
Annihilation of a species unknown
Aliens from space invade our home
Pledge allegiance to a flag
Whichever may wave whatever they have
Science is it fiction or fact?
Sometimes it's hard to believe all that
Who's gonna do it?
Who has the answer?
Prophets fall but not from cancer
GOD.. Labeled "Almighty One"
Spoke to us on earth through his son
Whether you agree or disagree
Intentions were to save humanity
Who'll stand up?
Who'll be the one?
To bring about change without firing a gun?
Each generation builds off the legacy of the last
Ignorance of history doom us to repeat our past..
Jun 17, 2013
Jun 17, 2013 at 2:47 AM UTC
We are watching your every move in the airports of america
like the stock market every day.
We are telling you that this is the way you should talk about
other cultures because we are the thought police.
We are telling you that we will close your fun establishments early
because we want to change the culture.
Yes folks Big Brother is watching.
We are demanding you buy into the TSA agenda of taking away your privacy at airports.
We are demanding you sacrifice freedom because 9/11 was our way of starting the New World Order
Yes folks big brother is watching your moves.
Nov 27, 2010
Nov 27, 2010 at 2:06 PM UTC
My porcelain skin is no match
For the velvety brown of yours
Your soft chocolate eyes are lovelier
While my greens are merely cold
And I should know better than to refuse
To wipe my face on the floor
I should be more of a lady (or a nun)
If I'm to be all you're asking for
You reference the way I was raised
A single mother and an only daughter
And you're sure that I will lead astray
Your potential grandsons and granddaughters
Know that your son is all
The good you exclaim him to be
But he sees the light in these witch's eyes
Where you see death and greed
I now understand that I will never
Be righteous enough in your sight
And it is because of your background
That you accuse and criticize
You will always be his mother
Who cares for him nonetheless
But I will stay his lover
Even while I don't pass your test
Apr 28, 2015
Apr 28, 2015 at 1:20 AM UTC
Wake Up Wretched World,
I assert my Indigenous heritage
I self identify
With the ancestors of my continent
Identity afraid to articulate
Culture, unknowingly belonging to me
Cycle of shame now shattered
Product of love, hatred, lust, and desire
europeans plundering my mother Latin America
In chaos and violence, my skin's pigment
Has been engineered through the mestizaje
Of my Indigenous forefathers
How could I not forget my lineage
When the historical legacy of modernization
Has been to massacre the consciousness
Of where my people really come from
Erasing indigenous pride
Making Paisano and Indio
Synonymous with poverty and alienation
Insulting the humbleness
State of hunger you've left us in
Original lineage within me disturbed
So you push me to ambiguity and embarrassment
Not white, not indigenous?
Pure indigenous brothers and sisters silenced
Not an exploitable consumerist market, not in your campaigns
Not benefactors of your philanthropic development tactics
Bodies too costly to abuse, no reason to bring them
Into the neoliberal multinational corporate circuit
Constantly driving them off productive land
Because they choose to assert their identity
Live in collective communes, not owing you nothing
Waiting for them to make barren lands productive
So you can take those lands too
Not capturing an obscure history, these are not colonial times
This is the legacy of the european presence entering mother Latin America
21st century still defiling Indigenous cultures to civilize and modernize
Mar 14, 2013
Mar 14, 2013 at 10:26 PM UTC
I am told,
You think I am too old,
I am more precious than gold.
If you listen to me,
I will take you to a wonderful world;
I'm supposed to be oral,
speaking
of
myths,
legends,
fantasy,
and the supernatural.
When you listen to me,
Then you'll know,
How I become young,
How I live so long.
I am who I am.
Everyone knows me
and
all
the children love me.
I am not a lie,
In me you can find the truth,
That roots
you
To
Your Past
and
To
The Orgin
Because,
It's me, the oxygen,
That
Cultures breath,
And
The nitrogen,
With which THEY fly
Deep
In a blue sea,
Like a White Dove,
Like a Magical Butterfly,
And
With which They dive
High
in a Blue Sky
Like an Incredible fish,
Like a Blue Whale,
in a Fairytale.
I have no specific author,
You can be my author.
I have no specific time,
For all times are mine.
I had lived in your Heart
An Art.
I had had only listeners
Until I was put in a Book.
I was Invisible,
But
Now you can see me if you look,
Or
GUESS what?
I am Unseen,
Though you think that's me on that screen.
That's not me,
For I have always been...
A Mystery,
That speaks
Of
Happiness
And
Misery,
Of
Kindness
And
Treachery,
Of
Poverty
And
Luxury,
Of
Honesty
And
Trickery,
Of
Freedom
And
Slavery,
So
please,
Hurry
And
Listen to me,
Before you go to any cinema or library.
For I am
The oldest Teacher
And
The honest Preacher.
I think you know me well now,
So ask Grandma how?
When you wish to MEET me.
I can be for you a guide
And take you to another side,
I can make your world wide.
If you follow me, Child!
I can take you to the Woods,
I can take you to the wild.
In which
Animals
Talk
And
Trees
Walk.
And
In which
A Witch
Has
Hooves ,
And
An Ant
Wears
Gloves,
And
In Which
A Wolf
Sings,
And
A Horse
Has
Wings,
And
In Which
A kingdom,
And
Many other Bewitching Gems
Of
Wisdom.
May 13, 2014
May 13, 2014 at 10:48 PM UTC
✿⊰✲⊱✿
The air filled with laughter and cheers, leaving me
and Ainhara on the hill
"Oh dear," my handmaid smiles. "It appears it will be a long night.
Parting Paul from our sweet Esshi will prove difficult."
"Difficult but not impossible," I chime. "Come, Ainhara,
let us enjoy the rest of the night!"
'My wish came true tonight,' I beam.
'I will always remember this fantastic gala...' as I enter
the main dining hall with all my friends from near and far,
all my friends of many cultures as we join in laughter, in
glee, ever hopeful for the future of our thriving Kingdoms.
With every sip of wine, every nibble of the fine
dishes, all of our bonds have strengthened.
So now, let us be like the lanterns,
and rises together, sailing through the horizons
to touch the Heavens above.
Eager for the adventures ahead...
Aug 28, 2018
Aug 28, 2018 at 6:50 PM UTC
As I go to sleep
Dreams come knocking
My subconscious mind
In a rendezvous with me
Am I asleep?
The REM phase kicks in
What do I want to view?
I do not have a choice
I am just a spectator
For another movie
Do I know the cast or crew?
Is it a blockbuster or horror movie?
The conclusion is inconclusive
I may not be a protagonist
Maybe a figment of my imagination
Or, a vivid description of my days events
It requires psychoanalysis
My subconscious mind is in control
Why can’t I have control?
It’s not within my control
I am asleep and my mind is awake
Freud wrote extensively about it-
In the ‘Interpretation of Dreams’
But still, outside our realm of understanding
The symbols and motifs can give clue
Ancient cultures have recorded on clay tablets
But we may not be ever sure
Or maybe the soul is guided somewhere
Or it could be our inner desires
Maybe it’s an unknown world
Where we go out to venture
Let there be beautiful dreams
And dreams that inspire
Sep 25, 2014
Sep 25, 2014 at 10:46 AM UTC
A tug of war
It is the past experience and what was saw and felt
A word in keeping a person in line
A restriction of one’s thoughts and actions
A procedure in holding one back
******* being a form beyond one’s accord
Thank God there is a Lord
There is a chance to survive
More than a thought being a strive
I dream but all I see is a nightmare
I see effort, but when will there be preserver?
Its like a road block with detour
A method of turn back
I feel as if I am trapped in bonds
Maybe I am still sleep and need to wake up from my yond
Perhaps it’s nothing more than a dream
It’s my thinking I am in a movie stream
But its truly tough being rough
A different slavery oppression of the past with a theory of the present
A overseer continuing in present oppression
A silenced voice having no expression
The downward bound with no mountain reach
It’s time for a rebellion approach
Oppression is real and not a joke
It’s like an open wound with having a stinging poke
Oppression is alive and attempting to do well
Yet the world has a message in tell
‘OPPRESS AND OVERCOME, ITS ABOUT NO MOVEMENT AND BEING NUMB. IT TAKES MULTITUDES IN SUPPLYING THE STRENGTH, BUT ALL MUST GO THE MILES NO MATTER WHAT THE LENGTH”
Survival is how you chose to live
Its not a verb but is subjective
The voice must always be objective
Oppression cannot continue in terms in having its way
The sunrise has risen and it’s a tomorrow being a new day
These are the times to move forward and be strong
It’s a matter of all personalities of creeds in knowing how to get along
So shake whatever chains you feel you have on
Stand up and be counted where you belong
Don’t let any form of oppression hold you back
You have grasped the concept of understanding in the theory of thinking sharp being the detailed tack
Just give oppression one big smack
Listen America it’s the various cultures that stack
Oppression stand back as you have been defeated being a pack.
Jan 23, 2016
Jan 23, 2016 at 5:18 PM UTC
Because the thirst wouldn’t simmer; it ruptured cities into boils,
turned cultures into armies, an armageddon of cheeky stubborn Irish Catholics and thick veined Germans couldn’t imagine a world without their stout hearty headed pint.
Because white dry protestant angels thought crime existed in a vacuum, in a filthy saw-dusted saloon, the hub spawn of evil.
Because twice as many of those saloons were ******* by unlicensed blind pigs, not through free swinging doors on the streets, but in the domestic sphere; in the dark crept crevices of household sanctuaries.
Because bootlegging capitalist princes turned the industry into a stenchy liability with their home brewed distilled poisons. Alky cookers wrapped the commodity fetish and dubbed it moonshine.
Moonshine – spirits for the poor and blind.
Because this social reform was a moral reform lost in the oblivion of politics, lost in the timeliness of progressive spring-cleaning referenda’s.
Because the ragged, toothless class had to be scold, striped clean of their traditional barings,
because wisdom is everything and they’re spirits ran vilely wild.
Sep 26, 2010
Sep 26, 2010 at 6:57 AM UTC