"dehumanized" poems
Feminism is not a bad word
It is more than four words
If you are a woman if you are a man
If you believe that gender equality
Is important, if you stand by your mother
When she shouts, “I am equal!”
Then you are a feminist.
And I’m tired, I’m tired and I’m frustrated
That the patriarchal society we live in
Would rather demonize equality
Rather than let it stand tall as the statue
It deserves to be.
All it means
Is you believe that women and men are equal
That they deserve to be treated both fairly and just
And I trust-
That the only image of a feminist in your mind
Is one that hates men, that burns bras, that simply get in the way.
And sure there might be a few of those, yes
But I would like to ask you
Since when did one represent the whole?
Since when were all white Christian men
Devalued, dehumanized because of Jeffery Dahmer?
If I were to follow your logic
If we were all to follow your logic
We’d have to lock up every single one of you
All because a few of your fellow men
Perverted an ideal that at the heart of it was good
And please be good
To your feminists please know that it is not a movement
To strip people of rights but to grant rights to those who have been denied
Feminism isn’t a bad word
It’s a word that holds an ideal
That genetics that genitalia do not dictate
Whether or not a human being is held to the
American standard of equality.
Jan 24, 2014
Jan 24, 2014 at 11:51 PM UTC
Could he not see myself sinking into despair after ever word he spoke
Could he not see the tears streaming down my face as I began to choke
He criticized and dehumanized me
His loose lips were never sweet
Why couldn't it be...
My face got pale and hands got weak
I could feel my body dropping to me knees
And as he continued to reveal his wicked hate
I feel my soul beginning to deteriorate...
May 12, 2014
May 12, 2014 at 10:59 AM UTC
12/30/2013
I Met the **** Hater
Have you ever seen someone so beautiful
that you felt like crying?
Have you ever felt so utterly Disgusted by someone
that you wished they were dying?
Do you think I feel gay guts and gayness in my genes?
Or did society manufacture me - one of their gay liberal machines.
I'm not sure which is better,
Either way you'll make me a martyr.
But I'll be your Hester Prynne baby
with my Big Gay Letter.
I cannot erase
that look on his face.
when he told me **** **** Go Away.
I'll punch you in the face just for being Gay.
A separation of message and mind.
Hateful judgment is not hard to find.
When I stand in the shower,
or sit down on a park bench,
I'm a **** to him clear as gay.
It's like he thinks I ate some magic flower.
My girlfriends don't fare much better - to him called a bar *****
This guy is the part of society that makes being gay scary to say.
He thinks Gays making out in public can't be allowed.
He thinks Legalized gay marriages should be disavowed.
He thinks Animal *** ********** and ****** are because of gays.
He thinks Gay **** between two women might be more okay.
He thinks *** should **** more gay people.
He thinks Criminalizing ****** would make things more equal.
He thinks Adam's choice of Eve or Steve is all that matters.
He doesn't care about myself, or your heart's fragile rathers.
This man is the **** Hater.
Not a rare breed at all.
He could be your waiter,
or your teacher,
maybe even your sales assistant at the mall.
I Met the **** Hater,
while I made out with a guy at the bar.
The **** Hater was kinda old, yet strong and tall.
But I didn't fall
down.
or become dehumanized.
When I caught a glimpse of his face
and saw that utter look of Disgust
that I just cannot erase.
I saw it in his face - the **** Hater's
'Homo Hate.'
Dec 30, 2013
Dec 30, 2013 at 6:58 PM UTC
Drifting over the air
I looked below, the world minimised
Far away sea and land, all dehumanized
The air felt different
Having left but not arrived
Having fallen but not been lifted
Up
I considered where I had been
The things I wish I had not seen
The things I wish I had done
And I knew I must wait
Until I passed through the gate
To new skies and a new sun
Aug 11, 2014
Aug 11, 2014 at 8:10 PM UTC
Beauty pageant queen
Had a sad, sad life
All her mother wanted
Was to live vicariously
Through a beautiful daughter
All her daughter wanted
Was a mother who loved her for who she was
And didn't care that she was lesbian
But her mother beat her until she submitted
Her will and her life
With words and insults
Thrown as spears into the heart of the innocent child
The beauty pageant queen walked the steps confidently
Ready to reap the greatest reward she had never known:
Freedom
And as her mother read the note
And as her feet swung inches from her mother's grieving head
And as the coroner's men came and took her away
And as the nation was thrown into an uproar over a woman they never knew
And as the people in the streets pointed fingers and called the queen a *****
And as her father heard the news in his second house with his new wife
And as the homeless man she was kind to on the corner took his grubby hat off in mourning
And as the press went wild and blew everything out of proportion and dehumanized her pain
The queen didn't care because she was free from the world
Because she was away from the pain
Because she was exposed for what she was
Because she was dead
And she didn't much care about anything
Not anymore
Sep 22, 2013
Sep 22, 2013 at 11:41 PM UTC
he’s addicted to the high
from egotistical joy rides. he revels
in self pride, arrogance apparent in
his stride. but his confident exterior
is built from narcissistic lies. he can’t handle
hearing “no”- rejection leaves him mortified.
this is not the first time
he's come to me cock-eyed.
he asks for my consent, politely i deny.
he refuses to listen, preparing to defy.
my fear becomes palpable-
his desire
fortifies.
“no, no, no!” yet his hands
are on my thighs. “we have to tonight.”
his words cut like a knife.
i don’t understand why
i’m forced to comply. (this is my body,
don’t i get to decide?)
my bones calcify, my heart’s
a ship that’s capsized
i’ve been dehumanized and
yet i'm forced to act alive.
i look in the mirror
and let out a long sigh-
is it his soul or mine
that’s been demonized?
Oct 16, 2017
Oct 16, 2017 at 12:06 PM UTC
The shoes of a dead man
For you to walk
And his blade
For you to ****
Every page vanished
And every memory
But not the paper upon which it was written
And the dust
Under which it was hidden
Traces of direction
Windblown
A new future
Waiting for ripples to die
To see the reflection
And the form
That must be overcome
In the eyes of others
To determine need
Though not enough
In the eyes of others
To speak
Or live in silence
To write
Or to think
For who would listen
Or learn
From a man wearing a dead man’s shoes?
Because they are not wearing them
Only you
The blasphemy of discarding his past
But saving his presence
Is only for you to know
The willful generation
The one that learns from the past
But lives for the future
While others
Ignore the past
And die before they say amen
But not the man walking in a dead man’s shoes
Inside a book
Inside another book
Choosing the prophecy
That fits his needs
But not the worlds
Because they wouldn’t understand
Even if it was written in their language
Nobody can understand
Except the man walking in a dead man’s shoes
He knows death
And every word is life
So he reads
And prays
And does not bring who he is
Because he is not the book
He is only the man walking in a dead man’s shoes
He cannot hear anything
Or see color
Only the desperation that fills the void
Between men
And their confusion
That he is unafraid
And able to walk between people
Without explanation
Or justification
Because they wouldn’t understand
Nobody can understand
Except the man walking in a dead man’s shoes
So don’t ask
Don’t ask
You do not know how to ask
Or what to do with wisdom
They are just words
Words that amaze you
But cannot change you
Because to you they are words
To him they only describe
An approximation
A sketch
Of smoke
From a fire
That you cannot see
Or feel
Not like him
Because you are not a man wearing a dead man’s shoes
It is much worse than you think
Because you won’t confront it
You are insensitive
Dehumanized
The only ones worth living must believe as you do
Thoughts are life to you
Certain thoughts
Thoughts that may be right or may be wrong
Thoughts that cannot be described by one man the same as another
But thoughts that he will not speak
Because he is walking in a dead man’s shoes
Without the blade
For he does not come to you by the sword
For separation is only by choice
His alone
Without bloodshed
Without the desire of what you have
For he is not a thief
He will live without it
He will never take it
For his interest is not in what you have
But in what he can earn
And what is provided
As it is given by the world
As it is described
In the prophecy
That best fits his needs
Because he is a man walking in a dead man’s shoes
Jan 31, 2015
Jan 31, 2015 at 3:54 PM UTC
Shapes, colors, sounds
Unintelligible, thoughtless expression
Thrown carelessly into my perception
Cast aside all feeling, love
As you are shepherded into policy
Trapped in a cage of conformity
We become what we're molded to be
Body and mind, desensitized
Body and mind, dehumanized
The workplace has become a temple to the mind
A monument to substance; tear it down
Our existence is blind, meaningless at best
This planet is a wasteland; tear it down
Dehumanize yourself and face to bloodshed
Dec 23, 2013
Dec 23, 2013 at 9:56 PM UTC
and this
I suppose,
is the life I'm living;
bundled up,
walking through the snow
with a hundred and two fever.
handling money
all day,
more and more and more money:
never enough.
taking money from those with too much,
giving it in turn to those with disgustingly too much.
alienated, dehumanized,
I work for those who think of me as a number. 60 hours a week,
I sweat and sweat,
selling a product I could never afford.
alienated and dehumanized;
I toil.
there is no pride.
my eyes: they no longer sparkle.
there is no pride,
there is no relationship with my product.
there is no pride in barely affording rent.
there is no pride in not being able to visit the health clinic.
there is no pride in being exploited.
go ahead, vamanos comradita,
speak out against, you know the worst they can do.
add a black mark next to your name,
call you:
radical,
dissident,
extremist,
in a word: othering
you are othered because you wish to eat the fruits of your toil.
you are othered because you're a human, you're not a number,
you're not a spot to be filled when scheduling, you're more than the recipient of corporate pay checks.
toil, toil comraditas,
there will one day be pride
Jan 4, 2017
Jan 4, 2017 at 1:25 PM UTC
your filthy hands
gripped on my jaw,
your grimy fingers
forcing my mouth open
treated like a dog who won't let go of a shoe
defiled
ruined
dehumanized
Mar 11, 2020
Mar 11, 2020 at 12:53 PM UTC
Assaulted once again,
Betrayed by the ones she loved,
Consumed with utter sadness,
Dehumanized in every way.
Embarrassed by what they made her do,
Fearful that there's more to come,
Heartbroken and humiliated,
Inadequate in all she does.
****** around with such great force,
Kept quiet with threats of death,
Laughed at as she cries in pain,
Mistreated and manipulated
One broken heart left on display.
Pain they left within their wake,
Robbed of all her happiness,
Scared to trust again.
Trapped within their shadow,
Uncertain of my fate,
Victimized for the final time,
Worthless mindset overcome.
X'd out all the lies you told me,
Yearning for all that I deserve,
Zeroed out of my heart forever, as I take my final stand and finally leave today.
Nov 16, 2012
Nov 16, 2012 at 12:39 AM UTC
This modern world is just too much for me
Everywhere I look it's:
Fight or flight;
**** and flee
Pure and honest talent dehumanized by
Technology
Black and white;
Opressed and free
True and genuine love faked and flaunted and
Forgotten
Kiss and tell;
**** and flee
This modern world is just too much for me
Apr 10, 2012
Apr 10, 2012 at 10:07 PM UTC
At the patio i sat
gazing at the blazing blackness
of inevitable strokes of
a glorified paint brush!
Entangled by the utmost masochism
my muscles rustled with ignorance
as the sky rumbled like a **** ghost
trying to tune the infernal chaos
that got demoralized and dehumanized
in the silence of darkness
that devastated the darkness of silence!
Steams of intolerable poignancy
curled around
like ignited demons
trying to tantalize my fears!
Trying to materialize the scene
the storm flashed in rage
ravishing the darkness
dazzled the impatience of night
as it rained in my heart
whose fragrance
lured my innocence.
Jul 11, 2010
Jul 11, 2010 at 4:01 AM UTC
Before last night, I'd only seen the forbidden-fruit curves and
ripples
rendering my skin unbeautiful.
But in the fluorescent indifference of a drugstore
I caught sight of my legs through eyes not my own,
new tapers and bulges swathed in black spandex
even too flimsy for the $15 price tag,
and wondered why words like "small" and "gap"
were heaven to my ears,
while "quadriceps" and "endurance"
have their own quaint ring,
a lovely taste on the tip of a tongue
which has spent too much time
wallowing in self-hatred.
Strength isn't a virtue in women,
we who learn from birth to take up
as little space as possible.
Our shapes always need shaping,
guiding,
sometimes our own voices telling ourselves
we deserve the pain of fatigue
after one mile too long spent running
up the avenue,
forcing ourselves to faint
for a glimpse of thinner thighs,
we deserve to be dehumanized
if we don't inch our way into
the body laid out for us by
Mother Society.
Where is the place for the girl who
hobbles home, skin bruised purple
but flushed with the accomplishment of stopping
every single shot in practice?
Or for the boy whose gentle hands provide
the perfect perch for a butterfly to land upon?
My strength is not an imperfection.
There is beauty in it, and discipline.
These legs can take me for miles if I
take off the iron vest that keeps me
anchored to a Hollywood version
of myself.
Without it, I can fly.
Aug 15, 2013
Aug 15, 2013 at 8:33 PM UTC
Why am I still ************ to you?
I hate that you're beautiful.
that I'm too weak to delete this picture.
That the most intimate thing left of you
is your body.
After four years of living out every fantasy.
A home,
baby,
making dinner,
fighting,
making up,
waking up next to you.
All i'm left with
is this carnal desire to possess you again
like you used to belong to me.
And isn't that the worst thing.
Isn't that the whole reason I left in the first place.
Because we both knew that nobody belongs to anyone.
Yet after all my grieving
All my lovers between now and then.
This is the memory I cherrish most.
This last chance to steal you.
When we were already breaking We thought it might save us.
How foolish we were.
See in the picture you can tell we were breaking.
Your eyes begging to forget.
Just like I beg to forget you.
The first time I saw you walk into a room
I deleted all the naked photographs of my ex lover in that instant.
Just in case you checked.
Just in case I flirted with you.
No girl has earned that same memory.
It belongs to you.
See, memories you can claim.
But not people.
The time you refused to accept
blankets between us and the cold ground
of our tent would keep us warmer
than piling them all on top of us.
That we can keep.
That mistake belongs to us.
The night we took this photograph.
The curvature of your hips.
Your arms hung dead like the maronette strings snapped that day.
That's a memory That i've captured.
See, even though you're gone and I don't have you.
I have this picture.
Why is it that i can go every day of my life loving people for who they are.
Seeing their dreams and past lives.
But with you
Blood.
I see this carnal need to devour you
like some delicacy.
Some favorite dish.
I hate that you're still beautiful.
I hate that you turn me into this monster.
One who sees girl as flesh not human.
Bones as shield not structure.
And it's only you.
This one thing i hate.
Who I need to ****
Who I need to possess again.
I'm so glad I left you.
Glad I killed the monster.
But I can't delete this picture.
Every lonely night That I would cry alone and miss you, I don't.
I crave you instead.
Claw into your flesh
pull out a still regretably beating heart.
I feed it to this beast.
That demands you dehumanized.
pray I never see you in real life again.
fear that may be the last day I'm human.
Mar 6, 2016
Mar 6, 2016 at 12:17 AM UTC
You didn't mean it,
You didn't mean the pain,
The agony caused by your actions.
You didn't mean it,
You didn't mean to hurt her.
You bullied and dehumanized,
Turned her...
Turned her into you,
A MONSTER!
She wept and cried,
You tortured and cursed.
You didn't mean it,
You didn't mean to hurt him.
You seduced and flirted,
Turned him into a lovesick fool.
He chased and romanced,
You left him heartbroken.
In the end,
Was anything true?
Were the sweet words,
Uttered by you lips,
True or false?
Tell me I got it wrong,
You did not mean to hurt,
You didn't mean to abuse,
You didn't mean to curse.
Tell me I got it wrong.
TELL ME, IT'S NOT TRUE!
Mar 1, 2018
Mar 1, 2018 at 5:52 PM UTC
what gives you the right to tell me who i am?
who gave you the right to try and hold my hand?
do you want to be dehumanized;
dissected and put on display?
when i tell you the truth, you can't even muster the courage to say
that i am a human being with respect, but none from you.
my heart beats with the intelligence that yours lacks
i can't believe you've convinced so many people of your love for respect and justice and loyalty and
darling, if no one notices your hatred does that mean it's still there?
my hair blows in the wind that you've created
in the world where i don't matter.
and in the cardboard box that is life
you are the box and i am the tape because
most times i'm not appreciated until i am gone.
if a tree falls in the woods, does that mean it makes a sound?
dear god, i can't believe the mess that i've found.
you put us in the corner and said "don't you dare make a sound."
my heart is racing, deep breaths while it pounds.
you hurt until you're gone
but oops, no one cares.
it's hard to win the fight when they want you to be lighter than air.
Sep 2, 2013
Sep 2, 2013 at 3:06 PM UTC
We thought we’d declared it dead
The words we bury in the soil of time
Eroded by broken silences
In the most unexpected of times
The words that stung my tongue seem to flow numbly
Desensitized and dehumanized,
We wrap ourselves within a world of plastic
Where the external disturbances are kept at bay
Where no one may tap on the window and see within the soul
If we seethe in the residue of our animosity
We’re as good as snarling animals quarreling for the final prize
Before we draw the line between harm and benefit
We must draw the line between man and beast
Jun 15, 2010
Jun 15, 2010 at 9:46 AM UTC
I'm finding myself with writers block because all I seem to find inspiration in is the color of my skin
Or being black to be exact
Or what it's like to be young and African American and in this great country
I become frustrated that this is what I write about it
this is what I feel the need to speak on
that this is what my soul is finding refuge to release
Sometimes I think I'm getting repetitive but I'm realizing if young unjust black deaths didn't happen so often maybe I wouldn't have to write about them
maybe if my young unarmed black brothers weren't murdered in vain
maybe if I heard black praise more than blacks blazed
maybe if less mothers didn't have to to bury their sons
Then and only maybe then would I be able to write about something different, maybe then would I sleep at night, but probably not
Because whether racism is forward or passive it's still closer than you think
the amount of melanin in my skin is slim but it still runs deep
and because I'm mixed people like to think I'm being over dramatic or I'm making it up because
"I'm only half black so why would I get any back lash"
but it's not about that
full or half
To white people I'm still black
And to some people it's alarming that I have a dad
Yellow or brown
African blood still runs through my veins, I feel my queens weep
when the white girl in the suburban locks her doors when I cross the street
when black men say they would never date a black woman because she is loud and indiscreet
when four black boys in a Cobalt going the speed limit are pulled over and policed
one time I overheard someone say "it's time to get over slavery I mean I would own one too for what it's worth"
This **** is the reason why I lose sleep
like every night this week
sometimes I feel my queens' tears down my cheek
she screams
as she is being penetrated by the patrol as her husband and children see
"just so you know whose in charge" he whispers as she weeps
and we should "get over it"
whipped and ***** beaten and dehumanized
3 centuries and they act like it was 3 days
And they like to say that so much has changed
just because we're not in chains
Yet we're restricted or ridiculed politically, socially and economically
we are
Emmet Till still
On our road to progression
A brown president and we are still considered an infection
We are still the threat
And they have disregarded their debt
This is the blissful ignorance I live with
And the growing terror my words attempt to change
Jul 2, 2014
Jul 2, 2014 at 4:27 AM UTC
BOO!
I’m sorry was that —
BOO!
OH pardon m—
BOO!
I’m sorry did I scare you?
but how …?
I simply walked into the room
I’m sorry, we’ve only made eye contact
and you're scared?
scared of what?
I’m not a phantom…
I’m not a spirit…
I’m not a gh —
wait… I get it
I see whats happening here
I’m black… i scared you because I'm black
you're scared of my skin color
you're scared of me so you clutch your bag as i walk by
you cross the street so you don't have to walk by me
you avoid eye contact
you kidnapped my people from our country and enslaved them
you kept us as property
you were scared of us so you made sure we stayed inferior
you instated segregation when you thought we would be free
when you thought we would come out on top you made sure we weren't equal
you made sure the black race was dehumanized
you made sure we couldn't get equal education
you made sure we couldn't drink from the same water fountains
you made sure the people who spoke out were executed
you made sure no matter what
my people were in constant fear for their lives…
no I am neither a ghost nor a ghoul
Im black
BOO!
i scared you because I'm black
Oct 11, 2018
Oct 11, 2018 at 11:52 AM UTC
dear fast food companies,
there is no way to forgive
how you hold animals so captive
dollar signs in your eyes
no remorse for animal cries
and the way you changed us too
because when we eat your food
we know what's inside
we know what's on our plate used to have two eyes
we turn our head
they can be dead
there's no fuss
after all, they're not us
but that's where you're not right
when we were kids, we would put up a fight
if we heard that farm animals were eating drugs and couldn't have fresh air
we used to care
but then we were dehumanized
we'd prefer to hear the lies
we even give a cheer
when we hear
two animal lives for a dollar seventy five
it's sad there's no way to stop it
3,712,415 people won't quit
their nice quiet jobs
just because some tree hugging slobs
remind you animals are dying
dear fast food companies,
don't take my money, i want change
Nov 8, 2015
Nov 8, 2015 at 11:40 PM UTC