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"latinos" poems
Trump's next speech - - **We the people, aside of me believe in order to convince a perfect union only the rich deserve to survive, will give each and every citizen fifty bucks if they don't let Latinos in**
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Jun 30, 2015
Jun 30, 2015 at 8:13 AM UTC
Preposterous Politics
Listen here listen here The world is so **** ******* Maybe all these terrible things are happening because it’s trying to be renewed Our president is so whack He keeps stabbing innocents in the back Praising Arnold Schwarzenegger by acting as if he’s the terminator Pero his wife’s an immigrant too American dream who We pretend to honor the OG’s who created this land But now your trying to get them all banned claiming them all to be rapists and murderers Be humble sit down i'm tired of all these racial slurs He says “We cannot aid Puerto rico forever” But really we need to be working on this together Puerto Rico is just a metaphor for how this president sees all Latinos and people of color He does not see us as his equals, nor does he sees us as his fellows Having the mindset being male and white Is the only possibility of being right Were all humans , we all fit in the same race. We should not be considered by the color of our face Yet somehow the white get all the praise Why are we still stuck in this racist faze Since 1963 when Martin Luther King said in his speech “It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of their captivity. But 100 years later the ***** still is not free” To this day even if they try not to say The ***** is still treated so falsely. Take a moment now to open up your eyes and stop all the self lies Get rid that hate to open up the gate to a whole new perspective A much more un discriminative kind Then maybe just maybe the world wouldn’t be so **** *******
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Feb 12, 2018
Feb 12, 2018 at 10:02 AM UTC
The World
Listen here listen here The world is so **** ******* Maybe all these terrible things are happening because it’s trying to be renewed Our president is so whack He keeps stabbing innocents in the back Praising Arnold Schwarzenegger by acting as if he’s the terminator Pero his wife’s an immigrant too American dream who We pretend to honor the OG’s who created this land But now your trying to get them all banned claiming them all to be rapists and murderers Be humble sit down i'm tired of all these racial slurs He says “We cannot aid Puerto rico forever” But really we need to be working on this together Puerto Rico is just a metaphor for how this president sees all Latinos and people of color He does not see us as his equals, nor does he sees us as his fellows Having the mindset being male and white Is the only possibility of being right Were all humans , we all fit in the same race. We should not be considered by the color of our face Yet somehow the white get all the praise Why are we still stuck in this racist faze Since 1963 when Martin Luther King said in his speech “It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of their captivity. But 100 years later the ***** still is not free” To this day even if they try not to say The ***** is still treated so falsely. Take a moment now to open up your eyes and stop all the self lies Get rid that hate to open up the gate to a whole new perspective A much more un discriminative kind Then maybe just maybe the world wouldn’t be so **** *******
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Que lenguaje mas hermoso el que produce palabras de alegria como es el te amo, te quiero y te adoro. Dicen que los latinos somos ruidosos, llenos de energia y poca cordura, pero es que no entienden que el español no tiene limites, no tiene volumen, solo frescura. Grita tus palabras indigenas, huracan, coqui, fotuto, Boricua, esas palabras tainas tan bellas que usamos cada dia. Porque tienes miedo cuando te sale el "Spanglish" si los gringos no pueden pronunciar ni "Porto Wico" asi que curate con un  "bad english" porque nunca tendras que procuparte por decir RRRRico como un chino. Mi lenguaje no puede morir porque dentro de sus palabras estan las llamas de un Neruda, la negrura de un Llorens, la fortaleza de un Albizu. Oh cuanto te amo, te quiero, te adoro Puerto Rico por enseñarme el español que uso para enamorar a tus hermosas mujeres. Oh cuanto te amo, te quiero, te adoro Puerto Rico por eseñarme el español que uso para luchar contra los que ya no te quieren.
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Jan 29, 2012
Jan 29, 2012 at 11:23 PM UTC
Mi Lenguaje No Puede Morir
There were no blacks In our part of town No Asians, no Latinos None of them around. There were Italians, They were treated well. But anyone of color Might run into hell. Pastel America Everything sort of beige. It’s good to be pink in America. Caucasian is all the rage. Whenever movies showed A crowd of good folk They were all Caucasian And this is not a joke. I was raised on TV shows Like Lassie and ****** And there were no blacks Living near the Cleavers. There was no understanding Of life for any non-whites. When I grew up I saw That little I learned was right. Pastel America Everything sort of beige. It’s good to be pink in America. Caucasian is all the rage. Whenever movies showed A crowd of good folk They were all Caucasian And this is not a joke. There were radio stations then Where black music could not play. They had to get around that Some other sneaky way. That’s how we got Elvis, To fill that gaping lack. He got his first opportunity Because he sounded black. Pastel America Everything sort of beige. It’s good to be pink in America. Caucasian is all the rage. Maybe it will change someday When we all celebrate The diversity of humanity. Wouldn’t that be great?
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Jun 3, 2016
Jun 3, 2016 at 10:55 PM UTC
PASTEL AMERICA
When I hear FEMINISM, RACISM, SEXISM, IMMIGRATION or the TORTURE OF A NATION, my mind cries and my eyes go blank. Children ****** waving to their teacher Their teacher waving back A grenade is launched and chunks of her pained memory soar through the windows of the bus. War just won't stop. In the Internet, White-washed Latinos diss their mother's birth throw stones at their father's graves. Praise Uncle Sam Although Caucasians are abusing them because of their skin pigmentation Oh great U.S.A. Who incarcerated Madiba and murdered MLK. Killed more humans than Adolf and now want to buy them. With a small piece of useless land in New Mexico and Kentucky Fried Chicken. You PATHETIC CHICKEN who wants to own the world even though you haven't been here one stinkin millennium. A decade of power and now you patrol the streets. please You can't even patrol your own streets please
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Dec 17, 2013
Dec 17, 2013 at 11:21 AM UTC
YOU CANT EVEN PATROL YOUR OWN STREETS
We can not thrive divided but must stand together a nation united Not Pagans Not Christians Not Jews Not Muslims Americans Not Arabs Not Persians Not whites Not blacks Not Latinos Not Indians Not Asians Americans Stand together my brothers Stand for freedom my sister's Stand for love Stand for light Brighten the night And realize We are one We are all We are life We are America.
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Jun 13, 2016
Jun 13, 2016 at 4:33 PM UTC
Together We Stand (Divided We Fall)
white hands are magnetically attracted to my tresses the way they bounce when i'm running to the bus stop how it curls from the top to the bottom. when i tell people what i am they nod and say, "no wonder you have that hair." i wake up in the morning conscious of my existence the whiteness of my father's father is not present in my skin but it is there in the way i talk on the phone, "ain't" and "finna" tucked neatly into the corners of my teeth. when my boss sees me for the first time in person, they will part their mouth slightly and say, "you're so unique." the latinos at school are lighter than me their hair is straighter than mine and their spanish is much more polished. when they heard my first grammar mistake they frowned and said, "oh great, another ******* coconut." i will die an oxymoron, a paradox a cultural clusterfuck who doesn't know what a border is. i will die undefined, unknown, as a variable in a math problem written by the hands of a white man who thought everything could be solved if it was done his way.
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May 21, 2017
May 21, 2017 at 11:36 AM UTC
the value of x
President Trump. We aware that wall you speak of with never happen. Who gonna build it? Your supporters. When you look around at the sidewalks, hotel maid services and other forms of low level paying. A majority of them are done by the Latinos. Like many that picks the fruits. And a great majority of employers are your race. And when during business with businesses. America's works off a competitive nature. And that MEANS working with other nations. Making America great sounds good to fools. But than again, once wars kills many of their kids than your supporters will turn too. They always do. President Trump, first and foremost you must address yourself. If know nothing about office the oval office. Than will you fire yourself? Cause i'm asking myself. Is this real or imagine?
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Apr 20, 2016
Apr 20, 2016 at 8:10 AM UTC
President Trump (Real or Imagine)
We, the humans. Born like pieces of plain paper. To live is to paint. Every single step adds different colors.      The Black. Rich like the soil on the earth. The beauty of colourful cultures.    The White. Clean like the snow in the winter. The beauty of pure winter wonderland.    The Latinos. Sweet like the chocolate in your mouth. The beauty of black and white.    The Asians. Deep like the book in your hands. The beauty of ancient wisdom.    The Natives. Pure like the earth under your feet. The beauty of nature as it is.    If white is added to cover all colors, Everything will be white washed. If there is only white in this world, There will be no other colors on the earth.      We, the humans. We are one species on the earth. We all bleed. Red inside.
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Apr 29, 2018
Apr 29, 2018 at 11:43 AM UTC
Red Inside
Just imagine? If legal segregation came back in modern time? Or placed on the legislature? Just think of the uproar? If that race in love with guns now? They would be extremely in love with them more. It just wouldn't go over. This group that treated like second class by some. Would put that group in place? They have to face facts? Just like the protest of Black Live Matters? Where? We see many refusing to acknowledge their truth that minorities quick to get killed by officers appearing like Bull Connor squad. And just like logic offered about slaves seeking their freedom. You find that race giving oddest reasons for in place segregation. We aware that many hard workers in society? Never been many executives with the suits? And we can paint a picture of this various group. Segregation, never served an honest purpose? Just for intimidation fear. And now that one group facing the blunt reality of life. They speak of their rage and stupidity that many minorities surpassing them. We see this with many politicians seeking votes? They know when to manipulate this group simply for votes. It's not the Latinos taking their jobs? Or anything any African Americans have done. It just they trying to rule once more. And finding many less fortunate races not going. So legal segregation just their dream.
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Jun 24, 2019
Jun 24, 2019 at 4:08 PM UTC
If Legal Segregation Came Back
¿Qué signo haces, oh Cisne, con tu encorvado cuello al paso de los tristes y errantes soñadores? ¿Por qué tan silencioso de ser blanco y ser bello, tiránico a las aguas e impasible a las flores?Yo te saludo ahora como en versos latinos te saludara antaño Publio Ovidio Nasón. Los mismos ruiseñores cantan los mismos trinos, y en diferentes lenguas es la misma canción.A vosotros mi lengua no debe ser extraña. A Garcilaso visteis, acaso, alguna vez... Soy un hijo de América, soy un nieto de España... Quevedo pudo hablaros en verso en Aranjuez...Cisnes, los abanicos de vuestras alas frescas den a las frentes pálidas sus caricias más puras y alejen vuestras blancas figuras pintorescas de nuestras mentes tristes las ideas oscuras.Brumas septentrionales nos llenan de tristezas, se mueren nuestras rosas, se agotan nuestras palmas, casi no hay ilusiones para nuestras cabezas, y somos los mendigos de nuestras pobres almas.Nos predican la guerra con águilas feroces, gerifaltes de antaño revienen a los puños, mas no brillan las glorias de las antiguas hoces, ni hay Rodrigos ni Jaimes, ni hay Alfonsos ni Nuños.Faltos del alimento que dan las grandes cosas, ¿qué haremos los poetas sino buscar tus lagos? A falta de laureles son muy dulces las rosas, y a falta de victorias busquemos los halagos.La América española como la España entera fija está en el Oriente de su fatal destino; yo interrogo a la Esfinge que el porvenir espera con la interrogación de tu cuello divino.¿Seremos entregados a los bárbaros fieros? ¿Tantos millones de hombres hablaremos inglés? ¿Ya no hay nobles hidalgos ni bravos caballeros? ¿Callaremos ahora para llorar después?He lanzado mi grito, Cisnes, entre vosotros que habéis sido los fieles en la desilusión, mientras siento una fuga de americanos potros y el estertor postrero de un caduco león......Y un cisne ***** dijo: «La noche anuncia el día». Y uno blanco: «¡La aurora es inmortal! ¡La aurora es inmortal!» ¡Oh tierras de sol y de armonía, aún guarda la Esperanza la caja de Pandora!
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Los cisnes
¿Qué signo haces, oh Cisne, con tu encorvado cuello al paso de los tristes y errantes soñadores? ¿Por qué tan silencioso de ser blanco y ser bello, tiránico a las aguas e impasible a las flores?Yo te saludo ahora como en versos latinos te saludara antaño Publio Ovidio Nasón. Los mismos ruiseñores cantan los mismos trinos, y en diferentes lenguas es la misma canción.A vosotros mi lengua no debe ser extraña. A Garcilaso visteis, acaso, alguna vez... Soy un hijo de América, soy un nieto de España... Quevedo pudo hablaros en verso en Aranjuez...Cisnes, los abanicos de vuestras alas frescas den a las frentes pálidas sus caricias más puras y alejen vuestras blancas figuras pintorescas de nuestras mentes tristes las ideas oscuras.Brumas septentrionales nos llenan de tristezas, se mueren nuestras rosas, se agotan nuestras palmas, casi no hay ilusiones para nuestras cabezas, y somos los mendigos de nuestras pobres almas.Nos predican la guerra con águilas feroces, gerifaltes de antaño revienen a los puños, mas no brillan las glorias de las antiguas hoces, ni hay Rodrigos ni Jaimes, ni hay Alfonsos ni Nuños.Faltos del alimento que dan las grandes cosas, ¿qué haremos los poetas sino buscar tus lagos? A falta de laureles son muy dulces las rosas, y a falta de victorias busquemos los halagos.La América española como la España entera fija está en el Oriente de su fatal destino; yo interrogo a la Esfinge que el porvenir espera con la interrogación de tu cuello divino.¿Seremos entregados a los bárbaros fieros? ¿Tantos millones de hombres hablaremos inglés? ¿Ya no hay nobles hidalgos ni bravos caballeros? ¿Callaremos ahora para llorar después?He lanzado mi grito, Cisnes, entre vosotros que habéis sido los fieles en la desilusión, mientras siento una fuga de americanos potros y el estertor postrero de un caduco león......Y un cisne ***** dijo: «La noche anuncia el día». Y uno blanco: «¡La aurora es inmortal! ¡La aurora es inmortal!» ¡Oh tierras de sol y de armonía, aún guarda la Esperanza la caja de Pandora!
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Under white bulbs Dr. Black studies me through the glass. I will be figure A on page three, and how I purchase jazz CDs will be section II, which will have footnotes on 21st century Latinos in White suburbia, the economic decisions of lost boys, references to Dr. Earnst’s Entitlements of the Capuchin, and droll digressions on such and such and such— dear Erwin musing on the thirteen times we happened upon each other in life, the most embarrassing being when I wore a pig mask to what I thought was a masquerade but which ended up being my own funeral. One day we’ll vaguely recall the white sky on the morning we met through an imaginary friend, a girl who we forgot to name. Does it matter, if it never really happened? I just remember when you were a child you looked through the glass for me, and when I wasn’t there you waited through the night.
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Jul 20, 2013
Jul 20, 2013 at 9:18 PM UTC
Meeting Erwin Black
We had our Jesse Helm. We had our George Wallace. We even have a Clive Bundy. Who reminds you of Bull Connor? They speak. And a few supporters support them. And their off center views. But they always fail to comprehend truth. Who profited the most off of slavery? Who gained the most off of segregation? Who reflect back to the days of their youth? When they wasn't treated harshly or cruel. But during the days of segregation came across as fools. Now that time is changing. And many can't adapt. They hold on too their racist ways. Even support from kiss up politicians of today. Who agree one minute? Then back off the next. When heat comes upon them from the news. Yes, who profited the most? Oh, they cry about Affirmative action. Which wouldn't have been created. If they only been fair. Many minorities remember the hurtful scares that still there. Many youth today support their elders hating upon them. For the turning on of the fire hydrants. And bombing churches. Yes, churches of all place. And the courts afraid to punish them. Yes, who profited the most from segregation? Who ran to far region of the city? And fighting to change things back to those golden days. Many minorities remember the black maid. A role many Latinos are assigned today. Many remember the black mothers raising the white child. Oh, its true. That the more things change. The more things stays the same way. That's one of the main reasons we still fighting bigotry today.
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Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 10:45 PM UTC
Who Profited The Most?
So you Republicans hate Blacks, Jews, Latinos, Asians, yet so many of you go to your churches on Sundays and pray to God. About what? About what Jesus preached? About how he said to love one another? Hardly! You may mouth these sacred messages, but do you live them? I think not. VOTER SUPPRESSION is equivalent to heresy. Republican politicians across our nation, under God, in over 40 States are bringing back RACISM in full force. Are you not repulsed by this immoral retrogression? WHY DO YOU NOT SPEAK OUT!? My only conclusion is that you are gutless. You are moral hypocrites. You are racists of the first order and human beings of the last. TOD HOWARD HAWKS
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Apr 7, 2021
Apr 7, 2021 at 12:49 PM UTC
THE RECRUDESCENCE OF THE NATIONAL SOCIALIST PARTY
It was humanity that was the mixed bag of jelly beans at summer camp that spilled out into the scorching sun restless for *** and sun-tans. All before they melted away into Kandinsky paintings pretending that happiness was something of a virtue. And while the paintings ignited into a righteous firestorm of white men in white robes with hope and faith, flying out the church doors and taking to the sky, morphing into airplanes to destroy the great peace in the form of two obelisks pointing to Allah. To the american hypocrisy that we drink like cough syrup to cure nothing. While pretending everything was alright. While dead men are worshiped more than a word of the past that is the future. Let us forget about innovation. Let us look back onto the great circles of cycles that we overturn on the great history of the 4th of July flagpoles that I grasp, feeling the pulse of the blood-filled stripes. Let us look to the cold-blooded blue square that we plant ourselves on as stars, making our marks in this smooth and creamy void. Let us walk into the white absences were color is uninhabitable to the Negroes or the Latinos who used all of their angry fixes in activism and cigarettes that burn holes through eternity. To the Chinese who were thrown out of our stars like mutts in order for our stars to shine the plastic glow that stays illuminated in the lights of Chick-fil-A that sells homosexuals with a side of Leviticus. Taking, taking, taking to the past and somehow justifying death to natives, then scalping the land as some sort of victory of great imperialism that still hangs to our hearts like a collective tumor. But I have been kind, I have been free. To the breath of foreigners breaking the normality that is conformity. Let me scare you with your greatest fear which is locked away in gravestones and darkness. Locked away in Kerouac, Whitman and Ginsberg For that which is change. I speak directly to the inner gashes that are your soul. Change before the fireworks turn into mutually assured destruction. And you won’t. Change before the feminists shoot me with their trigger warnings. And you won’t. Change before the immigrants last breath murmurs **** dreams”. And you won’t. I am America and my flag is paper, white paper.
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Apr 17, 2015
Apr 17, 2015 at 10:48 PM UTC
White Paper
It was humanity that was the mixed bag of jelly beans at summer camp that spilled out into the scorching sun restless for *** and sun-tans. All before they melted away into Kandinsky paintings pretending that happiness was something of a virtue. And while the paintings ignited into a righteous firestorm of white men in white robes with hope and faith, flying out the church doors and taking to the sky, morphing into airplanes to destroy the great peace in the form of two obelisks pointing to Allah. To the american hypocrisy that we drink like cough syrup to cure nothing. While pretending everything was alright. While dead men are worshiped more than a word of the past that is the future. Let us forget about innovation. Let us look back onto the great circles of cycles that we overturn on the great history of the 4th of July flagpoles that I grasp, feeling the pulse of the blood-filled stripes. Let us look to the cold-blooded blue square that we plant ourselves on as stars, making our marks in this smooth and creamy void. Let us walk into the white absences were color is uninhabitable to the Negroes or the Latinos who used all of their angry fixes in activism and cigarettes that burn holes through eternity. To the Chinese who were thrown out of our stars like mutts in order for our stars to shine the plastic glow that stays illuminated in the lights of Chick-fil-A that sells homosexuals with a side of Leviticus. Taking, taking, taking to the past and somehow justifying death to natives, then scalping the land as some sort of victory of great imperialism that still hangs to our hearts like a collective tumor. But I have been kind, I have been free. To the breath of foreigners breaking the normality that is conformity. Let me scare you with your greatest fear which is locked away in gravestones and darkness. Locked away in Kerouac, Whitman and Ginsberg For that which is change. I speak directly to the inner gashes that are your soul. Change before the fireworks turn into mutually assured destruction. And you won’t. Change before the feminists shoot me with their trigger warnings. And you won’t. Change before the immigrants last breath murmurs **** dreams”. And you won’t. I am America and my flag is paper, white paper.
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****** spoke. They gathered. They listen. George Wallace, spoke. They gathered. They listen. Donald Trump, speaks. They gathered. They listen. And all their population of supporters shows you in some forms they attracts bigots. ****** target the Jews. They gathered, they listen. Wallace target blacks. They gathered, they listen. Trump target Latinos. They gathered, they listen. And truthfully none of those target harmed anyone in terms of surviving. But the supporters cries foul when they should be addressing their problems. That those with less can't affect those with more. But one voice comes with tricks of manipulations and fictional facts. This group, they gather and willingly listen. ****** met his downfall. Wallace, met his match. Trump will be ******* if only logic wins out. Cause many has gathered and listen. A bigot don't have to say the words to be known. Most of the times, its in their tone.
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Aug 30, 2015
Aug 30, 2015 at 8:47 AM UTC
They Gathered, They Listen
He de hallar la pajiza flor del alba, el mielado fulgor de la mañana que todo embrujo de la noche salva, para empezar mi vida americana. Esa de Nueva York ancha y absurda para nosotros, los latinos puros, que Dios construye con su mano zurda, sin contención, sin diques y sin muros. Mi tiesa piel criolla y española echaré sobre el hombro de una ola al bajar en su puerto desmedido. He de vivir la vida neoyorquina, sin mi severa falda de latina, pero el rosario al puño, suspendido.
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Víspera de viaje
Freedom only exists When everyone is free. It cannot be called freedom If it only refers to me. I have watched people lie And say all men are equal, And ignore that they believed It didn't refer to black people Or gays, or Jews or Latinos Based on centuries of shame. When we start to fix all that Bigots see it’s not a game. It’s time we humans grow up And stop acting the heathen. There is no word more loving Than that one word, freedom. We’re a different sort of people Than we were living in caves. We need to rely on more than A sign that says “Jesus Saves.” We suffer from maladies now That have been here all along, To think a latecomer ideology Can fix things is just wrong. We need to focus on how we As humans have make errors And agree to stop doing them And become the standard bearers. Freedom only exists When everyone is free. It cannot be called freedom If it only refers to me.
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Jun 26, 2018
Jun 26, 2018 at 5:14 PM UTC
FREEDOM SONG
Mammon, their false god of avarice, says, their 'final solution', extinction, to steal everyone's everything, can't be stopped, notseeism will rule. "...We(e),..." bay, nay, you will be separated from the State, as the Constitution dictates, the people will rise again, your treason will end, Oyate. Somatic revolution, each one's foci of attention solutioning with all life, betwixt Earth and Sky, evincing to be alival, not survival, lifting sights, inspiring visions, meditations, actions, sweats to Sundance. While we look to the 7 th generation, with our climate crisis strike, starting 9-20-19 and 'the Green New Deal', we also mournfully remember 'Wounded Knee', 12-29-1890, where 300 Native Americans were exterminated. Most of them were women, kids, a root of our king-kong sized terrible-two's current war on kids, mostly Latinos. I would fly just for a day, as a mayfly, the Beauty Way, if I were more me, rather than as long as an eagle flies, selling out, destroying, killing. Viva la evolucion. Wakan Tanka.
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Sep 9, 2019
Sep 9, 2019 at 6:11 AM UTC
Mitakuye Oyasin
To, all those secret bigots of political forces in society. You always expose stupidity with the things you do. With the things you say. Bigots know their sector. They know their spectators. We, not surprised that when the bigot spoke many applauded. They always do until investigated by the news. Oh, they employed within the military. And upon many police forces. They easy to spot just like at work. Comments they say. Symbols they wear. Or simply speaking about racial pride. And yes, they apart of many pigmentation. Talking about things they would change about America. Many against the views of the founding fathers. The bigot spoke about states succeeding. But many knows, what region of America's speaking? They still hadn't recovered from the lost of the Civil War. As I recall many, many decades ago. And for those in Texas talking about their are too many Latinos. Well, wasn't it purchase from the state of Mexico? We relocated the Native Americans and even they didn't want to go. And many has contributed greatly to the lone star state. Yes, the bigot spoke and fools always listen. While denying truth of contribution of other races. Be, whatever nationality they are? A few of us realize, we all are a child of God? Yes, even the bigot that spoke.
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Feb 26, 2015
Feb 26, 2015 at 8:38 AM UTC
The Bigot Spoke
When have police officers ever had a great reputation? Just when? When many of one race has never adapted to changes within society. During the segregation days of injustice by many. And harassment by others. It's to be expected sooner or later police would face problems. In all honesty white cops doesn't know how to approach black males. Or even Latinos. Just speaking truth. To serve and protect means more than that. It's also means earning respect. Which we know isn't always given. Many whites feel very uncomfortable within groups of minorities. Just speaking truth. Those that does have been raised to respect everyone. Then you have some that feels no respect for anyone. Just been honest. Mobsters have had officers on the take. And even in present times. Many still dilute the position with criminal behavior. Compare minorities cops to white cops. And this shoot to **** is less among them. It's all within the talk and people's skills. Sure white population support them. They get harass less from them. And it shows. While they more suspicious by some minorities. Just speaking truth. It hurts, when truth is exposed. But than many juries are not wised to convict. When evidence points to a fair deal of justice. Let not a badge dictate them innocent. When facts states truthfully that they are guilty. And than you ponder why folks says, where is the justice? Admit many are racist. Admit many deserve to be in prison. Face the facts. Notice which race commit the same crime as minorities. But gets a different sentence for the same crime. Just speaking truth. For truth lies within. Then again, some officers will be offended. That's just the way it is. Truth hurts. Especially when it directed toward them.
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Dec 26, 2014
Dec 26, 2014 at 7:28 PM UTC
Just Speaking Truth
When have police officers ever had a great reputation? Just when? When many of one race has never adapted to changes within society. During the segregation days of injustice by many. And harassment by others. It's to be expected sooner or later police would face problems. In all honesty white cops doesn't know how to approach black males. Or even Latinos. Just speaking truth. To serve and protect means more than that. It's also means earning respect. Which we know isn't always given. Many whites feel very uncomfortable within groups of minorities. Just speaking truth. Those that does have been raised to respect everyone. Then you have some that feels no respect for anyone. Just been honest. Mobsters have had officers on the take. And even in present times. Many still dilute the position with criminal behavior. Compare minorities cops to white cops. And this shoot to **** is less among them. It's all within the talk and people's skills. Sure white population support them. They get harass less from them. And it shows. While they more suspicious by some minorities. Just speaking truth. It hurts, when truth is exposed. But than many juries are not wised to convict. When evidence points to a fair deal of justice. Let not a badge dictate them innocent. When facts states truthfully that they are guilty. And than you ponder why folks says, where is the justice? Admit many are racist. Admit many deserve to be in prison. Face the facts. Notice which race commit the same crime as minorities. But gets a different sentence for the same crime. Just speaking truth. For truth lies within. Then again, some officers will be offended. That's just the way it is. Truth hurts. Especially when it directed toward them.
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El acusado es pálido y lampiño. Arde en sus ojos una fosca lumbre, que repugna a su máscara de niño y ademán de piadosa mansedumbre.       Conserva del obscuro seminario el talante modesto y la costumbre de mirar a la tierra o al breviario.       Devoto de María, madre de pecadores, por Burgos bachiller en teología, presto a tomar las órdenes menores.       Fue su crimen atroz. Hartóse un día de los textos profanos y divinos, sintió pesar del tiempo que perdía enderezando hipérbatons latinos.       Enamoróse de una hermosa niña, subiósele el amor a la cabeza como el zumo dorado de la viña, y despertó su natural fiereza.       En sueños vio a sus padres -labradores de mediano caudal- iluminados  del hogar por los rojos resplandores, los campesinos rostros atezados.       Quiso heredar. ¡Oh guindos y nogales del huerto familiar, verde y sombrío, y doradas espigas candeales que colmarán las trojes del estío!.       Y se acordó del hacha que pendía en el muro, luciente y afilada, el hacha fuerte que la leña hacía de la rama de roble cercenada. ................................................................................................       Frente al reo, los jueces con sus viejos ropones enlutados; y una hilera de obscuros entrecejos y de plebeyos rostros: los jurados.       El abogado defensor perora, golpeando el pupitre con la mano; emborrona papel un escribano, mientras oye el fiscal, indiferente, el alegato enfático y sonoro, y repasa los autos judiciales o, entre sus dedos, de las gafas de oro acaricia los límpidos cristales.       Dice un ujier: «Va sin remedio al palo». El joven cuervo la clemencia espera. Un pueblo, carne de horca, la severa justicia aguarda que castiga al malo.
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Un criminal
El acusado es pálido y lampiño. Arde en sus ojos una fosca lumbre, que repugna a su máscara de niño y ademán de piadosa mansedumbre.       Conserva del obscuro seminario el talante modesto y la costumbre de mirar a la tierra o al breviario.       Devoto de María, madre de pecadores, por Burgos bachiller en teología, presto a tomar las órdenes menores.       Fue su crimen atroz. Hartóse un día de los textos profanos y divinos, sintió pesar del tiempo que perdía enderezando hipérbatons latinos.       Enamoróse de una hermosa niña, subiósele el amor a la cabeza como el zumo dorado de la viña, y despertó su natural fiereza.       En sueños vio a sus padres -labradores de mediano caudal- iluminados  del hogar por los rojos resplandores, los campesinos rostros atezados.       Quiso heredar. ¡Oh guindos y nogales del huerto familiar, verde y sombrío, y doradas espigas candeales que colmarán las trojes del estío!.       Y se acordó del hacha que pendía en el muro, luciente y afilada, el hacha fuerte que la leña hacía de la rama de roble cercenada. ................................................................................................       Frente al reo, los jueces con sus viejos ropones enlutados; y una hilera de obscuros entrecejos y de plebeyos rostros: los jurados.       El abogado defensor perora, golpeando el pupitre con la mano; emborrona papel un escribano, mientras oye el fiscal, indiferente, el alegato enfático y sonoro, y repasa los autos judiciales o, entre sus dedos, de las gafas de oro acaricia los límpidos cristales.       Dice un ujier: «Va sin remedio al palo». El joven cuervo la clemencia espera. Un pueblo, carne de horca, la severa justicia aguarda que castiga al malo.
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as i tried not to yell at you because i get paid about $8.25 an hour not to, i thought about what i might say to you if i was off the clock. first, i’d like to assume that if i met you in person, you’d be the kind of racist who has a confederate flag on the back his pick-up truck and reposts ******** of facebook with stars and stripes and “build the wall” in comic ******* sans. but, then again, you might be the kind of racist who will smile with your shark teeth and shake my father’s hand. tell us we’re not like those latinos like it’s supposed to be a compliment, like being the model minority gives us some sort of ******* priority, some of protection in a country that’s turning on people just like us. i will assume you’ve never been homeless, never been unsure where the **** home is. i will assume that you wouldn’t bat an eyelash if we uprooted you and sent you back to whatever european country your ancestors hailed from. after all, this country isn’t for immigrants, is it? i’ll assume never worried about feeding your children or keeping them safe everytime they stepped outside, never been in a country trying to burn itself alive, never been somewhere the only options were drowning or jumping ship. if you had, i don’t think you’d hit me with this ******** and i’m so ******* tired of trying to find a better metaphor to make someone understand that people do not leave home without a reason and i don’t know what to say to make some ******* donor understand that people don’t leave their home behind, houses unboarded and rotting into ****** shores, unless home is crumbling under their heels. people don’t leave home unless they’re afraid that someday soon there will be nothing to come back to. people don’t leave home unless they’re running from something much, much more hateful than you.
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Oct 13, 2017
Oct 13, 2017 at 1:10 PM UTC
TO THE ALUMNI WHO SAID HE WOULDN’T DONATE TO DRAKE ANYMORE BECAUSE WE’RE A SANCTUARY CAMPUS:
as i tried not to yell at you because i get paid about $8.25 an hour not to, i thought about what i might say to you if i was off the clock. first, i’d like to assume that if i met you in person, you’d be the kind of racist who has a confederate flag on the back his pick-up truck and reposts ******** of facebook with stars and stripes and “build the wall” in comic ******* sans. but, then again, you might be the kind of racist who will smile with your shark teeth and shake my father’s hand. tell us we’re not like those latinos like it’s supposed to be a compliment, like being the model minority gives us some sort of ******* priority, some of protection in a country that’s turning on people just like us. i will assume you’ve never been homeless, never been unsure where the **** home is. i will assume that you wouldn’t bat an eyelash if we uprooted you and sent you back to whatever european country your ancestors hailed from. after all, this country isn’t for immigrants, is it? i’ll assume never worried about feeding your children or keeping them safe everytime they stepped outside, never been in a country trying to burn itself alive, never been somewhere the only options were drowning or jumping ship. if you had, i don’t think you’d hit me with this ******** and i’m so ******* tired of trying to find a better metaphor to make someone understand that people do not leave home without a reason and i don’t know what to say to make some ******* donor understand that people don’t leave their home behind, houses unboarded and rotting into ****** shores, unless home is crumbling under their heels. people don’t leave home unless they’re afraid that someday soon there will be nothing to come back to. people don’t leave home unless they’re running from something much, much more hateful than you.
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