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Larry Potter Sep 2013
Earth is a pretty
Messed up equation
Of quite hastily
Made up solution.

We are but numbers
Of different values
Every sign matters
In this set of issues.

Many were born real
Physiques built evenly
Few quite look odd and
Imaginary.

Some are but factors
Serving evil's loots
Denominators
Of ungodly roots.

There are radicals
Who've got point of view
So are rationals
To speak a word or two.

We're discriminant
To other religions
Differential rant
To other opinions.

Can't we simplify
This complex squirm
And instead unify
To a common term?

We're just variables
Merely dependent
On the valuables
Of our environment.

We were given one
To be shared by all
Equality's gone
And this is our call.
jjcsm Apr 2012
The cat, black as midnight, perfect in from and feature, lay before an open hearth,
     as though resting, in death, trussed, like a roe deer carried home from the hunt, legs lace.

Cat lay, having ceased her struggles, staring at the fire, as though contemplating her
     eight lives, stoic, perhaps merely exhausted, resigned, retaining dignity in the certain death's face.

The Queen found this way to amuse herself, withe the men away playing at wars,
     a charm for invisibility, she, too empty to take any great art seriously, even the Black grace.

Queen Morgause knew that magic ran in her blood, as a member of the Old Race.

Into the cauldron of boiling water, at the hearth, the Queen flung cat, then stood watch,
     the horrible convulsions and a single dreadful cry as cat quickly passed into death, on the boil.

Queen Morgause of Lothian and Orkney sat before her cauldron and waited,
     occasionally she stirred to poke the cat with her wooden spoon as the stench did uncoil.

A watcher in the night would have seen, in the flattering reddish glow of the peat fire,
     what an exquisite creature she was tonight, with her deep, big eyes, glistening hair, quite royal.

She practiced her magic, before the iron cauldron, with the candle and a sheet of polished brass,
     not so much as for a need of invisibility, more an excuse for standing long before her mirror loyal,

Queen Morgause knew that was the undisputed beauty of her era Medieval.

The cat had come to pieces, leaving only a deep **** of hair and grease and gobbets, the white bones
     eddied in the broth, heavier ones lying still, the others lifting gracefully, like leaves in an autumn blown.

The Queen, wrinkling her nose to the stench, strained the liquid into a second ***, leaving
     on the flannel strainer, a sodden mass of matted hair and meat shreds and delicate white bone.

She blew on the sediment and began turning it over with her wooden spoon, prodding them
     to let heat out, soon she was able to pick out the delicate bones and place them in a neat pile grown.

The Queen knew that every pure black cat had a certain bone, which, when held in the mouth after
     boiling the live cat, endowed invisibility, but nobody knew which bone, hence the need of the mirror shone,

The Queen sought not indivisibility, truly, as she felt herself to be far too beautiful to disappear.

The Queen scraped the remains of her cat into two heaps, one of bone and one of steaming meat
     daintily she took one bone between her teeth, stood before her brass, looking at herself in sleepy pleasure.

She threw the bone into the fire and fetched another, standing, turning, and reaching,
     placing the bone in her mouth and looking to see if she had vanished, a look in one long measure.

She moved so gracefully, as if a dancer, pacing out her patterned steps, most beauteously,
     she moved as if someone was there to watch her, or, rather, as if it were her reflection she did treasure.

Queen Morgause lost interest, before testing all the bones, and stretched herself, as a cat, before the fire at leisure.
Fred Kinard Jul 2013
Imagine alchemist and doctors brought life to mannequins
Question: will we pay them for wearing fashionable trends
Or will they forever be enslaved from beginning to end?
I speak on this because history shows the unfairness of men.
I speak on this because hatred still exist like sin.

Be free mannequin
Be free

What will be the social contract for new life that appear aware
Remember ...
Great Cesar's ghost/ Rise of the planet of the apes -escapes.
Cesar got lock up and spoke signs with an orangutang/ the long arm ape. That was pure sci fi at its best, I mention that movie because  I can see the first mannequin arrest.
News at 10:00
Mannequins protest.
Be free mannequin
Be free

Who was meant to be here
You!?
How about you?
Social structure brings forth /false indivisibility.

Segregation because of plastic skin

Sophism due to those who can't see pass what's within.
G. O. D.
The Great One Deity
We're all just fiends waiting for your Soliloquy
So be quiet friends, because you're forever ubiquity
You're invisible, but your value is indivisibility
Perfect, because the wait for redemption is worth it
Regret, Is something I foreshadow and detect
Arts is still out there, that's not something you neglect
Be all about good vibes but you still won't gain my respect

Perpetually, bad thoughts bang against my cell walls
Even the idea of the fallen one grabbing me with his claws
Pulling me closer as it screeches of my name, is what it calls
And I'm still in my cell playing with dead peoples voodoo dolls
Paralyzed by the sites that I've seen but I can't say
Bounded to the nightmares that haunt me and can't raze
Only still sane from the outsides light rays
Leaking through the cracks so I stay sitting here as I pray
You give us this day our daily bread,
Yet my faith in you is only hanging by a thread
Makes me feel like I need a cigarette.
Hopefully, I do see you when I'm dead.
Madison Brewer Oct 2014
Lying with my pride,
limber, even in my bulk,
mind mulling, trying to find
my looming, lingering
charge, the ascendency to
which I align.
How I might invoke
indivisibility
among my fellows,
my authority
marked by my
luminescent mane -
warm orange fur -
but also by my
curved claws,
my sharp teeth,
and my urge
to assert
them on any
novice challenger.

Men weaken easily at
sharp points
brazen at their throats;
unless their prey
made unfamiliar caged
and forfeit of assertion
awaits
unknowingly folding
to meet like opposite
corners of a
crumpled covenant.

But not me I should think
Out of the dust I slink
mane furrowed
and I crush hunters beneath the warmth that drew them in.
Babatunde Raimi Oct 2019
You said I have rights
You made us promises
You said we own the lands
But the minerals are yours
And you want peace
This you seek is possibly impossible

You said my people are your people
With your sweet savouring tongue
You preached unity and true federalism
I believed without a doubt
Yet, my people are impoverished
But today I say, not anymore

I see Armies rising
They are sold out to a cause
One people, one mind, one voice
From age long oppressions they will liberate their people
Even if it is their last assignment
That's why I see fresh air coming
It is closer than you think

But you have a choice
Restructure now or suture tomorrow
If it is our land, it is our resources
Not yours and your cabals
Before the rain comes thunder
You have been advised

Let the town crier sound the gong
Gather all the villagers
Let your strong men volunteer
Let the women sing
Let the children watch and learn
As we "Balm" these ones for exploits

It is better to live for something
Than to die for nothing
Even if you fail, they will remember you
And forever Crest your name in their hearts
With your picture on their wall
You will be their greatest inspiration...

This could cost our life
Is this really a part we want to thread?
We really don't want  bloodshed
Let us come back to the table
Shake this table that it breaks
Then restructure, to secure our future

We believe in our indivisibility
We can turn our waste to wealth
Covert our diversity to opportunities
Turn our population to  blessings and not curses
But then, collectively, we say "No" to oppression and violence
However, the choice is yours...

— The End —