"devalued" 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
Some voted for freedom from that rusty EU shackle.
Discussed immigration issues they were unable to tackle.
An establishmentarian North, South divide. When poverty strikes there's nowhere to hide.
Deep trenched anger rising from the disenfranchised vote. The pound devalued as the right wing gloat.
Uncertain times causes a global ripple. Bank of England acts to avoid economic *******
But what of our neighbours? Our brothers in arms? Democratic victors, do they know who this harms?
Young against old, divisions laid bare. Political wrangling, do they really care?
The Prime Minister resigns and a new chapter to be written.
Democracy wins in a diverse, Great Britain.
Jun 29, 2016
Jun 29, 2016 at 4:00 AM UTC
when i was younger, this boy used to tease me about my skin color;
how much it resembles coal,
and how it makes me look like an Aeta,
and how they can't see me in the dark,
but even before that i was insecure.
because when people bothered to look at me,
they'd only see ebony
and to them it was synonymous with ugly and *****
but i don't blame them.
they're just caught in the current of colonialism
when we measured one’s status through the hue of their skin
and we followed.
we followed their discrimination of the ones whose skin didn't look like the exact duplicate of ivory and marshmallow.
we followed their system of supremacy of putting the lighter ones up in the stars to match whiteness with brightness.
we followed their standards of beauty which just happened to be the exact ******* opposite of our majority.
now our country is driven mad
by the idea of whitening your skin
until your heritage is nowhere to be seen;
it has been scrubbed off by papaya soap,
masked by glutathione
and devalued by insults.
but hey,
who cares about heritage if you look like that European actress?
who cares about culture when you could pass off as an American?
who cares about natural brown when synthetic white wears the crown?
Mar 5, 2017
Mar 5, 2017 at 9:06 AM UTC
Mind,
stabbing at trauma,
so digusting.
But escape,
recognise the trauma of
the earth.
Given such devalued matter
to feed on
its whole existence,
yet
it always makes
something beautiful.
Blooming flowers,
lofty trees,
stormy mountains,
seven seas.
All the beauty in the world
created by
unappreciated benefactors.
Maybe
the repulsing brutes
that taunt me so
will grow into
something beautiful.
Aug 30, 2012
Aug 30, 2012 at 3:27 AM UTC
Hashtag:weirddreams
In a dream I looked upon a world like this;
The future was here. It was today. It was now and
the wings on birds had malted, and
the atmosphere was spent.
Spent, because currency had proven
worthless.
Hashtag:firstworldprobs
(piles
on top of
piles of washingtonsjeffersonsandgrants now sat
stagnant, Hashtag:getmoney
devalued over time by the American glutton who had paved our roads with imported plastic,
cheap polymers to build empires quickly, since we were so young with so little history so little culture and so little ritual. Hashtag:omgsoboring.
We played catch-up
by simply investing very little effort,
and paying very little respect,
With expectations of getting really *******
Big). Hashtag:sorrynotsorry
Which didn’t end up working. Hashtag:whoops
And so then we just burned up all that money, quite literally, ignited by the last few drops of oil we could manage to squeeze from Earth’s stones.
And its smoke, smelling faintly of our forefathers’ intentions, turned the turbines for our televisions and deep fryers while we sat and felt ourselves getting smaller and smaller.
Then I woke up, and realized it was only a dream.
Hashtag:
Dec 2, 2012
Dec 2, 2012 at 12:13 PM UTC
Words expressed to the one I love
Selectively picked just for you
To show I am here
Now
Tomorrow
For all time
Placed together and presented to you
With an understanding of your past pain
To give comfort
Belief
Healing
For love
Letting you know, no matter what
To the extent you determine
At the parameters you define
I am yours
At your command
No limits
These were not just words to me
I thought you knew that
I thought you could see
My heart
In your hands
No protection
But to my shock and dismay
No sooner did I give the words to you
Did you turn and give them away
Wow
****
How can this be
You say there was a different context
And I just don't understand
When you said the words to her
They didn't mean the same
Really
Huh
For real
"In Any Capacity"....hmmmm
The meaning seems quite plain
If there is another definition
I wish you would explain
In
Any
Capacity
Regardless what the reason
This is what I assume
You had to give the words away
Because you hurt too much to consume
Them
What they meant
That they were for you
If you knew that you were worthy
If you knew what their meaning could bestow
You wouldn't have thrown away these words
For someone you barely know
Devalued
Defiled
That which you feared
© Tina Thompson
Feb 21, 2012
Feb 21, 2012 at 12:33 AM UTC
It seems to me that those who are most passionately opposed
to the currents of power
are those who are actually the most optimistic
about humanity.
For it is those who believe
that we deserve better.
It is those who believe that we are actually
better than we treat ourselves.
It is those who believe that we have the power
to empower ourselves and
the self-control
to be in control of our selves.
When we live in a society where the deeply optimistic
are targeted as terrorists
and their souls are devalued
with bullets and their bodies cut up
by tabloids pretending to be churches,
we can not be drugged into nihilism.
Instead we must drag ourselves out of this trench
and feel the slugs pierce our skin
and go through and through us
and exit into our dreams, leaving a hole for our dreams to bleed
into this world.
And when we run out of blood we can rot
into our own imagination.
And we will dissolve and our bodies
will become the Earth.
And the Earth will become balanced.
And the Earth will spiral back around
into a bionetic noosphere.
Because, honestly, I think the Earth is sick
of having a split personality
and we are here to bring you sanity.
May 1, 2013
May 1, 2013 at 1:00 AM UTC
I
Aspiring to reach the solar rabbit hole eclipse
--climbing up the well,
the photon test tube
sodden and crusted on the outside
by angsty
adults
snorting obsession
through The Manhattan Project straw.
The pirate boy wanted to be named
Skip--so determined Alice named him,
Skippy, conqueror of blueberry mucus
--he reminded her of sidewalks
she found far in the misty woods
--no one walked
the unexpected like him.
Each placement of a pore: a bat cave
a depressed skull
a hollow exploit
a lame *** joke
a mildew plop
Almost certainly this cadaver matryoshka doll
would be human by the time
the two runaways
were born again Hallelujah! The dish breaker is crowning again
back to the galleons, rotting awkward candles.
"Leave what is human in
inhumane
places." the well speaks.
Skippy tears the corners of his lips
to his ears. Alice turns her temple to the sharpest part
of the monumental
test tube
and cracks her childhood back to the bottom
--back to Euphoria. light poles open
up faces and throw their lights to the ground.
Both of the thrift store
lovers continue to climb--ripping off purchases
to the beggar's tin cup.
II
Severed hearts beat without metaphor
as the empty vessels that hold them.
Spines sing of freedom like centipedes
facing fan blades. Pirate boys mock the smoker's language
of mutiny.
Devalued skin,
dirty armor
casted,
lowered,
teased, by the cadence
of tumbling blood. Marking territories other brother's can smell
Obediently, we see what
gods are doing to them. They're paying
for drawing the different suits of God
on the cave wall. Hit jobs--vacuum spoils,
sucker punch postage stamps
--revenge from a peaceful creator
forcing the two to climb/climb/climb
back to a speck
where dandelions grow
from the revolution fetus and graphite,
& tongues, & lips, & nerves, & veins &
wolf spiders pour down/red matter clusterfucks.
Mar 5, 2013
Mar 5, 2013 at 12:10 PM UTC
Primative man, pre written word had it easy,
When it came to wooing a woman,
It was as easy as
Lugging a 150 lb log
A few miles,
Fending off a pack of wolves with a stick and a torch,
All so your Cro-Magnon flower could have something to sit on,
To keep off the cold cave floor,
While she weaves baskets, and cures skins.
The simple song,
Or the rabbit pelt and the shiny stone
Have devalued, since the arrival of currency.
But a poem,
Masterfully crafted,
Is a currency all its own.
The value of which is determined,
Not by the poet...
But by the reader.
Sep 15, 2012
Sep 15, 2012 at 2:05 PM UTC
For a moment, let's reset our society
VIctoria Secret Models are chubbier,
shorter than 5ft.
and don't have those golden locks with shimmering eyes
nor the perfect skin nor smiles
Yellow and crooked teeth are to be admired upon
chapped lips and no make up is the ideal beauty
McDonald's sells the most exquisite burgers
while Fogo De Chao is frowned upon
Harvard and those Ivy Leagues are
safety schools
and the community colleges have
an impossible admission of 70%
UNBELIEVABLE, RIGHT??
that gardeners and janitors were respected
as the kings of the world
and government and the congress are
to be denied, devalued, and made fun of.
now open your eyes
and hear the cars
and turn on the tv
and smell everything
which one would you rather prefer???
May 29, 2013
May 29, 2013 at 3:43 PM UTC
Ms. Miss Me
Messes with the mess
Of Me
Messianic Masonic Messiah
Making mountainous modules
Manufactured from the make-shift
Makings of my soul
Which lifts me
Higher than before
It’s
Mysterious mysticallity
How you made me
After you met me
The misogynistic misogamist misfit
Meets Ms. Perfect
You misled me
You knew I didn’t want to fall in love
I mistreated you
And now
I miss seeing you
Mr. Missed Her
Mistakenly misunderstood
Her magic
For a trick
My mania must mean
I’m
Malevolently maiming my mind
Never mind me
NO!
Forever mind me
You’re forever mine
Even if only in the mind
My metal moccasins
Stump through
The mine field
On my quest to find you
Again
Constant explosions
Milling
A million
M-80’s to make
A metaphor
Of the fire within
The fireworks
I mean
Hopefully the fire works
I destroyed your
Mint commission
I meant condition
Your mint condition
Was devalued
From my mixed intentions
And messages
Monotonous tasks
To get you back
I get your back
And stay forever
In your past
Empty
M.T.
Mt. Empty
You built me
Just to leave me
Empty
Jun 5, 2014
Jun 5, 2014 at 8:23 PM UTC
Texas dairy farm killers crushed the skulls of my holy vessels in 2011.
Their animals spirits descended to heaven.
They bludgeoned their heads as many times as 7.
My defenseless, sweet, trusting, innocent babies.
Their fate of their existence shouldn't be a maybe.
Wilbur & Bo Bo .
Should not be Bacon at breakfast with hot cocoa.
To eat what is dead is sickness unsaid.
Cattle **** the serial killers "downstairs".
Televise the video to be seen everywhere.
So caravores will start to care.
They heartlessly murdered my cows.
My cows. Mine now & forever in this time.
A life for a life.
A precious calf's life devalued, abused, disrespected, & used.
Meat has no price tag.
Like a two faced old hunchback sea hag.
A priceless life without tombstones or mourning.
This corrupt caravore world is disturbing & my empathy for the animals is pouring.
Change this mother earth in the next morning.
Father sky watches their animal spirits soaring.
****** is their hobby.
They butcher & dismember a creatures body.
Every animal belongs to me.
They have a spiritual essence I can see.
All species created are mine.
Their ****** is not okay or fine.
The killers need to do time.
I guess justice is something we have to find.
Baby cow is delicate & needs respect & love.
Baby piglet where is mommy spirits above?
Baby Lamb I love you your a baby angel.
The sinners morals are distorted & tangled.
Their bodies should be undamaged & not mangled.
Not on a death pile of other livestock.
Their revenge should be on the farmer's ****
Protect the living of these farms.
To the livestock bring no harm.
Sadistic butchers disarm.
Stop the slaughter alarm.
These creatures are precious their souls innocent.
The lives priceless & mint.
Meat industries & factory farms get a hint.
Clueless evil attacks as their back is turned.
A blow to their fragile baby head is how hamburgers are made i learned.
The dairy farmers killed my cows.
Unspeakable evil without a why or how.
The slaughter across the lands spread like a flood.
More death in the mud.
They lay on the ground in a pool of blood.
Their life drains from their lifeless bodies.
Feb 24, 2015
Feb 24, 2015 at 11:55 PM UTC
Lets address whats evident
In this room There's an Elephant.
Why do you see us as being irrelevant.
Just because our skin was kissed with melanin
Mixed in with the protien of Keratin
They slapped us with a label of being African American.
Yet we are descendants from one of the 12 tribes of Israel: Juah, Ephraim, Manasseh, Naphtali, Levi, Asher, Issachar, Gad, Zebulun, Reuben, Simeon, and Benjamin
We were taught to be Nurturing and feminine
Because we were raised to be young ladies, due to our body producing high levels of estrogen.
We are sweet like sugar but can be spicy like cinnamon.
We have an Aroma of shea butter, coconut, and honey
We are enlighten with wisdom, so we are far from a dummy.
We cant be bought be bought with your worldly money.
Even on a dark day you would think its sunny
Because our souls are so divine
that it's reflection from the inside will brighten the world like the The moon in the midnight's sky that shines.
We are Unashamed.
We can not be tamed
Inside us lies a firery passionate buring flame.
We have a Hebrew name.
We are not the same,
We are individually different and one of a kind.
We have a beautiful mind.
We are fruitful like ripen Grapes growing ravashingly on the branches from vine.
We age like fine wine.
We are not to be treated as devalued change such as quarters, pennies, nickles and dimes.
Our voices are delightfullly sweet just as the peaceful sound of musical wind chimes.
We tell stories through our dancing, words, paintings, songs, poems, verses, rhythms and rhymes.
We dont need makeup to cover up a blemish
Its just a sign that we have flaws and God's not finished.
The power of Yah flows from us graciously.
For Our beauty comes naturally.
Our souls are birth from the heavenly.
We speak Pleasantly.
Some have a complexion of Maghony.
But My skin tone is Vanilla bean
I get high off life like caffeine
I glisten like afro sheen.
I am a Hebrew Queen.
Thru the untrained eye my future cant be seen
The Most High is listening,
Shaping, and our futures he's creating.
We Seek Yahwehs face for insight
Going through a transformation to get our souls right.
Taking a journey to new heights.
We are stand out like highlights
Shining in the world of darkness like flashlights.
And Yeshua Hamashiach has our copyrights
We say it out Loud
We are Hebrew and We are proud!
Nov 16, 2016
Nov 16, 2016 at 8:32 PM UTC
I cannot stand it, it weakens my core, it stifles my breath
The thought of him, forcing himself inside you
Making you whimper, unutterable sounds
Your unconditional complicity a gift, a given
Your abandon knowing no bounds
My manhood shriven
While I have dropped off the edge of your world
Your shapely limbs around him furled
And he, firmer, faster, harder, smarter, younger
Scoops up your jewels and riches with ardent hands
And hungry tongues, to burst your lungs
And all you can eats from your smouldering smorgasbord
And I don’t know him, nor where he lives
But I know he lives
And dies, and dies again in your scented garden….
Aug 28, 2018
Aug 28, 2018 at 12:56 AM UTC
Fight and scrape
For ever miserable
Devalued dollar
That is the globalists plan for me
You know they are having a family dinner
I left because I'm not a success I guess
I don't have a good job
I don't feel welcome there I guess
So now I'm at the Starbucks
May 18, 2015
May 18, 2015 at 11:26 PM UTC
You don't even know you failed your spiritual test?
Treated me like one of your side projects – left unfinished
You were surprised to find my self worth undiminished
You only devalued yourself and now your charade is finished
So take off on some other vision quest
You'll never even see how much you were blessed
Given so much more than you deserve
You could've had it all if you'd found the nerve
To keep the true course instead of swerve
Break promises and pretend you've done your best
Tore open my eyes and showed me you're no better than the rest
Just another coward claiming to be strong
And you proved to me that my heart was wrong
For my fire in your cold world cannot belong
You're not the hero I deserve and I won't settle for less!
Feb 27, 2017
Feb 27, 2017 at 7:01 PM UTC
Horror
It is the moment
When one culture
Decides
It is superior
To another
It is the moment
When life
Is devalued
To the point
That extermination
Can be done
Without feeling
But instead
With moral certainty
The certainty
That the God
Of the dominant culture
Approves
And
When the screams
Cannot be heard
Because
They are not real
To you
And even if they were
It wouldn’t matter
Because
Insanity
Does not recognize
Itself
And because
Fear
Justifies anything
And because
The reality that has been constructed
In your mind
Is that you are normal
And they are not
So they must die
And you must live
No matter
The symptom
Of the disease
You have been taught
To love
Feb 16, 2012
Feb 16, 2012 at 1:11 PM UTC
People walk. they drive, talk is cheap
like some Red Wine by the gallon my dad bought, often
he was not a nice man to most, what they could not change, they overlooked.
Overnight when the sun rises things,
will have changed as much as they stay the, same,
it will rain somewhere, and as many tear drops will fall from eyes of those with
broken hearts, and those eyes if you looked in them, you would never forget, ever.
Ever sit there on the dewy grass at night or in some Adirondack,
chair, actually in the Adirondacks, and just want to shrink and be small
enough to disappear and travel at the speed of light, with out getting
tangled, under the stars, in string theory.
Totally impossible you think and that may be where all of our problems start, we dwell on the
impossible when the possible is one small step away from you until you get so
close, the impossible becomes I'm possible, I'm possible, repeat and repeat.
Riches, little can be so varied, there are some common ones, money, jewelry, stock portfolio,
there are so many tangible and all most intangible, love, joy, goodness, kindness,
gratitude, notice no mention of war, violence, death enough of that out there, they
are devalued right now, yes, yes they are yes.
You are the best advocate of change I ever met, start with a small, stay close to your heart and close to home, write poetry, take care of yourself and when you find the ONE, take care of each other, there is power in right relationships, now if you have found the ONE, teach your children too, end your day with a laugh and smile, but be alone as little as you need to, teach peace.
Oct 7, 2013
Oct 7, 2013 at 1:05 AM UTC
Shall I cover you with gold
and bow down to worship you?
When all you are is temporal?
Shall I prostrate myself before you
and beg you not to leave me?
Although you have betrayed
and devalued me?
Shall I cover you with gold
and bow down to worship you?
No!
For you are an idol to me no longer!
I run to the One who is Faithful and True.
Who loves me far, far more than you.
At last, Lord Jesus,
You have won my heart.
And from Your arms I will never depart.
You alone are the Lover of my Soul.
And when You have tried me.
I shall come forth as gold. (Job 23:10)
Jul 10, 2016
Jul 10, 2016 at 11:43 PM UTC
I want to destroy myself.
To fall into a pit of elated destruction
Watch me woo myself into the blackness. . .
I want to raise all hell
Dance with strange, strange mutants,
Imbibe some dreaded poison
So I can sleep the nights away in a daze.
I want to use the spell of drugs,
And watch it wrap around my throat and heart,
Just to feel something.
Dead no more, no more.
I want to let evil coil,
Bring in absinthe and *****
Make me immune to its toxicity
Make me spin, make me spin.
Maybe a good dose of lust too,
For the final concoction,
And let this bomb brew in the form of a witch's stew
Then let me **** you.
I want to destroy myself,
I only feel alive when I'm burning.
I want to sink into the cruel skin
I was meant to don.
I saved myself, I wanted to be your
Good girl,
Thinking you'd value me higher.
Instead I feel devalued and cheap anyway
Might as well let the white ******* come off.
Stupid, filthy girl,
Let me drink down this **** with a bottle of ***
Jan 26, 2014
Jan 26, 2014 at 5:25 PM UTC
Standing, waiting, my face blank, uncaring and staring
at the garish colors of their cheap and ill-fitting clothes.
Cramming in, fingers all greasy, raucously laughing,
jabbering ******** braying useless information, loudly.
Swarming, idly in hot little dark holes of rooms, making
a suffocating stench from ragged mouth-breathing.
Obnoxious.
******* disgusting, everyone.
Don't ******* touch me.
This is overwhelming.
"There's too many people in here."
You sidle up to me, saying what we're both thinking, and then we leave.
Both of us glaring at the ********* shuffling slowly, in the way,
unable to meet our height or eyes, they remain glued
to the tiny screens in their sweaty and hot little hands,
as their annoying children are screaming and running.
You.
You, with your shit-brown eyes.
Silent and stoic, with a hard-edged jaw. Are you ******** me?
Like not making eye contact with me is going to shame me,
stripping me of something that you never even bestowed?
You think I'm obscene?
Mister, look at you.
I am tired, but, I am okay. I am fine.
I don't care what you otherwise say.
Alive and sober, awake and dying.
I am improving, actively evolving.
I am not devalued or retrograding.
**** you.**
Don't not look at me, as though I were a freak.
Don't sneer and scoff, and judge me, as meat.
**** you.**
You think you know me better than me?
You think you could even convince me differently?
am I right, or am I right?
Go ahead, lock your jaw, frown and furrow your brow, you magnanimous hypocrite.
We're both autonomous, and rich, in Ameri-fucking-ca, with freedom out the *******
You're free to judge me.
I'm free to say **** you.
We both bleed red blood.
We both will do as we will,
loving, ******** fighting,
drinking, ******* coping,
hiding, hurting, smelling,
crying, begging, hating,
breathing, needing, eating,
sleeping, living, and dying
under the great majesty of
A *******
INDIFFERENT
UNIVERSE
where we both need to
stop thinking differently.
May 12, 2013
May 12, 2013 at 10:01 PM UTC
I am angry.
You should be angry. We should all be angry.
It was breakfast in Tripoli when she burst into the Rixos hotel housing foreign journalists bleeding, bruised and burned by ropes. She went there because they would listen. She wanted to tell the world her story.
Gadhafi’s forces held her against her will for 2 days being tortured and ***** by 15 different men. Her body displayed the proof.
When she spoke up her government was quick to stifle her. Called her a ********** Questioned her sanity. Security suppressed her. Even her own people called her a traitor. She was drug off to a waiting car and we haven’t heard from her since.
She is the very definition of courage. She stood up for herself and her people, knowing the consequences of her actions might lead to her end.
She dared to stand in a crowded room, scream at the top of her lungs, and demand the world’s attention. And for so long, no one noticed. Until someone finally looked up.
I feel like I should be comforted by this fact. The fact that her story was told and now we know the disturbing way Gadhafi’s government operates. But it doesn’t change anything. I’m still angry. It wasn’t just her honor that was violated. It’s every woman in Libya. In Iraq. In Sudan. In Afghanistan. In America.
Every woman afraid to swim, paralyzed by the fear that they will create waves. Every woman in dangerous places seeking safety and security. Every woman who is disrespected and devalued and disregarded and dominated. Every woman who is made to believe she is inferior and that she is only worth what is in between her legs.
I want to do more. I want to bring change. I want to open eyes. I want to start a revolution. I want to teach women to swim so that they won’t drown. I want them to kick and splash and cause a tsunami and knock down societies that threaten the worth of a woman. I want to march into when Eman is being held and demand for her freedom. I want her integrity cleared. I want to beat down oppression with my own two fists.
But instead I sit in the dark and I cry and I pray. Watching the news, being angry and afraid. Her name was Eman al-Obeidy. She was a mighty and bold priestess. When they destroyed her temple, she stood up on the mountain and preached a message of justice and social change and necessity. And she was silenced in front of our very eyes. The memory of her face still fresh in our minds and her song resonating in our hearts saying, “TAKE ACTION.”
May 12, 2011
May 12, 2011 at 6:04 PM UTC
i met a mongol once in amsterdam, we exchanged a tearful stare and said a melancholic hello, as if we were to be brother in cement or sandstone of what the sun rememebred and man forgot but nonetheless carved for enshadowed suave of the shadowing hand on hand upon handed down remnant of the handless kanji... the motherless thus tongueless river of sight utilising hand and hand as sophistication of spying thanks to the hands’ shadows: thus no shadow tongue unless that shadow be thought or the abstract off thought: pre-meditation and the subsequent minded courtsey as requested of the blank page or the buddha’s slitted eyes faking intoxication by western standards of that green plant the mongols despise: and western societies fare to tax and thus exploit.
and it would be easiest to withhold making talks
with the slavs
by compensation of the northern-most mosque
being established
as true progression...
but then having insulated the slavs
who are "primarily" plumbers and electricians
to make any dent in the politics of the other monotheists...
where the european excludes the european from europe
there you will see war as encouraging the asian
or the arab...
there you will see war, should a
european exclude european from europe
there you will see war
caucausian againts the rooster against the morn!
TAR TAR! TAR TAR! TAR! TAR!
(in japanese tora tora tora!)
because you did not cherish our shared values
thus become devalued therefore value your integral anti-economic
evaluations that have no place in my land
but concern of keeping brown in the noun and not in the verb
of racism and sun;
i've become a barabbas among you, you messiahs,
you messiah selfies and messiah implants,
what gave you the jews scorned has given
me you as the "jews" scorned in your disorientation
of the fathomed atom bomb already spoken of in
the book of the apocalypse....
but a man ejecting an european from europe
to fantacise a non-invoked colonialism will halve in carving
this world in half for multi-cultarism!
no pole ever spoke of colonialism to see you speak
of post-colonial re-colonialisation of remote areas so ardently cared for:
conquer... and subsequently fall: your sons the additive bullets:
я и pоссия demand: the caucaucus tribes to
fake unity with the danube fools of erected bohemia.
Dec 2, 2015
Dec 2, 2015 at 11:35 PM UTC
Alone, cold,
Misunderstood.
Fighting a battle that began before our conception.
Cursed. The physical manifestation of ones fathers mistake.
Emotions removed, confiscated. No longer relevant.
Useless.
Sympathy lost when love failed us.
Patience is the only retribution.
The endangered struggling black father.
On the verge of self destruction.
Restricted from the love of his own life force.
With no direction. No support.
Intense emotions personified by a series of precise phrases representing static progress and consistent negligence.
Our efforts are never enough.
Our words mean nothing.
Our concerns, suppressed.
Our worries, neglected.
Our respect, vaporized.
Our life. Devalued.
The endangered species
The struggling black father...
Jan 22, 2021
Jan 22, 2021 at 12:49 AM UTC
i.
I crumble
chalk
on the black
paint
of a water
holding
its breath
in a single
fish
its glass eye
of evolution
and the sound
of god
making light
of his angels
unfolding
as they are
hospital beds to guide
a piloted
exhaustion-
flight reminds the dead. the solo
moan
of a bird
lands
on the shoulder
of a widow
as the twice devalued coin
of looking, looks
on.
ii.
I wish
I could dream
away
my name, the bad
mornings spent cheating
on her sadness
her sadness a jewel
madly
in the mouth
of a thief
some redundant
angel
chewing
the root
of its own
absence.
Jul 16, 2012
Jul 16, 2012 at 3:26 PM UTC