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"group" poems
When i was 13 I thought that gay and straight were things that other people were People that weren't raised christian People that didn't have dads People that were abused People that i should pray for but not get close to when i was 14 my best friend came out as gay i didn't see it coming but i probably should have she wore ties every day and plaid shirts with the sleeves rolled up and cut her hair short as soon as she could but i didn’t see it because gay was other people when i was 14 i watched as the news spread like wildfire “did you hear? that girl is gay.” I watched as people slowly backed away from her people that knew her all her life that is, the people that didn’t cut her off instantly I watched as the youth group we had both attended asked her to leave I watched as her drama group kicked her out because they were afraid of the yearly camp we went to that somehow knowing that she was gay made her more likely to attack the other girls in their beds than the year before I watched. I didn’t do anything. what changed my mind wasn’t a change of perspective on queer people it still took me a year to decide being gay wasn’t wrong but i decided that my best friend was someone i would stick with because i loved her I quietly stayed. didn’t make a fuss, didn’t call people out when they called her names behind her back. I should have. but i didn’t. I didn’t join in, but i didn’t defend her i didn’t say to these people **** you that girl is beautiful and amazing and if you can’t see through your hatred then i don’t want to be your friend either but i didn’t . I didn’t go through what she did. I didn’t get kicked out of anything, i didn’t lose friends When i was 15, i got fed up I left that drama group. I stopped going to that church. I stepped away from those friends and even though i never said why the look on my face when i ran into them and they asked, “how’s she doing?” answered that question for them. I spent 24 hours examining my bible trying to find the verses that say being gay is wrong there were barely any and they were right next to verses that said eating pork was wrong or planting crops next to each other or wearing two different fabrics there was my answer. this isn't a story of my journey. This isn't me building myself up “hey, I wasn't as bad as those other people I’m good now” this is a story of how one person can change your life forever if i didn't have a gay best friend what a way to start a story, huh? if i didn't have a gay best friend then I would still be there quietly praying for the sins of others, but not trying to understand so don’t look at all Christians and say they’re awful they’re bigoted they’re judgmental because we are but often it’s because we don’t know any better teaching us kindly works leading by example.
0
Apr 24, 2014
Apr 24, 2014 at 1:27 AM UTC
If I Didn't Have a Gay Best Friend
When i was 13 I thought that gay and straight were things that other people were People that weren't raised christian People that didn't have dads People that were abused People that i should pray for but not get close to when i was 14 my best friend came out as gay i didn't see it coming but i probably should have she wore ties every day and plaid shirts with the sleeves rolled up and cut her hair short as soon as she could but i didn’t see it because gay was other people when i was 14 i watched as the news spread like wildfire “did you hear? that girl is gay.” I watched as people slowly backed away from her people that knew her all her life that is, the people that didn’t cut her off instantly I watched as the youth group we had both attended asked her to leave I watched as her drama group kicked her out because they were afraid of the yearly camp we went to that somehow knowing that she was gay made her more likely to attack the other girls in their beds than the year before I watched. I didn’t do anything. what changed my mind wasn’t a change of perspective on queer people it still took me a year to decide being gay wasn’t wrong but i decided that my best friend was someone i would stick with because i loved her I quietly stayed. didn’t make a fuss, didn’t call people out when they called her names behind her back. I should have. but i didn’t. I didn’t join in, but i didn’t defend her i didn’t say to these people **** you that girl is beautiful and amazing and if you can’t see through your hatred then i don’t want to be your friend either but i didn’t . I didn’t go through what she did. I didn’t get kicked out of anything, i didn’t lose friends When i was 15, i got fed up I left that drama group. I stopped going to that church. I stepped away from those friends and even though i never said why the look on my face when i ran into them and they asked, “how’s she doing?” answered that question for them. I spent 24 hours examining my bible trying to find the verses that say being gay is wrong there were barely any and they were right next to verses that said eating pork was wrong or planting crops next to each other or wearing two different fabrics there was my answer. this isn't a story of my journey. This isn't me building myself up “hey, I wasn't as bad as those other people I’m good now” this is a story of how one person can change your life forever if i didn't have a gay best friend what a way to start a story, huh? if i didn't have a gay best friend then I would still be there quietly praying for the sins of others, but not trying to understand so don’t look at all Christians and say they’re awful they’re bigoted they’re judgmental because we are but often it’s because we don’t know any better teaching us kindly works leading by example.
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67
You should never hate yourself. You should never sit in a crowded room and feel lonely. You should never feel abandoned in a group of friends. You should never change yourself because of other people's opinions. You should never think you are not enough. Please don't hate yourself. Please don't feel lonely. Please don't feel like an outcast. Please be yourself. Please, you are enough. Please. If you ever think no one loves you, just know that the King of kings, the Lord of lords, loves you so much. But I know sometimes you will feel this way. I understand, but maybe I don't. Just, please. Don't hurt yourself. In any way. Please.
0
Jun 11, 2018
Jun 11, 2018 at 11:54 AM UTC
Please.
This desolate road seems forever long And my worn feet will carry me through the ruin All alone, but if you had heard my song You might just understand why I’m doing Maybe I’m the strongest person of us all Maybe you’re used to me being alone But that doesn’t mean that when I take a fall I can survive, live on my own Noticing someone else’s suffering is hard Wrapped up in your troubles, with an aching heart But if you open your eyes, you’ll see a man apart If you can call me a man, I guess Walking round with an unchanged expression Ducking and keeping away from the deed You might think it’s all to get attention And you’re right, but that’s what I need I knew a group of people whom my heart held dear I loved them, and I love them still But they weren’t there for me in my time of fear Now I’m not gonna bend my will How many days of quiet can I keep? How hard will the blade into my mind seep? How long can I hide away and weep? Before you realise I’m not at best So it’s time to say fare thee well Don’t know where I’m strolling in my daze to Just gonna follow my path down the well See if it’s someplace new So I’ve thought it through and through again No pleading will make me change my head Maybe, before, if I had a friend But now, it’s too late to hear what I’ve said The love I have for you will always burn But my back’s to you, and I’ll always turn If you haven’t figured it out, you’ll never learn I want a hug, but I’m drowning in my sleepiness
0
Apr 2, 2018
Apr 2, 2018 at 3:11 AM UTC
Nowhere Boulevard
This desolate road seems forever long And my worn feet will carry me through the ruin All alone, but if you had heard my song You might just understand why I’m doing Maybe I’m the strongest person of us all Maybe you’re used to me being alone But that doesn’t mean that when I take a fall I can survive, live on my own Noticing someone else’s suffering is hard Wrapped up in your troubles, with an aching heart But if you open your eyes, you’ll see a man apart If you can call me a man, I guess Walking round with an unchanged expression Ducking and keeping away from the deed You might think it’s all to get attention And you’re right, but that’s what I need I knew a group of people whom my heart held dear I loved them, and I love them still But they weren’t there for me in my time of fear Now I’m not gonna bend my will How many days of quiet can I keep? How hard will the blade into my mind seep? How long can I hide away and weep? Before you realise I’m not at best So it’s time to say fare thee well Don’t know where I’m strolling in my daze to Just gonna follow my path down the well See if it’s someplace new So I’ve thought it through and through again No pleading will make me change my head Maybe, before, if I had a friend But now, it’s too late to hear what I’ve said The love I have for you will always burn But my back’s to you, and I’ll always turn If you haven’t figured it out, you’ll never learn I want a hug, but I’m drowning in my sleepiness
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36
Hi there. Sometimes it hurts to think. I'm driving around in my hometown I saw this old park that me and my friends would run and laugh and play at all the time. We played cops and robbers Lava Monster Freeze tag We acted like knights in strong armor and princesses with glittery dresses and we all slayed the dragons Well now here I am staring at this old swing set that no one swings on anymore. I used to think that I could touch the clouds with my feet if I swung high enough. There is something so lively about a group of kids laughing and playing on a playground. There is something so eerie about an old empty playground where no one goes. That playground used to be so alive. Now the swing creaks as it sways in the slight breeze. You can almost hear faint whispers of the kids laughing from years before. Now all those kids are adults with lives and responsibilities that are much more important than slaying a dragon. The wood has splinters that get stuck in your fingers. It is not shiny and fun anymore. It used to be new But I have found that everything changes eventually. I wish people didn't leave so unexpectedly. Anyways I am just rambling but next time you see a playground just try to look away. it hurts to think too long Bye.
0
Aug 27, 2018
Aug 27, 2018 at 7:10 PM UTC
Hi there
Sunday sermons are spilling on the inner city streets through the green heaps and brown bags through the downtown whisperers and sage solitude souls Army bands prepare for march (their trench members filling packs with canister and cane) the high command and tricked militia head pinned quick on the look for splinter, lorry and skuttle Traffic patterns change at the COP connect camouflage bearers break formal stride battle men slip between colorful floats unsuspecting slumlords (vein pricked and weary) grin in their second suite dying rooms Twitching men and rubbernecks sit discreetly on the corner wall JJ and the chief revere a 21 gun salute holy rollers raise cheer (in a moment of silence) chess men hold steady with ivory cues Flames belt from the distant foundry streets come alive with crackle and dust members of the attic group glance down from their perch an elderly man in a straight jacket (happy in the now) sits solemnly with a cold reflective stare It’s not far from the steely mud holes from the flying fragments and sharp broken dreams from the arsenal digs and madmen (who quietly turned the ***** the ivy trellis and flowing white gown are a nocturne fit for this elevated rolling highland
0
Apr 19, 2017
Apr 19, 2017 at 8:33 PM UTC
James Street Parade
I cannot pick a color I love more Each is thrilling and some seem the breath of life to all the rest I loved my crayons They became my escape from misery the contrast to any given day at school Any excuse to use them all or just one to avoid that lowest reading group the monstrosities of math If I couldn't sing it there were no letters in the alphabet I could not tell you A from Z But you see-- That day was purple! That was all that mattered I loved its richness and its depth its mystery its royalty King Midas would have liked it, I was sure almost a religion Vestments of the priest in the times of expectation It is the explanation for the last of day As a five-year-old I drew my love for purple Passionate and outside all the lines-- off onto the desk I was so proud! But-- Miss Platt, so horrified asked, What is it I was trying to do? I didn't know.... I was suddenly ashamed and frightened too
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Jul 23, 2018
Jul 23, 2018 at 1:06 PM UTC
Coloring in Kindergarten
Humans are by nature unappeasable  no matter their behavior. As a conformist We threaten outsiders, Yet long to be our own person. And individuality is no better, We long for acceptance of The group we once called home. That is the nature of humans, We viscously treat those that are not like us. Its no wonder so few are happy with such constant inner confliction. Because the human mind is a kingdom ruled by two fears, Fear of the unknown, And Fear of rejection.
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Jun 19, 2014
Jun 19, 2014 at 11:39 PM UTC
Individuality vs conformity
Due tomorrow: Lab report Argumentative essay Group project 39 textbook pages I can do this. Get some coffee and caffeine Lock the door and close the windows Put on those sound-blocking earbuds FOCUS Keep in mind the future good grade.
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May 17, 2014
May 17, 2014 at 8:07 AM UTC
Determination
Millions, trillions And more and more None of our finger prints are same None of our retinas are same Why do we limited to a group All of our bloods are Red And every heart has four chambers (arteries and ventricles) Common oxygen to breathe Why we are bounded to one group Everyone has birth from womb of a mother Every heart pumps the blood But Why we are confined to one group We are humans This was the only group We had with us Unity in diversity is what we want It should not be limited only for sayings We should follow this
0
Jun 23, 2014
Jun 23, 2014 at 12:40 AM UTC
525. Unity in diversity
I will never understand Society’s preference for love. It is made out to be Such a beautiful emotion In songs and movies. So why can’t everyone feel it? Is there no Freedom of emotion? Love is to be shared Between two emotion feeling things Right? So a man and a man can love each other. A woman and a man. A woman and a woman. What is so wrong with that? Social media is filled with same *** couples, Happily together For years upon years. So why shouldn’t they tie the knot? Do you realize that you’re making them feel less human Because they don’t have the same Privileges as straight couples. Bullying is made illegal in multiple states, Bullying includes not allowing people into You’re group. So how about we stop bullying Men that love men And women that love women. We are all equal.
0
Jul 17, 2014
Jul 17, 2014 at 5:32 AM UTC
Bullying Equality
To the teachers who never really cared and ignored my problems; To my fellow ***** “misfits”, etc. Who will no doubt receive more abuse upon my passing, as my tormentors will no longer have me to push around; To those who never cared, never spoke, probably never knew my name; To the one true friend, whose caring was the only thing that prevented this event from happening sooner; To the God, if he does exist, who chose to play a cruel, cruel joke on me when he placed me where he did and surrounded me with so many uncaring faces; What about my teachers? Will they be sorry to see another student become a statistic? Certainly the administration and Principal will mourn, as my death will not reflect well on them as an institution. Well, I apologize for making the statistics for your administration worse. But I don’t expect an apology for the false sympathies of people. As for my fellow students, those who made a more significant impact on my life, I know better than to expect my tormentors to mourn. There’s another group I have not yet addressed: those not like me who left me alone. Or should I say ignored me. I appreciate you sparing me any further harassment, but your inaction, your withheld hellos and how are you’s  did more hurt than any name calling. Your inaction effectively excluded me from student life, from the human race. You left me isolated and alone, and no words I could say can convey to you the suffering you caused. I could name names, but in doing so, I would do more now for you than you ever did for me in life. I do not know what awaits me when I get down off this rope. Will there be a void? Or will I come face to face with God? I just don’t care anymore. If you’re anything like your people, I wouldn’t want to know you. You preached to love one another, yet I’ve felt everything except love from Christians. Even if I knew you were different, well, I'd still reject you. You have left your “followers” to treat people like me poorly. You have allowed so many of the people you “love”, including me, to suffer. So you want me to trust you with my life? I don’t want to spend eternity with a careless deity like you, or with the company you keep. I’m trying to watch TV but I don’t know what I’m watching. It’s so lonely here. I want to sleep but it just won’t come. I’m so tired of hurting and being alone. I hope that with my death, there'll be a wider awareness for child abuse and the effects it could have on a person. That's the only wish I have right now. A lot of people will be hurt with my passing, disappointed even, or maybe it won't matter. But I'd like to believe, no matter how much of a ****** up person I am, I died for a cause greater and bigger than myself. That's the only consolation that I have right now. So that’s it. That’s me. Leaving the world to be a better place. Goodbye - T © Copyright Tyler Atherton
0
Sep 23, 2018
Sep 23, 2018 at 6:41 AM UTC
My Suicide Note
To the teachers who never really cared and ignored my problems; To my fellow ***** “misfits”, etc. Who will no doubt receive more abuse upon my passing, as my tormentors will no longer have me to push around; To those who never cared, never spoke, probably never knew my name; To the one true friend, whose caring was the only thing that prevented this event from happening sooner; To the God, if he does exist, who chose to play a cruel, cruel joke on me when he placed me where he did and surrounded me with so many uncaring faces; What about my teachers? Will they be sorry to see another student become a statistic? Certainly the administration and Principal will mourn, as my death will not reflect well on them as an institution. Well, I apologize for making the statistics for your administration worse. But I don’t expect an apology for the false sympathies of people. As for my fellow students, those who made a more significant impact on my life, I know better than to expect my tormentors to mourn. There’s another group I have not yet addressed: those not like me who left me alone. Or should I say ignored me. I appreciate you sparing me any further harassment, but your inaction, your withheld hellos and how are you’s  did more hurt than any name calling. Your inaction effectively excluded me from student life, from the human race. You left me isolated and alone, and no words I could say can convey to you the suffering you caused. I could name names, but in doing so, I would do more now for you than you ever did for me in life. I do not know what awaits me when I get down off this rope. Will there be a void? Or will I come face to face with God? I just don’t care anymore. If you’re anything like your people, I wouldn’t want to know you. You preached to love one another, yet I’ve felt everything except love from Christians. Even if I knew you were different, well, I'd still reject you. You have left your “followers” to treat people like me poorly. You have allowed so many of the people you “love”, including me, to suffer. So you want me to trust you with my life? I don’t want to spend eternity with a careless deity like you, or with the company you keep. I’m trying to watch TV but I don’t know what I’m watching. It’s so lonely here. I want to sleep but it just won’t come. I’m so tired of hurting and being alone. I hope that with my death, there'll be a wider awareness for child abuse and the effects it could have on a person. That's the only wish I have right now. A lot of people will be hurt with my passing, disappointed even, or maybe it won't matter. But I'd like to believe, no matter how much of a ****** up person I am, I died for a cause greater and bigger than myself. That's the only consolation that I have right now. So that’s it. That’s me. Leaving the world to be a better place. Goodbye - T © Copyright Tyler Atherton
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14
I never thought about it that much But making conversation is really hard stuff Put me on stage without a script and I'll shine Put me in a group of girls and I'll cry Because I'm a one of a kind extroverted introvert Really ******* confident and out of it But incredibly ******* shy I never really thought about what I say that much I think the most honest form of communication is touch If I want you out of my space I'll mumble "go away" But my actions are a lot louder throwing a punch at your face I struggle over Facebook when you say "what up" Because I'll say "hey" and immediately log out Its like my personality wants to be known But my words are muffled and rarely shown I'm a one of a kind extroverted introvert I don't expect you to understand
0
May 26, 2015
May 26, 2015 at 3:34 PM UTC
Extroverted Introvert
You are simply beyond description. For a definition is but a collection of words, and those words are just letters working together to tell a story. But your laugh takes me on an adventure through worlds undiscovered. Your eyes are deep oceans filled with tales of past shipwrecks before you realized that you were the treasure. Your heartbeat is a symphony composed in a melody that only we know.   So while describing you is this fool's errand, I know mere words will never completely capture you. For words are just letters working together to be beautiful, and you are more beautiful than any group of words can ever hope to be.
0
Apr 3, 2018
Apr 3, 2018 at 4:33 PM UTC
Untitled #14
During one of my recent internet travels, I came across a picture of a “minor”, posing with tinted lips and exposed ******* What got my eyes pinned were the thousand number of likes by virtually hooting “boys” and comments by other group of “gentlemen” telling her how to dress. HUMILITY: I have been asked to repeat the word too many times to recall what it means: the man on the subway cat-called and accused me of showing too much skin but instead of fighting back, I smiled because girls ought to be nice. I have been taught to survive by using my body as a swiss army knife, and I convince myself that there is protection in being polite. H-U-M-I-I am forgetting the rest. The smoke curled up from between his fingers and he blew out toxic, blurring my vision. I gasped and wheezed but I held my sneeze, I cannot slap him across his face. HUMILITY. So, I just pretended to cough, hoping he’ll feel ashamed. I have been trained to flutter my eyelash, clench my jaw at a whiplash and business school boys, who manifest success by refusing to take “NO” for an answer. And for every time his prying eyes scan down by body, as if rating my inexperienced assets on a scale of one to five, and every time his touch trails a chill down my spine, I wonder: Male kindness is so alien to us; we confuse it with seduction every time. HUMILITY: the quality of having a low view of one’s importance but, I fail to understand when did it become synonymous to diffidence; there is a subtle difference between papercuts and shattered integrity, holding hands and chaining souls, building houses and creating homes, humiliation rotting down to bones and humility. HUMILITY, have you spelled it too many times to know what it looks like?
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Sep 15, 2014
Sep 15, 2014 at 9:59 AM UTC
Humility
During one of my recent internet travels, I came across a picture of a “minor”, posing with tinted lips and exposed ******* What got my eyes pinned were the thousand number of likes by virtually hooting “boys” and comments by other group of “gentlemen” telling her how to dress. HUMILITY: I have been asked to repeat the word too many times to recall what it means: the man on the subway cat-called and accused me of showing too much skin but instead of fighting back, I smiled because girls ought to be nice. I have been taught to survive by using my body as a swiss army knife, and I convince myself that there is protection in being polite. H-U-M-I-I am forgetting the rest. The smoke curled up from between his fingers and he blew out toxic, blurring my vision. I gasped and wheezed but I held my sneeze, I cannot slap him across his face. HUMILITY. So, I just pretended to cough, hoping he’ll feel ashamed. I have been trained to flutter my eyelash, clench my jaw at a whiplash and business school boys, who manifest success by refusing to take “NO” for an answer. And for every time his prying eyes scan down by body, as if rating my inexperienced assets on a scale of one to five, and every time his touch trails a chill down my spine, I wonder: Male kindness is so alien to us; we confuse it with seduction every time. HUMILITY: the quality of having a low view of one’s importance but, I fail to understand when did it become synonymous to diffidence; there is a subtle difference between papercuts and shattered integrity, holding hands and chaining souls, building houses and creating homes, humiliation rotting down to bones and humility. HUMILITY, have you spelled it too many times to know what it looks like?
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45
look at the stars at night, and just think about how many there are, and how every star has a planet, orbiting around her, and how those stars collect into a large group, and they form a galaxy, and how thousands and thousands of those fascinating galaxies make one huge cosmos. *be in love with the stars, they'll lead you to another world.*
0
Apr 18, 2014
Apr 18, 2014 at 1:24 PM UTC
galaxy
Somehow your heart enzymes inveigled a way into my system I surmise it was your energising tongue which smuggled them in my pseudoanaphylactic longing to snuggle in vein against your protein its aim a happy interaction tugged by frenzied polypeptide chains when your petite triglycerides coil avidly around my pH changes hydrolysis replenishes steroids to stop any pleasure level plunge so that functional-group transfers may intervene at all active sites supervising where coenzymes await love's coursing stem cell sights that photosynthesise my eyes to sensitise to you despite the dark dancing in all my living cells with infectious smiles an epidemic when your DNA can't polymerase enough of the audacious lipids pleasing as they kiss the density away of fatty acids on soft lips that release protease inhibitors in ways not too selective so our hearts find their metabolic pathway audaciously live and offer themselves completely to a frolic in love reactive
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Jul 28, 2014
Jul 28, 2014 at 12:06 PM UTC
Love's Enzymes Are Carried On A Polypeptide
There's this boy group Which I love the most I support them at all cost Their faces are poetry in motion Their eyes are beautiful But we don't know they may be sorrowful I laugh when they laugh I cry when they cry They're the first kpop group to be on billboard music awards "Teamwork makes the dream work"their leader says "Love yourself, love myself" I always wonder what they're doing Always worry how they're doing Seeing them makes my day complete They are my inspiration and source of happiness Some may say it's easy to be a fangirl. But it's also hard for us because it hurts that they don't know each one of us.
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Aug 14, 2017
Aug 14, 2017 at 7:09 AM UTC
Being a fan is also Hard
Bakit ako nasasaktan? Alam ko naman na ako Ako ang dahilan kung bakit ako nasasaktan Sa dami dami dami ng pagkakataon ko Nakasabay kita sa pag uwi Nakasabay kita sa pagkain ng tanghalian Kaklase maghapon Kapwa leader ng mga group mates natin Sa dami dami dami dami dami dami Ng pagkakataon ko na masabi ang nararadaman ko Nanitili akong walang kibo. Kaya bakit ako masasaktan Kung sa una palang ako na ang may kasalanan Ako tong nanatiling bulag pipi at bingi sa nararamdaman Bulag sa katotohan na pwede nman talaga tayo Pipi sa pagsasabi ng nararamdaman ko at Bingi sa puso kong walang ibang sigaw kundi ang pangalan mo. Ngayong wala na. natagpuan mo na ang tamang “sya” At oo, Oo nasasaktan ako Nasasaktan parin ako Oo nasasaktan ako kasi sweet kayo Oo nasasaktan ako kasi nakikita ko mahal nyo ang isat isa At yung ang kinasasaktan ko Oo nasasaktan ako Oo nasasaktan ako Sakit na sakit na ako. May naisip na akong magandang ideya, Hindi kita papansinin. Parang hindi ko pagpansin sa nararamdaman ko Kahit ikaw parin ang laman nito. Didistansya ako na Malayong malayong malayong sayo para hindi mo Makita na Nasasaktan ako Ganun nalang talaga siguro ang magagawa ko Ang manatiling bulag pipi at bingi ang sarili ko. -end-
0
Dec 21, 2015
Dec 21, 2015 at 4:21 AM UTC
Why?
By now,the seed varieties of the world, may have been attacked beyond recovery by wars of pretense and relapses. We are still learning how to handle it properly. We tend to say. Some will talk and plan over dinner parties, over TV or Radio. Most will leave it behind like another corpse of lessons thrown to the gutter, like a dead *** on another Sunset Boulevard. Iraq's seed banks we blew up in the 2000s. In various places in Asia and the Middle East, places of life and cultured varieties gone in an instant. Echoing our imprisoned ignorance and drives for more instant goods and services. Indian farmers have committed mass suicides after their god Hanuman was used by a chemical giant to sell poison seeds and renewed bondages of indebtedness. One question a stranger asked a group of writers on tour was not what their poetry or books were about, nor why they wrote it, but how writing may and may not be helping as we make decisions and solve problems now? Once agricultural lands turn into new promises of commercial buildings. Cities of inaccessible towers and abandoned malls in America, Spain, China, and Russia feeds us back our own echo. Like converted uses of lands, our humanity is converted into inanimate collections and status symbols of some players or parties. As we face our continuing struggle between our oppressor-selves and our genuine roots. Despite the perversions, inside vicious habits of waste where we glorify promises of war and efficiencies, we continue to be entrusted with the ongoing lessons: Rarely do surviving generations through famine, war and diseases, throw away means to live, or destroy any kind of seed. Every day we wake to the ruins and remains of Our living poetry, word spaces, hours, exchanges, gains and losses, stopping and going. This time, not just for fires of anguish or unnecessary losses, but for each other's midnight lamps.#
0
Sep 3, 2018
Sep 3, 2018 at 12:42 AM UTC
BURIED
By now,the seed varieties of the world, may have been attacked beyond recovery by wars of pretense and relapses. We are still learning how to handle it properly. We tend to say. Some will talk and plan over dinner parties, over TV or Radio. Most will leave it behind like another corpse of lessons thrown to the gutter, like a dead *** on another Sunset Boulevard. Iraq's seed banks we blew up in the 2000s. In various places in Asia and the Middle East, places of life and cultured varieties gone in an instant. Echoing our imprisoned ignorance and drives for more instant goods and services. Indian farmers have committed mass suicides after their god Hanuman was used by a chemical giant to sell poison seeds and renewed bondages of indebtedness. One question a stranger asked a group of writers on tour was not what their poetry or books were about, nor why they wrote it, but how writing may and may not be helping as we make decisions and solve problems now? Once agricultural lands turn into new promises of commercial buildings. Cities of inaccessible towers and abandoned malls in America, Spain, China, and Russia feeds us back our own echo. Like converted uses of lands, our humanity is converted into inanimate collections and status symbols of some players or parties. As we face our continuing struggle between our oppressor-selves and our genuine roots. Despite the perversions, inside vicious habits of waste where we glorify promises of war and efficiencies, we continue to be entrusted with the ongoing lessons: Rarely do surviving generations through famine, war and diseases, throw away means to live, or destroy any kind of seed. Every day we wake to the ruins and remains of Our living poetry, word spaces, hours, exchanges, gains and losses, stopping and going. This time, not just for fires of anguish or unnecessary losses, but for each other's midnight lamps.#
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I'd like to tell you a story It begins in 1492 When dear old Christopher Columbus Sailed the ocean blue He landed on what he thought To be the country of India He stumbled upon a group of people Who appeared to be indigenous Because these native people Happened to be where he thought he was He called them all "Indians" && somehow that name stuck They welcomed his group with open arms Even offered them their feast Unaware that deep inside They were but wolves, dressed as sheep Columbus && his crew Soon ravaged the land They took what they saw Then they took full command Of the people they found On the land where they landed They felt they should rule So they stepped in, heavy handed They murdered the people Who had taken them in Set fire to their villages While the victims watched with their kin Flash forward to the future It's now 2016 It's been over 500 years Since the overtaking by the regime Future settlers decided To let the survivors live on They designated them small areas Of what had not yet been robbed These Native Americans, Generally keep to themselves They get by living off their land But now they need your help The Sioux of Standing Rock Are being horribly mistreated The state of North Dakota Is poisoning them without reason A pipeline has been built That runs through this Native territory When Bismarck residents didn't want it It was rerouted, how discriminatory People from all over the country Are seeming to agree They are making the commute To protest peacefully In defense of an oppressed people Who only want to live But the government is stepping in Even blowing off some limbs "Let them die, they're not like us" the message the administration is sending It seems that after all this time The battle is never-ending What exactly does it take For people to see eye-to-eye? In the end we're all just human   We kiss, we laugh, we cry So if you have a heart at all If you know that this is wrong Please join the Sioux in their mission By coming together, we can be strong
0
Dec 2, 2016
Dec 2, 2016 at 11:30 PM UTC
History's Repeating
I'd like to tell you a story It begins in 1492 When dear old Christopher Columbus Sailed the ocean blue He landed on what he thought To be the country of India He stumbled upon a group of people Who appeared to be indigenous Because these native people Happened to be where he thought he was He called them all "Indians" && somehow that name stuck They welcomed his group with open arms Even offered them their feast Unaware that deep inside They were but wolves, dressed as sheep Columbus && his crew Soon ravaged the land They took what they saw Then they took full command Of the people they found On the land where they landed They felt they should rule So they stepped in, heavy handed They murdered the people Who had taken them in Set fire to their villages While the victims watched with their kin Flash forward to the future It's now 2016 It's been over 500 years Since the overtaking by the regime Future settlers decided To let the survivors live on They designated them small areas Of what had not yet been robbed These Native Americans, Generally keep to themselves They get by living off their land But now they need your help The Sioux of Standing Rock Are being horribly mistreated The state of North Dakota Is poisoning them without reason A pipeline has been built That runs through this Native territory When Bismarck residents didn't want it It was rerouted, how discriminatory People from all over the country Are seeming to agree They are making the commute To protest peacefully In defense of an oppressed people Who only want to live But the government is stepping in Even blowing off some limbs "Let them die, they're not like us" the message the administration is sending It seems that after all this time The battle is never-ending What exactly does it take For people to see eye-to-eye? In the end we're all just human   We kiss, we laugh, we cry So if you have a heart at all If you know that this is wrong Please join the Sioux in their mission By coming together, we can be strong
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My Flutter because a flutter is a group of butterflies like you give me all the time I really love your flutter smiles your flutter eyes, your flutter ears I've loved you flutter for a couple years with a fluttery heart and a secret glance and then we gave our love a chance to fly, to flutter, and to soar I want to flutter evermore yes i know these words are cheesy but i hope they flutter freely In your heart and in your mind as i sneak between your smiles as i steal my path past grins i hope that you'll remember them a simple gift to you from me I always want to make you happy The smiles on your face sweetly fluttering into place evidence that i make That butterfly in your chest flutter quick and race to your fluttery happy place I LOVE YOU FLUTTER!
0
Mar 22, 2012
Mar 22, 2012 at 6:18 PM UTC
Flutter (warning : cheesy)
My friends describe me as a man of few verbal words. Funnily, the words are chosen poorly for someone who thinks so much about what a person should and shouldn't say. Last year, a classmate told me she would get at least three words out of me before our study group quit for the night. I responded,”You lose”.
0
Aug 22, 2015
Aug 22, 2015 at 12:20 AM UTC
I'm not shy, I'm purposefully mute.
Sisters, We are in trouble Overwhelmed by reality We choose to sleep Being awake is painful true But what else would you choose? Disconnected with the truth Disillusioned with "inclusion" But when we as women chose to stand With other women Away from our brethren We undermined our people Their problems weren't ours Respect in our households and communities was never the problem But now we're truly included In the reign of terror By the hegemony that we were never actually excluded from So now while we've branched off Into this group and that Engulfed in the rainbows, weaves, ****** objectification, drugs and popular culture We are sleep crawling To our extinction It is better to live through pain I n order to achieve gain Than to nap through life Never understanding your greatness It is time to rise and return home
0
Sep 21, 2015
Sep 21, 2015 at 7:24 PM UTC
ALARM
What is my motherland? Is it the dust that ravages my lungs Or the bones of my ancestors Humming softly the old and forgotten What is my motherland? Is it where I was born? A piece of land, a group of people? Or is it the place where It's mothers are graded In layers Where some wombs only give birth To sub humans Where some wombs are scarred Born from the ashes of a thousand dreams burnt down I'm a survivor Of all they could throw at you Of all their insults The predicament My mother's womb that withstood all it could And some more They tell me this is my land That it is my mother The birth giver and sustainer of life I spit on their faces My motherland never was this piece of land Or the people who **** on its soul Each and every day My people lived in a different world On this piece of land where we were worse than animals to you Where is my motherland? I have none Robbed of it since my birth Where is my motherland? But in the hearts of all who are like me Set in stone Yet defying gravity
0
Jan 6, 2016
Jan 6, 2016 at 5:26 PM UTC
Motherland
We, the voice of the most oppressed, Work in the profession remaining the most humble, Throughout histories, as slaves our lives still remain tumble, With our strangled necks, we are deliberately suppressed For the centuries, our voices remain unheard, Like a weeping fish at the sea, We are treated zombies at the rush of a blood, Collecting by hand, the human society’s poops & pea Things for us got intensely worse, We work as a group with an isolated curse, For our livelihood, go into manholes as bare-bodies Mostly get out as dead-bodies From pathology to oncology, We are treated untouchables, even by the modern technology We are the oxygen-offering trees that remain green Hurting ourselves, collecting excreta making this world neat &clean With our hand-cuffs we shout and fight, Rulers remain drunken-deafs to our plight, Hell with your knowledge, to those who go to college And keep pushing us to the drainage, We remain living dead and frustrated, to get our right When asked about work, we remain dumb and blind, Fearing the responses to our ***** revelations, Because humans are unemphathetic and unkind To get our life some elevations. Our mind said us “Please think! Please Think!” When we revolt not to work, societies stink, We warn, Witness your locality ***** To our sufferings, if you keep blank & empty. We are a collective voice, Representing inhuman humanity, That keeps the society on a poise, So raise your voice, with a clarity of choice To get us work with the utmost dignity!
0
Sep 24, 2018
Sep 24, 2018 at 9:12 AM UTC
A Deadly cry of a manual scavenger
We, the voice of the most oppressed, Work in the profession remaining the most humble, Throughout histories, as slaves our lives still remain tumble, With our strangled necks, we are deliberately suppressed For the centuries, our voices remain unheard, Like a weeping fish at the sea, We are treated zombies at the rush of a blood, Collecting by hand, the human society’s poops & pea Things for us got intensely worse, We work as a group with an isolated curse, For our livelihood, go into manholes as bare-bodies Mostly get out as dead-bodies From pathology to oncology, We are treated untouchables, even by the modern technology We are the oxygen-offering trees that remain green Hurting ourselves, collecting excreta making this world neat &clean With our hand-cuffs we shout and fight, Rulers remain drunken-deafs to our plight, Hell with your knowledge, to those who go to college And keep pushing us to the drainage, We remain living dead and frustrated, to get our right When asked about work, we remain dumb and blind, Fearing the responses to our ***** revelations, Because humans are unemphathetic and unkind To get our life some elevations. Our mind said us “Please think! Please Think!” When we revolt not to work, societies stink, We warn, Witness your locality ***** To our sufferings, if you keep blank & empty. We are a collective voice, Representing inhuman humanity, That keeps the society on a poise, So raise your voice, with a clarity of choice To get us work with the utmost dignity!
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