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"ricans" poems
There's always been one word I could not figure. Why do we use that vile word ****** We've been called that word since we go off the boat. And now we think that word fits us as if it were a coat. It rolls off our tongue so very smooth. It's as if we don't know another word to use. It's become a part of our culture and a part of our life. Men say it to there children and even to their wife. But when white people say it we pull out a knife. I hear Mexicans say it and Puerto Ricans too. But when they say it, it's ok with you. That's one foul word and sometimes I use it to. I'm trying not to, and so should you. There's nothing good in that word. Not one little letter.  We are not stupid people. We need to get better. That's one six letter word we don't need anymore. That's one six letter word we should kick out the door. Because when we use that word every single day. That one little word will never go away. R.Mendoza
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May 17, 2014
May 17, 2014 at 6:08 AM UTC
The word ******
Germans, love to be funny German-English, love to be friends Trinis, love to work hard English, love to talk loud Bajan, love to travel Hmong-Americans, love to look classy Korean-English, love to hangout Koreans, look good in "gangsta" Tobagonians, love to give gifts Americans, love fresh vegetables Chinese-Americans, love butter biscuits Canadians, don't know that one guy Kenyans, love Ethiopian food Guineans, are the best Arabic teachers Jordanians, love Kentucky Fried chicken Brazilians, love Trinidad Brazilian-Americans, have 5 kids Puerto Ricans, love Ecuadorians Ecuadorians, love Puerto Ricans Peruvian-Americans, love concert piano
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Aug 2, 2016
Aug 2, 2016 at 12:25 PM UTC
friends without borders
What a horrible scene to watch thousands of policemen packed with guns, shields and mace instead of open books to read. What a horrible scene to watch thousands of students getting beaten and chased like rodents because they decided to speak. What a horrible scene to watch thousands of children without hope, without dreams, because they will fail to pay the Dean. What a beautiful scene to watch thousands of Puerto Ricans united, without fear, without weakness because they decided to fight for what they believe. by J.B.H.
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Oct 2, 2011
Oct 2, 2011 at 11:53 AM UTC
UPR Strike
Please for the love of God help my people. 3.5 million U.S. citizens live on the island and are in need of help. America you claim you want to help your people well let’s start with people who truly need it. America your necessities are their luxuries. Puerto Rico was not yours to begin with But now that you’ve claimed us at least take care of us We don’t ask for much We are only asking for the ability to breathe and read books I didn’t know that was such a high demand My people are suffering With no water to drink or bathe We are left with the stench of hopelessness Because America, you are more concerned with toupees Than your own people Yes, I did not stutter Your people, Puerto Ricans No not the immigrants because we are not immigrants Our passports are twins not fraternal Why do you like us when we hit a baseball or sing some tune on American Idol We are doctors We are cashiers We are students trying to better our lives We are a people begging for help Do not look at us and turn away My island was once a beautiful place where birds sang in harmony And the coquis call smoothed the worst of souls We don't know this island anymore because our island is America’s landfill A place where the government tested nuclear bombs without thinking of its own people The people are living on faint hope backed the knowledge that tomorrow probably won't be better Why do you, America, want us like this America you ask me why do I care so much about an island I haven't been to I care because my roots flow back to the land 100 miles across the sea One that I have the ability to call home from my rented home here America, you created this land so people of all nations and backgrounds could have a chance at a better life My people are still waiting for this promise to be fulfilled America we beg you, help us My people are suffering We are tired of being the last pick for the team we didn’t even want to join We are tired of the rottened mold you have put us in So let this be a warning that your mold is finally falling apart because of your greed Do not blame us for this You are the hand clamped onto ours and forced us to cover our mouths America, Puerto Ricans are ready to talk so we can live in harmony All you have to do is take our hand off our mouths
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May 17, 2016
May 17, 2016 at 11:19 PM UTC
My island
Please for the love of God help my people. 3.5 million U.S. citizens live on the island and are in need of help. America you claim you want to help your people well let’s start with people who truly need it. America your necessities are their luxuries. Puerto Rico was not yours to begin with But now that you’ve claimed us at least take care of us We don’t ask for much We are only asking for the ability to breathe and read books I didn’t know that was such a high demand My people are suffering With no water to drink or bathe We are left with the stench of hopelessness Because America, you are more concerned with toupees Than your own people Yes, I did not stutter Your people, Puerto Ricans No not the immigrants because we are not immigrants Our passports are twins not fraternal Why do you like us when we hit a baseball or sing some tune on American Idol We are doctors We are cashiers We are students trying to better our lives We are a people begging for help Do not look at us and turn away My island was once a beautiful place where birds sang in harmony And the coquis call smoothed the worst of souls We don't know this island anymore because our island is America’s landfill A place where the government tested nuclear bombs without thinking of its own people The people are living on faint hope backed the knowledge that tomorrow probably won't be better Why do you, America, want us like this America you ask me why do I care so much about an island I haven't been to I care because my roots flow back to the land 100 miles across the sea One that I have the ability to call home from my rented home here America, you created this land so people of all nations and backgrounds could have a chance at a better life My people are still waiting for this promise to be fulfilled America we beg you, help us My people are suffering We are tired of being the last pick for the team we didn’t even want to join We are tired of the rottened mold you have put us in So let this be a warning that your mold is finally falling apart because of your greed Do not blame us for this You are the hand clamped onto ours and forced us to cover our mouths America, Puerto Ricans are ready to talk so we can live in harmony All you have to do is take our hand off our mouths
Continue reading...
44
I remember when We fought those Angry Puerto Ricans With their shiny knives And one of them got you In your thigh, John. I held your head in my Lap as the blood from my Nose trickled down your Neck and chest and we Were pretty drunk and Very high on who knows What and you asked if You were going to die. I said, "No, John. It's Just in your thigh." I remember that look; Disappointment. A furrowed brow and You threw a gaze To the wood-line in the east. We all knew that feel. The disappointment when Death evaded us. Cunning fellow.
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Feb 1, 2013
Feb 1, 2013 at 12:39 PM UTC
Puerto Ricans and Disappointment
The black folk have lost their mends, The Asian man lost his sense. The white woman lost her wealth, The native fam lost they land. The middle eastern have lost their hope, The Porto Ricans have lost their stand. Maiyan people made a calender, Curious people called it pretend. Egyptians had built the pyramids, We called it aliens. Donald enforces police brutality, Why is he president. Tupac got shot for screaming peace, Martin luther, the same deal. Fake messages give new heat, Raw truth sends chill feels. Death by death by the minute, Where is Hollywood's most broad. Catastrophe by country, This comic book chaos needs to stop. Protesters reeking havoc, Social media distorts what's real. Toronto politics lookin loopy, Landlord & tenant laws openly under veil. Scooby and shaggy uncover a hundred Frauds, yet still fear the devils friends. People seem to refuse to stop and drop, their pride, because it protects their remaining innocence.
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Oct 16, 2017
Oct 16, 2017 at 12:55 PM UTC
remaining innocence
the hippies called the puerto ricans spics the puerto ricans called the hippies cabrones not much love there but mostly they got along sharing the dirt and hopeless avenues i knew a girl with long legs and longer hair who stood barefoot on the corner of 110th Street and Lexington Avenue selling flowers she only had one gift to give and she gave it and in the rain her petals washed down the gutters and magically made the streets clean again    ~mce
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Oct 24, 2015
Oct 24, 2015 at 5:03 PM UTC
Spanish Harlem 1969
i always say my neighborhood's got flavor you say i give it too much credit but what the **** do you know about the puerto ricans across the street who's little girls dance on plump legs to music that vibrates their entire house sure, you've seen the kingpin that lives on our corner, but you don't know that he plays catch with his drug dealer's kids and all those refugees crowding up your corner store, they're looking for an answer just like you are, but the difference is they've got nothing to fall back on because they're thousands of miles from a friendly face and home so when i tell you my neighborhood's got flavor you should really say i don't give it credit enough
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Aug 7, 2012
Aug 7, 2012 at 3:04 PM UTC
flavor
2/19/2015 note: this poem reflects my political views. I don't support puerto rico's independence but i codemn the way the USA has treated it. If you're not familiar with PR's political situation or don't follow Puerto Rican centric politics you'll be lost af. Anyways this is basically the day to day life i had when i lived back in PR, and my thoughts. I hate americans. They ask me, especially the independentista youth, that think they're special and especially, communist revolutionaries, "why? after all you are a Rich Kid." Nah, you don't understand. coming out of the stairs of St. Johnnies with my uniform i see them walking with their cameras and tanners me filling up with a very real digust. and when I sit on the metro train to San Patricio (and what a life, when I see the drug addicts on the metro with nowhere to go and the industrial hills of Catano) I only see my fellow puerto ricans and i am relieved. escaping the americanness of Ashford Ave. and when I get to Los Meadows I tell my friends, the Rich Kids, How is it that those sons-of-bitches can destroy our grand isle, with their nuclear garbage their doctors ruining our native women and, from their offices in the mainland, teaching us english just to send the little country peasants of Arecibo and Juncos to die in their wars? and then they have the audacity to take their things and visit our beaches?
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Feb 20, 2015
Feb 20, 2015 at 9:54 AM UTC
Rich Kids By the Beach (eng. translation)
I said i like the smell of whiskey and the whole cabin was filled with puerto ricans and chile pepper seeds scattered on the floor, a hundred pots lined up on the stove with rouxs and sweet syrups, masa mixed with pork broth, shortening and garlic the men lining the porch in sunglasses and blue wranglers going on about the rig or Virginia or Hurricane Matthew-- what is it? about running away? I thought; time passes so fast I've clipped pieces from the past, snapshots i've unknowingly gathered Uncle Dude three sheets out, standing in the kitchen after you'd been drinking all day, your mom reminiscing in the corner with tired eyes and stained fingers from wine,raisins, condensed milk, consoling a drunk neighbor, (Florida State won earlier) through the screen while you reclined in the sun or the rotating image of your heels crunching through the long morning grass. I'd been sustained on quiche that needed no seasoning, coffee creamer, cherry pie and the feeling of slipping bare feet into boots, on quiet, on   dark forearms and white biceps the print of a little bird ring, dark, brittle nights that smelled like cigars and Coors-- I've been trying to talk to God all weekend but I think he's gone. I think I'm alone. I think I've run away. I'm home, but there's nobody here.
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Oct 13, 2016
Oct 13, 2016 at 10:26 AM UTC
Puerto Rican Jaunts.
To help our fellow Puerto Ricans Puerto your Ricans Over to the United States Where they can abate The traumaization There's beautiful girls from every nation Let's provide their people some elation They suffered enough abrasions Already
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Oct 12, 2017
Oct 12, 2017 at 7:28 PM UTC
Puerto
No department of Education No anti-corruption No health care and dental care No unemployment benefits No social security benefits When you’re old enough to retire No help for people in needs, no welfare No grants or loans for college students No housing vouchers for elderly parents No rules or regulations for the Stock Markets No lawsuits against criminal cops Due to immunity, they can **** anybody in the streets And there’s more, more will fall in the craps Many people will die sooner, before their time Believe me that will be a sad crime If you want an unfriendly and dishonest America Vote for the fascist and friends of the SAGA Otherwise, vote for the intelligent Woman Who will never insult and disrespect Asians Native Americans, Black Americans Caucasians, Haitians, Jamaicans Puerto Ricans, Europeans Human beings, Africans Latinos and poor White Americans. Copyright © November 2024, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved. Hébert Logerie is the author of numerous collections of poetry.
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Nov 3, 2024
Nov 3, 2024 at 11:50 AM UTC
Vote For, If You Want
Since i met rakim i became a microphone fiend Been Big since i had dreams magazines Limousine picture me getting cream Ridiculous suckas turn suspicious Once they see my money grow vicious Mk ultra a beat silence the elite repeat See my tactics could wipe a navy fleet Smoke torpedos this is for ya pendejos Hating only my flows check these holes As the blood pours left ya with open pores Ya finna soar to the skies with no floor Floating like Casper villian master Taster any beat i eat with no receipt Needed multiple guns beaming Flashback ya back into the future Got ya mind to time slippin' still rippin' Sucka emcees glide it like Cal Ripken Sippin' the baddest sins once again With Thick chicks from African to Puerto Ricans   Dominican Let's go time traveling javeling Fools hiding behind the bushes Only truces when my guns going in dueces Extension gooses back to the Canada mooses Yo im a bull make ya winkle as I get rocky Jab sicker than Ali why me try me sly me They dont wanna see the devil dance Glance rhymes to beats greets romance Unzip ya girls pants make her beg for one more chance Hit her with the dopest stance Cup the mic like it was a baby Fresh outta the womb from the tombs Your consumed by the blossom To booms yo fools gotta make rooms Gods Is back black melanin attacks Swift as the slash of an axe Causin' cell damaging impact "yeahhhh"
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Nov 16, 2019
Nov 16, 2019 at 6:06 AM UTC
Run-Cheroz