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JayVeeThePrince Jan 2015
It's a **** shame.. These girls are so different yet they are the same.. A figment of imagination .. To draw a line in the divine pigment and foundation.. 2 Queens in the same race.. In the same race.. Can't get along because of the tone on their face... Whatever the case I wish you all could get first place.. Don't let the color of your skin have you unfit within... I wish I could undraw that a line with the pen.. Of self hate that they handed us.. We didn't wanna hate eachother they demanded us... These skin tones... They tore us apart from the field to the kitchen.. Enough of the ******* & *******.. QUEENS PRAISE QUEENS!!!!! And that final.. Instead of making enemies.. Make yourself someone's idol... Don't let this world segregate a segregated being.. I'm dedicating this to you.. Every dark skinned & light skinned Queen... ONE LOVE...
Matt Jursin Jan 2010
Lets stop n slam on somethin' shameful like war and anguish...
'Cause im pretty sure that tremendous termoil and suffering and starvation is the same in all languages...
But something that most of us will never know...
'Cause in this country you tend to grow a fat *** as you grow old.
Give this countries cold dark history a warm embrace, look it in the face!
All this killing, death, distruction, and disease...more war than peace!
Something most of us will never see, much less feel...Because ignoring it is so much easier.
We'd rather be pleasing ourselves than siezing the keys to this country!

Jump in.
Take a sunday drive for freedom.
Sunday football keeps you occupied...
Kicked back in the recliner, while others freeze in the name of the flag.
And your constitution.
And the human condition.
Patriotism is not pretty to the petty.
To...those getting rich, hand over fist...
On your...vacant homes, vacant jobs, and vacant votes.
While they vacate our education with more lousy legislation.

We get lazier and sleezier and sloppier.
We pass judgement on our fellow man...
While we let politicians pass bills that destroy this great land.
Hand over fist, hand over hand washes the other politicians ****.
These dinosaurs with their special interest agendas make me sick.

Stand up strait.
Look at me when I talk to you.

Dont turn a blind eye to all the bodies that once hung from loops...
Remember where we came from.
Re-write history like the bible.
Re-write war and peace.

We call soldiers "property of uncle sam".
Brainwashed to believe in 'the man' and his plans.
Slavery doesn't segregate anymore.
We're all in on this together.
This time.
We stand in unison.
All in on this together.
Revolution is freedom.
"I love this country...but f this government!"
Thoughtful May 2015
we so easily pluck weeds from the garden
because the look unruly and don’t go with the tulips
but in life
we don’t segregate the suicidal, emotional, and unstable
because they are that way
from the steady breathers
we are a world of dandelions
with a rare tulip
because even weeds can be beautiful
Kevin J Taylor Jun 2016
Yes, segregate.
Create a slum for me.
Build walls.

Render us apart.
Not all poems survive. I've lost a few and let others go. My current collection of poems is available on Kindle. It is called "3201 e's" (that is approximately how many e's are in the manuscript which is a very unpoetic title but a reflection on the creation of poetry from common things.)
Ahmad Cox Dec 2013
There are some people
Who think very logically
They have a hard time
Seeing anything that
Doesn't make sense in
Their minds and that
Doesn't fit into their
Ideas of what is
Logical and right and
What they can see right
In front of their eyes
There are also the
People who understand
And comprehend the
World around them
Through their feelings
And emotions and
Can see the bigger
Picture and the bigger
Plan easier than most
We all make up our
Own parts and we
All have our own
Purpose and even
Though we are all
Different in our own
Ways we must learn to
Appreciate the wonderful
Differences that make
Up the whole and
To see and take notice
Of the wonderful and
Beautiful diversity of
Life and of people and
Of thoughts and even
Of the Earth as well
As we begin to
Celebrate the diversity
Instead of trying to
Segregate and separate
Ourselves based on our
Differences we should
Be trying to learn and
Understand from each
Other instead of trying
To conquer and subjugate
People to our ideas and
Ways of thinking we should
Be trying to see things
From the other side of
Things and understanding
There is more the life than
Right or wrong and trying
To prove yourself to others
And seeing that even with
All of our differences we
Are for more connected
And alike than we all
Could imagine and once
We understand that simple
Truth everything else starts
To fall into place as we start
To see the beautiful diversity
And the wonder of life as
We begin to see things
More completely and
Understand we are all
Parts of one big great
Diverse community that
We call the human race
Tony Scallo Oct 2014
My mind never turns off
Like light from the stars after dawn
My conscious switch has been stomped
By the force of biology
And I can’t get a grip
My thoughts continue to romp
Out loud, and I scream them
Cause they scream at me too
I have no control of it
There’s nothing I can do

Conscious and subconscious?
I don’t believe in separation of the two
I think a mile a minute
My mind is a rendezvous
For both of their needs
They help fuel me,
And segregate only when I refuse to be free

I must say,
It makes everything more fun
The sky seems so vast
And every single blade of grass
Is just as interesting as the one next to it
Every rain drop of dew
Shines with a light
On lawn where it grew,
From the sun that shuns
It’s growth, when it hides beyond the clouds
I breathe it in when it decides to come out
It’s life

I just want to sing the thoughts I have
Because I don’t know
How to say them all, without forgetting
In the next few minutes,
When my mind is burned with then need
To explore even more
Mateuš Conrad Aug 2018
sure, first we had the schism
of the church & state...
"oddly" enough...
we now live in the 2nd tier
of schism -
  the segregation of
                  state & media...
         we're not?!
           i'm kind of enjoying
this ongoing schismatics -
    the segregation of church
from state, at least left us with
the Vatican (i.e. the church-state) -
but this, current...
segregation of state from
the media?
      **** me cram my testicles
into a monkey-wrench
and subsequently watch me laugh...
and there i was thinking,
that psychiatrists,
were the new priests of
the secular age...
prescribing the alt. to
the metaphor of cannibalism
in the form of big pharmacological
pills, to replace the wafer for
or the watered down wine /
grape juice of the...
    so how does that party trick goes?
is that the wine turned into blood?
   turned water into wine:
  and then burgundy of
cardinal red teasing the bishopric
coloring of purple?
i'm not here to undermine
the faith...
   i'm here for the self-deprecating
you don't even require
atheism to get a laugh
out of the conundrum -
you, simply need...
the deviation from the catholic
           an apostasy -
but sure as **** it's there...
secularism has allowed
journalism a monastic status...
first came the schism of
church from state -
   which remained intact in
the church-state of the Vatican...
so... FAIL...
secondly had to come
the schism of the state from
the media...
               i'm watching a schism
take place...
        the comparative concern
of church's divorce from
the state was easy,
having imploded into the Vatican...
but the divorce of
the media from the state?
        apparently... not so easy...
the media is already locking-down
on obstructing the schism -
arguing from an entertainment
       a century or so later,
and still, the persistent,
media symbolism -
     of crafting caricatures of
a state...
   as the state embodied in
nothing more than subordination
to its will...
media is the new church...
and if the separation of the state
from the church took so long...
how much time, do you "think",
it will it take, for the state
to segregate itself, from the media
  i suspect - as much time as it
took to segregate itself from
    the church's cardinal-lineage.
I grew up knowing to accept hate
It was a childhood version of how to segregate
Children were never kind to me through the years
Forming more hate that built up and filled with fears
I was lucky compared to most kids though
I never had a true taste of hate I had yet to know
In the past kids were segregated for their race
It was as if this entire world bashed them for taking up some space
The entire nation was once split in two
Brother after brother is something we all knew
The north and south each all fighting for something not alike
But that only made the hope of happiness winning to begin to spike
A great man stood in the great battle field between us all
Un-segregating those who needed it afterall
He was shot dead fighting for what he wanted
Some people really didn't know his hopes and they felt daunted
Today we fight another battlefield of pain
Thought must of this fighting is in vain
A man took the lives of many Americans twelve years ago
Destroyed the very being of America that we used to know
When the depression ran throught the nation
We still had to deal with all of the segregation
It ran through all of us as people living in peace
Chopping us up as humans without need piece by piece
Another war is in sight though we choose not to see it
A fatal blow to many of us as if we got hardly hit
Seperation throught the nation through segregation in our own eye
Whether we be gay, straight, trans, or even bi
We're all still people and still human
If only we truly knew about it then
I grew up in a world free of most types of hate
But we all knew we all live in a world who chooses to segregate
This is like my own rant in poem form, or a slam poem as some call it. So it is all true. First time attempt at one of these, so... yeah.
Mateuš Conrad Nov 2015
it’s not everyday you get to end a 7 year psychosis
when redecorating your room to it’s “original” crimson,
having had such a simple symptom as
brain cell membranes breaking and oozing blood out,
to be misdiagnosed as mentally insane,
and when in need of help from the haemorrhage
not driven to the hospital due to the lack of *******
of having proceeded with the deed but forgetting the onslaught of law
in favour of the hurt party... well...what can you do?
move on, as i’m trying, had it been naturally based
on genetic chronology / genealogy i would have suffered in vain...
but i’m brimming with a hate for islam, and there’s nothing
to do but calm the quasi-communist protestors
in the western lands... ******* calm down... you’ll get
your freedom of speech... once you stop trying to censor vocabulary...
there’s no point learning a language if it becomes
politicised and you tell me to block vowels or consonants
in a non-kabbalistic way (which i’ll come to):
so yeah, a 7 year psychosis over a needle in a haystack...
gives me the shivers...
the many times i thought about killing someone
and feeding the emotions with not doing the act...
so many times i was almost skeletally biased to churn the
marrow haemoglobin into tendon stressor action of taking
the knife and doing halal or kosher with someone...
many a many a times i saw crucifixions in edinburgh
not knowing it was going to happen in syria,
and that night when a muslim tried to mug me
in brick lane breaking down in the street of revellers
kneeling in tears screaming a prayer with tears in my eyes
of only one word: allah.
so i started redecorating my room, crimson is back from
hospital white... my bookshelf is rearranged...
on the left on the top shelf fictional books i either read
or didn’t bother to read because of the movies...
to the right on the shelf psychiatric and philosophical books...
the next shelf is a poetry “corner,” well it elongates beyond the corner...
and it’s split by a dictionary with the right bit of the shelf filled
with english poetry and some literature that’s poetic, and french,
the dictionary is planted to segregate the poetry books,
to the left of the dictionary is a book of greek myths
(did you know all greek theology is derived from the new testament
and not from the testament of orpheus or hercules or Perseus?),
then a book on meditative kabblah... then polish books of poetry.
so i rearranged the room, but i also lodged
an essayist’s book on melancholia, a book on depression
a book on an intro. to jung and a book on
schizophrenia lodged between these massive collections:
to the left all the art books... to the right all the books concerning chemistry...
so the books in between can’t really be seen.
as of today i woke with a p.s. from dreams, or a p.s. in dreams,
i woke and imagined myself talking to my mother
about the identity of al-dajjal... the false messiah,
within the conscious realm i just said the words out of the window:
fool you fool me, when mecca / medina become west of paris / london,
i’ll accept riyadh to be east of tehran / new delhi...
then we'll marginalise plateau east with copernican east
via the stars, and wander aimlessly trying to copper-fill
the sun at sunset...
he (muhammad) said the man would be of his nation,
and he said so with a warning...
but ibn saud got away weighing in at 160kg, diabetic and a brawler
with the stomach, the decadent of all that choose either sugary decadence
or some other form of mental instability in the chosen trade of stolen organs.
me? i keep my sanity with the tetragrammaton, cipher this:
this numerology *******, and it is ******* will not do...
enter platonic forms:
y is so so much more than just 25...
what will you see through y with the number 25?
what? nothing, dry brute that i am...
Y represent 3 dimensional space...
the first h is not important given the second h... which is deja vu,
which is less than what malachi insisted with the fractioned god of
the fractioned “elijah” reincarnated...
deja vu can be explained with science as one of the brain’s tricks
to sense this familiarity of seeing an elephant and acknowledging
the five blind men touching it up for comparative jokes,
the W... well... at least it’s not M... given that the trigonometric cosine continuum
begins at 1.... god is one... ring a bell? well better that than
beginning with the trigonometric sine continuum, which begins with 0...
forget numerology... numbers and letters aren’t related...
forget the dogmatism of rabbis - it makes no sense to say a = 1, b = 2 etc.
and then take a word like ape, and say: ‘ah, a = 1, p = 16 and e = 5; by god!
that’s a kabbalistic synonymity of the word... pea!’
where’s the jolly green giant when you need him, eh?
just look at what a phonetic symbol represents...
like secondary darwinism of a primate hissing to alert the presence
of a snake... past darwinism... past drawing antelopes
in french caves... in the realm of abstract phoneticism that
gave us the cognitive genesis... and made as... dare i say... a bit myopic
in a solipsistic sense.
p.s. ah... what are the newspapers saying?
slapstick humour is one of the prime causes of dementia? huh?!
yes, prime minister... is satire comedy?
how the hell can yes, prime minister be categorised as satire
if it uses canned laughter?
see that bloke over there... doing the omnivore pelican dance?
he joked so readily and active that he created authentic laughter...
don’t know where your satire is going... but it certainly left me gagging
for a springroll.
now now... absurdist comedy is too oxbridge for me...
kings and gentlemen get educated in either st. andrew’s or edinburgh...
we laugh at ourselves.
alt. to canned laughter, given that "canned laughter"
is reserved for the authentic laughter of the crowd
at a live show? what's the antonym of canned laughter
in televised satire? picky laughter... i.e. only one person
in an schoolroom of 30 gets the joke, apart from the comedian...
that lonely everest ha ha... ooh chills, frozen prawns in gravy.
Joseph Schneider Jun 2014
He sits being torn through words of scorn
The realisation is starting to form

Through broken letters of hate and neglect
One finds his own inner respect

Now understands what they call "forgiveness"
Even though these lines are relentless

They're broken attempts to dismay his heart
These segregate demons apart

For he is now a growing system
Growing stronger in rhythm

Accepting light in new places
Welcoming new faces

All he desires is be the best he can be
That being said
"He" is me

-Joseph B Schneider
© Joseph B Schneider. All rights reserved

Sometimes when someone is verbally abusing you. You need to remember words aren't always meant in tone spoken, and not everyone knows your story.
Amitav Radiance Feb 2015
Sometimes you are caught
Between the intersections
Of you and your reflection
Wondering, about the reality
So much happens between
Exchanges with your reflection
Mirroring what you want to see
And what reality actually is
Try to touch the portrayed image
Segregate the inner reality
And the outer façade for the world
Mirror what you really are
And your reflection will embrace you
Given the clarity, that shatters
The reflection of a reflection
Thus blossoms the image from the heart
Mirror will be glistening with pride
Tommy Johnson Apr 2014
You live with eyes closed
Walk with an arrogant stride
You keep your hands clean
And your nose held high
There's a whole world screaming
But you just walk on by
And ignore the world's trouble
The burdens it bares
Because you dare not interfere
You ignore it because you're scared
It isn't your problem so you don't care

There's racism
And sexism all over the globe
Poverty, human trafficking
And still your shoulder is cold
Drug cartels, corrupt politicians
Murderous rapists without any souls
And you're just as guilty if I may be so bold
You just sit there and stare
Because you dare not interfere
You ignore it because you're scared
It isn't your problem so you don't care

You're busy chasing the American dream
A glorious promise riches and liberty
But the hand that feeds and you wanna shake is giving the bird to you
While it taxes our rights and confiscates our freedom of speech
And you take it like a ******* gimp
As it keeps our inspiration and aspirations out of reach
You should stand up and fight for what's yours
And I urge you to grow a pair
Because you dare not interfere
You ignore it because you're scared
It isn't your problem so you don't care

You have faith in the higher-ups
In our country, in God we trust
It's all a bust
You must protect your privileges
And help in our progression
Equality for and freedom
But you chose instead to be ignorant
And see a society and not a civilization

       -Tommy Johnson
Get a higher education
Go to school
Get a degree in something
No, don't be a fool
Milk the cash cow
Be a work mule
To find a job even with your doctorate
To find employment, is something rare

       -Tommy Johnson

But you dare not interfere
You ignore it because you're scared
It isn't your problem so you don't care

Terrorists instill a sense of fear
So we police the world
Oppress and occupy
Bullets, bloodshed and grenades are hurled
And back home we outsource
As history unfurls
A time of economic recession
And unjust warfare

And of course you dare not interfere
You ignore it because you're scared
It isn't your problem so you don't care

They tricked, murdered and ***** the natives
For all this land
You can say "you wouldn't be here if they didn't"
Well, I feel guilty for living here because they betrayed their fellow man
Then they had those of darker skin as slaves
The decision to free them caused both sides to **** each other
And in the end the chose to segregate
Tell me the equality in that there

Because you dare not interfere
You ignore it because you're scared
It isn't your problem so you don't care

People call each other *******,
*******, spics, chinks they say
A world that loves you if you got social status
But chastise you if your gay
But it's gotten so much better
Looking back on yesterday
But you haven't helped, you just go along
You're views are still parochial, and I'm giving you a disgruntled glare

Because you dare not interfere
You ignore it because you're scared
It isn't your problem so you don't care

You see no beauty in this world
It's like your not even a part of it
You have no idea whats going on around you
You only look out for yourself
You contribute nothing
No ideas
No creations
No light

You just leave the rest of us in darkness
To be destroyed by corruption, hatred, misunderstanding and doubt
While you become just another pawn
Another cog
Another customer
To be accounted for
You are just nameless number
People like you are the reason change takes so long
Open your eyes!
Jayanta Mar 2015
Door is a set-up to detach open and closed,  
Door is a make-up to split between outsider and insider,
Door is a structure to segregate have and haven’t,
Door is an arraignment to cover up sin,
Door is a perturb to nature,
Door is a device to support legacy of abuse,
Door is a tool to manipulate truth for concealing the phony;  
Door is a tragedy to humanity to isolate it from bionetwork;
Get up and come together to break the door to fortify bionetworks!
Family is that  familiar word for the go-getters, the thoroughbreds of the families, those nearest and dearest applaud the strong to thrive, and yet a painful  forgotten word, for the lost generation,  ignored and despised,special and different, terminally unique, were only as strong as our weakest link lost black sheep and shepherds sanity on the brink of exposing the lies, waiting for the train that will never come to the station;
In time...


Screaming "Do I even exist? ******* LOVE ME!"As he tightens his headlock, begging to be loved, from a desperate rage of rejection.

"But why won't you love me the way that you don't? I'm a lovable hopeless drunk loser ,who hasn't washed in months, I'll be the prodigal son  if you want ,coming home and we can sit at the table for lunch ...wishful thinking! If only! you could love me unconditionally ,and not just on a hunch!
If  you want me, Just a touch of acknowledgement will do! I'll give you my soul on my sleeve, just some crumbs from your lofty plinth, to my slum will suffice!
I'm so ******* lost in the dark of the night, I forgot I was looking for love  and soulmates at first sight!"

Screaming to be acknowledged from the four corners of the globe since time began, everybody knows there's a pink elephant in the room being ignored, like the emperors new clothes.  Couples desperate to procreate, using frozen embryos. Those still remembered ,who died ages ago,
Forget me not , everyone wants to be known,Everyone misses someone, and children yearn to be grown. Don't forget all those lost childhoods, Once my heart was my home, a long long; long time ago!The machine advertises  the have's and the have not's ...all those special qualities, some of us just don't got.... were what's  lacking in our family units cost... and immediate vicinities. Thank God for the internet, hounding us  to forget our inherent need to be loved and belong, feeding us with toxic seeds of disconnected, anti-life and discombobulated lifelong wrongs, from  a plethora of sources transmitting The current Perfect archetypal family systems ,propagated  through the myriad of deadman tv shows, and films ,promoting an unblemished, should be family values and traditions, most of us know we will never live to experience. Force feeding us with a yearning of an unachievable contentment in our innocence , hoping in our wildest dreams ,we try to ignore the facts displayed in the constant narrative dictated through the mean instrument of mental emotional and spiritual propaganda...**** your tv licenceS! and smash the ******* thing into public artistic scenes!, smash them into smithereens!don't be ambivalent! No one wants to sit down on the fence as a family and watch on the screen the colour purple riddled with ****** and seriously toxic themes for participants.

Forgotten and ignored are the origins of the word family... famula-serving woman or famulante-servant or even familiarcus -house hold slave...So it should come as no surprise that the human race has been plagued and fractured with slavery throughout our brief brutal AGE.From a creative perspective I can understand the widespread epidemic curse in the hearts and minds of manhate and mankind,of the feeling that we do not belong to our very own families our communities and the societies structured to evoke the black sheep syndrome .It is this lack of feeling apart of, and that we do not exist , that has inspired an overwhelming need for us to persist and create our own families,tribes,gangs,communities, groups and fellowships. From the tower of babel, its as if  we have  been programmed to automatically divided, segregate and become as alien as possible to each other sides.Separating cultures with borders and religion,class and access all areas for members only. Blood is running through my body just like yours, and I done a big massive **** this morning! Do you identify? Nothing like a good ****!
This has become one of the defining factors of the human experience our evolutionary process and diversity.Not our **** similarities! Yet it is these differences that have caused over a billion to be killed! Thats a lot of hate and anger,pain and suffering ...And I'm adding up everyone whos ever been killed because of there differences...Just imagine?..Its probably a lot more! why can't we just get along? and stop all the wars? Everybody wants to be right, Everybody yearns to be wanted ,needed and loved,to feel they exist and that they belong.But with a record number of divorces,broken families and runaways in a culture spiraling further and further away from the original family structures intention, where do we go from here?What is our inheritance? Why do we always fight over money? Why not just care to dare to share?

I find in this day and age, we the broken human family, searching for all these possibilities of experiencing the human experience in the wrong social utilities . Such as gang warfare,militia, online gaming and the plethora of virtual communities available from facebook and myspace to mental health and suicide forums, social toxic rearing, which mimic a sense of divergence,preference, belonging and being apart of something other than feeling so alone! Which in reality we are!  Deepening our deepest wounds the one thing that we yearn for more than anything on the face of the earth is to feel connected,wanted ,needed and loved, everything a family is supposed to provide, not ruin and despise.

The most horrific emotions, I have ever felt was the rejection and abandonment by my mother, when I was just a special wild child, the terror and dread of not being wanted was horrific, and created a deeply destructive state which infected my core, and has grown into a great toxic spiritual tumor 30 years later. I fear I will never get over it! With my head in the sand, so many relevant individual grains just swept under the carpet like a hidden beach, and so I search for the love I was denied in a thousand ways and a million times I seek. From hunting for my mothers love in another woman or a man. I can't even begin to explain the pain my father inflicted upon me. lest I curl into a ball and die right now! Its as if he hated me more than words ,and yet I loved him so much. Left me seeking comfort in despair in the pit in the belly of the beast, through alcoholism and addiction of every kind! none of these methods was sufficient in filling the void inside,The hole in my soul can't breathe,for all to see, especially me ,can't hide but only these things expanded it , creating a deeper hunger and leaving me more broken and empty. My desperation to remain part of the family was displayed in my familiar slave like demeanour(desperate to please my mother) by cleaning the whole house  from top to bottom with a toothbrush. I would lose myself in the neverending chores, it was never a bore, as long as mother didn't let me go, but it was never enough, and it seems as if I was doomed to be a cast out! on my own, exposed to the harsh reality of being alone my worst nightmare coming true... me dying from loneliness! They say its true! and I can understand now how that could be possible ....

There are so many different types of families, and ways for us to feel as if we are connected to a greater community, to feel as if we fit in. But often children grow without a father figure to balance ,protect and nurture them ,lead them! But what if there father is a drunken ,violent,gambling ,deranged bully? what then? Surely they would be better off without such a toxic head of the family, infecting his sons and daughters with the sins of the father. Who of us is cursed with being the blacksheep of the family ? having to toil for the rest of our days in the vastness of our existence, primarily alone ,we search in vain for surrogate mothers and sisters and fathers and brothers. But we find them not, because substitution will never suffice in order for us to truly count and heal within and feel alive ! We must heal this broken bridge that has crippled us to the core in our very short miserable lives.

Its up to us to give love where we have been denied. Invite the broken souls inside, shelter them from the  bitter cold, Just to see another friendly face can mean so much! why is life so tough?, leave us like Lazarus risen from the grave,or Adam and Eve and able and cain to the prodigal son, we have always suffered when we were on our own and alone, I know you prefer your own company, but we were born to surpass ourselves and continue to co-exist beyond our own morality...Ub3
Pearson Bolt Feb 2016
we're all armed
with an appliance
of emancipation
we can nurture non-violent
defiance in a
non-compliant ethos of
antiauthoritarian self-reliance

we have the ability to eliminate the
vestiges of imperialism and
dominant dogmas that choke
and impede our creativity and shackle
our imagination to impotent ideologies

fragmented unrealities augmented
by fractures in our psyche
tendrils of theology that prey
upon our fear and exacerbate
conditioned responses that are
at once
unnatural and irrational
and lead
to infantile expressions of
regression and fantasies of an
aggression rooted in the
suppression of dissent and
the oppression of dissidents

as impotent
as our terror
of the unknown

by the promise of security and prosperity
a cabal of brutish thugs have erected an
imaginary hierarchy and demanded our
subservient obedience and reverence for
this malfeasant apparatus that leeches
our paychecks and robs all of our dignity
while somehow retaining the illusion of liberty
a delusion that festers like an open wound
a tumorous ulcer oozing foul fluid into our minds
blotting out our capacity for cultivating a
future divorced from misanthropy

so pour kerosene on this fluttering
flame of revolt before it sputters out
if we'd quit looking back and forth at
one another rotting in the gutters
checking to see if we have more to
our name than our sisters and our brothers
we might just muster the courage to overthrow
the vapid and misguided fictions that
divide and segregate us into pawns
trapped in this unending rat race
they've deemed the American Dream

harness the revolutionary tenacity
dormant in humanity's most important *****
infinite potential latent in every molecule
each neuron dancing across synaptic
gaps and fanning the embers of an engine
that gives motion to this evolutionary frame
the human brain is omnipotent
Tommy Johnson Dec 2013
When I was sitting in my desk listening to this professor speak
He went on to state that our destines are already prewritten before we are born
That the road we travel has been built previous to our conception
I find this to be false!

Oh Search engines please look for me
A place where I can breathe freely
A place where I can sigh

Tea tree oils, Echinacea Goldenseal
We’re making love that seems so unreal
So many ways to express this bliss
We moan and we bite and we scratch and we kiss
Pent up frustration inside me until
We both get naked and together it’s killed
And it is no more
Lightning strikes
And minds are lit
Bestowing gifts
Coming from nature

Dark Covens
Holy bishops
Saving men
We shall perform a hex!

This is age of impermanence
Of alternative reference
Disregarding sacraments
Where we are all immanent

Slaying Natives, ***** slaves
Freeing them then they segregate
Separate like night and day
Then at night they’d kneel and pray
Asking God for him to save
I can’t believed they lived that way

A system around the sun
Is it ending or just begun?
The path to enlightenment, there’s more than one
Leave me deaf
And take my sight

The porcelain women wet in tears
The brooding man wise beyond his years
The children living in fear
Baffled with the question
Of wrong and right
And so I write
Day is getting dimmer
Televisions muted
Collecting my thoughts
There’s still something unsaid
Somewhere in my mind
But these disturbances and distractions
Leave them to remain undefined

Venturing down splendid hallways of machination
That led to an armada of malicious tendencies
How did I get here?
To this domain of deviation

I need to turn in another direction
A new route and get out of here

Screaming for a sign
Find me
Before time runs out
Sacrifice the live stock of your pride
At the intersection
Of pain and pleasure
But it’s getting congested with
Traffic of Sunday drivers, drunk and texting
Find me
On the razors edge
In the hallway
With a legion
Ready to charge
At your deepest hidden motives
The prerogative of the compass that will point you and I in a new direction
And if need be we can always poison each other for the well being of one another
Lane Care Nov 2014
Justice for all?
**** near justice for none!
People die everyday,
Because the world can't control their guns
Innocent people die in vain.
If the police do a crime,
Is it ok?
They are suppose to set an example!
If a citizen does a crime,
Is it ok? Is it acceptable?
Do we really have to get arrested?
Cops **** people that seem like a threat.
An innocent person,
An innocent child dies,
Because cops are on some dumb ****!
They feel as though,
Since they're white or the "law"
They can get away with ****!!
If every arrogant ******* did that
Then we might as well
segregate the world
And bring the KKK back.
If we was on that racist *******,
Martin Luther King's dream
Will go down the drain
And the Constitution "establish justice,"
Will now become disdain.
Freedom at last?
More like freedom has past.
Where is the justice we deserve?!
If we keep this up,
We will become,
"land of the coward
and home of the *****"
Or "home of the *******,
That shoot you on the spot
And dont give a **** whos watching!"
Teens die without getting there justice,
And im not talking about,
The ******* teens who *******,
But the ones where they're all
Set for school on monday
And get shot in the head
Before the next morning!
If the govenmrnt is all about education,
Then why are we getting shot
By their racist?!
Where is our justice?
Should we just forget about it
And move on?
I cant sit here
And let our justice be taken
While those *******
Are getting away with ******!!
Im sorry mike
Your justice havent been served.
I pray to god
Those sick ******* get what they deserve!
No family should suffer from their lost
Like they do.
Justice will come,
For those who lost it all.
Surrounded yet completely alone,
It's the rule that our mothers taught us, always stay together.

Together, entanglement binds it together,
Predators take at ease to engulf, consume.

Those that swim, flow solo.

So I remain huddled, I merge and now I'm surrounded,
All the same, completely isolated.

I stay for hope, protection and direction, is this a false impression?

Split, torn in silence I suffer, So I turn back to reflect,
"I had, I have control, right?"

I segregate and eliminate the feeling of metamorphosis,
From prayer to predator.

Now I've shifted gears, further up the food chain once more,
Again, I'm surrounded yet completely alone.

Though, this time I've grown!

*Poem by Lionelle Nsarhaza
Ahmad Cox Feb 2014
Even as separate and alone
As we can feel sometimes
We are all connected to
Each other in some way

This society tells us that
We are separate and we
Have to fend for ourselves
Our else someone else

Might take what I have
Or somehow take what
I own or what I have
Spent my hard earned

Money to buy and to
Obtain without thinking
About the other people
Around them who are

Needing some love and
Comfort and healing and
All they need is a kind
Word or a person to let

Them know that things
Will be ok and that
Everything will be alright
And that they can make

It one more day and
Helping each other
Where we can simply
Because we can rather

Than trying to figure
Out what we can get
From that person in
Return or trying to

Manipulate them into
Getting what we want
For our own gain and
Profit when if we just

Asked and shared with
Each other there would
Be no need for stealing
Or for wars or the need

To feel separate or alone
Because we would live
As a community of people
Actively working together

To help each other where
We needed and helping
To heal people from
The heart as well

We tend to separate and
Segregate people instead
Of acknowledging the
Beautiful diversity of

Life and of people as
Well when we should
Be celebrating our
Uniqueness while at

The same time
Understand that
We are all one
And we come

From the same
Source and that
Even though we
Might have different

Ways of feeling
Or seeing or
Interpreting things
Doesn't mean that

Someone else's view
Is wrong is just another
Way to look at something
From a different angle

Than you might have
Originally been able to
See on your own and
Being able to learn from

Each other instead of
Trying to force our
Ideas our thoughts
On another and if

We get to the point
Where we understand
We are one we could
Never hurt or harm

Or steal or even have
Wars because we would
Understand that we are
All the same and if I harm

You I am harming a piece
Of me and when you can
Get to that understanding
Of life and nature and of

People as well you will
Start to see things in a
Different way than you
Have ever seen before
Valsa George Nov 2016
The chill of winter bites into the skin
And the valley sleeps in muffled din
In the freezing blustery winter night
The shivering trees stay huddled and tight

Stars have lined up in the sky
With cotton clouds swiftly sailing by
The moon light seeping through the veil
Makes the foliage glisten in the dale

Sharp noises sounding eerie
Leave the valley a place so scary
These sounds parley in a tongue unknown
Of gory tales, to none ever known

Did some cannibal tribe once congregate
In this nether territory to live segregate
What midnight revels had they held
No one knows and history remains cold

Now, here amid thickets and thorny shrubs
Where darkness, like a Fiend proudly struts
And in leaf fringed corners and crevices wide
Serpents coil with poisonous fangs in hide
Look, the sly fox walking stealthily away
After feeding greedily on his hapless prey,
Through the ravine and down the furrow
How he sneaks into his covert burrow

The glassy brook that mirrored the skies
Now in dark, under a thick blanket lies
But the water rushing through pebbles and rocks
With sonorous music, the nightly calm breaks

Among the branches of towering trees
Birds have perched and roost in peace
Little birdies with downy feathers
Cuddle under their mothers splayed wings

From far off woods comes a shrieking howl
As frightening as the hoots of a night owl
Wind, rushing through needle pines
Sounds like a child when he, in pain whines

Now the valley sleeps in muffled din
Until the Sun for his daily ritual parades in
In day light this valley would be up and awake
And life for sure will a renewed turn take
Helena Feb 2013
it's not a problem when there's nothing to sweat,
the humidity between your fingers only exists if you let it.
disconnection from socialization is nothing immoral, more than anything, it's probable.

no eye contact at uncomfortably long red-lights,

don't try to discuss the compartimentalizing in the back of your head.

you are a molecule.
molecules are small,
you are small.

on second thought, think more about what i couldn't stand in the world
than what i would change.
consider the opportunity and bottle enthusiasm like it's a commodity.
segregate mind
seperate syllables, content, and over-accumilation.
inside, i would never expect you to work your own way out.

and again, i spat out black, fine lined *******.
there was no more than the predetermined depth that they've come to expect from me,
i went no further than to soak my readers, then force them out still wet:
go ahead,
drip-dry from my dignity.

it's like the fire they insisted deserves to be cradled in a cage.
because freedom is threat:
consuming until she bursts into a sheet of liquidated decision.
but there is still room for appreciation:
for the consistency of
light, warmth and relativity.

swallow back a mouthful of something i cannot pronounce.
what does it matter if losing sleep makes you feel ten,
the lie is still that you're twenty-seven.
but what drove through,
enough to come out the other side, is still being ignored.
my loyalty  proved as a stunt in the precious growth you claim i lacked.
just when it became lyrical the reality becomes increasingly evident,
no woman needs poetry about the sun, or the starving lions out back.

so just let me burn in the grass.
because it'd only be wasting my time,
  airing out.

it's your pope's, not my prophecy that doesn't believe
in the gravity you say
forced you to

one day you'll laugh.
one day i'll stop getting lost when i drive to new places.
one day the water will stop running from our taps.

i'm sure you realize i sexualized you,
like the young thing i am.
i should apologize,
but i'm also pretty sure you don't mind.
rewind: you'll go to waste like fine wine, and i'll drive you home over the phone.
Amir Apr 2010
i segregate separate stratify
my poems with little lines
to keep them apart,
keep them from bleeding
into one another like
frames in a poorly inked comic strip.
it doesn't work.
© Amir 2008
Mike Bergeron Sep 2012
Sitting at a bar
In a palace built by
Nineteenth-century slaves,
And the back of my shirt
Is soaked from the
Hundred degree weather.
I rub my neck,
Wipe the hot perspiration
From it with my hand,
Only to pick up
My glass of beer
And get it's cold sweat
All over my palm.
I ask the bartender
About the nets
Obstructing my view
Of the gold-flaked,
Hundred foot ceilings,
But he doesn't know
Why they're there,
Or just doesn't care
Enough to humor me.
Happy hour prices
Segregate me and my soul
From the charcoal
Suits shuffling past
As they head to
The trains that will
Deliver them to
Their BMWs
So they can drive to
Their wine cellars
And plastic wives.
The history of this place
Is suffocating me,
It's thick in the air,
As are the dialects
Of dozens of states,
Shouting to each other
Or to themselves
Or to god.
I pay our tab
And dive into
A red line train
Like a CVS syringe
Into a ******'s arm,
And rush away from
the city's heart
With the other cells,
Through tunnels buried
Beneath the birth and death
Of the American scream.
If I fall asleep,
I'll never wake up,
The dream will replace
The reality I've created.
The steady thrum of
The train croons to me,
But the acidic stench
Of July humanity
Keeps me locked
In this scenario.
The darkness flees
As we breach the
Border of daylight.
Jetskis on the Potomac
Remind me of what
I don't know.
Dreaded beards
On weathered sacks
Of human decay
Perched on plastic seats
Remind me of what
I've painted as real
In my underexposed brain.
I'm exhausted,
All my water has
Evaporated, risen,
And I'm a Little drunk.
My eyelids are heavy,
And move like
Hurricane barriers.
Same scene,
Different passengers.
Spiral staircases
Of neon fibres,
A religious maven
Spitting his canon,
Fleeting images of
Hardwired memories
I've grown old
Trying to erase.
He's staring right at us.
The man in the
Periwinkle shirt
And the bronze
Kmart tie.
His sweat shines
Like young paint
On an Oldsmobile,
His double chin
Is tanned to
The color of his tie,
And he knows too much.
He knows more than I do,
More than I can take.
His eyes shine
With the knowledge,
The stupid grin
Plastered on his
Greasy face
Knocks me out.
The sky is vast,
And unscathed by jealous clouds.
The crystal clear water holds me up,
Its pressure on my back
Is as refreshing as it is comforting.
Max and Andy splash and laugh to my left.
The pond water in my ears
Distorts their sounds,
But the mushrooms in my blood
Explain them.
Jesse is coming,
Doing well at keeping his cigarette dry,
Swimming with one arm.
I feel something unlock inside me,
Forget it's June,
That I'm floating
In this lake
For the first
And last time,
That I'm still
In Rhode Island,
That the love
Of my life
Is in Virginia,
I forget my limbs,
My hair,
My skin,
My ****,
My heartbeat,
The stellar iron in my blood,
And as the water fills my lungs,
As the shouts commence
And sight fades,
I am reborn,
I am the microbes I am swallowing,
I am the glow of the nearest star
Glinting off the rippling surface,
I am the sand beneath me,
I am the air pushing the pine needles,
I am alive,
I am open:
I am still on a train
In Washington DC
And this ******* guy
Knows too much.
His lips are wet with it.
It's written in the part
Of his thinning hair,
In the way he's thumbing
the pages
Of the book he isn't reading.
I can't contain the shout,
The burst of wasted pride,
The "*******!"
The "What do you see that's so ******* interesting?!"
I can feel Ali's hand
And the eyes of
All the passengers in the car
Fall upon me,
And the pressure
Caves in my skull.
From my sunken face:
"I'm a reasonable man, get off my case."
"I'm a reasonable man, get off my case."
"I'm a reasonable man, get off my case."
"I'm a reasonable man, get off my case." -Radiohead
Venusoul7 Oct 2014
"No man loves God who hates his kind;
Who tramples on his Brother's heart and soul.
Who seeks to shackle, cloud or fog the mind
By fears of Hell has not perceived our goal.

God-sent are all religions blest;
And Christ; the Way, the Truth and Life
To give the heavy-laden rest
And peace from Sorrow, Sin and Strife.

At His request the Universal Spirit came
To all the churches; not to one alone;
On Pentecostal morn a tongue of flame
Round each apostle as a halo shone.

Since then, as vultures ravenous with greed, We oft have battled for an empty name
And sought by dogma, edict, creed,
To send each other to the flame.

Is Christ then divided? Was Cephas or Paul
Nailed to the Cross to die ?
If not: Then why these divisions at all?
Christ's love doth enfold you and I.

His pure sweet love is not confined
By creeds which segregate and raise a wall.
His love enfolds, embraces Humankind;
No matter what ourselves or him we

Then why not take Him at His word?
Why hold to creeds which tear apart ?
But one thing matters be it heard,
That brother-love fill every heart.

There is but one thing that the world has need to know;
There is but one balm for all our human woe;
There is but one way that leads to heaven above;
That way is human sympathy and love."


Jordan Nov 2013
if your beliefs seperate and segregate they probly ****
Jose Fernandez Aug 2017
I am the rain you are the flower.
My sun, are the thoughts that gave you your power.
You reached for the stars and pedaled much harder.
Fixating on your own flower makes you lose sight, our origin same planet.
Conditioned to only love your own kind.
What ego, refocus on what matters.
Cultivate integrity, flourish then gather.
Our beliefs are not ours, they're captured in moments, in hours.
Discipline and take control of your 24 hours.
But who am I to tell you that’s foolish, that’s madder.
My empathy sees you have to conform to the fish bowl that’s hard, can’t shatter.
Just like the dreams, I dream they don’t break, gray matter.
My vision expanded and shut out the chatter.
Comprehend the same things that unite, segregate.
Meditate, create space and gravitate.
Coexistence is all that there is.
I have sight I’m not blind to the prescribed consensus.
Need I mention all these misconceptions?
Illusions placed to distract and deceive.
Dogma, a human construct a pattern we feed.
These connections run deep, these roots are from Saturn.
This gift of space and time gave us, one ocean, one planet.
Treat it as such and radiate peace and love before… you all vanish.
The greater good.
My mission, my passion, my… mind over matter.
Pearson Bolt May 2016
they sentenced anarchy to death in 1887.
in the wake of the Haymarket Affair,
they tried in vain to hang a fifth figure
on a chilly November day,
attempted to fit a noose
on an idea that's bullet-proof.


a refrain that remains in remembrance
of Engel, Fischer, Parsons, Spies,
and every man, woman, and child
whose life was robbed by the State
before his or her time.

a mantra celebrating the universal
qualities capable of unifying humanity
even in the face of an apparatus arraigned
to divide
and segregate.

we march in Chicago and Seattle,
in Toronto and NYC,
continuing the fight they began
for dignity and a living wage—
our burning rage growing to a conflagration
as we wave black flags and reclaim
the city streets from killer cops
and corporate oligarchs.

authority an illusion we will shed  
in the tides of black and red, united
against injustice.
"The time will come when our silence will be more powerful than the voices you strangle today."
- August Spies, anarchist & labor organizer

In solidarity with those protesting across the globe for a living wage, this poem is dedicated to the memory of the Haymarket 8 and every other anarchist prisoner in the world today.
Once we savored wonder
Untainted and innocent
But our thirst perished
A feverish illusion of hostility
Tears followed by memory
In a haze of righteousness  
A torrid uncertainty of misery as perceptions diminish
I segregate you
As the night falls in a sorrowful suffocating masquerade
We become souless
As we are afraid
The salvation for which we once sacrificed ourselves for
Flickers once, then dies
Devoured by a velvet somber nothingness
All hope must sicken and depart
Your essence thrives no more
Destructive thoughts surround us
Crying as we have lost our way
Pearson Bolt Jan 2017
we have been deceived.
corralled like tepid sheep,
fattened beef
waiting beyond
the doors of the slaughterhouse.

as pigs lick their lips,
a daemon’s death dirge drifts
listless across the
Atlantic, an erratic dichotomy
corroding rationality—
this executive edict
barring refugees.

caught without a compass,
a flotilla of ships weathering
the elements.
for forty days
and forty nights,
we’ve been lead
by elephants
and donkeys.

demagogues commandeered
the lighthouse, directing
our ark across
scattered rocks.
an armada
of shattered splinters,
remnants of water-logged vessels
we’d hoped to sail to utopia.

caught in the webs
we wove, droves
of drones spewing
bombs across Aleppo.

as spittle collects
on spluttering orange lips,
will we
for but a moment?

our thoughts.
history is a shattered
mirror and we’ve pricked
our fingers trying
to piece the image
back together.

there’s a hunger
for blood
refracting in our eyes.
a misanthropy
that smarts and stings.

a recalcitrant population
coerced by a television
rhetorician’s clever
devices, devised
to separate and segregate
during this crisis
caused by our missiles.

there is no moral arc
to the universe. hope,
Hedges wrote, is mania
if it remains vapid
and refuses to address
the depravity of our
physical reality.

we’ve already lost.
just ask the children
barely clinging to life,
covered in the debris
of their former homes.

all that’s left for us
is to bash the fascists.
smash every illusory border
in our heads and hearts.
burn down the walls
they try to build
around us.

overturn the tables
of the oligarchs,
stuff Molotov cocktails
down their bloated throats.
open revolt is our only hope.
we’ll build a sanctuary
in this City Beautiful.

(sometimes initial capital letter). Also called Noah's Ark. the large boat built by Noah in which he saved himself, his family, and a pair of every kind of creature during the Flood. Gen. 6–9.
Also called ark of the covenant. a chest or box containing the two stone tablets inscribed with the Ten Commandments, carried by the Israelites in their wanderings in the desert after the Exodus: the most sacred object of the tabernacle and the Temple in Jerusalem, where it was kept in the holy of holies.
a place of protection or security; refuge; asylum.
(initial capital letter) Judaism. Holy Ark.
a flatboat formerly used on the Mississippi River and its tributaries.
Nautical. life car.
Archaic. a chest or box.
Raphael Uzor Mar 2014
We blame our fathers
We call them traitors
We wish they had fought
We analyze and criticize!

But; while we slept

Our villages were attacked
Our houses were ransacked
Our lives… shattered!

Under our noses
Our heroes fell,
Like petals of roses.

While we made merry

Our women were *****
Our girls were enslaved
Our maidens… depraved!

Under our watch
Our cattle were looted
Our farms were torched.

While we fraternized

Our children were slaughtered
Our youths were murdered
Our species… endangered!

How long shall we segregate?
While they usurp our heritage.
How long, till our place in history
Becomes a “Once upon…” story?

© Raphael Uzor
Chloe Dec 2014
A voluntary victim of life
Parasites called eyes
What we see are lies
We learn to segregate our intuition from physicalities
You gotta unfold inward
A paradoxical lesson of how to 'wake up'
In today's world religion can be hard
To tackle since so many view it as barred
Away from the world like the poor dying man
People avoid as best that they can

But what is the price of being uptight
About suppressing the essence of life?
Why is it so that it can be so wrong
To speak of the motives that guide us along?

Religion is not just a vast collection
of various mythical origin legends
Religion is the root of motive and desire
Religion is wood, humans are fire

So how can it be that the absence of thought
Is how some are marketed after they are bought
Into a title that simply describes
A lack of connection to open blue skies?

How can it be so, that siblings can fight,
Over which one is wrong and which one is right,
When in the end the real problem is
A lack of empathy for hers and for his

Where does it say that you have to sign up?
Why do I have to drink from anyone's cup?
What prevents me from creating my own?
What prevents me from being alone?

Why do you look down upon me so,
For having not only courage to say no,
But to say no and also be self-assure
For my essence is pure, and so is yours

Question not the names and titles
Question not the idol or idols
Question not those who dare to walk alone
For it is from the same cloth that we are all sewn

Question not the small details
That can breed such conflict, but to no avail
Question not the symbols or form
Question not those who deviate from norms

Question attempts to segregate
Question any actions fueled by hate
Question your mother, question your father,
Question your friends if you dare bother

Question anyone who you care for
Religions are doorknobs and humans are doors
For it is religion that truly precedes
The philosophies carried by you or by me

So question your friends, go on, it's ok
Hopefully the world will reach a day
Where religion is the opposite of a taboo
Where religion is recognized as what makes you

So question the motives, question desire
And most importantly, question those who set fire
To other's religions, to other's homes
Violence is never the answer
I was inspired and I think about religion all the time, so here we go :) Hope you enjoy
Corey Mckenzie Oct 2014
I'm going to escape it all for a day
No socialization, no worries
No hint of fear, no hidden glory
Nothing but myself, to whom I'll tell a story

No one to talk to, No thoughts to consume me
No one to tend to and no clowns to amuse me
Just lay there awake with melodies soothing my mind.
Looking deeper at life, now that I have the time

When I'm done drowning and segregate from my box
I'll wait at the door, and wonder if you'll knock
I hope you forgive me without even a reason
Because even a lonely summer could be such a cold season
Dedicated to my current state of emotions :/
I very well felt possessed by the hatred that overcame me
Quite a drastic change from that echo of desire
If I could just believe in heaven I’d feel compelled to segregate my soul
Because nothing could be divine in the absence of a fire

My fear is extinguished by your touch
Your body remains in memory, consumed
Abandoned by your blood - a poison yet to desecrate
As though you are the first to feel deception
The first to be overwhelmed by anger
The first to have an animal tear through your skin from inside
But remain chained to your heart
Cursed to wander in your shadow
Or else rip it out
Or else remain suppressed and sleep
Which is in its nature?
CommonStory Oct 2014
segregate me, but I am only human

I have to power to change a future

Peace, love, war, and violence

I contain it all with my thoughts and actions

I'm not whole from the apparent soul that consumes me

A fruitless tree only bears vegetables for me

And poorly salted meats  

Im not lost forever

I just lost my way

No one knows what it's like

Still Everyone shares the experience

But me, myself, and the person and the mirror

A rippling pebble cannot change the strangest tides

To try and try harder

To the brink of insanity

Its simply 

Who we are

And what we'll become
Mateuš Conrad Aug 2016
i like looking up these shadow-people, the labourers
away from the spotlight, away from easy reference conclusions,
Ludovico Arrighi is among them, as is
the high jumper **** Fosbury - no belly-flop in
the competition after... after 1968 the road signs
told every jumper to expose the back and ***
when overpowering the heights -
Philippe Petit is outside the world, the ultimate
expression of solipsism, what grandeur (previous
attempts, the dyslexic source: the graphemes, æ,
previously i wrote grandeur as: grandeaur,
grandaeur, etc., somehow the syllables of only
vowels can leave you momentarily dyslexic,
when we're talking pure consonant graphemes
we have an aesthetic performed,
sheering can become šeering, whereby the diacritical
input overpowers excess spelling of graphemes,
such examples arise from what became the silent H...
or the surd H... ping-pong with the tetragrammaton...
e.g. dhal - which is said with a macron over the a:
dāl... but the trinity of spelled words gives rise
of neurosis... unless it's a word as conjunction,
the tribunal of aesthetic in keeping language beautiful
will prefer the spelling dhal or even daal rather than
what i proposed). concerning Ludovico Arrighi's
italics type... the skewed rhombus alignment /    /
is prescribed for emphasis... i need something to introduce
something that doesn't stress emphasis, but
sarcasm / ridicule... when i write something,
as i did in Christianity 2.0 (two point oh),
i'd change the direction of the ~wind, i.e. instead of
/    /    for emphasis, i'd like to stress ridicule in the
following direction:    \     .
but that's beside the point, it's like a western with
English not applying noticeable stresses...
for example the English trill, or the French hark...
they should be equipped with diacritical marks
of distinction... some sort of uniformity
of suggestion... the northerners trill (roll)
their R, the French used to, now anything but
a puddle of phlegm... but indeed, easy dyslexia from
pure vowel graphemes... cutting up graphemes
with diacritical incisions (safety, in a persistent vocabulary,
following the method of philosophical methodology -
hence my casual use of diacritics and graφemes -
i.e. when graphemes can't be constructed due
to a lacking of grapheme intention - unlike θ and φ -
supported by their alignment of a twin sound,
the Greeks would never consider applying diacritical
marks on p, t, h - unlike in Polish, where the h
is distinguished into a ch for aesthetic purposes -
e.g. chleb - bread and huj - **** -
but overpowering the vowel graphemes produced
their disappearance and the emergence of diacritical
vowels, e.g. the acute o (ó), which is a U, i treat
the diacritical mark as an incision point for the parabola,
cutting up the omicron, and that seems natural
given that the Greeks already did it without the acute
sign, i.e. the omega (the double u) - ω - again,
aesthetic reasons, the forgotten gallery of words
is there, you just have to forget Chomsky for a while.
but indeed, breaking up graphemes provides us
the necessity for diacritical marks,
the ancient Roman graphemes might have disappeared,
but they're still digitally present: mostly concerning
major words, like onomatopoeia - or encyclopaedia -
graphemes behave differently with the barbarians,
the latter encyclo- example is obviously nostalgic,
the ono- example does a reverse grapheme variation
of oe... but modernity expresses these couples
with individual distinctions - i.e. encyclopaedia
could be written utilising... well not a caron - not quiet
***, and more p'eh - the resurrection of the tetragrammaton
is necessary, i'd have inserted the variation without
minding French, i.e. grave accent on e eating away
the last vowel... or vowels... i.e. encyclopaèdia -
so avoiding the French usage that would cut off the -ia,
i'd insert it for reasons of interacting with a h, p'eh.
Joyce's Finnegan's Wake should have been written like this...
instead, it was written without noticing the diacritical
marks, and therefore made it's pompousness known
by omitting diacritical marks, therefore succumbing to
excessive spelling... or the ruin of Delmore Schwarzt -
nurse! scalpel: sch(sh /sz / š)- -wä(łä)- r(z)'t - drum-kit
wet snare tss't like in jazz.
still i need to define the R being trilled (rolling ball)
akin to the å - but of course the umlaut would do the job
likewise - but it's the aesthetic purpose that's necessary,
i guess umlaut designates an eased concept of
arithmetic included above the sound: i.e. prolonged,
count +2.

but these are but minor points of consideration,
obviously it would take decades to implement, and knowing
human endeavours in this realm, once fixed, once
fixated, nothing will hardly change - due to the already
existing utilisation, whereby it works perfectly to segregate
people... and the fact that there's no linguistic bible to
mind... but talking about orthodoxy and meddling with
dogma, i'm still bothered about the Malachi heresy,
how could it have been implemented?
i mean, a polytheistic concept of reincarnation is the oldest
form of identity theft, isn't it?
monotheism is incompatible with the concept of reincarnation,
this is the weakest spot / the blemish in Judaism...
Malachi is the actual inventor of Christianity and Islam,
he introduced the concept of reincarnation with
the return of Elijah, as mentioned in the New Testament
where Jesus is compared with Elijah...
it's a monotheistic heresy... reincarnation has no place
in monotheism, yet there it is, glaring at everyone from
the page... it was Malachi's error that gave rise to
schism... the litmus test of a monotheism is it's inability to
succumb to schism... well, Christianity is poly-schismatic,
Islam suffered an infection of schism early on...
Jewish schism?  you either practice or don't...
you either don the full attire of a Hasidic jews or you simply
turn your opinions toward earthly matters...
and so much rigour just because they didn't care to
roll the ******* back during ***, all that much work
from snipping the *******... early intervention did the job,
snip the skin off and we have the most ridiculously
funny god in the thought of man, an entire Mongolian
horde of intellectuals have been spawned from his existence...
imagine if god intervened when plastic surgery came around...
wouldn't be so ******* funny by my count.
****! listening to the radio and standing up between sentences
then realising there's no go-back button... it's live...
sometimes the oddities of not being your own d.j. can be
petrifying, when you're working against the river-current
like a Salmon of rhythm.

lastly... i guess this is a major point, in a magazine article
some dung-heap of opinion wrote something
about poetry, in ditto:
a policeman shoots dead Michael Brown in Ferguson,
Missouri in August 2014, Maggie Smith's poem
Good Bones goes viral, it wasn't about Ferguson,
it was about life being short and often terrible -
continues with: poetry is the language of crisis, of
profound thought and deep emotion, it may not be
much read these days, but it is certainly felt...

is that all true? is poetry the language of crisis?
i think that assertion is a load of *******...
it's a bit like using a hammer to paint the civil room's
walls (living room, i call it the civil room) -
if i'm reading poetry i'm not commuting or lying in bed,
i'm perched on the windowsill in a quasi-akimbo pose,
sipping a glass of bourbon with coca-cola and
smoking a cigarette, mindful of never wanting to
wear contact lenses or eyeglasses,
poetry is more than this idealism about it,
that you read poetry to savour the moment of critical needs,
i read poetry because newspaper articles **** me off...
poetry is like newspaper articles when those monstrous
literary ****** get going for months of necessary
attention to finish them... poetry, when drinking
bourbon, smoking a cigarette, quasi-akimbo on the windowsill,
perfect use of spacing, i bet most people who stick
to poetry will have better eyesight when they grow older.
Mish Mar 2012
Am I the only person you’ve ever seen w/ dreads? Are you so stuck in your hometown preconceived notions that I just can’t wash my own head? Let me just clear this up for you right now.. I don’t like reggae..
I didn’t catch your stares down the first freezer aisle at the grocery store last week but I heard that there was some nodding, some pointing & some laughing.. Thanks.. you’ve just given me another reason to not want to be like you..
Open your mind, open your mouth, I’ll answer anything you want to know..regardless of how many times I’ve already been asked before… I’d rather educate than segregate your thoughts even more.. but if you choose to keep your mind closed, make sure your mouth follows closely behind..

you see, life is a puzzle, and I’ve always felt like the missing piece… I remember being seventeen and refusing to dream.. I remember lonely nights in basement bedrooms, blue walls echoed what was in my heart at the time… I remember the ultimate Zen disaster, I was then my own master of a melancholic destiny, my weapon of choice, silver sharpness, five times (at least..) & before sleep, hand on stomach, stomach in head, head somewhere so far away..

fast forward:

one of my best friends asked me the other day, “what’s your definition of beauty?” It took me ten whole minutes to come up with the world’s most generic answer.. a decade ago, I blamed society for bending my brain into thinking I was too plain and why can’t I be like all the skinny girls you see on the screen?!  A decade later, I know it’s just me.. it’s my thoughts, sometimes rotting, corroding my soul (they say..) and if I can’t see the beauty in myself, how come I can see it in everyone, and everything else..?! I just programmed my mind to see things that way..

things are slowly changing, I’m re-arranging all the wires, re-booting my hard driven mind..
I owe it to myself to have a tomorrow free of sorrow because life IS a fast lane & won’t wait for me to catch up to that last departing train toward freedom.. I have to get there on my own, leave my home & choose the best path (it’s always the one less travelled though..)

so you might ask why I’ve written this…

I wrote this for you, summer niece or nephew… please know way in advance that beauty is not a reflection in a tv screen, but in your own bathroom, or bedroom mirror… it’s you and you alone.. Bukowski was right.. “your life is your life, know it while you got it..”

I wrote this for you, my little sister… to repay you for never leaving my side when I fell head first into poverty, property has no measure in your heart… never lose your spark..

I wrote this for you mom & dad..  through the highways & the hallways that changed over the years.. during those couple of trips to the medicine cabinet.. I knew I could never leave you guys behind no matter what clouded my mind..

I wrote this for my bestfriends that I have who shine…for Jeremiah, Bee, Sarah, Tonya, and Pam they’re the ones, according to Kerouac “who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars..”
..I read this at an Open Mic last Thursday... I told the crowd that I've been watching a lot of spoken word poetry videos and how I wish I could do that to, if only I could memorize my pieces... I told them that this was my attempt at a 'read' spoken word piece...

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