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"generalisation" poems
I cannot not hear you, Your voice, and your paper bags rustling, full of gifts. For the season that’s in it. You will bring them home, wrap them. Offer them up with Love. With Love. We are all capable of Love. Even you. Despite your mouth, your words, your hate. Muslims. All of them. You say it loud enough for ‘BurkaBurka’ to hear. (Your words not mine). She who stares out the window, proud face, sweaty palms holding the bar with a white knuckle grip. It’s a hijab, by the way. Soft H. I figure to myself, if I too, were to indulge in ignorance, and if I too, were to go down the broad generalisation route; lethargic sigh I bow my head in shame and, my heart leaks inside, as I think of your ancestors. Your Caucasian, European, Christian ancestors. Your bloodline. MY Bloodline. Your line-of-blood. Our long thick crusty trail of blood. I stand between you and she. I smile but I know she cannot see. It’s us against them. Just get me off, off, off this tram. She thinks, I imagine. And my heart cries for the blood on my hands, that you reminded me of. And it cries for the backs of the world’s indigenous peoples and slaves that my ancestors paved a New World over. And their children’s children’s children thinking that their hands are clean just because their victims are forgotten.
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Nov 17, 2015
Nov 17, 2015 at 3:27 PM UTC
Line of blood
I could if I wished add to the list, it goes on if I do or do not I could imagine or throw in my lot with the wandering minstrels then I've got songs good or sad I could add. I imagine the preen if the peacock can preen is a scene clipped from Dante's inferno I know I have been there my plumes facing where the air meets resistance. I have fought and have failed seized the day and been jailed the German in me don't give a Fuchs but it's a patch under par and I have no wish to be a generalisation a mile post that marks the end of a civilisation. I am the art in me the living part of me and the only piece you see is that what you want me to be If it is a list and any addition I may make could be possibly missed Tough.
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May 24, 2016
May 24, 2016 at 8:09 PM UTC
Platinum
A kiss hits the lips, As cotton wool cannon ball, Full power, Dusting of icing sugar flies in my eyes, Blinded by sweetness, Cos love never dies! Love may become blinded, Or lost in a mist, Keep on practising, You'll soon get the gist, Believe can evade her, Never you can, Because woman is woman, And you're fickle man, Not in generalisation, Love lives in this nation, She believes like I, In world ********** Without love, There's nothing left! By ladylivvi1 © 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
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May 25, 2013
May 25, 2013 at 12:18 PM UTC
Blinded
A kiss hits the lips, As cotton wool cannon ball, Full power, Dusting of icing sugar flies in my eyes, Blinded by sweetness, Cos love never dies! Love may become blinded, Or lost in a mist, Keep on practising, You'll soon get the gist, Believe can evade her, Never you can, Because woman is woman, And you're fickle man, Not in generalisation, Love lives in this nation, She believes like I, In world ********** Without love, There's nothing left! By ladylivvi1 © 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
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May 25, 2013
May 25, 2013 at 12:17 PM UTC
Blinded
You asked me if I wanted to go to the movies Said you had an extra ticket And here I'm doing the math: On your party last weekend Your boyfriend analyzed my boredom The empty look in my eyes Quickly I proceeded to having fun A few days later you forwarded Two job adds from your account One of which I was underqualified for But thanks for the compliment One was to work at a Bio store Thanks for the gross generalisation But sincerely thanks for the effort x And finally today out of the blue You have one extra ticket That's you, him and me Free tickets come in pairs Sis It's either 2 or 4 And so I asked you: Is this an intervention? "...no... See you saturday" Hope you recovered well From the violent pantsfire :)
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Apr 15, 2015
Apr 15, 2015 at 3:42 PM UTC
The Intervention