"hierarchies" poems
They say the sea is cold, but the sea contains
the hottest blood of all, and the wildest, the most urgent.
All the whales in the wider deeps, hot are they, as they urge
on and on, and dive beneath the icebergs.
The right whales, the sperm-whales, the hammer-heads, the killers
there they blow, there they blow, hot wild white breath out of
the sea!
And they rock, and they rock, through the sensual ageless ages
on the depths of the seven seas,
and through the salt they reel with drunk delight
and in the tropics tremble they with love
and roll with massive, strong desire, like gods.
Then the great bull lies up against his bride
in the blue deep bed of the sea,
as mountain pressing on mountain, in the zest of life:
and out of the inward roaring of the inner red ocean of whale-blood
the long tip reaches strong, intense, like the maelstrom-tip, and
comes to rest
in the clasp and the soft, wild clutch of a she-whale's
fathomless body.
And over the bridge of the whale's strong phallus, linking the
wonder of whales
the burning archangels under the sea keep passing, back and
forth,
keep passing, archangels of bliss
from him to her, from her to him, great Cherubim
that wait on whales in mid-ocean, suspended in the waves of the
sea
great heaven of whales in the waters, old hierarchies.
And enormous mother whales lie dreaming suckling their whale-
tender young
and dreaming with strange whale eyes wide open in the waters of
the beginning and the end.
And bull-whales gather their women and whale-calves in a ring
when danger threatens, on the surface of the ceaseless flood
and range themselves like great fierce Seraphim facing the threat
encircling their huddled monsters of love.
And all this happens in the sea, in the salt
where God is also love, but without words:
and Aphrodite is the wife of whales
most happy, happy she!
and Venus among the fishes skips and is a she-dolphin
she is the gay, delighted porpoise sporting with love and the sea
she is the female tunny-fish, round and happy among the males
and dense with happy blood, dark rainbow bliss in the sea.
8.9k
An abstract of an academic paper written by a doctoral student: "In this semimanifesto, I approach how understandings of quantum physics and cyborgian bodies can (or always already do) ally with feminist anti-oppression practices long in use. The idea of the body (whether biological, social, or of work) is not stagnant, and new materialist feminisms help to recognize how multiple phenomena work together to behave in what can become legible at any given moment as a body. By utilizing the materiality of conceptions about connectivity often thought to be merely theoretical, by taking a critical look at the noncentralized and multiple movements of quantum physics, and by dehierarchizing the necessity of linear bodies through time, it becomes possible to reconfigure structures of value, longevity, and subjectivity in ways explicitly aligned with anti-oppression practices and identity politics. Combining intersectionality and quantum physics can provide for differing perspectives on organizing practices long used by marginalized people, for enabling apparatuses that allow for new possibilities of safer spaces, and for practices of accountability."--an abstract of a paper by doctoral student Whitney Stark
Atomic particles, how can it be so
that your purpose is not just to flow
in and out of existence, building reality--
the stars, cosmic gas and galaxies--
but to “ally” with groups of humans fighting “hierarchies”
and demanding “safe spaces”
(even though their entire race is
at the top of their planet’s food chain).
In this mysterious universe there is no safety,
accountability or identity,
only elements, and energy.
Brief combinations make life
legible for a nanosecond in cosmic time, and doomed to strife.
Biology does not know oppression,
only generation, reproduction,
until our growth chokes us and we fall
like so many of our ancestors, who lived and died
on this blue-green ball.
And one day the sun will explode and blow
even our atoms, which have endured (despite oppression),
and the particles will go far until maybe they sow
new life, in bodies unfamiliar, on planets unknown.
Jun 11, 2017
Jun 11, 2017 at 9:31 AM UTC
therapy and resistance
how is it that therapy becomes the excess of class war or the oppression thereof?
When the struggle of the individual is made to seem self induced when it is easily and clearly directly a result of the failures and complacence afforded by the majority of the group.
When in a therapeutic environment it is important to distinguish the opportunities of resistance from the experience of trauma.
there has always been individuals who establish groups that are in a realm of desperation.
Understanding how this process has unfolded institutionally is just as valid as treating the individual.
This gives the individual the choice and resources needed to heal.
The healing could look like resistance rather than assuming aspects of class war or oppressive culture to be normal.
Otherwise therapy is nothing but the means to normalize the process of oppression.
The traumatic state needs to be able to decipher its organic existence from that of organized oppression and its institutional cooperation.
the neglect of deciphering or distinguishing these differences causes individuals to make a competition out of trauma. This minimizes certain trauma of individuals and causes the group to have less of an opportunity to resist organized oppression of the institution.
Those that are in the realm of desperation or traumatic state are given no choice but to repress in order to continue being social or a member of the group.
in excess the hierarchies of gender, race and class are reinforced to an almost superhuman level.
To the desperate or traumatic state…
what needs reinforcement is that there are humans just like us who have resisted oppression and caused the normalcy of the group to be more inclusive and aware of the processes associated with organized oppression.
Apr 20, 2017
Apr 20, 2017 at 7:30 PM UTC
Eternity is closed !
- come back another day with
flower smears for eyes and sincere
passion on your
palms (weathered)
I need another Russian Doll -
Princess to frequent curtains
fashioned from fire & lead
equaling out to crimson folds
which mysteriously call to
the mystical hierarchies of
imagination
Silent requirements signal beneath the steps
which welcome
one (a stranger/
an Ibis-Beak cane & dark coat
stamped with August rain)
They arrive unexpectedly, as if to play the game
of cliches, they carry promises fashioned in foreign ports
tapping my knee
instead of my shoulder
having only known or recognized
entombment
(there is no hyperbole which lacks within
Nature's haunted heavens)
My strange visitor leaves / glass umbrella
in hand / to privacy / our brief interaction begins & ends with simple eager undertakings implemented
in the afterword
What is in another's contemplation of me?
whiling in manifest Theosophy -
- Thought form -
Primal child-rage / whisp of violet smoke &
inksplotches abolished, mutually panting.
Our decorated
four-legged hunter
has arisen and impatiently
craves for the Earth to partner at last with
the Sun
..The Sun a blazing dime
I can smell crispness
in the air
Jul 31, 2018
Jul 31, 2018 at 1:20 AM UTC
*My heart
Feels like a frostbitten cave nobody should ever go in.
My soul
Feels exhausted, drained and spread really thin.
My mind
Feels like its fighting battles it can never win.*
I find my thoughts
Consumed with anger and despair,
Evil feelings who have created a lair –
A base of operations within my mind,
Staring at the world with a terrifying glare.
And yet, despite all this,
Nothing kills me more than being alone.
This need to experience humanity
Is not simply an act of vanity,
Or a call for attention,
But an attempt at reclaiming sanity.
We are the loneliest generation of all time;
Previous overlords used force to rule,
And whoever didn’t follow was lambasted,
Marked as a traitor and a base fool.
Now, force is merely a tool,
One in many of a lethal arsenal.
Social hierarchies are fake, sometimes downright farcical –
Now, we are divided and conquered.
Our communities have collided,
Our love for each other is drained and flustered.
We are armed with shields of prejudice,
Careening towards a perilous precipice
Of watching out only for ourselves,
With no room in our hearts for anyone else.
I just wish I could let go –
I wish I was an atom of boiling water,
About to break free and become steam,
I wish to taste of true freedom,
To at least get one, tiny gleam.
Yet,
I find myself weary, tired and trapped,
A torturous routine so well-travelled
That, at this point, I could say my brain has it mapped.
I close my eyes
And see visions of you I wish I could forget.
I wish I’d looked before I leapt,
Rather than live with this pain and regret.
I close my eyes, and see
Years of seeking somewhere I belong,
Brothers and sisters with whom I can stand strong.
Yet,
All I seem to find
Is people struggling with their daily grind,
Souls that are just as tired as mine, if not more.
*And so, I find myself
Dealing with this constant craving,
Ranting and raving,
Hoping that this frosty cave is still open to reclaiming,
Hoping that my soul is still worth saving,
And that my mind still finds this battlefield worth braving.*
Aug 12, 2018
Aug 12, 2018 at 4:06 AM UTC
You don't care about me
Or your best friend in the school
You don't care about the people
who think that you're cool
The world worships you
Build you up so high
Now all of my friends
Have left me for a guy
A guy who doesn't care
If they love him or not
A guy who just thinks he's the best in the lot
But he's not the best
But you don't know
Because what is the truth
Is not what your hierarchies show
Jun 5, 2012
Jun 5, 2012 at 11:10 PM UTC
Wisps of fog dragged
upon the ground, as errant
raindrops bided gray time.
Eyes fixed afield, sharing
an inertness that revitalized
our gray matter.
Robins and blackbirds scattered
their weightless will upon the
damp field.
As nearly imperceptible twinges of
sunlight interrupted the air, then
vanished.
This occurred in confidences, everytime the sunlight gained
upon itself.
The fog began burning off in
decrepid scraps...put asunder
by the field's thundering
anticipation.
The fog was lifted to spring's hierarchies of light...as blackbirds
electrified puddles in a flurry of
wings.
Spraying droplets of water
adorning the sunlight, then flying to
a favored branch shaking dry.
Eyes fixed afield, I was showered below
by accolades of rebirth.
Mar 29, 2016
Mar 29, 2016 at 8:52 AM UTC
did you see love died
yesterday? –
like an unwanted baby
in the gutter, in the bin
without a whimper
without a moan;
O did you see
love died yesterday?
first we shouted this is mine
that’s yours
and this is us, that’s you
and drew bold black lines
round the earth
and cunning prevailed
over oceans and sky –
O did you see this way,
love died yesterday?
and we instituted
societies
and hierarchies
and had measures
so the many would serve the few
and so love died,
did you see, yesterday?
and we came back from hills
and caves and deserts
and we said: *God spoke to me
and this is the Word that is in the Book
and if you disagree, you’re dead meat!*
and so we killed one another
but O, it’s love we killed
did you see that
how love died yesterday?
and some grew insane
the inspiration became depravity
and they said God sanctioned killing
*God wants blood!
God wants me to ****
That’s what they say.
O, do you see
love died yesterday?
did you see love died
yesterday? –
like an unwanted baby
in the gutter, in the bin
without a whimper
without a moan;
O did you see
love died yesterday?
Oct 16, 2010
Oct 16, 2010 at 8:08 PM UTC
We grew the earth, grew it around us and grew into it.
We grew into pairs of shoes after pairs of shoes
and we grew into our names.
We learnt to tie the laces of our shoes
and to tie our tongues around our names,
and the names of other things, other people,
and around other people's tongues.
We planted our cultures, cultivated them,
and they blossomed into traditions
and stereotypes and generalisations and rituals.
We broke in our shoes, broke the ice,
broke our voices, broke promises.
We broke glasses, hearts and bones.
We built hierarchies, looked up, looked down, bowed down.
We broke down into dictatorships and demonstration.
We found solutions like democracy
and diplomas and delegated.
We fixed fountains and freight trains
and falling trees in the forest and faucets that leaked.
We formed partnerships, made promises,
pledged to parties for both politics and both parents.
We made marriage and then we annulled, we divorced.
We fabricated the faiths that we fed on.
We invented stopwatches, reality television,
pedicures, lampshades, philosophy,
greenhouses, dictionaries, exclusivity,
feng shui, hand-holding, ****** medication,
street art, lawsuits, lingerie, car boot sales,
snow days, karaoke, comics, psychics,
boarding schools, toast, baseball, psychiatry,
bird-watching, plaid, research, stag nights,
slasher movies, salads, and interventions.
We wanted and we wished and we waited
and we wanted for more.
We were growing faster than we invented.
We were outgrowing ourselves
and our earth
and our shoes
and our names.
We forgot what we had found and fixed and formed.
We broke down and went broke.
We are waiting to invent a new way we can fix ourselves.
Dec 1, 2014
Dec 1, 2014 at 8:43 AM UTC
wings of birds were stolen by the gods, centuries ago
an earth's day lasts for 86, 400.002 seconds
children are roaming in the mind of these lines
they are counting, playfully and without feelings
days come and go, they float through our lives
i wrote about the stages of dreams and dreamt of an ********
the ruins of old poems are silver, blue and red
remains of a day's thoughts, decoded and clear, similarly
it is not wise to count seconds while you are breathing
it is not wise to count on people while they are leaving
it is strange to use "wise" in order to refer to cleverness
people of color may feel excluded by our languages
in german, "white" is called "weiß" and that sounds like "wise"
explain to me the origins of such a word, i demand it
before the river will have swallowed me; i demand an answer
poems come, poems go, leave a trace, stain – and a change
fools are flodding the streets in order to have a five o'clock tea
proudly, they are talking about their old heroes, bearded conquerors
these guys nevah really wanted to dig strangaz, dey killed 'em.
they killed unknown people, they stabbed my dreams
they murdered ancestors because they were used to murdering
they invented words without speaking but grinning
power is an invisible instrument that consists of hierarchies
power is what we see and oversee, power is the origin of wars
wars are the origin of despair; and that is nothing new
wars, though, may be invisible and silent, just in the mind
what is a war, does a war need bombs, guns and soldiers?
wars occur everywhere, daily, within 86, 400.002 seconds
the length of a day is measured in numbers; they are just inventions
numbers are man-made, animals orient on the sun and the moon
humans celebrate planets and write poems about them
we all will surive as long as we keep writing and tolerate each other
Jun 19, 2020
Jun 19, 2020 at 9:16 AM UTC
Oh, it’s pain, it’s struggle
you move through light and sound
you are sensitive and indoctrinated
and take in everything like a sponge,
when you are a young
you are confused and desperate and
humiliated, very little makes sense
everyone has a story and this is true,
we are so different, even though we are
a lot alike, we figure out reasons to segregate each
other.
we try to figure out each other, form tribes and hierarchies
a lot of people want power and influence and when you become a teenager you want ***
and that becomes so important
and people want to be considered smart, good looking
a great athlete, make great decisions,
make someone proud, make themselves proud
yet, there is something always trying to **** you,
something trying to ****** you, something always
to be ashamed of, you know
and then there are people who think or pretend to KNOW
but they do not KNOW, nobody really KNOWS
we play games with each other, sometimes funny and nice
but quite often very cruel games: like fights, and war
one tribe against another tribe, a battle to death
some of us are very complex, and others’ not so
and this is what makes us human,
yet we all feel, some more or less than the others
some of us search meaning, and others are fine with meaningless.
Until the hearts stop beating, and the blood stops flowing
Dec 28, 2015
Dec 28, 2015 at 6:42 PM UTC
Let’s move to a hippie commune. Let’s grow out our hair and spend our days sitting under the shade of sweeping, graceful trees. Let’s spend so much time outside that our hair goes blonde. Let’s write poetry in notebooks and not be afraid to read it out loud. Let’s make friends who care about things. People who want to help other people. I want to be a person among the noise but who does not always need to contribute to it.
Let’s listen. Listen to what our fellow people have to say—and then let’s support them. Can we just sit around a campfire and let that be the thing we do that night?
Now and then, let’s go out and be whatever the community needs. Not because we should nor because of some religious mandate, but because we can. I want to be part of a community that leans on each other. No hierarchies. Common good. Putting forth what one has, be it material or otherwise, for the sake of sharing. Let’s feed birds, squirrels and children.
Let’s make love on a blanket in the shade. I’ll let my long hair swing while I’m on top of you and kiss you hard on the mouth, completely out in the open. Hard.
Let’s forget about time and live by the sun. Let’s be awake when we’re awake and be sleeping when we’re tired. Let’s eat when we’re hungry and not because it’s time. When a cool breeze floats in, let’s stop everything we’re doing and breathe it in. Let’s smoke a joint.
Let’s bathe in a river. Let’s float in the soft current and let it ease our minds. Let’s take all our worries to the water. Let’s leave them there.
Let’s build our social network by shaking hands. Let’s solidify those connections by singing together. Let’s slow our hearts by talking about books.
Let’s cry when we’re sad. I want to feel something real and unabashedly open myself up to its profound ability to change me.
Let’s laugh when we’re happy. Let’s smile so wide we can’t help but let a giggle escape. Let’s allow ourselves to experience moments so deeply that we are shaped by them.
Let’s be together in a field. Let’s make wishes on flowers and tuck them into my hair for safekeeping.
Let’s make music a vital component of our love. Let’s never go anywhere without each other and a guitar.
Let’s dance. With closed eyes, let’s swing our arms around and let our bodies move however they please.
Let’s sit on the ground and feel the earth. Let’s sleep under stars.
Let’s go to sleep in each other’s arms. Let’s rock each other to sleep. Always.
Nov 14, 2011
Nov 14, 2011 at 3:41 PM UTC
if
you
are
reading
this,
then,
you
aren't
alone.
your
being
-right now-
by virtue of
reading this
is
with
mine;
and mine,
with yours.
and even when
you go
away,
you
are still here,
existing in
my
little
poem,
smeared
light
remnants
rubbing up
against mine.
and even when i go away
after sending this off,
i too will still be here
like you.
all of our weird
written words
penned at a distance are
always connected
by some
strange
residual angle
and spin
emitted,
leftover
from our
small but
eternal
interactions;
alignments of the light which do not discriminate,
nor create hierarchies of strict titanic binaries
that demand and interrogate..
your
big
red
hearts
make my
little grey
lightning bolts
light up:
bright yellow strikes fluoresce
over and
over
and
o v e r,
again and again.
your
tiny torch
forever
charging
me,
even as i
cool off
and
darken,
is much appreciated,
dear poets
of
mine.
Apr 29, 2016
Apr 29, 2016 at 1:47 PM UTC
on this sea of social turbulence
skin dictates
the price of the ticket
rotating rainbows-no more whites
red is distinct
black is forbidden fruit
cast into the ghettos of the decaying mind
banished from the beauty of eden. why?
we all came from a pinpoint in evolution
in clusters we migrated
to the corners of the globe
seeking multi-verses of origin
yet we create hierarchies of skintone. why?
the gaps in our thinking
are like holes in a doughnut
spiraling galaxies of hate
into whirlpools of ignorance.why?
cast into the seed core
is a colorless quantum of choice
the difference -your destiny. think.
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, 17 days ago
- See more at: http://allpoetry.com/poem/11673701-Castaway-by-Marshall-Gass-noguest#sthash.alhKPVLX.dpuf
Oct 12, 2014
Oct 12, 2014 at 8:14 PM UTC
on this sea of social turbulence
skin dictates
the price of the ticket
rotating rainbows-no more whites
red is distinct
black is forbidden fruit
cast into the ghettos of the decaying mind
banished from the beauty of eden. why?
we all came from a pinpoint in evolution
in clusters we migrated
to the corners of the globe
seeking multi-verses of origin
yet we create hierarchies of skintone. why?
the gaps in our thinking
are like holes in a doughnut
spiraling galaxies of hate
into whirlpools of ignorance.why?
cast into the seed core
is a colorless quantum of choice
the difference -your destiny. think.
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, a month ago
Nov 6, 2014
Nov 6, 2014 at 2:07 PM UTC
I closed my eyes today to meditate
And of course the flow began
That endless stream of words
But this time is was of a different kind
It was a strong rush rush of forgotten words that loomed over me
And whilst still breathing
I started sweating
For it was the scent of an old world
Those words
Of rigidity and rust; rules and atrophy
Layers and layers of shame
A world so deeply rooted; tied with a thick rope
To the words that built it
I tried to get the flow of words to halter
So as to not evoke the emotions stitched into those idioms
Flooding into consciousness
I've spent years toiling
To create a universe sprouted from new words
So what could this be but an utter attack on my new reality
But they become an outpour, the words
This sort of multi-sensory experience…
and I'm fixed to them with glue
To the fiery words like
Tznuis, Bas Melech, Shidduchim
That I'd heard all too many times
Because I'm only a women
The rabbis would tell me
And my hands were meant for baking bread
My ******* for giving milk
Never really mine at all
And also the Tume, Trief, Off the Derech, Goyim
Words that rang into my ears constantly
Maybe because they were always said, or maybe because
These were words I couldn’t close my ears off to hearing
But I hear them again now even louder
Painting a purity and an impurity
An us and a them
A superiority and racism
Endless hierarchies
But then the good words began to flood my mind
The Zmiros, Little Tzadikel, Kinderlech
Words that built the sounds of my family singing
The Love and shelter
Joyous togetherness
The simple Simplicity
The words that know for real
Mashiach will come
Then there were the greetings
The Good Yontifs, Gut Vach's
Because who are we but one large social unit
Bound by the words we share
And the Boruch Hashem's, Kneina Hara's
Secured that the bad things don’t get too bad
And the good things don’t ruin themselves
The flow of words continued
Like a tragic comedy
A bad and a good
And a nothing and a everything
The grief of a lost innocence; the shadow of brick walls
But I remembered that joy of breathing deep into my uncaged lungs
Accessing a fresh new whiff of clean air
For I have built a world of new words
A new vocabulary
of Words like Mind, Body, Spirit
****** freedom
Intersectionality, Sustainability
Kindred Souls
Unity
Compassion
Holding the Space
But what to do when the flow of an old world
Built so powerfully by its words
Strikes at me suddenly
Unexpected
And all the new words I've forged don’t seem to matter
At all
Jul 23, 2020
Jul 23, 2020 at 8:48 PM UTC
Twelve billion years, I’m still here
Existing beyond the void of love and fear
Where nowhere becomes somewhere
And emptiness becomes me
Bound by the hierarchies
And called of spirit to be free
Subjectively pursuing the objective life’s best
My soul ever fighting this simple-minded quest
Still I proceed and the vanity never ends
As fast as I can put it down, I pick it up again
A god that ascends or a god that descends
It makes me no never mind
I probably worshipped one or the other
In a better vanished time
Time in a moment disintegrates
Love like a molecule evaporates
Thoughts are like clouds passing over real loud
On into this world they penetrate
Solutions with new problems that complicate
Blinded by neuroses my desires run wild
I turn over control to my inner lost child
Developmental damage on the ladder of my soul
Pretending not to notice my issues become my foes
Twelve billion years, somehow I’m still here
Mar 1, 2018
Mar 1, 2018 at 8:50 AM UTC
He is held captive you needn’t farther search
In temple’s precincts within the walls of church
God is a prisoner in religion’s domain
They flock there to worship him men and women.
As I see them I get this impression
They’ve struck a deal forged a relation
One that is need based apparently mutual
God provides care in exchange of ritual.
At the cost of sounding atheist I must say I notice
Churches and temples are organized like office
Hierarchies are set in these god’s abodes
Complete with rules regulations and codes.
In each of these god-houses is a god’s messenger
He is the supreme priest faith’s treasurer
He leads your prayer cleanses your soul
Becomes god’s face assumes the divine’s role.
The followers don’t question their faith inhibited
Asking and probing questions are strictly prohibited
I feel places of worship are too stern and rigid
Where in the hands of his caretakers god goes frigid!
Aug 20, 2013
Aug 20, 2013 at 10:55 AM UTC
Twelve billion years, I’m still here
Existing beyond the void of love and fear
Where nowhere becomes somewhere
And emptiness becomes me
Bound by the hierarchies
And called of spirit to be free
Subjectively pursuing the objective life’s best
My soul ever fighting this simple-minded quest
Still I proceed and the vanity never ends
As fast as I can put it down, I pick it up again
A god that ascends or a god that descends
It makes me no never mind
I probably worshipped one or the other
In a better vanished time
Time in a moment disintegrates
Love like a molecule evaporates
Thoughts are like clouds passing over real loud
On into this world they penetrate
Solutions with new problems that complicate
Blinded by neuroses my desires run wild
I turn over control to my inner lost child
Developmental damage on the ladder of my soul
Pretending not to notice my issues become my foes
Twelve billion years, somehow I’m still here
Aug 22, 2014
Aug 22, 2014 at 7:57 AM UTC
Hustle and bustle of underground merry plaza showcase, the underbelly, the underlife, the true essence of the show going on at 8, men speaking rhythmically, eating quickly, with waste boxes, recyclables, the news is digestible, a man forages for answers in his phone, digging with his thumbs, and another reaches through the speaker to try to hear the close, the head anchored up, the scarf hanging at the direction towards the sun, oh the glamorous walls and the anxious souls, oh the marble staircase and the jansport backpack, more cleaning services than surfaces, less times more money, more money, less time, time is like money, it freezes and then it flows, what was the expression again? Only the smell of coffee is lucrative, only the stench of ***** diapers, babies, in a place like this, where murmers are murmurs and eat isn't required but fufilled then joked about over digestion, a proper coffee break, he is of an ash tray the men gossip, not directly, but imply, stick to facts but hierarchies fill in like water into a ravine, never obscene, silent struggles to an invisible top held by Rockefeller who is no longer in this world, his spirit keeps some sort of hope driving noses into the pizza lunches, and the limitless contemplaions, the tough desicions, men around coffee are women amidst vultures, who has a higher grasp, whose the one getting cursed, overdone, overpowered, the cards turning in silence, literally in glances, a polite face turns to a disappointed hatred in seconds, perfect, like a diamond
Aug 20, 2015
Aug 20, 2015 at 1:38 AM UTC
Let's not talk about our ethnicity.
Let's,for a while, we don't see our races.
Let's not,for some individual's fault, blame the whole community.
Let's not judge someone just by looking at their faces.
Let's not isolate someone just beacuse he prays some other God.
Let's not detach those strings just because he's not one of you.
Let's not, by seeing someone's clothes, feel odd.
Let's just peep into those inner feelings which are always true.
Let's not create hierarchies in caste & treat everyone equally.
Let's not differentiate any man or woman.
Let's not think ourselves superior & become bully.
And
Let's, just for once, we all become human.
Jun 3, 2018
Jun 3, 2018 at 12:20 AM UTC
Fear not humanity
For I know you're out there
In the midst
Of this fanatical continuum
Anchored by compassion
Hearts still able to grieve
The ones who know
Without a doubt
Their leaders do deceive
The tears that fall
For the fallen souls
The dreamers of peace
The Devil's Foes
Hear me now
My fellow human
Break down these walls
These institutions of soul
Take charge and guard
The Hierarchies of reason
Embrace Humanity
And refuse to let go...
Mar 26, 2016
Mar 26, 2016 at 8:52 AM UTC