"oppressions" poems
--------------------
When red ran from the sand.
From the depths, rose a creature quite old.
Solemn and slow, not a care to be bold
It anchored itself, and gave no expression
The strength of its shell, shook in depressions
Tall extensions: its lifeblood, its protection.
Found scattered, on its shell, in cert’n sections.
The pride of Madagascar—the creature by name—
Are Rosewood and Ebony now mangled and maimed.
--------------------
When red ran from his hand.
Trees are felled, and the humans displace:
Lemurs are losing, they can’t find their space.
Hear the creature wail, its shell echoes with grief—
The sounds of its guests, find little relief.
For its pride is valued, and cut for a price
Hard decisions made—it is life’s device.
Wooden splinters bite back trading flesh to save flesh.
Living masses are caught in our culture’s great mesh.
---------------------
When red in hand and land.
Oceans to flood, new depths to behold
Our desires to fill, balk: “Don’t let them fold!”
She tires of our, meandering session;
Beating-out paths, to varied oppressions.
Laugh at the onslaught, of one great convection!
As humans propel, in that direction…
In all this, Gaia shrugs, naked-apes are to blame.
Fruiting, of hand and land, need-be one and the same!
---------------------
Jan 20, 2016
Jan 20, 2016 at 12:30 PM UTC
O star...
How you mock me.
Away from earthly oppressions.
Safe, is thee,
Hung home in heaven.
I envy your distance,
From this place we call earth.
You feel no resistance,
No pain, and no hurt.
For your father, an immortal,
And your mother owns all.
You feel no torture,
Only wished upon when you fall.
O star,
How you mock me.
How dost thee shine so bright?
And if thou art blue,
You still emulate light.
Nov 6, 2012
Nov 6, 2012 at 10:40 PM UTC
How can you feel holy
By enjoying the pain of others?
Where is your righteousness
When you deny starving mothers
And brothers and fathers
And sisters and all others
Who need your help the most?
Does it add fat to your roast?
Is compassion some kind of crime?
Does it rob you of a dime
When you have so many millions
And not enough time to spend them?
Your logic is totally illogical!
It’s just short of scatological,
And adds up to the villainy
Of a well-armed sworn enemy.
This abhorrence of equality
Is your standard normality.
It often seems that being smug
Works on you like a kind of drug
That makes you see your neighbor
As nothing more than slave labor.
You who won’t throw dogs a bone
Did you get where you are alone?
How can you feel holy
By enjoying the pain of others?
Where is your righteousness
When you deny starving mothers
And brothers and fathers
And sisters and all others
Who need your help the most?
Does it add fat to your roast?
Is compassion some kind of crime?
Does it rob you of a dime
When you have so many millions
And not enough time to spend them?
You are taking a word such as liberal
And making a synonym for criminal.
You seem to want freedom to choose
As opportunity for religious abuse.
How are these oppressions you do
Good for anyone, not even for you?
For sure it might gain you some gold
That won’t love you when you grow old.
Unless you intend on buying affection
You won’t get much from an election.
The people who will applaud are shallow
If they let the world’s fields lie fallow.
Nov 12, 2015
Nov 12, 2015 at 4:16 PM UTC
*and you shall be content with stirring up the sentimentalities of the old,
rather than be content in capturing the imagination of the young.*
i only write in my mother tongue when i feel too much
oppression, when it’s not worth being reminiscent
of the years 1772 through to 1939, only then do i use it,
and using it weep. i know of the post-colonial stress disorder in
western societies, it’s effective use in psychiatry
of these societies to curb any ambition of historical reminiscene,
i know of the oppression where man integrating
into these societies is told to relinquish his mother tongue,
i know of these oppressions: and of eastern european "exotica" -
you wouldn’t be fooled to expect tigers and polar bears,
palms date trees and icebergs to be so close to england!
murzynek bambo wita! kopciuszek magda wita!
hanzel und gretyl / bambo i magda!
but did you know poland is the host nation of the european
bison, and the no. 1 tourist destination of storks?
oh... polar bears it is.
Dec 7, 2015
Dec 7, 2015 at 6:19 AM UTC
Fireworks that spray paint
brain matter and bits of tongue
like obscenities in a bathroom stall.
Spray paint everything yellow.
Own everything. Burn everything.
**** everything. Invade it;
infect it, vivisect your name
as an iron-on patch into it's guts.
Stitch it in close to something necessary.
A little bit of everything dies.
Anything that can be possessed,
umbrella of oppressions.
Prancing.
You'd make me cry just to see if it's possible.
You'd push me off the edge to see how close I am.
You'd push me off the edge to see how fast I fall.
You'd step on my fingers to see if they bleed.
You'd stomp in my teeth to see if they crack.
You'd spit on the corpse to see if it hydrates.
Cartwheeling.
Anything abrasive, anything slightly toxic,
something disgusting to indulge in.
**** the gardens, **** the rivers and lakes;
Died in a boar's den,
died in the stomach of a volcano,
gave it three days and decided
death suits one just fine.
Pieces
of
dishes
stuck between your toes.
A rainbow in violent undertones,
the ROYGBIV of slashing motions.
Tax exempt.
Cartwheeling.
A little bit of everything dies.
Jun 21, 2014
Jun 21, 2014 at 3:16 AM UTC
Enchanted shore descendant
Branch upon the kapok tree
In forests of El Yunque
The coqui songs compelling me
To write of the Taino sol
Still burning to be free
From The Lion's sword that bled
The pages of our history
Stolen land attendant
Encomienda living property
From roots of our ancestral bones
Was grown the crown's economy
Then baptized in the crosses' greed
They cleansed us of our savagery
A genocide of cultures made
Them rich with inhumanity
Kept at bay our independent
Luminescent solidarity
Then poured in streams of Lares cries
To fields of pure cane tyranny
Yet caverns of Camuy echoed
The fleeting winds of liberty
To tempest warships harboring
A hurricane democracy
By '98 dependent
In '17 a new decree
Final draft trenches fulfilled
The ballot box with empty
Then sharpened territory clause
Reconstituted colony
Campos prison cancer cell
Vieques poisoned casualty
Infecting the resplendent
Contagious hope of sovereignty
Pandemics of oppressions past
Injecting present poverty
Virulent exploitation plagues
Still draining veins systemically
Indebted to the parasites'
Uncommon wealthy travesty
Sep 25, 2016
Sep 25, 2016 at 1:00 AM UTC
I write still to show
The flaws I've corrected
Before I must go
Here's some I've perfected
I’m breakable bones
My weakness is real
You can crush them with stones
But my spirit is steel
I've howled depressions
With lone wolf confide
I've roared at oppressions
With lion king pride
I rose unforgiving
From indifferent graves
To haunt those unliving
As apathy's slaves
I council with silence
Keep quiet rapport
With deafening violence
Of thoughts waging war
I’m pop country's menace
Funk you profanity
Spit-venom vengeance
And breakdowns of sanity
I’ve sung innuendos
Love's chorus revised
By symphonic crescendos
Two beats harmonized
I’ll never stop trying
To save this blue sphere
Our mother is crying
Apocalypse tears
I move hyperactive
My sprinting brain sped
Beyond the distractive
Outrunning my dread
I’m tempests emerging
Typhoons kept at bay
And now my storm surging
Will blow you away
I’ve fearlessly gazed
Upon Grim's complexion
The hell that was raised
Was just my reflection
I channel my hate
As my anger stream grows
Into rivers irate
Then tranquility flows
I form nations in clouds
Above law and border
No star-spangled shrouds
In my higher world order
I’m heat-seeker lines
Poetic napalms
Metaphor landmines
And ticking rhyme bombs
I've warped my perceptions
And force-choking grips
And Death Star conceptions
From jedi mind trips
And I’ll leave you assured
My defense will not yield
Until peace is ensured
And these wounds have all healed
Incurred as the ward
Of my muses concealed
Now commanding a horde
Of the furies revealed
I have severed accord
With the fates I have sealed
I've matured and endured
On this life battlefield
With this pen as my sword
And this pain as my shield
For I am the lord
Of the words that I wield
Jun 5, 2016
Jun 5, 2016 at 1:31 AM UTC
White Buffalo
So intense,
she is,
with her visions of saving the world,
she is,
a White Buffalo…
so when she expresses her lofty aspirations,
and she regrets her past oppressions,
she tells me that when she tells them,
her visions of saving the world,
they tell her she can’t fulfill them,
I tell her she can,
I tell her she can do anything she wishes,
because there is a significant difference,
between possibilities and probabilities,
and just because something is improbable it is not impossible,
honestly if she has visions to save the world,
she should pursue such honorable pursuits,
honestly,
don’t ever let anyone,
tell you you can’t do anything,
give no energy to the lethargic cynics,
don’t let other people’s broken dreams,
fracture the magical dreams you have,
you are,
a White Buffalo,
you are,
a medicine women,
you represent,
divine feminine energy,
you are a healer,
you with all your attributes,
are in a prefect position,
to overcome all oppressions,
please help,
help heal this planet,
help heal humanity,
from all the harm that Man has caused,
we need the healing power of Woman,
Man,
has done so much damage,
but not too much damage,
to not be able to reverse this curse,
let her heal this humanity that hurts,
holy Goddess,
hold me honest,
rest me upon your *****
this world’s in trouble,
let’s make love platonic,
let’s create what they said we couldn’t,
wouldn’t,
it be great,
if we could,
take down the wooden stake,
that’s been used to crucify our Lord,
Lord,
this is,
all getting,
too intense,
to be ignored,
we need,
a woman leader,
because woman is the true healer,
and every man should bow before her,
I am ready to surrender my ego for sure,
no cure,
can come from the poison,
masculinity,
has been too intrusive,
with it’s ways that’ve been forced in,
without consent,
He’s impregnated hatred in this matrix,
created the meanest fetus,
then made her birth it no abortion,
consent,
is not meant to mean yes when it’s said through coercion,
stop ****** the world,
consent is not meant to mean yes when it’s said through coercion,
intensions,
bent,
we all want to find Hope,
we’re just not sure where Hope went,
this is all so incredibly intense,
So intense,
she is,
with her visions of saving the world,
she is,
a White Buffalo…
∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆
from '777' available worldwide
https://www.amazon.com/dp/1548700746
Jul 17, 2017
Jul 17, 2017 at 7:59 PM UTC
I'm not one for sentiments
But there is love and possibility
So much hatred in the world
Why not give kindness a shot
If I am going to be free
Free from all kinds of oppressions
I have to give up the selfishness
That I am smarter than life
I have gone insane from theologies
And religion hasn't saved my soul
The past is exactly what it is
Can I ever go back? No.
I've taken hard knocks to know
Only what experience has taught me
There's only one thing I need to know
Life's a ***** no point in it
Can't I just accept there are possibilities
That are beyond my puny mind of mine
Things that can't be seen but are there
I can't see love but I can feel it
It's in the air and the smell is sweet
Why should I let there be peace?
It's because I haven't got the energy
To hate just one more day
Nov 25, 2015
Nov 25, 2015 at 11:41 AM UTC
.
Slaving for wage,
Lungs fired by ****
Crumbled in pockets
Asked for in alleys
And never returned
To people who give
Without question
As their own nation
Shuns them clearly
As their dream beacons
All souls to a new kind
Of slavery, so silky
That oil forgives, oily,
All oppressions black
Endless, perpetual wars
That the slick tongued
Are singing for, more
Deaths in faraway
Places, thirty pieces
Of silver for immortal
Judas, thirsty for bane
Vengeance on innocence
Insanity by a rope on tree
Familiar strangers who hate
Blinded by signs and seals
Corrupted in a makeshift Eden
That they themselves have
Soiled, spoiled, laid barren
By the polluted streams,
In the bigoted townships
Yea, there shall be order
Left off in a barren field
And all shall see my flag
Holey in my tattered jeans.
Mar 4, 2017
Mar 4, 2017 at 12:10 AM UTC
The forgotten essential workers
Who is seldom mention.
Who is so often belittle,
Porters,
Cooks,
Laundry workers
Dish-washers,
Elevator-repair men
Recreations,
Front Desk clerks
Certified Nurse’s Aide
Home health aide
Waiters,
God! Oh how hard we work!
Private’s aides
Now as we celebrate Juneteenth 19
Black lives matters, can we really be seen
After four hundred years of oppressions
Can we tossed back river of tears
we are in 2020 is this our commission?
We as Essential workers in your nursing homes
Being tested twice a week,
By your essential worker phlebotomist
Who puncture my vein with his cannula?
For the governor executives order
listen up you uncouth nurses who poke
The swab sticks deep into my nose.
Listen this quackery has to end!
Pandemic, politics, election strategy
We essential need more respect.
You with your white privileges, and your treats
(RE: PCR swabbing, week being on Wednesday and ends on Tuesday.
If you work 4 or more days you need to be swabbed 2x per week
In a 48hrs time frame, if not you will be taken off the schedule
You will be humiliated, said the Administrator Mr. Sal
Because he is not a babysitter there to reminds you..
Said a non- professional white privileges)
as the city navigate the pandemic
moving on to injustices of systemic racism,
poverty, militarism and
a war economy:
Mr. Governor Cuomo: I cannot breathe..
I
Mr. Governor Cuomo: I cannot breathe
Jun 20, 2020
Jun 20, 2020 at 9:16 AM UTC
Beware, ambition!
So-called politicians,
Have you got enough super yet?
You'll never get poverty, by heck!
What are you doing today?
Like job creation, let's say?
Beware, ambition,
So-called politicians,
We all get to vote,
We'll cast aside your yoke,
Beware, ambition,
And fear oppressions,
So-called politicians.....
Jan 5, 2017
Jan 5, 2017 at 7:43 PM UTC
Daughters of Albion, thy beauty and intelligence is bespoke
But your spirits are encumbered by cynical agendas, by oppressions' yoke
I await the awakening of the revolutionary heroines within
Who cast off the stigma and shame of the doctrine of sin
Against the rubric that sullies and enervates thy strength
I verse and converse at tedious length
Inciting thee to free love, to the wayward path of libertines
I'd love to see thee dwell freely in beautiful, transcendent scenes
Thou art the flux of sultry stunning supernovas
Only faintly seen and understood by men
Peering like voyeurs down elaborate telescopes
Which, for having filtered you, diminishes thy beauty by factor of ten
Your divinely wrought stars beget a radiance
That offers guidance to the straggling soul
I'd love to be enamoured of you in dalliance
The bars between us the mind appalls
Arise ye makers of rebellion and revolution
Commit thy self to the creation of freedom
And live in eternal celebration
Admitted in to passion's kingdom
Together the daughters of Albion shall waltz
Out the spirit's cage
Going traversing through the wilds again
With inspiration for them I rage
Mar 4, 2017
Mar 4, 2017 at 1:18 AM UTC
MLK described his hope to live in a colour blind world,
What he meant, was to acknowledge race and colour first, and be concerned,
Concerned what privilege we were born into, and what was not earned
Not disregard the differences or how inequalities are preserved.
you’re supposed to see colour first and understand the struggles people face,
face for having different skin colour or being a minority race.
Call out racist jokes when you hear them with your friends and family
Because these micro aggressions need to be addressed for their brutality
Brutality with its unimaginable gravity and tragedy
On people who have worked so hard to fight grim actuality.
When tragedies occur
do your research and infer,
with plenty of resources online to educate ourselves
on the history and the issues that present themselves.
As communities, we should take a moment to think
Think of the frustration, limitation and the unimaginable disintegration
of wealth disparities, justice bias, education and housing discrimination
That the colour of our skin gave us different experiences and oppressions
So no, we aren’t ready to call ourselves colour blind because we just cannot be.
The colour of our skin was an agency of prejudice, power, and prosperity.
At a time like this, when its hardest to fight, fight for what’s fair and right and ask as many questions as you’d like
Or racism will continue to blight humanity at its sight.
Sep 28, 2020
Sep 28, 2020 at 9:10 AM UTC
Everyone has emotions,
Don't deprive them of their devotions.
I believed that happiness
Was in toe with sappiness.
But now I see emotions lend passion,
Even though apathy is trend fashion ,
People just don't care,
Missing the mistress mare.
For she kept depression in check,
She softened oppressions harsh peck.
Now emotions overlook towers,
Blurred motions mistook my powers.
Intent on a new intention,
Pulled even In a state of suspension,
Wild, lost child, nothing about his life was mild.
But I do not dwell,
On times where I fell,
Not reliving a personal hell,
But my advice I do tell.
Negativity can embrace,
Bring pain upon your face,
But you have to rise,
Fly high above petty lies.
Aug 2, 2014
Aug 2, 2014 at 2:51 PM UTC
We build walls of insecurities out of sand.
Mixed with the grains of every desire wanted.
This child shoveling sand with plastic heart beats, & hollow rhythms, attempts to utter a Simple hello.
Hello, to the true Human condition.
This hello is not what I want.
But the dream, a pixelated picture, not yet complete, floats along bending rivers of doubt, & opportunity. Longing to become whole..
To become whole with the freedom, I deserve.
Yet my anxieties beckon me.
My elders of the court, surrounding, judgement passing, of what true pain means.
Are we all not children?
Discovering that our roots were slowly embedded with and from the Scorned children, before us.
By our oppressions and automated systems, that have created the demons in our closets, & The monsters underneath our beds.
Awaiting for the Court, to hand us our fates..
These Elders, watch my aspirated expression, turning me blue with Rage.
"Don't speak out.
For the Foundation of this Very Court, was built on the Silence of Hushed lambs."
The surrender to appointed Society, has tainted the Fine woven threads of our wool, giving no Remorse for the Unfed child's belly.
An insatiable hunger to scream, "We have a voice!!"
We are a stairway of Bodies, rising our Oppressors, higher than our own souls.
Though we should fly freely among those un-chained,
We are a whisper, fighting against the forceful winds, who claimed Democracy.
If we are equals, why must we not Speak?
Why In a Valley littered with deaf ears, and blind hearts, can we only hear our elders sing...
With liberty, and Justice for all.
Jan 25, 2017
Jan 25, 2017 at 11:54 AM UTC
Our lives crumble and fail,
East or west more losses, we avail.
Our foods turned life-sucking cocktail,
You got our revenues and livelihood to curtail.
We, the creators of the foodbanks,
Our lives now turned, mere votebanks,
You destroyed all our riverbanks,
Brought our lives to end with your loan banks.
Lived and cultivated happily, with self-reliance,
Demolished our self-reliance, with your idiotic brilliance,
Deliberately stole our self-reliant roots,
Through your money-minded ****** selfish loots.
Toiled ourselves to turn lands arable, through generations,
Your land acquisitions, put us under dictator oppressions,
Blood-sucking ********** gave us all fright & plight.
It’s time we rise and say Our Land is our right.
Deceived us with your developmental illusions,
Pushed us towards suicide, under incurable obsessions,
You commented our farming, old and backward.
Taught us land-killing cultivation, very awkward,
In the form of food, we harvest poisons,
With our life costing mistakes, learnt worthy lessons.
We don’t get our deserving price,
Unheard and Weakened is our voice,
To the rulers, we are just a useless choice,
For them, our deadly weeps are just a noise.
We sold our crops to middlemen,
Rulers sold our seeds to corporates,
We sold our lives, for a permanent solution.
For media, we are just a hype.
To the nature’s wrath, our crops became unripe.
For livelihood, we are compelled to get loans,
To repay you, push us to reloans,
Lose our lives, helpless and incapable to pay our loans,
Leaving our families helplessly to moan and groan.
It’s time we raise a warning.
To you we won’t keep serving,
You will realize our value,
To the corporates, when you lose your revenue.
It’s an alarm, it’s an alarm,
To the businessmen we lose our farm,
To the corporates our ownership is vested,
From owners we have turned rented.
Your life would be on danger,
Then corporates would play with your hunger,
You can’t even own a burger,
To them your lives too would turn meager.
Let’s rise and fight,
Exclaim our land is our identity and right,
Let’s correct, where we lack,
To the natural farming, let’s get back.
Let us raise,
Let us determine our price,
If we become selfish and vice,
You will lose all your slice and rice.
Oct 11, 2018
Oct 11, 2018 at 2:10 AM UTC
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...
Oct 8, 2019
Oct 8, 2019 at 12:12 PM UTC
I never found it difficult
Or struggled much to find
The words that could describe to you
The chaos of my mind
I just can't find the ones to say
Exactly how I feel
Or felt
Or will feel for you still
Your passion was an ocean
An ambition with no bounds
Tranquil rebel hurricane
Of righteous fury sounds
Your flare was of horizon suns
Untouchable devotion
To set upon the world in peace
And keep the earth in motion
We left no trace out in the woods
And got thrown out of bars
We burned oppressions to the ground
And then lit up the stars
We blew off doing homework
My house was next to yours
We just hung out like normal kids
Avoiding all their chores
You shared with me the benefits
Of vegan life subsistence
While I explained dimensions
Of a limitless existence
You were everything I wanted
In a serious decision
The perspective that I needed
To then clarify my vision
So never was it hard to be
An anarchist with you
Yet still defend and advocate
Moralities we knew
Still too good to be true
Was often how I'd feel
Wondering how could this woman
Possibly be real
Dec 27, 2016
Dec 27, 2016 at 2:44 AM UTC
Left to your own devices
You know what the price is
Obsess on the horror that awaits you
Anyone on the inside and outside, those ready to erase you
Think of all the pain and blame
All the time they take and it takes you
And takes you a little bit longer
Think that trauma makes you stronger
Makes you a little bit harder
To relate to
And they hate you
Wait to break you
After years no break through
Everything you
every accomplishment is fake
Any time you thought you were great
Just get blocked when they discriminate
Say your oppressions your own fate
It's your life at stake
No matter how little time you take
You'll always be late
And what a cute little almost boy you could have made
Jan 28, 2018
Jan 28, 2018 at 11:31 PM UTC