"restructuring" poems
How do we create a system in which women are really free?
Is that we want undefined freedom where we have no men and we hve what lesbians have? Or do we want the same equal rights as men?
We as feminist cannot be so narrow minded
+Liberal feminists want women to have the same equal rights as men.
Are they not the same women who want their men to be all-male and masculine?
+Marxist/socialist feminists focuses on investigating and explaining the ways in which women are oppressed through systems of capitalism and private property. According to Marxist feminists, women's liberation can only be achieved through a radical restructuring of the current capitalist economy in which much of women's labor is uncompensated. For these women, do not realize that they are the ones who chose to became mother's and end up with the 'unpaid compensation' of taking care of the child that comes along.
Radical feminism blames men entirely on the exploitation.
If there was no men, would we have been as happy as expected if we were to really revolutionize this system, of oppression, capitalism,discrimination and exploitayion.
As women, it is always right to fight for what we believe in.
But it is the truth that we should fight for, justice and peace among men.
Exploits made my men over years have cause women, who are considered'by nature' to be subject class , to think that they are really less than men. ?In truth, we are made from the same flesh and organs just as them.
Is it not us females who bleed once a month, bears children and cope with the problems that comes with the family we have to grow and breed?
We are strong enough but at the end of the day we need someone to submissive to and that should only ne the lawful wedded husband that the Lord himself has granted us with.
We are called to be strong but submissive when the time and place comes as there is a time and place for everything understand.
Strong and submissive should be our mission without being confused by men and that is the type of feminism we should live by.
Sep 24, 2014
Sep 24, 2014 at 6:23 PM UTC
She arrives in high stilletto’s
And a miniskirt so taught
That the boys are all distracted
And our job becomes a rort,
And the office girls get ******
And production spirals down
So then our new Middle Manager
Rolls up her sleeves and goes to town....
She sticks her oar in frequently
And stands with jutted hip,
She’s territorial dynamite
And serves us gloating lip.
She often curries favour
With Department Heads and such
And makes a fuss at our expense
Which irritates so much!
She has a way to circumvent
The types she will not face,
In using her authority
To snidely put them in their place.
Her manner is too sharp
And too dismissive for my taste
And the condescending smile
Has me grinding teeth to paste.
And the way she stands and taps her toe
And glares beneath her brows
Has the office juniors panicking
And avoiding, as allows.
There’s an issue over paper
And the telephone account
And the petty cash, though balanced,
Is a questionable amount.
Historically our working week
Has employed a give and take
With an easy flexibility
That allows us all a break,
But the new Middle Manager
Has reversed the mode of work
So that everyone competes
And the roster’s gone beserk!
Her manner’s often strident
With a whiplash to her voice
And the snarl of her vindictiveness
Leaves us all with little choice
But to bend our backs to labour,
Work our fingers to the bone
And suffer her till knock off
Then, thank God, we’re fleeing home!
There’s a memo in the “In box”
Rumour has it, from on high,
That due to overdue restructuring,
That some redundancies are nigh.
And though there’s great reluctance
And some measure of regret...
It seems our new Middle Manager
Has got her notice...Sorry Pet!
Marshalg
Victoria Park Tunnel
15 January 2011
Jan 14, 2011
Jan 14, 2011 at 4:38 PM UTC
Hobbling out of bed
Half dead
I'm led
To the bathroom
The shower a vacuum
Of my powerlessness
But first i ****
Then get in
**** out the contaminants
Of my ***** habits
And i scrub
I scrub off
The plastic love
The mean mug
And tug on my ****
Plant a vision til it pops
And drop
To the shower floor
Tilt my head back
And gurgle to the gods
For more
Scrub the grill
Lay a towel on the floor
Suit up for a war
Two sprays of cologne
And im out the door
Headphones on
Angels atoning
To the morning
As im floating
Through the fog
Descending in my grog
Along the path
Like a lab rat
For a slab of cheese
Through the swamps
And trees
Trampling
Dead things
And leafs
And im seen
By nobody
As i ascend a hill
To the corporate power
Where ill cower
For nine hours
Before reporting home
Going to bed
And waking up
To do it all again
Its blue collar zen
And im bored
So fraking bored
With my chores
Id rather scribble sounds
Into forms
Verbal storms
Visual cores
Implored
To explore
The tortured
Terms in torrents
Of turbulent
Talks with dead gods
And im born
Into the horns
Ive sworn
To protect
In widows peaks
And deepened
Speeches
I'm infected
With my perfection
Torn
In the muffled traces
Of noiselessness
Among the space-less
Distances
To my sentences
Taking out the crackles
And recording
Over the blemishes
Relishing
The fragile moments
Of eloquence
In **** jokes
And threatening
Gestures
Jesting
The restructuring
Of molesting
Verbiage beat
Over the mic
Delusions enticed
In my writes
Of fights
In long sleepless nights
Of rhyming
With bad timing
And mumbling
Of slimy things
Bubbling in the cuts
Dubsteped to **** fits
Sunkissed in lacking curtains
Disturbing the certainty
Of sleep
And cheapening
My dreams
Rolling over
Planting my feet
Upon wood floors
Hobbling toward
Tomorrow
Sorrowfully
Repeating
The same thing
Washing away the sleep
And fleeing
My creativity
For the rest of the week
(in progress)
May 7, 2013
May 7, 2013 at 3:38 AM UTC
Nightmares
You are still just
a flash or a scream.
The feeling of losing
my hold
on someone slippery,
for something fleeting
As a young girl, I suspected it:
the carnage of night
Who could have warned me?
How quickly I lost sight
of my role in a cuter world,
holding the brightest light, the guardian
devil, bring me back
to that old familiar cage fight
There are layers of stories within me
peeled back subconsciously where our
atmosphere can contact
It's getting close to a vein
my eyes go skipping over every sound
I'm panicking right now
intensive restructuring
I have lost my way
Vulnerable to pressure
and lonely
Desperate for a push
bologna
I feel so dangerous
I want to love
the warmth of your fire
I bet it feels good
to burn and burn away
Dissipate into ashy air
will you hold me higher
for now? I'm soft I heal quickly I don't disobey
the shear when
it creeps in too far. I get happier
when I find my own stars
I get angrier
when coach scrutinizes my arms
No amount of emotion will bring me closer to life
No color speaks to me
like the bright pigment
from my knuckles
in the corners of my cuticles
over these thighs and ankles
we are only alive briefly
thank god
May 26, 2015
May 26, 2015 at 1:06 AM UTC
A Day in the Now
To the guy sitting across from me on the bus today
Smiling and carrying his groceries to where ever home or
His journey leads, at first I didn’t pay attention.
However, something kept pushing me to take a look
So without seeming as staring or prying I took the look
I could almost feel the tears in your smile, the pain and agony
It takes to produce a wonderful smile in the short glance
I saw the scars of a fire, from first glance as you walked on the bus
Everything seemed normal in appearance, but as I said I wasn’t paying attention
Until I had the feeling to take a look, through you my kind Sir;
God spoke to me with your wonderful smile; God showed me your pain
Which produced that smile and it touched my heart.
You are an inspiration to this man, Sir. God be with you on your Journey.
Later in the day walking back to the bus stop from donating blood
A man comes up to me and says” pardon me, sorry for bothering you
I am not the type of guy who asks for change, and this is embarrassing for me to ask”
I said ok, what’s the problem he said he left his house without his cash and ran out of gas
I said ok, quick glance at him nice clothes and friendly, so I handed him all the change I had in my
pocket and told him Sir that’s all I have but you are welcome to it, it wasn’t much really.
He walked back over to where his car was at the gas station, went inside paid with what he had
As I walked past him he yelled thank you for your help. Nice car, Thank you God.
So as I was waiting for the bus, I started thinking about today I had an hour wait not much else to do
Then it hit me some times God has to breakdown something that’s not working or restructure
In order To build it better his way; (if I said this right.)
So with the toils and strife I have faced personally and wasn’t listening to God as I should have been
God was breaking me down to restructure my life, because the old way was harmful to myself and
It wasn’t his way, and productivity went down. So here I am listening, loving and following Christ
Now as he is breaking my life down and restructuring it into the way he had planned in the first place
Where he leads me I don’t know, I just know where he says I will follow.
A day in the Now
Alan Spivey 9/08/2012
Jun 5, 2013
Jun 5, 2013 at 1:17 PM UTC
I believe we are all innately energy. Energy can never be destroyed, but is subject to constant restructuring it's design while ever leaning towards entropy. How we can inadvertently give a part of ourselves that is then influenced and redesigned even further by the power of someone else's conscious mind, and then eventually spread so far and thin that it's as if we were never there beyond the grave as time passes. Beyond recognition. Take for example the lives we engage ourselves in. Have you ever sat down and said your name, given yourself an assessment of who you are today? Who you feel you are becoming through your actions and desires? Do you remember who you were years ago, or who you thought you might have been but had no possible way of ascertaining? We can't see the future (very far), but our imaginations allow us to dive in to possible futures based on our own self-cognitive intuition, desire, and furthermore by experiences of déjà vu. there are theories suggesting that our minds are so powerful that we send out electromagnetic impulses unconsciously which very well affect the world around us. I've had profound epiphanies like this a few times in my life, and it makes me think about my avoidance to be engaged in the present. And memory is biased towards our desire as well. We can repress our thoughts, blur years of experience, or forget them entirely. With all this said, I would like to end with a George R. R. Martin quote which concludes my belief that we are all inherently and innately forms of all types of energy, because for most, this is true.
"Men live their entire lives trapped in an eternal present, between the mists of memory and the sea of shadow that is all we know of the days to come."
Jul 1, 2014
Jul 1, 2014 at 1:27 AM UTC
Can we ever tread pathways which surpass the expectations of our fallibility?
Loss can be beautiful, as she pronounces her unforgiving denials, whilst solace sheds her tears of joy at the unity around the richness of nothingness.
Similarly, arrival can be likened to departure, and departure can be likened to arrival.
It is important to understand that cognitive restructuring along pathways of Celtic and sombre insight is releasing, especially when precipitation falls unrelentingly upon the skull of a dead sheep.
May 31, 2014
May 31, 2014 at 11:59 PM UTC
In other to have order
restored by the power
that be,
the elites must have a
message to harness
the rule of law to affect
the public and protect
the people they govern.
Restructuring is a
prerequisite for a
time such as this.
The states must be given
more power to handle affairs
of the people.
True federalism is to put up
a structure for the sake of
posterity and the benefits that
comes out of it for the
people involved.
As simple as it is,
we as a people must be
ready to confront all the
rigours of austerity of which
some amount of sacrifices
are expected regardless of the
outcome and results from our
collective decisions.
Restructuring is a must for proper performance and perfection for
a magnificent and excellently
successful unified progress.
Balance must be restated and restored.
A valued economic recovery and growth
is expected to reach its peak at the end.
Our lives as a people must be valued for all this to work and marvelously manifest itself.
©2018,Emeka Mokeme. All Rights Reserved.
Sep 9, 2018
Sep 9, 2018 at 6:08 PM UTC
adapt
like a bird
building a nest
out of discarded newspaper
a small animal's bones
restructuring
readjusting
around the plastic rings
that once held soda cans
learn to stay put
if you were meant to fly
but find yourself
caged
adapt
change your body chemistry
alter your consciousness
to fit in
where you were not made to
Apr 26, 2017
Apr 26, 2017 at 5:14 PM UTC
It was that fateful dream when I closed my eyes,
And was met with a sheer vast nothingness.
It was within that abyss that a flickering light emerged.
I reached out, hoping it was sentient, but I was playfully deceived.
It was a mere candle, burning bright and bleeding its waxy exterior.
My hand rested above the slow burn, anticipating some sort of pain
to offset this dreaded abyss that encompassed my peculiar unity.
Fortunately for I, the light only burned brighter with increased intensity.
The illumination continued to dance around my body in a mesmerizing display,
But was abruptly interrupted by a soft tap on my shoulder.
A silhouette of a woman whom I couldn’t seem to pinpoint, stood before my gaze.
Although the flickering candle seemed to dim, a hand outstretched could still be made out,
As if anticipating for my palm to meet hers.
I obliged the offer.
Memories, past and potential, were so vibrant that materialization became second nature.
Former lovers greeted me with a genuine smile, but soon dissipated,
while two manifestations of my preconceived identity stood before me.
One of a child and one of a near distant future, each possessing a poisoning barb,
that carries with it, an omnipotent plague I’m self-burdened with.
A nod is all I could muster, to signify to these unhappy souls that it’s okay to suffer,
and more importantly, to have acceptance from what has already happened.
You cannot change the pain you once felt, but you can change how you feel now.
A blinding light emerged and I was met with a mirror,
that defied the standard protocols of how a reflection should be portrayed.
The reflection sat while I stayed standing, and he smiled while I remained inquisitive.
Brothers held the reflection’s shoulders while friends stood beside in succession.
The final curtain of truth finally revealed: I’ve always been loved.
The silhouette faded and I was left with only a puddle of that once bright candle.
The wax may have fully melted, but it can always be repurposed.
A restructuring of the same foundation, but perhaps with a fresh style or scent.
You don’t have to conform to the same specification you once were at.
The pain and suffering has passed and a new candle is upon you, so
burn away the toxins that you’ve left behind and retrieve that which you lost;
The inner peace that has always been a light against life’s troubled abyss.
Jun 24, 2021
Jun 24, 2021 at 6:11 PM UTC
RESTRUCTURING
New oneself,
new me
new you,
new us,
new world,
new life
new mindset,
makes
the race of
babies
that
generate
new
creative
ideas, new
possibilities
and
opportunities,
new
days and
new ways.
New thangs.
But only
happiness
doesn't
change, it's
divine. But
new
more ways
to
happiness is
strictly
positive vibes.
#c9_fm
Dec 14, 2020
Dec 14, 2020 at 5:57 PM UTC
rigid steel creaking,
squeaking to announce
it's monumental motion,
defying once static devotion
hear ye! hear ye!
the rusted machine is
jolting back to life
like clockwork, completing
patterns encoded by
calloused fingertips, pressing,
pushing, prodding, pleading with
stiff, achey keys to
punch
the storyline
back
into
place.
naive program under illusion
of sentient choice,
springs open arms
to rejoice the repeated reinforcement
of recurrent information,
fed & regurgitated & re-ingested to be fermented
in crystalline form of mind,
tinkered into alignment
by sinister hands with crude cracks,
leaking oil.
discordant dance of metal,
twirling tango
wrought with perilous footwork
to outline the model of assumed complexity
that shrouds the simple harmony
of one-two one-two -
one step after the other, followed by another
steady rhythm of cause & effect.
go head, neglect, or reject, only to
crawl back in reflection to beg for
one more turn round the ferris wheel,
to glimpse the heights of insanity
that reach ultimate clarity
of infinite perspectives unfolding,
one into another, projected onto lovers
and strangers - all alike.
add your rambling writing
of realizations, remembrances, & rehearsals
onto my hard drive,
I want to reiterate - I am learning slowly.
rereading &
restructuring pages
of this minute history.
maybe one day I'll recall
that practice
precedes progress.
Sep 21, 2014
Sep 21, 2014 at 9:02 PM UTC
hi my name is and I believe in expand out
myself as community together remain seated
small businesses and growth rend your vision with lens
finance and restructuring of sedatives and phlegm
downsizing and expansion
small businesses and growth the cannibal chair of a limbless corpse
small businesses and growth the social vision of
small businesses and growth erected stone and allotted plots
look away
where?
To the future
how?
Remain positive
with respect to what-
-Don't ask that
but
-shh
shh
shh.
Sep 29, 2016
Sep 29, 2016 at 6:16 PM UTC
i dont like the feelings you give me
like discarded gifts with ripped wrapping paper,
a "sorry" and a promise for more later.
anger builds like a carpenter early in the morning
restructuring and stabilizing walls i put up
for people like you, and i knew but here i am.
always relying on the world outside myself
to lend a hand. and god **** can i breathe please?
suffocating on everything you think i should be
where's the spiritual audit?
where's karma?
where's the righteous accounting for being everything i said i was, for not doing the things you think i did, and for not dying.
no cameras to show how ****** up this all is,
no one to hold my hand tightly as they say what i really needed to hear two years ago:
NOT THIS ONE.
Jun 10, 2025
Jun 10, 2025 at 8:54 PM UTC
The alchemy of liberation,
a violent restructuring of the self, upheaval of desire and history
We speak truth in the lexica of negation, subjugate our demons and project them onto the sky, phantasmagoria of dreams and nightmares, visions, fetish, reality consumption,
And this, too, is a god state, an architect of **********
altered chemistry and planes of being,
Assuming total control over synapse and viscera, sublimation of cells and holy organs,
Feed the burning engines of will and achieve a greater porosity, togetherness,
Free flowing energy between bodies and burdens, from hearts to hands to fists,
Passed down generationally through endless struggle,
Ghosts of a zeitgeist,
spirits of spirits,
hang restless like guillotine blades thirsting the flesh of something weak and divine, to be profaned, chewed up and spat out into the grinding wheel of industry,
god machine reaping soul machine,
conscious machine chaining freedom machine, naturally occurring fascism of the mind
Place your hands on our everburning turbines and turn your face towards brilliance,
Unsurrender hell, be carried to purpose on the shoulders of devils who once enslaved you
Forge in the crucible of uprising, a new identity, of steel and bomb shell casing,
A new language, born of rope, instinct, survival
Enter the twisting vortex of feeling and emerge as your own father, with all the trauma and fresh pressed suits that implies
Melt down that which oppresses to its base elements,
fear, rage, alienation, loss, want
transmute them into air to breathe,
water to drink,
earth to build,
fire to warm,
or gold to share,
In this way we shall grow rich off that which once killed us,
Make your misery a hammer,
And set to the work of reconstruction
Mar 22, 2018
Mar 22, 2018 at 5:59 PM UTC
maybe i can
try to give you
a new place
take your hand
walk you down
mold you anew
from overlord to
fly on the wall
you won't die
but you will
be less annoying
i hope
Aug 5, 2022
Aug 5, 2022 at 3:22 PM UTC
Life is a flowing river
Running against hard rocks
Cutting through powers
Creating beauty in gold
Moulding dross into emeralds
Restructuring odds into cataracts
Falling rapidly in waterfalls
Bringing itself to glorious gaze.
Mar 26, 2019
Mar 26, 2019 at 2:39 AM UTC
You were telling me about the latest report of the Intergovernmental Panel and the necessity of fundamentally restructuring the socioeconomic system
Oh look
the global fossil fuel resources
a butterfly
natural gas developments
it's fluttered down
Yes I'm listening...carbon capture
as if the sky were shedding petals
Regulations on emissions, I agree
it's exactly the blue of
bridge fuel to renewables
Look! There it goes
climate catastrophe
I just have to capture
death sentence of our generation
just that moment when it
vanishes back into the blue
seems to become part of the sky
May 23, 2019
May 23, 2019 at 5:57 PM UTC
Butchering
they're butchering
restructuring
demolishing and
polishing off the past
whatever happened to those things
they said were built to last?
Aug 19, 2016
Aug 19, 2016 at 5:39 AM UTC
cerebral particles emanate as dreams vaporize, vile creatures roam untethered, a blinding flicker, the world crumbles.
firmly committed beliefs diminish into oblivion as the absence of hope provokes unprecedented forlornness, setting in motion a societal restructuring into mass hysteria and perpetual insanity. The end precedes anew, humanity falls silent,
as nefarious roisterings echo amidst the surroundings.
Sep 9, 2020
Sep 9, 2020 at 8:52 AM UTC