"foriegn" poems
the was a little squirrel a funny chap was he
looking for adventure upon the deep blue sea
he built a little raft from logs upon the ground
tied them all together till securely bound
then he set a sail for some foriegn shore
some where he could go never been before
he packed lots of nuts and things that he might need
organized was he. a clever chap indeed
after quite a while on the sea of blue
suddenly an island had come in to his view
squirrel was excited and landed on the shore
in this foreign land he never saw before
he took a look around to see what there might be
then he saw a monkey sitting in a tree
monkey he was friendly and he said hello
to the little squirrel that he didnt know
they began to play on the golden sand
happy and content in this far off land
they built a little table for a picnic treat
then searched along the island for things they could eat
they began there picnic underneath the sun
sat down both together for there picnic fun
then they took a walk decided to explore
looking for adventure on the foriegn shore
they found a treasure chest that was very old
when they looked inside it had lots of gold
there were golden rings and some goblets too
lots of golden coins there were quite a few
now they both were rich on the island they did stay
and made a home together in this land so faraway
Apr 15, 2014
Apr 15, 2014 at 11:42 AM UTC
little danny dog adventure bound was he
he built himself a boat and set out to sea
sailing on the ocean underneath the sun
looking for adventure in search of lots of fun.
after quite a while a day or maybe more
he saw a little island on a foriegn shore
dog he went ashore to see what there could be
there was lots of sand a big palm tree.
then walked around ready to explore
to see what he could find on the island shore
suddenly he saw a parrot in a tree
hello the parrot said come and play with me.
danny was delighted and they began to play
having lots fun in this land so far away
playing in the sand swimming in the sea
dog was having fun as happy as can be.
then they had a picnic with lots of food to eat
laid out on a blanket also nice and neat
then the sun when down time for doggys bed
he made himself a hammock to rest his weary head.
with parrot by his side they both began to snore
his adventure had been fun on this foriegn shore
Jul 29, 2014
Jul 29, 2014 at 2:33 PM UTC
little mr mole he was sad one day
he packed himself a case and took a trip away.
boarded on a plane far across the sea
searching for some fun adventure bound was he.
he landed in hawii in search of lots of fun
in this foriegn land with lots of sea and sun.
he bought himself a surfboard and a snorkel to
see he could surf and swim in the sea so blue.
surfing on the waves and swimming on the reef
seeing all the creatures that live underneath
different colored fish and a seahorse to
lots of different shell fish there were quite a few.
he was very happy as he was before
is adventure had been fun and he was sad no more.
Jul 16, 2014
Jul 16, 2014 at 8:14 AM UTC
the was a little squirrel a funny chap was he
looking for adventure upon the deep blue sea
he built a little raft from logs upon the ground
tied them all together till securely bound
then he set a sail for some foriegn shore
some where he could go never been before
he packed lots of nuts and things that he might need
organized was he. a clever chap indeed
after quite a while on the sea of blue
suddenly an island came in to his view
squirrel was excited and landed on the shore
in this foreign land he had never been before
he took a look around to see what there might be
then he saw a monkey sitting in a tree
monkey he was friendly and he said hello
to the little squirrel that he didnt know
they began to play on the golden sand
happy and content in this far off land
they built a little table for a picnic treat
then searched along the island for things they could eat
they began there picnic underneath the sun
sat down both together for there picnic fun
then they took a walk decided to explore
looking for adventure on the foriegn shore
they found a treasure chest that was very old
when they looked inside it had lots of gold
there were golden rings and some goblets too
lots of golden coins there were quite a few
now they both were rich on the island they did stay
and made a home together in this land so faraway
Mar 10, 2015
Mar 10, 2015 at 8:42 AM UTC
Oh how I'd love that
and from a San Francisco organization no less
a month in the Santa Cruz mountains, no less
the most liberal city in America no less
and last year's winner has his picture displayed
and it is not innovative or interesting or shocking but all too predictable
Like something I saw how long now has it been? twenty five years ago...
how many times have I seen this picture
a white guy, looking very much the suffering, creating artiste
handsome, like an actor, but not an actor, a creator of meaning
of art, and he can't smile, but looks away from the camera
mimicking an ad for J. Crew
it's amazing how only white men can write about the important things in the world
and the background, how many times before have I seen it
a graffiti sprinkled nowhere in an urban jungle
somewhere where preppy white guys never go
street art, street communication created by people
who don't see this concrete as an exotic backdrop for their egoistic posing
but as a part of their lives, as part of their meaning, their world
and he stands there, in front of it,
Mr. Screenwriter, the gulf of culture separating him from that background
spans the entire country, or an entire universe
but the implication of the picture is: he is home here
this is who he is and he can emcompass everything, since white men
as we know, have a magic ability to understand and synthesize everyone
all genders, all races, all religions
the rest of us are merely stuck in our own myopic little worlds
of gender, race, socio-economic status
but these spanner of time and space and human difference, they can be anyone
they can understand and represent anyone
So I look at the picture
and think, I could apply, but I'm busy during the blissful month of the residency
but how dissapointing, that I feel looking at this picture, now online of course
that it is the same picture that I looked at over twenty five years ago
pinned to a film school wall
in Los Angeles, in New York, in those edgy more conservative places
and it is the same guy. the white screenwriter artist who will write about me
and others and it will be a lie
and we are excluded. all the rest of the human race.
but what he writes will be exalted as truth
when I know, that no matter how time he spends wandering
the foriegn worlds of ghettos and genders
the one thing he knows, the only thing he knows how to write about is
white guys, because he is no superhuman
he is like us. He will write about white guys and there will be
more films about white guys, who are supposed to represent all of us
but they don't, because they are only human,
and can only represent themselves.
Jun 19, 2013
Jun 19, 2013 at 12:29 PM UTC
religeous rulers point the way,
prophets promise glory day,
we selected you to stand,
die for power, greed, and land,
heaven waits with golden gates,
eternity and peace awaits.
prime minister, or president,
never go where you get sent,
politicians telling lies,
young men dream thro rambo eyes,
fight for country, king or queen,
blood on your hands, mine are clean.
misled martyrs, fighting wars,
greedy leaders selfish cause,
soldiers bleed on foriegn sand,
frontline battles cowards planned,
no turkey this year wrapped in foil,
fight for freedom....or is it oil?
Feb 2, 2010
Feb 2, 2010 at 12:42 PM UTC
I am running through the woods
away from the paths and into the brush
white ribbon unravels in the breeze threw the
branches and the trees
my white dress trails behind my
fleeing legs
my chest beats wildly
the suns rays escaping the canopy
kissing the floor
a bed of leaves and little creepy crawling things
Slow motion scene
calling like a crow
For the lost love I once knew
reaching grounds my feet dont know
foriegn the feeling of searching for you
I hear a loud beeping piercing the forest
and I stop dead and look to the sky
My eyes open breathless and shaken
and I turn on my pillow to see you sleeping
so sound and sweetly beside me
I swore just then in the early dawn
while shutting my alarm before disturbing you
That I'd never loose you again
Nov 9, 2012
Nov 9, 2012 at 11:39 AM UTC
Trapped inside a mongrel's mind,
twisted, turning, lurid, divine
Aimlessly wandering halls, dimly lit
by candles on the walls
where spiders like to sit
where I come across a case
wooden and dusty
filled with books neatly spaced
the spines filled with foreign words
and stood up by tigers
either mis-colored or rusty
Examining the books with gentle care
when something caught my eye's corner
with a glance to the left and with great rise
was the grand spiral stair, where
splayed meekly on the rise of the walls
was the blood of men and a statue of great size
A serpent, fangs dowsed in rustic red blood
and tail curled around with eyes beading above
seemed to smile with a large bulge along its golden belly
With shudder I wondered what beast sated the statues hunger
My feet, frozen in wonder of serpents message
did not venture forward as my eyes read the ****** paint
For, as my eyes gazed at the dried blood, I noticed sound so faint
Drip. Drop. Drip. Down the rail of the grand old stair
dripped water onto the marble floor, puddling there
And in the pool of the water, a message did reflect
The symbols were foriegn, yet I read them anyway
How, I couldn't suspect and who could say
Even as I muttered the words I backed away in respect
*This is the easy way to heaven,
or so say the men where holywater's bestowed
But this is where the Serpent herds his devon,
You may climb the stairs, but down his throat you'll go*
Jan 29, 2012
Jan 29, 2012 at 10:38 PM UTC
an earth spilled you soft
onto meadows of grass
and arms lifted you up
with bottle neck glass
boiling deep foriegn squall
of aluminum shards,
hardened sweat celebrations
strewn over the yard
remember these nets
and this slickness of sands
is strange to you too
a strange set of hands
that pulls the sky from you
and forgets how to breathe
and stills a soft meadow
your mother's bereaved.
Jan 26, 2012
Jan 26, 2012 at 8:12 PM UTC
She swears she's exotic
cut from a foriegn sheet
no fruit tastes as sweet
not even a mango.
So ripe and edible
perched on her seat
her hands grasp her feet
my mouth all wet.
Tongue ready to tango
stomach wants to eat
throat feels the heat
completely hypnotic.
I bite, but im upset
anticipating the treat
just flavors of meat
she's not so credible.
Nov 17, 2010
Nov 17, 2010 at 6:51 PM UTC
As a child I never knew the colour of my skin made a difference to the person within
I never looked at myself wishing I was someone else
I never had to stand in line or in a place sat behind
I never had to take a seat, at the back that was there only for me
No one ever refused to serve me because my hair was black and curly
No one ever made a joke because my eyes had a slope
I never had to appologise for the colour I was inside but judged on the outside
That's because my skin is white and hides all of me that's inside
It hides the struggles my forebears had for being foriegn and blended black
A mix that was made from love alone when someone said enoughs enough!
So the colour of a loving heart that joins another to give a child is all in all who we are
No white no black just what's inside and no more from fear should we hide
Look inside we are so much more than a label another put on us
Close your eyes we are all the same
Is it so hard for you to love that way?
Aug 16, 2016
Aug 16, 2016 at 2:45 PM UTC
Laughter
as we watch our comedies on
nbc nightly tuesdays
Ben and kate
two broke girls
what the ****
As a secret slaughter goes on
And the genocide of a million minds
happens without us evening knowing what's going on
we laugh and we laugh
as our children get fater
our oceans get dirtier with foriegn oil
our earth aches in pain
our tv keeps distracting us
as the sun is waiting to explode
I hope a solar storm happens
so it knocks out every network
so our minds are free
and then maybe we will look outside our window again
maybe then we will see what is truly going on
the true terroism is just a click away
Fox news and media flaunting there depression pills
and the main predator is these pharmaceutical companies
telling us were sick and need help
so we rush to get the fix
when really its a sick twisted david copperfield trick
but whatever
let's keep watching 30 rock and snl
as our lives slowly fall into a hell
a living hell
a living comedy
what a disgrace
what a waste
take a look in your community
poverty is next door
its funny how we think were so safe
in america were like a mouse in a maze
cept there is no exit
were trapped
were trapped
not me I free my mind
and spread the word
threw words and writes
because if anything
Ill make this right
ill carry on the fight
ill make it right
and ill open that door
to shine light into this blind folded world
Feb 8, 2013
Feb 8, 2013 at 11:28 AM UTC
Little boy
Who do you weep?
A father?
A mother?
A sister drowned in a river so deep
Little boy
Why do you weep?
the colorful holdiay has turned bleak
Happy children drowned
Corpses drifted along the stream
Dawn begun with joy
And the sun sat with grief
Little boy
Don't hide your tears
For the life you knew is gone for good
The pain, once so foriegn, is now close
Life, once smiling, has frowned
Family, oh how loving, has drowned
Little boy
Let me sit beside you and weep
A tragedy that dimmed the joy of Eid
The souls who flew toward the sky
Along with the smoke of festival's fire
Lit on mountain tops, so high.
Mar 22, 2019
Mar 22, 2019 at 2:20 PM UTC
my rose colored glasses
cannot censor the fear
i feel in the presence of him.
like a suspect,
the lady-like lenses crack under pressure
when his hand conveniently slips
on a busy night.
bustling, blinding, blending
right into the blur are his hands
guiding my anxieties and insecurities through the roof
as he grants himself permission
to lust my body the way no one has ever done before.
and i feel the foriegn touch
unwelcome on my adolescent hips.
but still i stand with a padlock over my trembling lips.
Dec 4, 2017
Dec 4, 2017 at 12:17 AM UTC
I am such a wretched man living in a foriegn land. No good work comes from my hand's.
The words that flow from my mouth are proceed from a wicked heart.
I know you by your name.
Your love covers me casting a shadow of shame. Your innocence was subsituted by my guilt. It was my sin and yet you took the blame. You know me by my name.
You seen my heart. My flesh was woven with weeds and thorns. You called out to me, I heard you and my sin departs. You justified a man because you love me and it breaks my heart.
Your presence is upon me, I am convicted. I ask for forgivness and then depart. I went from your light back into the dark. I clung to you. You held me, you know my heart.
I am so sinful. My every action is against you. My every plan is a plot. I wage war against you and your mercy sustains me as I continue in the dark.
I could have died so many times but you save me. I could of fallen but you hold onto me. You always have my best interest when to me you are just a passing thought.
I fear your lashings but I reverence you because of who you are. You are the creator of all things! I am the child you sought. Your perfect son was given so that my sin would be baught.
I am forgiven and you are an after thought. I am unworthy, undeserving and ungrateful, this is what breaks my heart. You are merciful, giving and you never depart. You walk with me every day while I plot against you and spit in your face.
You saved my life and I curse your name. You changed everything and yet in me I walk the same. Your grace is upon me. Father I want to change. Will you forgive me and show me the way.
-RSC
Nov 23, 2019
Nov 23, 2019 at 8:36 AM UTC
meanwhile,
back at the ranch,
.....or hacienda or suburban condo,
the young suburban ma'am
was weeping, 'n cryingn 'n sobbing,
having thrown herself down on her
soft, velvet covered chaise lounge.
"where are you Manly Cowboy?"
she wept
"wherefore did thou go?"
"whyfore have you doth forsaken me so?"
"in my hour of need?"
Boo hoo hoo hoo
the wailing was reaching a rather
intense volume,
so much so,
that,
soon,
there was a knock at the door.
wiping her tears from her
bright red swollen eyes and cheeks,
with her delicately embroidered
handkerchief,
her long white gosling robed gown
trailing her as,
she went to the door.
opening it,
what did she see?
but standing there,
there stood,
the,
most,
handsome, tall,
muscular man
of a manly plumber
she had ever seen.
said he,
"i couldn't but help to be
overhearing
your pitiful wails.
and i thought you might
need some help.
anything i can do to
assist you ma'am?"
WELL...
thought she,
this is the best iimprovement
in many a long day,
since the Manly Cowboy
had gone away.
"yes, you can" replied she
"would you like to come in
and take a cup of tea
with me?"
......not so fast,
we're not done
with this one.
"certainly, i would" replied he,
"and, well, ma'am, if it isn't any
trouble for you,
i'd really prefer something
a little stronger,
per chance, do you have
any beer?"
"why yes i do." says she
"cold?" asks he
"as a snowball in hell." she replied
the manly plumber strode in,
his tools jangling about
his firm hips and strong legs.
excusing herself,
she went to the kitchen and
opened up two beers.
pouring one in a tall glass,
over ice,
she poured an eighth of the other
into another
and finished filling it up
by adding warm water
from the tap.
she did this to prevent herself
from getting too tipsy
as she was dehydrated from
all of her crying.
out she walked,
two tall glasses
in hand,
she handed one to him
and looked over the other.
the first shy smile
her sweet face
had seen in a while,
began creeping up.
since,
now? who had gone???
the manly cowboy
lying on his back
of some foriegn land,
looked up and
saw a star twinkling
high in the sky,
and he smiled.
Sep 20, 2015
Sep 20, 2015 at 12:27 PM UTC
When the bombs fell, the world put on a different dress
It wasn’t made of silk and cotton, but of charred flesh
The waters turned to rot, the life seemed to disappear
The beds of the young became fire, they didn’t have a chance to fear
When the bombs fell, humanity took a hard swig
For it knew of the damage done, it was already feeling sick
As the screams echoed a hellish cry; safety a fairy tale, comfort a goodbye
The streets cracked with dread and despair, nothing more to be
When the bombs fell, God was merely away
Jesus seemed to be foriegn, the Devil a mere ghost
For this was something beyond evil, it was something more cold
It was the smile of darkness, a black smile across the bodies
When the bombs fell, nothing was organic
It was twisted monstrosity, of inhuman conduction
Gods black tears flowed the sewers, the hymns under the chaos
The angel of death burnt away, as the smoke never cleared
When the bombs fell, it was horror of mind
The comprehension of it all, never was fully aware
These moments came, and would never be again
They were gone, charred to the tune of atomic choirs
When the bombs fell, it was something
Mere words can never say, what it truly was
It was something disgusting, something vile
something of humanities own creation, the sickest feeling of it all
Jul 21, 2015
Jul 21, 2015 at 4:01 PM UTC
Whence did thou enter my heart
my soul
devour me with thy passion
it doth whelm me
in somewhat of
a musical fashion
a classicals softness
sings in my ears
fused with rock and roll
tis what I hear
how is it that thou dost play
such song
foriegn to my time
hast thou been forward
to another asterism
to another life
whence did thou enter my heart
milleniums ago
or those yet to see
perhaps there twasnt a time
but always were
Nov 15, 2009
Nov 15, 2009 at 10:31 AM UTC
His smile was infectious,his dimples imprinted in my mind.
I emulated his smile like it was mine all mine.
I knew him when love was foriegn,and a touch meant nothing ,and nothing became something and something meant everything.
We knew love had no space
trying to force it in a tight place .
Hating but knowing we should give it a break.
Anticipation ,there was no other intoxication for me ,when your hands hugged my hips ,when you kissed my lips
Lost in your eyes ,our hearts found its way back, as if love was on reserve for a moment .
So we could find who we are .And you are me and I am you when we're together.
Apr 16, 2015
Apr 16, 2015 at 6:59 AM UTC
In desperate need of water or food
one would not need love.
In search of the sun the moon and the stars
one would not need love.
In the absence of shelter and warmth
one would not need love.
If blinded by the truth and stumbling down
one would not need love.
If cast away on a foriegn shore poor and broken
one would not need love.
If drowning in a sea of hardened tomorrows
one would not need love.
If sleeping and barely breathing in the dark
one would not need love.
Jul 9, 2010
Jul 9, 2010 at 4:06 AM UTC
little billy badger adventure bound was he
decided he would sail far across the sea
he packed up his things built himself a boat
now billy he was ready to set himself afloat.
he headed out to sea ready to explore
looking for adventure on some exotic shore
after quite sometime billy saw some land
a great big desert island full of golden sand.
billy went ashore to see what he could see
for any signs of life that there just might be
suddenly he heard a parrot in a tree
he began to talk a friendly chap was he.
now billy had a friend now had company
in this far of land far across the sea
the strolled along together ready to explore
to see what they could find on this foriegn shore.
they searched along the island to see what they could find
maybe buried treasure that was left behind
they found a little cross marked out on the sand
billy started digging parrot gave an hand
suddenly they found a hidden treasure chest
then they got it open and took a little rest
it was full of gold. goblets coins and rings
jewelery galore and lots of other things.
billy he was happy so was parrot too
his dreams of finding treasure really had come true
he settled on the island decided he would stay
with his friend the parrot in a land so far away
Feb 2, 2016
Feb 2, 2016 at 12:54 PM UTC
soon it will be summer its not far away
time for lots of fun on your summer holiday
time to see the sites that youve been longing for
in a foriegn country where youve never been before
kids they have there break its time to have there fun
playing on the beach underneath the sun
time for lots of pleasure and lots of things to do
time you can enjoy for week or two
Apr 27, 2010
Apr 27, 2010 at 2:23 PM UTC
Freeman on the land is worth two in the hand
believe you me its hard to understand
how to make one mend with the other
without the other feeling smothered
at birth we emerge with one last surge
swooped away tagged and weighed
registered like some foriegn cargo ship
certified then denied selling freedom lies
conditioned the schooler with the golden ruler
we sinned with social security pins
at 14 did we see what we should have seen
or just a false sense of security
did we willingly voluntarily and intentionally
enter into these one sided contracts naively
ignorance had a different meaning
relying on employer seeking to empower by
continuesly consuming and devouring
returning to the land as a flesh n blood being
living modestly circled and truely free again
Dec 5, 2011
Dec 5, 2011 at 8:40 PM UTC
it has been a week
a big week
full of turmoil and upset
goverments dying
to be reborm
people dying to be
something other or else
words spinning, spitting hate
words tripping, traveling around
creating hope and seeding love
flotsam and jetsam
landing on shores
both foriegn and known
big thing going on
going down
...and yet you still have time
to sit and rub my feet
...and I still have time to let you
life continues.....a pace
Nov 11, 2016
Nov 11, 2016 at 4:57 AM UTC
we speak of truth and of heart
when the truth is we dont know how to settle our rambling hearts
they speak of curiousty and merit
they make us wear it
some on our sleeves
other bend to there knees
to feel relief to hear it speak
its simple elegant and a true remark
so let it roam and tangle
in the webs of life
dont worry we all will hear one day
the truth of the heart is a foriegn tounge
speeks so strong
all i know is to smoke
the sound away
laying down
dreaming of the next day
we sing
we preach
while the heart sleeps
while we fade
and fade
and fade my dear
a vibrant melody
a lushish trance
hows the heart dance
a beautiful earthquake that quivers
and quivers
the soul of the human race
with each morning wake and each nights rest
the heart oh how it dances
Jan 20, 2011
Jan 20, 2011 at 5:45 PM UTC