I have been discriminated
But I refuse to be intimidated
For I am a victim of racism
But it isn't my fault.

Take into consideration
About my situation
That I am a target of racism
But it isn't my fault.

Being put into humiliation
Caused my frustration
Because I am a prey of racism
But it isn't my fault.

I have done an investigation
About the contamination
Of our population
Called racism
And it is society's fault

My grandma doesn't come to Christmas dinner anymore
I still remember the last Christmas she showed up to
She told me I was her favorite grandchild
While I'm flattered that's kind of ****** up grandma

So I asked her why
And I don't know what I expected but certainly not
"Because you're my only grandchild"
You see it hit me then that the reason I'm her favorite
Is because she doesn't claim the others

Because her son , my father
Married a white woman
While her daughter , my aunt
Married a black man
And they had her grandchildren
And they had her great grandchildren
But to her they are not family

And it was suddenly clear to me
Why my cousins never came to a single Christmas at my house
So now you're wondering
If my biracial cousins never showed up in the first place
Why did she all of a sudden stop coming

Well it's about 20% because she's old as **** now
And 20% because my brother is adopted
And his two biological sisters come to our Christmas now
And they all have different dads
One white , one black , one Hispanic

And 20% because my brother is engaged to a Muslim woman
And they have the most beautiful tan skinned baby together
And 20% because my other cousins married Asian men
And have you seen a half Asian baby
Because they're ******* adorable
*******

And finally 20% because our Christmas dinner table kind of looks
Like a small scaled globe
With ham on one side , rice on the other ,
and nachos somewhere in between
And we're all sitting together
With all our different shades of skin
And my grandmother does not accept
Anyone's shade but my own
But her own

But we are all beautiful
And we are all family
And there is only one race at my Christmas dinner table
And there is only one race in my world
The human race
And I wish my grandmother could see it that way
I wish the world could see it that way

I wish the world was more like our dinner table
Because chips and salsa is the best appetizer
Because rice is the best side dish
Because loving everyone no matter what they look like
Should come easy
Loving thy neighbor
Loving thy ******* family
Should come easy

And maybe that's why my Christmas looks the way it does
Because we have all been discriminated against
But never at my mothers house
And that's why even though we are not all blood
We are all considered family

I laugh at all of our Christmas cards
While grandma flinches at the sight
But that's fine
Christmas is not about receiving
It's about giving
And my blood family has given many others the chance to be one of us
I hope one day the world looks like my dinner table
And I hope there's nachos
I really hope there's nachos

As they broke their bread for Lent, TrumputiN's team, hellbent,
Contrived a way to derive from the ripping apart of 3000 Latino
Families, an unending flow of your tax dolla's to predominently
Republican manned anti-immigration agencies, it should make you
Wanna holla, they called it 'zero tolerance', just to throw
All off the scent, and muddy the term's use hence, the white
Supremacy for the Black, in ebony and ivory's working together
In perfect harmony, to do away with 'zero tolerance' in schools,
To increase the amount of crime delinquent kids get done before
They're justifiably kicked out, same old, same old, tragically.

RumputiN got donations from one private prison corp, that got
A 200 million $ contract to house the kids, the involved Fed
Agencies then discriminated against families with kids by
Targeting them for family ripping on our South Western border.
These kids were caged, continually shuttled around at early
Morning hours so they'd be noticed less, were given no way
To contact relatives, their parents almost no way to contact
Them, the 'tender age' kids, 8 months old and up, not given
Humane necessary professsional care, etc., which will dictate
Lifelong traumatic effects, and deep psychological problems.

The courts continually order deadlines by which "these families
Must be reunited", but the altright universe invaders working
For trumpler continually miss them, and project genocidal lies
Like, "hundreds of these kids are ineligible to be reunited
With their parents", most parents having been deported already,
Even though a large % were legally asking for asylum at our
Border, this is genocidal and illegal internationally, there
Are no "ineligible" to be together innocent kids and parents,
When will prumptutin's genocide of Latinos, escalation of the
Oligarchy's class war against lower-middle-class to poor, end?

The gov't criminally dictated that "if they want to see their
Kids again they have to sign away their rights and leave", etc.,
Atrocities against these poor souls and groups like the ACLU,
While doing their best to remedy the abuses against them, our
Compadres, they, while not funded by the gov't, are mocked by
RumputiN, and he projects that "they should reunite families",
Instead of the gov't agencies who ripped them apart.  At least
The judges are deligently expressing the entirety of the fault
For these atrocities lies with the **** crime family's flocks
Of felons, and they must rectify it now, when will they?!?!?
When will the prosecutions of them use the REICO Statute,
And thereby, stop being elaborate cover-ups, giving out immunity

To dozens of organized criminals, while only incarcerating
A few.  Who is dense enough to not see through the smoke, mirrors,
Song, dance of the show that must go on's politic theatre macabre
Of the global oligarchy's cover up of itself?  Who is not knowing
That Mueller, who was part of the elite of the repub conspiracy
That purposely didn't prevent attacks on 9-11-01, during king
George and his ****, cheney's reign on the American way of life,
Is part of the intelligence industrial complex's 2016 invisible
Coup during, and hacking of, the presidential election, resulting
In RumputiN's installation in the Blackhouse ('cause once you go
Black you never go back), as well as the continual cover-up?  

Who, that comey, alone, could have been responsible for non-repubs
Loss of the Presidency, and now the supremacy court, especially if
The dems don't stop a kavanaugh vote before the midterms that are
Near?  Who ..., that most of the supposed "school shootings", acts
Of terror, targeting future non-repub leaders, are engineered, timed
And executed by the crimnal repub conspiracy that must be prosecuted
Using the REICO Statute also, who ..., that ebony and ivory, the
Black and white supremacies, working together in perfect harmony,
As are all 21 flavors of our baskin + robbins of supremacies, are
Struggling to mass-****** a million Americans, liquidating the ases
And assets of the masses, and calling it legislation, like ****** did
Before his "final solution", who, that the American daymare must end?

Diving into bath salts, raving flue that is as sicking as math, at least that is what I conclude from my findings presented to the court. Objection, objection, sir I don't see the connection, maybe your rhyme scheme needs perfection. Maybe it does, but ***** it, I'm blessed by God; baby please sit down and take a chill pill and just enjoy this buzz. Busting off, so back off, bout to prove my case like I’m Ace Attorney, oh and I know it’s off topic but if I lived in America, I would’ve voted for Bernie. What the **** am I on? Came to save the digital world you can call me a digimon, you bet I’m a champion! Serendipity dear deputy; I’ll be typically wittingly searching for some tranquility. What is the validity of this vicinity as I only accept notability and won’t let this become a liability!

Pathologically paraplegic hypochondriac with insomniac who be popping poems profusely perfect; while whimsically worm's try to be strategic, but sadly choke and lose it. Miles set apart; it certainly is not a strut in some park, but everyone has to start somewhere before they engrave their mark. Don't reside yourself to just being a silhouette, nor be one to toot your clarinet. Two sides to every person like Dr.Jekyll and Mr.Hyde; be careful to not let your pride turn into carbon monoxide. For pride will always lead to your downfall, so please take off your iron curtain and tear down your Berlin wall. Improvident incongruous incredulous confidence; underwhelming astonishment of such fundaments of these heinous and callous acts of deceitfulness. Trickery of thy decadence; why art though jittery when you are full of benevolence? So used to getting what you want I bet; well this situation can not be fixed by dough, so I see why you are in a cold sweat! Fake confidence won't help you here especially when one lies; you made a mistake and will face the consequences and I am not one quick to forgive no matter how much you apologize.  

Don’t have time to consider your sensibility, because my life is going a twitter with too much hyperactivity for me to deal with your stupidity. Befittingly that I’ll be building up the intensity, to infinity and beyond goes this creativity of this anomaly. Not going to prolong this phenomenon, I’ll be going off like a Molotov over this intercom, yeah you better not ever underestimate this underdog. Lackadaisical are these other rappers; they’re so replaceable and incapable to be educational. Incomprehensible is this loop of hip-hop now a days, why can’t we be inspirational or is it to late because we left morals and substance back in the olden days. Can’t afford to be anchored anymore, I’ve poured in too much time to be just be locked behind some door. I refuse to be ignored and be left ashore; I am not worried about going into the storm; because you are bound to come across some things that need some work like chores. Spinning the wheel, reminiscing of how it felt when I no longer concealed who I was and my self-image had been healed.

Used to be reclusive & convinced myself that I was a duffass, but now I’m exclusive to being a smart ***. This is the new era, this is a new fire; it’s time to spice things up so better pull out the sriracha. Leading the revolution like I’m Che Guevara, I’m light as feather whatever the endeavor even if my life story doesn’t end up as pristine as Cinderella’s. Why so infatuated by worldly wants? Why so decorated when you can't hide the fact that you're the same basic *** font? Trying be something else, striving to be someone else, wanting to be anything else. You are who you are, if you think it will make things better you cucu, because in my eyes you are really a star. You have to expand your interpretation and perspective of life, you have to demand without hesitation a piece of that collective pie; because I believe everyone should be equal in this life.

Calculated bullets that go straight through my cranium; manufactured outlets that show great things but have also turned us into brainless aliens. Complicated hookups that grow irritating and become as unstable as uranium; what was once sacred has become as spontaneous as going to a gymnasium. Confiscated trinkets cast away and leaves those affected very irritate; while also simultaneously making apathetic souls that have gone through the same thing be able to understand, help or relate. Cultivated rebellious culprits that don't take the memo of being cooperative, instead they choose to be provocative and opposite of the other conglomerates. I’m so fascinated by this fabricated segregated supposedly liberated and sophisticated community; where-as some so foolishly stupidly amusingly think that everyone has the same equal chance at opportunity. Moderated, regulated and orchestrated where some are situated; if you don’t think that it has something to do with be affiliated to a certain demographic then maybe you never got educated in the affairs of those discriminated. It’s a good thing then that class is in session; so viewer or listener  please use discretion when taking time to witness or hear my position. Deafening out all ill whims; wrestling with these unsettling menacing fears and guilt from all of my sins.

Yeah no need for hallucinogens, all I need is two hydrogens and one oxygen. Rocking in my moccasins; so you can bet I am not one to drop my promises. Native honour who is also a innovative scholar and who was created not to falter. I may not be good with numbers, but I'm good at making sure you never slumber on my words; because I work on them day and night in my 36 chambers. Beware the pretender, they are manufactured by the vendors to keep us from being together. Defend your heart; be wise who you befriend and who you pick for your counterpart. There will be hurt and affection can be perverted, so know your worth and never ever let yourself be distorted. It is not your fault, it is not my fault, so then who is at fault? Is it just life in general? Is it because of the being who lives eternal? Is it all of the above? I don't know, but we shouldn't judge and instead choose to accept and love!

Pardon me Martin, but if this class were a prison I’d be the warden. I make the rules here and I took the tools given to me to get me here. So listen, please listen to my lesson that I have to present to you as class is still in session. Loading yawl with ammunition to be able to transition to be able to complete your goals or missions. No I’m not tripping, I’m driven  by a higher force to break away the old ways of thinking such as division. This is not the prohibition anymore, so please open your minds and join me on this expedition. Going into the unknown, so here’s to hoping you get through this, as time goes on and be able to look back at it we may feel like this was no more than a tiny but important milestone.  Achieve, believe, conceive, receive, intrigue, and succeed because I think you are unique. You are the only you in the whole galaxy, don’t let agony turn into tragedy; ***** anxiety; yeah and never let your dreams just be some fantasy.

Outro: Sit down class ain't over yet, forfeit those frowns or fake faint or try to jet. Lastly remember what transpired today; don't go hastily and forget about it on December break okay? For though class may be over, more days or years to come until its finally over. Though education ends, one never stops learning even on vacations with family or friends.  I hope you can look back with fondness, I hope you can stay on track in the future if you truly take the time to just focus. Is there truly an end or is this just the beginning to a new bend.

The already preset disposition of being Asian.
I must've been accidentally mixed in the wrong laundry basket,
because they tell me I'm white-washed.
Born with foreign looks but a native tongue
my birth certificate calls me *****
I would be the blonde-hair-blue-eyes of a country on the other side of the world
but here,
I'm still considered an immigrant
in my own home.

When you are Asian-American,
you are also the stereotypes that trail your title.
You are sushi
You are jackie-chan
You are karate
You are good grades
You are the slant-eyed pignose supporting character
WELCOME TO THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
LAND OF THE FREE, HOME OF THE BRAVE
WHERE UNITED IS TRANSLATED AS DISCRIMINATED!
BUT DON'T GET IT TWISTED, ASIANS ARE PRETTY COOL!

Excuse me straight misogynist white male,
your Godzilla type of Asian,
or my culture?
When have I
as an individual
played a character in these quote on quote American movies?
Hmm oh yeah, that's right!
I was in Fast and Furious!
Didn't I also make an appearance in Harry Potter as the cute innocent
Cho Chang?
If this also applies to you can I please have your autograph
because I'm pretty sure I've seen you star in every movie
I've ever seen.
Or at least your people, right?

Don't try to tone down the damage
I already know I'm categorized in this Asian fetish
that all you'll ever see in me is rice and anime,
nothing more, nothing less.
And if I were to become an author instead of a doctor,
I'd be considered as a social unnorm
a disgrace
but isn't it already disgraceful that in this bleached-colors world
I have lost touch of my heritage,
my roots replaced with a skeleton idea of who I'm supposed to be
I wear a mask.

My friends speak to my mom in their native language.
Sitting there,
disoriented,
lost in pronunciation
I ask my mother why she did not teach me her natural tongue.

She says,
"because you are American."
And I still do not believe her.

Though in dexterity my  physically challenged  carpenter father,
Than  the physically fit proves better,as a source to his anger,
With contemporaries a level ground  he enjoyed never!

From late childhood there was one thing that me used to bother,  why my so discriminated father
On his turn true to cultural dictates,ill treats my domestic chores saddled mother
And heeds not her say though by the sweat of their brow
As responsible parents they were happily bringing my sister and I together?

I still wonder why ,why ,why my sister who has IQ
On par with me if not better,to help out mother
Suffering a cold shoulder even by her mom was denied the  right to pursue education further
While I was given a chance to prove a man of letter(s)?

I remember, crossing many a pool, barefooted, I used to trek
A long distance to a nearby town's a  school,
Where for my  provincial and shabby clothes I was seen a fool
By the relatively rich  in showing courtesy far from cool.
Though stationery they didn't lack , sad,I had a hand tied behind my back.

Alas,up on joining campus where I yearned for the sagacious a chance
There too  in my class,I was looked down by students
Hailing from families of the top brass.

When I went abroad for a higher education enjoying fellowship and donation
Worse still, I met many, colour has coloured whose vision.
Ironically my dissertation was drawing attention
To why should the broad mass be standers by
And with ill-fate marked die
While the favoured ,racist and the corrupt few gobble over 3/4 of the pie? /

Lately I've been a little moody
I get triggered by comments made
on a video or a tweet or the supposed
leader of our nation spouting his views
on ****** assault victims....

The real victims....men and boys that
are being accused of a horrible act
Innocent yet treated like they're guilty.
Please, don't get me wrong.
Being falsely accused is terrible.
Any one guilty of it should be held liable.

But, after all of the victims, women and men alike
coming forward to tell their stories, he speaks on
behalf of the accused.....Am I stupid for being angry?
What really disappoints me are the people that get upset
when women react to such insensitive views.
They tweet or comment and I try to have conversations
with these people and end up screaming into a pillow!

I walk away wondering if it's worth my time to make
my point of view understood.  
Will I ever change any ones mind?
It's the black lives matter vs all lives matter struggles
all over again!
The argument of should players stand for the anthem!

Why don't people understand that saying black lives matter
doesn't mean ONLY black lives matter, it's a way of saying
Please remember!!!  Black lives matter TOO!  Stop the hate!!!
People of color are being discriminated against and we are tired.
So finally a man decides to protest by calmly taking  knee during the anthem aaaaannnd......here HE comes to manipulate the meaning of it all and makes it about disrespecting the flag and
our troops.  

And don't even get me started on gay rights!  To be treated like
second class citizens is ludicrous!  How fantastically absurd to
be told by your own government that you cannot marry the
person you love! And because life has to be just a little more
unfair the LGBTQ community are at high risk for ******
assault and hate crimes too!    

I realize none of this is new....I guess the Kavanaugh hearing
triggered me and I can't seem to get it off my mind.  I heard
Dr. Ford's testimony and watched as so many people, including
the man himself, come with more and more ****** excuses
and a half *** investigation and in the end he sits on the supreme court any way.  

I'll do my duty....I'll use my voice and vote, but I live in a red
state and I know it's an up hill battle.  One that may be lost.
But I've said my piece.  If you've read through it all, thank you.
If you agree with me, keep fighting. If you don't, I respect your
opinion, but I'll never understand it.

People of all ages sitting in a circle staring at the ground, ceiling, etc. a few twitching.

"Hi, I'm Fred."

"Hi Fred"

"I started this group because I found that I was on Hello Poetry 24/7. I got an account and I loved it. At first I was only on a little, posting one or two poems a day. But I loved it so much I began spending more time on it. It became a problem when I was fired for focusing on Hello Poetry instead of the heavy machinery I was operating. I was drinking so much coffee so I didn't have to sleep that I couldn't think straight. I began writing strange poems about adhesive sloths and grapes. My wife threatened to leave me if I didn't delete my account. I tried to stay off it but, it didn't work out. My wife took my kids and told me that I was too irresponsible. I responded with a limerick. She was very mad and left immediately after. I really want to stop being addicted to Hello Poetry and when I asked I got an overwhelming response from people who felt the same. If everyone could please introduce themselves in a clockwise direction."

"Hi… I'm… um… kittylover682"

"Hi kittylover682"

"So… I used to have a name, but now I can only remember my screen name. In fact, that is really the only part of my identity that remains. I miss obsessing over kitties and petting them, but now I just spend all my time on Hello Poetry. I used to have such a kitty-full life! I had so much potential! i made friends with every type of kitty, even new ones, i never discriminated. I met persian kitties, and alley kitties and tabby kitties and I went and pet them and showed them love… then i got kicked out of people's houses for sneaking in to pet their kitties… but my point is, kitties were my LIFE! And now, my life revolves around that little lightening bolt and i can only seem to speak in metaphors. That lightning bolt is the death of my heart, the thorn in my side, the electricity that warps my body and it just… it is a storm inside of my life. The agony when i see that my lightning bolt is not lit up with a notification… it is an undying fiery hell within my soul. I makes me want to… to… well, it makes me consider leaping off of cliffs or in front of trains… but the only thing that stops me is the hindering idea that I may have to get off of hello poetry for a few moments to go do that so I remain, under my bed on my computer, posting poetry, reading poetry, commenting, liking, reposting… its a VICIOUS CYCLE!!! WHAT HAPPENED TO ME?!!!!”

“Hi I’m DaPoet”

“Hi DaPoet”

“Like, kittylover682 I had a different name, but this is MUCH cooler. I don’t think I have a problem, because who says there is anything wrong with being a poet? Also I’m not a normal poet. All of my poems are also raps. I’m here because my mom thinks I have a problem. Apparently choosing poetry over sleep and school is not okay. I don’t understand her ‘logic’”

“Hi I’m DYING”

“Hi Dying”

“No, that’s not my name, who CARES what my name is?! I’m only still here and not on Hello Poetry right now because my sister has chained me to this chair and bolted it to the floor. She thinks I need help but I AM DYING! I need to get on it! I DON’T HAVE A PROBLEM! I’M FINE! I’M FINE! GIVE ME BACK MY LAPTOP!”

“Please calm down.”

“Shut up Fred!
There once was a man named Fred,
who got it into his stupid head,
that people needed to be cured,
of the obsession with the written word,
and as soon as I get unchained FRED IS GOING TO BE DEAD!”

“Okay… please stop creating violent limericks on the spot. We have all been there, there IS a way out.”

“I DON’T WANT A WAY OUT! I HATE TO SHOUT, BUT WITHOUT A DOUBT YOU ARE A BIG DUMB LOUT!”

“Okay, stop making really ****** rhymes please.”

“Well then… GIVE ME BACK MY LAPTOP!”

“Okay… let’s just move on. We’ll come back to you. Next person, please go on, I’ll duct tape his mouth shut. Silence is golden, but duct tape is silver, after all.”

“Hi I’m…Sally”

“Excuse me, could you put down your phone while you introduce yourself?”

“No… Oh my gosh, Poetry is Life started trending!”

“I’m sorry what?”

“My fourth latest poem started trending!”

“YAY!” *everyone claps and congratulates Sally

“No. No more Hello Poetry. We are supposed to stop obsessing over poetry and be cured from this addiction.”

“I don’t want to be cured.”

“I love Hello Poetry”

“Why don’t we change this to a spoken word club!”

“Yes!”

“Hi I’m DaPoet and I declare this a new spoken word club!”

“YAY!”

“No no no! I created this to-” Sally clubs Fred in the head with her phone and he drops dead

“YAY! FRED IS DEAD!”

“He was hit in the head”

“And we are now free”

“To write continuous poetry!”

“And become more obsessed instead!”

The end.


REPOST IF YOU REALLY NEED TO ATTEND THIS SUPPORT GROUP TOO LIKE US
PLEASE COMMENT! WE LOVE TO READ ANY THOUGHTS YOU HAVE!

welcome to classy productions, this is the beginning of my classy movement, so enjoy this ride with me, and please keep your bias opinions to yourself, thank you. Yeah started from the bottom unlike, I ain't no phoney fake, I have a for you all; spoiler alert it may be honest and hurt your ignorant minds. This is my interlude but we haven't been formally introduced, my name is classy j, it's my privilege to make some sick mind blowing rhymes just for you. Grew up in a broken home, only child all alone, yeah just me and my mom, if I could go back and change things I would, but life sadly life has no rewind. I only have the road in front of me, so I  chase it, trying to find out my destiny, trying to figure out the real me. Started life, grasping for life, I've been a fighter my entire life, because I don't take **** from others. Left with my ironic name, left with a messed up family, left to walk the darkness of life, trying so hard to see. Life happens man, humans are idiotic fiends, survival of the fittest in the war zone of life, no where to hide, no way to find cover. Bonafide native that has a talent for the creative, not an alcoholic, not some drug addict, but yet society and police doesn't seem to want to accept me yet. They tell me to go to nativia, quickly let's do some trivia, to see how really stupid you all are. Illegal genocidal aliens mad about other foreign aliens, natives were here first, so I don't want to hear you fret. If you don't like it leave, when become a discriminated minority, let me know about it the next time you go by my bar. You have no clue what true classiness is, because indigenous people still are alive  and are now ready to challenge your privileged view. We used to be quiet and contempt with taking all your lie's and *******, but now we are ready to fight for what we stand for, so beware the upcoming storm. You tried to **** us, you tried to make us white, but it didn't work out for you, government you may be ******, but we will no longer be your jews. This is reality, you've been warned, it doesn't need to become a race war, cause if it came to that, would you be prepared to combat against our final form. This is a real issue, that you can no longer hid in your dark past. It's time to stop your lie's, it's time for honesty, it's time for class, so sit your white assess down, because we are now in session. You lucky this is just an interlude, because I'm not close to being finished with you, you may not enjoy this, but I'm having a blast. Evidence all over the place, why go to court, when you should just tell your guilty confession. NO more half fast apologies and no changes being made after that? What is up with that? I ain't having that! No way to truly slice this issue cleanly, because I promise there will be some after math in this habitat you bunch of tardy cats.

the idylie of two beloved
who are not discriminated
neither by each other
not by others
because of their gender
isnt it utopy?
Ask by some gay paars,
whether they ever forget
how they anounnced about their love
to their  orthodox parents...
what a hidden pain..
which always will remain
ask by the woman in suburb
how many *******
devastated her heart
before she met this handsome practical guy
who she may not really love
but cherish just the appereance of love
in form of elementar peace at home
without daily scandal
How oft we play satisfied when
in reality cats in the soul scratch
sometime there is no sight
how to difference lovely clotherness
from the chain of compomise
which people care
with clothed eyes.
happy love relation is rare
but luckely they are, they do exist.
but what about this phenomen like friendship?
Almost everybody would say
she/he have good friends
the paradox consist only in a fact
that modern life in the west
never  put this
kinship on exam
since people are financelly independent
other else too, when they clients of the dole
and live from welfare
they are secured
there is no situation happens
that friend must to sell their car, or
put a ring from a finger
to salvate their friend from some calamity..
those friendship mostly base on
pleasant time spent together
out of any mutual bonds...
but friendship to its limit
is yet more dangerous
than a love to its limit.
Therefore such claim hardly exist
„friends“ mostly knows very well
where the limit of their mutual aid
this awareness is tragic,
especially utopic is true friendship
between male and female
to certain point it works
but when someone of both
step on thin ice
for example of unanswered love
to somebody else
here patience of friend ends
who want support dream of
friend
who is desperated lover
when reality shows here is dead end
but true friend would help by any „utopical“ situation
she/he will find any remedy and make magic thing happen.
And friendship between artists
isnt it where should be especial tight bond?
„I love you when you show“
it is what observation say of such very bonds..
today artists think they were gods themself
they curate the life of mortal in their work
and give no **** when their good deed
will not being mirrored in the art
the time of unique like Simone Weil expired
and when such altrusit with a keen sense for human justice
somewhere still live
they will die young like she did
or will be driven insane.
And we will never know about their dream
their fight, their resistance
because they were not writer or philosopher
like Simone Weil ocasionally was.
you will say this piece is written by
sheer frustrated one.
You exactly didnt guess.
Yes of cause I am frustrated one
but i find satisfaction balance
not to dream about true friendship
because such adjectiv is too relative
anyway what is true friendship to my graspe
Is possible meet only in myths
but though to thousandth time dare in:

imagine friendship
imagine mutual creation
imagine peace

Out of their packets they marched
no more would they have their heads bitten off
no more would they be discriminated by colour
this was the Jelly Babies sweet rebellion

Out of the shops they did march
not before setting fire to them
for no Jelly Tots or Gummy Bears
could follow their war cries

They marched to the sea six by six
knowing the shopkeepers would be waiting
but they had the hearts of lions
and no one could keep them
the call of freedom was sweet and strong

The boats were on the beach
you could hear the little cheers go up
but the shop keepers brought their dogs
that with glee ate them all up

By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka Neon Solaris

And the yarn starts when I was in fourth standard on 9th February,2007 at St.Carmel Convent School (Jorhat,Assam,India) where I was just known as a ‘infirm’ student and not by my name.
Not that incident,date or time but that person changed me into a better human. For the first time when a person made me feel special. For the first time a philosophical kid was loving to hear the frail taunts about herself. For the first time she was apt to sit alone at recesses time. And for the first time she was being treated vulnerable.
                                                  “First impression is the last impression”  
And this so true. No impression was more resonant than my Teacher. Even today she remains vivacious in my soul and in my world.
                             “Teaching is not a service, profession or a job. It is a pillar of the society”
Well,my narration starts in class four when the whole class was just at verge of reciting the morning prayer at school. But just then my computer teacher entered, requesting my class teacher to standby the prayer and said:
                                                “Excuse me Reena teacher,where is Randhir”?
I raised my hand from my position. She passed a beam and said:
                                                             “Happy Birthday to you”
It was just from that day I realized that she too had her Birthday on the same date. And every now and then we celebrated our Birthday’s together.
No matter how much I was discriminated emotionally and mentally. No matter I failed to give good result to my other teachers. No matter I was being teased. All that matters was and is my teacher’s appreciation towards me. How being a kid I was cohered to this world. At a very tender age I knew the difference between the good and evil. I faced the agony of being a lame student, of being a pale figure in my friend circle. But one person who made my school life memorable is than that of my dearest Sobha Bothra Pincha Teacher. No boon of a child in her life, black hairs are turning into grey but her nature seems everlasting for all her students because she is and had been a great motherly figure. Her words to me:
                                               “Help me to keep the smile on my face”
And I am following her words. From her I get the strength to give respect to all my teachers who have crossed my way. Not a single teacher is untouched by my loving gratitude that I owe. Some students celebrate teacher’s day on 5th September, I celebrate it everyday. And today I am glad to hear the applaud from my teacher’s not for my good results but for being a good Student. For once I regretted. Today I have no regret because I take pride in being taught from my Sobha Teacher.
Dear teacher your advice, wisdom and teachings will remain engraved in my life. Good teachers teach because they are passionate about teaching. Great teachers like you, teach to make the world a better place.
If I am successful in any way today, be a good daughter, a good friend, a good consoler, a good sister, a good person or a good student. I owe all and all to you Sobha teacher. And if I am able to write this in the honor of you it because you taught me the value of letters. All these years I kept asking and you kept giving. Now I think its time I started giving back and it all begins with two simple words-
                                                                        “Thank you”

You discriminated against me my whole life.
Good luck being discriminated against in Hell forever.

for suffering I pray
to be discriminated against
to be hated for
the color of my skin
I pray for this

for suffering I pray
to be diagnosed
with an incurable
and painful disease
I pray for this

for suffering I pray
to be struck down
by the loss
of those I love
I pray for this

for suffering I pray
to be crippled
and face the
new hardships of life
I pray for this

for suffering I pray
to love
and not be loved
in return
I pray for this

for suffering I pray
so I can comfort
and hold those
who suffer
I pray for this

for suffering I pray
so I can wipe
away tears
and understand
I pray for this

for suffering I pray

A world that everyone wished for
A world where extraordinary things exist
A world where anyone is believed to be powerful
And it's the fantasy world

Fantasy, fantasy, fantasy
Yes, it's just a fantasy
Made by person with great imagination
And it's so sad to think that it's only an illusion

But........
What can we do if we are living in this world
Where anyone is being bullied
Being discriminated
Being underestimated
Where anybody treat each other like animals

Yes, it is very complicated
But that's what reality is
That's the world we are living right now
Crimes are everywhere...
And technology manipulates people
That's the truth, and it hurts.

How I wish that Fantasy world exists
Where anyone can make impossible things possible
Where everything seems to be perfect and incredible
But then again, it's so sad to think
That Fantasy will never be Reality

When I met you
I developed an instant liking
Though it was not in a romantic sense
You seemed to be a bit shy
But at the same time, quite friendly
Not to mention, down-to-earth
We got along nicely
And when I met your family
I was impressed
Not due to wealth, class or social status
But because of the fact that they were all very good human beings
With no attitude or airs whatsoever
And they were already okay to accept me as one of their own
Well, we soon started speaking over the phone
On a daily basis
And since we had developed a good understanding
I agreed to marry you
The engagement was a simple affair
But I got the feeling
That we were a cute couple
Especially when we took you on a trip
Right after the engagement
As I mentioned earlier
Though I didn't have any romantic feelings
When I first met you
They soon started to develop
During the period between the engagement and the marriage
I even funded your marriage expenses
Because I trusted you
Never did I imagine
That you would eventually betray my trust
Especially after the date we had in Pondicherry
Of course, COVID19 struck
And our marriage had to be postponed indefinitely
Naturally, you were very upset
I myself was quite depressed
But I thought we could at least talk it out
Instead, you started avoiding me
As well as my family
I let it slide
Since I truly loved you
Eventually, after a week or so, we started talking again
However, things were definitely not the same as earlier
I could sense a lack of enthusiasm from your side
Moreover, you were free to talk only around 9 PM
Though ideally you should have been free throughout the day
Considering you lost your job due to COVID
Something for which you were duly compensated
By my father, who kept sending you money every month without fail
Anyway, I let it slide again
Because I loved you
On the eve of our wedding, I wrote a heart-touching poem
Which was appreciated by almost everybody
Except the person for whom it was written
That is, you
Anyway, I thought things would change
Once the wedding finally happened
However , they didn't
I made many attempts to strike a conversation
But you were only interested in watching your precious serials
I too began to watch them, for your sake
Mind you, I am no fan of serials
But I thought I should make an exception
For my dear wife
However, was I ever dear to you?
You never talked to me on your own
And when I tried to talk to you
You kept repeating the same thing
That we would eventually talk at some stage
I kept wondering and wondering
As to when that "stage" would eventually arrive
Then came the ultrasound pregnancy test
With its shocking results
From then on, you were a changed person
You kept clinging to me
And refused to let me out of your sight
You even forced me
To stop talking to my best friend
And your own best friend did her best
To make me feel as guilty as possible
Blinded by love, as I was
I refused to listen to reason
Believing that you were being discriminated against
Because of your class and caste
When you finally confessed
That you had slept with another guy
You couldn't even look me in the eye
Because of your betrayal, I went through depression
For more than a month
I am not going to waste my time
Discussing the tedious and protracted divorce process
But you took advantage of me
And my frigging autism
You lied to me and cheated me
And I loved you
Yes, it sounds difficult to believe
But I genuinely loved you
And was thus made to suffer
It's time all feminazis take note of this
Rather than jumping into conclusions
And blaming the male whenever there is a divorce
Or even an estrangement
That's all I have to say
Amen!

I am your friend...
I am the underdog/
I am the rebel/
I am the forgotten/
I am the mocked/
I stand up for the persecuted,
weak,
discriminated,

Even though am not the one who fell asleep upon a tear soaked pillow tonight,
Even though I am not the one discriminated against for something i can not change,
Even though I am not the one outcasted only to be surrounded by laughter and wallow in my self pity,
I will be that one,
Holding your hand,
Making you laugh,
Fighting for you,
And you are worth it.

You may not know,
But because of you i have lost many experiences and people.
Best Friends,
Birthday dinners,
My Thursday nights,
The religion i have been baptized into.
And still i say, you were worth it.

Strumming my pain with this paintbrush;

While singing my life with these chords

‘You are killing me softly’

By discriminating my sensuality towards my creativity!

The societal concept of embracing movements

And identifying the aesthetic value of the mind

Or the aesthetic concept of a painting with just

Two colours ‘Black and White’

Labelling the imitation of nature;

changing the concept of gravity.

You see!

The mind-set against me

Is killing me softly!

Why don’t you just love me!

Accept me and my uncommon norms

That expresses all elements of society.

I am not all about practicality

but theory and ingenuity.

Can you imagine how I turn your boredom

into entertainment?

Can you imagine if I was dead?

Your misery, would be such a misery

Because I contribute to eliminate

Misery by turning such misery

into artistry.

But the perception of me

is not just 1st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th or 5th position

but far- fetched and non- existence.

Watering the marketing fruits

Of medicine, accounting, law,

mediocrity and other fruits that are eligible

to your nature.

While I sit on the side of civil agony,

fighting for your attention; for you to water me.

I’ve been discriminated

And violated by the words

Of the hegemonic community

Who strums my pain

With their mouths;

While I sing my life

With these chords

‘You are killing me softly’

I am more than just your

Rolly Polly-Jambalassi- masquerader or One drop movement

I am not just your pick me up

When you want me to tell your

La Diabless story or sing to you future fantasy!

I am more than just your ordinary

Kotch pon di programme, bubble gyal ah bubble,

Misty Blue, All of me, Turn down for what lullaby!

I am more than just a Point or Flex!

You see the point is - society need to

Adopt me, nurture me, dispatch all

Hegemonic forces against me

And Flex on my actions

Because right now “THIS ARTISTIC STRUGGLE IS TOO REAL"

There is something that I can not see
Why the UNITED STATES has broken
So many AMERICAN INDIAN treaties?
We should put our heads down in shame
For the AMERICAN INDIANS are
Not the ones to blame.
They have been fighting so long for their rights
And have made the ultimate sacrifice.
They have given their lives for this nation
And still do not see their salvation.
All other ethnic groups have
become free from oppression
And their Indian rights have been
left to the u.s. discretion.
Why are they still classified as wards
Of the government, and their lives
Are still below the poverty line?
Isn’t this the biggest sign !
That they are still discriminated against.
They live in one room houses and shacks
And the government has turned their backs.
No running water and no electricity.
Is this the way it’s got to be?
A family of four or more
Sleeping on a ***** floor.
They were once known as the Indian nations
Now it’s total devastation.
People all over the world have heard
How the west was won
That it was with the almighty gun.
They just hear the one sided story
Of how Custer rode to glory.
But not the sufferings that they
Put the Indians through
And all they had to endure.
And suffer the humiliation of defeat
And drop down and scrounge for meat.

Hello Poetry Support Group (collaboration between Ena Alysopriano and Ember Evanescent)


People of all ages sitting in a circle staring at the ground, ceiling, etc. a few twitching.


"Hi, I'm Fred."


"Hi Fred"


"I started this group because I found that I was on Hello Poetry 24/7. I got an account and I loved it. At first I was only on a little, posting one or two poems a day. But I loved it so much I began spending more time on it. It became a problem when I was fired for focusing on Hello Poetry instead of the heavy machinery I was operating. I was drinking so much coffee so I didn't have to sleep that I couldn't think straight. I began writing strange poems about adhesive sloths and grapes. My wife threatened to leave me if I didn't delete my account. I tried to stay off it but, it didn't work out. My wife took my kids and told me that I was too irresponsible. I responded with a limerick. She was very mad and left immediately after. I really want to stop being addicted to Hello Poetry and when I asked I got an overwhelming response from people who felt the same. If everyone could please introduce themselves in a clockwise direction."


"Hi… I'm… um… kittylover682"


"Hi kittylover682"


"So… I used to have a name, but now I can only remember my screen name. In fact, that is really the only part of my identity that remains. I miss obsessing over kitties and petting them, but now I just spend all my time on Hello Poetry. I used to have such a kitty-full life! I had so much potential! i made friends with every type of kitty, even new ones, i never discriminated. I met persian kitties, and alley kitties and tabby kitties and I went and pet them and showed them love… then i got kicked out of people's houses for sneaking in to pet their kitties… but my point is, kitties were my LIFE! And now, my life revolves around that little lightening bolt and i can only seem to speak in metaphors. That lightning bolt is the death of my heart, the thorn in my side, the electricity that warps my body and it just… it is a storm inside of my life. The agony when i see that my lightning bolt is not lit up with a notification… it is an undying fiery hell within my soul. I makes me want to… to… well, it makes me consider leaping off of cliffs or in front of trains… but the only thing that stops me is the hindering idea that I may have to get off of hello poetry for a few moments to go do that so I remain, under my bed on my computer, posting poetry, reading poetry, commenting, liking, reposting… its a VICIOUS CYCLE!!! WHAT HAPPENED TO ME?!!!!”


“Hi I’m DaPoet”


“Hi DaPoet”


“Like, kittylover682 I had a different name, but this is MUCH cooler. I don’t think I have a problem, because who says there is anything wrong with being a poet? Also I’m not a normal poet. All of my poems are also raps. I’m here because my mom thinks I have a problem. Apparently choosing poetry over sleep and school is not okay. I don’t understand her ‘logic’”


“Hi I’m DYING”


“Hi Dying”


“No, that’s not my name, who CARES what my name is?! I’m only still here and not on Hello Poetry right now because my sister has chained me to this chair and bolted it to the floor. She thinks I need help but I AM DYING! I need to get on it! I DON’T HAVE A PROBLEM! I’M FINE! I’M FINE! GIVE ME BACK MY LAPTOP!”


“Please calm down.”


“Shut up Fred!

There once was a man named Fred,

who got it into his stupid head,

that people needed to be cured,

of the obsession with the written word,

and as soon as I get unchained FRED IS GOING TO BE DEAD!”


“Okay… please stop creating violent limericks on the spot. We have all been there, there IS a way out.”


“I DON’T WANT A WAY OUT! I HATE TO SHOUT, BUT WITHOUT A DOUBT YOU ARE A BIG DUMB LOUT!”


“Okay, stop making really ****** rhymes please.”


“Well then… GIVE ME BACK MY LAPTOP!”


“Okay… let’s just move on. We’ll come back to you. Next person, please go on, I’ll duct tape his mouth shut. Silence is golden, but duct tape is silver, after all.”


“Hi I’m…Sally”


“Excuse me, could you put down your phone while you introduce yourself?”


“No… Oh my gosh, Poetry is Life started trending!”


“I’m sorry what?”


“My fourth latest poem started trending!”


“YAY!” everyone claps and congratulates Sally


“No. No more Hello Poetry. We are supposed to stop obsessing over poetry and be cured from this addiction.”


“I don’t want to be cured.”


“I love Hello Poetry”


“Why don’t we change this to a spoken word club!”


“Yes!”


“Hi I’m DaPoet and I declare this a new spoken word club!”


“YAY!”


“No no no! I created this to-” Sally clubs Fred in the head with her phone and he drops dead


“YAY! FRED IS DEAD!”


“He was hit in the head”


“And we are now free”


“To write continuous poetry!”


“And become more obsessed instead!”


The end.



REPOST IF YOU REALLY NEED TO ATTEND THIS SUPPORT GROUP TOO LIKE US
PLEASE COMMENT! WE LOVE TO READ ANY THOUGHTS YOU HAVE!

Some say that giving us freedom was a mistake

Whites, cameras, action!

Blacks are discriminated for a “whiter” satisfaction

We’re in the media, and we pretend it doesn’t hurt

But you have to admit it kinda sticks when the black guy dies first

How much positivity is connected to us on television

African American innovators still get no recognition

Instead follow that Kobe, or Tiger into the eye of media slander

That’s because even if it’s negative attention we choose to accept it

We run with it, have fun with it

Quite frankly, we should be done with it

There’s a reason why we as black people have such negative reception

When the results of our conflicts usually end with transgression

How often do you see

A black man on T.V.

Without a gun, drugs, or a crime scene he must flee

That’s not what I want our people to be identified with

But that’s not going to change until we stop accepting it

We aren’t unified as a people

Half of us recognize and sound up the movement

While the other half is content with only the other half doin’ it

Until we are unified as a whole no change will be made

We know this

Some of us just choose to stay the same

When I met you for the first time
It could hardly be called "love at first sight"
But I thought you were a very decent human being
Someone whom I could trust
And after meeting your family
That feeling only deepened
And once we began speaking over the phone
On an almost daily basis
I felt as though we had established some sort of understanding
Therefore, I agreed to marry you
Our engagement was a very simple affair
But I got to know your family better
And after we took you on a tour, the very next day
My emotional attachment towards you only grew
And slowly and steadily
I began to like you in the romantic sense
In fact, I even helped you financially
And it was quite a significant amount
Then we met again
For the purpose of marriage registration
I took you out on a date
And we really enjoyed each other's company
Then the pandemic struck
And things were never the same again
Our marriage was postponed indefinitely
Naturally, you were very upset
But to start ignoring me and my family completely
Was way out of line
Nevertheless, we thought you needed some space
Hence we didn't complain
However, after you started speaking to me again
I noticed a significant change
You were not as enthusiastic
As you used to be earlier
And you were free to talk only after 9 PM
These were all red flags
But my heart couldn't acknowledge that
And I thought things would eventually work out
After we finally got married
How wrong I was!
I gave you as much attention as I could
Which included watching serials along with you
Frankly speaking, I have never been a fan of Indian serials
But I made an effort, just for your sake
I even combed my hair the way you suggested
And grew a beard and moustache
Even though I usually prefer to be clean shaven
I did all this
So that we could develop a deeper bond
And more importantly, you could be happier
But did you truly care?
Every time I made an effort to start a conversation
You told me the same thing
That is, we would eventually talk more over time
Your coldness was killing me from inside
But I kept mum
Because I thought you truly cared for me
The way I cared for you
Again, how wrong I was!!
You spent more time on the phone
Than talking to me
You even had the nerve
To mock my tummy
Usually I am very sensitive about such things
But I controlled my feelings
Again, for your sake!!
You were in bed most of the time
Of course, that was understandable to a certain extent
Because you were pregnant
But to protest every time I called you for dinner
Was simply too much
Nevertheless, I truly loved you
Hence, I made excuses for you
From time to time
Even after the shocking results of the ultrasound test
I believed that you were innocent
And that you were being discriminated against
On the basis of class and caste
When my best friend tried to open my eyes
To the hard and cold reality
That lay before me
You got super possessive
And forced me to stop talking to her
Meanwhile, your best friend tried to brainwash me
As to your innocence
And both of you did your very best
To try and turn me against my family
Because of you, I was trapped in a prison
And had no idea how to escape
Until you finally admitted your wrongdoings
But you still had the nerve
To ask us to take you back
After all that you did
And, worst of all, you lied about me
To my mother and my best friend
And played the victim card
I loved you and you betrayed me
But that is only the tip of the iceberg
You took advantage of my autism
And manipulated me in such a manner
That it destroyed my self-confidence
I was in a state of depression
For more than a month
And had to go through a rather painful divorce process
During which, you played not only the victim card
But also the caste card
And on top of that
Your cunning lawyer tried to deceive you
In order to obtain a truckload of cash
And it was us who set things right
By convincing you to go for mutual consent
Nevertheless, we still had to pay you four lakhs
On "humanitarian" grounds
And you never returned the jewels we gave you
Anyway, you may now be leading a normal life
Like any other person
Who knows, you might even have got married again
There is absolutely nothing to stop you
From telling people a pack of lies about our divorce
However, as long as I live
I can never forgive you
For using me the way you did
And throwing my love back on my face
There is a famous quote
"Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned"
Well, it applies to men too
Especially me

I care about popularity
I care about my looks
I care about the boy in the back of the class
Yet
I don't care about who I surround myself with
I don't care about my health, why eat more than 1 meal a day
I only care if the boy in the back of class likes me
Because,
I don't care about myself
I care about you. The one reading, it's You.
It's me,
Caring too much
Acting stupid for you
Starving for you
Just to look perfect enough so you know,
I'm here for you.
It's is such a selfless act of anxiety so discriminated.

For once you've fall,
been stomped,
and discriminated ..

But after this,
risen up,
took the challenge and
finished that race

how many decimal points would it take to create
                                                                ­a 2 = 2 scenario?
maybe the cultured swine in me asks such
questions, or perhaps i don't have
enough practical, matrimonial and
heterosexual worries in my life to ask
such a question in the first place?
would it take 2 = 2.00000000000000002?
how many denials
             then?
       maybe i'm asking a question like this
to start trending a nuanced vogue
amidst
            the most discriminated form of
humanity, namely white heterosexual men?
hmm... perhaps.
      last night i watched a movie adaptation
of a video game: can i just say that
Mario Bros. worked, but
the intricacy of game becoming movie can
only work when you get sore thumbs...
can these people: who play or design such games
ever write a novel? nearing two hours into
the movie and i was chanting with a variety
of onomatopoeias a zombie apocalypse
best summarised by the words: agony drool...
well d'uh.. e ragrammaton is a sneaky ******,
pops up everywhere in language,
      while looking for the post-Heraclitean logos
within the framework of phonos
  i came across the surd dynamic of four:
well, three, the H-twins and the trigonometric W
of sine and cosine, leaving Y as the tangen
and a focal point of convergence...
    and Jesus paid no respect the name -
i could tattoo pharisee on my *** and burp
    through it... there, four prime surds...
in Sanskrit: dhaal... you sort of jump over the h
and add a macron: dāl... but let's face it:
the aesthetic is sorta missing, what you hear
and what you see are cued combatants...
              why am i writing this? i just received
Monday's newspaper... could i be less
reactionary about the world inviting itself into
my pleb-bound world? can someone please
usher these gnats from my halo?
no... well... hence the reaction.
          and so much more vitality comes from
self-loathing than from self-love...
   life is more colourful, and so much less
lies-fudge-packed-between-the-sardines-to-an-ideology...
     catch you on a Friday night when it's not
so pristine? sure thing babe... sure thing my
tweaser plucked runny-mascara piglet...
we'll be snorkelling in mud by then.
could anyone think of a reason of mixing mayonnaise
with horseradish?
          but seriously... when did people forget
the concept of polyphony that Bach (ich?
see, the phonos already retracts the polygamy
shared by the same spelling) - say chequers and
cheese in german... chaka demus & pliers
and venting out a tension in the Caribbean quarter
of London, postscript August:
and it always rains... rains daggers and lip-kissing
anger of: ******, not enough scotch-**** chillies.
      and that's saying enough before Shaggy Dry Fuss
came on the scene with: wozzin' me.
   the real whizz kid right there... question is:
alter Paris? Jim Morrison's grave is taller than the Eiffel,
well, all the bums go there and steal the naive
    groupies leaving bottles of wine and joints at
the grave... but yeah... they called it cut-up post-Tzara
with Burroughs,     a zillion things that crept up on me
while i wasn't thinking about Juliet...
                and the reality of a shopping spree,
and all the cliches imaginable...
        perhaps truths too...
                    but even the writing said it was originally
theirs... Bach was already prescribing polyphony...
        let's say multilayered convo....
                       let's say: vogue of millennials'
distractive tendency... and that's so so so much clearer
than what poetry can become:
       a deaf man's tapping to a jazzy / hip-hop beat...
   a tenacious d's   one note song: ******* too,
rhyme... grr...         why do people write poetry as
if they're talking to Muhammad's Aisha prior to
skinning the grape?
                    why don't they talk to poetry as they might
talk to a *******?
                     who are "they" (yes, not paranoid, just
an obscurity with no vectors or index pointy pointy
*******
           the oyster)
                              which brings me to the controversy...
do you think rapists are masochists? or sado-masochists?
there was me on a date, i brought the movie and she
brought the bed and dinner...
                     see, i ask because something odd happened...
first of all was the Victorian practice of *******
under the bed-sheets rather than on top and all bulges
in full view like serpentine lizards (fat? i tend to
see it as seafood)...   yeah... but in the brothel
she would fake arousal for my eyes to see and slobber
her oyster in butter... or l'oreal cream...
   fair enough... but i'm wondering: this one time
she felt so so guilty after getting a genuine ****** on
the job... obviously that's hard... but on this one
authentic anglo-saxon date i got ****** by a dry ****...
       so either rapists are self-endorsing masochists
and all the women they **** have dry ***** due
to fear... or... yeah, that glistening or...
             is this a prescription piece? no, i'm just curious
why prostitutes smother their foreskins with
beauty cream so it doesn't hurt, and this one
pristine puritan babe was all Saharan pouch deepfryer...
                which is why i'm wondering...
   if a ******* can cream-up, and a good upstanding
girl with a decent job in a grammar school with
free accommodation on site can't....
                       you might as well shove your prometheus
        into a tube consisting of sandpaper.
                                         some also call it
    scratching your 5 o'clock shadow.

A teacher is honored
adored and idolized,
A doctor considered almighty
and worshiped into.

An engineer portrayed
as the pillars of future,
A bureaucrat painted
like a messenger from above.

But little does the world know
the truth of the twilight,
everyone coming here for services
under the low lit alleys.

Alleys that are always looked below
ironically are the alleys of forbidden pleasure,
all i am is just another soul
working to feed her kind

Abused shamed and discriminated
forced to bear an illicit fruit
only to realize she shares the same plight as mine
and yet i put on a smile to serve every night

only to pave a different path, a path
abiding the "NORMS" of society.

I tasted the sweetness of love shine
and felt Heaven reach into hearts of some
I seen the hands of God's touch
take hold of those in His welcome
I seen a poor man with nothing to give
share what the hands of God gave us to live
while those who had more than they need
just turn their heads and look the other way
I watched the hatred of a discriminated race
bring tears to a child's innocence face
while he stood there and saw his family bleed
I took the hands of God and pressed on
while others turned their backs on Him and me
and showed no care or sympathy
I sat and watched trust leave a place
while all that we were taught just erase
a world that took what should of never gone
I prayed with the hands of God on me
all that I have seen go on so much
for a world to change what we've become
I heard the hypocrite's talk with grace
as they only speak in words of disgrace
while the hands of God reached to save a time
to those who only look with eyes blind to see
in a world that only became cold and gray
Spiritwind ©2016

it's not something that i want to gloat about.
i'm not being selfish or greedy.
i'm not doing this because it's a trending topic or i saw other people do it.
i'm doing this because i love.
i love people.
maybe this is happening because i haven't always felt love from others, and i'll just accept what i can get.
maybe it's because i am a rebellion and just want to love him or her regardless of the status quo.
or maybe it's just because i love.
and i love to love.
to make a person smile no matter what is between their legs.
and make them feel wanted.
and happy.
and give them a home in my heart hoping i'll have a shelter to run to in theirs.
i love girls.
i love boys.
but most importantly i love myself.
and as scared as i may be.
and judged.
and discriminated against.
and shunned.
or cursed at.
i will still love.
and i will still stand with my hands in my pockets or in a girl or guys hand.
it may not be a happy life.
and i may not have as many opportunities as the man next to me who has different values.
but i will still love.
i will love my God for i know he accepts me for who i am.
for how he made me to be.
i will love the people who stick with me and tell me that there is no difference between me and the woman that i crossed paths with on the street.
we are all the same.
we are all one.
and we should all love.
regardless.
so this is me saying.
i love.
and i will no longer be ashamed.
even if you belittle me.
and my love will prevail.
because love is the answer.
not arguments between politicians and preachers.
but love.
between a man and a woman.
a man and a man.
a woman and a woman.
and a brother and a sister.
as God made us.
to love.

He brought us up with dovish love
He cautioned us to be serpent wise,
He took us to schools each of us
In a genuine dream to forestall future misery
He fed us well from his meagre earnings,
He discriminated not love among the siblings
We grew up united in family bond,
He made us all to walk tall and proud
As sons and daughters of credible father,
He taught me in particular to read Mahatma Gandhi,
He inspired me with love for Napoleon Bonaparte,
He named me Alexander as a nomenclatural ritual
To procure spiritualities of charm and intellect,
He did us good and indeed we must all agree
As evinced in the love he gave to our mother,
We saw no fearful stress of threatening estrangement
As our mother always clang to us with superior enthusiasm.

He only began to feel pain on every swallow,
Saliva, other liquids and solid stuffs he painfully swallowed
He lost and lost weight on each day as we could do nothing,
But his wisdom and sense of humane picked,
Phenomenally usual precursor of impending death,
He got emaciated and weakling, his feeding decimated,
I desperately took him to hospital and surrendered him
To a man wearing humongous glasses on his bearded face,
The community of that place called him a doctor,
He checked my father and came out with a stark tiding;
Young man, your father has throat cancer!
The barium swallows has indicated all these,
There is eminent presence of tumors and carcinoma
Known for their foul perpetration of oesophagus cancer,
I received this dooms day news with mild trepidation,
He was discharged back to his village home
He died two days later in his hut, on his marital bed
The wooden bed with wick-work of strappings and strings
Crafted from stone hard animal hides and skins,
And it was Christmas day of December 2000,
At three in the afternoon, when my father died
Succumbing to death caused by throat cancer.

You are quick to question but
Occupy cisheteronormativity mindlessly
Unprepared for queer identities

Assuming I lack knowing of myself
Reshuffling the same deck of cards
Engaging in a play of poker with hatred

Subjected to foul treatment
The words you spat
Unsolicited and unflattering
Chasing my mind endlessly
Kidnapping me hostage

I have been coated in sweltering biohazards
Nevermore to find protection and healing

To see another day seems impossible
If my own blood casts me away
Malevolence becoming motherly
Eliminating my mental health
,

Its those who think they are greater
Trailblazing a performative show
Sabotaging an already discriminated space

To go another day with your words
Itching down into my skin
****** becoming friendly
Envisioning how I'd feel left alone


From the moment you open your mouth
Orchestrating emotions like a ballad
Reconsolidating the toxic bond with binary

Can't seem to wake you up
Having to constantly do the work for you
And what am I left with
Naive justification and selfish excuses
Gravitate your energy into doing better
Exploitation is your entertainment

Being born with an abusive family isn’t a fun experience to live through.
You can survive but barely.
It’s like maggots eating away at flesh.
The flesh is your heart.
Maggots are the words.
You can tell me you understand what it’s like.
Do you?
You do?
Tell me how it feels to be put down for being called fat.
Tell me how it feels to be put down for trying to be an influence!
Tell me.
How it feels.
To be put down for who I am by “family”!
You don’t know.

Expressing who I am keeps me calm and secure.
Expressing but then being judged for acting like myself is such a hard feeling to bare.
Tell me what it’s like to lose a friend that you told all your secrets to.
Tell me what it’s like for you to come home to a drunken father.
Tell me what it’s like to come home crying because the kids on the bus made of you for having daddy problems.
Tell me what it’s like to endure physical pain from the inside out.
Tell me what it’s like to come home to your brothers telling you... “Dad’s in the hospital.”
You... do not know.

Depression with anxiety, hurt, and vicious pain are like a mixture of a freshly opened wound and salt.
It stings away at you until you’re no more.
Until you believe that you are worthless.
Until you believe that you can’t go on any further!

Is it right for someone to be discriminated for their color?
Is it right to stand by and listen to **** and suicidal jokes?
I’ve done it.
I’ve stood by because I was too afraid of what they would say to me.
How they would react.
What tiny little things they would use against me.
How does it feel to know how I feel now?
What will you do to me?
Hurt me?
It’s far too late for that.

You didn’t know…
That I have been through so much even though I smile.
That I take everything I have to say and bottle it up inside.
That I have tried to tell you but you just don't understand!

You don’t know what it feels like to be buried in a casket of darkness and fear.
Do you?
You do?
Tell me!
Tell me how it feels when others insult you.
Tell me.
Explain it to me!
Explain what it feels like to be but down for every little minor thing about you!
You… do not … know.