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"pride" poems
I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz, or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off. I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul. I love you as the plant that never blooms but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers; thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance, risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body. I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride; so I love you because I know no other way than this: where I does not exist, nor you, so close that your hand on my chest is my hand, so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.
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827.2k
XVII (I do not love you...)
Humanity i love you because you would rather black the boots of success than enquire whose soul dangles from his watch-chain which would be embarrassing for both parties and because you unflinchingly applaud all songs containing the words country home and mother when sung at the old howard Humanity i love you because when you’re hard up you pawn your intelligence to buy a drink and when you’re flush pride keeps you from the pawn shop and because you are continually committing nuisances but more especially in your own house Humanity i love you because you are perpetually putting the secret of life in your pants and forgetting it’s there and sitting down on it and because you are forever making poems in the lap of death Humanity i hate you
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285.4k
Humanity I Love You
Like the heavens and the skies Like the deep seas so wide When I am confident and true When I have faith in you Colour me blue, colour me blue Like the royals of Great Britain Like the noble in truth and ambition In my wisdom, dignity and pride In my mystery and grandeur so wise Colour me purple, colour me purple Like fire and blood Like the intensity of a flood In my strength and passion In my desire, love and emotion Colour me red, colour me red Like the warmth of the tropics Like the sun, my daily tonic When I am determined and creative When I am happy and attractive Colour me orange, colour me orange Like a smile so warm Like joy even in a storm When I am cheerful and happy In my intellect, when I am savvy Colour me yellow, colour me yellow When I am all these and more When I am despised or adored With the colours of the rainbow With the colours that make me glow Colour me colours, colour me colours
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Apr 14, 2015
Apr 14, 2015 at 4:21 AM UTC
COLOUR ME COLOURS
I'm done repressing my gayness Because it's the "Christian" thing to do. I will wear ******* rainbow ****** pasties And march in a pride parade If I please And then go to church and praise Jesus And God and the Holy Spirit For making the way I am And how I am Because he made me perfect. I am gay I am Christian I am proud to be both.
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Jul 18, 2014
Jul 18, 2014 at 1:29 AM UTC
Gay Christian
I don't love you as if you were the salt-rose, topaz or arrow of carnations that propagate fire: I love you as certain dark things are loved, secretly, between the shadow and the soul. I love you as the plant that doesn't bloom and carries hidden within itself the light of those flowers, and thanks to your love, darkly in my body lives the dense fragrance that rises from the earth. I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where, I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you in this way because I don't know any other way of loving but this, in which there is no I or you, so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand, so intimate that when I fall asleep it is your eyes that close.
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49k
Sonnet XVII: Love
He was the ocean; handsome, but yet, Impulsively damaged. He had a sandy heart to correspond his sandy eyes, the moon dismantled that omitted pride he carried at a dead weight; shoveling and reshaping it, so people would see a sandcastle statue assembled in strength. But his washed-up soul and unannounced insecurities were aware of its genuine purpose, this beach alongside his pupils; quicksand, he'll sink so slowly in.  Waves in his hair like ripples on his cheeks, skipping stones land at his defeat, he left notes in bottles for you, sank multiple ships for you, because he hasn't the heart to say he's desiccating with the arrival of the stars.. Retracting scars are not too far from gasps for air,  foaming words of crisis by writing in the sand, signaling a light as the last one in him died. You wouldn't understand, the calm before the storm, as valve after valve puncture him. So intoxicating as it drains him, and from within, he's drying out. Sunburns stain him, a smile restrains him, in an inescapable drought--
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Jul 30, 2018
Jul 30, 2018 at 4:32 PM UTC
(Quick)Sandcastles
i remember the way your hair shined through the sunny day studying the way your eyes flutter every time you stutter the words you cant say i remember how pleasing your voice was beneath my ears i remember being with you washed away my fears do you remember the days where we used to lay in the shade? forming figures in the clouds having long conversations for hours nights where we stayed up late getting into stupid debates about who's right or wrong, picking out the right song to play over and over again. remember how we fought over stupid stuff? and even though times get rough, we'd just laugh it all up do you remember when we met in September? in english class where the hours didn't last and that's where it happened so fast creating memories that we thought would remain but all we created was pain and that was the last day i saw you. sitting on the bench with another girl my heart clenched cheeks tear-drenched my pride craving for revenge. listen darling, i just want you to remember from the beginning of september remember the long-lasting splendor the last moments of us being together because i remembered and dare i keep it in my heart forever.
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May 9, 2018
May 9, 2018 at 3:40 AM UTC
r e m e m b e r
Municipal Gum was written by Oodjeroo Noonecaal. Municipal Gum is about the changes in society and the tendency of people to want to control everything. Oodjeroo uses various techniques to convey this idea. At the beginning of the poem Oodjeroo is addressing the tree. This immediately creates empathy for both the tree and her people. By the last line she has emphasised this with the pronoun “us” to show that they suffer a similar fate. This poem expresses how life in Australia has changes especially for Aboriginal people. In the first half of the poem Oodjeroo is talking about how life was for her and others. It explores the changes in society and the displacement of the Aboriginal people from their land. “Whose head hung…Its hopelessness”, the author uses this as further re-iteration of the immorality of the situation and by the use of analogy comparing the tree to her people to further emphasise the shame and lack control of that the Europeans have inflicted upon her and the environment. Oodjeroo uses extended metaphor technique in the very first line of the poem ‘Hard bitumen around your feet’. This means that the gumtree has been placed in the city scape where it is suppressed and not allowed to spread out and be unique in its own way. This is clear and immanently direct link to the pain and suffering endured by the Aborigines post European settlement. Oodjeroo uses vivid language to present these ideas. For example the use of the word castrated is very effective. The connotation of the word is very demeaning. With castration often comes a sense of a loss of pride and power. The word castration is symbolic of how Oodjeroo feels the European have treated Aboriginal people and the environment. Castration also refers to the fact that what is done is done. Nothing can undo what they did and the damaged they have caused. Other symbolism includes the title “Municipal Gum”, municipal meaning community, implies that the gumtree belongs to the community. One of the vast differences between European and Aboriginal law is that Aboriginal people did not believe in the ownership of land or of animals and plants. Municipal Gum is a reference to the Europeans assumptions that everything is theirs to own and control. The rhetorical question, “O fellow citizen, What have they done to us?” is the conclusion of the implications that have been made throughout the poem. Oodjeroo, is advocating for her people and all things wronged by the controlling behaviour of the Europeans. Rhetorical questions are used to provoke thought and to stimulate a pre-determined response. “What have they done to us?” They have “castrated, broken… strapped and buckled” and ultimately changed things to a point that they cannot be fixed. In conclusion, Municipal Gum is a poem about the constrictions and change that the European invaders forced upon the Aboriginal community and the environment she believes that the Europeans have deemed themselves ever powerful and practice their power in a manner that is immoral.
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Sep 11, 2013
Sep 11, 2013 at 7:47 AM UTC
Municipal Gum
Municipal Gum was written by Oodjeroo Noonecaal. Municipal Gum is about the changes in society and the tendency of people to want to control everything. Oodjeroo uses various techniques to convey this idea. At the beginning of the poem Oodjeroo is addressing the tree. This immediately creates empathy for both the tree and her people. By the last line she has emphasised this with the pronoun “us” to show that they suffer a similar fate. This poem expresses how life in Australia has changes especially for Aboriginal people. In the first half of the poem Oodjeroo is talking about how life was for her and others. It explores the changes in society and the displacement of the Aboriginal people from their land. “Whose head hung…Its hopelessness”, the author uses this as further re-iteration of the immorality of the situation and by the use of analogy comparing the tree to her people to further emphasise the shame and lack control of that the Europeans have inflicted upon her and the environment. Oodjeroo uses extended metaphor technique in the very first line of the poem ‘Hard bitumen around your feet’. This means that the gumtree has been placed in the city scape where it is suppressed and not allowed to spread out and be unique in its own way. This is clear and immanently direct link to the pain and suffering endured by the Aborigines post European settlement. Oodjeroo uses vivid language to present these ideas. For example the use of the word castrated is very effective. The connotation of the word is very demeaning. With castration often comes a sense of a loss of pride and power. The word castration is symbolic of how Oodjeroo feels the European have treated Aboriginal people and the environment. Castration also refers to the fact that what is done is done. Nothing can undo what they did and the damaged they have caused. Other symbolism includes the title “Municipal Gum”, municipal meaning community, implies that the gumtree belongs to the community. One of the vast differences between European and Aboriginal law is that Aboriginal people did not believe in the ownership of land or of animals and plants. Municipal Gum is a reference to the Europeans assumptions that everything is theirs to own and control. The rhetorical question, “O fellow citizen, What have they done to us?” is the conclusion of the implications that have been made throughout the poem. Oodjeroo, is advocating for her people and all things wronged by the controlling behaviour of the Europeans. Rhetorical questions are used to provoke thought and to stimulate a pre-determined response. “What have they done to us?” They have “castrated, broken… strapped and buckled” and ultimately changed things to a point that they cannot be fixed. In conclusion, Municipal Gum is a poem about the constrictions and change that the European invaders forced upon the Aboriginal community and the environment she believes that the Europeans have deemed themselves ever powerful and practice their power in a manner that is immoral.
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9
You are beautiful No matter your size, skin color, religion or sexuality Don't ever let anyone doubt that Life would be boring without diversity You are beautiful and the lenght of your dress tonight doesn't justify anyone calling you a **** nor gives them permission to grab your tight Only you can give them consent And remember to say no is your right You are beautiful wear those strechmarks with pride They are perfectly normal and natural Don't look at them as flaws Your body is a miracle that you don't need to hide You are beautiful
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Mar 11, 2018
Mar 11, 2018 at 5:43 PM UTC
To all the women out there
for leather accrues The miracle of the streets The scents & smogs & pollens of existence Shiny blackness so totally naked she was Totally un-hung-up We looked around lights now on Top see our fellow travellers ~~~ I am troubled Immeasurably By your eyes I am struck By the feather of your soft Reply The sound of glass Speaks quick Disdain And conceals What your eyes fight To explain ~~~ She looked so sad in sleep Like a friendly hand just out of reach A candle stranded on a beach While the sun sinks low an H-bomb in reverse ~~~ Everything human is leaving her face Soon she will disappear into the calm vegetable morass Stay! My Wild Love! ~~~ I get my best ideas when the telephone rings & rings. It’s no fun To feel like a fool-when your baby’s gone. A new ax to my head: Possession. I create my own sword of Damascus. I’ve done nothing w/time. A little tot prancing the boards playing w/Revolution. When out there the World awaits & abounds w/heavy gangs of murderers & real madmen. Hanging from windows as if to say: I’m bold- do you love me? Just for tonight. A One Night Stand. A dog howls & whines at the glass sliding door (why can’t I be in there?) A cat yowls. A car engine revs & races against the grain- dry rasping carbon protest. I put the book down- & begin my own book. Love for the fat girl. When will SHE get here? ~~~ In the gloom In the shady living room where we lived & died & laughed & cried & the pride of our relationship took hold that summer What a trip To hold your hand & tell the cops you’re not 16 no runaway The wino left a little in the old blue desert bottle Cattle skulls the cliche of rats who skim the trees in search of fat Hip children invade the grounds & sleep in the wet grass ’til the dogs rush out I’m going South!
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40.3k
The American Night
for leather accrues The miracle of the streets The scents & smogs & pollens of existence Shiny blackness so totally naked she was Totally un-hung-up We looked around lights now on Top see our fellow travellers ~~~ I am troubled Immeasurably By your eyes I am struck By the feather of your soft Reply The sound of glass Speaks quick Disdain And conceals What your eyes fight To explain ~~~ She looked so sad in sleep Like a friendly hand just out of reach A candle stranded on a beach While the sun sinks low an H-bomb in reverse ~~~ Everything human is leaving her face Soon she will disappear into the calm vegetable morass Stay! My Wild Love! ~~~ I get my best ideas when the telephone rings & rings. It’s no fun To feel like a fool-when your baby’s gone. A new ax to my head: Possession. I create my own sword of Damascus. I’ve done nothing w/time. A little tot prancing the boards playing w/Revolution. When out there the World awaits & abounds w/heavy gangs of murderers & real madmen. Hanging from windows as if to say: I’m bold- do you love me? Just for tonight. A One Night Stand. A dog howls & whines at the glass sliding door (why can’t I be in there?) A cat yowls. A car engine revs & races against the grain- dry rasping carbon protest. I put the book down- & begin my own book. Love for the fat girl. When will SHE get here? ~~~ In the gloom In the shady living room where we lived & died & laughed & cried & the pride of our relationship took hold that summer What a trip To hold your hand & tell the cops you’re not 16 no runaway The wino left a little in the old blue desert bottle Cattle skulls the cliche of rats who skim the trees in search of fat Hip children invade the grounds & sleep in the wet grass ’til the dogs rush out I’m going South!
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86
When you love someone who doesn't love you back your world ends. When you love someone who doesn't love you back you keep pumping love. You are so oblivious and eager that you give them so much love. No matter what they won’t give it back. When you love someone who doesn't love you back. You feel nothing but absolute pain and sorrow. You feel like there nothing left except the love that won't be taken. Your love is so strong and there’s so much that it floods you. When you love someone who doesn't love you back. You feel hopeless because of all the love you gave this person and how much you'd do for love in return. You'd give them all the time in the world, all the love in the world. You still do this relentlessly even though they wont give you five minutes when you need that five minutes. Being in love with someone who doesn't love you back is a burning red pain. It's a pain like nothing else because no matter what you do, no matter what medicine or treatment you give to that pain it's still there. It's there when you see his face, hear his voice, remember his touch. It's always there. When you're in love with someone who doesn't love you back, you don't have to worry too much about them intentionally hurting you. That's because everything small memory you've over analyzed hits you across the face over and over. You're constantly hating yourself because this one person was so important to you and now he's gone. “I should've done..” “Why was I so..” “No wonder he doesn't..” Those thoughts are toxic and seizes up your body. When you're in love with someone who doesn't love you back, you get so ******* close to hating them. You hate that they've ripped you open, eaten you up and have left you to decay. You hate that they have let you hate yourself more than you could ever hate them. You hate them because of the things they gave you which weren't all good. And the things they stole. Like crying on their shoulders which they gave, but your pride they took. When you're in love with someone for the first time and they don't love you back, you never want to fall in love again. You never want attachments with anyone because of this substantial pain that is constantly there. You never want to kiss with love, talk with love, witness love. You never want love unless, it's that one person you love. That's the only thing that matters. Love had a horrible reputation, it's either make it or ******* break it. Not take it. When you're hurt by someone who can't feel pain, you wish you never fell in love. Never in lust, never started talking, never meeting. You wish you could erase their smell so you wouldn't ever have to think about why you remember it so well. You wish you can't vividly remember how their arms felt and how they were once so welcoming. When you love someone who doesn't love you back, you are pathetic. You cry in bed while replaying your first kiss, first date, the time you fell asleep together. You can remember every feeling from the first time you felt love to the first time your heart skipped a beat because, well, it was ending. You remember the goosebumps running down your back when you last touched his hand as you left his car. That was the last time you'd be in his car. And that was the last time you touched his leathery skin that was wet from your tears. And that was the last time he would know how much you loved him. You replay every memory over and over until they're worn out. And after they're worn out you can't ever get new ones. You love this person and you will for a long, long time. But they won't ever love you. They won’t get those stomach tickles when you hear their name. They wont miss having their chapped lips against your neck tickling you elegantly. Because to them that doesn't matter, they didn’t feel love. When you're in love with someone who doesn't love you back, it's almost impossible to stop loving them. No matter what you do. No matter what they did. No matter how it hurts. No matter what, you will love them. When you love someone who doesn’t love you back, you are incapable of stopping because you are paralyzed.
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Mar 24, 2017
Mar 24, 2017 at 9:59 PM UTC
When you love someone who doesn't love you back
When you love someone who doesn't love you back your world ends. When you love someone who doesn't love you back you keep pumping love. You are so oblivious and eager that you give them so much love. No matter what they won’t give it back. When you love someone who doesn't love you back. You feel nothing but absolute pain and sorrow. You feel like there nothing left except the love that won't be taken. Your love is so strong and there’s so much that it floods you. When you love someone who doesn't love you back. You feel hopeless because of all the love you gave this person and how much you'd do for love in return. You'd give them all the time in the world, all the love in the world. You still do this relentlessly even though they wont give you five minutes when you need that five minutes. Being in love with someone who doesn't love you back is a burning red pain. It's a pain like nothing else because no matter what you do, no matter what medicine or treatment you give to that pain it's still there. It's there when you see his face, hear his voice, remember his touch. It's always there. When you're in love with someone who doesn't love you back, you don't have to worry too much about them intentionally hurting you. That's because everything small memory you've over analyzed hits you across the face over and over. You're constantly hating yourself because this one person was so important to you and now he's gone. “I should've done..” “Why was I so..” “No wonder he doesn't..” Those thoughts are toxic and seizes up your body. When you're in love with someone who doesn't love you back, you get so ******* close to hating them. You hate that they've ripped you open, eaten you up and have left you to decay. You hate that they have let you hate yourself more than you could ever hate them. You hate them because of the things they gave you which weren't all good. And the things they stole. Like crying on their shoulders which they gave, but your pride they took. When you're in love with someone for the first time and they don't love you back, you never want to fall in love again. You never want attachments with anyone because of this substantial pain that is constantly there. You never want to kiss with love, talk with love, witness love. You never want love unless, it's that one person you love. That's the only thing that matters. Love had a horrible reputation, it's either make it or ******* break it. Not take it. When you're hurt by someone who can't feel pain, you wish you never fell in love. Never in lust, never started talking, never meeting. You wish you could erase their smell so you wouldn't ever have to think about why you remember it so well. You wish you can't vividly remember how their arms felt and how they were once so welcoming. When you love someone who doesn't love you back, you are pathetic. You cry in bed while replaying your first kiss, first date, the time you fell asleep together. You can remember every feeling from the first time you felt love to the first time your heart skipped a beat because, well, it was ending. You remember the goosebumps running down your back when you last touched his hand as you left his car. That was the last time you'd be in his car. And that was the last time you touched his leathery skin that was wet from your tears. And that was the last time he would know how much you loved him. You replay every memory over and over until they're worn out. And after they're worn out you can't ever get new ones. You love this person and you will for a long, long time. But they won't ever love you. They won’t get those stomach tickles when you hear their name. They wont miss having their chapped lips against your neck tickling you elegantly. Because to them that doesn't matter, they didn’t feel love. When you're in love with someone who doesn't love you back, it's almost impossible to stop loving them. No matter what you do. No matter what they did. No matter how it hurts. No matter what, you will love them. When you love someone who doesn’t love you back, you are incapable of stopping because you are paralyzed.
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13
My mother taught me purple Although she never wore it. Wash-grey was her circle, The tenement her orbit. My mother taught me golden And held me up to see it, Above the broken moldings, Beyond the filthy street. My mother reached for beauty And for its lack she died, Who knew so much of duty She could not teach me pride.
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Oct 17, 2012
Oct 17, 2012 at 10:32 PM UTC
Taught me purple by Evelyn tooley hunt
African woman Mother of civilization. Oh beautiful woman, Thou are beyond description. African woman Queen of the people of Mamba. Jambo to all those in heaven Bless you too my dear mama. African woman Royal Nubian Queen. The backbone of her man You'll do anything to help him win. Single Black woman Made of broken pieces You're the breadwinner,Superwoman. You're the symbol of strength in all places. African woman Daughter of Eve's. Thou are God's true specimen, And the apple of his eyes. Black woman Daughter of Africa. Blueprint of a **** woman, Dark hue of coffee arabica. African woman Mother of humanity Chieftess of ancient Nyngoman, Mama Africa's bounty. African woman My Mandingo bride. First woman of Africa's Eden Center of God's black tribe. Nigerian woman My Yoruba Queen. Envied by the women of Oman, Cafe ou lair, cream of Africa's cream! Warrior woman, Queen of Wakanda. Come and flip your wand, Find the soul of Sarafina. Curvy woman In your womb lies Africa's future. My Lormah woman Oyobuays marvels at your structure. Beautiful woman, Perpetual envy of the silicon woman. Pride of the Black man, The essence of a real woman. Indigo Woman Lillies of the African plains. Thou are Eve of the African Eden, Best of the portraits that nature paints. Voluptous woman, Full, thick natural lips. Real assert of the Black woman, Nature gets aroused by your hips. Ellen Sirleaf, today's woman, Africa's first female president. A Liberian woman, Loved and revered wherever she went. Smile ,Gambian woman, You're daughter of Sarakunda. Roots of the Black American woman, Captives of the kanda Bolinga. South African woman Mariam Makeba Sang for freedom and fought like a man You were truly Soweto's finest Deva. Dark ebony woman, You are red, yellow and green. Hanmatan wind stops at your command, Born to slay and be seen. African woman Thou are the only reason God put Adam in a coma. Your perpetual beauty transcends time and Season. African woman, Under your cleavage, the Nile flows And between your fingers, golden threads are woven, You are the reason Beyonce glows. Harriet Tubman, brave woman Smuggled slaves underground. She was a freed Black slave woman, Who avowed to leave no soul behind. Creative woman Maya Angelou, gifted poetess. Famous writer and a Black woman Will be remembered for her poetic prowess. Native African woman, Africa's limestone and cement. A mother, a wife, virtuous woman, Lioness and the spine of the continent. Liberian woman Roots of my poetry, you gave me life You are every woman. Your edges are sharper than the Sumarais knife. #IvanBrookspoetry© 13/8/2018
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Aug 13, 2018
Aug 13, 2018 at 4:56 AM UTC
African Woman
African woman Mother of civilization. Oh beautiful woman, Thou are beyond description. African woman Queen of the people of Mamba. Jambo to all those in heaven Bless you too my dear mama. African woman Royal Nubian Queen. The backbone of her man You'll do anything to help him win. Single Black woman Made of broken pieces You're the breadwinner,Superwoman. You're the symbol of strength in all places. African woman Daughter of Eve's. Thou are God's true specimen, And the apple of his eyes. Black woman Daughter of Africa. Blueprint of a **** woman, Dark hue of coffee arabica. African woman Mother of humanity Chieftess of ancient Nyngoman, Mama Africa's bounty. African woman My Mandingo bride. First woman of Africa's Eden Center of God's black tribe. Nigerian woman My Yoruba Queen. Envied by the women of Oman, Cafe ou lair, cream of Africa's cream! Warrior woman, Queen of Wakanda. Come and flip your wand, Find the soul of Sarafina. Curvy woman In your womb lies Africa's future. My Lormah woman Oyobuays marvels at your structure. Beautiful woman, Perpetual envy of the silicon woman. Pride of the Black man, The essence of a real woman. Indigo Woman Lillies of the African plains. Thou are Eve of the African Eden, Best of the portraits that nature paints. Voluptous woman, Full, thick natural lips. Real assert of the Black woman, Nature gets aroused by your hips. Ellen Sirleaf, today's woman, Africa's first female president. A Liberian woman, Loved and revered wherever she went. Smile ,Gambian woman, You're daughter of Sarakunda. Roots of the Black American woman, Captives of the kanda Bolinga. South African woman Mariam Makeba Sang for freedom and fought like a man You were truly Soweto's finest Deva. Dark ebony woman, You are red, yellow and green. Hanmatan wind stops at your command, Born to slay and be seen. African woman Thou are the only reason God put Adam in a coma. Your perpetual beauty transcends time and Season. African woman, Under your cleavage, the Nile flows And between your fingers, golden threads are woven, You are the reason Beyonce glows. Harriet Tubman, brave woman Smuggled slaves underground. She was a freed Black slave woman, Who avowed to leave no soul behind. Creative woman Maya Angelou, gifted poetess. Famous writer and a Black woman Will be remembered for her poetic prowess. Native African woman, Africa's limestone and cement. A mother, a wife, virtuous woman, Lioness and the spine of the continent. Liberian woman Roots of my poetry, you gave me life You are every woman. Your edges are sharper than the Sumarais knife. #IvanBrookspoetry© 13/8/2018
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98
*Lord, let them see me as a fool If only You’ll undo me Take pride and self and rights away But beckon me come to Thee If failing is what humbles me If falling is what breaks me Then let me fall and fail and faint Just come, possess and take me You are the One my soul desires There is none other for me So bring the storms, the trials, the woes For in those best I know Thee You see the pain my heart requires To mold and make me like Thee So send the fires which please You most I will not fear what strikes me I trust Your goodness and Your grace They shall not ever fail me You hide my life safe in Your grasp Though hell’s worst fiends assail me You’ve chosen me as Your own child A treasure ‘cause You found me You’ve named me Your beloved bride With glory You’ll soon crown me!*
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Jan 15, 2016
Jan 15, 2016 at 3:39 PM UTC
Blessed Brokenness
There's a door In life Its open to all Who wish to walk through It leads to happiness And a better you But to get to the other side There's a decision to make A choice to decide Sometimes there's a sacrifice Sometimes there's pain But in life Without losing there's no gain It's give and take It's love and loss Just a random gamble Gotta give the dice a toss Because in the end It's not what you had Or the money you made It's what in your heart Even after your body fades With every scary part And every gory detail Doing what feels right Decides wether you win Or fail Walk through the door Get to the other side It's worth it all Forget your **** pride Choose happiness And true morality Nothing means more than family Love and loyalty
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Jun 4, 2014
Jun 4, 2014 at 2:56 AM UTC
Love and Loyalty
#*When all of worldly beauty's lost When form and face have borne the cost Of life's sojourn upon this earth A greater glory then springs forth When vanity is cast aside With long-dashed dreams and fallen pride At last a better hope I see One anchored in eternity When no one gives a second glance Or offers promise of romance I know the One whose love is true Who looks beyond what most men do When wit and charm have fled from thought And company's no longer sought There's still One friend who longs to hear My every word, desire and fear When awkwardness is more the rule Than competence and being cool His words I hear so gently spoken, "Come, poor in spirit and all who are broken." When those around me criticize With disapproval in their eyes He spreads His arms with full embrace And wears acceptance on His face When kindred spirit can't be found And understanding's wayward bound The One who knows me best will be Thinking precious thoughts toward me When foot is slipping, mind astray From trying to fix things my own way He rescues me with hourly grace And sets me in a spacious place When all my naught attempts at fame Lie crushed beneath a weight of shame I seek the fame of Him instead Who calls my name and lifts my head When youth and vigor fade away And triumph seems an ancient day My strength can rest in One who brings Fresh power to soar on eagle's wings When my last breath some day I take Death's shadowed crossing, hence, to make Upon Christ's nail-scarred feet I'll fall To kiss that One who is my ALL*#
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Dec 31, 2015
Dec 31, 2015 at 5:56 PM UTC
A Greater Glory
#*When all of worldly beauty's lost When form and face have borne the cost Of life's sojourn upon this earth A greater glory then springs forth When vanity is cast aside With long-dashed dreams and fallen pride At last a better hope I see One anchored in eternity When no one gives a second glance Or offers promise of romance I know the One whose love is true Who looks beyond what most men do When wit and charm have fled from thought And company's no longer sought There's still One friend who longs to hear My every word, desire and fear When awkwardness is more the rule Than competence and being cool His words I hear so gently spoken, "Come, poor in spirit and all who are broken." When those around me criticize With disapproval in their eyes He spreads His arms with full embrace And wears acceptance on His face When kindred spirit can't be found And understanding's wayward bound The One who knows me best will be Thinking precious thoughts toward me When foot is slipping, mind astray From trying to fix things my own way He rescues me with hourly grace And sets me in a spacious place When all my naught attempts at fame Lie crushed beneath a weight of shame I seek the fame of Him instead Who calls my name and lifts my head When youth and vigor fade away And triumph seems an ancient day My strength can rest in One who brings Fresh power to soar on eagle's wings When my last breath some day I take Death's shadowed crossing, hence, to make Upon Christ's nail-scarred feet I'll fall To kiss that One who is my ALL*#
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44
bite into my soul and taste your dirt, inflict upon me your rules of hurt. make a wish in the fountain of blood, take a sip and you shall conquer the world. hang me for all the world to see, even in my death i shall walk free. show me the strength of your crown, let me be chased by your blood hounds. cut me and scar me, burn me to the ground, why walk straight when the world's 'round. lock me in a cage so i cannot leave, even in these walls i shall walk free. burn my skin to reach my soul, why break walls when you see no door ? come inside, take away all i know, feed my hatred by hating me some more. erase me so i could never be, even in my extinction i shall walk free. tie my hands and give me a blade, tell me who my enemies are and war shall be made. whisper to me the words that degrade, and i'll scream them at the world, as i fade. **** the lullabies so i can never dream, even in my nightmares i shall walk free. now take my hand and lead me to paradise, fire of hell blowing through the kingdom of ice. sit on your throne and try to swallow your pride, for this slave will never be yours, he's the master of his own life. hang me for all the world to see, even in my death i shall walk free.
0
Apr 2, 2014
Apr 2, 2014 at 12:55 PM UTC
Rebel
Is that what we wake up to every day? Fast food and gas stations are forever stamped in the corners of my eyes as they are looking through the glass of minimum wage to the red flashing lights of a man hoping to get back to his children safely. Is life is a pointed dagger then my blade is rusted and dull when I wonder why I even try some days. Do I dare defend my pride and still demand something more than this? Is this a call for engines in the air or wings made of wax? Death would be more alive than waking up to another day of shampoo commercials and microwave dinners. You are always whispering in my ear though dear and telling me that you're more than just a particle flown into my imagination from a world so oh very different than ours. Are your eyes as bright as I imagine? Will the glare from them blind me from the tax collectors whip and will your laughter drown out the screams of onlookers who are throwing peanuts through the bars at my feet? Will your kiss melt me and cause me to fall into wind like leaves in a storm, a tornado of color and beauty..? I lay in bed and my eyes close tightly, my breathing slows and thoughts drip into pits men drown themselves in, the murky waters of nihilistic cynicism... Though my hand will still not be closed around yours when the sun rises, the whisper lets me know you are still awake and searching for me too...
0
Nov 15, 2012
Nov 15, 2012 at 2:23 PM UTC
Whisper
I Don't Average Out I remember crying during lunch my senior year — my math teacher's eyebrows colliding, one plane folding into a fractal. He had sat there, nearly four years, watching me struggle through an unreal number of numbers — literally and figuratively — while again and again the test scores whispered: You are less than average. But behind the eyes of a determined man my insecurities never won. He refused to believe the numbers. He was searching for some unspoken meaning — and so was I. I almost found it the day of graduation. I almost found it between his eyebrows, creased like a point of pride — because I was the first of my family to hold something as light as a diploma instead of a heavy head, nodding under the weight of ****** The first to feel like a feather instead of a six-pack, a bad back, the slow grind of manual labor. I was flying. Then college tried to land me. Again I let an institution measure me. Test scores trying to tell me what I was worth — intelligence reduced to something too narrow to understand its own diversity. Less than average, they said. But I wasn't below the line — I was just outside it. An individual above their point of comparison. I could read a room like a text. I could build connection out of nothing. I could debate, move, make people feel something. Gold doesn't average out either. So I learned — it wasn't the diploma I should have chased. Not the thing I'd wave at my little brothers and sisters to show them how to live better, burn brighter, burn longer. Here I am. Red-faced and unafraid. Spoken word was always there — hiding between the creases of my teacher's brow, folded into the question I didn't know I was asking. The answer was never in his book. It was in his look. In his refusal to quit on me. I could have found it sooner if I'd known what I was searching for. I am not stupid. I haven't failed by choosing something the institution doesn't recognize. I am not defined by a score, a line, a rule, a rhyme. I don't average out — and that is not a weakness. Power isn't in a piece of paper. Power is in your words. In your chosen behavior. In the silence you finally break. The answer was never in his textbook — it was in his persistence. In the way he looked at me like the numbers were wrong. He just didn't have the words to say it. But I do.
0
Oct 30, 2013
Oct 30, 2013 at 2:16 PM UTC
I Don't Average Out
I Don't Average Out I remember crying during lunch my senior year — my math teacher's eyebrows colliding, one plane folding into a fractal. He had sat there, nearly four years, watching me struggle through an unreal number of numbers — literally and figuratively — while again and again the test scores whispered: You are less than average. But behind the eyes of a determined man my insecurities never won. He refused to believe the numbers. He was searching for some unspoken meaning — and so was I. I almost found it the day of graduation. I almost found it between his eyebrows, creased like a point of pride — because I was the first of my family to hold something as light as a diploma instead of a heavy head, nodding under the weight of ****** The first to feel like a feather instead of a six-pack, a bad back, the slow grind of manual labor. I was flying. Then college tried to land me. Again I let an institution measure me. Test scores trying to tell me what I was worth — intelligence reduced to something too narrow to understand its own diversity. Less than average, they said. But I wasn't below the line — I was just outside it. An individual above their point of comparison. I could read a room like a text. I could build connection out of nothing. I could debate, move, make people feel something. Gold doesn't average out either. So I learned — it wasn't the diploma I should have chased. Not the thing I'd wave at my little brothers and sisters to show them how to live better, burn brighter, burn longer. Here I am. Red-faced and unafraid. Spoken word was always there — hiding between the creases of my teacher's brow, folded into the question I didn't know I was asking. The answer was never in his book. It was in his look. In his refusal to quit on me. I could have found it sooner if I'd known what I was searching for. I am not stupid. I haven't failed by choosing something the institution doesn't recognize. I am not defined by a score, a line, a rule, a rhyme. I don't average out — and that is not a weakness. Power isn't in a piece of paper. Power is in your words. In your chosen behavior. In the silence you finally break. The answer was never in his textbook — it was in his persistence. In the way he looked at me like the numbers were wrong. He just didn't have the words to say it. But I do.
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80
You are my soulmate my one true love. Your beauty is radiant like a morning dove. You fill me with joy, you fill me with pride together we go along for this ride. This life that we cherish, that we hold so dear, together we live with love not fear.
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Jun 12, 2012
Jun 12, 2012 at 2:27 AM UTC
My loving dove
People stare at me with confused eyes They ask to know where my secret lies They wonder where I found my gait They love the way I articulate The softness of my arms My captivating youthful charm: This is my woman The woman I have become All these and more, are my woman I walk with a quirky poise People whisper, and it's a delightful noise The smile on my lips The curve of my hips They say I've always been this cool But honey, do not be fooled: This is my woman The woman I have become All these and more, are my woman They see fire in my eyes They say I'm for keeps 'cause I'm a prize There is a grace in my vibes Something good to imbibe The warmth I bring The joy I bring: This is my woman The woman I have become All these and more, are my woman There is something about me How did I come to be? The reason behind my womanly pride The reason for my sedate stride My aura, as that of a beloved emperor My shoulders high like that of a conqueror: This is my woman The woman I have become All these and more, are my woman They say I am a mystery There's definitely more to me In the stillness of my mind In the presence of my kind I become more of the woman I am meant to be The best of me you are yet to see: This is my woman The woman I have become All these and more, are my woman
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Apr 14, 2015
Apr 14, 2015 at 3:29 AM UTC
I AM MY WOMAN
As the glorious LION Stands strong in stature Radiating with a presence Of Absolute rule The air washed with A bristly respect A natural pride Beams with  beauty He guards the gateway to truth and only the brave may enter He is the king that needs no crown as he holds a royal presence as he sits in his golden coat and main Lies spark combust just bounce off dissolve in all his shine. As broken men become renewed Their fractured parts Collect in the melting *** Of the Lion's  stare As they are engulfed and swallowed In the reservoirs of his strength As the many wounded souls Find themselves restored In his majestic presence As he rattles the very fabric Of this world There is no procrastinating belly Exposed by a lackluster display No one insults his strength By creating a make believe world Or covers him with scaffolding so That they may alter him For he is the finished article And he is never held up or supported With anyone's emotional ropes or strings For he no ones puppet He is never silenced By the Strangle hold of this world Tightened with a multitude of gestures For I hear his ROAR!!!!!!!! His explosive self expression As his throat bursts and beams like the sun Breaking all collars, and his tongue is freed As a thousand trap doors Open up in him   And boulders are lifted and rocks are shattered within the sound of his voice. His Soft pads of silent stealth Gather for all his wealth As the power of his pounce Is governed by both his strength Of spirit and the honesty With which he meets the earth For he owns all of his own pain And paces and growls to warn Away any who seek to steal his fresh **** And diminish him with pretty lies For he owns all his space As it feeds his strength As somewhere in the fury of feasting Lionesses and Lions   We find our freedom For his power explodes like a volcano When his soul meets the earth   As he shakes off all avoidance To seek only truth As streaks of white light And pure Gold glisten in the SUN As the world's projections Reflect and bounce off him There is so much to learn From a beautiful LION
0
Aug 5, 2014
Aug 5, 2014 at 8:17 PM UTC
LION
As the glorious LION Stands strong in stature Radiating with a presence Of Absolute rule The air washed with A bristly respect A natural pride Beams with  beauty He guards the gateway to truth and only the brave may enter He is the king that needs no crown as he holds a royal presence as he sits in his golden coat and main Lies spark combust just bounce off dissolve in all his shine. As broken men become renewed Their fractured parts Collect in the melting *** Of the Lion's  stare As they are engulfed and swallowed In the reservoirs of his strength As the many wounded souls Find themselves restored In his majestic presence As he rattles the very fabric Of this world There is no procrastinating belly Exposed by a lackluster display No one insults his strength By creating a make believe world Or covers him with scaffolding so That they may alter him For he is the finished article And he is never held up or supported With anyone's emotional ropes or strings For he no ones puppet He is never silenced By the Strangle hold of this world Tightened with a multitude of gestures For I hear his ROAR!!!!!!!! His explosive self expression As his throat bursts and beams like the sun Breaking all collars, and his tongue is freed As a thousand trap doors Open up in him   And boulders are lifted and rocks are shattered within the sound of his voice. His Soft pads of silent stealth Gather for all his wealth As the power of his pounce Is governed by both his strength Of spirit and the honesty With which he meets the earth For he owns all of his own pain And paces and growls to warn Away any who seek to steal his fresh **** And diminish him with pretty lies For he owns all his space As it feeds his strength As somewhere in the fury of feasting Lionesses and Lions   We find our freedom For his power explodes like a volcano When his soul meets the earth   As he shakes off all avoidance To seek only truth As streaks of white light And pure Gold glisten in the SUN As the world's projections Reflect and bounce off him There is so much to learn From a beautiful LION
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When the darkness comes. I will be waiting for it. With my eyes open wide. With my soul still pure. And with my soul still intact. I will fight with pride. With no going back. I will try not to fall. I will stand my ground. Never bow down my head. Let the darkness engulf me. For my lady's light glows. Her love gives me strength. Against the impossible odds. Showing me the way.
0
Oct 7, 2009
Oct 7, 2009 at 4:32 AM UTC
When The Darkness Comes
Trying my best To progress There is only do Or do not Yoda thought So most of the time We fought I’ve got anger Issues Many birthdays I’ve wished you In all my hearts pain I miss you You’re not quite Who I knew We used to Chill with brew Remember the time We flew? We argued then too Across the country And it’s all we could do Here I go again Trying to scrape this **** off my shoe My heat is turning For flight I’m yearning The sun is hot My wings are burning I’ve got warrior feet At the road ahead I’ll be turning Run or fly I’ll chase the sky Metaphorically Astrophysically My physical being seems to limit me This fool in my bed won’t Give me matrimony If this was Salem I’d burn at the stake No matter what era You take pride In the hearts you break The years you take The lies you make The least you can do Is own your **** 2 woman gone mad there’s a pattern  here You’ve got to admit Wait where did the charm go Where’s that wit? Even Letty said She couldn’t trust your *** for **** Apparently you ****** her sister And ****** some old lady’s **** Even when he’s got it made Angel turned demon throws his shade Should you call you the devil From hell you came I’ve stooped to your level And only I’m to blame
0
Jun 28, 2018
Jun 28, 2018 at 1:54 PM UTC
What a *****
Corruption! Corruption! Corruption! Where is corruption? Seems tone up statesmen notion Co-ordinate with gallantry pride exploration, Somewhere scholar's voice explosion Solicit grant for idle generation. Corruption! Corruption! Corruption! What is corruption? Working against the soul corruption, Earning money overdose corruption; Kissing beloved on road corruption Homosexuality in India corruption. Corruption! Corruption! Corruption! How to eliminate corruption? Agitation, law, dialect and compulsion. Could not minimize absolute tension. To eradicate this sensitive passion, Must regulate spiritual diversion.
0
Jun 4, 2013
Jun 4, 2013 at 2:56 AM UTC
Corruption