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"fredrick" poems
Hidden Weapon By: James Desire See me walking on the vacant street What’s your first thought? Black kid up to no good See me- surrounded by others, my brothers What is your second thought? Black kid in some gang Must be tattooed and tough Discrimination- Hidden Weapon See the clothes I am wearing Big baggy pants, dark Du-Rag and Ripped shirt What is your final thought? Poor old ****** living in a ghetto Discrimination- Hidden Weapon Now Listen, You see me jetting through the silent streets What would you assume then? Arrest! Call the cops Must have been a ****** a robbery, Another black boy crime Discrimination- Hidden Weapon I am just a black boy trying to survive Trying to enjoy-just to stay alive On the street People judging me cause The blackness of my skin The types of clothes I’m in Discrimination- Hidden Weapon Unsuspecting black child taunted, haunted… Fearing that one word-nigga Should I be blamed for crimes committed in the past? Choice-less decisions made Pressure reaches ****** Everything seems lost At the end I feel blamed Nevertheless, I blame you Whites Rejecting Hurting Me- hopeful Pride-earned-not given Defending Defending my dignity Discrimination- Hidden Weapon Should I be judged/blamed for past generations? Then, blame me for… The jazz of Louis Armstrong The voice of Billie Holiday The poetry of Langston Hughes The photography of Gordon Parks The character of Martin Luther King Jr. The power of Coretta Scott King The dignity of Fredrick Douglas Finally, the individuality of James Desire You seek evil in blacks The past has also proven a positive… A positive outcome That helped the development… OF OUR WORLD!
0
Sep 24, 2010
Sep 24, 2010 at 11:07 AM UTC
Hidden Weapon
Hidden Weapon By: James Desire See me walking on the vacant street What’s your first thought? Black kid up to no good See me- surrounded by others, my brothers What is your second thought? Black kid in some gang Must be tattooed and tough Discrimination- Hidden Weapon See the clothes I am wearing Big baggy pants, dark Du-Rag and Ripped shirt What is your final thought? Poor old ****** living in a ghetto Discrimination- Hidden Weapon Now Listen, You see me jetting through the silent streets What would you assume then? Arrest! Call the cops Must have been a ****** a robbery, Another black boy crime Discrimination- Hidden Weapon I am just a black boy trying to survive Trying to enjoy-just to stay alive On the street People judging me cause The blackness of my skin The types of clothes I’m in Discrimination- Hidden Weapon Unsuspecting black child taunted, haunted… Fearing that one word-nigga Should I be blamed for crimes committed in the past? Choice-less decisions made Pressure reaches ****** Everything seems lost At the end I feel blamed Nevertheless, I blame you Whites Rejecting Hurting Me- hopeful Pride-earned-not given Defending Defending my dignity Discrimination- Hidden Weapon Should I be judged/blamed for past generations? Then, blame me for… The jazz of Louis Armstrong The voice of Billie Holiday The poetry of Langston Hughes The photography of Gordon Parks The character of Martin Luther King Jr. The power of Coretta Scott King The dignity of Fredrick Douglas Finally, the individuality of James Desire You seek evil in blacks The past has also proven a positive… A positive outcome That helped the development… OF OUR WORLD!
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62
✿⊰✲⊱✿ At the sound of my name, I see the faces turn and smiles of many friends; Queen Sue of Ruikruya in her lilac silks, Queen Sarita of Khaikar in orange silks, Queen Deb of Daegeral in magenta, Queen Kim of Geniael in creams, Queen Robin of Naeneiana in periwinkles, Queen Fawn of Yuamor in red-violets, Queen Dawn of Khesian in dandelion-orange, Queen Jugnu of Enuryn in jade-greens, Queen Yidna of Puhan in indigos, Queen Cne of Phelyra in turquoise, Queen Xaela of Lonusea in peach, Queen Ayumi of Wadia in tan-gold, Queen Sheila of Naizzuzia in cornflower-blue, Queen Stars of Yurithireatha in green-yellow ✿⊰✲⊱✿ King Edmund and his wife in matching forest-greens attires, King Omni of Khaniel in silvers, King Emeka of Ghalali in white, King Devon of Monait in blue-violets, King Fugue of Thavia in blacks, King Yacov of Igrador in olive-green, King Joseph of Eaqellurene in bronze, King Fredrick of Emirinait in mauve, King Rob of Balan in sea-green, King John of Khesian in melon-red, King Aslam of Ikaesa in deep plum, King Brandon of Huarean in ocher, King Kikodinho of Izugalla in taupe, King Jobira of Zavalon in orange-red and many many more. ✿⊰✲⊱✿ And last but not least, King Paul of Luciuscemi himself in emerald-and-gold. He wears his favourite emerald green jacket with ruby buttons, bright gold embroidery of suns and lions; his sleeves stitched with pearls and rubies to match the red sash across his chest; his trousers black as are his boots, but even they have gold laces.
0
Aug 26, 2018
Aug 26, 2018 at 6:17 AM UTC
❀❁ тнє gαlα VII (I of II) ❁❀
✿⊰✲⊱✿ At the sound of my name, I see the faces turn and smiles of many friends; Queen Sue of Ruikruya in her lilac silks, Queen Sarita of Khaikar in orange silks, Queen Deb of Daegeral in magenta, Queen Kim of Geniael in creams, Queen Robin of Naeneiana in periwinkles, Queen Fawn of Yuamor in red-violets, Queen Dawn of Khesian in dandelion-orange, Queen Jugnu of Enuryn in jade-greens, Queen Yidna of Puhan in indigos, Queen Cne of Phelyra in turquoise, Queen Xaela of Lonusea in peach, Queen Ayumi of Wadia in tan-gold, Queen Sheila of Naizzuzia in cornflower-blue, Queen Stars of Yurithireatha in green-yellow ✿⊰✲⊱✿ King Edmund and his wife in matching forest-greens attires, King Omni of Khaniel in silvers, King Emeka of Ghalali in white, King Devon of Monait in blue-violets, King Fugue of Thavia in blacks, King Yacov of Igrador in olive-green, King Joseph of Eaqellurene in bronze, King Fredrick of Emirinait in mauve, King Rob of Balan in sea-green, King John of Khesian in melon-red, King Aslam of Ikaesa in deep plum, King Brandon of Huarean in ocher, King Kikodinho of Izugalla in taupe, King Jobira of Zavalon in orange-red and many many more. ✿⊰✲⊱✿ And last but not least, King Paul of Luciuscemi himself in emerald-and-gold. He wears his favourite emerald green jacket with ruby buttons, bright gold embroidery of suns and lions; his sleeves stitched with pearls and rubies to match the red sash across his chest; his trousers black as are his boots, but even they have gold laces.
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44
And then we are called Negro’s and feel like that is so much better. As if it’s not the same derogatory word now its just more “sophisticated.” Used in lyric like it’s the only word that rhymes with everything. Since its 2010 you think we are not like Emmett Till, but we are. The only difference is we shoot our own guns and one by one we make our own selves obsolete. The “N” word flowing out of the mouths of our newer generations as if it’s the government given name stamped on every black persons’ birth certificate. Like there was never a revolution Like there was never a fight to bring us up to what is seemingly equal to everyone else. You are what brings us down again. Hearing the yells of one black man to another in conversation “can a ***** get…” (insert a stereotypical ending here) No a ***** can’t get nothin’. That is what has been repeatedly told to the race as a whole. Burned into our minds like the branding of a cow. Each time the “N” word is uttered out of another’s mouth its like a gravitational pull that scientist have yet to discover. More powerful than any black hole. Like ***** in a barrel. We strive to keep the others at our level. Ask Fredrick Douglas, it’s his expertise… As he was one of the original ****** Breakers; we have multiplied the frequency and have unknowingly become professionals at something we never strived to be. The “N” word flows out of our mouths and through the air like the historical dance it took to get us here. The dance we have long forgotten but our bodies seem to react the same way whenever an Anglo-Saxon uses our coveted word. Like it wasn’t the word they yelled as they made permanent welts on our backs that would last generations Like it wasn’t what they yelled at us to strip away every individualistic quality They referred to us as if we were herds Like it wasn’t their term to begin with. We should let them have it. We are like the modern generations of our ancestral princes and princesses of Africa. As powerful as they once were, we have mastered fields that others wish they had a chance to accomplish in. We were built to overcome any obstacle.Other than the obstacle of getting out of our own way. It is no longer like the underground railroad. There are no hounds chasing us through the waters. ****** should no longer be the tether that holds us down We have the ability to soar like a majestic bird that shall always remain unnamed. As ****** we are nothing. As African American’s we are an impenetrable strength.
0
Dec 31, 2011
Dec 31, 2011 at 12:00 PM UTC
The "N" word
And then we are called Negro’s and feel like that is so much better. As if it’s not the same derogatory word now its just more “sophisticated.” Used in lyric like it’s the only word that rhymes with everything. Since its 2010 you think we are not like Emmett Till, but we are. The only difference is we shoot our own guns and one by one we make our own selves obsolete. The “N” word flowing out of the mouths of our newer generations as if it’s the government given name stamped on every black persons’ birth certificate. Like there was never a revolution Like there was never a fight to bring us up to what is seemingly equal to everyone else. You are what brings us down again. Hearing the yells of one black man to another in conversation “can a ***** get…” (insert a stereotypical ending here) No a ***** can’t get nothin’. That is what has been repeatedly told to the race as a whole. Burned into our minds like the branding of a cow. Each time the “N” word is uttered out of another’s mouth its like a gravitational pull that scientist have yet to discover. More powerful than any black hole. Like ***** in a barrel. We strive to keep the others at our level. Ask Fredrick Douglas, it’s his expertise… As he was one of the original ****** Breakers; we have multiplied the frequency and have unknowingly become professionals at something we never strived to be. The “N” word flows out of our mouths and through the air like the historical dance it took to get us here. The dance we have long forgotten but our bodies seem to react the same way whenever an Anglo-Saxon uses our coveted word. Like it wasn’t the word they yelled as they made permanent welts on our backs that would last generations Like it wasn’t what they yelled at us to strip away every individualistic quality They referred to us as if we were herds Like it wasn’t their term to begin with. We should let them have it. We are like the modern generations of our ancestral princes and princesses of Africa. As powerful as they once were, we have mastered fields that others wish they had a chance to accomplish in. We were built to overcome any obstacle.Other than the obstacle of getting out of our own way. It is no longer like the underground railroad. There are no hounds chasing us through the waters. ****** should no longer be the tether that holds us down We have the ability to soar like a majestic bird that shall always remain unnamed. As ****** we are nothing. As African American’s we are an impenetrable strength.
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34
What gives this is something I just can't take finally looked in the mirror and recognized  I'm apart of the most hated race/ black lives matter when a white cop shoots a black man in face/ It never matters when we do it to each other it's rather ok/ I'm just saying what I see you can say what you say/ we can agree to disagree the decree we still slaves/ to a system we victims to the transatlantic trade/ To a degree no one to blame now, we're  blocking our own way/ opportunity knocks but we stuck in that ol maze/ it's not like back in the day yet still in the same phase/ I tried not to write this it's been lingering for days/ why'd  Harriet walk so far how come Fredrick said hey!/ that's not how it should be/ we know Martin had dreamed/ Malcolm by any means/ 400 years you see/  they just wanted to be free/ What they fought for at that time is promptly  upon us/ I oppose riots protest and violence to fight back seek knowledge/ Relay that to the kids so they can understand the science/ as to acclimate any climate/ alliance to survive this/ Visually loud a silence/ we hate each other we are the misguided/
0
Jul 20, 2016
Jul 20, 2016 at 10:39 PM UTC
The most hated race
Women who think like men Men who act like children Children who act like they're forty and think they're adults I opened the box to find a crudely written IOU on the back of an expired Domino's coupon We tried to assimilate the whole thing My co-worker made a long distance phone call It was to the peanut gallery They told her she should have put another quarter in the parking meter so she could have avoided the fine "Fredrick Brown" Said my boss That was the name he gave us when he made the reservation Sounded like pseudonym the chiseler made up on the spot But all he ate was side dishes And a bag of corn nuts he brought in Now the investigation was in full swing The cops came Asking questions A description A name And what he ordered "Burnt french fries, uncooked calamari, re fried beans, a salad with only brown lettuce, a can of cranberry sauce, a porterhouse steak medium rare with mushrooms and onions and a hot fudge sundae without any ice cream" The officers perused the table and found that sundae and the steak were untouched And the can of cranberry sauce was only half eaten Days later a man was found screaming in the industrial park Yelling obscenities and wearing a bald cap While trying to listen to scratched skipping Cd's on his Walkman that had no batteries It goes without saying the man was deranged It was the very same man I waited on in the restaurant Police only released one statement on the matter They said when asked why he was in there in the first place He told them he was looking for work to pay a bill the he owed to a local restaurant who had top notch service His real name was Ercy ****** That name is now branded into my memory
0
Jun 26, 2014
Jun 26, 2014 at 8:10 PM UTC
Fredrick Brown
Women who think like men Men who act like children Children who act like they're forty and think they're adults I opened the box to find a crudely written IOU on the back of an expired Domino's coupon We tried to assimilate the whole thing My co-worker made a long distance phone call It was to the peanut gallery They told her she should have put another quarter in the parking meter so she could have avoided the fine "Fredrick Brown" Said my boss That was the name he gave us when he made the reservation Sounded like pseudonym the chiseler made up on the spot But all he ate was side dishes And a bag of corn nuts he brought in Now the investigation was in full swing The cops came Asking questions A description A name And what he ordered "Burnt french fries, uncooked calamari, re fried beans, a salad with only brown lettuce, a can of cranberry sauce, a porterhouse steak medium rare with mushrooms and onions and a hot fudge sundae without any ice cream" The officers perused the table and found that sundae and the steak were untouched And the can of cranberry sauce was only half eaten Days later a man was found screaming in the industrial park Yelling obscenities and wearing a bald cap While trying to listen to scratched skipping Cd's on his Walkman that had no batteries It goes without saying the man was deranged It was the very same man I waited on in the restaurant Police only released one statement on the matter They said when asked why he was in there in the first place He told them he was looking for work to pay a bill the he owed to a local restaurant who had top notch service His real name was Ercy ****** That name is now branded into my memory
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Three. One that warned me, One that didn't, And one that sat, plotting near my heart. For which it earned it's title; "Voldemort" From the girls Who sat, An hour after I did on that wrinkled leather corner of the couch, With tissues, chocolate and their arms Ready to launch around my tear soaked bandage, And thought of names Closer to pets than unwanted clumps of cells was the second; "Fluffy". On the 16th and the 5th, I think of and thank Sophie, who ran cold water over my veins backstage When I couldn't stand the heat any longer Because my own chemicals wanted to give up. Rachel, who glanced over at me in English, When I looked hopeless And hugged me, without a word of explaination. And the first, "Fredrick", who gave me this mark I wear, Uncaring of it's appearance because it warned us And prevented the formation of more scars. And how when I say I love them I mean it. Three. One that made me laugh, One that bravely smiled, One that got sick And made the other two cry.
0
Jul 4, 2011
Jul 4, 2011 at 5:54 PM UTC
Three.
I love you because your my brother Even if its not obvious to others Because we look different I brag about you at school And complain (But that's because your weird ;) I show I love you every day And that's why i say yes when you ask me To vehemently threaten the monsters in your closet And lock said closet afterwards And why After I'm done I mention everything in the room That you can use to bludgeon them with Because you might actually have to use the Mater Piggy Bank To knock out a robber When your in college And why after that I tell you that all stuffed animals are Super Friends And that's why parents get them for their kids And yes, Monkey Friend and Friend-Friend Are the best in the monster busting biz' Along with Sabrina the Teddy Bear Who I haven't washed in so long Daddy says she looks like a truck ran her over I love you Joe-Joe Buddy Bug Monkey Joey Joseph Fredrick Kolb And I always will Because I'm your Big Sister And that's my job To love you You eleven year old 'Griever' (TROLL) And keep you safe And hopefully not crying Because the next bully at school Who makes you cry Is going to die a painful death So help me god Because there is nothing worse Than a crying little brother
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Jun 6, 2014
Jun 6, 2014 at 10:16 PM UTC
Joe
✿⊰✲⊱✿ Though we could not see the emblem, we know who eachof the colours belong to Sue's Kingdom of Ruikruya releases lilac paper lanterns, Edmund's Chairis forest-green, Sarita's Khaikar orange lanterns, Omni's Khaniel silver, Deb's Daegeral magenta, Devon's Monait blue-violets, ✿⊰✲⊱✿ Kim's Geniael cream, Emeka's Ghalali white, Robin's Naeneiana periwinkle, Fugue's Thavia blacks, Fawn's Yuamor red-violets, Yacov's Igrador olive-green, Dawn's Khesian dandelion-orange, Joseph's Eaqellurene bronze, Jugnu's Enuryn jade-green, ✿⊰✲⊱✿ Fredrick's Emirinait mauve, Yidna's Puhan indigo, Rob's Balan sea-green, Cne's Phelyra turquoise, John's Khesian melon-red, Xaela's Lonusea peach, Aslam's Ikaesa deep plum, Ayumi's Wadia tan-gold, Brandon's Huarean ocher, Sheila's Naizzuzia cornflower-blue, Kikodinho's Izugalla in taupe, Stars' Yurithireatha green-yellow, Jobira's Zavalon in orange-red and lastly, my Aurelinaea deep blue ,
0
Aug 28, 2018
Aug 28, 2018 at 6:39 PM UTC
❀❁ тнє gαlα X (IV of VI) ❁❀
Rift rafters fall for the love of their sinister lives that continue long after the setting sun, Breathers lay out their arms welcoming peace with a deadly knife, Sought after visions lie but for a just cause, Simple villains turn tides when truth proved to be theirs to gloat, Lips of curves softly calling for the ears of new found kings, Lofting lost but on the path that was sought when no path was given, Crain the neck to see what is alreadyinfront of you, Suggested laughs at the subtle sight that was born from the head of a baby, A free fairing fan fiction frantically falling for free franks from Fredrick's farm facility featured February Fifth, A test to the cure that causes our noses to run amuck, Fidget in our seats when words of conversation repeated for few sentences know their bounds, A long lost rambling mind, tastes silver in the blood of night
0
Jan 22, 2015
Jan 22, 2015 at 4:23 AM UTC
P0e9
My music i s me, I am my music, It reflects the kind of person I am in music and in song, I love The Carpenters, as well as Franz Liszt, I love Gordon Lightfoot as well as Fredrick Chopin, I love to sing and I love to dance, It tells you who I really am. My music is me, I am my music, It reflects the kind of person I am music and song, It will tell you if I am depressed, If I am in love, It will tell you if I am lonely, or If I am moody, I am my music and my music is me and tells you all about me
0
Oct 15, 2011
Oct 15, 2011 at 8:10 PM UTC
My Music Is Me
*oh **** i know, it happened in your bedroom... and thak **** it didn't happen anywhere apart from that! except in advert, and at a Trump rally.* i can't be really Polish, and i certainly can't be English, so what's left? partly Scottish? åka ɲørdé - aaka(h) niu-rd(eh) - to go forth, with Shelley, and seek my goat-herder there among the icecaps in frozen Victorian land, among grey and among Orca slaughter - to feast, while those who seek more than grape seek dactyl - under the palm - may in eternity our paths never cross as they did by mortality and the shaken hands... ever, never! like a nursery rhyme, should Fredrick fall asleep during a lightning / thunder-storm and be branded a thief to your own supposed Eden prophecy and account balance unshaken - while the Pharaoh the first-born drowns with Herod plagiarising the fabled lure of David's lyre and sang psalms; keep away from here, unless in your heaven the Dachau of lost unheard un-worded breaths; take your god no further than Byzantium or Venice will attack.
0
Jun 23, 2016
Jun 23, 2016 at 9:55 PM UTC
åka ɲørdé
This is a story of man who defied all odds, and his name was Henry Fredrick. Henry rides the train every morning on his daily commute to the city, which is where he works. He is a repairman for Azrael Medical Center, a local hospital. Henry is a single man who lives alone and does not like to keep company very often. As said before, he takes the train from his residence located in the outskirts of the town. He seldom makes friends, but the friends he does have keep in good rapport with him. T’was the first week of April in the year 1987, that he departed like any other day when suddenly the train derailed. He was tossed about from roof to floor, and this vicious cycle continued until he was left lying on top of someone else’s luggage. Henry laid there for quite some time fearing no one would know where to look, and he began to think what he could have done better in his life. The only thought he had was of his death. Trying to rid himself of this misery he began to ask why he did not simply buy a car and take that to work instead of the train. The train was so close and inviting to Henry because he could spend time alone to think before having to deal with the occupational world. A few hours were spent and he finally attempted to move his carcass so that he could perhaps be found. He struggled to crawl up to the door, the only escape route. That’s when the feeling hit him, like someone was watching him or planning his demise. Henry frantically looked around but saw no one. He began to yell for help when someone or something showed up. The two of their eyes met and instantaneously the two of them became preoccupied with the other. As Henry began to widen his gaze from those engulfing red eyes, he notices that indeed that thing that was watching him was a dog. The dog grabbed onto Henry’s shirt puling him from the wreckage. The dog seemed to have supernatural strength and Henry felt as if he was floating on air being carried on the shoulders of some strange beast, but was most likely due to the fact that he lost basically all of his blood. The dog dragged Henry’s broken body to the street, and that is where Henry blacked out.
0
Aug 7, 2013
Aug 7, 2013 at 12:12 PM UTC
Death Is Closer Than You Think: Part 1
This is a story of man who defied all odds, and his name was Henry Fredrick. Henry rides the train every morning on his daily commute to the city, which is where he works. He is a repairman for Azrael Medical Center, a local hospital. Henry is a single man who lives alone and does not like to keep company very often. As said before, he takes the train from his residence located in the outskirts of the town. He seldom makes friends, but the friends he does have keep in good rapport with him. T’was the first week of April in the year 1987, that he departed like any other day when suddenly the train derailed. He was tossed about from roof to floor, and this vicious cycle continued until he was left lying on top of someone else’s luggage. Henry laid there for quite some time fearing no one would know where to look, and he began to think what he could have done better in his life. The only thought he had was of his death. Trying to rid himself of this misery he began to ask why he did not simply buy a car and take that to work instead of the train. The train was so close and inviting to Henry because he could spend time alone to think before having to deal with the occupational world. A few hours were spent and he finally attempted to move his carcass so that he could perhaps be found. He struggled to crawl up to the door, the only escape route. That’s when the feeling hit him, like someone was watching him or planning his demise. Henry frantically looked around but saw no one. He began to yell for help when someone or something showed up. The two of their eyes met and instantaneously the two of them became preoccupied with the other. As Henry began to widen his gaze from those engulfing red eyes, he notices that indeed that thing that was watching him was a dog. The dog grabbed onto Henry’s shirt puling him from the wreckage. The dog seemed to have supernatural strength and Henry felt as if he was floating on air being carried on the shoulders of some strange beast, but was most likely due to the fact that he lost basically all of his blood. The dog dragged Henry’s broken body to the street, and that is where Henry blacked out.
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1
It's been a long road without two of the most important males out of my life. Timothy: The precious baby taken too soon. I imagine you learning to walk in heaven, growing in a way I will never see. My god my heart hurts thinking about your sugar plum face smiling up at me. I want to watch you grow and flurish my angel boy, my little homie as well. Fredrick: Grandpa , Sarcastic little **** , and one of the best people i've ever known. I cry thinking about all you will miss of your families future. We all know family was on of your most prized possesions. God i wish you could have been there to aprove of my first boyfriend or to see me graduate. I miss you so ******* much it's tearing me apart.
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Oct 16, 2014
Oct 16, 2014 at 12:04 AM UTC
Journey
what was at stake there with Homeric and that equality must examine rush with Fredrick now POTUS as outcome with that matter so embrown Grecian with extemporaneous wile in this mound of their debate
0
Feb 17, 2019
Feb 17, 2019 at 9:08 AM UTC
embrown
(Geraldine was walking on the deck while waiting nervously for Fredrick. Frederick appeared suddenly while speaking quickly and gesturing.) ''I've waited for you all day long to come up with fuel.'' ''I went to buy charcoal, water and outdoor lamp oil. At a crossroad, I saw a stage driver being so cruel To whip his horses to run faster; the oil spilled on the soil. He drove a stagecoach; my horse was frightened by the sound And my trolley overturned. I had to come back to buy Again three barrels of oil.'' ''That oil spilled on the ground, '' Said Geraldine, ''the money has gone, and this is not a lie! '' I don't ask you to tell me where you really spent the money It makes no sense to ask you for the truth. Is she beautiful? Did you have a good time? To wash laundry in public, honey, You may bring her here. This way, you can be dutiful.'' ''I love you, '' screamed Frederick, '' so, you think you're funny.'' ''Well, I may be funny although I'm never stupid.'' He held her, ''I sold some jewels. Take the money. I could lie to you, but you're the one. I'm down with Cupid.'' ''Do you remember that man having a ring with a skull? '' ''You've met him in Constantinople, '' ''I've met him here, too. He was in that stagecoach liking this way his horses to cull.'' He laughed saying, ''I'm a captain in search for my crew.'' ''Frederick, I want to return home at Khadjibey. Do you remember when we've met in the port and you Gave me an emerald cut gold ring shining at the ray? '' ''I've asked you to marry me, '' ''I love you; you know it's true.'' ''Then why do you want to turn back home? '' ''You know I'm scared.'' '' This is our chance. If we turn back in that unknown trading port For slave markets, I will not survive; I'm not prepared To ask the sanjak bey some protection and support. I am Italian and I saw so many things. I saw the terrible fate of those becoming galley-slaves, Women enslaved being sexually abused, in sufferings, But someone living in Khadjibey is a 'plough and a scythe.' '' '' Is this artwork painted by Paolo de Matteis or not? '' Asked Francesca coming to them. ''What are you doing here? '' ''We really like to admire that splendid island a lot.'' ''Shall we offer them a string instruments' concert, Chiara dear? '' (To be continued…) Poem by Marieta Maglas
0
Jun 26, 2015
Jun 26, 2015 at 11:15 PM UTC
Frederick and Geraldine (Part 10)
(Geraldine was walking on the deck while waiting nervously for Fredrick. Frederick appeared suddenly while speaking quickly and gesturing.) ''I've waited for you all day long to come up with fuel.'' ''I went to buy charcoal, water and outdoor lamp oil. At a crossroad, I saw a stage driver being so cruel To whip his horses to run faster; the oil spilled on the soil. He drove a stagecoach; my horse was frightened by the sound And my trolley overturned. I had to come back to buy Again three barrels of oil.'' ''That oil spilled on the ground, '' Said Geraldine, ''the money has gone, and this is not a lie! '' I don't ask you to tell me where you really spent the money It makes no sense to ask you for the truth. Is she beautiful? Did you have a good time? To wash laundry in public, honey, You may bring her here. This way, you can be dutiful.'' ''I love you, '' screamed Frederick, '' so, you think you're funny.'' ''Well, I may be funny although I'm never stupid.'' He held her, ''I sold some jewels. Take the money. I could lie to you, but you're the one. I'm down with Cupid.'' ''Do you remember that man having a ring with a skull? '' ''You've met him in Constantinople, '' ''I've met him here, too. He was in that stagecoach liking this way his horses to cull.'' He laughed saying, ''I'm a captain in search for my crew.'' ''Frederick, I want to return home at Khadjibey. Do you remember when we've met in the port and you Gave me an emerald cut gold ring shining at the ray? '' ''I've asked you to marry me, '' ''I love you; you know it's true.'' ''Then why do you want to turn back home? '' ''You know I'm scared.'' '' This is our chance. If we turn back in that unknown trading port For slave markets, I will not survive; I'm not prepared To ask the sanjak bey some protection and support. I am Italian and I saw so many things. I saw the terrible fate of those becoming galley-slaves, Women enslaved being sexually abused, in sufferings, But someone living in Khadjibey is a 'plough and a scythe.' '' '' Is this artwork painted by Paolo de Matteis or not? '' Asked Francesca coming to them. ''What are you doing here? '' ''We really like to admire that splendid island a lot.'' ''Shall we offer them a string instruments' concert, Chiara dear? '' (To be continued…) Poem by Marieta Maglas
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I like to read and write and contemplate drinking an extra glass of water since I get so thirsty on liquid restriction Sometimes I do drink one but just one cup I also like to daydream about smoking again- I thought it was so much fun. If I'm going off grounds with one of my caregivers I like to buy a juicy CD or two, pick up a Hip Hop Weekly, and go to a really action movie like Vin Diesel or Liam Neeson stuff or else go to a nice restaurant in my opinion and have a nice full meal for me. In spite of being a bit portly I'm only a nibbler. If it's Saturday I like to get back on the ward to watch Fredrick Whitfield on CNN and an Illinois basketball or football game or a Yankee game If it's a weekday and since I don't particularly like weekday daytime TV except for the Harry Connick Jr show a little and the musical segment on Ellen DeGeneres I'll listen to the "fresh" CD or CDs, Change into more comfortable clothes (I do this usually after I go out) and relax for snack time I like to do things on a lazy day just for what I find as a peaceful contrast otherwise it's napping, listening to CDs and watching CNN with sound off as I can hear CDs and watch pro football if it's a fall Sunday Charles Sturies
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Mar 20, 2017
Mar 20, 2017 at 2:26 PM UTC
My Favorite Way to Spend a Lazy Day
Hello Poetry is built like a social media site but those of us that make the front page have like 10 followers. Personally, I have 2 (shout out to Perry and Fredrick Njroge) but it's not a big deal. Because that's not what I'm here for. "We write to be seen, But we slam to be heard."
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Apr 22, 2019
Apr 22, 2019 at 7:51 PM UTC
1 Thing I
And then, Whites were gone Not even then when No Niña Pinta or Santa María No TB for NA No Auto-de-fés No pogroms Nor hollow cost All brown around town North South and Central Native America Look: on the $20 bill– Alexander Hamilton There: a Fredrick Douglas fifty Jesús? Brown. Buddha? Yellow. Tecumseh? Red. George Washington Carver? Black. No white slight, that We can build walls Separate families Deny others entry Or reclaim beige and Not run the race And finally, just behave
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Dec 28, 2018
Dec 28, 2018 at 9:41 PM UTC
NOT NATIVIST
Hellopoetry has the greatest poets of this time. I am so bless to know them and to share too. On the site that has the very best of them all. There are so many to name on here  right now. Brandon Nagely, TheRaven,CJLove,White Wolf. Vicki,Bijan Rabiee, Darrell Landstrom, Patty m. Openworldview,forgotten, samanthax,Arianna, Fawn. Dennis Willis,Evangeline Ruth Hope,Muzaffer. Naceur Ben Mesbah, Faizel Farzee, Dan Hess. Crazy Diamond Kristy, Katja Pullinen, Deb Jones. M-E, Long Rager,Amulya,Pradip Chattopadhyay. Madison,Joanna,Sally Bayan, Wendy ,Izzn,Fredrick N. There are many more praying Blessings upon your works.
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Sep 11, 2019
Sep 11, 2019 at 8:55 AM UTC
Hellopoetry
Teach the rich the truth Tell the broke the lies That's why private schools no Christopher Columbus took millions of lives but the publics schools think he was the best thing to ever Arrive you see how this system from a young age manipulates our lives The people pulling the strings are smart It's no coincidence series of Unfortunate events that made this The schools that need the most always lack I know I wrote a poem about having kids But I don't want none Seeing from my parents how much you Will love them And you don't want anyone to take something They need from them I was always told subconsciously I couldn't have none The church told be happy with crumb My father told me I couldn't go to the school that I wanted Unless the football field got me there It wasn't his fault He just was always taught That a black man cant excel in this life With out a sport games My people got back pains From invisible chains That were replaced but never erased Just put in plane sight to Make everyone think things are Alright we just want equality The people pulling the strings are smart Why you think unity is so hard History taught Harriet Tubman was a fugitive Fredrick Douglas a criminal MLK and Malcolm X were Disobedient Subconsciously telling us That even the great leaders Who stood up for what's right were Wrong I'm tired of singing this song Equality Don't tell me laziness Created my poverty Cause granny been working Shoulda retired years ago I think it's probably Cause the system was created Before any minority could debate it Now we working to play catch up As they leave us red as Heinz ketchup Leave our cries unseen Equality You don't need a PH.D. To define this Equality it shouldn't be this hard u see we want equality.
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Oct 2, 2016
Oct 2, 2016 at 2:59 PM UTC
Equal
Teach the rich the truth Tell the broke the lies That's why private schools no Christopher Columbus took millions of lives but the publics schools think he was the best thing to ever Arrive you see how this system from a young age manipulates our lives The people pulling the strings are smart It's no coincidence series of Unfortunate events that made this The schools that need the most always lack I know I wrote a poem about having kids But I don't want none Seeing from my parents how much you Will love them And you don't want anyone to take something They need from them I was always told subconsciously I couldn't have none The church told be happy with crumb My father told me I couldn't go to the school that I wanted Unless the football field got me there It wasn't his fault He just was always taught That a black man cant excel in this life With out a sport games My people got back pains From invisible chains That were replaced but never erased Just put in plane sight to Make everyone think things are Alright we just want equality The people pulling the strings are smart Why you think unity is so hard History taught Harriet Tubman was a fugitive Fredrick Douglas a criminal MLK and Malcolm X were Disobedient Subconsciously telling us That even the great leaders Who stood up for what's right were Wrong I'm tired of singing this song Equality Don't tell me laziness Created my poverty Cause granny been working Shoulda retired years ago I think it's probably Cause the system was created Before any minority could debate it Now we working to play catch up As they leave us red as Heinz ketchup Leave our cries unseen Equality You don't need a PH.D. To define this Equality it shouldn't be this hard u see we want equality.
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59
Let us remember Aristillus & Timocharis, Like Halley & Galileo. Of Zhang Heng & Dao Lee, Like Newton & Max Born. Of Werner & Yermolyeva, Like Curie & Oppenheimer. Of Paracelus & Fredrick Banting, Like Tesla & Pythagoras. Of Richard Feynman & André Ampère, Like Michael Faraday & Benjamin Franklin. Of Payne-Gaposchkin & Joseph Swan, Like Ignacy Łukasiewicz & Kikunae Ikeda. Of Takamine Jōkichi & Berners-Lee, Like Robert Hooke & Gutenberg. Of Talos Attalus & Perrilus, Like William Bullock & Franz Reichelt. Of Abū Bakr al-Rāzī & Ibn al-Haytham, Like Archimedes & Johannes Kepler. Of Aldini & Henry Russell, Like Edison & Graham Bell. Of Carl Bosch & Richard Fiedler, Like Mr. Hyde & Dr. Jekyll. Of Brokkr & Sindri, Like Gullinbursti & Hephaestus.
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Feb 9, 2025
Feb 9, 2025 at 11:00 AM UTC
Too Many Deserving Listing
haven't wrote a poem in a while. it's because a few night ago... I cried so hard my throat sung those old slave songs cause lately I guess i've been a slave to perfection, a slave to the image, unable to smile if not requested, unable to escape. tried to listen to those revolutionaries on twitter like fredrick douglas and such. only made me fear the freedom that might not ever be.
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Dec 19, 2018
Dec 19, 2018 at 10:48 PM UTC
slave to