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"europeans" poems
Municipal Gum was written by Oodjeroo Noonecaal. Municipal Gum is about the changes in society and the tendency of people to want to control everything. Oodjeroo uses various techniques to convey this idea. At the beginning of the poem Oodjeroo is addressing the tree. This immediately creates empathy for both the tree and her people. By the last line she has emphasised this with the pronoun “us” to show that they suffer a similar fate. This poem expresses how life in Australia has changes especially for Aboriginal people. In the first half of the poem Oodjeroo is talking about how life was for her and others. It explores the changes in society and the displacement of the Aboriginal people from their land. “Whose head hung…Its hopelessness”, the author uses this as further re-iteration of the immorality of the situation and by the use of analogy comparing the tree to her people to further emphasise the shame and lack control of that the Europeans have inflicted upon her and the environment. Oodjeroo uses extended metaphor technique in the very first line of the poem ‘Hard bitumen around your feet’. This means that the gumtree has been placed in the city scape where it is suppressed and not allowed to spread out and be unique in its own way. This is clear and immanently direct link to the pain and suffering endured by the Aborigines post European settlement. Oodjeroo uses vivid language to present these ideas. For example the use of the word castrated is very effective. The connotation of the word is very demeaning. With castration often comes a sense of a loss of pride and power. The word castration is symbolic of how Oodjeroo feels the European have treated Aboriginal people and the environment. Castration also refers to the fact that what is done is done. Nothing can undo what they did and the damaged they have caused. Other symbolism includes the title “Municipal Gum”, municipal meaning community, implies that the gumtree belongs to the community. One of the vast differences between European and Aboriginal law is that Aboriginal people did not believe in the ownership of land or of animals and plants. Municipal Gum is a reference to the Europeans assumptions that everything is theirs to own and control. The rhetorical question, “O fellow citizen, What have they done to us?” is the conclusion of the implications that have been made throughout the poem. Oodjeroo, is advocating for her people and all things wronged by the controlling behaviour of the Europeans. Rhetorical questions are used to provoke thought and to stimulate a pre-determined response. “What have they done to us?” They have “castrated, broken… strapped and buckled” and ultimately changed things to a point that they cannot be fixed. In conclusion, Municipal Gum is a poem about the constrictions and change that the European invaders forced upon the Aboriginal community and the environment she believes that the Europeans have deemed themselves ever powerful and practice their power in a manner that is immoral.
0
Sep 11, 2013
Sep 11, 2013 at 7:47 AM UTC
Municipal Gum
Municipal Gum was written by Oodjeroo Noonecaal. Municipal Gum is about the changes in society and the tendency of people to want to control everything. Oodjeroo uses various techniques to convey this idea. At the beginning of the poem Oodjeroo is addressing the tree. This immediately creates empathy for both the tree and her people. By the last line she has emphasised this with the pronoun “us” to show that they suffer a similar fate. This poem expresses how life in Australia has changes especially for Aboriginal people. In the first half of the poem Oodjeroo is talking about how life was for her and others. It explores the changes in society and the displacement of the Aboriginal people from their land. “Whose head hung…Its hopelessness”, the author uses this as further re-iteration of the immorality of the situation and by the use of analogy comparing the tree to her people to further emphasise the shame and lack control of that the Europeans have inflicted upon her and the environment. Oodjeroo uses extended metaphor technique in the very first line of the poem ‘Hard bitumen around your feet’. This means that the gumtree has been placed in the city scape where it is suppressed and not allowed to spread out and be unique in its own way. This is clear and immanently direct link to the pain and suffering endured by the Aborigines post European settlement. Oodjeroo uses vivid language to present these ideas. For example the use of the word castrated is very effective. The connotation of the word is very demeaning. With castration often comes a sense of a loss of pride and power. The word castration is symbolic of how Oodjeroo feels the European have treated Aboriginal people and the environment. Castration also refers to the fact that what is done is done. Nothing can undo what they did and the damaged they have caused. Other symbolism includes the title “Municipal Gum”, municipal meaning community, implies that the gumtree belongs to the community. One of the vast differences between European and Aboriginal law is that Aboriginal people did not believe in the ownership of land or of animals and plants. Municipal Gum is a reference to the Europeans assumptions that everything is theirs to own and control. The rhetorical question, “O fellow citizen, What have they done to us?” is the conclusion of the implications that have been made throughout the poem. Oodjeroo, is advocating for her people and all things wronged by the controlling behaviour of the Europeans. Rhetorical questions are used to provoke thought and to stimulate a pre-determined response. “What have they done to us?” They have “castrated, broken… strapped and buckled” and ultimately changed things to a point that they cannot be fixed. In conclusion, Municipal Gum is a poem about the constrictions and change that the European invaders forced upon the Aboriginal community and the environment she believes that the Europeans have deemed themselves ever powerful and practice their power in a manner that is immoral.
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9
He looks like a rasta Preaches no money only peace But smokes no **** He’s been sober all his life Like he just got out of rehab But doesn't mind if his friends smoke a couple trees He breaks it down like a b-boy That might of known Michael Jackson Then belts out American country music In the heart of Africa Designs fashion making Europeans wonder If they should colonize Africa again to get his resources. Neo-colonization anyone? He has small money He lives poor But lives rich Has his own humble home Like the adult he’s been since 15 And loves helplessly like he’s still 15 Despite the bruises the world continues to lash on his never aging soul. Ohhh Those bruises must hurt But he’s trying to heal them with his art He is an anomaly Doesn’t fit here or there But anomalies are perfectly normal They choose to sit in there soul Release truth that needs to be told Because it’s only natural Not fabricated The fabricated Really hates it. The fabricated Still takes a taste of it Because they want that Freedom The fabricated Watch in awe They say no You aren’t allowed to do that That’s a contradiction You’re a paradox Social lines wont let you cross that. Get back in line Get back in line Before we shoot you Because we want your freedom too. He’s been shot a couple times I think his soul is his armor But he lives in a human body So you can imagine he’s not all that bullet proof. Even if his body dies one day I swear his soul will live on. His freedom has no expiration date.
0
Jul 3, 2016
Jul 3, 2016 at 3:41 AM UTC
You're a contradiction
He looks like a rasta Preaches no money only peace But smokes no **** He’s been sober all his life Like he just got out of rehab But doesn't mind if his friends smoke a couple trees He breaks it down like a b-boy That might of known Michael Jackson Then belts out American country music In the heart of Africa Designs fashion making Europeans wonder If they should colonize Africa again to get his resources. Neo-colonization anyone? He has small money He lives poor But lives rich Has his own humble home Like the adult he’s been since 15 And loves helplessly like he’s still 15 Despite the bruises the world continues to lash on his never aging soul. Ohhh Those bruises must hurt But he’s trying to heal them with his art He is an anomaly Doesn’t fit here or there But anomalies are perfectly normal They choose to sit in there soul Release truth that needs to be told Because it’s only natural Not fabricated The fabricated Really hates it. The fabricated Still takes a taste of it Because they want that Freedom The fabricated Watch in awe They say no You aren’t allowed to do that That’s a contradiction You’re a paradox Social lines wont let you cross that. Get back in line Get back in line Before we shoot you Because we want your freedom too. He’s been shot a couple times I think his soul is his armor But he lives in a human body So you can imagine he’s not all that bullet proof. Even if his body dies one day I swear his soul will live on. His freedom has no expiration date.
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54
Wake Up Wretched World, I assert my Indigenous heritage I self identify With the ancestors of my continent Identity afraid to articulate Culture, unknowingly belonging to me Cycle of shame now shattered Product of love, hatred, lust, and desire europeans plundering my mother Latin America In chaos and violence, my skin's pigment Has been engineered through the mestizaje Of my Indigenous forefathers How could I not forget my lineage When the historical legacy of modernization Has been to massacre the consciousness Of where my people really come from Erasing indigenous pride Making Paisano and Indio Synonymous with poverty and alienation Insulting the humbleness State of hunger you've left us in Original lineage within me disturbed So you push me to ambiguity and embarrassment Not white, not indigenous? Pure indigenous brothers and sisters silenced Not an exploitable consumerist market, not in your campaigns Not benefactors of your philanthropic development tactics Bodies too costly to abuse, no reason to bring them Into the neoliberal multinational corporate circuit Constantly driving them off productive land Because they choose to assert their identity Live in collective communes, not owing you nothing Waiting for them to make barren lands productive So you can take those lands too Not capturing an obscure history, these are not colonial times This is the legacy of the european presence entering mother Latin America 21st century still defiling Indigenous cultures to civilize and modernize
0
Mar 14, 2013
Mar 14, 2013 at 10:26 PM UTC
Indigenous (Abducted Consciousness)
Wake Up Wretched World, I assert my Indigenous heritage I self identify With the ancestors of my continent Identity afraid to articulate Culture, unknowingly belonging to me Cycle of shame now shattered Product of love, hatred, lust, and desire europeans plundering my mother Latin America In chaos and violence, my skin's pigment Has been engineered through the mestizaje Of my Indigenous forefathers How could I not forget my lineage When the historical legacy of modernization Has been to massacre the consciousness Of where my people really come from Erasing indigenous pride Making Paisano and Indio Synonymous with poverty and alienation Insulting the humbleness State of hunger you've left us in Original lineage within me disturbed So you push me to ambiguity and embarrassment Not white, not indigenous? Pure indigenous brothers and sisters silenced Not an exploitable consumerist market, not in your campaigns Not benefactors of your philanthropic development tactics Bodies too costly to abuse, no reason to bring them Into the neoliberal multinational corporate circuit Constantly driving them off productive land Because they choose to assert their identity Live in collective communes, not owing you nothing Waiting for them to make barren lands productive So you can take those lands too Not capturing an obscure history, these are not colonial times This is the legacy of the european presence entering mother Latin America 21st century still defiling Indigenous cultures to civilize and modernize
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37
The name Theodore has its Greek anthropologies, Jewish anthropologies and also Germany anthropologies. The Greek anthropological perspective of The name Theodore indeed has something to do with the gods.However, the Greek way of looking at life was a frustrated thinking.To them everything was a god. They had  a plethora of gods; utopia,cacotopia, Thespis, muse, clio, calypso, and Theodore was a half a god like Gabriel who impregnanted Mary on behalf of God as Joseph the cuckold carpenter patiently looked musing the ballad of a cuckold peasant . So Theodore and Gabriel were godsend.I  have not delved to know what it means among the Jews, But am aware of the the cultural and anthropological surroundings of the name Theodore in Germany . It is a name of a male person  signifying extra-masculine behavior. I also write poetry in Deutsch, so i know  substantial cultural values of the people of Germany.  Like in this case the modern  social  naming systems . I am aware of the anthropology of this Deutsch nomenclatural position.Why would link this name to Greeks but not Germany may due to  some silent social and emotional  disposition in Europe  that the  English speaking Europeans have a soft spot for  the Greek culture.While at the same time they become victims of high adrenaline level when exposed to anything Germany. they always get repulsed when the word Germany is mentioned.So one's  thesis on nomenclatural values of the name Theodore depends on which side of European  consciousness one is found; is it Germany friendly consciousness or Germany threatened consciousness? The dystopic component of the name Theodore is purely cacotopic with zero element of utopia , as extra-masculinity is a swine of  engendered civilization  all the times. Yours Alexander  k  Opicho NB/ i kindly  invite Theodore to come to  Kenya so that we do a joint research on the Swahili perspectives of the name Theodore, in Kiswahili the name Theodore  is subverted to bwana tadayo
0
Jan 22, 2014
Jan 22, 2014 at 10:57 AM UTC
poetic dystopia and the name theodore
The name Theodore has its Greek anthropologies, Jewish anthropologies and also Germany anthropologies. The Greek anthropological perspective of The name Theodore indeed has something to do with the gods.However, the Greek way of looking at life was a frustrated thinking.To them everything was a god. They had  a plethora of gods; utopia,cacotopia, Thespis, muse, clio, calypso, and Theodore was a half a god like Gabriel who impregnanted Mary on behalf of God as Joseph the cuckold carpenter patiently looked musing the ballad of a cuckold peasant . So Theodore and Gabriel were godsend.I  have not delved to know what it means among the Jews, But am aware of the the cultural and anthropological surroundings of the name Theodore in Germany . It is a name of a male person  signifying extra-masculine behavior. I also write poetry in Deutsch, so i know  substantial cultural values of the people of Germany.  Like in this case the modern  social  naming systems . I am aware of the anthropology of this Deutsch nomenclatural position.Why would link this name to Greeks but not Germany may due to  some silent social and emotional  disposition in Europe  that the  English speaking Europeans have a soft spot for  the Greek culture.While at the same time they become victims of high adrenaline level when exposed to anything Germany. they always get repulsed when the word Germany is mentioned.So one's  thesis on nomenclatural values of the name Theodore depends on which side of European  consciousness one is found; is it Germany friendly consciousness or Germany threatened consciousness? The dystopic component of the name Theodore is purely cacotopic with zero element of utopia , as extra-masculinity is a swine of  engendered civilization  all the times. Yours Alexander  k  Opicho NB/ i kindly  invite Theodore to come to  Kenya so that we do a joint research on the Swahili perspectives of the name Theodore, in Kiswahili the name Theodore  is subverted to bwana tadayo
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4
We rode our horses cross-country, Through the nations of the unknown, We survived the snowy mountains, And lived off the land and the trees, Through hot summers and cold winters, Through deserts storms; we circled the trails, We learned from the birds and the bees, We hunted the elk, the deer and the buffalo, We fished to feed the travelling spirit, We turned acorns into flour, We set our senses free. $ Europeans brought Soldiers, missionaries, smallpox, the common cold, scalping, reservations, whisky and the rush for gold. You brought land grabbers, oil barons, fencing, bricks, barbed wire and all the accoutrements of your civilised culture! You made this country your own; and forced it's 1st nation people into a 3rd world culture. You ***** the land of its resources, filled it with waste. You wasted the water to make coke, burgers, and fantasy towns. To reign supreme in a new-world without shame! Savages!
0
Oct 10, 2018
Oct 10, 2018 at 4:38 PM UTC
Native
Freedom At Kannyakumari “The destiny of India is molded in her class-rooms” Kothari had no confusion; no vision on the fusion- of the East and the West, as Swami Vivekananda’s vision, “The comingling of the East and the West will dawn a new Era”. As tissue culture, transplantation or cloning we Indians imbibe the Western Culture; or as G.M cotton or brinjals,or tomato Indians are produced, transmuted destroying the very indigenous genus for material growth. Ayurveda is preserved not in Sanskrit but in English letters, now ! Followers of Lord Maccaulay as obedient servants, by experiments,bring up Indians only in blood and colour- in every other respects-Europeans (using imperialist - capitalist media); poor sycophants ,for a visa, the Indians: now , turn to the West for light, leaving the bright light under the Urn; cry for a way of progress, safety and food; and beg:once self reliant nations as cells of a body No retrospection or introspection, only putrefaction, hence , no resurrection. On August 15th ,at Kannyakumari beach , beside me, a bare body of a woman(my sister?) lay asleep; I witnessed at the starry cold mid-night: the surging sea spitting frothing snow upon the black rocky ******* protruded, greasy, mossy. bare but fair , ever young at the feet of Bharat-matha. Wet in the salty breeze , from the foul smell of death, I walked and walked searching shelter, but no room for a single son with meagre wealth. The tourism net -workers with the thirst of mosquitoes hummed around me with highly rented room offer- source of tourism exploitation- I bargained, till, morning red balloon rose up in the Eastern horizon cleaving the vapours of the sea, when , thousand tongues chanted Gayathri; then , the locals thronged around the woman on the shore; somebody among them, staring blear eyed as the police jeep and the ambulance arrived , bewailed “O! Gayathri, my darling, O! Gayathri…” Unsoothed. The chanting and the yelling dissolved in the breeze that passed by the Vivekananda rock, afar, south
0
Sep 12, 2012
Sep 12, 2012 at 3:50 AM UTC
Freedom to Think
Freedom At Kannyakumari “The destiny of India is molded in her class-rooms” Kothari had no confusion; no vision on the fusion- of the East and the West, as Swami Vivekananda’s vision, “The comingling of the East and the West will dawn a new Era”. As tissue culture, transplantation or cloning we Indians imbibe the Western Culture; or as G.M cotton or brinjals,or tomato Indians are produced, transmuted destroying the very indigenous genus for material growth. Ayurveda is preserved not in Sanskrit but in English letters, now ! Followers of Lord Maccaulay as obedient servants, by experiments,bring up Indians only in blood and colour- in every other respects-Europeans (using imperialist - capitalist media); poor sycophants ,for a visa, the Indians: now , turn to the West for light, leaving the bright light under the Urn; cry for a way of progress, safety and food; and beg:once self reliant nations as cells of a body No retrospection or introspection, only putrefaction, hence , no resurrection. On August 15th ,at Kannyakumari beach , beside me, a bare body of a woman(my sister?) lay asleep; I witnessed at the starry cold mid-night: the surging sea spitting frothing snow upon the black rocky ******* protruded, greasy, mossy. bare but fair , ever young at the feet of Bharat-matha. Wet in the salty breeze , from the foul smell of death, I walked and walked searching shelter, but no room for a single son with meagre wealth. The tourism net -workers with the thirst of mosquitoes hummed around me with highly rented room offer- source of tourism exploitation- I bargained, till, morning red balloon rose up in the Eastern horizon cleaving the vapours of the sea, when , thousand tongues chanted Gayathri; then , the locals thronged around the woman on the shore; somebody among them, staring blear eyed as the police jeep and the ambulance arrived , bewailed “O! Gayathri, my darling, O! Gayathri…” Unsoothed. The chanting and the yelling dissolved in the breeze that passed by the Vivekananda rock, afar, south
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44
so, with israel being re-established... why do we, us,hit europeans... even need to bother establishing authority,          utilißing the new testament? i quiete like the old testament logic of: oculus per oculus                    (eye for an eye)... because the saxon concept of justice: i rather see... the implosion of    blackstone's formulation... the 10:1 imploding to the 1:10 ratio of...       a shawshank redemption... there is... redemption... since! there's no justice within the post scriptum of the hillsborough disaster... watching people walk, the lunatic walk, 20 years later?    disorientated by the court of justice?     re-dem-ption... the whole aspect of: innocent until proven guilty is horrid! this... saxon vernacular of that branch of philosophy that's bogus... namely... within origins      of the forbidden fruit... i.e. and you know?!     really?!       no... but i'll **** to make a standing pivot of a pawn on a chess-board.                           savvy? who, among the europeans... actually needs such artifacts as new testament texts, credo, orthodoxy, sign of the cross greek exports?              the state of israel has been re-established...       i don't want anything to do with this judeo-grecian banality... you can have you little affair over                                 n        e                                                 w                                  s... don't worry... i'll make sure that i'm watching... people tell a lie... yeah: hum hum bubbly hum-hum... am i, or are there any arizona inbreds? who, the hell, needs, the news testament, within the confines of history, dispossessing europe of it, of an established jewish state?       one book among many... hence the scent of a yawn...                          when entering a library... i'll do one gesture, and one gesture alone... inclined to a replica...     ecce libra!              i wash my hands from                   having any investment in it. **** the greeks can have it...       they can keep it, cherish it, but they better not spaghetti the old testament with their... "ingenious" plot... not when the nag hammadi library emerged...       no... not now... not ever...         i detest this greek book of overt symbolism...   their pristine alphabet, their diacritical application,   with the pseudo-romans toying with: deaf... or blind... whichever it is... sandpaper... instead of a kangaroo pouch... of inflated... soft... flesh? i'll rip your heart out and feed it to my neighbour's dog,                   beside a bowl of water.
0
Jul 24, 2018
Jul 24, 2018 at 8:32 PM UTC
ecce libra! re-emergence of israel **** liber)
so, with israel being re-established... why do we, us,hit europeans... even need to bother establishing authority,          utilißing the new testament? i quiete like the old testament logic of: oculus per oculus                    (eye for an eye)... because the saxon concept of justice: i rather see... the implosion of    blackstone's formulation... the 10:1 imploding to the 1:10 ratio of...       a shawshank redemption... there is... redemption... since! there's no justice within the post scriptum of the hillsborough disaster... watching people walk, the lunatic walk, 20 years later?    disorientated by the court of justice?     re-dem-ption... the whole aspect of: innocent until proven guilty is horrid! this... saxon vernacular of that branch of philosophy that's bogus... namely... within origins      of the forbidden fruit... i.e. and you know?!     really?!       no... but i'll **** to make a standing pivot of a pawn on a chess-board.                           savvy? who, among the europeans... actually needs such artifacts as new testament texts, credo, orthodoxy, sign of the cross greek exports?              the state of israel has been re-established...       i don't want anything to do with this judeo-grecian banality... you can have you little affair over                                 n        e                                                 w                                  s... don't worry... i'll make sure that i'm watching... people tell a lie... yeah: hum hum bubbly hum-hum... am i, or are there any arizona inbreds? who, the hell, needs, the news testament, within the confines of history, dispossessing europe of it, of an established jewish state?       one book among many... hence the scent of a yawn...                          when entering a library... i'll do one gesture, and one gesture alone... inclined to a replica...     ecce libra!              i wash my hands from                   having any investment in it. **** the greeks can have it...       they can keep it, cherish it, but they better not spaghetti the old testament with their... "ingenious" plot... not when the nag hammadi library emerged...       no... not now... not ever...         i detest this greek book of overt symbolism...   their pristine alphabet, their diacritical application,   with the pseudo-romans toying with: deaf... or blind... whichever it is... sandpaper... instead of a kangaroo pouch... of inflated... soft... flesh? i'll rip your heart out and feed it to my neighbour's dog,                   beside a bowl of water.
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86
.*i guess a loss of subscriptions is, somehow, a badge of honor, namely? i somehow managed to attach a screwdriver to my words... why? read below... English women consider motherhood to be a job... how ******* demeaning! gone are the days of womanhood attaining the stature of god, in the Christian methodology of encompassing the pivot of lady Madonna... perhaps a too high peddle-stool? i guess so... i'm not usurping the female status, but elevating a female stature, deeming motherhood an UNESCO status? seems it's too much... for some people... who make it necessary to befriend their shadow, and travel to the hinterlands.* just your atypical pedantry, a translator's subscript comment - who's richard rojcewicz's... regarding what? heidegger...        das volk,       and the three derivatives - volkhaft (populist),        volklich (communal) und?            völkisch (folkish) - i'm starting to suspect that i'm tapping in the all things folk.... unconsciously, favoring folk music...    see, us central europeans, we bunch together and share the most odd similarities -    i never thought that the song herr mannelig could be translated from Swedish - as it was translated into German... then again... Vikings founded Kiev... and all these loan-words of Germanic origin in Polish...     the only Anglo loan-word that i know of, is, weekend... hence, das volk, people -    by the way... German has "too many" definite articles,    and only one ein - or eine - is that the same rule as in Ęnglish? i.e. N                  in an example,    rather than in a counter example?    two vowels adjacent in separate word, sitting across from the grand chasm of... a spacing itch? but look at German, i never get it... DAS DIE DER...              is there an aesthetic difference, and only an aesthetic difference to mind?         bewildering... if there is such a thing as a western civilization...    that sometime     pompous obnoxiousness, fair enough... no problem:    but learn to hide it,            feel it, rather then feed it... it's not a question of a civilization, but more...     an answer to what is less civilization, and more... a chore... just like western women, notably the english women call motherhood a, "job"...                    it's a... wait... a job? doubt was big in classic philosophy of the Cartesian schematic... so no one knows that the French existentialists brought in negation,     as the driving force to replace doubt?               who the hell sees doubt these days?     either the know it alles - or the hush-hush crowd...            motherhood is a... job? well... then i guess, being a man... western civilization, by that standard of logic...    can't be anything more...    than a.... ******* chore!
0
Aug 14, 2018
Aug 14, 2018 at 8:33 AM UTC
das volk (translator's note)
.*i guess a loss of subscriptions is, somehow, a badge of honor, namely? i somehow managed to attach a screwdriver to my words... why? read below... English women consider motherhood to be a job... how ******* demeaning! gone are the days of womanhood attaining the stature of god, in the Christian methodology of encompassing the pivot of lady Madonna... perhaps a too high peddle-stool? i guess so... i'm not usurping the female status, but elevating a female stature, deeming motherhood an UNESCO status? seems it's too much... for some people... who make it necessary to befriend their shadow, and travel to the hinterlands.* just your atypical pedantry, a translator's subscript comment - who's richard rojcewicz's... regarding what? heidegger...        das volk,       and the three derivatives - volkhaft (populist),        volklich (communal) und?            völkisch (folkish) - i'm starting to suspect that i'm tapping in the all things folk.... unconsciously, favoring folk music...    see, us central europeans, we bunch together and share the most odd similarities -    i never thought that the song herr mannelig could be translated from Swedish - as it was translated into German... then again... Vikings founded Kiev... and all these loan-words of Germanic origin in Polish...     the only Anglo loan-word that i know of, is, weekend... hence, das volk, people -    by the way... German has "too many" definite articles,    and only one ein - or eine - is that the same rule as in Ęnglish? i.e. N                  in an example,    rather than in a counter example?    two vowels adjacent in separate word, sitting across from the grand chasm of... a spacing itch? but look at German, i never get it... DAS DIE DER...              is there an aesthetic difference, and only an aesthetic difference to mind?         bewildering... if there is such a thing as a western civilization...    that sometime     pompous obnoxiousness, fair enough... no problem:    but learn to hide it,            feel it, rather then feed it... it's not a question of a civilization, but more...     an answer to what is less civilization, and more... a chore... just like western women, notably the english women call motherhood a, "job"...                    it's a... wait... a job? doubt was big in classic philosophy of the Cartesian schematic... so no one knows that the French existentialists brought in negation,     as the driving force to replace doubt?               who the hell sees doubt these days?     either the know it alles - or the hush-hush crowd...            motherhood is a... job? well... then i guess, being a man... western civilization, by that standard of logic...    can't be anything more...    than a.... ******* chore!
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77
The man to my right was more than eight feet away. I was going to have to move closer to him to catch my limit of four trout. I halved the distance between the two of us and noted the sideways glance he shot me. I apologized immediately and asked if I was crowding him.      “No, you fine,” he replied within a thick Serbian accent.      “You’re with them?” I asked, pointing to the crowd of people on the bridge some 30 feet upstream from us. I had heard the crowd of eastern Europeans talking earlier, and their accents were unmistakable to me. He nodded and we continued fishing.      With my new angle I was better able to pick my fish in the water, so that’s what I did. I spied one and tossed my jig toward him. It took five casts but eventually, he took the bait. As I netted it in the swift, ice-cold spring water the man beside me congratulated me on the catch. I thanked him and added it to my stringer. This made three, and I only needed one more.      “What’s your name?” I asked him.      “Ivan”.      “Have you been in the states long?” I asked, after the pause following his short reply seemed to invite more questions.      “Since ‘96, my family live here. It is good.”      “You like living here?” I wondered aloud.      “Yes, the fishing is good. It is like back home in Serbia, or in Germany. We have this fishing there.”      “You mean trout?”      “Yes, trout...and some other fish like these, in water like this, but I can’t go home now.” He looked away momentarily. His lips pursed, and his brow furrowed. I pulled my line in, wanting to ask him more and not wanting to be distracted.      “Were you in the war?”      “Yes, I was in the Serbian police force.” My heart pounded. “When I was in the Serbian police force, we did what you see on the news. We went into villages and we killed them. We killed them all.”      I cast my line back into the water, spying another trout. Ivan shrugged and cast his own line. I couldn’t tell what he was using but it looked like cheese of some kind. “I was drafted in Serb police when I was 15. I had no choice. If I refuse, they **** me. I did what I had to do.” I nodded, and ****** my line, missing a fish. “Before the war, I fished. After the war, there were not so many people, so fishing was very good.”      The air around me was alive. The trees were greener, the water was colder and clearer, the sun was brighter, and the sky was bluer.      “I’ve been fishing for a long time as well,” I responded. My father used to bring me here as a child. He nodded and continued.      “After the war, all the fish come back, no one fished during the war, so there were many of them. You just had to be careful of the mines.” He grunted and gazed skyward.      “The mines?”      “Yes, during the war they mined the water.”      I watched trout number four take my jig and I carefully reeled him in. Ivan congratulated me a second time, and I thanked him in return. “You’re a good fisherman,” he said turning back to his own pursuit of the four-trout limit, as I left the water to clean my catch.
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Sep 21, 2019
Sep 21, 2019 at 8:33 PM UTC
Fishing
The man to my right was more than eight feet away. I was going to have to move closer to him to catch my limit of four trout. I halved the distance between the two of us and noted the sideways glance he shot me. I apologized immediately and asked if I was crowding him.      “No, you fine,” he replied within a thick Serbian accent.      “You’re with them?” I asked, pointing to the crowd of people on the bridge some 30 feet upstream from us. I had heard the crowd of eastern Europeans talking earlier, and their accents were unmistakable to me. He nodded and we continued fishing.      With my new angle I was better able to pick my fish in the water, so that’s what I did. I spied one and tossed my jig toward him. It took five casts but eventually, he took the bait. As I netted it in the swift, ice-cold spring water the man beside me congratulated me on the catch. I thanked him and added it to my stringer. This made three, and I only needed one more.      “What’s your name?” I asked him.      “Ivan”.      “Have you been in the states long?” I asked, after the pause following his short reply seemed to invite more questions.      “Since ‘96, my family live here. It is good.”      “You like living here?” I wondered aloud.      “Yes, the fishing is good. It is like back home in Serbia, or in Germany. We have this fishing there.”      “You mean trout?”      “Yes, trout...and some other fish like these, in water like this, but I can’t go home now.” He looked away momentarily. His lips pursed, and his brow furrowed. I pulled my line in, wanting to ask him more and not wanting to be distracted.      “Were you in the war?”      “Yes, I was in the Serbian police force.” My heart pounded. “When I was in the Serbian police force, we did what you see on the news. We went into villages and we killed them. We killed them all.”      I cast my line back into the water, spying another trout. Ivan shrugged and cast his own line. I couldn’t tell what he was using but it looked like cheese of some kind. “I was drafted in Serb police when I was 15. I had no choice. If I refuse, they **** me. I did what I had to do.” I nodded, and ****** my line, missing a fish. “Before the war, I fished. After the war, there were not so many people, so fishing was very good.”      The air around me was alive. The trees were greener, the water was colder and clearer, the sun was brighter, and the sky was bluer.      “I’ve been fishing for a long time as well,” I responded. My father used to bring me here as a child. He nodded and continued.      “After the war, all the fish come back, no one fished during the war, so there were many of them. You just had to be careful of the mines.” He grunted and gazed skyward.      “The mines?”      “Yes, during the war they mined the water.”      I watched trout number four take my jig and I carefully reeled him in. Ivan congratulated me a second time, and I thanked him in return. “You’re a good fisherman,” he said turning back to his own pursuit of the four-trout limit, as I left the water to clean my catch.
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22
Too much lost in translation Transportation Communication This game requires no imagination I find no elation Of why it’s called Chinese Whispers Since it’s English that we’re whispering Since I can actually whisper in Chinese. I suppose it dates back to the 17th century When Europeans and the Chinese tried to meet And tried to speak And proceeded to fail To no avail They still could trade So today we have this game to play Unknowingly proving in many ways Even to this day We still cannot understand What others try to say Like whispering Chinese to English speakers.
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Jan 4, 2016
Jan 4, 2016 at 5:29 PM UTC
Chinese Whispers
The assassins hit in 63 And Camelot was gone, Inspiration vanished And the darkness sang it’s song. *Vietnam escalated Brezhnev’s Russia loomed, Africa was eviscerated And Red China entombed. *Floating on a long white cloud The Kiwis were replete With abundant British markets For their butter, wool and meat. *The Europeans went **** And Britain lost it’s way When the Beatles and the Rolling Stones Monopolized their day. *Man landed on the moon And raised the Yankee flag And they shot Mahatma Ghandi For making good things out of bad. *The Berlin Wall dividing, The Cold War tense and spare, ICBM’s threaten silently In their silos of despair. *Bob Menzies ruled Australia As an amassing of his loot And his White Australia Policy Condemned him as a brute. *Found naked on her tousled bed, Blonde hair across her face, Marylin Monroe is dead The world’s a darker place. *In the Age of Aquarius Our children lost their youth, LSD and smoking *** And Afro’s were the proof. *Lots of leg in miniskirts, High bouffant’s in the hair, Screaming teeny boppers Rock with Elvis on “the Air”. *Giant, Rawhide, Ponderosa, Martin Luther King, Kaftans and a cheese fondue, Abortion is a sin! It’s a sixties kaleidoscope, A panoramic skim Of an era of wonderment Which you and I lived in. Marshalg @the Gate Mangere Bridge 20th January 2009
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Oct 23, 2009
Oct 23, 2009 at 2:25 PM UTC
Skim of the Sixties
Pride of the world, like a phoenix I rise towering over darkness and hatred scarred though our hearts be, but un-cowed, unfurls my spirit, leading aspirations to the skies and beyond. We are Americans and Europeans and Africans and Asians, divided in religion and race, but here we meet as one world, here we will bridge heaven and earth and hew a passage through boulders of bigotry into the lands of brotherhood and peace.
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Nov 5, 2014
Nov 5, 2014 at 1:40 AM UTC
Phoenix of our days
When I say I’m a nudist I am told I’m disgusting But then, I keep forgetting It’s that “people don’t **** thing. And people don’t **** And nobody ever craps. They just keep their napkin Tucked safely in their laps. They don’t belch, not ever, And nobody picks their nose. It’s the way of polite folks And that’s just how it goes. Well, let me remind you Where you were born, And where you came out of, And that you were shorn Of any kind of clothing Both mother and the child. You were born like the animals Both domestic and wild. You are naked one assumes When you shower your body So, please quit acting like ****** is something shoddy. Your parent put such madness Inside of your innocent head; Things like getting re-dressed Each night when you go to bed. The insanity of Europeans Who came to American soil And wore LAYERS of clothing In the heat while they toiled. Then they went to other lands And warped the people there With the strange brand of madness They had been taught to share. They were taught to be ashamed Of what god had given them; That their private parts were evil And turned you into a golem. And when asked for a reason For this weird kind of crazy They started talking about god When their logic got all hazy. So you “people don’t **** folks Can just kiss my naked *** That thinking might work for you But for me it won’t pass For anything but brainwash And the programming of the sick. So wake the hell up, the rest of you And get on the natural stick. If I want to be naked all day And you want to wear clothing That should be each of our choice; A personal ‘go or don’t go’ thing. I mean, for a perfect example here Think of laundry bill savings So, you can just stop harassing And gnashing and raving. Brent Kincaid 4/12/2015
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Apr 12, 2015
Apr 12, 2015 at 4:49 PM UTC
PEOPLE DON'T ****
When I say I’m a nudist I am told I’m disgusting But then, I keep forgetting It’s that “people don’t **** thing. And people don’t **** And nobody ever craps. They just keep their napkin Tucked safely in their laps. They don’t belch, not ever, And nobody picks their nose. It’s the way of polite folks And that’s just how it goes. Well, let me remind you Where you were born, And where you came out of, And that you were shorn Of any kind of clothing Both mother and the child. You were born like the animals Both domestic and wild. You are naked one assumes When you shower your body So, please quit acting like ****** is something shoddy. Your parent put such madness Inside of your innocent head; Things like getting re-dressed Each night when you go to bed. The insanity of Europeans Who came to American soil And wore LAYERS of clothing In the heat while they toiled. Then they went to other lands And warped the people there With the strange brand of madness They had been taught to share. They were taught to be ashamed Of what god had given them; That their private parts were evil And turned you into a golem. And when asked for a reason For this weird kind of crazy They started talking about god When their logic got all hazy. So you “people don’t **** folks Can just kiss my naked *** That thinking might work for you But for me it won’t pass For anything but brainwash And the programming of the sick. So wake the hell up, the rest of you And get on the natural stick. If I want to be naked all day And you want to wear clothing That should be each of our choice; A personal ‘go or don’t go’ thing. I mean, for a perfect example here Think of laundry bill savings So, you can just stop harassing And gnashing and raving. Brent Kincaid 4/12/2015
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Oh Brexit! Where is the Exit? You can’t make your money You Tory Grandees, Nor can you Remainer MPs. We’re running right into a very hard cliff; Before we get out we’ll all be so stiff. There’s no majority for any option And Theresa May’s deal is but a concoction. Vote after vote and endless debate. March twenty ninth is the Closing Date. Can we escape? I really don’t know. The media are loving this pantomime show. This sorry charade is filling the news, We’re all sick of hearing everyone’s views. Please get me out of here I hear you say Surely, surely there must be some way! So come on politicians Get your fingers out And show these Europeans We still have some clout. If we can’t do that then just pack it in And throw the whole thing right into the bin. Whatever we do I’m just past caring But I hope you’ll tell me thanks for sharing. Get on with it! That’s the yell. For until we resolve this We are in Hell. Paul Butters © 30\1\2019 (Written in the early hours!).
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Jan 30, 2019
Jan 30, 2019 at 5:05 AM UTC
Oh Brexit!
Pharaoh Tutankhamun graced the Egyptian throne, A ***** brisk and spry. From his majestical hands, dangled a scepter And on his handsome head, sat a crown. His empire was at its peak For he wielded influence all over africa. The bearded Europeans and nubianS sought his protection For egypt, was a haven. So organised was the land: Amun-re and maat protected the people, The country grew with the help of viziers. Agriculture was a noble profession in the land, As her economic markets were the best in the world Egypt gave light to Greece and Mesopotamia For her civilisation altered many a life. And also, was the birth place of man Such, was the land of egypt The middle ages stroke and Europe went to sleep But mama africa gave birth to many strong children: Ghana, Mali, Songhai and many more These children shoke the world with their riches and organisation. Such was the history that africa recorded before they came. Fredriech Hegel in want of speech said: “Africa never had a history before the whites came.” Such a mediocre declaration from an illiterate For in place of his brain, graced a kidney. Africa was well civilised before the bearded people came: We had a religion We had education as seen in egypt We had a well organised system in all aspects. We had everything needed for prosperity, We attracted them with our gold, thus they came. But most of all, we believed in equality. Such was africa before they came But when the bearded people came, They altered our ways and put us in stocks Then said: “we had no history.” Oblivious that africa had made history, BEFORE AND BEFORE THE
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May 17, 2015
May 17, 2015 at 7:39 AM UTC
before
Pharaoh Tutankhamun graced the Egyptian throne, A ***** brisk and spry. From his majestical hands, dangled a scepter And on his handsome head, sat a crown. His empire was at its peak For he wielded influence all over africa. The bearded Europeans and nubianS sought his protection For egypt, was a haven. So organised was the land: Amun-re and maat protected the people, The country grew with the help of viziers. Agriculture was a noble profession in the land, As her economic markets were the best in the world Egypt gave light to Greece and Mesopotamia For her civilisation altered many a life. And also, was the birth place of man Such, was the land of egypt The middle ages stroke and Europe went to sleep But mama africa gave birth to many strong children: Ghana, Mali, Songhai and many more These children shoke the world with their riches and organisation. Such was the history that africa recorded before they came. Fredriech Hegel in want of speech said: “Africa never had a history before the whites came.” Such a mediocre declaration from an illiterate For in place of his brain, graced a kidney. Africa was well civilised before the bearded people came: We had a religion We had education as seen in egypt We had a well organised system in all aspects. We had everything needed for prosperity, We attracted them with our gold, thus they came. But most of all, we believed in equality. Such was africa before they came But when the bearded people came, They altered our ways and put us in stocks Then said: “we had no history.” Oblivious that africa had made history, BEFORE AND BEFORE THE
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new york glasses boy asks questions in auschwitz: were there americans in concentration camps? in krakow: are europeans a race? in budapest: are you okay? why don’t you want people to sing to you? at dinner i hide from the orange rubber cake people try to sing and i try to run after much mulling over a recycled candle i wish for a simple easy adulthood and contemplate flinging myself into the danube.
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Feb 25, 2014
Feb 25, 2014 at 1:00 PM UTC
i am a third wheel reeling thru seven countries
oh i can tell you why Brexit happened... apparently in light of the European i was not European enough, a mongrel, a ******* Mongol... eastern Europeans are Mongols, mind you...                 i'm pretty sure the Brexit vote happened... because the A8 joined...         when the Eatern European joined the old post-colonial powers... plenty of Pakistanis...      do i mind? do i ******* care?! i don't care... you deal with: the minding!     no...   i have an inheritance tax without any ceremonial                                 past... your **** is your ******* **** plus the Arab, and the curry... **** off!             i'm no ******* *vierte ***** pussy-whip... you ******* yo-yo oreo!         mind you? put me down on this one... i hate the Poles... i ******* hate the Poles...    what they did to the Chernobyl me? i hate the Polacks...     don't like them...                i'd rather spit than talk to them...    i've learned my lesson...                     i hate them more than the Germans, or the Russians... i hate them with the sort of hatred reserved for               patriots...   Judas Priests...    i abhor the ****** catholicism... it makes me... cringe...                 then i think: thickens the thong - better than the Islamic crap to mind making a boot... Brexit only happened because of the supposed invasion of the A8...    the Pakistani mobile gave off a jitter - somehow the "excess" Europeans migrated...               whites combined with whites... Europeans mingled... big problem for the Pakistanis... Brexit only happened because "eastern" Europe joined the *vierte *****   well... "joined"...       some of us had enough sense as to keep the currency...   ******* Pakistani bullshitters...   what?! i thought English girls loved being gang-rape-fucked?!   no?!    my bad...                 the joining of the A8 disrupted the presence of Britain in the EU...          thumbs up on the curry-sauce... thumbs down on the Baltic sauerkraut.... guess what?!                           **** you! you ******* British Empire bonkers...   relief contra racism with an Empire disintegrating!   wankers...                    sure, beseech alliances outside of Europe...   seek them, find them, govern them...       the next time you come shoveling your **** into my: awareness... i'll be asking... so... Rotherham...           no, not really... don't bother me with that sort of **** you deal with your ******** before shoving your ***** into my mouth expecting me to gargle on the produce...                you're closer to Pakistan than i am to Mongolia... you draw the the postcard... i'll draw the pretty picture. don't get me wrong, thought, i hate the Polacks... i don't belong between them...    i'd prefer to be strapped to a Hydra of homeless dogs... than exercise the humanity of a shared tongue with these... mongrels; mind you... the British are just as bad... when it comes to their, mongrel stature.
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Sep 17, 2018
Sep 17, 2018 at 6:54 PM UTC
the Mongols are coming! / scenes from Warsaw
oh i can tell you why Brexit happened... apparently in light of the European i was not European enough, a mongrel, a ******* Mongol... eastern Europeans are Mongols, mind you...                 i'm pretty sure the Brexit vote happened... because the A8 joined...         when the Eatern European joined the old post-colonial powers... plenty of Pakistanis...      do i mind? do i ******* care?! i don't care... you deal with: the minding!     no...   i have an inheritance tax without any ceremonial                                 past... your **** is your ******* **** plus the Arab, and the curry... **** off!             i'm no ******* *vierte ***** pussy-whip... you ******* yo-yo oreo!         mind you? put me down on this one... i hate the Poles... i ******* hate the Poles...    what they did to the Chernobyl me? i hate the Polacks...     don't like them...                i'd rather spit than talk to them...    i've learned my lesson...                     i hate them more than the Germans, or the Russians... i hate them with the sort of hatred reserved for               patriots...   Judas Priests...    i abhor the ****** catholicism... it makes me... cringe...                 then i think: thickens the thong - better than the Islamic crap to mind making a boot... Brexit only happened because of the supposed invasion of the A8...    the Pakistani mobile gave off a jitter - somehow the "excess" Europeans migrated...               whites combined with whites... Europeans mingled... big problem for the Pakistanis... Brexit only happened because "eastern" Europe joined the *vierte *****   well... "joined"...       some of us had enough sense as to keep the currency...   ******* Pakistani bullshitters...   what?! i thought English girls loved being gang-rape-fucked?!   no?!    my bad...                 the joining of the A8 disrupted the presence of Britain in the EU...          thumbs up on the curry-sauce... thumbs down on the Baltic sauerkraut.... guess what?!                           **** you! you ******* British Empire bonkers...   relief contra racism with an Empire disintegrating!   wankers...                    sure, beseech alliances outside of Europe...   seek them, find them, govern them...       the next time you come shoveling your **** into my: awareness... i'll be asking... so... Rotherham...           no, not really... don't bother me with that sort of **** you deal with your ******** before shoving your ***** into my mouth expecting me to gargle on the produce...                you're closer to Pakistan than i am to Mongolia... you draw the the postcard... i'll draw the pretty picture. don't get me wrong, thought, i hate the Polacks... i don't belong between them...    i'd prefer to be strapped to a Hydra of homeless dogs... than exercise the humanity of a shared tongue with these... mongrels; mind you... the British are just as bad... when it comes to their, mongrel stature.
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The Daily Mail, UK and Herald Sun (Australia) report on how Father Gabriele Amroth of the Vatican teaches that yoga and Harry Potter and the ‘oriental religions’ are the works of the Devil...the following poem  expresses my outrage at such stupidity and parochialism that still exists amongst some groups of Europeans even today in their relations with the East. song of Father Gabriele Amorth O yoga yoga baby baby sings Father Gabriele Amorth in the Italian town of Terni O yoga yoga no go no go to yoga yoga baby baby all you innocents and pure all blessed and destined for Heaven no go to yoga yoga yoga yoga yogurt is fine sugar in your yogurt is fine strawberry and apple in your yogurt is fine so eat eat your yogurt yogurt yogurt but yoga yoga O yoga yoga no go no go no go baby baby baby sings Father Gabriele Amorth in the Italian town of Terni and also no go to Harry Potter baby baby baby no go no go no go to yoga no to yoga and no go no go to Harry Potter baby baby baby now say after me: *yoga yoga yoga baa baa baa bad bad bad* and say after me: *Harry Potter Harry Potter moo moo moo bad bad bad* O baby baby baby at our next conference I’ll teach you how the Dragon is bad and how the Chinese got it all wrong all these centuries with their Chinese Dragon, Dragon, Dragon but that’s for next time next time next time baby baby baby for now just repeat after me your most reverend Father Gabriele Amorth in the Italian town of Terni: *O yoga yoga no go no go to yoga yoga baby baby* And say after me all ye faithful all ye blessed: *Harry Potter Harry Potter moo moo moo bad bad bad*
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Nov 26, 2011
Nov 26, 2011 at 10:38 PM UTC
song of Father Gabriele Amorth
The Daily Mail, UK and Herald Sun (Australia) report on how Father Gabriele Amroth of the Vatican teaches that yoga and Harry Potter and the ‘oriental religions’ are the works of the Devil...the following poem  expresses my outrage at such stupidity and parochialism that still exists amongst some groups of Europeans even today in their relations with the East. song of Father Gabriele Amorth O yoga yoga baby baby sings Father Gabriele Amorth in the Italian town of Terni O yoga yoga no go no go to yoga yoga baby baby all you innocents and pure all blessed and destined for Heaven no go to yoga yoga yoga yoga yogurt is fine sugar in your yogurt is fine strawberry and apple in your yogurt is fine so eat eat your yogurt yogurt yogurt but yoga yoga O yoga yoga no go no go no go baby baby baby sings Father Gabriele Amorth in the Italian town of Terni and also no go to Harry Potter baby baby baby no go no go no go to yoga no to yoga and no go no go to Harry Potter baby baby baby now say after me: *yoga yoga yoga baa baa baa bad bad bad* and say after me: *Harry Potter Harry Potter moo moo moo bad bad bad* O baby baby baby at our next conference I’ll teach you how the Dragon is bad and how the Chinese got it all wrong all these centuries with their Chinese Dragon, Dragon, Dragon but that’s for next time next time next time baby baby baby for now just repeat after me your most reverend Father Gabriele Amorth in the Italian town of Terni: *O yoga yoga no go no go to yoga yoga baby baby* And say after me all ye faithful all ye blessed: *Harry Potter Harry Potter moo moo moo bad bad bad*
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67
nothing wrong with Africans worshiping the sun and the Native Americans worshiping the Great Grand Father Sky and respecting Mother Earth unfortunately the Europeans conquered the new world through violence deception savagery lies deceit **** ****** colonization Christianity slavery apartheid genocide while the Europeans took land and resources from other nations enriching themselves and building their nations considered themselves superior to People of Color and Indigenous People throughout the world and the world would not be civilized without their intervention and the benevolent actions of europeans but we know that it's all about power and wealth that be the guiding light of good and evil
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Oct 11, 2015
Oct 11, 2015 at 1:28 AM UTC
The Guiding Light of Good and Evil
Bob sang about it Martin dreamed it John  and yoko did too Jo spoke out As Europeans we were close One world one love Leaders unite Listen to our past Make peace top of the pack Lets not go back Evolve for unity Let's get together and be that all inclusive one world One love
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Nov 23, 2016
Nov 23, 2016 at 1:45 PM UTC
One world one love
Increasingly there’s more in my life A life between barcode SIM Remote with apocalyptic news and dire pornographers life among multiple camera teams between several videos about a future that all sounds good blocks of life between advertising and surveys on how Europeans can achieve the cosmic ****** and a more profitable single currency living ever more my own life inside an inland country where in waiting and loneliness I see greetings from where I hope to reach the Himalayas and write: ‘Life is no good with Coca-Cola!’ Dan Mircea Cipariu [Translated by Jon a’Beckett] New Europe Writers  Bucharest Tales, Contemporary Literature Press, Bucharest 2014
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Jun 10, 2014
Jun 10, 2014 at 6:06 AM UTC
"Bungee jumping"
Her glistening brown locks fall to her side like a waterfall slowly spraying water at its edge. Her soft yet tender lips create a beautiful curvature similar to that of an hourglass. Her beautiful eyes compliment her visage, with stunning hues of deep and royal blue. Her cheekbones are raised and set, like the great Europeans of the past. Her skin is so clean and clear, it's like looking through a crystal shard. With all of these combinations, she is every bit of perfection as she sounds.
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Aug 3, 2014
Aug 3, 2014 at 4:22 AM UTC
Perfection
the one drop rule invisible blackness black versus white different categories of race created by man for evil purposes such as caucasoid negroid and mongoloid this is a bunch of hooey these words are just terms for marginalising whole groups of people by some smarty pant with a so-called degree in anthropology and sociology who gives people the right to classify other racial groups I pondered it - anyway just blue smoke and mirror stuff created by some racist people organizations and institutions by creating racial and class division plus religion creating wars thus God created man - singular form thus God created man from the earth (black mud) and no accident that we are made from one blood oh yeah - Adam's blood mankind is just a very large extended family - based on DNA Europeans are not 100% white they became white because of environmental adaptations and they are no better that the rest of God's creations on earth skin color does not make one racial group superior than another this is just a head and mind game for social and political advantages however everyone is a Heinz 57 mixture White People are mixed with so much stuff - too oh yeah baby and who is your daddy now race mixing has been around throughout the history of mankind and still it will continue to mix races in the future just remember this the neanderthal mated on a regular basis with the homosapien no race is 100% pure of anything according to one drop rule - White are neanderthals too this one drop rule is a silly and hidden taboo that is just plain ludicrous God is a good God God is neither Black nor White but He is a Being of Existence of every dimension God is the all of everything - seen and unseen God exist in every creation God is a part of you and me the will of God lives in every place God is justice and equality God don't speech hate and racism God is love and peace toward all mankind God does not make men slaves God gives man the right to be free God wants man to be inherit the earth and be good stewards Well ain't God good no matter how you look at it yes He is good - all the time my brother yes god is good and everlasting amen amen amen
0
Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 10:31 PM UTC
The One Drop Rule
the one drop rule invisible blackness black versus white different categories of race created by man for evil purposes such as caucasoid negroid and mongoloid this is a bunch of hooey these words are just terms for marginalising whole groups of people by some smarty pant with a so-called degree in anthropology and sociology who gives people the right to classify other racial groups I pondered it - anyway just blue smoke and mirror stuff created by some racist people organizations and institutions by creating racial and class division plus religion creating wars thus God created man - singular form thus God created man from the earth (black mud) and no accident that we are made from one blood oh yeah - Adam's blood mankind is just a very large extended family - based on DNA Europeans are not 100% white they became white because of environmental adaptations and they are no better that the rest of God's creations on earth skin color does not make one racial group superior than another this is just a head and mind game for social and political advantages however everyone is a Heinz 57 mixture White People are mixed with so much stuff - too oh yeah baby and who is your daddy now race mixing has been around throughout the history of mankind and still it will continue to mix races in the future just remember this the neanderthal mated on a regular basis with the homosapien no race is 100% pure of anything according to one drop rule - White are neanderthals too this one drop rule is a silly and hidden taboo that is just plain ludicrous God is a good God God is neither Black nor White but He is a Being of Existence of every dimension God is the all of everything - seen and unseen God exist in every creation God is a part of you and me the will of God lives in every place God is justice and equality God don't speech hate and racism God is love and peace toward all mankind God does not make men slaves God gives man the right to be free God wants man to be inherit the earth and be good stewards Well ain't God good no matter how you look at it yes He is good - all the time my brother yes god is good and everlasting amen amen amen
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Oh Aztec watching from your Rustic home, for my dignity Do you have any advice? For my poor state of being,any riches? No wisdom for my inexperience? Oh Aztec warrior who lays brick For homes he will never own, Don't you understand by right of Superiority and sweat and blood And tears from tyranny this should Be your dream as well?! Don't you see the Spaniards robbed You once and the Europeans once again Stole what is rightfully yours? Don't you know you are Aztec? Aztec, mighty spear in hand, Or is that a shovel? Your eyes with proud gleam in them, Or is that a tear of despair? What are you here for Aztec? Why have you silenced the dreams? Oh race of my forefathers, Bring about the impenetrable heart, The joy with pleasure, The suffering with grief; Tears of the Aztec sun! Yours is the blood in my veins, By that blood blank stares at the Liquor stores, I swear by that blood that I will Rise once again and once more Into the day of my life and fill My song with a forgotten pride, I will wonder where the Aztec Has gone, though his dream Remains unseen, his people Remain in shards.
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Jan 16, 2016
Jan 16, 2016 at 3:38 PM UTC
Aztec Dreams
Is there a doctor in the house? I think I'm having southern withdrawl symptoms shakes and such brain a blubbering mess why give one so much feeling if they can't get rid of it healthily? Too much for one body to handle maybe throw in another personality nothing bad ever happend just a technical problem during manufacturing a wire connected wrong or not connected at all amygdala super sensitive looking for comfort in wrong places stupid faces blazing aces therapists are kind but really need a map words only convey so much can't help if they can't understand whose fault is that? Probably the broken robot me doesn't speak in proper vernacular accustomed to being freakish and safe greasing joints with ***** circuit boards of tofu scramble electric feed back every once in a while when I cough perhaps new meds will calm overactive internal reactions or maybe being all vulnerable to candy hearted young men spilling secrets and insecurities to friends but they'll all leave right? Europeans had no problem taking over lands staying with natives eating their foods but if the natives had shared their deepest secrets and feelings pilgrims would have gladly returned home for persecution than to put up with an emotional Squanto.
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Jun 12, 2012
Jun 12, 2012 at 1:16 PM UTC
Geese Eggs