"gatekeepers" poems
The nineties sold us unity:
bright sitcoms,
Benetton colors,
commercials where everyone smiled
as though inequity had been resolved.
But the decade bled on screen—
a Black man beaten on asphalt,
a truck driver dragged from his cab,
bomb dust in Oklahoma,
children hunted in a school corridor.
Unity was the costume;
violence was the stage.
Then came a Black president.
For a moment,
the story looked complete.
"Post-racial," they said,
as though history had closed.
But the mask split.
Social media tore out the gatekeepers.
The hate that had been muted
found its tongue,
found its profit,
and screamed into the feed.
Division pays.
Unity does not.
Violence is systemic,
holistic,
from home to street to state.
Silence makes it whole.
The ethic remains:
If it is wrong, you stop it.
Otherwise the cycle turns,
profitable, endless,
calling itself America.
Aug 19, 2025
Aug 19, 2025 at 5:45 AM UTC
For them who dwell in mindful wanderlust,
their love, the road; their home, the road,
To grapple their love, their home,
We dont give them their birth right,
cos we, the orderly chaotic,
they, allow me to rephrase,
say, keep order!!
To hell with the gatekeepers,
Let's hop borders shall we?
before all that's left to hop,
are landless latitudes!!
Dec 24, 2012
Dec 24, 2012 at 10:35 AM UTC
Dear Mr. Wizard of forevermore,
Remember the cold, cold winter not so long ago,
when I traveled on a great journey all alone?
An unfortunate and unforgettable journey it was,
A journey into the deep unknown
A journey finding me traveling, traveling so far,
To speak with those gatekeepers of the dark star
My words! My words! Oh my words, Wizard!!!
My words wouldn't come!!!
Alas, my words locked themselves away
Somewhere in the castles hightower
So the castle guards say
So I journeyed on for miles and miles,
traveling alone, and to this day
I wish I'd never gone!
Jul 27, 2018
Jul 27, 2018 at 4:26 PM UTC
Follow the beat through.
When i learnt tennis , my point to work on was follow through ,
now
i see ..... played out in my life.
The wonderment of a follow through.
Oh what pleasure , to meet the kindred gatekeepers, with raspberry chocolate on a dream beach , with mirage water..... way out , shifting lake light blue to deep oceanic aqua.
Sand made out crystal , old glaciers roamed here , leaving in their wake ice pathway earth carvings that are now lakes.
The shield is up north , pure crystal. Unlike Bali beaches , with miniature coral atoms in the sand mix.
We sit and laugh , a hollyhawk , Rainbow deer , Earth tree mountain lion and I a Sky Albatross , humming the sound of ancient code into Dr Who time dreams.
Where we flow and merger - align each other - heal , give , beckon to ourselves to come forth , higher self crystalize!!
We all touch differently,
arriving at situations step ,
dance -reaction to the current atmosphere, we've all jumped. We've all landed. We've all felt
the other side of being human.
Careful not to time travel too much , then we get stuck in the loop of always moving to nowhere.... Land AHOY!
We , i can feel , are all in the throws of a well navigated land - the Hawk's message from 2 and a half weeks ago -
Received.
The corners are no longer so sharp , the waves no longer as fearful , we fellow beings stand at the entrances end showing the way through to eternity.
Transitions still in progress, nearing completion. 22nd of April - a date to watch. 1 year traveling. Time to reap those seeds!
Yippiee!
Apr 11, 2014
Apr 11, 2014 at 11:15 PM UTC
Pick up the fragments that belong
in the basket of the self
even while the world suggests
what’s retrieved should be shamed
an assault where none is meant
pharisees err in response
when curative is the intent
for the traveler off the path
beware gatekeepers of all stripes
the outsider or close ally
denying unity sought within
as the holy guards the breach
the victim cast as miscreant
targeted to save the group
on the altar of the right
still the splinters must be amassed
the shards echo rainbow hues
scattered on the floor of life
spectrums hidden are reclaimed
the stacked result fills the sky
stars embodied in the depths
collected with a net of tears
zodiacs reflect the self
shining brighter than distress.
© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180913.
Sep 13, 2018
Sep 13, 2018 at 9:34 PM UTC
Why even still call them people
aren't they more like things
and even then what sort would they be
even trash we don't throw out onto the streets
but maybe they stand
as gatekeepers
to our humanity
allowing men to choose who they are
by how they see the homeless people
kinyopoetry.com
Jun 27, 2013
Jun 27, 2013 at 11:52 AM UTC
Mountains perked out from the Earth as if Atlas himself was attempting to break free from his subterranean cage. These gargantuan, green, organic monoliths stood as gatekeepers of Lone-lands, and watched as low-hovering clouds swirled and swayed around them. Not fluffy white clouds, but deep gray, angry clouds, clouds that move freely with the orchestra of the land. Like a heartbeat, the mountains pulsed and made the horizon jagged and alive. I studied these clouds and hills until sleep bested me. My eyelids shut, and when I opened them again, the gatekeepers were no more. The horizon's heartbeat had flat-lined, and all I could see was an empty blue sky meeting the Mojave shrubbery and sand.
Apr 10, 2011
Apr 10, 2011 at 11:06 PM UTC
This time, when I say it,
I want you to know it will not just be for attention.
The world has finally shut its doors,
And I stand outside, alone in the darkness, yearning for affection.
The gatekeepers snarl and snigger each time I get close,
And my mind races, it's roaring above my heart.
Instead of attempting to regain entry, it spits out hatred,
And pulls itself apart..
"I can do this on my own", it speaks out,
"Who needs love, care.... hope?"
"I don't need your pity, your crummy hands to hold me.
I can do this, I don't need anyone .. I can cope!"
And when my minds' voice bounces into the airy silence,
My heart grabs an opportunity to say:
"Hear me instead of these lies that my mind's feeding!
I've never truly wanted to be out here all alone.. I want to go home where loving arms take the darkness away.."
Mar 23, 2017
Mar 23, 2017 at 8:04 AM UTC
He has a bench in Central Park,
a step on Seventh Avenue,
a corner on Broadway.
But home is a feeling rather than a location,
something those who have a lock and key and
a mortgage fee will never understand.
The gatekeepers tell him
‘That bench is for people to sit on’,
so he grabs his sleeping bag with beat up weathered hands,
and leaves the park,
realising ‘people’ is another category in which he does not belong.
Autumn is here
so winter is near.
A chance to rush to snowy mountains with Chanel scarves
to escape ‘dreary’ lives.
He takes his vacation
from park to doorway,
views aren’t as nice but it dulls the bite.
As night drapes over Manhattan, he zig zags between expressionless crowds,
invisible
like an unread word.
He seeks a corner just off Broadway (the bright lights numb his loneliness).
In soiled clothes and old scuffed shoes,
he sits on newspaper wrinkled by other hands
and watches passers-by with bloodshot eyes,
bills burning in their pockets.
A man with shoes shinier than dreams
soils his corner with a *** of spit.
He wonders,
do I belong everywhere, or nowhere at all?
And he pulls out his guitar and begins to sing,
October cough thick with illness,
‘They say
the neon lights are always bright
on Broadway’.
Jul 28, 2018
Jul 28, 2018 at 1:25 PM UTC
As the cries of the captives
are left unanswered
So will the prayers
of the pious
be forever met
with silence
As the pleadings
of the warrior
abandoned forlorn
are met with indifference
So will the oblations
of pretensions
be met only with scorn
As the words of the prophet
that the famine soon
would be lifted
were met with
callous unbelief
So will those gatekeepers
be trampled
in the stampede
of the multitudes
who seek God's relief
For those who have ears
So let them care
For those who have none
Let their eyes in death
coldly and everlasting stare
For the words
of God's wisdom
are life to the dieing
They are surely for
the self-righteous
precious pearls
before swine
-R.
(06)
-TX
Sep 10, 2017
Sep 10, 2017 at 2:38 PM UTC
We all have secrets,
building walls that close us in.
We allow fear and pain
to stand as sentinels;
and like prisoners with
Stockholm Syndrome
we believe they protect.
When in fact~
they are gatekeepers,
wardens-
keeping us locked in our
secret closets.
Leaving our closet
is one of life's hardest challenges.
From telling the one you love -
you cheated
to openly admitting sexuality.
The secret closets
bind,
choke,
enslave
until we face the fear,
and deal with the pain....for
A closet is no place for a person
Jun 7, 2015
Jun 7, 2015 at 12:17 PM UTC
The always-patient man had no longer a capacity to accept, his fists thwacking the gates of hell. He needed in. The icy hinged barrier crushed his knuckles, and the splintering molecules of frozen corpses, which hedged this entrance, fell in fine dust. Their eyes, the only warm flesh within the dead gatekeepers, begged him to back away. It only let him know, he, this man that was once so ever patient, belonged inside. Not wishing to give up, he struck, and struck the cryptic divide screaming, “Devils take me!” You see, at the moment of his death, the gates of heaven opened up to him, and he being the ever most patient man, his soul rushed into the great light of empyrean. Yet when there, he could not see what he had expected, there was no wondrous feeling of euphoria. Nothing was there to give him that high, he had ignored himself so long, upon that dreaded earth, before his sobriety and solvency to God. That always-patient man had expectations of those feelings, which he felt criminal, and denied himself so long. Yet they were not there, in this heaven he imagined. This soul, that for so long had been a patient man, who had so piously paid his debts, had an epiphany. He was feeling gypped. So his soul swooped to hell. Not looking back he heard the gates of heaven slam. After this the man, patient no more begged Beelzebub, from chained and locked realm, “Satan, give me what I deserve! Stick your stake in me. Give me your pleasured poison!” Then God and Lucifer appeared to him and morphed into one being. The whirlwind of good and evil they became said, “Life is strife or happiness, you choose. There is nothing here for you.” Suddenly incarnated again, into newborn gasping first breath, his mind went blank, but with an evolved spirit inhaled.
© PJ Poesy
01.09.2014
Jan 9, 2017
Jan 9, 2017 at 11:01 AM UTC
No matter how much strength of yours is kept
It always comes back down to whom you know
For every time you think you are adept
The caws of meritocracy doth crow
Americans have dreamt in dreams of gold
High hopes upheld with promises of clout
By working hard there’s fortune to behold
Lest lack of means cause gatekeepers to doubt
Yes, push that rubble up the sacred hill
To watch it fall and tumble to the depths
For all eternity it is your will
To pay with sweat and blood for all your debts
Perhaps if only there were something more
To lifting destitution from the floor
Nov 29, 2019
Nov 29, 2019 at 10:52 PM UTC
my lover asked a favor
I refused, his agony I savor
mouth drenched in gold
breathe ice cold
lips as gatekeepers
passion they hold
the power of a kiss
is a secret untold
never ask for what you want
Take it. Be bold!
Jun 12, 2014
Jun 12, 2014 at 11:30 AM UTC
You doting companions,
masters of mercy,
full of faults
and ever-forgiving,
delighters of spoils,
caveats of violence,
greeters of God,
givers of light,
gatekeepers of disaster,
lost in the balance
of chaos and necessity
and are most deserving
of love.
Jun 13, 2015
Jun 13, 2015 at 5:37 PM UTC
they want to take my toys away
'cos I won't play the game their way
but they don't understand my vision
see through my eyes of contradiction
the gatekeepers have closed their realm
standing strong for what they believe in
I know they'll never let me pass
they have a hatred that's deep entrenched
I'll carry on regardless though
in my one man delusional show
Jan 1, 2024
Jan 1, 2024 at 10:17 AM UTC
The White House
Washington
February 26, 2015
Today's FCC decision will protect innovation and create a level playing field for the next generation of entrepreneurs–and it wouldn't have happened without Americans like you.
More than 4 million people wrote in to the FCC, overwhelmingly in support of a free and fair internet. Countless others spoke out on social media, petitioned their government, and stood up for what they believe.
I ran for office because I believed that nothing can stand in the way of millions of voices calling for change. That's the backbone of our democracy–and you've proven that this timeless principle is alive and well in our digital age.
So to all the people who participated in this conversation, I have a simple message:
I am a strong supporter of net neutrality … What you’ve been seeing is some lobbying that says that the servers and the various portals through which you’re getting information over the Internet should be able to be gatekeepers and to charge different rates to different Web sites … And that I think destroys one of the best things about the Internet—which is that there is this incredible equality there.
Thank you,
Barack Obama
Dec 31, 2017
Dec 31, 2017 at 6:35 PM UTC
Hello poetry is not happy
Hello poetry is not well
Hello poetry is not healthy
Hello poetry's gone to hell
I see these thoughts and sentiments echoed
In different forms upon my wall
I feel it too as I click and stumble
As I watch and wait for the wheel crawl
I've only been here a little while
I like the format, I like the style
The thoughts, the words,
The shares, the smiles
But why is loading
Such an arduous trail?
Hello poetry's not so bad
I've got plenty of patience
Hello poetry doesn't make me mad
It offers me contemplation
I click, I stumble
I wait, I mumble
"502, the gatekeepers in trouble..."
May 11, 2021
May 11, 2021 at 7:58 PM UTC
Muses converse with Mystics, deciding not only art and poetry, but the value of morals and ethics. Therefore, completely dependable. The Muse lives on the other side, while Mystics as gatekeepers here on earth. If an artist cannot publish in secret-anonymous, do not value their art. There is price to pay to think for yourself. Anyone separate themselves from society and if you’re going to be an original, society will lose their value. Listen to the voices from the other side, it’s not as evil as the religious and the conspirators yell about. Those who smile most in your eyesight, generally frown the most behind your back.
https://www.amazon.com.au/Inherent-Sin-Darcy-Prince-ebook/dp/B07FR5FW42/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1532992472&sr=8-3&keywords=darcy+prince
Jul 30, 2018
Jul 30, 2018 at 7:32 PM UTC
Years as a loner
Under the big changing Sky
work and commitment
Family shared, misbelief a far cry
Yet down in his heart
A burning light
Hidden, secretly shielded
Condescending bullies outside
Illumination never extinguished
Shined at an occurence
Where clashes opened windows
Into a new bright world
He had to find a deed personal
To give it all he had
Persona physic in real time
No apprehensions met
Taking the reign of his gatekeepers' soul
Chose desires to be freed
To find freedoms mole
His mind at ease
A song danced his whistle
This lad with a brithel
(c)near_lane7
Nov 30, 2020
Nov 30, 2020 at 9:10 AM UTC
Hold on to your ideas
Hold on to your thoughts
It's not the time yet
For them to deavor or become
The gatekeepers are gone
No one left to man the doors
Hold on to your ideas
Hold on to your thoughts
It's not the time yet
For them to kneel or bestow
In the ritual lies the secret
For endearment to impel
Hold on to your ideas
Hold on to your thoughts
It's not the time yet
For them to flesh out and be burned.
May 31, 2019
May 31, 2019 at 9:44 AM UTC
Into the sky
I see you fly
I doubt my vision
But you on a mission
You have metal feathers
With a shiny armour
Very proudly you fly
With untamed drama
An air strike flight
Shooting in the skies
The day seems night
How fast the time flies
The peacekeepers
Rescuing the survivors
The hell gatekeepers
Leash with tank drivers
I am a child of today
But tomorrow I may never see
Gunning and shooting all the way
Escape seems not a key
Surrounded by forces
Am lost in the middle
Wondering the causes
Of a naked needle
Onto the helpless people
That strive to survive
Stained in blood, some now criple
Few still alive, am one of them
SHOOT US DOWN!!!
As I light this lamp
Oil drapes on my gown
Death surrounds the camp
What day is today?
What date is today?
Don't mark my death
Don't light a lamp.......
........in our memory, I pray!!
©sim
Oct 29, 2017
Oct 29, 2017 at 4:23 PM UTC
Real freedom is not won
in a ****** war.
It is fought for
in small moments.
The walls are not
iron heights
and concrete made.
They are digital displays
that parade advertisements,
enticements to subdue
the brilliance of you
to a brand name.
But a free man claims
no exterior blandishments.
His passion is a forest fire
to the average candle stick.
He doesn’t give two *****
about the shirt he is wearing
as long as it fits
and keeps him warm,
while he watches the world
play whack a mole
with the styles of the day.
The walls are not
iron heights
and concrete made.
They are built up
pay day to the next payday.
Each individual tries to
sustain the quality
they have gotten used to
while slowly improving to.
So they struggle through
the tedium of repeated motions,
dull their tempestuous emotions.
Until, it takes a drunken weekend
to find the child inside that
life has brutally beaten into submission.
But a free man
feeds off the land,
takes what he makes
with his own hands,
and the help of nature’s bounty.
He fishes. He hunts.
Despite what the government wants
he immerses himself in the splendors
Of books and bountiful nature.
The walls are not
iron heights
and concrete made.
They are written by academics
and in critic’s reviews of what
other artists should say or do,
how they must bend to
a particular style or form
to acquire the praise and applause
of the frothing swarm.
But a free man writes
what he wants,
how he wants,
and when he wants.
He does not reduce
or restrict his language.
He does not hold back
letting silence serve
the servile gatekeepers.
He is his own master,
mastering his own identity.
The walls are not
iron heights
and concrete made.
I have not escaped.
I have my foot
halfway out
those iron gates.
Perhaps, I will make it there
one of these days,
or these definitions
of being imprisoned
will be the prison
that I need to escape.
Apr 19, 2017
Apr 19, 2017 at 11:57 AM UTC
Well It’s CLEAR That... “ Gatekeepers “...
Wear Some DIFFERENT Sneakers... !!!!!!
Creepers... Whose Weakness...
Prefers To Bleed BLEAKNESS... !!!
Through Their...
So Called... TEACHERS... ?!?
And... Public Speakers.... !?!
I’m NOT ONE Who PREACHES... !!!
Because I DON’T FEATURE... !!!
The Type of Scripture...
That NEEDS TO Pull Triggers... !!!!!
Or... ACT Like Those Figures...
Now ADORED By MILLIONS... !!!
Gatekeepers NEED Keys...
To PRESERVE FALLACIES...
That What They PROVIDE...
Are... ARTISTIC Vibes...
That HELP People RISE...
From IGNORANT Crimes... ?!?
of The Minds That Now RISE...
WITHOUT ANY Dark Knights...
of... DIFFERENT TYPES... ?!?!?
Because of THE SIGHT...
of DARKNESS In Rhymes...
That... Dark Knights RECITE...
And... Choose To Now WRITE... !!!
Well HEY That’s Just FINE...
But They Might Just FIND...
That We’re Now In Times...
Where THEY Will Take FLIGHT... !!!
EVEN IF They Don’t Like...
Or Choose To ENERGISE...
...... REALITY Lines...... !!!!!!!
Through Mics Or Headlines...
That... Mediums Choose...
To USE Spirits To Move...
Through QUALITY Grooves...
That SOUL BROTHERS Use...
That They Choose To REFUSE... !!!
Until They Get SCHOOLED...
By Those Who Make... COOL...
What THEY CLAIM Is NOT Tuned.... !?!
Like CHARTERS Whose Names...
DESERVE To Be... “ SHAMED “... !!!
Like ANTHEMS Now... “ Staged “....
That... CERTAIN MAN Say....
REPRESENT Keys To CHAINS....
That Have LONG ENSLAVED Braves...
And YES... " 49ers’ "... !!!!
Kaepernick Has Faced FIRE...
For... Choosing To Sit...
When Anthems NOW Ring...
For People To Sing...
Because of THE FACT....
That They RELATE... NOT TO Him... !!!!!
But... Historical Things...
That MANY NOW Think...
Were YES... DISGUSTING... !!!!!
TOO MANY For Me...
To NOW Try To List...
In THIS Lyrical Script... !!!
So I’ll... END With THIS... !!!
Gatekeepers Are SLAVES... !!!
Who MAINTAIN KEEPING Chains...
That KEEP THIS THING Detained... !!!
The Ideal of YES... Spreading...
MUCH MORE Than Their Bedding... !!!
In Terms of The Setting...
And People They LET IN...
To Dine And Then BUY...
So That They Can SHINE... !!!!!!
In MORE THAN The Minds...
of People... INCLINED...
To Want SOMETHING MORE...
Than What THEY LOCK And Store...
Behind Gates That... Ignore...
What’s REAL And TOO RAW... !!!!!!
For Those Whose Key WEAKNESS...
Is Being One of THESE...
.... “ Gatekeepers “....
Nov 27, 2020
Nov 27, 2020 at 1:36 AM UTC
Writers…
gatekeepers to the past
—prophets of tomorrow
(The New Room: June, 2021)
Jun 19, 2021
Jun 19, 2021 at 11:00 AM UTC