Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
L A Lamb Sep 2014
Friday, August 01, 2014, Buttes-Chaumont Parc, Paris, France.



Why do I need feminism? We all have our reasons. We all have our stories. Let me tell you about my day:



I was sitting on a hill in the grass at Buttes-Chaumont park, a lovely historical area in Paris. I wanted to be relatively by myself so I could write in peace and smoke without drawing attention to myself. I’m sitting, book in my lap, a pen and cig between my fingers, when I am approached by a man. My main concern was determining whether or not he was the po-lice, but he had no characteristics of cops. He appeared emotionally stable and had good hygiene so I wasn’t too uncertain, (isn’t it kind of bad how we judge people on that stuff?), still, I wondered what he wanted, dreading having to talk to someone when I was merely trying to write in peace. I figured he was going to ask me for something to smoke.



He didn’t. Instead, he asked if he could sit by me. I look around and scan all the other vacant spaces he could sit instead, making it obvious that there was plenty of room to sit instead of right the **** next to me. It’s a pretty big park. “Si ca ta derange pas?” I wasn’t planning on staying long anyway, but I knew he wouldn’t be dangerous as there were many families and couples and runners and walkers, old friends and young kids playing. I felt safe enough, and he seemed harmless. I figured if anything, I could practice my French, which was always nice.



I said okay. He sat, and for a moment we sat in silence. I made myself a sandwich with baguette and cheese and offered him some. He politely declined. We started talking.



I asked if he was Parisian, and he told me he lived there for a while but was from Afrique. I didn’t catch which country, but I don’t think he specified which region. He asked about me, and I told him I was American, born in DC, but I came to France every so often and it was my first language. We talked about travel. We talked about the chaos in the Middle East, and how it was prophesized in scripture. He told me he was Muslim. I told him I wasn’t religious.



I told him I acknowledged the importance of texts, but I believe our ability to think has evolved in 2000 years and we have more information now than we did then. I told him there was too much life and I could not fit it all into one magic being which sprinkled glitter and said “Let there be” and we were created. I told him I really liked the Asian philosophies of Buddhism and Daoism. We talked about peace. We talked about Human Rights and the beauty of diversity, and how marvelous it was people could live among another in peace.



I said it was cool, and I even said it was cool that even as a black man in Europe and an Arab-American woman, we could talk freely without hostility and social division. We talked about closed-mindedness and Conservativism. I explained cognitive dissonance contributing to conflict, generated by opposing views and resistance/reluctance to consider new ideas. We talked about Psychology. I told him I was a writer and I told him about Cabaret Populaire in Belleville and the poetry community in Paris. I told him I love Paris. We talked again about travel.



He told me he was in Germany last weekend, and I told him I was in Langen Tuesday night. He told me he always wanted to go to the U.S.A. We talked about immigration. We talked about the American Dream. We talked about money. I told him I was proposed to the last time I was in Lebanon. We talked about reasons people marry. I reminded him today was the first of August, which meant I’d been with my boyfriend for two months. We talked about love. We talked about monogamy, polyamory and infidelity. We talked about Islam. We talked about racism.



We were sitting there talking for an hour or so, which I was especially grateful for, because besides having an interesting conversation I was able to speak in French for all of it, as he did not speak English (apparently he spoke German, though). I stood up to leave and told him “Enchanté,” but before I started walking off he motioned for me to look at his phone. I was wondering if he was trying to add me on Facebook or follow me on Instagram or something, but I am instead confronted by a picture on his screen of him laying on his back on a bed, with an ***** ***** as the focal point.



Furious, I asked him “Pourquoi tu ma montre ca?! J’ai pas demande a voir ca!”



The stupid smile on his face disappeared and was replaced by a look of slight hurt, confusion, and surprise.

“Bordelle! C’est dommage—mais c’est ca—des hommes et femmes ne peuvent pas parler normalment, vraiment!”



And for the vile words I wanted to spout, I scoffed instead, too much of a lady to shout or get emotional, but I made sure to call him out and stand my ground, exuding negative energy and making it clear with my few words that that was not okay.



I gave no impression of interest in seeing his ****, so why did he do that? Even if he thought I might want to (hell never) he should have heard me ask or vocally say “yes, you can do that.” However, I did not ask; there were no prompts, hints, innuendos or even suggestive, flirty phrasing that would serve as an indication of ****** interest on my behalf.



I don’t want to be cynical and assume all guys are perverts and avoid any conversation because I’m not a rude person (generally). I’m not sexist. I value conversations and friendships with people without emphasis of gender importance. I try not to assume that everyone is sketchy or has ****** up motives. Some people just want to talk.



I wasn’t going to blatantly ignore or dismiss him because he was a man, nor because he was black, foreign, or Muslim. But where the hell is he from that he was socialized and thought that was appropriate or wanted?

I did not ask. The worst part is that he seemed like a genuinely alright person, but then he had to ruin it by whipping out a **** pic. Gross. What’s even more gross is the sense of entitlement he had, thinking it was acceptable to do that. You are a stranger. And I don’t want to see your ******, you disgusting *******.



I really don’t like assuming **** about people or making generalizations. I’m not going to assimilate one ****** with every group they are assigned to and stereotype against every person of that respective group. But fuckkkk. It’s annoying and disappointing that what I thought was a pleasant talk and exchange of ideas with a friendly stranger was actually a plot to show me his ****. ****.



The moral of this story is to say why feminism is needed, because this happens to people every day. If you still need further assistance understanding, please allow me to elaborate:



1)      I need feminism because it allows me to stand up for myself and feel confident about stating that I’m uncomfortable with unwanted behaviors and I’m not going to tolerate them.



These behaviors include, but are not limited to:



1)      Showing me **** pics

2)      Assuming it’s okay to show a girl you met not even an hour ago a **** pic (Do not even say it’s because of a culture difference, because I know of Frenchies who don’t do that)

3)      Approaching me because I’m sitting alone (I accepted that because I assumed he wasn’t going to violate my mind like that (good thing I don’t have photographic memory) but I didn’t wave over and say “Hey, you look friendly! Come over and talk to me!”)

4)      Asking me how serious things are with my boyfriend

5)      Asking me about my bisexuality—only to invalidate it

6)      Assigning me behavior expectations because of my gender

7)      Trying to control the way I do or do not reproduce

8)      Expecting me to behave a certain way because of my sexuality

9)      Judging me based on my sexuality

10)  Openly discriminating against people and expecting me to be okay with prejudice

11)  Using racist terms… because you’re a racist

12)  Dehumanizing the oppressed





Because I don’t know what you studied about it (wait—most people who disagree with feminism haven’t and are completely misinformed) but:



Feminism is about equality, and it doesn’t feel very equal when I show someone respect but I get no respect in return. And if you associate feminism with fauxminism and misandry, please educate yourself. (If I had Tumblr still, you better believe I would’ve already posted this). To quote the great words of Jay in Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back: "Remember, don’t whip your **** out unless she asks."
Skaidrum Dec 2015
...
['ärbədər']
ar·bi·ter <noun>
Winter's favorite judge.
Trial is held with the witness.

⌭ ⌭ ⌭

⍤  Trustworthy ⍤
"Do you know what month it is?"
December growls in seven octaves
"Growls?"
In demon tongue
"About who?"
The she wolf of porcelain night
"The She-wolf...?"
Can't you hear it?
"Hear what?"
The ashes on the walls
"What ashes?"
Sinful choices that need to be cleansed
"Why do they need to be cleansed?"
They drunk my last cup of gold

⍤  Confession ⍤
"What happened to the wolf?"
She chased the seventh house of Cancer
"Cancer?"
The traitorous stars in heaven
"Why?"
She loved him more
"Who?"
The man who could talk the sun into setting
"So she left you?"
Among the valley of mirrors and chess
"Mirrors and chess?"
So I could see I was a pawn

⍤ Treason ⍤
"Did you lover her?"
Down to the wreckage in my bones
"I don't understand."
My soul has fallen ill
"Are you sick?"
Of that blue sink
"What blue sink?"
Look over there, in the corner
"What about it?"
My reflection on blood is quite frightening this evening

⍤  Rectify ⍤
"Do you understand why you're here?"
Father winter needed a suicidal witness
"How did you know?"
The oaken spider prophesized it
"A spider...?"
On the lips of candor and death he spoke
"What was his prophecy?"
Three treasures summon the ill-spirited wolf
"What do you mean?"
One bite from the golden fruit is tragedy
"What tragedy?"
Two drinks from the fountain of youth is treason
"You're not answering me."
Do you know what the third treasure was?
"Enlighten me."
The last breath of the moon

⍤ Final Judgment ⍤
"Do you regret anything?"
The pity screaming from those volcanic eyes
"Pity..."
Her apologies left marks on my willow tree
"Are you ready to accept her punishment for her?"
Yes, I owe her a favor
"Any last words, Alunakira?"
Tell her to never forget
"Forget what?"
How the truth killed me

⌭ ⌭ ⌭

Execution; Successful.
Mark the wolf's sin as resolved.

['ärbədər']
ar·bi·ter <noun>
...
© Copywrite Skaidrum

How long wilt thou - this generation of deceit and joy – detain,
Starve, and defraud the people of our holiest reign?
Content ingloriously wasted to pass by as our falling days,
Like the flooding rains, as virtuous fools chase each other’s praise:
Till all thy fleshly allegories, now dimmed once shined so bright
As the multitudes grow stale - tarnished with each day’s new light.
Please believe me, ye youth by whose royal fruit thy must be
Gathered before ripened - else ye rot upon the tree.
Heaven itself must be sufficiently allotted, soon of late,
Like some unlucky youthful revolution born purely out of fate.
This false fate whose notions if we watch with skill,
For does not human good depend on human will?
Fortune rolls upward like lava, smoothly it does ascend,
From its first release, it takes not the bend.
But, if un-seized, it glides away like the wind
And leaves us - a late repenting fool far behind.
Now to meet with you, the you reading of this glorious prize,
As I spread these wisdom words before you as above you he flies.
Had thus Old Noah, from whose ***** we all offspring,
Not dared, when fortune called him to be the lead offering,
At the bottom of the ocean in exile he might still remain
And Heaven's sacred anointing oil would have been in vain.
Let Noah’s successional ages to your heart engage
And not shun the examples of this prophesized declining age.
For behold soon there comes three days of darkness to the skies,
As the shadows lengthen into the airs and then we slowly vaporize.

Watching the weather, all the earthquakes, the volcano eruptions, the crazy skies and all - well - if you haven't thought about some of the prophecy you've always heard then perhaps this poem makes very little sense to you. But on the off chance that while you read this piece you too have noticed the weird strangeness now enveloping the globe then maybe you can appreciate why I had to write this.
Leira Nov 2013
I want to share a story, a tale of sorts
One that makes the heart break and revive, twist and turn, yearn and crave
Without spoiling too much, let’s start at the very end
See sometimes something is simply not enough
Sometimes the status quo has to be changed
Altered, formed into a new being
A new creation
That very new specimen can make everything flip on in
Which is why in the end, when the last piece falls into order
It must be exactly as it should be
By that I mean, it must be as fate or destiny prophesized
I hope I have not lost any
Like I said I don’t want to spoil too much
But let’s say this ending, this one in particular, came from another spectrum
That it somehow escaped fate
Can something escape the pretenses of which it is ordained?
Yes, yes it can
So let’s begin
How do you begin to tell a story?
Do you start right from the beginning?
You can, but that’s so boring and overused
But we can’t start in the middle either
So we’ll pick a random place
It’s much more fun that way
It was the end of summer
The leaves were still green, sky still blue
The air, still possessed that humid and sticky quality to it
Not yet had it reached that perfect evening breeze
And she was still the same girl
Same blue eyes, same personality, same family, same way
Same girl who could make anyone laugh with just one saying
She had this very easy way of being
Relaxed, one could say, down to earth
But still spontaneous and outgoing
She let time slowly trickle by
Enjoy life
Simple, outgoing, funny, smart, clumsy, talented, and beautiful
She was
And then there was him
Now, I know what you are thinking
So let’s go ahead and let the cat out of the bag
One could call this a story of love or romance
But I hate those words
I like simple terms
When love comes in the picture, things get complicated
So let’s just say there was a boy
And there was girl
The boy, well, he was funny too
A short fellow he was, but a funny one
A caring one too, supportive, encouraging, sensitive
Optimistic and easy going
He attained a charm about him
He had a way with words
Of making one feel special
In such a big universe
Chocolate brown eyes that seemed to be the window of his soul
Oh, how cheesy
He did have brown eyes though
Girls thought him to be very attractive
A handsome young man
Short, strong, charismatic, kind, noble, sensitive, funny and handsome
What a great blend of qualities to have
Now that I’ve introduced these lovely two
What do you think their story is?
How did they come to be?
What makes it so heartbreaking?
I guess the matter at hand is
Do we really want to know?
It’s like an itch you scratch
Isn’t it?
It’s bothering the heck out of you
But no matter how many times your finger nails
Scrap across the delicate skin
It just continues to inflame and aggravate
Maybe that’s why I started with the ending
Then proceeded to pick a random spot in time
Introduce a boy and a girl
Who….
Then leave it there
Hanging on end
Where the reader fills in the blanks
Makes up their own story
Of how they escaped fate
Because maybe you’re ending
Isn’t be as heartbreaking as mine…..
Mitchell Dec 2011
In the frame time with mimes
Circling around in rhyme
Where the whispers are shouted
And the misery is publicized
In colorful banners all emphasized
Take thy front foot to the left
And they back foot gone to theft
All here on the bitter mans salute
All here on the fitter mans salute
All here on the winning mans salute

And in sticking finicky horse flies
War torn and wishing they were never born
Telling tales that now are screened as myths
Where love is prophesized in the shape of gifts
No man may enter and no woman may squeal
We are all habits in finely packed eight dollar meals
Shipped off and clipped off
Like coupons were are richly scuffed
So here lie the bitter mans salute
So here lie the fitter mans salute
So here lie the winning mans salute

With the bid that went through by the government official
Stating that all tax will be in the form of red wax
Each child must pray to someone else so to obey
Kidnapped minds that grind their kinds as thin as lines
Non-sensical quotes that drift in the minds like long lost boats
Skimming the surface of a service of true freedom
Reaching millions with a smile with crossed fingers as long as miles
And here lie the bitter mans salute
And here lie the fitter mans salute
And here lie the winning mans salute

Our timing in the black market square
Makes all who enter shiver and dare
Know not who you hate only who you love
Take a start toward the finishing line above
Inside all of this lies no secret and no lie
Your heart will be broken but do not cry
Bright in the day but dark all around me now
The farmers in the field work with no plow
She's memorized by pity pain capturing her life
Sharpening the ****** weapon a heart shaped knife
Make your way down and
See the bitter mans salute
See the fitter mans salute
See the winning mans salute
Àŧùl Aug 2013
Do you remember that date,
It was 27 April the year '13,
And it was really very late.

We had a communication-gap cropped-up,
An unavoidable communication-gap it was,
Some misunderstandings had cropped-up.

Though both had our respective liabilities,
I had been overtly angry much to your fears,
I'm still sorry for what I said had brought tears.

I had lamely prophesized in anger,
When we had a no-fun word-war,
I had said very dramatically,
That you'll be married,
Exactly 7 years, 7 months & 7 days later.

Even you yourself were upset at that time,
And we didn't talk for many days.
You felt cheated & even I felt scandalized.

We knew that this tiff will have to end one day,
So we sub-consciously thought we'd test ourselves.
Maybe we knew that it'll end someday if not that day.

Because we are like our favourites Tom & Jerry,
Fighting very seriously but loving all the way along,
So probably that too is an indispensable part of love!

We have laughed it over and left that tiff back,
But hey that prophecy must come true!
Not at all like that you should worry about it,
About having to marry somebody else,
It will be me only who marries you!
Do you remember that day, darling?
:-P ^_^ :-D
Probably a free relationship advice for everyone who is true in their relationships.
Keep it truthful and sweet, it should come through.

Special thanks to Mrs. & Mr. Bruffy who helped us as we held to the strings so delicate.

My HP Poem #405
©Atul Kaushal
Brian Oarr Mar 2012
It'll all be over in about eight minutes,
Give or take, depending on your side of the Earth,
Plasma therapy for the masses.
Just like that, we're all crispy critters,
Pork rind skins flavored with dehydrated sea-salt.
That beautiful aurora-generating magnetosphere,
Shrinking daily, as the planet's poles reverse,
Will puncture like a too thin prophylactic.
The Christians will have just minutes,
Reminding us that we were prophesized
To all go out in fire and overlooking
That we're actually being ionized with radiation ---
A mere trifle to the True-Believers.
Will the Dow-Jones sell off in those final moments?
Will the Russians attempt to launch a Soyuz?
The Brits will take it all in stride with another pint;
Aussies venture on their final walkabout.
As for me, I'm gonna saddle up a pony
heading straight out to greet the Joshua trees.
I want to meet annihilation on my own terms.
JN Masolas Jun 2014
Beneath a southern isle doth lie the king of boys
Decomposed was he, as the wit of the world fell to the same solem depths
Alas the ego who stripped  our hero of his power
Innocence, his last living breath
HE was nothing more than a charlatan
The so-called king of all things
The so-called GOD among boys
Knew nothing more than the extent of his own vanity
The prospective leader
Prophesized guide us through this darkness that is our world
Now lays in ruins
        Shattered
And with him all reason
All notions of right and good
Crushed beneath a shadow of ostentation
critique at your leisure
Cedric McClester Apr 2015
By: Cedric McClester

Holy Mother Mary
What is goin' on
We still celebrate
The day your son was born
But now they’re tellin us
That we must worship you
Can you tell me please
While I’m on my knees
What am I to do

Holy Mother Mary
Blessed is the womb
That bore your holy son
But now must we assume
That you’re the holy one
Prophesized to come
Can you tell me please
While I’m on my knees
What am I to do

Holy Mother Mary
Please enlighten me
I don’t understand
I’m a Jesus fan
How can this all be
Should I worship thee

Holy Mother Mary
Tell me what da deal
To me you’re really real
But even so I feel
To change you overnight
Just wouldn’t be right
Can you tell me please
While I’m on my knees
What am I to do

Holy Mother Mary
Please enlighten me
I don’t understand
I’m a Jesus fan
How can this all be
Should I worship thee

Holy Mother Mary
What is goin' on
We still celebrate
The day your son was born
But now they’re tellin us
That we must worship you
Can you tell me please
While I’m on my knees
What am I to do

Holy Mother Mary
Blessed is the womb
That bore your holy son
But now must we assume
That you’re the holy one
Prophesized to come
Can you tell me please
While I’m on my knees
What am I to do


(c) Copyright 2015, Cedric McClester.  All rights reserved.
Carmelo Antone Feb 2012
Voluptuous virtues he swore he would share  
Fraternizing with folklore for the sake of a faith based cure
Reading the words of a quill scribble scare,

Touting the tales of those who have already seen where this go’s,
Flirting with prescribed predictions despite doc being six feet below

Unable to hear this
Those of a breathless conviction
Of a possible conscience

Personally pathetic, the absence of your acceptance,
Mortality is not insignificance
So keep this between us if eternal darkness sparks your interest,

I’ve grown intolerable of,
In horror of,
The Extorting,
Marketing,
******* of,
Prophesized certainties

The lives they took the souls they shook,
From shillings to dimes,
For centuries you’ve tried
Labeling me at infancy,
Condemning me as if it took a martyr to open my eyes

You’ve been attempting to defy the possibility that,
Good can be,
Physically derived,

Scared of the potentiality
A human worthy of being primed,
To senate your anxieties.
This is a poem taken from my student portfolio and can also be found on Mantone.net
BlakOps Feb 2012
World War this, Critical think that
For what? Me ain' kno no white man struggle.
Might as well be the business of a muggle, juggle
the thoughts leading to actions,
leading to memories,
Of greater things than this chair
this table
this paper.
Yes paper, we all need paper.
Fixes all problems, makes all faker.
All prophesized by a great man, Weber.
See the fornification of men onto women must be of great importance to the survival of a familial structure which opposes the direction humankind pushes societies boundaries.

STOP. I blacked out.
What the **** just came out my spout...


Nonsensical happenings in a blackboard dreamland
Chalk dust monsters attack.
I react.
Evil vampires swoop
Come try to **** my blood
Impossible.
My veins are dry.
Zombified, I am.
I’m sorry teach,
You took it all already.
Critique is welcomed.
Ottar Aug 2015
the night is quiet,
a blanket dark and heavy,
muffling all sonic sound rings,
almost a surreal peace that brings,
don't even know what a heart is
supposed to sound like, heaving
sighs, tears make no sounds as
they spill from the corner not
the center of closed eyes.

ego-centric

drop the pebble, dare ya
drop the stone, splash ya
drop the boulder, douse ya
they all find the bottom
for a sure footing
              not putting
out more than they displace,
nothing human about their ways,
they don't even know what is drowning.


concentric

a flame
hues hunger
to change, to look
more fierce as fuel
force an unleashed force
nature's Berserker, a wildfire,
the wind prophesized over
the conflagration, for-
getting itself and got
involved, until the
fire makes its' own
melded, melting
resistance in the
the way as the
sum feeds upon
itself, yet the
fire is,
sure

eccentric
Wander through this burning desire to write, nothing light or fluffy here.
I walked into our chapel
shoulders back,
head high,
dignified.

No Catholic shame
forced my eyes
to the mosaic aisle

Trodden Over
by my Sandaled feet,

It was a feast day,
praising God
with our laughter
and shared
beneficence.

We joined
in joyful prayer,
receiving each other's
sacrament
with the reverence
of saints

but just as I sang
the psalms the loudest
there came
an unholy silence,

Believing I was being
tempted,
I fell to my knees,
contemplated
your wonder

waiting for your return
to your
prodigal lover;

squandering our
sacred time,
not counting the blessings of
our moments of grace.

I hung upon
my silent cross,
weeping into my
wine-soaked rag

Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani  

Descending into
Despair,

Waiting for
an Easter
that I swore
had been prophesized,

Even upon your
high holy
return,

you seemed resurrected,
and yet I not saved.

I felt like Moses
on his day of death
beholding
the promised land
covenanted by
souls

and yet
remaining in
this desert
thirsty for
the wellspring
that seemed to be sitting
behind your eyes,
the water that would
quench
my forever thirst.

Despite the ache
in my dried mouth,
I'd find
the will
to stand upon my feet,
tired of relying on
a charitable heart's
sympathies
as my means of
living.

But I found
that I was
praying for
too much
from you

and I fell upon
my knees again,

wondering if
humility is meant
to leave you feeling
this broken.

And so begins the litany
of sacrifices

wondering

if you are my
love made flesh
why it is I who is

scourged,
stripped of dignity,
nailed to a cross
that I had brought here
myself

Mumbling words out
to a silent heart
that I know
hears me.

Thinking that surely
our death
will meet me soon.

But by
the clever grace of
the devil

I continue,
finding life
that should have
diminished
at two o' clock.

Is Hannukah
not
supposed to be
a celebration?

Because while burning
in this modest
Menorah lifestyle,

sacred
and
devout.

I find faith
in you

and have been shepherded
to no redemption,

but only the
salty pillars
of one who trusts
in gods
created by another God.

And upon this realization,
I rush to confession,
knowing my worship
of false idols
is not over.

As I remember
our love
as beautiful
and mighty,

I'm forced
also to remember
that
Lucifer, too,
fell when things were at
perfection.

Try as I might,
I must turn my face away,

with the hope
that something
greater

truly does await
for one
who loved paradise,
body and soul,

with the finality
of resurrection.
oh no May 2014
It’s not that hard to explain
there’s me and then there’s my body (neither one matters to you)
there’s my mouth and then there’s my heart rate
there’s your eyes and then there’s your poetry
(I haven’t seen either one in a long time)
you’ve never been that hard to understand
I know you’d love to think you are and the rules
are complicated but they don’t change
(it’s okay though
most people are like that some are just better at
lying) I met you
as a child I left you something different
I met you and you rolled the dice (it wasn’t
until you were older that we learned to play the game)
I left you when I realized there would be no winner
I met you a child and left you an animal (and
there’s nothing I can say to make up for that)
it’s not that hard to say I’m sorry
I’ve been saying it for years it’s reflex it’s a tic and to you
every apology was a suicide note a notice
of my progressive apoptosis (it’s not
your fault it’s not
that hard to say I miss you) and for you
I weighted dice I counted cards I hid aces
up my sleeves and gave you my jacket and for you
I weighted words I counted stars just
to prove I couldn’t I hid galaxies in my mouth
just to prove I could (it’s not
your fault even though you asked me to) I
have been walking in circles on frozen floors
punching through windows cutting up
old love notes and paper snowflakes you
have been painting on cardboard walls
(my heart has grown out of yours and
there is nothing I can say to escape that)
I have been outside pounding on your windows you
have been boarding them up with lines about
how I was so close and should just
keep trying
(you kept saying they were paper but you lied) I
have been doing my makeup like yours and
drawing on my skin like you draw on your walls
you have been coloring over me
(there are other things breathing in your walls with me and we
are the heartbeat of the scenery
the god of the machine)
I have spent years backtracking to your door
I have spent years detaching from my floor it was
a picture you painted with your eyes closed and we thought
it was beautiful
it was a picture you painted of that void space
that existential wasteland behind our eyes and I thought
it was real (and there’s nothing I can say to make up for that)
I have spent years beating against brick walls until
my hands bled my picture
has become abstract
it’s like I’m imprisoned inches off the ground my consciousness
got lost in your blood spattered sky I have spent years
beating against brick walls until my hands broke you told me
to lift my feet up off the ground so I dragged them to the edge of a cliff
I have spent years beating against brick walls and
it has been years since I could touch anything at all
you saw the bones of my cut fingers and said they were beautiful
I will never pretend that wasn’t my fault (and
there’s nothing I can say to explain that)
I have been clawing at my face so you will call me beautiful
I cannot live anymore in this rotting skin
I think I’m ******* bleeding
I think I’m ******* toxic (I have heard you say
the same thing before and I’ll never know whether
you meant it) I wiped blood from your face
with my spit but you wouldn’t risk my infection
there was a kind of balance in the way you held me
on your fingertips but I have grown too heavy
because I was too much in myself to float off the ground with you
and too much in love to let go (I am trying so hard
not to be in love with this anymore) I swear to myself
that the feeling of this earth on my hands means more
to me than you do I swear to you
that in your existential rapture I will not purge myself
of your sins (my exodus did not come soon enough and
there’s nothing I can say to escape that)
I will breathe the prophesized sickness of this world
but I will not breathe the sickness out of you
never again will I look down at my footprints
and wonder who they belong to
it’s not that hard to remember
there was me and then there was my body
maybe they used to matter to you but
neither one belonged to me (and
there’s nothing I can say to make up for that
there’s nothing I can say to get them back)
Aurora RW Nov 2019
Born on different stars
Destined to share the light in each other’s eyes
Traveling from galaxy to galaxy, for centuries at a time
Prophesized together since our world’s conception
Longing for one another, from one millennia to the next
Two souls, one beating heart
Yearning endlessly for the rest of our days
My soul, my body, my past, present and future
For the completion of my being upon every rebirth
I feel you always and forever.
preservationman Sep 2014
My testimony for all to hear
My survival in taking away the fear
Death was once an end in my beginning
But through the praying hands, I was up for more innings
It was prophesized when I was only 12, 13 and 15, God wanted me to preach his word
It’s my voice being God’s choice in being heard
My eternity became a renewed tomorrow
My head was totally raised from sorrow
A valley might be considered below
But God said think high peaks and below just isn’t so
God surely brought me out
Now I have something to truly shout
Natural Doctors previously said I was at near at being dead
But Spiritual Jesus said, “Get out of that bed”
Man doesn’t have all the answers
In fact, the ideas often fall under pranchers
My encouragement to you if you only knew
My personal testimony is what spirituality can truly do
Words from my heart telling you tomorrow will come
The world only waits to get some
Salvation is for all who will accept
Dry up your tears in cries of wept
God’s divine in being in a fulfilled kept
God totally brought me out of darkness
It was the rainbow of light
My vision of faith in plain sight
Whatever your plight?
God can enrich you in over pouring blessings in praise of excite
Follow me to Heaven’s reign
Today seek salvation and let it be your aim
Come out of the Devil's game
Eternal life in God's tame.
preservationman Jan 2016
The Earth is starting to change
The skies are aligning in rearrange
Heaven is carefully looking Earth down
Praises to the most highest, should be your sound
My Brothers and my Sisters, start praying whole on your knees
With the struggling times, you need to call on thee
Time is getting shorter by the hour
You need salvation in order to have power
Murders beyond one’s redemption
Evildoers thinking on exception
Understanding being one’s accord
The Covenant coming from our Lord
Hatred lives thinking they will always strive
Believe on Christ in repent and you will survive
This is not a fable of jive
It’s the truth that Jesus shall arrive
The time is now
Prayer is the key in showing you how
Tomorrow might be today
No one really knows the exact day
I have a testimony I wish to share
Death was knocking at my door at birth
Doctors stated I would be leaving this Earth
Jesus simply said that this was going to be a reverse
I am not telling you this from some verse
Prayer was the key
My continued living became everlasting
Jesus will soon return
No need to pack
It’s just a prophesized fact
In order to enter the kingdom of Heaven, you must repent
Jesus died for us so he is our savior being Heaven sent
Judgment upon the Earth
The enrichment being a new birth
The Devil wants to recruit move deceit in his army
The battle is never won
Jesus reigns supreme and no matter what, he will always be number one
My believing was continuous
My praise was for the amaze
My testimony being your tour guide in the leading the spiritual way
I am sure there are doubter’s that have words to say
But it is pray that will always stay
The Lord being a connection not needing any electronics
In fact, it’s nothing scientific
Yes my Brothers and Sisters, time is wining down and no time for looking around
The church should be your place
Having Faith is not to erase
Sin is nothing more than a waste
Seek Christ while he can be found
The Earth is slowing settling down
In a second, destruction having no sound
The Christ that is and will always be
Just wait, pray and look up, and the entire world shall see.
jeffrey conyers Jun 2013
It's been said.
It's been spoken.
And you might say long predicted.
That one day you would wake up and see.
Just what you truly had in me.

At the time you wanted to be free.
Wanted to play games of searching  and seeking.
And now that the one you with have grown tire of you.

You, now see the one person that was truly good for you.

Yes, it's been said.
It been spoken.
And of course prophesized.
That you would seek me once more.

But it's just a dream.
I now realize , what we could have had?
Will never ever be.

Keep living.
Keep on dreaming.
Cause we are on two different pages.
And the ending you're hoping for.
Truly ended many years ago.
preservationman Jun 2016
A time prophesized that would appear
The final hour that has come near
The irony of fear
Judgment Day has arrived
There was people running looking for places to hide
But being God’s servant I will abide
My trust has always been in the Lord
His teachings of knowledge was always my accord
The books were opened
My soul was raptured up
I journeyed and arrived in Heaven
My days on Earth that was a final seven
The Angels welcomed me, and shook my hand
But it was the Lord at the throne being the caravan
Praises and harmony that stood out
Joy being my thankful shout
Gold and Silver everywhere around Heaven
Earth was a good-bye
Heaven being a new beginning and I would be the try
My Faith that stood up
My praise having a testimony
Being a miracle of behold
Salvation is about being bold
Death wanted to stop me
Warmth intervention displayed for all to see
Heaven carried me along, but Earth was something that made me spiritual strong.
Michael Kusi Oct 2017
God stepped in the garden to where the serpent be
He had a prophecy to be delivered urgently
God said that there will be one day a seed
Not to feed our greed but to supply a need
It will be a fight but the seed will crush the serpent’s head
The Son of Man bled and would rise up from the dead

Abraham looked at Isaac as he raised his arm with the knife
God told Abraham to spare this young man’s fragile life
Abraham saw a ram and decided to pick its flesh from the thicket mess
God promised Abraham that a lamb would save his people from wickedness
The seed and the lamb was coming in the body of one
And he would be both a being that was Godly and Man’s son.

The kings asked Herod where is he who is King of the Jews
Because they saw his start and these kings that it was good news
Herod was worried, because this child’s power was a threat to the throne
And this child was prophesized since Adam said Bone of my bone
Herod lied and said that the kings should visit and tell him
The kings left thinking that Herod’s words were very compelling

Over the place that Jesus was born there was the brightest star.
It was a journey that they made from all night from afar
Kings went to meet the King, and they gave gifts to the one who was Truth
They gave gifts of gold to God who gave his  greatness as a youth.
God rewarded their obedience, and we still remember them this day
An angel of God warned them in a dream to go another way.
They left and did not tell Herod, because they knew he was evil.
And that he would try to **** the Savior who came to save all people.
preservationman Jun 2017
Why is it people will believe a Meteorologist?
But when it comes to the Lord, it’s having no Faith at all
Why is it the Heavenly Father who controls, people turn away?
The Heavenly one is the one who can destroy and move elements being Almighty
This is reality
Why is it people will read a novel book or computer news from beginning to end, but won’t pick up a Bible and read a scripture waiting on when?
The Bible has stories that actually happened or is prophesized to happen
But people just don’t believe
Yet the Lord is the one that gives relief
He also offers strength during grief
So why is the separation in who believes
Man functions on possibilities and assumptions
The Lord being Almighty in definite
Assurance you can trust
These are all added pluses
People tend to think they are their own victorious
But the Lord is involved and it is he who does the problems in resolve
So many more questions after questions
The question is, have you truly found the definite answer?
The answer is the environment was created not by man, but a more superior being
Man can think, but wisdom comes from understanding through the Superior
Man can’t construct nor destroy
Man is the decoy, but the powerful one instills the joy.
Diction Oct 2018
The light comes out to play every morning an every morning I wait to say goodbye/

Trapped in this day light of lies shinning in my eyes/

Image covered/

Permanently false an idolized like this is the world that was prophesized/

Diseased prized/

Covered in the human races pride/

Today's cyanide/

Recognition denied just another yesterday's problem pushed aside/

Like tomorrow's sunrise keep your eyes wide/

Or you'll miss that one of a kind moment when yesterday and today are tied/

As the moon kisses the sun on the horizon's side of beautifully blind/
Cedric McClester May 2018
By: Cedric McClester

Mankind in general
Had better beware
Of what he’s hiding
Underneath his hair
Three revealed numbers
You’ll no doubt find there
The three sixes prophesized
Which should give you a scare

The Evangelicals
Tend to look the other way
While the devil’s in
The White House busy at play
They’re awaiting the Rapture
Which they call, Judgement Day
Or the end of times
As some others say

It’s those numbers
That he’s trying to hide
Not just the bald spot
That he has denied
It’s so obvious
Once logic’s applied
He’s the devil incarnate
But I’ll let you decide

The devil has the appearance
Of one who succeeds
But he must be judged
By his dastardly deeds
I hope I’m not getting
Too much in the weeds
But it’s upon the gullible
That he often feeds





Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2018.  All rights reserved.
Michael Kusi Nov 2018
I used to walk on sinful ground, but I now talk to him spell bound
Been blocked but still found the Jesus who died to save personally
I was enslaved but mercifully, he took my grave curse on a tree
Mary carried this son, the Godhead in one, in his flesh form.
The God with us was built into her belly, and this was God’s blessed born.
Some assembly was required but it just had to be, this was the Messiah.
Jesus came to  Earth with no flyer, to wash man’s ***** laundry with no dryer.
The Son had bled for our sins but was raised up from the dead.
To save man became one instead, on the cross it is done he said
No hamper because nothing possible could hamper his anointing.
His blood was wound for our sins, and his grace gave us God’s appointment.
God saw Jesus come up out of the waters and said that I’ll honor that
Judas betrayed him for coins like the ones you use at the laundromat.
He got pieces but no peace because he betrayed the Prince of Peace.
Jesus said I must decrease and told Peter stand down and put down your piece.
The package of Mary’s pregnancy placed to purchase to pay for this prize.
Save from the demise, Satan’s lies, Jesus is our star who needed this great enterprise.
When Christ carried the cross, it was a trek through our space, that he must do to rise.
The only craft Jesus needed was the wood he gave his life on, he had the last laugh.
Jesus is  the Word, so when his blood was spilled, the ground saw its holy paragraphs.
Mankind held Jesus close but God warned that our hands will break this action figure.
His passion’s bigger, because when Jesus broke bread he had an old-fashioned dinner
The day after was grim, soldiers pierced his side, and there was to be found no smiles.
The soldiers posted up Jesus on the cross as his status and he became a profile.
Life and Birth prophesized Christ walked the earth ostracized
When Christ breathed his last, he paid it so the curse also died
They tried to block him, but Jesus walked out the tomb just like the texts said.
So God could slide into our DMs for us to communicate as best friends.
Matthew Sep 2019
Birds with clipped wings outline her eyes
Her eye shadow is her divine disguise,
That hides the tears that overflow
They pitter-patter on her chest, as her heartbeat slows
Into silence; the violence of her red wine dress
A good merlot, alcohol makes her depressed.

To see her blurred mind in its state of undress
Is to watch genius itself infinitely regress
To the point of pictures that adorn cave walls.
She sees the light flicker in the hall
As synapses lapse and lost are the words
They’ve all gone rotten, solidified into curds.
Exhaustion provides a high in her mind
Though most of her thoughts are quite unkind.

She knows the danger of the man who enchants
Her, and makes her body obediently dance
To a greater demon, with his demonic hymn
He weakens her conscience, makes her integrity dim.

She pursues dusk at a New Orleans café
Surviving on French roast, and warm beignets
A stranger sweeps through the foggy air
Running his fingers through her brittle hair,
Devilishly trying to steal her resolve
Till her past is lost and her future’s dissolved
Like salt into a saturated ocean
Where despair is defined by a lack of motion.
Her notion of life is just the beauty of its rhythm
Its color diffracted by poetry’s prism;
Her head is filled with her loves and lusts
That killed her heart with a thousand cuts
To end the war before it could start
Her captain sailed her home with his outdated charts.

Cigarette butts are put out on her tongue
The smoke and ash remind her of when she was young,
How tobacco evaporates as cigarettes burn
And how pain is love’s method for making us learn,
The lesson of despair contained in every regret,
Best learned when she lets her feet get wet.
Her epiphanies’ are dormant in her single-minded brain
Footsteps catching echoes of the departed train
Leaving the station for some stable place
The mountains and sun conjoined at her face,
A pas de deux she devised at Swan Lake
A heavenly intervention done for God’s sake.

Her mind is warped and can’t recognize
That the warm promise contains the largest of lies.

Fluorescent lights destroyed her poet’s vision,
She recovered her strength at the holy mission
Only to give in and be hypnotized,
By the greatness that the priests prophesized.

The words seem clumsy in the day’s rough light
Their power comes from the isolation of her nights
To go under and not once come up for air
If she dies she’ll realize she has no heir
To look after her fortune of memories and tissues
When her heart shuts down from years of disuse
Because she put up bricks to keep heartbreak at bay
But it ended up keeping those she cares about away.

She’s losing the invincibility that comes with her age
Sacrificing her thoughts for what gets on the page;
But is it worth it in the end? She really hopes so
Otherwise her disguise will fly off when the wind blows
Too hard and fast for her suffering mind
She feels her body getting closer to death all the time.

She prays for a friend, so not to spend her nights alone crying
Indulging in self-loathing and truly despising
Herself. Her tears fall and splatter
Meanwhile her heart’s aching; it’s in tatters,
She puts on a smile to show nothing’s the matter
And hopes that next time it’ll be her heartache that’s shattered.
ZACK GRAM Sep 13
Alien tech
Fly any vehicle
Travel instant
Multi versal
Two spots at once
Tech never studied
Gods whispers
To many coincedence
They watching
Wanting
Testing
3 days asleep
1 day awake
No proof
Im proof
Chaos order
Love an death
Death for love
Realms visible
Hidden systems
Hidden lines
Hidden values
Posted predicted
Prophesized and presented
We all ask whats our purpose
This is our purpose
To make past relevations
Into future revelations
So every person
Each nation
Nature religion
I seen this yesterday
Will you let me postawake
Or will i fail to succeed
Die with every religion
Allah or jesus
Dont matter
Super power
Zacks 5th
Gemerations of wealth
No inheretence
Where has my lands gone
I will have them all Zack very soon
Sattelites
preservationman Nov 2023
A miracle in my life
Being the miracle
God’s advice
Doctor’s words
Death would be upon
Living among
Health issues in the beginning
The Lord with the winning
Doubt in Doctor’s eyes
Blessing being the surprise
The turnaround
7 unlucky number
Finale was supposed to be everlasting slumber
The Lord added fulfilling numbers in accelerating
My Spiritual Grandmother prayed
She did it without delay
I was the relay
The Lord prophesized with everything on target as stated
Intervention promised
I am still here today
God’s way
What do I say, “HALLELUJAH”
A happy family fixed upon an inviting bedazzled house,
a happy family that is untainted,
kids spirit strongly painted,
dad is with his spouse and mother wears a blouse.

The front door was square and the invitation within was over tempting,
free of fear and bound by faith,
we walk passively up those steps,
this is the beginning, this is unbeknownst to be an evil risk to take.

Inside the copper veil of the outside world this house has signs,
trauma stains in the pores fill the gaps of intrusion,
no room for positive incision,
as the evil has rashly soaked everything in blind illusion.

Stagnant air compress the depression,
we walked though starting our painful life lesson.
The kids play amongst this hidden ungodly confession,
the husband tries to shield his prophesized wife from the coming torment,
because he's second guessing.

Everything must go but the windows are closed,
no light can shine through the devil pained glass,
clearing the air was impossible as everything that came in held negative pressure,
I prayed this would pass.

A newly established home yet unfinished,
progress made, but no time to continue the cleansing,
back for work to live in this chaos day by day,
now I'm breathing in this cycle unchanged,
back to work and the exorcist delayed,
I vow to come back and fix this dismay,
daily feeling of the ghosts sinking between each board unlayed.

Upon returning through the front door no longer square as I'm growing grey hair,
the little ones are regressing as my torment progresses,
my breathing more intense as the angels regress,
I know the end comes soon,
because the sings are there, a feeling of certain Doom.

My spouse's blouse is missing,
her disconnect to reconnect no longer a submissive,
something went wrong along this song so passive,
my heart yearns of a disconcern so massive,
our certain end comes denying where we're from,
no matter the trials I stay a while as my heart beat slams the drum.

Through the fallen front door the frame is now obtuse,
my heart shape is acute,
the kids neglectfully eat rotten fruit,
I had a feeling but never knew,
the end of us is something I can't chew,
the immoral air standing still now blew,
through our souls chilled by the sun so blue,
the windows cracked and the evil no longer new,
reaching for my spouse I go right through,
the little ones can no longer see either of us two.

Clutching the little ones I can feel the slime of anxiety,
they haven't been around for a while in this reality,
rushing for the closing door I throw them out,
turning around once more I can see the truth of evil start to shout,
subject to control by sin,
I can see it's originating from the spouse,
latin words of vanity spew from her mouth,
I choke my dreadful tears back out loud,
my innocence crushed by the devil in a shroud,
this devil was there all along under the blouse,
outside I join, to watch the collapse of this bedeviled house.
Cyclone Dec 2019
The freedom of speech is limited, this country has never recognized, the beliefs I wished to put in, but they approached me once I prophesized, that our rights will soon be taken, and our backs will soon start breaking, from hard labor doing them a favor, they asked me was I faking, I said ."no *****, I'm not faking!, y'all must think I'm some kind of fool, the plan you have for us in the future, is for us to be slammed by your rule, I use my mind just like it's a tool, and take advantage of the rights y'all gave me, but it's like y'all want my mouth to stay closed, I oppose this modern day slavery, it's like a trap, please Jesus come save me, I'm at the crossroads looking at the white house, what kind of freedom does it bring after Martin Luther King was shot, cause he spoke from his mouth, politicians want to know what I'm about, how can I speak if I still can't preach, how can I ever make solutions, add to constitution if I don't have freedom of speech."
I S A A C Aug 2020
Toes digging into the water, my mind is so clear
Floating on the boat forgetting my fears
Kissing the sun forgetting you my dear
Hair perfumed with salt, beach waves
Skin laced with lotion, sunbeams
Smile painted on, the house of cards cave
Makes me soar like dragonflies and rationalize my problems let them be disguised
Within the shivering black that the sun cannot penetrate
Within the deepest depths that harbor sea monsters' eyes
A mouth of chiseled layered teeth and skin so scaly and slick
No ounce of fear I have inside
Relaxing within its mouth because my rise was prophesized
WATER

— The End —