"humanists" poems - Hello Poetry

Alexander K Opicho (Eldoret, Kenya;[email protected]) But I remain a believer in my ancestral religion Whose God is wele but not the Germany world, it is a religion, Like most of universal ancestral ones, With appalling moral threshold, When Elijah Masinde of dini ya Misambwa Despised those who condemned man as notoriously religious He meant human religious approach to life is absolute in nature However diverse religions compete for human ears Rich ones glorified in the luring away of modal ears But all are devoid of spiritual impetus Disappointing the progenitors of religious imperialism These short-cutters in matters of sanctimony Will not come to our heaven They will get me sharing a cup of tea With my sister- in-law; Mary, the mother of Jesus And I will shun them, I will not know them I will not invite them to a heavenly cup of tea They will be suffocated by cadaverous appetite, For we honor our religion with ancestral regard; The Faith of Our Ancestors But in ridicule they call us kaffirs, pagans, christo-pagans, Animists, atheists, gentiles, non-believers, mediumists, Rebellious rebels or whatsoever they call us; The anti-muhamedan-mis-christologists, Let them delude themselves, If they disparage us with sick contumely Abreast the dumbfounding development in sciences Plus so fortuitous humanistic awareness, Humanity in Religion has to adjust optimally Religious masters have to help Interpret the religious Books, bible, gita, quran All Written or verbalistically in the glory of epical orality In tandem with the best centered Life extant, Otherwise selfish religions becomes an old wine bag With its old and stale wine, You will persuade Russian carousers to drink But to your chagrin, none will condone, your stale wine Do not seek to sell your faith Because every human community Has an ancestral faith Respect them all for that is gods in their accolade of Omonipresecence, Any man or woman without religion is dangerous But do not advantagize yourselves At the expense of people of other faiths It is good you reciprocated Planet earth is our only sure and known abode If we lived well here, and there is another world For those who will be good, we hope the conclave of Gods Would all sit in judgment for their credit And reward those who helped humble humanity Of their religions as well as those of other religions As for all the Gods love humanists.

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Dec 17, 2013

Dec 17, 2013 at 10:17 AM UTC

alexander-k-opicho

Echoing Taban Makitiyong Reneket Lo Liyong

Alexander K Opicho (Eldoret, Kenya;[email protected]) But I remain a believer in my ancestral religion Whose God is wele but not the Germany world, it is a religion, Like most of universal ancestral ones, With appalling moral threshold, When Elijah Masinde of dini ya Misambwa Despised those who condemned man as notoriously religious He meant human religious approach to life is absolute in nature However diverse religions compete for human ears Rich ones glorified in the luring away of modal ears But all are devoid of spiritual impetus Disappointing the progenitors of religious imperialism These short-cutters in matters of sanctimony Will not come to our heaven They will get me sharing a cup of tea With my sister- in-law; Mary, the mother of Jesus And I will shun them, I will not know them I will not invite them to a heavenly cup of tea They will be suffocated by cadaverous appetite, For we honor our religion with ancestral regard; The Faith of Our Ancestors But in ridicule they call us kaffirs, pagans, christo-pagans, Animists, atheists, gentiles, non-believers, mediumists, Rebellious rebels or whatsoever they call us; The anti-muhamedan-mis-christologists, Let them delude themselves, If they disparage us with sick contumely Abreast the dumbfounding development in sciences Plus so fortuitous humanistic awareness, Humanity in Religion has to adjust optimally Religious masters have to help Interpret the religious Books, bible, gita, quran All Written or verbalistically in the glory of epical orality In tandem with the best centered Life extant, Otherwise selfish religions becomes an old wine bag With its old and stale wine, You will persuade Russian carousers to drink But to your chagrin, none will condone, your stale wine Do not seek to sell your faith Because every human community Has an ancestral faith Respect them all for that is gods in their accolade of Omonipresecence, Any man or woman without religion is dangerous But do not advantagize yourselves At the expense of people of other faiths It is good you reciprocated Planet earth is our only sure and known abode If we lived well here, and there is another world For those who will be good, we hope the conclave of Gods Would all sit in judgment for their credit And reward those who helped humble humanity Of their religions as well as those of other religions As for all the Gods love humanists.

56

Born of a binary, black/white, white/ black. Cultured by silence, a blank slate, but no more tears. Time isn't real. They speak, they say, tell me there's nothing wrong with me; standing in the kitchen with my grandmother telling me there is nothing DIFFERENT about you. Strive to conform. Sameness is a casualty. **I DON'T GIVE A **** about conservatives . "Humanists" avoiding their toxic misogynistic tendencies, old friends enlisted voluntarily perpetuating a system of violence and suffering, others are bluffing, don't say **** walk eggshells, I must be a tiger loose from the cage, and they're waiting to see who becomes the canary in my coal mine. Rhyming by incident, but I hate this **** & I'm not all right. Women can participate in their own oppression, minorities can be racist, we're all raised in a ditch; Patriarchy, capitalism, class values, botched messages, "color blindness", etc. etc. etc. **** everyone, and don't treat me like I'm better or I should know better, or I have to be "perfect" if I want to be "different". Raised in a ditch. Cultured by racism and depression. I think of suicide like a novelty until I don't . . . Everything turns grey and reads like sloganeering. Waiting for the past to manifest as a trauma. Waiting for the past to make sense. Waiting.

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Jun 12, 2014

Jun 12, 2014 at 11:44 AM UTC

austin-heath

"Raised in a Ditch."

Born of a binary, black/white, white/ black. Cultured by silence, a blank slate, but no more tears. Time isn't real. They speak, they say, tell me there's nothing wrong with me; standing in the kitchen with my grandmother telling me there is nothing DIFFERENT about you. Strive to conform. Sameness is a casualty. **I DON'T GIVE A **** about conservatives . "Humanists" avoiding their toxic misogynistic tendencies, old friends enlisted voluntarily perpetuating a system of violence and suffering, others are bluffing, don't say **** walk eggshells, I must be a tiger loose from the cage, and they're waiting to see who becomes the canary in my coal mine. Rhyming by incident, but I hate this **** & I'm not all right. Women can participate in their own oppression, minorities can be racist, we're all raised in a ditch; Patriarchy, capitalism, class values, botched messages, "color blindness", etc. etc. etc. **** everyone, and don't treat me like I'm better or I should know better, or I have to be "perfect" if I want to be "different". Raised in a ditch. Cultured by racism and depression. I think of suicide like a novelty until I don't . . . Everything turns grey and reads like sloganeering. Waiting for the past to manifest as a trauma. Waiting for the past to make sense. Waiting.

48

You're still the first name I think of when I scan my thoughts scouring for a thought; when I need a thought to drift myself to sleep to I want to view you as innocence and I did for a long time and I tried to take your reticence as a sign of neutrality, not belligerence or a sense of mocking How silly was I, to assume that 5 whole months that you refrained from the topic of me was neutral That you were just moving on, but not on purpose But oh my, you've become more belligerent than I ever expected a little girl with a shrunken ego to be and my, I didn't think you could say those things about me. But you did. But, entropy is apt to only consume us; yet, the scatteredness of our atoms cannot explain why you chose to tell me that I am not right in life You've defended yourself by projecting yourself onto me and my making me the scapegoat so you can pick up some girl that you don't have to ***** to **** And I guess that humanists and I are wrong because well People ******* ****

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Feb 25, 2014

Feb 25, 2014 at 11:01 PM UTC

hedonic-nihilist

Humanistic

You're still the first name I think of when I scan my thoughts scouring for a thought; when I need a thought to drift myself to sleep to I want to view you as innocence and I did for a long time and I tried to take your reticence as a sign of neutrality, not belligerence or a sense of mocking How silly was I, to assume that 5 whole months that you refrained from the topic of me was neutral That you were just moving on, but not on purpose But oh my, you've become more belligerent than I ever expected a little girl with a shrunken ego to be and my, I didn't think you could say those things about me. But you did. But, entropy is apt to only consume us; yet, the scatteredness of our atoms cannot explain why you chose to tell me that I am not right in life You've defended yourself by projecting yourself onto me and my making me the scapegoat so you can pick up some girl that you don't have to ***** to **** And I guess that humanists and I are wrong because well People ******* ****

9

Held in the highest esteem but inept in equality Unprecedented equality she can never guarantee. Yet she is dimmed perfect. Imperfect is aiding the poor at the expense of the bourgeoisie Yet vice versa of this infamy is dimmed rational. Rationally speaking, we all can't be rich. Thus why there would always be tiers. With the upper tier benefiting at the expense of the proletariat Yet the humanists are seen as rivals And stigmatized via false credence. These men, rooted in selflessness are considered dangerous. With their movement colloquially synonymous with political abhorrence As long as we all can't be rich. Pursuit for Capita is as futile a venture as underwater basket weaving.

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Jul 11, 2015

Jul 11, 2015 at 4:15 PM UTC

apore-che

Capita

Held in the highest esteem but inept in equality Unprecedented equality she can never guarantee. Yet she is dimmed perfect. Imperfect is aiding the poor at the expense of the bourgeoisie Yet vice versa of this infamy is dimmed rational. Rationally speaking, we all can't be rich. Thus why there would always be tiers. With the upper tier benefiting at the expense of the proletariat Yet the humanists are seen as rivals And stigmatized via false credence. These men, rooted in selflessness are considered dangerous. With their movement colloquially synonymous with political abhorrence As long as we all can't be rich. Pursuit for Capita is as futile a venture as underwater basket weaving.

14

Now that I reflect, I do like tea, Though time's no matter I ever drink it, Thirstily: Sip it to the dregs And then having better understanding, Sip those dregs too. Eagerly from the mug, so deep, true. Potent history from bag to cup And too from hand to hand, word to ear, Man to men, man to woman to women. In this tea I taste it all, The bitterest human emotions: the lowest shames, Written in confession or guilt or pride, Debauched or glorified- fixation. Slowly the taste changes, And change itself is the sweetest movement, On my tongue, night, noon or morning. The swirls, which in a cube would be turns, Phrases, cuts or corners, if not for their nature. British, such a short word for so voiced, so cultivated a culture. Humanity, so innocuous a term for our mongrel selves; History must have been kept by humanists, Else too much revised by euphemists. Or, I have learned too far and too distanced Events taught by puritans, in their land, their way. How violently they subdue us here! And that is why I do not like our local tea. No, Give me the thrill of British history.

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Oct 3, 2010

Oct 3, 2010 at 8:37 PM UTC

christian-que

Thinking in English

Now that I reflect, I do like tea, Though time's no matter I ever drink it, Thirstily: Sip it to the dregs And then having better understanding, Sip those dregs too. Eagerly from the mug, so deep, true. Potent history from bag to cup And too from hand to hand, word to ear, Man to men, man to woman to women. In this tea I taste it all, The bitterest human emotions: the lowest shames, Written in confession or guilt or pride, Debauched or glorified- fixation. Slowly the taste changes, And change itself is the sweetest movement, On my tongue, night, noon or morning. The swirls, which in a cube would be turns, Phrases, cuts or corners, if not for their nature. British, such a short word for so voiced, so cultivated a culture. Humanity, so innocuous a term for our mongrel selves; History must have been kept by humanists, Else too much revised by euphemists. Or, I have learned too far and too distanced Events taught by puritans, in their land, their way. How violently they subdue us here! And that is why I do not like our local tea. No, Give me the thrill of British history.

29