"educationally" poems
Woke up early like I always do, no matter what I'm going through I sit and contemplate my present situation, like is this life worth living or am I wasting it, I got plans for myself but with what I know, I know there's a possibility of removing it from the shelf of possibilities, sometimes I can't control myself, so I get ****** off let some shots off and restock, my life is just a ramble that needs to be reshocked like defibrillators to your live stock, cause global warming turned to climate change and they make it seem it's not an issue by keeping your mind invisibly encaged and your nose in the tissue, I've been changing, so when it comes to blaming there's no one to blame but the cats who put our work to shame, **** the industry it's why I live in infamy like the US has for practically an entire century, continuing forensically but fail to catch their own trace of criminology, instead blaming you for your ideology passed down from generations along with theology, some things are more believable like the inconceivable evil that's injected inside the bloodstreams of my people, makin them turn from people to machines, **** that I'd rather be trapped in Saturn's rings but sometimes it's hard to stop some things
- This world has been ruled, dominated, and conquered for thousands of years.. I think it's about time to let that **** lay to rest -
Man I've been living for quite some time, and all I've seen is the world go from a bright shine to a darkened shrine, but I guess that's what will happen when you're born into a world that's already fastened their seatbelts for a global blastin, end the nukes end the fed end the ************* who will leave us for dead while they happily sit in bed waiting for their master Satan to come in faster, the worlds a disaster but it can be fixed if everyone pitches in to dethrone their "masters", mathematical factors plotting out disasters cause they're done on purpose like previous stories remastered, some will ridicule me but it won't matter when they realize the truth that's been hidden educationally generationally, you're serviceably useful to the machine aka the system, but the system needs you, you don't need to listen
Aug 7, 2014
Aug 7, 2014 at 7:48 PM UTC
However it begins, start off quiet
Then; it's gonna get louder
And louder.
This is how you write with power.
mix drinks, mix soul with attitude//
with empowerment
wrap it up in rhyme or rhyme it up
in rap
until it all becomes, sounds, and lives to be true.
Create persona's; flashy personalities
Political philosophies
like as if communism were the opposite of
democracy
Stop at some point in the poem-
Stop while they're jivin and movin to your words.
herd the unheard
jack lines. jack verbs.
This will give your poem
hesitation, a sense of urgency
and pause
Then of course a poem with power
contains anger
I have seen the disintegration
of dilapidated streets
gentrification
an educationally starved
third world nation
and make sure to speak with mastery of articulation
see, it's even spelt out in the constellations
making // placing sound waves upon deaf ears
Now, all you have to do
is lower your voice,
open your head
and say listen-
"This is the sound of the world changing,"
I said.
Jan 7, 2015
Jan 7, 2015 at 7:08 PM UTC
They say their goodbyes
as I sit back and watch,
silently wishing
I was doing the same.
They will begin new lives,
happy and scared.
Meeting new people,
making life-long friends.
They are building
their future.
Educationally and
emotionally.
I pretend to be happy,
for them, again and again.
But envy engulfs me,
as I clench my fists.
I am stuck here alone,
with the old and forgotten.
Not to experience new things,
new people, new life.
I will remain the same,
neither growing nor changing.
More so, reverting
Back to the horrors I've grown to love.
I am jealous and sad,
lonely and depressed.
I pretend to be happy,
But for what good?
I will sit here alone.
Aug 19, 2012
Aug 19, 2012 at 10:32 PM UTC
October 30th
Words, word, and the futility of such
Or true appeal in sectioned rhymes of madness
Like Beethoven composing Blade Runner
In the midst of blue helicopter gunners
Spectator chemicals eviscerate my brain
Educationally desensitized to what I'm trained
To do, or to scream in pools of rubidium
And call back to poems of delirium
In my shelter, so deep in my room
White peroxide liquid, mangled and groomed
My heart is aqueous, love
I'm shaped by the "god-like" lingerin' 'bove
Net equation and sums enter my ear
Therefore finding themselves on paper peers
Lectures or cantankerous, droning drawls
They taste like a slave's righteous crawl
Balance life like a panther and its prey
With elegant trickles remarking on the day
And unconcievable drawings, moving fro'
The Worldwill pukes to what I sow
There is no question, this isn't one
Verses are futile under the sun
But rhyme is priority, thus authority
Digestible, like wood covered in yellow sugar
And blue butter, counting with a Cockney clock
Arrogant as he is, he smiled at her
Tick tock, and the flock is shocked
Petty Betty blessed her daughter
Loved her well 'till the police caught her
Thought-streams, and the working of the mind
Like the asymmetric butterflies of the Sistine Chapel
Oh, believe me! That's how my brain grinds
Where the world can equate to an apple
Paper on a finger, vice versa, so long
As I can keep track of Sing's King Kong
Pink-headed jubilee in old Manila
Killing time violently on the stairs
Remember the words of mouths of vanilla
And be sure to never stare
I talk to myself and tell myself nothing
Soon, over the morn', I will be nothing
Oct 31, 2017
Oct 31, 2017 at 12:13 PM UTC
With her brown boot on the carriage seat,
filing her nails
she was the detriment
of feminity.
The self was her only care,
mid thirties nurtured
the south east London way.
A night out planned at New Cross
she held no fear
educationally detached
raw emotions like nicotine cravings
Jan 15, 2016
Jan 15, 2016 at 2:03 PM UTC
I was becoming for the record I know I'm a liability what I administer is formation that was created from my days my minutes ...that cop that came to rescue us when everyone left gave me his shhhhh he said no one will believe you OK ..All pretty all beautiful soul dancing ....suppress your only a savage !!go look after your kids look at you disgusting... OK !!! that worker did an assessment on me ..unfit no good violent..but I can't tell you that I cry every night I don't even sleep in my own bed!! I make my kids sleep in one room just in case we have to jump out the window... but wait I'm violent I'm unfit I'm trying to protect myself from Mr. and Mrs. originally we were put on medication because were unbalanced and we need help psych ward is next for you you crazy Indian!!! I got to make it home tonight I sit in love for my family no one can take that from you !!it's mine !!educationally I sip this rage I sip this patience pour this quality into my baby girls I promise ...that Stagger makes you look vulnerable the cab driver pulls up loud music says our native slangs personally hand his number now he has us First Nation women on target !!!! where are you I just saw you we just spoke of our kids growing up together ...where are you I was trying to make a way I didn't have enough for this ..I'm sorry ..I'm lost I cry now ...you speak ..voice me tell my mama I love her my kids show them they're the greatest and to walk forward breathe me alive in your voice!!... they're going to call an apology accordingly as order is adopted their ways speak like them walk like them dress like them wash like them drink like smoke like them think like them wait I look different than them I feel different than them I try to fit in it just does not work OutKast original first nation take me home now ...I can't stay addicted the pain of civilization the hunger of the reservation the future of your instincts manifested in the waters deep enough to drown sorrows in your own backyard formers retaliating in healing formers regaining strength in value in self governing options on the white paper hidden eyes so black so lost in your formality ...tie your own shoes don't try to walk in ours you have no sole... mysteries of loss graves reappearing lines found by mistake take me by the hand I won't take your truth I reform myself in dignity of my First Nation !!!!mercy kindness truth!!!
Jan 29, 2016
Jan 29, 2016 at 12:49 PM UTC
The concentric circles
Of two within one
described by colours
And the colours have meaning
The outer circle shaded red
those who build the world located hear
They are poor
They work day in day out
They make a living out of sweat
Most have many children
Most uneducated
Most die of hunger
They do unpropotional kind of work
They work a lot but paid less
Success is imagination
The inner is yellow
This describes the better ones
They are intermediaries
They speak for the few
They give given orders
They earn
They are settled but still most are not happy
They still strive to impress their bosses
The innermost belong to the few
The tycoons and multimillionaires
The earn but do not work
They formulate orders to favor
They hate local and like abroad
They speak in tongues
For others to interprete
Their shade is green
They have years to die
They import doctors
They inspire in ****
These are the few,
They have their say
And they must be heard!
Live is not fair
On earth someone struggles to make ends meet
While the other struggles to frustrate the more
The stinky rich
Controls the world
Even if they are educationally down
Their money speak louder
Their stories spread like fire over dry grass
They are of joy...
I will still believe in this concentric circle and unearth even better stories .
Jan 30, 2015
Jan 30, 2015 at 12:36 AM UTC
you ever look out into the darkest of nights,
your hair tousled in the damp grass,
the sounds of crickets tuning their wings
the very evening breeze the clouds bring
and just wonder what life is all about?
does it ever dawn upon you,
when the sun rises in the east,
the warmth it showers
as you're tossing and turning in bed,
fighting off the nightmares, the
sheer reality that things will never get better?
maybe it just happens to me,
alone in a padded wall of god awful
yellow wallpaper
my velvet hair spread across the pillow
with teddy bears of symbolic names,
I wonder if it is even worth opening my mouth
because I begin to find it as much as a waste of time
as the people that "listen."
I try not to,
as I take a sip of the lukewarm tea
with a quirky saying about nerds
and think to myself,
"Perhaps my purpose is of the quiet nerd."
seen but not heard,
powerful when spoken,
yet whispers the quiet words
that are never meant to be more
than a mumble.
it's pretty sad,
binge-watching an old sitcom
for the tenth time
feeling more connected with digitized
"old souls"
more than my own kin,
my own friends
my own love.
curled up in a bed too small
a blanket too cold
and socks too tight
feeling like a misfit among the misfits.
as I play my music,
both cynical and seductive
contemplating my place in the universe
instead of being educationally productive.
my eyes hardly ever close
until the break of dawn
where the sun rises yet again
and the night is gone
only to repeat the cycle
like the little infant I once was
peddling fast on her green tricycle.
Sep 19, 2020
Sep 19, 2020 at 9:52 PM UTC
I was taught to write poetry
not by man, nor educationally.
We never had the money;
spent most of what we had,
to feed each belly in our homestead.
Life was hard, but became not an excuse,
though our circumstances differed,
but our stories all related,
when written down; this pain became our muse
Our eyes drew energy from our surroundings,
and we used our struggle as inspiration.
Our words told a story the same as paintings,
defining who we were, despite our miseducation.
I was told to write poetry,
so our descendants may know our history,
so that our heritage may not be forsaken.
Immortalizing words already spoken.
Our voice when we're no longer around.
We wrote because we loved creativity,
and this helped us even in times of captivity.
It was our cry when we couldn't make a sound.
I was tempted to write poetry,
to express what it meant to be free.
Jul 31, 2017
Jul 31, 2017 at 5:31 PM UTC