"mongoloid" poems
So many of us sit, think and still
wonder,
But have we ever gave ourselves the chance to ask?
Well no!
We just rejoice and find oursleves
floating on cloud nine because
"it is just another public holiday"
So many of us have cherished this day,
as a day of drinking, parting
and being in the family way.
Which "Us" am i refering to?
Well it is the youth of South Africa,
That can only sing "Freedom is coming tomorrow" very well
without knowing the significance
of that freedom
and what it took for this freedom
to come
well let me take you back to the
hands of time.
In June 16, 1976
the mongoloid youth of South Africa
marched down the streets of Soweto for this freedom we have today.
BLOOD SHADE,
SCREAMS,
EXPLOIDING SOUNDS
and the cries of faces without races
filled the streets of Soweto.
Parents feared for the lives of their children,
but who knew that adolescents
could be so brave?
They stood together in unity,
the same unity we lack today.
Fought for what was right and that came with their African roots,
which we nolonger honour today,
they fought against the usage af
Afrikaans as the main language of communication at schools.
And look where it left us today.
We have the Right to choice
and the Freedom of association.
And not forgeting that,
they left us with the courage to say "WE ARE PROUDLY SOUTH AFRICANS"
Jun 11, 2015
Jun 11, 2015 at 11:19 AM UTC
Some where he sits or gorily sleeps
The blank stare behind a rigid cut
Eyes of a seductive Mongoloid
Offering nothing for the poison of the sea
The arbitrary swirls of mechanical time pieces
Add heavy track to this an
already shady beat
all the While A reproduction of some Germanic doll
Shrinks smaller into the keyholes
of his frontal lobe
A pleasant amnesia of the purist kind
This anglo doll she is now just a capsized pin
Her black and white knee socks mold into a geosed canvas
Ready to be re-painted with all the emotions he has left
What if I told you I loved you?
By the stairs with the works of post-modern misunderstanding
But it will be just a whisper of shear for the racket builds upward
The spinning mechanics joined by the school busses stopping forever
Yes that statement of old is clearly devoid
Merrily a swallow’s anthem
An absurd tangent of malfeasance
Almost a monosyllabic destruction
Only some misshapen coke spoons remain
As well asthe hands of a man who is much safer out of bed
The saline was much too dodgy
And the sheets…..Well they were never clean
Nov 30, 2010
Nov 30, 2010 at 9:11 AM UTC
To be taken silently with violence
Not to utter a salutation
Just the cracking of a door hinge
And a look that indicates that stopping your desires would be laughable
An absurdity
not to be pondered!
The jolting sound of head cracking against metal
And wrist yearning to be ground to the bone
After hours of furtive clutching
The kind on nail bending fervor that just takes the taste right from bread
Grabbed into a cranium synthesis
Im am forever enslaved in the darkest corridor of your existence
I doubt I will ever be able to leave this lighting wasteland
The eagerness pounding through the point were skin meets weapon
I am infiltrated like a shanty filled village
A real slum filled valley
Hopeless against tracking systems and torture methods
You plunder my underdeveloped hospitality
Like Jesus to a farm boy
As I scream **** you Mongoloid
I am gasping into your filth
A sacrificial lamb
Bliss by the slaughter wells
Mouthfuls of disgust
As your knees jab deep into skid row
Grinding the forgotten and the deserted
Until they are flattened corpses
****** dry of the water holding them together
You are pleased
The phantom has been fed and to ask for seconds would only tease the lamb
As I lay gushing organs with a smirk
Broken bent and emaciated
I feel alive and it is wondrous.
Nov 30, 2010
Nov 30, 2010 at 9:02 AM UTC
the one drop rule
invisible blackness
black versus white
different categories of race
created by man for evil purposes
such as caucasoid negroid and mongoloid
this is a bunch of hooey
these words are just terms for
marginalising whole groups of people
by some smarty pant with a so-called degree
in anthropology and sociology
who gives people the right to classify other racial groups
I pondered it - anyway just blue smoke and mirror stuff
created by some racist people organizations and institutions
by creating racial and class division plus religion creating wars
thus
God created man - singular form
thus
God created man from the earth (black mud)
and no accident that we are made from one blood
oh yeah - Adam's blood
mankind is just a very large extended family - based on DNA
Europeans are not 100% white
they became white because of environmental adaptations
and they are no better that the rest of God's creations on earth
skin color does not make one racial group superior than another
this is just a head and mind game for social and political advantages
however everyone is a Heinz 57 mixture
White People are mixed with so much stuff - too
oh yeah baby and who is your daddy now
race mixing has been around
throughout the history of mankind and still
it will continue to mix races in the future
just remember this
the neanderthal mated on a regular basis with the homosapien
no race is 100% pure of anything
according to one drop rule - White are neanderthals too
this one drop rule is a silly and hidden taboo that is just plain ludicrous
God is a good God
God is neither Black nor White but He is a Being of Existence of every dimension
God is the all of everything - seen and unseen
God exist in every creation
God is a part of you and me
the will of God lives in every place
God is justice and equality
God don't speech hate and racism
God is love and peace toward all mankind
God does not make men slaves
God gives man the right to be free
God wants man to be inherit the earth and be good stewards
Well ain't God good no matter how you look at it
yes He is good - all the time my brother
yes god is good and everlasting
amen amen amen
Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 10:31 PM UTC
You ************* monster!
What you have done is unforgivable.
Keep producing mongoloid monologues,
But, the best of what you were is gone.
I ******* hate you for what you have done.
There is no going or coming back.
I hope you ******* suffer,
You selfish, needy *****
I hope you are happy,
Because now I know who you really are.
All of you should be ashamed of yourselves,
You lying, self-centered ******* animals.
The faces you will put on today
Are ******* filthy fragmented foolish friendless freaks.
You hate me, your actions prove it,
But not half as much as I now hate you,
You petty *****
Mar 11, 2013
Mar 11, 2013 at 2:41 PM UTC
A Friend of mine
has this mongoloid son
Wait
you're not supposed to say
mongoloid
Down syndrome
That's what they call it
Last night I paid him a visit
That little ******
was all over me
poking me
sniffing me
touching me
My friend laughed
and told me
his son liked me
He thought it was cute
I only wanted to
brake that little
fingers of his
for messing up my hair
What?!
I have to like his ***
just because he's ********
Jul 30, 2013
Jul 30, 2013 at 10:50 AM UTC
Della holds
tightly in
her stubby
nail bitten
8 fingers
a buttered
slice of toast
taking bites
now and then
then dips it
in the boiled
egg yoke deep
her mother
watches her
Downs daughter
with those kind
Mongoloid
bright blue eyes
how'd you sleep?
My eyes closed
Della says
sleep all night?
Yes all night
did you dream?
Had nightmare
what about?
Froggy's touch
what about
Froggy's touch?
I pretend
I'm asleep
why pretend?
If he thinks
I'm asleep
he won't touch
over much
he touches?
Touches me
tickles you?
Not always
but sometimes?
Della nods
eats her toast
her mother
looks at her
the wide mouth
the broad tongue
touches me
secret place
secret place?
Where abouts?
Della dips
the soldier
of sliced toast
in the yoke
of yellow
prods it down
and then out
and licks it
where abouts
does he touch?
Mother asks
secret place
Froggy says
mustn't tell
where abouts
Loadingdoes he touch?
Froggy said
cousin's can
where abouts
did he touch?
Mother asks
once again
Della stares
at her plate
of boiled egg
and sliced toast
thinking of
Froggy's touch
and promise
she had made
not to blab
(Froggy's word)
about it
the secret
touching place
it's nowhere
Della says
dreamed of it
in my sleep
are you sure?
Mother asks
Della nods
and dips toast
in the yoke
of the egg
thinking on
Froggy's touch
up her leg.
Dec 30, 2013
Dec 30, 2013 at 4:59 AM UTC
all chumps and chimpanzees gathered
round the fire roasting rotten meat
we are our ancestors no new species
evolutionary hubris we still drag
clubbed mongoloid feet
bashing out sabre tooth wisdom
on rocks in our pathetic
primordial little caves
hidden in these layers of abstraction
the alpha males still ****** the world
but now with bombs and jet planes
banks and bankers and atms and credit
thinking why bother but to get ******
i take tiger over sniveling banker or
manager who wont hire for
i lick not his bootheels
nor crawl up his
gaping ***
wound
Aug 15, 2014
Aug 15, 2014 at 10:29 AM UTC
My life
has appeared unclothed in court, death-bone by death-bone witness,
and I was shamed at the verdict
and was given a cut penny
and the entrails of a cat.
But nevertheless I went on
to the invisible priests,
confessing, confessing
through the wire of hell
and they wet upon me in that phone booth.
Then I accosted winos,
and derelicts of the region,winning them over into a latrine of my details.
Yes. It was a compulsion
but I denied it, called it fiction
and then I swallowed it like my fate.
Now,
in my middle age
I'm well aware
I keep making statues
of my acts, carving them with my sleep-----
or if it is not my life I depict
then somone's close enough to wear my nose ----
my nose, my patrician nose,
sniffing at me or following theirs down the street.
Yet not even five centuries ago this smelled queer,
confession, confessions
and you devil was thought to to push out their eyes
and all the eyes had seen (too much! too much!).
It was proof that you were a needle
to push into their pupils.
And the only cure for such confessions overheard
was to sit in a cold bath for six days,
a bath full of leeches, drawing out your blood
into which confessors had heated the devil in them,
inhabited them with their madness.
It was wise, the wise medical men said,
wise to cry Baa and be smiling into your mongoloid blood,
while you simply tended the sheep.
Or else to sew your lips shut
and not let a word or a deadstone out.
I too have my silence,
where I enter another room
and am not only blind,
but speech has flown out of me
and I call it dead
though the respiration be okay.
Perhaps it is a sheep call?
I feel I must learn to speak the Baa
of the simple-minded, while my mind
dives into the multi-colored,
crowded voices,
cried for help, I've no ******* on me.
The transvestite whispering to me,
over and over, My legs are disappearing.
My mother, her voice like water,
saying "fish are cut out of me.'
My father,
his voice thrown into a cigar,
"A marble of blood rolls into my heart"
My great-aunt,
her voice,
thrown into a lost child at the freak's circus
"I am the flame swallower
but turn me over in bed
and I am the fat lady."
Yes! While my mind plats simple-minded,
plays dead-man in neon,
I must recall to say
Baa
to the black sheep that I am.
Baa. Baa. Baa
Oct 15, 2015
Oct 15, 2015 at 12:52 PM UTC
Those eyes
are broken
Open up
and really look
The silly
stupid
mongoloid world
you cloak yourself in
is a substandard joke
A token of esteem
to your own
mediocrity
I wish
I could climb back
into the ground
and use the earth
to drown
out
the sound
of this useless
hopeless
mewling
trash heap.
Mar 1, 2017
Mar 1, 2017 at 1:52 PM UTC