"marginalised" poems
The Equalist!
RE: The guerrilla girl’s poster 5% women artists yet 85% of the models are female.
This poster was heralded as a feminist rebuff of misogyny and the male gaze.
It is my opinion: one of the reasons females are more sexualised than males in Western society; is because the majority of women working in a sexualised industry such as modelling, dancing, fashion or *********** choose to perpetuate that role and the connection between *** and femininity; often in industries where females outnumber the men six to one; I'm also aware that the majority of the hierarchy in theses industries are male, it seems their gender solidarity is more concerned with the money; than notions of ****** inequality; thus perpetuating the issue.
Vernacular test:
Step one - Question one:
I took a survey of 30 fellow artists asking what is a misandry? followed by what is your gender?
Step two - Question two:
I took a survey of 30 fellow artists asking what is a misogyny? followed by what is your gender?
I did offer any information or allow any of the subjects to see the survey paper, or overhear the question.
Results: 30 subjects took part in the survey; One female knew both words and their meaning, and one female didn't know what Misogyny was. (Two females approached refused to take part in the survey, all men approached engaged.)
Step three - Question three:
I then gave all the subjects the dictionary definition and asked why they thought the vernacular misandry is not as well known as the word misogyny?
(I should add that I too couldn't recall the vernacular meaning of: Misandry; though I could recall the meaning or definition of Misogyny.)
Answers:
Female... "I don't care"
Female... "It's due to a gender economic imbalance"
Female..."Blokes just don't like it when women speak out about it"
Female..."I don't get involved in protests"
Female..."I don't know"
Female..."Men just think with their ******
Female... "There's more misogynists"
Female... "Because men are pigs"
Female... "Why does it mater"
Female... "It's just a word"
Female... "I'm not interested"
Female..."Try being a women"
Female... " It's ******** it's just a vernacular"
Female..."You wouldn't understand your a man"
The other 5 Females... chose to offer no explanation.
Answers:
Male..."I don't know"
Male... "who cares"
Male... "Yeh that's interesting"
Male... Why does it matter"
Male... "Let me think about it"
Male... "Who gives a ****
Male... "What's this about"
Male... "Can I see the results later"
The other 2 males... Chose to offer no explanation.
I personally identify as human; and don't wish to be defined, labeled or marginalised; I also don’t believe that secularism in any measure is healthy or meaningful in an inclusive society.
I question why 29 out of 30 subjects had heard of Misogyny; and just one person had heard of Misandry.
Sexism is not as the dictionary suggested prejudice, stereotyping, or discrimination, typically against women.
Everyone is effected buy prejudice, stereotyping, or discrimination.
The subtleties of which is played out every day.
Feb 5, 2020
Feb 5, 2020 at 11:32 AM UTC
Silence. Solvent. Substituted;
subsidised
then marginalised
instituted and muted.
And, often
persecuted.
Rationanalised
by abstraction:
every minuscule
interaction dissected.
All that is left is convoluted,
misconstrued
and rejected.
The lucid bewildered.
The disillusioned bejeweled:
rooted in their state of mind.
Effortlessly self-proclaiming
restraining
and refraining
purging the imagination:
the waning of maligned mankind.
And all of his
illuminated limitations.
Jul 3, 2014
Jul 3, 2014 at 10:38 PM UTC
Booming Rhetorics (Spoken Word- Freestyle-Dramatics)
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
==Booming Rhetorics ==
by
Checkered Darks
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
(Copy the link below to your browser)
https://soundcloud.com/user-367453778/boomingrhetorics
Human nature itself is a smash of contractual responsibility. A splash of rights afloat as we sink in our psychological rooted moral panics. All I see is a cascading titanic of ventures our mislaid adventures one after another. The criss cross of chains, we bonded in tax measures, reserve treasures...... It's not my leisure I beg you don't make your pleasure.
I sink in pressure, resolving Karl Mark ideology of conflicted power. Is it our born nature or nurture to live in a world of social polarisation. A pole to pole, a tug of war. Each owning and holding a rope.Is it our task to cage in boxes, fencing notions of inequalities within our society. Is it our right this notion Bourgeoisie and Proletariat.
Help me out as as I wade in the swampy lowland. Treading through and through, head afloat, the submerging walk me to the shores..... Help me find my way through this dark tunnel. Help me see the light, let the sun ray penetrate my blight.
In our dichotomy of democracy we have made it right. A rolling ball of ........
1. Stock them high sell them cheap is the order of the day.
2. Social warehousing of merging demand and supply chain.
3. A disintegration of socialist entrepreneurship.
4. Re-distribution of Export Production Zones in marginalised countries.
5. A surge of capitalism on this patch we call the universe.
6.Conortions of monopoly colluding sustainability.
I pass this ball to you. As the industrial revolution fades and debates of "STEEL" revolves.
My Speech is a mere consideration, our contradiction. The contractual complications that we have grounded and granted ourselves as humanity. My voice is an exchange, my gift, a cloud of thoughts, an arousing hope our haunting costs.
Apr 4, 2016
Apr 4, 2016 at 6:19 AM UTC
Do we, as a people, deserve to be critised?
Have we as a nation become so desensitised
to the plight of those among us who are marginalised?
Do we care nothing for the less well off, the disenfranchised?
Rents and cost of living as high as we have ever known,
numbers on the breadline and homeless have consistently grown,
so many suicides because people feel so desperate and alone,
how can we stand by and let this happen to so many of our own?
So many families torn apart and utterly devastated,
Far too many of our young people reluctantly emigrated,
People losing their homes, heartbroken and humiliated,
There is not much about this country now to be celebrated!
It’s true that during the recession most people lost a lot
But was it the booming economy that really started the rot?
Did we start judging each other by how much each had got?
Was compassion for our fellow man something we forgot?
Though going through hard times we still give much to charity
many services only possible because people work voluntarily
but the government rub their hands together with unashamed glee
Are they right to think our actions absolve them of all responsibility?
Though all of us are struggling, each with so much on our plate
Should we not come together, do something before it is too late?
Surely the plight of these our people should prompt a national debate?
to ensure our government meets the needs of every last citizen of our state.
The frightening thing is, it could so easily be you or I
left unemployed or homeless, or barely scraping by
we cannot just dismiss it, the signs are all there
and if the present is anything to go by, will anybody care?
May 7, 2015
May 7, 2015 at 3:54 AM UTC
This is a very important day
A grand and glorious day
The day on which we became a Republic
Thanks to the guiding light
Of Babasaheb Dr. B.R.Ambedkar
The Architect of the Constitution
And the True Father of the Nation
If it were not for the great leader's efforts
In creating such a precious document
Many of us would have been denied
Our basic rights and freedoms
There would have been no equality
Many of us would have been languishing
In the gloomy confines of Tihar Jail
In fact, many of us
Wouldn't even have had the chance to live!
This is a very important day
A grand and glorious day
Or, is it really?
Today is the day
On which we take the pledge
To follow and protect the Constitution
But do we really follow it?
Is there really equality everywhere?
Is everyone getting their basic rights?
Are we really a free country?
Is our human rights record
Really something to be proud of?
This is a very important day
A grand and glorious day
Or, is it really?
If Dr. Ambedkar were alive today
He would have been speechless
With sheer shock and outrage
At the way in which
Our Constitution is being misused
Whether it be innocents languishing in jail
Or the atrocities inflicted by the trigger-happy police
Or arbitrary bills being passed
To benefit the rich and the powerful
Or people being denied a chance to love
Because they belong to different religions
Or an entire state being trapped and besieged
And cut off from any kind of communication whatsoever
And of course, casteism in a myriad variety of forms
At each and every level, whether overt or subtle
The list goes on and on
With no end in sight
This is a very important day
A grand and glorious day
Or rather, supposed to be
In reality, a very sad day
We are cowards at heart
We wear our patriotism on our sleeves
We scream from the rooftops
India! India! India!
But we never question injustice
The sheer injustice perpetrated on a daily basis
On many of our brethren
Especially the marginalised communities
They are also equally patriotic
But we deny them the chance
To even share the stage with us
Till we, the privileged majority
Acknowledge our complicity
In all the injustice and inequality
And start making amends
In action, not mere words
There is no point in celebrating Republic Day
Jan 26, 2021
Jan 26, 2021 at 1:39 AM UTC
I am a lost satellite
in Space.
Marginalised from Earth
dancing amongst the stars
the moon
the universe.
Sailing
across the sky
the Milky Way
awaiting my destiny
dancing with fate
flirting with coincidence
hoping that one day,
I will be found.
Mar 5, 2014
Mar 5, 2014 at 5:03 PM UTC
Sound of a pen clattering
Admonishing beauty of arts rendering
Lines of rhyme rhyming
Mixed with rhythm rhythming
Like a poem life flowing
Like a drama life pushing
Like a prose life rushing
And then comes representing
Unrepentant life projectoring
The literati's lyrical lyricalling
Recalling the gods of writing
With written words calling
Calling calling calling coming
And hence societal ills hiding
Bad leaders, leadership running
Disillusioned souls troubling
Marginalised masses crying
And crime rate like jet flying
Bombs like pure water exploding
Politicians still stealing and looting yet fearing
Fear! phobia! fear embracing
Minimum wage hurting Governors like bee stinging
Unemployment destroying like earthquaking
Half baked graduate graduating
Our education unseriously provoking
Undefined boundaries exposing
Immigrants immigrating
Police, Soldiers, customs, Road safety, etc all corrupting like they feeding...
Inec election in chaos resulting
Nigeria a name of peoples's confusing
NEPA, WATER, ROAD, HOSPITAL unrealistic absurding...
Corruption! corrupting!! corruptioning!!! Are we starting or finishing? Building or destroying?
The lyric of the literati busy deconstructing...
Apr 20, 2015
Apr 20, 2015 at 2:07 PM UTC
I want to be counted in the company of sinners
the marginalised;
Where Jesus loved to keep company when on earth
and saves for eternity.
Oct 27, 2014
Oct 27, 2014 at 10:22 AM UTC
*children the happy idiots, secondary children doubly idiotic thinking of love idealising via Darwinism, must be a toast... well surrender you and i, i'd too be ably nimble, but i got Mandela on my back quacking: you?! what the **** yeah, they said till the field and laugh and pretend. brain dead you ***** BRAIN... DEAD! they didn't hear you, they're english, try Celtic.. Brie anomaly of Normandy... nothing... what about egyptian? sha shoo shisha collar coo coo? hey... that works, lets give the flapping owl a cuneiform signature worth a sunset!*
love it,
slightly drunk,
got a bottle of whiskey ready,
cried listening to a horror film
soundtrack, got over 200 reads on a poem
of mine,
got hooked on a pope song
from the early millennials,
when i was a teen hammering leftover
refrigerators on the sly with a tourist
as a party was taking place,
and the un-lived the happily ever after
with the suicide of the Grimm brothers
for subsequent pressures that demanded
attentive dissatisfaction marginalised
into concrete paragraphs sentenced for a grade
for a furthering from schooled to schooling.
Feb 28, 2016
Feb 28, 2016 at 9:57 PM UTC
I met with an angel who had the wings of an airplane
smoked cigars and drank whiskey
told bad jokes and gave out losing tips for the races
all the same I loved that angel, so human
so happy in their skin, so unselfconscious
and I understood a little bout Jesus, who sought out the company of the lost, marginalised, and the sinners polite society condemned in their blindness, yes Jesus felt at home with the unpretentious.
Feb 15, 2016
Feb 15, 2016 at 8:15 AM UTC
Politicians wield the old, sick, and all marginalised
its in their remit, their DNA
when it comes to taxes, and the taxed,
they are right on cue
Politicians need votes, and the popular voice
in any given age, comes very cheap Mr Billionaire.
Feb 4, 2016
Feb 4, 2016 at 6:22 PM UTC
Promises made
given and laid down in writing on stones.
I read runes in the ruins of what has become,
what they have done to me.
No longer free
I am devoured alive by those who contrive to control everything,those who bring nothing to the table and the table is bare,
I share my crusts with the beggars who sit on the street,in dark corners I greet them and then I console them
for they too have lost all to the mighty of Whitehall who don't give a damn,for
they are the ram raiders the modern day slavers and we're all in chains,laid on the slabs,looked at in labs,dissected,inspected and put out to tender,sent out as fodder for the high in society to shoot at like pheasants,for aren't we the peasants of old?
Life grows cold an old story indeed
those who can't pay are unable to feed.
So let us give thanks to those wonderful,fabulous,marvelous food banks who are there just in case we try to get out of the poverty trap that stares us in the face.
Fuck'em all down in Whitehall I know where I am and I am a man not a note in a margin but marginalised just the same,just a piece in some game that they play.
It'll all change one day though I may not be here to cheer but where ever I am,I will still be a man, and
not a laboratory experiment.
Feb 22, 2014
Feb 22, 2014 at 7:22 AM UTC
there is camaraderie
and sometimes just that
loose affiliation which brings
us together in a common purpose.
Christmas is coming although one
can't be really sure
perhaps this year it'll be marginalised
like the outcast and the poor,
but perhaps not.
I'm full of hope
I have to be,
unchanging
even as things change
around me,
She grounds me from these
flights of fancy,
anchors me
in this storm.
Dec 21, 2020
Dec 21, 2020 at 2:02 AM UTC
that bankroll of notes changing
train pistons into traffic cones
and brief loves into marriages
with the motherly continues, but
ended up, just being, a roll of toilet paper
that could buy you **** for ink
or ink for a bestseller that ended up a door stump for a housed breeze.
but she loved it, she took the story of pristine eden
and her the satan like a camcorder with selfies
readied into recycling a pretty face
that everyone wanted to fudge into snorkel in a sea of gag white;
so i took to the monk ape for inspiration for levitation
and i rooted into a child being the: bullied anorexic lexicon,
the all rounded a*
tenner for a teenager housebound into being schooled
for a grey of officiated scrubbing of papers into
business.
i loved it, i had my midlife crisis without a harley
and i faked myself as a dodo fearing man’s fear of death
more than the unexpected extinction of my fellow species,
which i took to be fearless.
so once i experienced caesar’s love of spontaneity and death,
the last two things i feared were homelessness
and a prolonged state of dying utilising morphine
from april till june,
that’s why i never changed surgery,
never wanted to check the cholesterol or blood pressure
acting like a virus i asked to attack my heart
with marginalised debriefings - if i prayed
for the herz blitzkrieg right i also got a heartbeat prior.
Oct 1, 2015
Oct 1, 2015 at 8:59 PM UTC
I stand with you, Dear Comrade
Because, always do you stand
With the oppressed
With the marginalised
With the hated
With the silenced
And finally
With the ignored!
I stand with you, Dear Comrade
Because, every time do you take the lead
When it comes to fighting against injustice
Calling out media bias
Exposing the hypocrisy of the liberals
Highlighting gender and caste issues
Blasting the central government left, right and centre
And last but not the least
Making us all feel your righteous anger!!
I stand with you, Dear Comrade
For you, does my heart bleed
Because, are you an extremely kind soul
Who cares for humanity above all
Beneath your raging passion
I can feel your sheer compassion
You've been through hell
And yet, do you stand tall
Fighting endlessly and fearlessly for social justice
And striving your hardest for peace
Without even thinking of giving up
To you, greatly do I look up!!
I stand with you, Dear Comrade
Of you, forever will I remain proud
Whenever I have a bad day
It is you, who shows me the way
During my darkest phases
It is you, in whom I find solace
Even when I am extremely negative
You provide me the motivation to be positive
May Jesus bless your beautiful soul
And may you find your inner peace, above all!!
Oct 8, 2024
Oct 8, 2024 at 11:50 PM UTC
*there are many more inexplicable things that men did or said, than they ever would have thought and un-become, transgressing grammatical conventions / etiquette to suggest that they might be conceived as mad, or simply incomprehensible - such that the expression of thinking would never precipitate into an equilibrium with being, to say as much or anything at all, along with the basis of phonetic encoding, was thought originated on the a priori Libra, or with foundation for experiencing hearing or seeing? whoever reads this... i don't care... most of what i write i don't care about... i'd chosen to be a bus-driver than any form of agitator.*
history is so democratic that, for some reason,
it remembers Louis XIV but not Louis XIV's gardener;
yeah, very democratic; which is why we love democracy so much,
so we get to incubate child-abuse scandals like
eating ice-cream... 'cos' it's so easy to just do by ignoring
the facts when the access toward avoidance
was marginalised... comedy is cruel, tragedy is tender...
history reveals that not being cruel to the tragic
makes the tragic persona the comic sadist;
and that by being cruel to the
comedian makes the immediate lack of persona
actually true, i.e.: oh right, your son was anally
misguided? well, sorry Timothy buckle i am for thee;
yeah, you guessed it... not really.
Aug 28, 2016
Aug 28, 2016 at 8:26 PM UTC
As long as men die,
Liberty will never perish.
As long as there’s a sky,
Freedom will always be cherished.
Whenever men cajole and lie,
Oppression refills its chalice.
Mausoleums and refined cemeteries;
Hypogeums, perfectly aligned symmetry.
Resplendent medallions, ostentatious statues.
Dictators depict themselves as majestic stallions,
Doing everything to sensorily detach you,
Removing you from the frailty of reality.
A dictator will control discourse of all sorts;
They’ll hunt dissidents like it was a national sport.
They’ll turn the nation into their little fort,
And they’ll leave generations traumatised.
Opposition is demonised, criticism is stigmatised;
They’ll tell you that the enemy is everywhere,
And that entire communities should be marginalised.
A dictator will huff and puff until the house falls down.
Dictators **** entire countries, tearing sovereignty’s gown.
They’ll seize the population’s weaknesses,
Playing to your mind’s fears, its deepest recesses.
A dictator will convince you that he is a living god;
They’ll try to avoid you seeing through their fraud.
Remember that dictators are sacks of flesh,
Just like the rest of us;
They’ll rot in the ground when put to rest,
And their bones will return to dust.
Oct 7, 2019
Oct 7, 2019 at 11:48 AM UTC
Cubism an ugly distortion, criticised in comparison to fine art. Look at those shameful, jagged and unpolished edges. But no, change your perspective. These deviations are the very building blocks that allow us to tower over those who once marginalised difference. Those who rejected the ‘other’, for fear of refracting their own reflections in the opposition. Inevitably they’re left face to face with the ‘ugly’ perceived in here.
Jan 7, 2019
Jan 7, 2019 at 7:41 PM UTC
A generation of the blind
No, not blindness of the eyes
But blindness of the mind
If we cannot see beyond our eyelids
How can we see the poor and deprived
The voiceless, downtrodden and marginalised
Or the gross abuse of human rights
That the perpetrators seek to justify
And the media does well to glorify
Nothing is new on the news every time
Watching has become a depressing exercise.
A world of the deaf
No, not deafness of the ears
But deafness of the heart
If we cannot hear beyond our ear....drums
How can we hear about the rot of the earth
The cry of that child everyone have deserted
The ever loud war drum beat
The glaring yearning of humanity that
Is constantly well kept underneath the carpet
Which crisis analysts always help with beautiful excerpts
Buttressing governments' claim "there is no other way but that"
A generation of the numb
Not numbness of the 5 senses, no
But the numbness of the soul
If we cannot feel beyond the pain that is our own
How can we feel the hurt of those without a home
Those kids that go naked without food
Those that are not sure of a tomorrow
Those that wars have confined to grieve and sorrow
Isn't that why governments are always rude
Instead of apologising and making amends for policies gone wrong?
Isn't that why we post for pictures with the malnourished so the world can call us heroes?
Our cheap trick to be famous
The state of our society
Is a reflecting statement of who we are, really
But the mirror seems to be broken
Thus fine tuning the reflecting images
A world of selfishness, cruelty without rights
One country does wrong and another feels the bite
War erupts, one more wrong to make the other 2 right
A world of long days without nights
If you cannot go to sleep
How is it possible to dream?
A world bedeviled with drought
Everything hitherto coloured green is fading out
Unless the rain pours down soon
Like the fields, we are also doomed
Unless we feel, hear and see
This is where our end begins.
Mar 20, 2016
Mar 20, 2016 at 4:44 PM UTC
Is this a democracy?
Is this a secular country?
Where is liberty?
Where is equality?
Where is fraternity?
Dear government, all the masks you wear
To cover your true faces
Which are full of evil
Have fallen like nine pins
It is time to cut the pretence
And to call a ***** a *****
For you have been brutally exposed, in broad daylight
As nothing more than a dictatorship
A tyrannical, fascist, Brahmanical dictatorship
Where human rights are routinely violated
Dalits and Muslims are lynched
Countless atrocities happen in the name of caste
Countless freedoms are curbed
And the list goes on and on
With no end in sight
Is this a democracy?
Is this a secular country?
Where is the freedom of expression?
As the marginalised communities
After countless years of suffering
Raise their voices in a crescendo
The police show their ugly faces
Raining blows after blows
Turning a university into a warzone
In an uncanny reminder
Of the Jallianwala Bagh massacre
Is this a democracy?
Is this a secular country?
A country where dissent is brutally suppressed
A country whose government cannot be questioned
A country whose constitution is being ignored
Tell us, dear government
Are you really better than the Nazis?
Nov 18, 2019
Nov 18, 2019 at 9:05 PM UTC
mean as anger gives consent
at their own lives lack
and false promises they made up
to convince themselves
that their way of life would beget
all the happiness they deserved
and finding themselves bereft
at a loss to be able to escape
their meanness they take out
on the marginalised they consider
to be weak, cause of their own grief
fair game for their vitriolic rage!
Apr 26, 2017
Apr 26, 2017 at 9:23 AM UTC
An inner page
frayed but full to four edges with marginalised annotations leaving nothing unsaid over the bleeding watermark shouting its insistence that nothing is ever finished only paused pending further inspiration from yet unheard whispers from beyond the perimeters of this captured inner rage.
Jun 8, 2018
Jun 8, 2018 at 8:58 AM UTC
The green eucalyptus were in array
as I walked at the edge of the earth
consumed in the midst of the unknown
or was it just a figurative forced mist
illusioned on pictures in depths of mine
whilst the sun rays shone light
through these windows into my withins
and my eyelids were steady in the middle
at the centre where all the spirits awashed
and life vanished like an uncertain rainbow
Yet I was so young at heart, unable to see
and looking back, I can’t seem to understand
or even hold tight to that mystery angel
the one that brought me to the city of the sun
in another time, after another rapture
where psalms whispered of an eternity
and sonnets were effervescence and marginalised
and the questions were sought and internalised
and happiness became the solid I consumed
at the heart of paradise where it all fades
Come yee symphonies arise to the skies
above the sun each holding to the other
Let me just follow merry and nourished
hoping to be tangled in the lost rhythms of the sun
Apr 7, 2019
Apr 7, 2019 at 4:58 AM UTC
a man may be bent over with the weight of history
and in turn may never be remembered
Oct 8, 2017
Oct 8, 2017 at 11:02 AM UTC