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"refugee" poems
The river winds in from distant lands With mercyless power it turns stone to sand Through its mysterious life, the very earth it commands And Yet the fearful river still runs through our hands. In torrents of furry where the deepest currents flow The rivers wild waters surge with woe. For Onward, forever, its destined to go A permenant home it won't ever know. The river runs from each of us As a refugee of fear, It knows in a blink it will be somewhere else Its waves are really its tears. It runs from the audacity   Of the selfish human mind As Its massive life capacity, Of flora and fauna combined, Are threatened by our antics and helpless to our crime So the river runs on their behalf, from everyone, in time- even within its whitecap foam Water's yearning for a home So roam does the water- endlessly, till its long gone out of sight The essential droplets of the river- Nomads day and night.
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Jun 26, 2018
Jun 26, 2018 at 11:55 AM UTC
From What the River Runs
1096 These Strangers, in a foreign World, Protection asked of me— Befriend them, lest Yourself in Heaven Be found a Refugee—
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16.1k
These Strangers, in a foreign World
Kashmir is not just beautiful It was also free of violence, Not too far back in history, That did occur just 7 to 8 centuries ago. Then they poured out of Central Asia, Hordes getting bigger with each wave, Eliminate they did the original people. In 1320, it was Zulju raiding Kashmir, Then Rinchana, a Tibetan Büđđhïst refugee, he took over. Rinchana had Shah Mir as his Minister, Shah Mir persuaded Rinchana to Islam. After Rinchana, his son was set to be the ruler, However, Shah Mir killed this lawful successor. In 1339, Shah Mir became the first Muslim ruler of Kashmiri lands, Initially, they did not dare harm the original Hïnđū inhabitants. Then it was just Muslim kings for few centuries and slowly the Hïnđū heaven slipped into Muslim hands. Now we know what is the ground reality, The demography became Islamized over centuries, All arts and crafts stand dwarfed by violence, What they aim is an Islamic State, an Islamic Earth.
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Aug 10, 2019
Aug 10, 2019 at 7:14 AM UTC
How They Changed Demography Of Kashmir
See the emblem waving Proudly, touted in the sky. We walk among our brethren. We recourse, resource the reason why. All, in trepidation... We cry out for separation. Could it be our own downfall, Equality, but not for all - But, not for all? Citizens of the nation, Before humanitarians, First comes clicks of locking doors. Equality does not endure. A man of any land should be my brother. The whole earth, to us, our mother. Could it be our own downfall, Equality, but not for all - But, not for all? See the burden being carried High upon laden backs, Tautly stretched, with shoulders bending. Each fear the other will attack. The words have been the same, But for intent that's not their own. For too long, have we been believed. Equality is just for some - Is just for some. Freedom is only for the free. The lines that keep the captives buckling, The doors that keep them let them go. They have no where to escape. Always there is tyranny For the landless refugee. He is no man as worthy as you. Equality is just for some - Is just for some. All the lessons that teach us to love The home of brave and free Are based on notions that could not be true, If all are not the same as you. And, are they not the same as we, Who are decorating for our holidays. Living in our plentitude, Singing songs of charity and caring - Charity and Caring? Gifts are given and received. Do we remember the lessons taught About the kind of men we are, When another is in need? Do they not rate the same concern As the presents and the tree, As we pray in  Holy Spirit, Singing songs of charity and caring - Charity and caring? See the emblem waving Proudly, touted in the sky. We walk among our brethren. We recourse, resource the reason why. All, in trepidation... We cry out for separation. Could it be our own downfall, Equality, but not for all - But, not for all?
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Nov 25, 2015
Nov 25, 2015 at 12:45 AM UTC
But, Not For All
See the emblem waving Proudly, touted in the sky. We walk among our brethren. We recourse, resource the reason why. All, in trepidation... We cry out for separation. Could it be our own downfall, Equality, but not for all - But, not for all? Citizens of the nation, Before humanitarians, First comes clicks of locking doors. Equality does not endure. A man of any land should be my brother. The whole earth, to us, our mother. Could it be our own downfall, Equality, but not for all - But, not for all? See the burden being carried High upon laden backs, Tautly stretched, with shoulders bending. Each fear the other will attack. The words have been the same, But for intent that's not their own. For too long, have we been believed. Equality is just for some - Is just for some. Freedom is only for the free. The lines that keep the captives buckling, The doors that keep them let them go. They have no where to escape. Always there is tyranny For the landless refugee. He is no man as worthy as you. Equality is just for some - Is just for some. All the lessons that teach us to love The home of brave and free Are based on notions that could not be true, If all are not the same as you. And, are they not the same as we, Who are decorating for our holidays. Living in our plentitude, Singing songs of charity and caring - Charity and Caring? Gifts are given and received. Do we remember the lessons taught About the kind of men we are, When another is in need? Do they not rate the same concern As the presents and the tree, As we pray in  Holy Spirit, Singing songs of charity and caring - Charity and caring? See the emblem waving Proudly, touted in the sky. We walk among our brethren. We recourse, resource the reason why. All, in trepidation... We cry out for separation. Could it be our own downfall, Equality, but not for all - But, not for all?
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My avid gaze spoke to the rosary of your flesh My heartsick tremors marked me as a wanted man and burned the villages of my ancestors I was a refugee from time a friend to no man My tears washed the blood from my hands my eyes withered the tender bud So when did I read poetry on your lips? Did your mountains fracture and disintegrate into sparkling shards as mine did? Was the moon an egg in your basket as it was in mine? Little do we know of the other when first we clasp hands and agree In time and with luck we learn.
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Jul 16, 2016
Jul 16, 2016 at 6:33 PM UTC
Confession
Overlook the fragile hourglass figure Beyond corsets and pseudo-beauty rules, Endorse thy curves and stretch marks strewn, The dusky skin and frizzy curls, Braille like pimples on the face Discoloration, bumps and pores; This Body shaming, I shall pass. Writhing in pain and humiliation, Drenching in rage and insecurity While I lie, Society curses me Defining and redefining my chastity; 'T was the crop top, the alcohol and the sly behavior. You set the monster free and blame the **** This Victim shaming, I shall pass. Beige and ebony; They call me names blatantly Betwixt skin color and bleached smiles. Laugh and scoff all you want. Harass the Black, detain them, Prejudiced minds rule your dystopian world. This Black shaming, I shall pass. Without creating a labyrinth of stigma, And seeking refugee in collective blame, Let's construct our utopian world Acknowledging all freaks and flaws This Shaming, we shall pass.
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Apr 10, 2020
Apr 10, 2020 at 8:05 AM UTC
This shaming, I shall pass
I am half-Chinese and a half Filipino-Spanish. I have only learnt to speak Filipino my whole life. The best advises I have received is that there is no right or wrong, that labels does not always help. That no matter what, I should just go and "Live my life", or "Sing in Full Voice, Until Then". Attentive to a fault to the work or person at hand. Because of routine and living demands, sometimes I only pay attention to what is available or given to me. Like the quest for the Spices of the East, I could no longer live the same way when the time came. I had to learn preservation and other flavors. In a Asian Food Show, someone shares How some later generation Chinese had to study their own native language in secret between 1966 to 1998. Stories of how their migrant or refugee heritage have made them scapegoats of many local tensions. And varieties of words and ingredients also native to Chinese and later generations that lived offshore. Many of us now in the thrash of our collective songs towards healing and full living as humanity, continuing refugees and wanderers in our own ways. Where we see our indigenous-selves and our oppressor-selves, is not as difficult as we are usually made to, in a world of artificial demands and surpluses. One old song gently reminds me in many languages singing, as another bowl of handmade noodles breaks open into countless random pieces: We are only passing through earth. Made to experience, and let go of our fears and limitations.To gather our remains so that it is inanimate buildings and objects that are used by the living instead, and nothing is left behind. To not leave a trace. To learn how to love.#
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Sep 3, 2018
Sep 3, 2018 at 1:27 AM UTC
HANDMADE NOODLES
I am half-Chinese and a half Filipino-Spanish. I have only learnt to speak Filipino my whole life. The best advises I have received is that there is no right or wrong, that labels does not always help. That no matter what, I should just go and "Live my life", or "Sing in Full Voice, Until Then". Attentive to a fault to the work or person at hand. Because of routine and living demands, sometimes I only pay attention to what is available or given to me. Like the quest for the Spices of the East, I could no longer live the same way when the time came. I had to learn preservation and other flavors. In a Asian Food Show, someone shares How some later generation Chinese had to study their own native language in secret between 1966 to 1998. Stories of how their migrant or refugee heritage have made them scapegoats of many local tensions. And varieties of words and ingredients also native to Chinese and later generations that lived offshore. Many of us now in the thrash of our collective songs towards healing and full living as humanity, continuing refugees and wanderers in our own ways. Where we see our indigenous-selves and our oppressor-selves, is not as difficult as we are usually made to, in a world of artificial demands and surpluses. One old song gently reminds me in many languages singing, as another bowl of handmade noodles breaks open into countless random pieces: We are only passing through earth. Made to experience, and let go of our fears and limitations.To gather our remains so that it is inanimate buildings and objects that are used by the living instead, and nothing is left behind. To not leave a trace. To learn how to love.#
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I speak the language of God I speak Alleluyah and Amen! I speak a perfect spoken word, The language of poets and gifted men. I speak fluent Norwegian The language of the Norsk. I was born a Liberian. That took time and hard work. I speak sound French The language of French Guinea. I speak it whenever I pray in church, God blessed me there as a refugee. I speak the English Language, The universal language of business. Wall Street used it to do damage, Damages that caused the financial crisis. I speak the hustle language, The one adopted by hustlers. This language I have used to engage, All my challenges and troubles. I speak a special creative language The one spoken by writers and poets. This language is so unique, That it has produced many laureates. #IvanBrooksPoetry© 1/8/2018
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Aug 1, 2018
Aug 1, 2018 at 12:35 PM UTC
Poetry Of Languages I Speak
We are who we are We love who love us We love who hate us We love our Gender Call us Girls Call us women Call us Ladies We are TransWomen Stop being confused Stop being surprised Stop calling us He or It We hate that pronoun We are females we as others We deserve our rights like others We deserve love and affection We deserve Respect like others We are tired of your nicknames "Is a he or a she", "what is this?" It hurts please stop stop stop! We are fine ladies! Full stop ! You scared our fellow ladies They are crying in closet They are lonely in families Because we are Transgenders! Stop abusing my brothers They men and so proud to be Don't be confused by what you see A transMan is a powerful Man! Respect them now and forever Stop calling them ladies or things They are men **** and classy They are men always and forever See us slaying down town We are lovely and attractive We know who we are friends You can't change us Sit down! Don't be confused by Breast That the **** chest of our brother! He is strong enough to be proud We love our bodies and gender We won't hide because you hate us The more you see us feeling proud The better you understand us We are Proud Transgenders! We ladies need our Freedom Government think about us All women are equal in the country We need all care and attentions! Stop calling us Monsters We are human beings We deserve our Rights We are citizens like others! This ain't western culture This ain't Sodoma and Gomollah This is the gender of Us We are Proud Transgender people! Pastors stop that hate preach That hell you need us to go in That Sodoma you always sing All were from Those Bibles If you accuse all LGBTI people To bring back ***** or Gomollah First remember that bible you read Was brought by Evangelists We had gods and goddesses Africa knew no White God We had Love and respect Read , reread and Rereread! Love wins and will win You are taking us nowhere We are here to stay and slay Ourselves Genger our Pride We are done by your hate Is our time to shine bright! You gonna hate us today And you will love us later! TransWomen are women TransMen are Strong men Transgender is a Gender Respect us we hurt no one! "Transgender Right is Human right TransWomen are women too TransMen are men as well We claim no war but our Freedom We claim no hate but our Respect" Poet : Skylar G Peter Poem: we Are Proud Transgender people
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May 6, 2018
May 6, 2018 at 4:15 AM UTC
We are Proud Transgender People (a poem by a trans refugee)
We are who we are We love who love us We love who hate us We love our Gender Call us Girls Call us women Call us Ladies We are TransWomen Stop being confused Stop being surprised Stop calling us He or It We hate that pronoun We are females we as others We deserve our rights like others We deserve love and affection We deserve Respect like others We are tired of your nicknames "Is a he or a she", "what is this?" It hurts please stop stop stop! We are fine ladies! Full stop ! You scared our fellow ladies They are crying in closet They are lonely in families Because we are Transgenders! Stop abusing my brothers They men and so proud to be Don't be confused by what you see A transMan is a powerful Man! Respect them now and forever Stop calling them ladies or things They are men **** and classy They are men always and forever See us slaying down town We are lovely and attractive We know who we are friends You can't change us Sit down! Don't be confused by Breast That the **** chest of our brother! He is strong enough to be proud We love our bodies and gender We won't hide because you hate us The more you see us feeling proud The better you understand us We are Proud Transgenders! We ladies need our Freedom Government think about us All women are equal in the country We need all care and attentions! Stop calling us Monsters We are human beings We deserve our Rights We are citizens like others! This ain't western culture This ain't Sodoma and Gomollah This is the gender of Us We are Proud Transgender people! Pastors stop that hate preach That hell you need us to go in That Sodoma you always sing All were from Those Bibles If you accuse all LGBTI people To bring back ***** or Gomollah First remember that bible you read Was brought by Evangelists We had gods and goddesses Africa knew no White God We had Love and respect Read , reread and Rereread! Love wins and will win You are taking us nowhere We are here to stay and slay Ourselves Genger our Pride We are done by your hate Is our time to shine bright! You gonna hate us today And you will love us later! TransWomen are women TransMen are Strong men Transgender is a Gender Respect us we hurt no one! "Transgender Right is Human right TransWomen are women too TransMen are men as well We claim no war but our Freedom We claim no hate but our Respect" Poet : Skylar G Peter Poem: we Are Proud Transgender people
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Teary eyes with heavy heart, Moving towards a new land A place where I will be called a refugee Which is far away from my home For which my heartbeat forever. Other's can feel the same But cannot match the pain I am the one who is alien Why this is happening Greed for money and power Change my heaven into the fire Leaving my motherland to other's land, Do they accept me as their own I don't know what will happen But will keep praying, one day I will be at my motherland And the tag will become only a word.
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Mar 23, 2019
Mar 23, 2019 at 12:29 AM UTC
Refugee
Say this city has ten million souls, Some are living in mansions, some are living in holes: Yet there's no place for us, my dear, yet there's no place for us. Once we had a country and we thought it fair, Look in the atlas and you'll find it there: We cannot go there now, my dear, we cannot go there now. In the village churchyard there grows an old yew, Every spring it blossoms anew: Old passports can't do that, my dear, old passports can't do that. The consul banged the table and said, "If you've got no passport you're officially dead": But we are still alive, my dear, but we are still alive. Went to a committee; they offered me a chair; Asked me politely to return next year: But where shall we go to-day, my dear, but where shall we go to-day? Came to a public meeting; the speaker got up and said; "If we let them in, they will steal our daily bread": He was talking of you and me, my dear, he was talking of you and me. Thought I heard the thunder rumbling in the sky; It was ****** over Europe, saying, "They must die": O we were in his mind, my dear, O we were in his mind. Saw a poodle in a jacket fastened with a pin, Saw a door opened and a cat let in: But they weren't German Jews, my dear, but they weren't German Jews. Went down the harbour and stood upon the quay, Saw the fish swimming as if they were free: Only ten feet away, my dear, only ten feet away. Walked through a wood, saw the birds in the trees; They had no politicians and sang at their ease: They weren't the human race, my dear, they weren't the human race. Dreamed I saw a building with a thousand floors, A thousand windows and a thousand doors: Not one of them was ours, my dear, not one of them was ours. Stood on a great plain in the falling snow; Ten thousand soldiers marched to and fro: Looking for you and me, my dear, looking for you and me.
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Refugee Blues
Say this city has ten million souls, Some are living in mansions, some are living in holes: Yet there's no place for us, my dear, yet there's no place for us. Once we had a country and we thought it fair, Look in the atlas and you'll find it there: We cannot go there now, my dear, we cannot go there now. In the village churchyard there grows an old yew, Every spring it blossoms anew: Old passports can't do that, my dear, old passports can't do that. The consul banged the table and said, "If you've got no passport you're officially dead": But we are still alive, my dear, but we are still alive. Went to a committee; they offered me a chair; Asked me politely to return next year: But where shall we go to-day, my dear, but where shall we go to-day? Came to a public meeting; the speaker got up and said; "If we let them in, they will steal our daily bread": He was talking of you and me, my dear, he was talking of you and me. Thought I heard the thunder rumbling in the sky; It was ****** over Europe, saying, "They must die": O we were in his mind, my dear, O we were in his mind. Saw a poodle in a jacket fastened with a pin, Saw a door opened and a cat let in: But they weren't German Jews, my dear, but they weren't German Jews. Went down the harbour and stood upon the quay, Saw the fish swimming as if they were free: Only ten feet away, my dear, only ten feet away. Walked through a wood, saw the birds in the trees; They had no politicians and sang at their ease: They weren't the human race, my dear, they weren't the human race. Dreamed I saw a building with a thousand floors, A thousand windows and a thousand doors: Not one of them was ours, my dear, not one of them was ours. Stood on a great plain in the falling snow; Ten thousand soldiers marched to and fro: Looking for you and me, my dear, looking for you and me.
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I beat my feet against the floor Thud thud thud Till the dark red blood Spews from my new nubs I bang my head into the wall Thud thud thud Till the crimson drips Drop silently into the mud I punch the glass window Thud clash crash The glass shatters and my fist Fly’s past the panes Again and again with no end In sight I rage against the night Violence incarnate Fury in human form Flesh and blood storm No sanity for this mad refugee Just blood and gore
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Jan 23, 2015
Jan 23, 2015 at 7:38 AM UTC
The Violence
The birds they sang at the break of day Start again I heard them say Don't dwell on what has passed away or what is yet to be. Ah the wars they will be fought again The holy dove She will be caught again bought and sold and bought again the dove is never free. Ring the bells that still can ring Forget your perfect offering There is a crack in everything That's how the light gets in. We asked for signs the signs were sent: the birth betrayed the marriage spent Yeah the widowhood of every government -- signs for all to see. I can't run no more with that lawless crowd while the killers in high places say their prayers out loud. But they've summoned, they've summoned up a thundercloud and they're going to hear from me. Ring the bells that still can ring ... You can add up the parts but you won't have the sum You can strike up the march, there is no drum Every heart, every heart to love will come but like a refugee. Ring the bells that still can ring Forget your perfect offering There is a crack, a crack in everything That's how the light gets in. Ring the bells that still can ring Forget your perfect offering There is a crack, a crack in everything That's how the light gets in. That's how the light gets in. That's how the light gets in.
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6.3k
Anthem
He tittered and cackled At the refugee plight, Revelled in innocents Running for life. Spends his eternity Stoking flames, Mixing ashes Through worldly pains. Each closing border A fire's refrain. Then humanity stood up, Spoke up, rose up To feed and clothe The homeless hordes: Lucifer wept Over our good world.
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Mar 10, 2016
Mar 10, 2016 at 10:00 AM UTC
Lucifer Wept
A mirror. Reflect, unconditionally, the glory of all But never radiate one's own splendor A shell. Provider, protector Submitted to the furies; ever a refuge, never a refugee A utensil. Mere instrument, to be used and used With no other use A shoe. Worn in and around And replaced when the toll is apparent A secret. Put it out there, do But keep knowledgeable to a close few A kettle. Boiling away on someone's behalf Soon to be dismissed as a maker of shrill screams and hot air A woman. Charitable to inane ideals When all that defines her is contrary
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Dec 1, 2011
Dec 1, 2011 at 12:42 AM UTC
Objectification
She captures autumn in a jar reads the moon's straying through leaf and branch Always in love with love and always reeling from the loss What wave tossed this refugee ashore? What alignment of stars and planets of uncountable galaxies brought this woman to this world and not another? A simple truth will tell. The moon at high tide hides beneath her skirts. A slight disturbance in the silken fabric of space and time and all is lost all is born. I hold my hands out palms up in prayer and thanks every day to mark the blessing to place a peg in the whole. Given to all denied to none and mysterious to most Life pours out of a hole in the sea leaves nothing and everything to chance. This blessed world.
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Nov 4, 2016
Nov 4, 2016 at 3:10 PM UTC
The Poet
I'm a refugee in a world of —unmotherly words rooted in fatherland
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Jul 1, 2015
Jul 1, 2015 at 8:53 AM UTC
Not my mother tongue
Strangers looking in my direction Because I am strange to them Their hawkish hostility Meets with my awkward awareness I clutch on to my pride One of the few possessions I have left My dignity is long gone I feel bare on the road to nowhere My feelings of hope Have been pushed aside by hunger The never ending guilt And the gloomy sense of senselessness We used to be alike United in our pursuit of happiness Once a human being, now a beggar Bound to be a burden From citizen to refugee I washed up on these shores Once a human being, now a stranger To my hawkish, hostile hosts
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Mar 7, 2016
Mar 7, 2016 at 7:51 AM UTC
Refugees
Today go outside after you've had all the turkey, stuffing, cranberry sauce. After you fill your belly with a cornucopia of food. Go out there and thank god that those Indians died off so quickly. Thank god for giving us this land, because we own it, we can own it. It is ours because God said it should be ours, not because we took part in one of the greatest genocides in history. Breathe in all that good air, and thank god that you don't have to be on a reservation. A refugee on the motherland. Our bad.
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Nov 24, 2011
Nov 24, 2011 at 12:58 PM UTC
Thanksgiving.
the day i left for good he wrapped me in an inescapable bear hug that made me feel like i was gonna stop breathing in 3 2 1... we listened to a whole lotta tom petty which is the reason why whenever i'm scanning through the radio on those drives i go on too often that lead to nowhere and i hear "refugee" or "free fallin" i skip. i read a lot to him and he always listened to everything i had to say and the 290th time of the day that i'd say **** and everytime i said something even remotely twisted a small smirk would gradually paint on his lips and then he'd laugh and say it was a good thing we loved each other otherwise he would think i was severely ****** up in the head. he loved my heart shaped sunglasses and he said i made him feel like he was living in a time warp where it was 1989 every millisecond of every waking hour of every day and i loved his eternal youthfulness that sent fireworks flying through my central nervous system. and when he released me from the wrath of his arms he promised that we were gonna sit on his back porch and crack open some brews at midnight and tell stories when i came back home. i miss him more than the sun misses the moon in the morning light my partner in crime, my adrenaline ****** my sagittarius. -z. vega
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Jun 28, 2016
Jun 28, 2016 at 5:33 PM UTC
my sagittarius
Late night dedications from you to me. Writing you letters to see if you are holding it down for me. Collect calls from me to you and some steamy conversation... when your family inquires about my whereabouts....you say I'm on vacation. Your image in my head is what makes each day easier to bare. I'm writing and doing this time instead of stressing and pulling out my hair. It's been said that you do the time and don't let the time do you. I don't want to see the white jackets and be 302'd. Listening to the radio as the love songs play..... Daydreaming as I glance at the pictures of us together on Unity day. The reason I love you is not hard to see or maybe it's just me. My emotions run wild whenever you're next to me. Expressing to you my visions and dreams while I'm incarcerated. Promises that when I get out ....our lives won't be complicated. My thoughts become hot air balloons and the English language becomes foreign. A refugee in my own land except my name's not Lauryn. Wishing I could hold you and fall into a deep sleep. Time would stand still and nightmares would never creep. Our love is like a mountain that has no peaks. I'm missing you like crazy as I'm counting down the weeks. I'm holding you hostage. You're a prisoner without the cuffs. You're saving yourself for me, but it's evident I'll never be worthy enough even if I was free. The money was my idol and it came so fast..... Partying my life away and having a blast. I never thought about how long the money and fun would last. My rise and fall like a pool that's been deflated. My capture and imprisonment greatly exaggerated and celebrated. The families that I've hurt......by them I'm hated. I've destroyed my neighborhood. That's what many have stated. All this is true .....so I'm setting you free. Consider this the last correspondence you'll ever receive from me. Please accept this heartfelt apology. My love I am so....so sorry. My love has revolved around you. My every waking thought has been about you. Now you are telling me that you're setting me free..... Whoa! wait a minute......How could this be? Since we were little kids it's been me and you. You were the paper and I was the glue. My people said that you were not good enough for me, but I was still stuck on you. This really hurts my heart as I read the words you've penned. I realized not so long ago that this relationship must come to an end. The transition will be difficult and it will take time for my heart to mend. As I listen to the lockdown love dedications again and again..... I'll have vivid memories of how this relationship began it end. 4ever in my heart Lockdown Love
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Oct 7, 2012
Oct 7, 2012 at 4:36 PM UTC
Lockdown Love
Late night dedications from you to me. Writing you letters to see if you are holding it down for me. Collect calls from me to you and some steamy conversation... when your family inquires about my whereabouts....you say I'm on vacation. Your image in my head is what makes each day easier to bare. I'm writing and doing this time instead of stressing and pulling out my hair. It's been said that you do the time and don't let the time do you. I don't want to see the white jackets and be 302'd. Listening to the radio as the love songs play..... Daydreaming as I glance at the pictures of us together on Unity day. The reason I love you is not hard to see or maybe it's just me. My emotions run wild whenever you're next to me. Expressing to you my visions and dreams while I'm incarcerated. Promises that when I get out ....our lives won't be complicated. My thoughts become hot air balloons and the English language becomes foreign. A refugee in my own land except my name's not Lauryn. Wishing I could hold you and fall into a deep sleep. Time would stand still and nightmares would never creep. Our love is like a mountain that has no peaks. I'm missing you like crazy as I'm counting down the weeks. I'm holding you hostage. You're a prisoner without the cuffs. You're saving yourself for me, but it's evident I'll never be worthy enough even if I was free. The money was my idol and it came so fast..... Partying my life away and having a blast. I never thought about how long the money and fun would last. My rise and fall like a pool that's been deflated. My capture and imprisonment greatly exaggerated and celebrated. The families that I've hurt......by them I'm hated. I've destroyed my neighborhood. That's what many have stated. All this is true .....so I'm setting you free. Consider this the last correspondence you'll ever receive from me. Please accept this heartfelt apology. My love I am so....so sorry. My love has revolved around you. My every waking thought has been about you. Now you are telling me that you're setting me free..... Whoa! wait a minute......How could this be? Since we were little kids it's been me and you. You were the paper and I was the glue. My people said that you were not good enough for me, but I was still stuck on you. This really hurts my heart as I read the words you've penned. I realized not so long ago that this relationship must come to an end. The transition will be difficult and it will take time for my heart to mend. As I listen to the lockdown love dedications again and again..... I'll have vivid memories of how this relationship began it end. 4ever in my heart Lockdown Love
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~~¤~~ I heard your cry Oh, Paris From the hundred of bodies that fell on your ground I heard the sobbing of your neighbors I saw the tears of all the eyes watching you You were trying to  move on from the tragic Charlie Hebdo Attack But here you are again- Broken and bruised And my heart is breaking My tears are rolling down my face As I utter  a thousand why's But... I still hear the weeping from afar- Palestine and Syria are still mourning for the death of their children, India Heat Wave that killed more than two thousand, The hundreds of migrants killed in sinking ship in the Mediterranean Sea, The TransAsia Airways Flight 235 Crash in Taiwan, The Germanwings Flight 9525 Crash into the French Alps, The Earthquake in Nepal, The Amtrak Train Derail in Philadelphia, The Warehouse Explosion that killed a hundred in China, The Reporter and Cameraman Killed live on TV, The Refugee crisis, The Hajj Pilgrimage Tragedy near Mecca The series of calamities and tragedies in different parts of my dear Philippines- The families of thousands of dead people are still in agony These tragedies around the world Gave those places the deepest cuts upon the bellies of the mothers Wounds that connect to the hearts And create scars that might be fresh until now The world is in pain And here are my tears again I am praying for the world Can we listen to those cries and open our hearts? Let us  pray for you,  dear Paris And for other places wich are still in misery Let us pray for the world. ~~¤~~
0
Nov 15, 2015
Nov 15, 2015 at 6:18 AM UTC
Pray for the World
~~¤~~ I heard your cry Oh, Paris From the hundred of bodies that fell on your ground I heard the sobbing of your neighbors I saw the tears of all the eyes watching you You were trying to  move on from the tragic Charlie Hebdo Attack But here you are again- Broken and bruised And my heart is breaking My tears are rolling down my face As I utter  a thousand why's But... I still hear the weeping from afar- Palestine and Syria are still mourning for the death of their children, India Heat Wave that killed more than two thousand, The hundreds of migrants killed in sinking ship in the Mediterranean Sea, The TransAsia Airways Flight 235 Crash in Taiwan, The Germanwings Flight 9525 Crash into the French Alps, The Earthquake in Nepal, The Amtrak Train Derail in Philadelphia, The Warehouse Explosion that killed a hundred in China, The Reporter and Cameraman Killed live on TV, The Refugee crisis, The Hajj Pilgrimage Tragedy near Mecca The series of calamities and tragedies in different parts of my dear Philippines- The families of thousands of dead people are still in agony These tragedies around the world Gave those places the deepest cuts upon the bellies of the mothers Wounds that connect to the hearts And create scars that might be fresh until now The world is in pain And here are my tears again I am praying for the world Can we listen to those cries and open our hearts? Let us  pray for you,  dear Paris And for other places wich are still in misery Let us pray for the world. ~~¤~~
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38
I see you at my door, huddled against the night in your Kermit-green jacket and purple pants like a refugee from a rainbow. Patiently waiting for my enfolding arms, to spirit you upstairs for flannelette passion which makes us feel safer than the safest ***
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Feb 20, 2015
Feb 20, 2015 at 1:07 AM UTC
REFUGEE FROM A RAINBOW
1. it's not healthy for my heart to run miles on a few drops of water. 2. you make my mind and body curious. 3. my eyes are sleepless from unanswered questions. 4. i love incorrectly. 5. i want to build my home in the unsurveyed land of your heart. 6. i can't crown an adjective with your name. 7. you are too blind to see the effects of your spell. 8. confusion and comfort don't seem as different anymore. 9. i don't know if i'm just lonely. 10. you simultaneously incite my captivation and confusion. 11. you can stifle my anger. 12. i miss something that was never mine. 13. you take me out of the present. 14. you are a stain that I cannot remove. 15. i'm surprised that I still trip for you when we cross paths. 16. i poured my heart out to you, i'm unsure if you accepted it. 17. my mother says she adores you. 18. since you give me no answer, my imagination makes answers for you. 19. i fear that you are turning into my tattered safety blanket. 20. you are running within every inch of my skin. 21. you called me lovely. 22. i take things personally nowadays. 23.  i wear my heart on two sleeves because it has made a space for you. 24. i am wandering around an abandoned refugee camp for my sustenance.
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Oct 11, 2013
Oct 11, 2013 at 2:32 AM UTC
24 reasons you drive me crazy