"districts" poems
MAMA DON’T ALLOW
Mama don’t allow no carpetbaggers ‘round here
Mama don’t allow no carpetbaggers ‘round here
We care a lot what Mama will allow
Carpetbaggers ain’t no good no how.
Mama don’t allow no carpetbaggers ‘round here.
Mama don’t allow no gerrymandering here
Mama don’t allow no gerrymandering here
We give a hoot what Mama will allow
Leave districts right where they are right now.
Mama don’t allow no gerrymandering here.
Mama don’t allow no poll taxing ‘round here.
Mama don’t allow no poll taxing ‘round here.
We don’t need Jim Crow no more
We know just what that is for
Mama don’t allow no poll taxing ‘round here.
Mama don’t allow no warmongering here
Mama don’t allow no warmongering here
We care a lot what Mama will allow
We’ve had too much war, don’t start no row.
Mama don’t allow no warmongering here.
Mama don’t allow no segregating ‘round here.
Mama don’t allow no segregating ‘round here.
Mama says we all take a breath
We all got born and all face death
Mama don’t allow no segregating ‘round here.
Brent Kincaid
5/15/2015
May 15, 2015
May 15, 2015 at 7:57 PM UTC
On its back,
The cockroach,
In a jacket of red wings,
Slender legs,
And bulging abdomen,
Like the tummy of African statesman,
Its legs wallowing in despair,
In the air,
Stamping the spread eagled,
Hind and forelimbs,
Of the poor anthropod,
Kicking and waving,
A cry for the succor,
To be freed from ebola,
Or breaking the *** tether,
Or un-doing strong bonds of poverty,
Three districts under leprosy,
In the domain of the bull’s eye,
Where lesbians and gays swallow raw fate,
Its salient manifestation,
Then the cockroach kicks silently,
Anticipating for salvage,
But when the domain owner comes,
He steps with full weight,
His foot dressed in military boots,
From the previous legacy of Che Gue Vara,
On the belly of the kakerlag at Berlin Wall,
Bursting its stomach but hopscotch,
Spilling the white stuff out,
Of poverty and mental dilemma,
Amid hopelessness in future and history,
As terrorism mires tomorrow,
When China reigns today,
At mercy of contemporary panjandrums,
Moving from white to black
And from black to face book,
Killing those who fall in commercial love,
As if money is the ***** for nuptial night,
But only to go forth ignobled,
Without making momentous affinity,
In the realm of ill fated cockroach back-dom,
Sending Mafousian Egypt to Swedish table,
Without scorn and regard for true African blood,
Where will I apologize?
If the ****** bug
Enters my head and heart,
To blind my logical eyes,
Only to open wide
The senses that see and feel
Religion and race; O! Al Qaeda!
Dec 4, 2014
Dec 4, 2014 at 6:17 AM UTC
*We share our deficiencies:
A haven of sorrow and fury*
Friendly - they say hello
In mischief and spite.
Warm or cool under your feet
They swerve near nonchalant districts
And foamy lips
Destructive - they leave without saying goodbye
A routine they developed
Over the series of washed up regrets
And maroon sediments
Attached - they stick like superglue
To the pang they forgot to tell you about
They leave and take a part with them
And inevitably imprint themselves onto you
*We share our deficiencies:
A haven of sorrow and fury*
Apr 9, 2014
Apr 9, 2014 at 12:10 PM UTC
The wind blows and I can feel the breeze running through my spine,
I sit there in the shade of the giant oak tree that grandma Glenda planted here back when she was my age.
I was reading "Mocking Jay," by Suzanne Collins,
I feel like every time Katniss talked about bringing peace to all the districts this is what she pictured.
Quietness; happiness; tranquillity.
That's all I felt.
Like nothing in the world could hurt me, like my body and my mind had left me and all I had to do was sit back, relax, and enjoy my favorite book.
The wind blowing, the kids playing, the birds all in harmony as they sing,
With all this beauty in one moment, it's crazy that some people don't just enjoy the little things.
Feb 27, 2015
Feb 27, 2015 at 2:09 PM UTC
I paused the movie to hear the couple fighting outside.
She said "You haven't talked to me at all tonight!"
and he said "What?"
But I know what they really meant to say was "I get stupid when I see you and I don't know what to do about it."
Then she slapped him and ran back inside crying.
It was an awkward moment for me in someone else's life.
It made me think about the video on how penguins mate forever.
And about how we're not penguins and how monogamy makes promises like traps
And how the only thing we have in common with penguins
is that we give each other rocks
and that means I love you until the sun explodes.
And how?
How come penguins can get it more right than us?
They can't even fly.
And when I watched this kid clutch his face as he wondered what he did wrong,
I can't help but ******* hate
all the happy penguins for him.
You stupid penguins,
you all look like you're going to a fancy party all the time
you stupid penguins
you run like your pants are down
you stupid penguins
you're gonna have someone to sit on the couch with forever
and you can't even fly!
What happens when you realize your penguin lover is immature
and he overeats the fish
and he's always late to things?
What happens when you realize your she-penguin has really bad penguin depression and you don't know how to deal with it?
What happens when you realize you both met too early and now you're different penguins?
I'll tell you what happens.
They stay together.
You know why?
Because he gave her a ROCK.
That's why.
Because, to penguins
rocks mean more than mortgages
and wanting to go to Hawaii
and step children
and sprinklers
and school districts.
They can keep a marriage alive with some instincts
and a ******* egg to sit on.
PENGUINS
Stay together longer than 50% of any couple you've ever met
And they can't even fly!
But maybe a bird
that knows how to fall in love better than us
doesn't need to know how to do that.
Aug 23, 2012
Aug 23, 2012 at 6:17 PM UTC
i.
The sight of it brings back memories of
Your rival team, confronting you on the line of scrimmage,
The rain pouring down, stinging your face,
Your breath misting in the arctic air.
ii.
The smell of it brings you back to that Friday night
When you tripped up the bleachers and
Spilled popcorn all over yourself because
Her red hair and bright smile made you stop in your tracks.
iii.
The clang of the pins against each other
Follows you in the hallway wherever you go,
Reminding you of that triumphant feeling
That took over when your basketball team won districts.
iv.
The warm feeling that fills your heart when
You give it to her, the red-haired bright-smiled girl,
Matches the warm feeling she feels when she
Puts it on, drowning in your scent.
v.
You know that years later, after you’ve left high school
And everything about that place behind,
The sight of that jacket will bring back all the memories
Of football games, Friday nights, championships, and her.
Feb 19, 2019
Feb 19, 2019 at 5:06 PM UTC
Sophisticated creations created in sophistication
Humbly stumble your rocket ship upon us
Show us the ways of wisdom
The gears to greatness
Greetings from above…
Indescribably intuitive taking part of our tuition
Relaxing everybody with your percentages
Because everybody loves your mathematical mysteries mingling with minds mistaking us monitoring the minutes of our total misguidance
You guide us through that too…
Tactically tyrannical, democratically demonizing our demands
Demanding our demons
Because without the demons dictating our lusts as districts for us to be in
You are but a simple voice
Maybe so inhumanly loud and annoying
But incompetent
Powerless…that freaks you out…
Notorious nuzzles nurturing our children
Not so new of an idea
Because were used to getting
Tips of our rights smuggled through the windows you chose to open
Then smile and wave from up there
Because being like us is too mainstream
Becoming like us is an impossibility possible only when you become wood
Stiff wood
Moving around on shoulders
Standing in line on
The borders
Of dirt and human form
Following your followers with flowers on top of you facilitating your families fascinations that yes, youre gonna be alright down under
Flashback to the fudemental moments of your life
And you’ll realize
It’s when you killed the father
Suffocated the mother
Ripped the brother apart
And told the son…hey let me help you
But this is when you die…
If we all **** you in our minds youre dead
And only then…would “up there” be nothing but a shameful figure
Rather than a worshiped emblem of total **********
And only then…would we gain life…
May 5, 2013
May 5, 2013 at 6:05 PM UTC
Does it sting you if I tell you, you're a ****** a thief, and a liar by association?
Sure you've been convicted and you wear your prison tags with pride
This is not a tale, this is not for your entertainment, I'm talking about you!
Wearing your abercrombie and fitch, am I interrupting the call on your iphone!
Sure what you buy has been cleansed to hide the stench of blood and sweat
Do you know where it's made? Do you care about those who made it?
Think you got it bad? Wait until you see factory workers cry!
They can't because their tears dehydrate their malnourished bodies
Your thinking its alright to be at ease, better think twice
Panic, your self-preservation is not safe, your body's agency will soon give way
Living in ghettos, urban centers, metropolises, seeking comfort among congestion
Depositories for the excesses of humanity, fresh produce scarce, drugs plenty
Commercial, social, fashion districts hiding alley ways and misery
Mar 14, 2013
Mar 14, 2013 at 12:29 AM UTC
I look back.
A dad, a sister, a brother, a mom.
Moving five, seven, no, thirteen times.
A father gone,
A sister to school.
Another stepdad,
No three boyfriends.
Of all, two criminals.
I look back more.
Three, four, school districts.
You promised one final.
Promise not kept.
I’m sixteen.
My first car, breaks.
My second car, breaks.
My third car, Mom breaks.
One, three, four attempts.
Goodnight.
I break; But looking back
It could have been worse.
No dad, no mom;
Just brother and sister.
At least I have three.
Goodnight.
Apr 1, 2016
Apr 1, 2016 at 11:33 AM UTC
On the playgrounds of the future
Children will laugh and sing
And we’ll cross the bridge to real peace
Where the bells of sanity shall ring
Until then we’ll play the game
Which will all add up to naught
“It’s your fault, no, it’s theirs…”
Why some fail at what is taught.
We’ve been given new books and bosses
Numerous regs to do the job
But money flows to the burbs
Inner-cities fair game to rob
Touching the future may seem easy
From a point too far away
One could assume it’s all just ditto -
Then lunch - then math - then play
If this is your belief
You could not be further from the fact
That success is measured forward
As we have our students’ back
So forward we will plod
Secretly teaching to the mean
We will test, and test and test
From which all congress shall glean
Information in nice neat form
Of bars and charts sublime
Symbolic of teachers and students
Who have been sentenced to hard time
And the monied districts shall rule
Golden in and out
And the bootstraps will appear
Accusing all who doubt
Good will be the words to spread
And many who will eat them
The failures will be shown the straps
But for pity’s sake, don’t beat them
G. Davis-Feldman
Sep 15, 2016
Sep 15, 2016 at 9:54 AM UTC
I walked all alone
a small city
sometimes
it dialects into
three districts
other times
I am lost
like a baby born
who has been put to live
they say we have free will
I laugh
with misery in me
my heart pounding
and I question why
I was born at all
I spent my lifetime
reading,
books are gentle friends
it is a give and take game
you isolate hours
and fall
with no consent
into another brain
whether it is dead or alive
you fall
you say you do not care
but you read and read
you feel less lonely
even though, you spend
your nights in your room
candles lit, your demons
are awake and they
are next to you
haunting you
3 AM and you are
still holding that book
wondering if you have
ever really existed
do or do not
right and wrong
does it matter?
you fly from your
third dimension
and throw yourself
in Andromeda
loneliness is eating
your insides
they think you are insane
but you are too woke
to stop nourishing your
brain, with whatever seems
boring and useless to the
majority.
But we are the minority,
we see the world the way it is.
May 24, 2019
May 24, 2019 at 2:00 PM UTC
country roads
highways
bridges
exhibiting a city in
kinematic frames
to pass
high speed
low speed
lit windows
a kitchen
a tv screen
a bedside lamp
curtains down
nobody's home
cottages
villages
overcrowded districts
dots and dots
each lit window
each turned off light
a story
a me
a us
they
lost
anonimously
as dots
in the distance
forgotten
Nov 28, 2014
Nov 28, 2014 at 7:06 PM UTC
Shell gas station with little neon green palm trees
perched upon the edge of the frenzied freeway,
a picture of plastic paradise
strewn with bright green lights
like spotlights of limelight
shedding light upon city life
never far from the dark side...
nearby, I spy
an assortment of street signs
to guide you into the night,
so turn right, & drive right
fly past the stoplight
into the glare of red light
& beware the districts of night life
Apr 7, 2017
Apr 7, 2017 at 12:58 PM UTC
The plaintive surround can rinse
the deep space crush of Hubble's
score.
A fast-paced bandit's sable cloth
homing the absurdum of a priceless
presentation...eyes unawares wending
brilliant ways abruptly announced.
The common Light is not passable--
but is in love with eyes...the holy of
holies--rarefied districts commencing
willful overexposure.
Dec 24, 2012
Dec 24, 2012 at 3:16 AM UTC
Who is this impostor,
glimpsed with horror
in the department store window?
He apes my movements
but fails to capture
their athleticism,
spring-loaded inside an easy grace.
Ladies and gentlemen, do not be deceived.
Disregard those who think they know me.
This shambling simulacrum
is not me.
Perhaps my Nobel prize
is just a might-have-been,
my endowments only imagined.
But I am who I want me to be.
All aboard for the unguided tour!
Already begun, pre-planned
by an unknown administrator,
its detailed itinerary remains unpublished.
The last stage is, they say, less delightful than the others.
It passes through the poorer districts;
one sees industrial squalor and boarded-up lives.
I can leave the tour at any time.
I am who I want me to be.
Discomfort and dissolution do not belong in my world.
I am not the kind of person to ever be distraught.
So oblivion shall not swallow my love's soul.
Not all at once,
not piece by piece.
Not even a little.
Her identity must not be corrupted.
We are who I want us to be.
Jun 20, 2013
Jun 20, 2013 at 7:00 AM UTC
*there you said it
i like you because..
you’re sensitive
me? sensitive? an ever mask
but maybe
with you
maybe
i can finally put that **** off
and i like you because..
you really want to
help me too
face the darkness
end a career i don’t like
the so called doctor
never voted for a strike
even though i never earned a penny
like these argentinian doctors
they help them in hospitals, many
in poor districts with poor people
because they have nothing
some not even a foot to stand
and the doctors have everything
they think
as if they differ mentally
they think there’s a difference
between such rich and poor
see nothing else
so they always ask for more
but nowadays
for me
it are just temporary words
a weak or strong one doesn't exist
because in weak times
we all need a superman
inclusive the man in red suit
even Peter Pan
one that comes with high speed
still questioning yourself
how superman has got so strong
what does superman actually need?
and now i say it
that from the day i met you
i felt it was different
than all these times before
because i simply can't compare
and on my lucky day, you just opened the door
the door of my cage so severe
this beast in me finally free
it felt so incredibly weird
new things to see
unusual, too
that someone thinks
and thinks pretty much like you
all you told me, so sincere
still questioning myself
where has this been before?
a burning soul like yours
maybe because i always fell for the poor
while you were being superman
all these years, wandering
sauntering through a poor land
you slammed
into exotic beaches
that started with leeches and ended with peaches,
beautiful flowers and grass, green beeches
planted on the edge of the deepest oceans in my heart*
Mar 31, 2015
Mar 31, 2015 at 2:31 PM UTC
To the entire genophobe society, how does it feel
To never be felt from the inside rubbed from the outside,
Never ever to feel pure ecstasy as another being from another society aside from yours
Wraps themselves around you like a bandage never ever to feel explosive feelings gyrating your body
Sending your into complete overdrive coming to a complete meltdown as it slows down
Driving you madly between the silky bed sheets
Devinely driving you like a Amazonian wilder beast out on the prowl
For fresh blood fresh meat, licking the lips of sweet nectar, chomping down on tangy bananas
Riveting I think that you fear what you have never once had
Is quite maddening, so give me some insight on how this deserts you from ever having a ****** preference
From either Guy on Guy/Girl on Girl/Guy on Girl ***********
While you're the main course serving you some delights from the garden of Eden
Giving or receiving money shot, drinking the cream of chicken
Sukki Sukki 5 dollar driving away from curbs of Forty-Second streets through red light districts
Climbing ****** while knees buckling, oh Lord I think I'm about to explode Fourth of July fireworks
As the world shakes beneath our four post bed with wrists tied mouth gagged with leather bindings.
Water sports if you are into that type of thing, just not my cup preferably DD sized **** but any size works
It's not the size that countsit's the motion of the ocean that really works.
Karma Sutra, ****** positions galore all within books at libraries
*** education taught by **** luster whores...Teachers thrown away for doing the outer limits
Just so they can have a moment of limelight without dancing around poles for dollar dollar bill ya’ll.
Now what makes you afraid, paddles whips chains
“Oh my, what a time!” a sadist would say to their delightful whims.
So be afraid be very afraid of the ****** world.
Apr 18, 2010
Apr 18, 2010 at 7:58 PM UTC
We the people,
floodwaters rising over Kansas City banks
and marketplace levies,
are channeled into rooms
the size and shape of shadows
to be given direction,
to give direction;
waiting our turn to be
churned through turbines.
Our mass is growing stagnant
by this massive
**** This feels like surrogate thinking.
Our water is wasted on greco-roman men
chopping up districts into blues and reds
dividing and conquering the ocean.
Sep 18, 2013
Sep 18, 2013 at 11:01 PM UTC
A city brewed with History
*A simmered *** of diversity*
An empire extended in streams
The devolution of solid districts
Prided with craftsmen and artisans
A showcase of nature at its core
Forested and iced mountain tops
Valleys plentiful of sweet waters
A greenery of wealth and Industrialism
A Romania of open heart and miracles
Cities of social capital, tourist destinations
Initiates of a Western Europe Rebirth
A Transylvania of forts and Baroques
Cathedrals, and orthodox moments
Sibiu a reserve connected to haunted castles
May 19, 2016
May 19, 2016 at 6:20 PM UTC
Asking the Congress to rewrite laws
That benefit and enrich themselves
Is asking the wolf not to eat the lamb.
The wolf will eat the lamb.
The lamb cannot avoid this fate
By pretending it is not worth eating.
The wealthy are well rewarded
For not caring about the poor.
To make them care the only way
Is to offer them tributes.
The rich want you to buy
Their trinkets and toys
And leave the lawmaking to them.
As long as we let the rich
Write the laws and control
Enforcement, the law
Will be slanted in their favor.
Nothing fuels fascism like poor people,
So the rich will raise prices and
Thus keep the people poor.
Dishonest people will always
Blame someone else for their crimes.
In government, they will blame
Honest people trying to do the job
They were elected to do.
If a person fails to be outraged
At the actions of criminals,
He is either criminal himself
Or a defense attorney,
And that person may be
Both at the same time.
Among the biggest mistakes
One can ever make
Is believing campaign promises
Where no evidence exists
Of any plan to keep them.
As long as politics are run
Like a beauty contest,
Nothing like democracy
Ever has a chance to succeed.
In a democratic country,
The common people must
Expect to participate
To make it work.
That means they must work
Within the system to ensure
All nefarious people and laws
Be discovered and thrown out.
Undefended rights are only
Privileges grudgingly by government
Dispensed as alms to beggars.
In a representative government,
Everyone must be a representative.
Yesterday is a terrible day
To plan to fix things.
Today and tomorrow
Are the only time we have to do it.
If a representative
Does not walk his talk,
Stop listening to his talk
And watch his walk.
Do not expect industry or military
To protect your rights.
They are both monetary institutions
Addicted to power.
If Congresspeople earn fortunes
By serving the people,
There can be no equity
In representation.
Corruption will rule the land.
Lobbyists should be imprisoned
if they are indistinguishable
From extortionists.
Voting districts need to be
Based on the needs of the people,
Not the needs of the bank accounts
Of our leadership.
Offshore bank accounts should be
As illegal as they are immoral.
Jan 21, 2017
Jan 21, 2017 at 6:08 PM UTC
Let's have a worldwide election for Peace on Earth forever! We're all Citizens of the Earth. Why not let everyone on Earth vote at the same time for the way she or he want the world to be. We already have the technology to do this. Do we collectively want world peace? Do we want to exercise our natural right to determine our own future? How many of you would vote for War--any kind of War, even World War III--that would destroy Earth and all living creation on it? Or would you prefer a world of equality, of kindness, of love? Would you prefer a world of letting everyone do her or his own thing, but do nothing that would cause harm to anyone else? All equals. No class system. No deprivation of food, good housing, great education, total freedom of religion (but no attempts to try to convert others). Citizens of Earth--all 8 billion of us--would be the government of Earth. There would be no president of Earth. Citizens of Earth would send their ideas and submissions to members of the General Assembly (around 200 elected for one five-year term by Citizens of Earth from districts that formerly were nations) who then would form them into proposals to be voted on by Citizens of Earth during the last two weeks of every month. Everyone worldwide would have access to smart phones (with one's own personal ID #). No more nations. No more borders (the world's air and water don't give a **** about them! Nor does the pandemic, with all it variants). We shall come to delight in our differences. We shall come to celebrate the variegated colors of skin, the different cultures, the different customs, languages, foods. No more aggrandizement, no more profiteering, no more money. No more wars, no more killings, no more *** trafficking. No more corruption, no more dictators, no more weapons of any kind. Just love and Peace on Earth forever. It's utterly doable! Think about it. Talk to your family about it. Talk to your friends about it. Talk to strangers on the street about it. It's our world, after all. Let's have an election and create a world in which we all can live without fear. Peace on Earth forever.
TOD HOWARD HAWKS
Apr 12, 2021
Apr 12, 2021 at 8:05 AM UTC
Streets are so dark
In the districts so poor
Where runaway kids play play games strange and unknown
And one shall get away with crime in a place dear to none
Where tales of courageous crimes as heroic legends still live
And people far beyond law in fate told by cards for real believe
There to survive you should never give in
And people risk each day working in between
There you a ruin of a palace from a dream
Yet be careful for darkness lies within
Oct 9, 2016
Oct 9, 2016 at 1:56 PM UTC
You came to know me
How you gave me face
Gave me name
Titled credibility
And privilege when you spoke of me
Amongst those held in esteem
Wonder now
If you might rob me
**** me of things I have come
To need
To want
To believe
Snarl words at me
Like rabid dogs
And slash down fondness
With awkward silence
Of church and business
Giving way to languages
Of far off districts
Inhabited by sailors and ******
Steal you their tongue
I know you can
Have heard you talk
Like breaking bottles
Sharp flecks of empty
Thrown out of car windows
Catching light
Exploding fireworks on the sidewalk
Screaming out into the heat
Before I was old enough
To understand such suggestions
Feb 3, 2011
Feb 3, 2011 at 2:40 PM UTC
The ****** the gamblers, the killers
And the serial killers,
The psychos, the schizos, the villains.
The streets are *****
The biggest ****** are in this city.
The streets are full of creeps.
The little shites
Walk up and down under street lights;
Licking the ***** of cheap ******
To whom money is a gun.
Dope dealers are priests.
Prostitutes that walk like wild caged beasts
Parading up and down the red
Light districts
Are desperate nuns looking for fun.
©Jack Aylward
Feb 20, 2016
Feb 20, 2016 at 1:09 PM UTC