"sociology" poems
There once was a black man... Old at heart, he fought verbally and accordingly with bold words, which abbreviated and arbitrated great art! He spoke of activism. Not just racial, and economic racism. He fought against demonic injustices for you, yes, made me see. He stood for principles of non-violence. Acknowledged corrupt government
mileage, European knowledge and college. A philosopher, teacher
and preacher as well as a civil rights leader. When he spoke his words of fire indeed chiseled and inspired. Causing some to conspire and also perspire! Born January 15th 1929 in Atlanta, Georgia. Named in honor of the German protestant Martin Luther. Bachelor of Arts
degree in sociology. Making a mark in doctoral studies, systematic theology. June 5th 1955 This King married Corretta Scott in Heiberger,
Alabama for many to see. Proceeding with four children: Yolanda, Martin Luther the 3rd to be! Dexter Scott and Bernice to increase the peace. Despite the European police, the movements and stressed
protests, the silence, ****** and racial violence. The segregation and interrogations in force, instead of integration of course. Black mishaps, lack of differences in relapse perhaps! Plagiarized and slandered, demised by some of the wise. Accused of communistic ties. Blinded
by others’ eyes and of our world’s twisted lies. Montgomery, Georgia
bus boycott, 1955 was the year. However, forever in disguise, our fear of tears was apparently adhered. From here to near, also all those dear. Mere letters he wrote, from Birmingham jail I quote! From the slums, some of sums, hail and prevail! A creation prevailing into a deriving and thriving nation. Mr. King’s vision of a dream, mission,
opposition, optimism and truism, on our wars, welfare and more. I suppose this sounds honest and fair. Mr. King’s theories and worries in emotionalism, evangelism, humanitarianism, racism and socialism. Nobel Peace Prize won in 1964. Regretfully, you may have heard of this before. Government conspiracies and indecencies. Assassination
and discrimination, allegedly, by James Earl Ray. On April 4th, I
almost choke, because for him, his blood did soak. Some thought this **** was a thrill or forced by will. Others still procrastinate in hate! However, forever Martin Luther King was and still is one of the late greats.
Mar 26, 2012
Mar 26, 2012 at 12:53 PM UTC
Emerging economies.
What they’re emerging from I don’t know.
My guess, the depths of hell.
From the frying pan, right into the fire, or worse; a well.
A deep hole stronger than gravity, the force.
To be forever under the thumb of remorse.
A modern era of endless acts, policies and bla bla bla.
Shut up with all your platitudes.
I see what’s really going on. Aha!
You speak of sustainable development.
Nice to know that you’ve led by example.
Carried the mantle for all these years.
Centuries of ruthlessness, now veiled in sheep’s clothing.
But you won’t shut up. Because you don’t speak.
You never have. You just do.
Each day that goes by, you carry on anew.
Behind all the talk of hope, equality and more progress,
it seems the wolves are lurking.
Cooking up the next tool to subdue countless.
This time, not behind closed doors. But in plain sight.
It’s scary to imagine such spite.
Each year that goes by it becomes clearer that you never cared.
You sold guns, drugs and all kinds of war.
And each time, you kept coming back for more.
You’ve built up antibodies that ensure your survival.
But sometimes I wonder if you’re alive at all.
But what do I know?
Maybe you’re more alive than ever.
Doing what you do best but always more clever.
That not even the most stable of geniuses can evade your pressure.
A strong enough foundation that each break makes you stronger,
So strong that not even the Gremlin can take you under.
Against this dreary background, foregrounded is nothing short of magical.
Beyond hope, prayers or a thoughtless radical.
Or maybe this is all just fake outrage.
An attempt to evade the boredom of this endless monotony and baggage.
Or maybe, the term is out of date.
Like every other, that makes me increasingly more irate.
In which case, this poem is at least ten years late.
Or maybe there are too many maybes’.
And I’m perfectly suited for this time of vague uneasiness and indifference.
In which case, my imagination probably needs more sociology and less a lesson in rhymes.
Oct 14, 2018
Oct 14, 2018 at 1:44 PM UTC
I should be thinking about you
but I am thinking
about inevitabilities.
Like how my dog's life will end before mine.
And how my heart isn't even beating half the time.
Maybe it would be better to relax our grip.
take our eyes from the sky
feel the string slip
There's biology and there's sociology and there's
plenty
of other people out there, man.
and
We'll pop
either way
or deflate
someday.
Sep 18, 2014
Sep 18, 2014 at 10:48 PM UTC
Let’s learn the Social Science subjects called Sociology & Anthropology
The twin disciplines are integrated comprehensively
Sociology focuses on society & socialization
Social Processes, Social Groups, Social Movements are in every nation
While Anthropology centers on the study of culture
Here we can learn better the society for sure
As culture has characteristics, elements & dimensions
Society evolves with it through various interactions!
-04/28/2017
(Dumarao)
*SSN Poems
Sep 28, 2019
Sep 28, 2019 at 10:02 PM UTC
In Gothic architecture, light is considered
the most beautiful revelation of God;
Beauty is a characteristic of an animal,
an idea, object, person or place that provides
an experience of pleasure, or satisfaction;
Beauty is studied as part of aesthetics, [culture],
social psychology, philosophy & sociology;
An ideal beauty is an entity;
admired; possessing features
widely attributed to beauty in a particular culture;
to perfection:
Ugliness [commonness], [ ] commonly considered to be the opposite
of beauty,
annihilated as an intellectual concept,
no longer exists;
The experience of beauty is often
involved in an interpretation of some
entity [being in balance & harmony];
the experience of nature may lead to feelings
of attraction & emotional well-being;
Because perception is a purely subjective experience,
it was once said that beauty
is in the eye of the beholder;
a sentiment long debunked;
There is evidence that hypothetical perceptions
of beauty involve determining
aspects of things, people & landscapes;
beauty is typically found
in situations likely to enhance the survival
of the perceiving collection
[of chromosomes]
Aug 3, 2018
Aug 3, 2018 at 6:25 PM UTC
The most luminous example of a fallen angel
An ignored history.. A need for attention..
We define The Humanity Problem globally..
Let me enter the mind of a killer
Let me learn from within the mind of a saint
I will calculate the sociology
The norms killing our psychology
With pad and pen as my everlasting friend..
I want to burn in hells
I seek to bask in heavens
Show me the soul in my eyes
Weathering through a common storm..
People will find the real normal..
If they love themselves and help others..
It should be an oddity to erase normality
And so it exists only as a common standard..
That is how I grew up..
What if we ended expectations?
What if we embraced change?
Compassion could be a global comeback..
There is a nature in duality..
Humans engraved into double-edged swords..
If we could create love and war..
We may be able to end our battles..
We could live with evidence and compassion..
Ending our need to be beautiful, better or rich
As an American.. I am built of guilt
I suffer..
I displayed kindness, love and compassion
I valued evidence over assumption
Pointed out an economy of overconsumption
Only to be labeled as..
'Sheep'
'Idealistic'
So.. to my fellow kinsmen and women..
Open up a dictionary..
If I am a sheep..
We as a whole are not shephards..
Who do you look for to guide you?
Isn't America obviously lost?
We are defined as sheep by a globe called Earth
Currently? Like it or not.. They're right..
I am not powerful
I am weak
Despite the ego of America.. I am no sherpah..
I am no sheep..
I will never be a shephard..
I will only ever be me..
Think of you when at your happiest..
Revel in the lessons of how that was stolen..
It will be Hell..
I'll be blunt with that fact..
Want peace? Face it.
Face you.
Deflate all of your ego.
We need to bring back who we were long ago..
We need to care and foster Hope..
Eradicate foolish hate..
Value intelligence and knowledge..
Divided we are destined to **** and die..
But.. United?
We could be a beacon of hope..
A beacon brighter than God, who we're under
An American Beauty..
That has shed her mistakes..
To let go..
Of her American Ego..
Mar 10, 2021
Mar 10, 2021 at 2:23 AM UTC
No one's perfect, a truth that's always told
But goal and motivation is his stepping stone
Short term and lifelong sets made him so mold
Now he's infront of the crowd, sharing his story alone
Giving inspiration to maidens and lad
Showing the angle of sociology that life is fair
Life is unfair to him, life is unfair to her so don't be too sad
You're not the only one who has a problem to bare
He also pointed out inequality and discrimination
How it blocks the bridge for other races
How it removes peace and harmony to His creation
And gives them lesson on how to live with other faces
Demonstrating how to nurture the plants
Striking to everyone the beauty of every tree
Realizing that nature is best and independent
It could survive without us humans who's killing it continuously
Encouraging them to go out of the world
Stepping out of the front door of their comfort zone
Letting them know the lenses and view of words
Giving them the experiences that the society can provide like what's in Dale's cone
Sep 24, 2018
Sep 24, 2018 at 5:26 PM UTC
Sax,
clarinet,
grade 8,
scales,
sight reading,
frustrate.
Super rock,
teaching,
french cafe,
logic,
preaching,
don't go that way!
Camp,
sociology,
tech,
music,
general,
respect.
cleaning,
brother,
size,
love,
loss,
surprise.
feet,
freedom,
modelling,
workout,
fear,
not bothering.
Sep 29, 2013
Sep 29, 2013 at 2:47 PM UTC
The Academic World, it would seem,
hasn't so much to do now with Philosophy
as with Sociology, Economics, and Dogma.
Apr 30, 2015
Apr 30, 2015 at 2:20 PM UTC
my greatest fear
is mother and father
reading my journals
see through lines
deliberately unreadable
because i write the unthinkable
'i might not marry someday'
and the perverse
*'i wonder what's it like to **** this girl'*
and the abominable
*Amber is a woman trapped in the wrong body
and
she
is
suffocating.*
i choke on the silence
because it is woman's role
in Saturday sermons
because i cannot borrow my brother's slippers
i am not needed outdoors
because when i spoke for the trans waiter with the pained smile
they blamed my sociology
and not my compassion
mother and father, bless your souls
i'd rather not have you read this
and believe in the 'i love you's
because love is the greatest commandment
*but we spit on the ****
Jun 4, 2014
Jun 4, 2014 at 12:57 PM UTC
The Declaration of Friendship is an idea I have heard from other friends of mine and that I am building on. You could call this a sociology lesson maybe?
We will start out with a base line of Stranger Danger most people in the universe would fall under this category because we do not know most people in the world we fear them. We fear the unknown
now we have what I would call the acquaintance level we will start off with negative and then go positive.
Acquaintance Negative is someone who knows you and you don't really like each other or get along very well but you will tolerate it.
Until it goes to Dislike Status where you cant stand each other and very few people fall under this level for most people.
Acquaintance Positive is someone you know who you enjoy being around when its easy for you to see them and some times cool stuff happens sometimes it doesn't. I would say a majority of people would fall under this level. Its not a bad place to be but its not the top level of a social relationship either.
Friendship this is the level that all other levels build on how do we define it? Who is a “True Friend”? How do we reach this level?
Mar 21, 2014
Mar 21, 2014 at 10:22 PM UTC
Looking back,
I found prayers scribbled in the margins
of my sociology notes.
Sometimes,
I am unsure if God still lives
or if we have killed him.
But considering the answers those prayers received,
I believe He is still kicking.
Feb 28, 2014
Feb 28, 2014 at 10:51 AM UTC
sunday bled down my legs
my petals bloomed
your bitten lips
and the smirks between my thighs
a burning kiss
the bathtub water turned murky
a basin of sin
cutting up ******* lines
perfect symmetry
****** apartments with molded
carpets
kids with their hair bleached
love disillusions the mind
to me that's scarier
than a needle
puncturing veins
and
the long twist of train tracks
on lonely purple nights,
winter bitten cheeks
Sep 7, 2014
Sep 7, 2014 at 9:10 PM UTC
**** a sociology class, **** a community college.
**** all this ******** that they feed me called knowledge.
**** Everything even myself twice.
**** me real good i bet itll feel kinda nice
Mar 24, 2014
Mar 24, 2014 at 5:38 PM UTC
Secretly believing someone is watching
And will benevolently arrive, relieve the pain
When planets collide, lots of stuff goes awry
Every breath you take implicates you deeper
The constant cry of babies being born
Expect monsters worse than you can conceive
There is a dark alley deep in hell
Where strangers go
She was swallowing a horse who
Stomped its hooves
Kicked her in stomach pregnant with you
As soon as you enter
Someone points a finger
Hollers, “Horse child, ****** child!”
Hen-pecked men and angry haughty women
Shame is the only love i know
A murdering mob descends upon
Somebody lynching Christmas tree ornaments
Why isn’t there God?
It’s disturbing to think
We’re all acting out of chump sensibilities
Explain to me again about sociology and greater good
How long can a smell last?
A week? A month? Thousands of years?
What if higher powers exist
Unbeknownst to themselves?
Death fashionably attired without face
The importance in showing teeth
“Caw, caw!” old crow calls, anticipating winter’s squalls
I fire up cigarette, blow smoke in the faces
Of those who said no to my dreams
I’m glad i didn’t know then what i know now
The cost of joy
Tomorrow is magnificent new beginning
If only everything hadn’t happened
Aug 18, 2013
Aug 18, 2013 at 11:22 AM UTC
the one drop rule
invisible blackness
black versus white
different categories of race
created by man for evil purposes
such as caucasoid negroid and mongoloid
this is a bunch of hooey
these words are just terms for
marginalising whole groups of people
by some smarty pant with a so-called degree
in anthropology and sociology
who gives people the right to classify other racial groups
I pondered it - anyway just blue smoke and mirror stuff
created by some racist people organizations and institutions
by creating racial and class division plus religion creating wars
thus
God created man - singular form
thus
God created man from the earth (black mud)
and no accident that we are made from one blood
oh yeah - Adam's blood
mankind is just a very large extended family - based on DNA
Europeans are not 100% white
they became white because of environmental adaptations
and they are no better that the rest of God's creations on earth
skin color does not make one racial group superior than another
this is just a head and mind game for social and political advantages
however everyone is a Heinz 57 mixture
White People are mixed with so much stuff - too
oh yeah baby and who is your daddy now
race mixing has been around
throughout the history of mankind and still
it will continue to mix races in the future
just remember this
the neanderthal mated on a regular basis with the homosapien
no race is 100% pure of anything
according to one drop rule - White are neanderthals too
this one drop rule is a silly and hidden taboo that is just plain ludicrous
God is a good God
God is neither Black nor White but He is a Being of Existence of every dimension
God is the all of everything - seen and unseen
God exist in every creation
God is a part of you and me
the will of God lives in every place
God is justice and equality
God don't speech hate and racism
God is love and peace toward all mankind
God does not make men slaves
God gives man the right to be free
God wants man to be inherit the earth and be good stewards
Well ain't God good no matter how you look at it
yes He is good - all the time my brother
yes god is good and everlasting
amen amen amen
Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 10:31 PM UTC
Self-cut ginger locks that ooze pretension
pontificating so bluntly about "Cinema"
He buys Sociology textbooks at GoodWill,
TL;DR,
but they look good on a dusty shelf
don't they?
Mocking potential reactions to his
apparent ignorance.
A stoner who has never been high,
An existentialist who has never known what it is to die
A stargazer who has never seen the sky,
Highly expectant yet always refuses to try.
Ridicules what he doesn't understand
Taste so bland,
could swear he was conceived by the
FDA in a public school kitchen.
Oct 17, 2012
Oct 17, 2012 at 2:53 PM UTC
A young man was once feared of being called gay
so he went out for baseball and every other sport boys played
he tryed hard in gym, became homecomming king, and went through the birds and the bees
he even had the ladies crawling back on thier knees
he joined the army
he would be the most masculine example he would imagine he was happy
but deep down he feared he still might be gay
he had a way about him that other people caught unto
they noticed he'd make rings and such in his free time
just because the boy liked to sew
and make prettys things that would shine and glow
he figured he had a touch of ****
he figured because he liked bright things
and occasionally would watch a few chick flicks and cry
that he was'nt man enough
that he was'nt tough enough
because in america boys dont cry
thier taught to hold there feelings inside
and soon this man was withered and old
and through the years he gave up on the bright things
he figured he'd rather be unhappy then thought of as gay
so the day that he was on his deathbed
he finally admitted it
Aug 4, 2011
Aug 4, 2011 at 12:13 PM UTC
*i find the crow more eloquent,
more treacherously abiding
a fulfilment of aesthetic investigations
when walking, the crow
more beautiful than in flight,
unlike the sparrows' comic grounding,
with its epileptic quick-step twitchy
caoutchouc trot... poetically drawn
as: huh?! huh?! chirp. huh?! huh?! chirp;
really quickly.*
the only way to transition back into
the humanities from learning science,
******** p... chemistry and physics,
from these two into the humanities:
because you wrote a high standard
sociology essay plagiarising trying to
beat the anti-plagiarism logarithm
imposed... and that camus' l'étranger
also written to a 1st in the degree hierarchy...
the only transition from the sciences
to humanities is with philosophy,
which is a qausi-humanism...
mind you... edinburgh is the last gothic city,
and scotland the only place
where university can be like high school,
diverse, equipping you with many choices,
you can major chemistry, but understudy
computing, french, history, sociology, etc.
so in the background you have my favourite
theorisation: friedel-craft's alkylation & acylation /
effects of substitution on the beneze ring properties:
ortho (β) / para (ν) directing goups...
meta (π) directing groups... ipso (α) directed
at dislodging the algebraic x already attached...
i was never going to write cute poetry...
lessons in inductive effects of σ-bonds orientation
controlled by resonate (of) π-bonds...
the faustian myth continues without cute goethe rhyme.
Feb 17, 2016
Feb 17, 2016 at 12:51 PM UTC
The sentient clod in Book One,
Sat up, cleaned up, removed his thumb.
With leafless Eve and fruitful tree
(made fertile with Theology)
Gave rise to Sociology.
Of all the ololgies to appear,
Without this one we're not here.
Buy in, ward of tribal wrath,
Empathy's good for a sociopath.
Jul 31, 2014
Jul 31, 2014 at 10:13 AM UTC
With the piquant poignancy of lurid allusion
I create a dynamically progressive matrix of collusion
Whose apex crux axis is beyond finite solution
And the endergonicaly adhesive pragmatics imbue a cohesively coercive illusion
For the inveterate hypotaxis of livid elusions
I portray a protensive conjunction of latent confusions
Whose effervescent effluence is vagile laconic effusions
And the sardonic impending preponderance conveys sabbat consortium delusions
From the endemic puissance of eclectic synectics
I derive a dialectically semantic sorcery of syntactics
Whose apothegm aphorisms are levity terse synaptics
And the lucidly collusive illuminism educes the aesthetics of geomancy's fatidic
Through the viable salience of kithe’s intrinsics
I exude a portentous pervasion acuity of linguistics
Whose apomixis anabolics are irrefragably felicitous orotund acoustics
And the aural auspice austerities infer axioms of manumission’s eidetics
By the hypercritical mitigations of anachronistic sociology
I purvey rampart ransack oblations of epistemology
Whose azure opulence articulations are futurity ostensive ontology
And the evolutional ontogeny metamorphisms incur a homogeny epiphany deontology
Oct 20, 2016
Oct 20, 2016 at 10:30 PM UTC
Im a normal kind of guy.
I was born in a normal house,
In a normal street,
In a normal town,
In a normal country,
to normal parents.
My normal parents paid their taxes.
My normal parents supported whatever War was happening.
My normal parents supported whatever monarch was in power.
My normal parents voted for normal political parties.
My parents were normally patriotic.
They led normal lives.
I grew up to be normal.
I went to a normal public/private school.
I had a normal ****** relationship with another boy at school.
I gained a normal education.
I chased girls and some boys as any normal boy would.
I enjoyed normal *** with girls and some boys.
I fell in love with Jazz/Folk/Blues as any normal boy does.
I fell in love with writing and reading aloud "poetry" as any normal boy does.
I fell in love with reading novels and sociology and comparative religion as any normal boy does.
I rode motorcycles as any normal boy does.
I went camping and fishing and rambling in the fields and forests
as any normal boy does.
So my teenage years passed--halcyon days--and nights,
leaving the body behind regularly.
Until I stole my first Alto Saxophone.
Was that normal?.
It certainly was compulsive.
And no shame or guilt either.
I tried,in vain to play like Charles Parker--
and failed miserably as did everyone else.
I wandered through Europe and the Near East,
and the Middle East and South East Asia--dressed in yellow.
Cooking Rice Dal Sabji Roti-everywhere I went-.
over twigs and sweet smelling cow ****
My latest horn with "the Pres"engraved on the bell.
Played My Funny Valentine sideways and upside down.
Plastic Reeds--oh--Plastic Reeds.
And pure Crystal Mouthpieces.
I sat under Gotamas tree and NOTHING happened.
Ah sweet nothing.
I was VOID of all.
Just an empty headed wanderer.
More to come
Sep 8, 2014
Sep 8, 2014 at 3:53 AM UTC
Nothing is but an ideology
Created within the midst of terminology
Contemplated inside the realm of human sociology
Excessive thought creates a disease of unknown etiology
Without nothing, the purpose of something lacks possibly
Fathoming such perceives speculations of oddities
How can one measure that lacking of qualities
and incomplete of quantity?
Theorization subconsciously
Rationalizing improbably
On the brink of psychopathy
Is it really all but a prophecy?
Distorting my mind in such ferocity?
Encompassing dimension of philosophy
Does the term nothing orbit a sense of despondency?
Interpreting into a form of commodity
But how can I construe what nothing is,
I mean quite honestly?
Mar 7, 2014
Mar 7, 2014 at 8:17 PM UTC
I want to find poetry
in media theory
I want to find poetry
in philosophy
psychology
sociology
I want to find poetry
in the bored line of zombies
walking these streets
9 o'clock every ******* morning
I want to find poetry in
the kid scratching himself out of his skin
in the creaking chair beside me...
His voice: muffled with aggravation
and his eyes: red, sad & exhausted
They make it hard
Hard to see the beauty in this place
I want to find poetry in the distance
I want to find poetry in missing you to death
But it all just kind of blurs together
in the hot Philadelphian sun
reflecting off the pavement beneath
my tired feet
It all eventually just gets lost in the gutters
next to cigarette buds and the green glass
debris of old beer bottles all over this city
Nothing really looks like poetry
Anymore
And I'm scared
Scared I'm losing myself
Surrendering my emotions
Or trading them
For some title that says,
"Yeah. She's literate"
Because that's all it really adds up to
Pretty ******* literate
Pretty ******* bored
And definitely boring
I don't wanna be boring
And I don't wanna be bored
Don't let me lose my dreams
Please
Please don't let me go
Go this way
Sep 5, 2013
Sep 5, 2013 at 12:44 AM UTC