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"personalities" poems
Basketball stands for war or battle. That's why I think about the players' personalities, in my foxhole or squad. Danny and Ben are fast and smart. Dan especially can pass making him master and commander. To defeat them as we did is pst satisfying. Ben's five year old son disdains to answer my question Why are you you? But I'm not here to catalogue the men's personalities. I like them. But each of us has moved on many times, when ___________ suddenly died the games went on with hardly a mention and his name has since been forgotten. But even this, absolute mortality of not just our bodies but our names and souls is not what I came to talk about. Yesterday, between games, I asked Joe how Molly his daughter likes the high school. He mounted an impassioned defense of reading as the indispensable skill when I suggested math, the scientific method and history are essential too. Also between games Bob diffidently asked why my kids are bald. I was moved by the care he took to satisfy his curiosity, concerned the subject might be difficult. He's a political science teacher so I took the opportunity to ask What ails the republic? Of course I answered myself wanting mostly to hear myself talk about Iraq and how empire is self-correcting. For once I was amusing I thought, treating the subject with a light touch heretofore lacking. But none of this is what I came to say. A new guy, long quick and strong, a bulldozer under the boards with a good outside shot if needed got into a dispute with the other Bob who likes to tell people what to do sometimes, about an offensive foul Bob called which we almost never do. The new guy said If you can't take it don't play under the boards which is what I say when I'm ****** and don't give a **** Bob said You've been pushing and shoving me all day. I said He doesn't want to be pushed and shoved which got a wry smile out of Danny as I put the ball in play.
0
Aug 10, 2015
Aug 10, 2015 at 8:59 AM UTC
At Basketball
Basketball stands for war or battle. That's why I think about the players' personalities, in my foxhole or squad. Danny and Ben are fast and smart. Dan especially can pass making him master and commander. To defeat them as we did is pst satisfying. Ben's five year old son disdains to answer my question Why are you you? But I'm not here to catalogue the men's personalities. I like them. But each of us has moved on many times, when ___________ suddenly died the games went on with hardly a mention and his name has since been forgotten. But even this, absolute mortality of not just our bodies but our names and souls is not what I came to talk about. Yesterday, between games, I asked Joe how Molly his daughter likes the high school. He mounted an impassioned defense of reading as the indispensable skill when I suggested math, the scientific method and history are essential too. Also between games Bob diffidently asked why my kids are bald. I was moved by the care he took to satisfy his curiosity, concerned the subject might be difficult. He's a political science teacher so I took the opportunity to ask What ails the republic? Of course I answered myself wanting mostly to hear myself talk about Iraq and how empire is self-correcting. For once I was amusing I thought, treating the subject with a light touch heretofore lacking. But none of this is what I came to say. A new guy, long quick and strong, a bulldozer under the boards with a good outside shot if needed got into a dispute with the other Bob who likes to tell people what to do sometimes, about an offensive foul Bob called which we almost never do. The new guy said If you can't take it don't play under the boards which is what I say when I'm ****** and don't give a **** Bob said You've been pushing and shoving me all day. I said He doesn't want to be pushed and shoved which got a wry smile out of Danny as I put the ball in play.
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49
Hello, Waitress in the sky So long her fear to fly She throws the world a smile bats her eyes in a wink she's gone hurling through the clouds calming others through turbulence **** the corporate scene Type A personalities acting mean humiliating her in a board meeting so she trades blue for green Goodbye Waitress in the sky trade her wings for a diamond ring So long her need for speed racing on the runway She was flying with the birds but now she's swimming with the fishes Deflated dreams of broadening horizons a-popped balloon and a rolling stone nowhere to go but everywhere Oh Lord, she won't get the answer tonight Oh sky, give her the strength to fly Oh Queen, find her a smart place to run and that's why she took US 66 for a drive
0
Aug 19, 2018
Aug 19, 2018 at 3:17 PM UTC
Goodbye Waitress in the Sky
Before I begin, allow me to explain, I too loved.. once, so think of me not as some cynic- nor as a master in the ways of love- but rather as a keen observer- now, that may mean I have nothing to offer you- no insider knowledge- no secrets of love- But I do  know how to tell a true love story - Interested? Fantastic- So let’s begin, True love, if there is such a thing at all, is like the thread that makes the cloth you can’t tease it out- you can’t extract meaning- without ending up deeper in the web- and it always remains- hidden under layers - In the end, that’s all you can really say about any True love story- They don’t generalize- They don’t analyze- They arent found- They just… happen. and that’s what makes them “true.” But what is this coveted “love” - the emotion?- the act?- the mentality?- Love, is a constant state of illusionment- A collective agreement amongst humans- that it, whatever it may be,  can be treated as an excuse for recklessness, irrationality, and misplaced strife-   A quid pro quo  between two individuals- to agree that they are doing something- anything- other than mindlessly drudging through life- Now that is not to say that what love creates is pointless- I said before, I have felt the embrace of love Love festers between individuals for so long it has no option- but to mould the physical to itself- and alter our personalities- Characterized by spontaneity- by indulgence- by risk- to love is the most dangerous experience in existence- the act of being fully vulnerable with another- while promising not to hurt them the same- Love is characterized by vulnerability- and the constant fear of being hurt- So you want to know how to write a true love story? be honest- dwell not on the “romantic” blindfolds that keep us irrationally seeking our partners- dwell not on the on the memories of a love that blossomed- reveal the core of love - A true love story comes from gut instinct- A true love story, comes from experience. A true love story, if truly told, makes the stomach believe So I said I loved once, allow me to elaborate- I too have felt the “butterfly stomach” - where the insides of the lovestruck turn on their host and manifests the emotional significance of meeting “the one” I too have spent the day daydreaming... -Lost in the thought of “the one”, seeking brief breaks from reality in my mind between moments of  utter normalcy I too have melted into a puddle of emotion…. -lying next to “the one” as we slowly spill more and more of the secrets that bound us as individuals, joining a spirit much larger than ourselves- I too have felt... invincible- -to know that I’ve found something more significant than myself. Something that replaces the fear of the future.. and makes it something to look forward to. Yes, I too have fallen in love. and I did just that- I fell. ..And that is my true love story-
0
Mar 7, 2014
Mar 7, 2014 at 2:12 AM UTC
How to tell a *true* love story
Before I begin, allow me to explain, I too loved.. once, so think of me not as some cynic- nor as a master in the ways of love- but rather as a keen observer- now, that may mean I have nothing to offer you- no insider knowledge- no secrets of love- But I do  know how to tell a true love story - Interested? Fantastic- So let’s begin, True love, if there is such a thing at all, is like the thread that makes the cloth you can’t tease it out- you can’t extract meaning- without ending up deeper in the web- and it always remains- hidden under layers - In the end, that’s all you can really say about any True love story- They don’t generalize- They don’t analyze- They arent found- They just… happen. and that’s what makes them “true.” But what is this coveted “love” - the emotion?- the act?- the mentality?- Love, is a constant state of illusionment- A collective agreement amongst humans- that it, whatever it may be,  can be treated as an excuse for recklessness, irrationality, and misplaced strife-   A quid pro quo  between two individuals- to agree that they are doing something- anything- other than mindlessly drudging through life- Now that is not to say that what love creates is pointless- I said before, I have felt the embrace of love Love festers between individuals for so long it has no option- but to mould the physical to itself- and alter our personalities- Characterized by spontaneity- by indulgence- by risk- to love is the most dangerous experience in existence- the act of being fully vulnerable with another- while promising not to hurt them the same- Love is characterized by vulnerability- and the constant fear of being hurt- So you want to know how to write a true love story? be honest- dwell not on the “romantic” blindfolds that keep us irrationally seeking our partners- dwell not on the on the memories of a love that blossomed- reveal the core of love - A true love story comes from gut instinct- A true love story, comes from experience. A true love story, if truly told, makes the stomach believe So I said I loved once, allow me to elaborate- I too have felt the “butterfly stomach” - where the insides of the lovestruck turn on their host and manifests the emotional significance of meeting “the one” I too have spent the day daydreaming... -Lost in the thought of “the one”, seeking brief breaks from reality in my mind between moments of  utter normalcy I too have melted into a puddle of emotion…. -lying next to “the one” as we slowly spill more and more of the secrets that bound us as individuals, joining a spirit much larger than ourselves- I too have felt... invincible- -to know that I’ve found something more significant than myself. Something that replaces the fear of the future.. and makes it something to look forward to. Yes, I too have fallen in love. and I did just that- I fell. ..And that is my true love story-
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74
In every eyes we see It has a different and unique personalities Even though you liked it or not The thing is, it is not your eyes No but's.
0
May 15, 2015
May 15, 2015 at 9:46 PM UTC
Eyes
How would you feel if you had someone else in your head? Another personality that could take over at any minute. Anyone with DID can tell you that it's not easy. DID stands for Dissociate Identity Disorder. This is where a person has more than one personality. It's caused by trauma that has happened in their lives. Mostly from childhood to in their teens. People with DID have "alters". Alters are the other personalities that come out. If you only have one, then it is known as Split Personality. It's actually very interesting and there are signs for it. Like having black outs and not remembering parts of a day. Speech and movement become different, along with wardrobe. And then the personality itself changes, likes and dislikes. No person with DID is the same. Everyone has different amounts and different lives. The only thing that's the same is that they have it. So if someone goes from being normal to being different. First see if they are just trying something new. But if the way they speak and act aren't right. Then you need to know that something might be wrong. So if someone says that they have Multiple Personalities. Or just a Split Personality. Don't run away and don't call them liars. Because they are still people and they need their friends. Besides, once you get to know and understand them. Then things will seem alright. It won't seem normal, but it'll be fine.
0
Nov 5, 2014
Nov 5, 2014 at 10:37 AM UTC
Split Personality
I have a special talent. I have the ability to taste peoples personalities. It sounds weird, I know. But this is not a fictitious writing. It happens only on the very first interaction with someone. Only in person obviously- Not through text or the phone. I feel it- Rather, I taste it in the first words they speak. The first time our eyes meet. And in one instance, the first hug. I guess I don't "taste it" Its more instinctual- It almost feels like a memory. Not like I just imagine it. Its more like- When you think someone said your name when they didn't. Sometimes people taste like the smell of rain. Some, like salt water. some, like cloth or toothpaste. On an occasion- Sweet Orange Soda. I guess I don't know if its actually personalities I am "tasting" It just so happens that the Fellows that taste like burning rubber, or rotten cheese end up being the ones that just cant get along with me. Its hard not to judge- When my body does it at the instant. Maybe its all about mannerisms, and subconscious memories. Its odd. Ill stick to my friends that taste like Mint and Orange sodas- Fruit and cake dough- Than those- who taste like moldy bread.
0
May 24, 2014
May 24, 2014 at 12:17 AM UTC
I Have a Special Talent
Minnehaha Park is hot in the summer Even by the water Who knew it would be so hot Even down by the water? But all of it is hot And there are acorns everywhere Scattered on the ground Below our butts as we try to sit And have a little picnic On a brightly checkered blanket Between two tall trees That tower above us And grant us shade While pelting acorns down Into our cheese and crackers And fancy rosé wine Whatever that means I thought wine was wine But I guess they have personalities Like people Like couples Some things pair well together Like my crisp pineapple and cheap fuckin' pizza Or your stinky blue cheese and weird cookie-like ******* Like us And the cheese sits on a green marble slab Elegant as **** Because that's just who you are But that marble slab sits on top of a pizza box Simple as **** Because that's just who I am And we pair well On this hot *** summer day While we drink rosé And "I love you" is all we say Because sometimes we don't have to say anything We're okay without words In the middle of a park On a hot *** summer day
0
Aug 16, 2018
Aug 16, 2018 at 4:11 PM UTC
Minnehaha Park
So many people have bad things happen to them Many people Become Insecure Completley unstable they get wish washy sometimes they act out through arrogance and ignorance I know so many I have seen so many people been taken away by insecurity over powered by it drowned in it they get so jealous so mean Sometimes they plot Sometimes they scheme sometimes they cling to others sometimes they become outcasts sometimes they hurt themselves sometimes they tear the greatest of friends apart all to be loved I try to save them tell them no but they wont listen they are too tuned out but you have to imagine their pain you have to put yourself in their shoes insecurity is not an excuse Its a real thing But yet people need to learn to control it there is no place in this world for week personalities Insecure people can also cause pain in others others who try to care for them and love them OTHERS WHO ACTUALLY STICK UP FOR THEM Insecure people become jealous and just stab them in the back then they suffer Then they cry then they have pain to hide those people who do nothing but try to help an understand only get hurt those people are just like Me.
0
Mar 25, 2011
Mar 25, 2011 at 10:02 PM UTC
Insecurity
Seek freedom from the anxious mind For, you have the freedom to choose Break the shackles of intimidation Claim your freedom for the sleeping madness Wake up to a world of freedom, for it’s yours Freedom for the prejudices and the dogmas Claim your freedom for the untrusting world Freedom beckons you from the deepest caverns Thwart the advances of violence, and seize freedom Do not pay heed to the abusive words As your freedom to speak up is jeopardized The weakest of hearts and minds, resort to violence And their abode inside is wrecked by loss of freedom You freedom will come when you walk out Opening the gates of your heart to freedom The weak personalities seeks to strangle freedom To dominate the beautiful souls, as they feel threatened Assert your freedom; this is becoming a puppet’s world Always made to act when the strings are pulled There is a world full of love and freedom waiting for you You just have to cross the threshold of the murky world Only you can win your freedom, if you choose to Seek freedom, and slam the door on the world of captivity © Amitav (Radiance)
0
May 8, 2014
May 8, 2014 at 5:56 AM UTC
Freedom
Where did the innocence go? Doves turned to ravens, Juicesboxes turned to bottles, Toxic beverages leaving poisoned bodies to roam these streets, Possessing personalities of ******** Suckers turned to joints, The high replaced the feeling of love, Which could propel you to places beyond any hallucination, Virgins mimicked, giggled at, Wide eyed stares penetrate their skin as they stroll on streets, Whispers fill rooms as their sealed bodies strut, Jealous viewers stand, shattered, With no purity to share with their loved ones. Thinking their assets can be displayed for the public to adjudicate, Maybe we're to young to know about love, We're young, yes we are. But what good is a young nation, With poisoned , broken youth. What good is a nation with no future leaders. So I'm asking, where did the innocence go? Tell me so I can know. So I can replace the demons that lurk in these infants, With the innocence that should gleam, From their flesh.
0
May 26, 2014
May 26, 2014 at 2:00 PM UTC
innocence
At least to me, Actually, I have many personalities. They fight and squabble in my brain, But you believe it’s just a game. When I talk to different people, There seems to be a sense, Because everything I say, Doesn't always make sense. Although some people who understand, Find keeping all the personalities, A quite difficult task, Do you care to ask. I guess I confuse myself, Before I lose myself, Especially when I’m by myself. What’s the difference between the two, Well why the hell am I asking you.
0
Dec 12, 2013
Dec 12, 2013 at 5:25 PM UTC
Personality
She said one, I said two She said empty, I said full She said hate, I said love She said left, I said right The disturbing thing is, this is all one person with two different personalities.
0
Mar 5, 2016
Mar 5, 2016 at 12:21 PM UTC
Her Personality
she stood there on the side blond curls bouncing with pride Get it! Get it! arms flung about announcing pink shoes and blue jeans worn with attitude of a more senior form Get it! Get it! before it’s too late Get it! Get it! the tide won’t wait orange ball floating being drawn in and out as she stood there ordering and starting to shout a small group are playing and arranging their roles for a future life being determined by personalities bold Get it! Get it! as blue shoes are soaked in salty water and laughter provoked all ends in happy joyfulness neat but some are more happy with their dry feet
0
Sep 5, 2016
Sep 5, 2016 at 8:28 AM UTC
Little Orange Ball
Let's take a moment And toast to the inevitable kind of men The ones we hate to cross But somehow do anyways The **** boys With their egoistic personalities And no good intentions They make the world go around By making us realize How much better we deserve So thank you For being a **** boy And showing me Everything I don't want in a guy
0
Dec 22, 2014
Dec 22, 2014 at 11:06 PM UTC
To the **** boys
There's something odd about it. How I know their names, their personalities, the jokes they tell. How I know the plans you guys have made and the fun activities you'll all do as a team. How I even know the costumes they'll wear and the conventions you will all go to. And I know what I'd say in conversation with them, How I'd get to know them better, How I would put my best foot forward, How I've longed to actually hear their voices so I can match them with their persona. But that's not in the cards. It's okay, I'm okay. But sometimes I realize how disconnected I am from your world. How far away and far removed I am. And I remember that no one knows me. None of them know my name, or my personality. They don't know the plans we have made or activities we are planning. They don't think about what they'd say to me in conversation, or how they'd "get to know me better". They wouldn't need to put their best foot forward or hear my voice to match me to the rest of my persona.... Because to all of them I don't exist. I'm a distant acquaintance from a long time ago. I am a passing name in very loose conversation every couple of months. I am the one who knows but isn't known. I am a ghost. And no one in your life can see me, Except for a very special person, And that's you. (i. r.)
0
Mar 26, 2015
Mar 26, 2015 at 1:48 AM UTC
Ghost.
All so different, but all the same All so centered, but full with shame All do looking for one to blame All do cheating, but life's no game Do I act like that, in fact? If yes, I think my mind just cracked.
0
Mar 20, 2015
Mar 20, 2015 at 12:20 PM UTC
Personalities
Dissociation: noun the disconnection or separation of something from something else or the state of being disconnected. CHEMISTRY the splitting of a molecule into smaller molecules, atoms, or ions, especially by a reversible process. PSYCHIATRY separation of normally related mental processes, resulting in one group functioning independently from the rest, leading in extreme cases to disorders such as multiple personality. Dissociation is not trendy. It’s not just depression or starring into space. It’s so much more It’s crawling away form reality and making a home in your head. Losing contact with your body. Dissociation is not knowing who you are. Dissociation is watching yourself in third person. Dissociation is feeling so scared that you’d rather loose yourself entirely then live in the present. Dissociation is not always multiple personalities but sometimes no personality. It’s losing time. It’s not recognizing those you love. It’s having little to no memory of anything that happened after the fifth grade. its knowing faces but not exactly sure where from. It’s a defense mechanism. It’s writing your name on the back of your hand to not completely lose all of you. 
It’s wearing a rubber band to snap yourself back because you have taught yourself to know when you are losing yourself It’s getting help, because you know in your very few lucid moments that this is not normal.
0
May 10, 2017
May 10, 2017 at 9:37 AM UTC
Dissociation
Who do you listen to you? Your heart or the people that have control of everything in your life.... 891 days. 891 more days of being the owner of opinions and ideas that will go unheard. 891 more nights of sleeping in a place that I will never own. 891 more days of being a guiding older sister, and an unfortunately human daughter (key word human). Yes I have ideas, I am my own person, and yes I want to do things. Listen to me and value my voiced ideas as you would any other, and I will respect you. Force me into a mold of someone I am not, I will return what you throw in my face. I have problems and I am free to decide what I will do with them. You can restrict my body, but I assure you, you will never control my thoughts; my mind. Actions and words are easy to forget, but feelings, emotions, ideas…what constitutes the being of a person, cannot be erased from the mind. And the beauty of the true feelings of an individual is the ability for one to be able to choose who to share their true form with. If now I cannot, fighting and prying at me will only close me off further from your grasp. I have many sides and many personalities if I don’t trust you I will put on a mask, and I will only remove it when trust is earned or my spirit breaks. 891 more days of useless titles. Brother, sister, father, mother; useless. There's a biological relationship, sure, but family is not made up of pure science. People you can trust communicate with, share ideas and feelings with; that instinct to help when you know when someone is hurting, this constitutes a family. Love. Love is not forced, love is not created; much like trust love is earned and grown over time. One cannot decide that today a family will be made…forcing communication will only drive people further apart. Love grows when the conditions are right and that requires probably the most valuable thing us humans will experience in our life, time. 891 days until I am free. 891 days until I can be me. 891 days to learn, to grow, to cry, to laugh, and learn to show… show people who I really am. But like I said, everything takes time.
0
Mar 16, 2013
Mar 16, 2013 at 6:55 PM UTC
891 Days
Who do you listen to you? Your heart or the people that have control of everything in your life.... 891 days. 891 more days of being the owner of opinions and ideas that will go unheard. 891 more nights of sleeping in a place that I will never own. 891 more days of being a guiding older sister, and an unfortunately human daughter (key word human). Yes I have ideas, I am my own person, and yes I want to do things. Listen to me and value my voiced ideas as you would any other, and I will respect you. Force me into a mold of someone I am not, I will return what you throw in my face. I have problems and I am free to decide what I will do with them. You can restrict my body, but I assure you, you will never control my thoughts; my mind. Actions and words are easy to forget, but feelings, emotions, ideas…what constitutes the being of a person, cannot be erased from the mind. And the beauty of the true feelings of an individual is the ability for one to be able to choose who to share their true form with. If now I cannot, fighting and prying at me will only close me off further from your grasp. I have many sides and many personalities if I don’t trust you I will put on a mask, and I will only remove it when trust is earned or my spirit breaks. 891 more days of useless titles. Brother, sister, father, mother; useless. There's a biological relationship, sure, but family is not made up of pure science. People you can trust communicate with, share ideas and feelings with; that instinct to help when you know when someone is hurting, this constitutes a family. Love. Love is not forced, love is not created; much like trust love is earned and grown over time. One cannot decide that today a family will be made…forcing communication will only drive people further apart. Love grows when the conditions are right and that requires probably the most valuable thing us humans will experience in our life, time. 891 days until I am free. 891 days until I can be me. 891 days to learn, to grow, to cry, to laugh, and learn to show… show people who I really am. But like I said, everything takes time.
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4
Take a look inside my home: I live in a Dream because Reality hurts leeched on by long tendrils and roots wrapping, resting around my nervous system that plant seeds in my mind, "She's so fly, perfectly alike, On the call, on the go for me, no questions asked. Our personalities bare and unmasked." *But only inside my head can this hopeless reality be watered.*
0
Nov 10, 2014
Nov 10, 2014 at 12:00 AM UTC
I live in a Dream because Reality hurts
You and I are a starry match. Astronomers throughout the ages have known why. According to them, you are quite the catch You are my darling Gemini. We are both always on the move, We both have multiple personalities, We two are like a bump and a groove. We both hate being brought down to a fake reality. A great match, deep down at heart. You and me, Gemini and Sagittarius, It’s a fantastic start. The only thing better is a ****** Aquarius. Oh, why did the angels cry? We are meant to be, you and I. From the heavens, we hear the exasperated sigh. We are meant to be, my loving sweet Gemini.
0
May 24, 2010
May 24, 2010 at 5:20 PM UTC
Gemini
There are some hotdog shaped dogs, They're weird, Seem made up. Nasty little creatures, Vicious, Rotten. Ironic in a way, Probably can't even **** without help, But they're fast, They have strong personalities. I've never met a hotdog Dog Who is not creepy, Their humans are weird too.
0
Nov 5, 2017
Nov 5, 2017 at 10:43 PM UTC
Hotdogs at the park
In society, Women are always told they are too much. Too angry, too calm Too quiet, too loud Too big, too small And we are all of these things We are angry. Angry about the internalized oppression that still flows on a day to day basis. We are angry about our predefined roles of what girl is, what girl should be. And we are too calm. Calm about the man that called you a name in the street and all you wanted to do was cry Or the teacher that told you you couldn't do what you wanted because it was a mans place, not a woman's You should have yelled, but you didn't. Because we are too calm. We are too quiet. We are silenced. Our opinions are ranked of worthiness by our physical features, our body types. Our intelligence is last to our ****** appeal. We can not be heard through the babble of social media judging and critiquing and pointing out our flaws. So we are quiet. And we are loud. We have the ability to speak for the world. To weave the revolution out of the words of women. We have the voice to speak to our sisters globally, teach women that we are loud. We can drown out prejudice with the power of voice and bring down the barrier of how a girl should be. We are small. Told that our personalities are preset by the gender normalities that the patriarchy has placed, we are shrunk to fit our predefined roles. They cut us into shapes so we can not realize that we are so much bigger. Because we are big. We are huge. We have global impact. While we are cut down, I would like to see us glue each other back together. I want to see women take back our voices. I want to hear women all over the world speak how they feel, bust through the barriers of what the patriarchy has told them. Fight back against their rapists, abusers, silencers. When someone tells you that you are being too much, say "I am. And I am becoming so much more."
0
Apr 10, 2016
Apr 10, 2016 at 9:34 PM UTC
We Are
In society, Women are always told they are too much. Too angry, too calm Too quiet, too loud Too big, too small And we are all of these things We are angry. Angry about the internalized oppression that still flows on a day to day basis. We are angry about our predefined roles of what girl is, what girl should be. And we are too calm. Calm about the man that called you a name in the street and all you wanted to do was cry Or the teacher that told you you couldn't do what you wanted because it was a mans place, not a woman's You should have yelled, but you didn't. Because we are too calm. We are too quiet. We are silenced. Our opinions are ranked of worthiness by our physical features, our body types. Our intelligence is last to our ****** appeal. We can not be heard through the babble of social media judging and critiquing and pointing out our flaws. So we are quiet. And we are loud. We have the ability to speak for the world. To weave the revolution out of the words of women. We have the voice to speak to our sisters globally, teach women that we are loud. We can drown out prejudice with the power of voice and bring down the barrier of how a girl should be. We are small. Told that our personalities are preset by the gender normalities that the patriarchy has placed, we are shrunk to fit our predefined roles. They cut us into shapes so we can not realize that we are so much bigger. Because we are big. We are huge. We have global impact. While we are cut down, I would like to see us glue each other back together. I want to see women take back our voices. I want to hear women all over the world speak how they feel, bust through the barriers of what the patriarchy has told them. Fight back against their rapists, abusers, silencers. When someone tells you that you are being too much, say "I am. And I am becoming so much more."
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21
A tug of war It is the past experience and what was saw and felt A word in keeping a person in line A restriction of one’s thoughts and actions A procedure in holding one back ******* being a form beyond one’s accord Thank God there is a Lord There is a chance to survive More than a thought being a strive I dream but all I see is a nightmare I see effort, but when will there be preserver? Its like a road block with detour A method of turn back I feel as if I am trapped in bonds Maybe I am still sleep and need to wake up from my yond Perhaps it’s nothing more than a dream It’s my thinking I am in a movie stream But its truly tough being rough A different slavery oppression of the past with a theory of the present A overseer continuing in present oppression A silenced voice having no expression The downward bound with no mountain reach It’s time for a rebellion approach Oppression is real and not a joke It’s like an open wound with having a stinging poke Oppression is alive and attempting to do well Yet the world has a message in tell ‘OPPRESS AND OVERCOME, ITS ABOUT NO MOVEMENT AND BEING NUMB. IT TAKES MULTITUDES IN SUPPLYING THE STRENGTH, BUT ALL MUST GO THE MILES NO MATTER WHAT THE LENGTH” Survival is how you chose to live Its not a verb but is subjective The voice must always be objective Oppression cannot continue in terms in having its way The sunrise has risen and it’s a tomorrow being a new day These are the times to move forward and be strong It’s a matter of all personalities of creeds in knowing how to get along So shake whatever chains you feel you have on Stand up and be counted where you belong Don’t let any form of oppression hold you back You have grasped the concept of understanding in the theory of thinking sharp being the detailed tack Just give oppression one big smack Listen America it’s the various cultures that stack Oppression stand back as you have been defeated being a pack.
0
Jan 23, 2016
Jan 23, 2016 at 5:18 PM UTC
OPPRESSION
A tug of war It is the past experience and what was saw and felt A word in keeping a person in line A restriction of one’s thoughts and actions A procedure in holding one back ******* being a form beyond one’s accord Thank God there is a Lord There is a chance to survive More than a thought being a strive I dream but all I see is a nightmare I see effort, but when will there be preserver? Its like a road block with detour A method of turn back I feel as if I am trapped in bonds Maybe I am still sleep and need to wake up from my yond Perhaps it’s nothing more than a dream It’s my thinking I am in a movie stream But its truly tough being rough A different slavery oppression of the past with a theory of the present A overseer continuing in present oppression A silenced voice having no expression The downward bound with no mountain reach It’s time for a rebellion approach Oppression is real and not a joke It’s like an open wound with having a stinging poke Oppression is alive and attempting to do well Yet the world has a message in tell ‘OPPRESS AND OVERCOME, ITS ABOUT NO MOVEMENT AND BEING NUMB. IT TAKES MULTITUDES IN SUPPLYING THE STRENGTH, BUT ALL MUST GO THE MILES NO MATTER WHAT THE LENGTH” Survival is how you chose to live Its not a verb but is subjective The voice must always be objective Oppression cannot continue in terms in having its way The sunrise has risen and it’s a tomorrow being a new day These are the times to move forward and be strong It’s a matter of all personalities of creeds in knowing how to get along So shake whatever chains you feel you have on Stand up and be counted where you belong Don’t let any form of oppression hold you back You have grasped the concept of understanding in the theory of thinking sharp being the detailed tack Just give oppression one big smack Listen America it’s the various cultures that stack Oppression stand back as you have been defeated being a pack.
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