"systemic" poems - Hello Poetry

"systemic" poems

On the molded plastic black keys Tip- tap tipping away Smiling wickedly With self-satisfaction Words deliberately in a sociopathic array Crazed Eyes agleam Thoughts rambling across the planets In and out of reality Both far and away Each letter vibrates with its own life The deranged wordsmith's release So the clicking and typing Systemic vacant sounds Never seem to cease To the mad poet The combinations of descriptive words Overpowering Promotes the disease Hypnotizing Beguiling Calling in a sweet voice To the mad poet In letters A to Z This poem is copyrighted and stored in author base. All material subject to Copyright Infringement laws Section 512(c)(3) of the U.S. Copyright Act, 17 U.S.C. S512(c)(3), Tammy M Darby

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Jul 19, 2013

Jul 19, 2013 at 6:30 PM UTC

On the molded plastic black keys Tip- tap tipping away Smiling wickedly With self-satisfaction Words deliberately in a sociopathic array Crazed Eyes agleam Thoughts rambling across the planets In and out of reality Both far and away Each letter vibrates with its own life The deranged wordsmith's release So the clicking and typing Systemic vacant sounds Never seem to cease To the mad poet The combinations of descriptive words Overpowering Promotes the disease Hypnotizing Beguiling Calling in a sweet voice To the mad poet In letters A to Z This poem is copyrighted and stored in author base. All material subject to Copyright Infringement laws Section 512(c)(3) of the U.S. Copyright Act, 17 U.S.C. S512(c)(3), Tammy M Darby

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Yea of course, I, me, a woman, a black woman a darker black woman to be exact.. have black privilege because thats a thing you know Its like when I walk into the store and get followed .. yea or that time i came back to school with my “extensions” and was told my hair grows fast or maybe its when a white person comes up to me asking if i listen to 21 savage because “black people listen to rap right?” or my favorite is telling my brother to be safe as he heads out the door worrying he may be shot for reaching for his wallet maybe its when i worry about whether or not my brother or cousins or father will be the next Trayvon martin or Eric garner or philando castille even my black privilege has allowed me to be labeled as loud and ratchet and sometimes a *** because that what dark skin black girls are right .. yea …. thats black privilege its getting told I'm pretty for a black girl its being told I'm intimidating and mean and ugly natured but no no i swear its not cause your black I love black people I'm not racist Slavery happened years ago Black people are racist too im not racist i just don't like black people yea … I've heard it all. No ! im not just another “angry black girl” Im just a black girl Im not mad don't get me wrong I just wanted to inform you on my black privilege I wanted to inform you that it is NOT okay to touch my hair that is NOT okay to say to mock “black slang” It is not okay to say “are you speaking english” when i talk It is not okay to put my people through hundreds of years of slavery and oppression and systemic racism and TELL US TO GET OVER IT! Im sorry excuse my tone of voice but can you blame me for getting worked up when I have to worry about whether or not my people will come home at night yea … thats MY black privilege

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Jul 1, 2018

Jul 1, 2018 at 12:23 AM UTC

my black privilege

Yea of course, I, me, a woman, a black woman a darker black woman to be exact.. have black privilege because thats a thing you know Its like when I walk into the store and get followed .. yea or that time i came back to school with my “extensions” and was told my hair grows fast or maybe its when a white person comes up to me asking if i listen to 21 savage because “black people listen to rap right?” or my favorite is telling my brother to be safe as he heads out the door worrying he may be shot for reaching for his wallet maybe its when i worry about whether or not my brother or cousins or father will be the next Trayvon martin or Eric garner or philando castille even my black privilege has allowed me to be labeled as loud and ratchet and sometimes a *** because that what dark skin black girls are right .. yea …. thats black privilege its getting told I'm pretty for a black girl its being told I'm intimidating and mean and ugly natured but no no i swear its not cause your black I love black people I'm not racist Slavery happened years ago Black people are racist too im not racist i just don't like black people yea … I've heard it all. No ! im not just another “angry black girl” Im just a black girl Im not mad don't get me wrong I just wanted to inform you on my black privilege I wanted to inform you that it is NOT okay to touch my hair that is NOT okay to say to mock “black slang” It is not okay to say “are you speaking english” when i talk It is not okay to put my people through hundreds of years of slavery and oppression and systemic racism and TELL US TO GET OVER IT! Im sorry excuse my tone of voice but can you blame me for getting worked up when I have to worry about whether or not my people will come home at night yea … thats MY black privilege

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Most days, you're not a woman developer, you're a developer. You work just as hard, You (try to) talk just as fast You keep your feelings under the surface (barely) Actually, scratch that You're always a woman developer. you're just so used to internalizing these habits Trying to have confidence in your skills despite the impostor syndrome pulling you down each time slowly, like quicksand Trying to make up for the confidence you never had compared to someone who always had it all Trying to not cry in the kitchen because god who is allowed to have feelings Trying not to talk about men who made you uncomfortable because oh my god for the fact that people call women overreacting most men seem to make every little statement about them, have you noticed? oh wow, isn't this just reverse sexism? oh wow, can I even talk to women? Being so vocal about being queer and Indian but if you make one noise one sound one phrase about your experience as a woman because in such welcoming company you subconsciously thought why not You let down your guard But There goes the shattered glass as the topic of gender-based discrimination is finally broached There goes the thing nobody ever talks about There starts the debate you did not want to participate in "Oh wow you're so harsh to these guys" "We were just slamming what they were doing, you slammed their actual personality wow" "I just said they sounded like a brogrammer" "sure if you say so" "Isn't that just an arbitrary description" How do you explain How do you describe every nuanced experience about Every male in your life who have been exactly like this to you How do you explain the light discrimination The harsh discrimination The systemic problem as a whole How can you condense all this into a workplace environment talk Where you don't usually talk about this? Where you don't know if you can actually talk about this Where you know that you ultimately don't want to talk about this cuz how can you explain these feelings that they can never understand You shut up and move on with coding. But inside, you're conflicted with ideas of presentations to express the fact, or never speak about this again Because in the end, You're just a developer, not a woman developer to them.

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Jul 28, 2018

Jul 28, 2018 at 10:42 AM UTC

An Arbitrary Description (not really)

Most days, you're not a woman developer, you're a developer. You work just as hard, You (try to) talk just as fast You keep your feelings under the surface (barely) Actually, scratch that You're always a woman developer. you're just so used to internalizing these habits Trying to have confidence in your skills despite the impostor syndrome pulling you down each time slowly, like quicksand Trying to make up for the confidence you never had compared to someone who always had it all Trying to not cry in the kitchen because god who is allowed to have feelings Trying not to talk about men who made you uncomfortable because oh my god for the fact that people call women overreacting most men seem to make every little statement about them, have you noticed? oh wow, isn't this just reverse sexism? oh wow, can I even talk to women? Being so vocal about being queer and Indian but if you make one noise one sound one phrase about your experience as a woman because in such welcoming company you subconsciously thought why not You let down your guard But There goes the shattered glass as the topic of gender-based discrimination is finally broached There goes the thing nobody ever talks about There starts the debate you did not want to participate in "Oh wow you're so harsh to these guys" "We were just slamming what they were doing, you slammed their actual personality wow" "I just said they sounded like a brogrammer" "sure if you say so" "Isn't that just an arbitrary description" How do you explain How do you describe every nuanced experience about Every male in your life who have been exactly like this to you How do you explain the light discrimination The harsh discrimination The systemic problem as a whole How can you condense all this into a workplace environment talk Where you don't usually talk about this? Where you don't know if you can actually talk about this Where you know that you ultimately don't want to talk about this cuz how can you explain these feelings that they can never understand You shut up and move on with coding. But inside, you're conflicted with ideas of presentations to express the fact, or never speak about this again Because in the end, You're just a developer, not a woman developer to them.

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Every time people start to rise up, a whole buncha problematic mess gets thrown around regarding VIOLENCE. So, what is "violence" really?... It's the use of force. Plain and simple. What makes folks uncomfortable (who are otherwise comfortable in this system) is that UPRISING IS A SOMETIMES VIOLENT (read: forceful) REACTION TO SYSTEMATIC VIOLENCE: Yes, just like the Hunger Games... Thus, there are many types of violence... The fact that we are paying taxes that are funding the genocide and ****** of people of color (here and abroad) is violence. People with guns (former slave patrols and overseers, now cops) who come from outside our community and treat our folks as criminals on the daily is violence. Capitalism, i.e. wage/property/ecology-based exploitation in the name of profit is violence. The fact that LA County spends more $$ than anywhere in the world on prisons and police is violence. The fact that the US locks up more of its own people than any other country on record is violence. US aiding/funding the genocide of Palestinians at the hands of Israel is genocidal violence. From Congress, to the boardrooms, to the classrooms, from the gaze, to the unwanted touching, to the **** to the pay, Patriarchy everyday, is violence. A few people jacking some **** at Walmart or breaking a window is really minimal violence in comparison. A couple people throwing **** at armed cops is not serious violence. The idea of owning property that other must rent to live is violent. Systemic, chronic, global insecurity in the form of material poverty is violence. Wage slavery is violence. Gentrification is violence. The War On Youth, i.e. the School-to-Prison pipeline, and, thus the War-on-Drugs with its attending 76% recidivism rate in the prison-industrial complex, whose populations are disproportionately black males, is violence. The fact that people can't go to the doctor and dentist, or eat food every day is violence. Deportations are violence. Homophobia is violence. The world's largest global military that vaporizes people without due process in dozens of countries violating their biophysical and national sovereignty is violence. The United States government sanctioning the ****** of non-white, but especially Muslim bodies across the world... is violence. So, when you condemn violence, do you mean resistance? Because there is a whole lot of violence you should be condemning instead. Adapted from Emilio Lacques-Zapien

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Dec 31, 2014

Dec 31, 2014 at 11:14 AM UTC

The fire this time

Every time people start to rise up, a whole buncha problematic mess gets thrown around regarding VIOLENCE. So, what is "violence" really?... It's the use of force. Plain and simple. What makes folks uncomfortable (who are otherwise comfortable in this system) is that UPRISING IS A SOMETIMES VIOLENT (read: forceful) REACTION TO SYSTEMATIC VIOLENCE: Yes, just like the Hunger Games... Thus, there are many types of violence... The fact that we are paying taxes that are funding the genocide and ****** of people of color (here and abroad) is violence. People with guns (former slave patrols and overseers, now cops) who come from outside our community and treat our folks as criminals on the daily is violence. Capitalism, i.e. wage/property/ecology-based exploitation in the name of profit is violence. The fact that LA County spends more $$ than anywhere in the world on prisons and police is violence. The fact that the US locks up more of its own people than any other country on record is violence. US aiding/funding the genocide of Palestinians at the hands of Israel is genocidal violence. From Congress, to the boardrooms, to the classrooms, from the gaze, to the unwanted touching, to the **** to the pay, Patriarchy everyday, is violence. A few people jacking some **** at Walmart or breaking a window is really minimal violence in comparison. A couple people throwing **** at armed cops is not serious violence. The idea of owning property that other must rent to live is violent. Systemic, chronic, global insecurity in the form of material poverty is violence. Wage slavery is violence. Gentrification is violence. The War On Youth, i.e. the School-to-Prison pipeline, and, thus the War-on-Drugs with its attending 76% recidivism rate in the prison-industrial complex, whose populations are disproportionately black males, is violence. The fact that people can't go to the doctor and dentist, or eat food every day is violence. Deportations are violence. Homophobia is violence. The world's largest global military that vaporizes people without due process in dozens of countries violating their biophysical and national sovereignty is violence. The United States government sanctioning the ****** of non-white, but especially Muslim bodies across the world... is violence. So, when you condemn violence, do you mean resistance? Because there is a whole lot of violence you should be condemning instead. Adapted from Emilio Lacques-Zapien

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A populace filled with totalitarian tranquility The supposition that the world is in a harmonic homeostasis Blissful ignorance that leads to careless calamity Amid the uproar of the most populated of places Therein lies the seed of humanity’s deceptive destruction A solitary host housing a virulent virus Infectious disease that proceeds crisis and corruption Hope only stands with the powerful and pious Prognosis describes communicable cannibalism Rabid outbursts show signs of voracious violence The harrowing pandemic leads to ceaseless cataclysm Cities and towns suspended in systemic silence Habitations riddled with gratuitous gore Hope fades in the wake of the crimson carnage The pestilent hoard feeds to a glutton’s galore The Author of humanity publishes the final page The closing verse rains down a rapturous recompense The high cost of a dense population paid at humanity’s existential expense

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Oct 31, 2018

Oct 31, 2018 at 11:06 PM UTC

Affliction’s Assimilation

A populace filled with totalitarian tranquility The supposition that the world is in a harmonic homeostasis Blissful ignorance that leads to careless calamity Amid the uproar of the most populated of places Therein lies the seed of humanity’s deceptive destruction A solitary host housing a virulent virus Infectious disease that proceeds crisis and corruption Hope only stands with the powerful and pious Prognosis describes communicable cannibalism Rabid outbursts show signs of voracious violence The harrowing pandemic leads to ceaseless cataclysm Cities and towns suspended in systemic silence Habitations riddled with gratuitous gore Hope fades in the wake of the crimson carnage The pestilent hoard feeds to a glutton’s galore The Author of humanity publishes the final page The closing verse rains down a rapturous recompense The high cost of a dense population paid at humanity’s existential expense

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The nineties sold us unity: bright sitcoms, Benetton colors, commercials where everyone smiled as though inequity had been resolved. But the decade bled on screen— a Black man beaten on asphalt, a truck driver dragged from his cab, bomb dust in Oklahoma, children hunted in a school corridor. Unity was the costume; violence was the stage. Then came a Black president. For a moment, the story looked complete. "Post-racial," they said, as though history had closed. But the mask split. Social media tore out the gatekeepers. The hate that had been muted found its tongue, found its profit, and screamed into the feed. Division pays. Unity does not. Violence is systemic, holistic, from home to street to state. Silence makes it whole. The ethic remains: If it is wrong, you stop it. Otherwise the cycle turns, profitable, endless, calling itself America.

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Aug 19, 2025

Aug 19, 2025 at 5:45 AM UTC

The United States of Bananas

The nineties sold us unity: bright sitcoms, Benetton colors, commercials where everyone smiled as though inequity had been resolved. But the decade bled on screen— a Black man beaten on asphalt, a truck driver dragged from his cab, bomb dust in Oklahoma, children hunted in a school corridor. Unity was the costume; violence was the stage. Then came a Black president. For a moment, the story looked complete. "Post-racial," they said, as though history had closed. But the mask split. Social media tore out the gatekeepers. The hate that had been muted found its tongue, found its profit, and screamed into the feed. Division pays. Unity does not. Violence is systemic, holistic, from home to street to state. Silence makes it whole. The ethic remains: If it is wrong, you stop it. Otherwise the cycle turns, profitable, endless, calling itself America.

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seductive effective cutlass sadistic serendipity and la la la licorice liquor lick her and plastic roses rise relentless resentment time mime rhyme desire sentiment sincerely aspire admire anonymous synonymous simultaneous symmetry molasses disastrous syntactic mirrorly Samir sincere severe severe la la la love na na na never samirly this way suicide sinister cynical silence stop and stare care and share love with or without violence sloppy seconds menace a menace minus a life structure dependence relevance relevance irrelevance sense tense and meaninglessness sincerely samirly synthetic systemic sense cents cents sense sense cents

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Sep 19, 2012

Sep 19, 2012 at 12:23 AM UTC

seductive effective cutlass sadistic serendipity and la la la licorice liquor lick her and plastic roses rise relentless resentment time mime rhyme desire sentiment sincerely aspire admire anonymous synonymous simultaneous symmetry molasses disastrous syntactic mirrorly Samir sincere severe severe la la la love na na na never samirly this way suicide sinister cynical silence stop and stare care and share love with or without violence sloppy seconds menace a menace minus a life structure dependence relevance relevance irrelevance sense tense and meaninglessness sincerely samirly synthetic systemic sense cents cents sense sense cents

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I truly have a love...hate... relationship between believing... what I know and... knowing what I believe... Symbiotic... and toxic... It's a detailed. enigma... My curse... My passion... an ever present pull... with stubborn intent often directly opposed To the path which I am on... When I was much younger I developed a systemic and purposeful mission to design the person I was to become I had carefully weighed... tested and mapped out my "edges" finally setteling on habits, personalities and a type of lifestyle... this allows me a precarious balance... between honor, appearances and fair exchange .. friendship, acceptance and fun... Something rare during my colorful and... then recent childhood... Like I said... young... and well... Once I found my path... I stubbornly believed... That no others... existed...for me Really young... ...hee hee hee As we all know... life happens ... ...and I rolled and flowed... and always seed to manage But I didn't bloom... I just became really good at being me. Just missing... a really good second... again waiting...to become...

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Dec 11, 2013

Dec 11, 2013 at 3:57 PM UTC

Accepting Serendipity...

I truly have a love...hate... relationship between believing... what I know and... knowing what I believe... Symbiotic... and toxic... It's a detailed. enigma... My curse... My passion... an ever present pull... with stubborn intent often directly opposed To the path which I am on... When I was much younger I developed a systemic and purposeful mission to design the person I was to become I had carefully weighed... tested and mapped out my "edges" finally setteling on habits, personalities and a type of lifestyle... this allows me a precarious balance... between honor, appearances and fair exchange .. friendship, acceptance and fun... Something rare during my colorful and... then recent childhood... Like I said... young... and well... Once I found my path... I stubbornly believed... That no others... existed...for me Really young... ...hee hee hee As we all know... life happens ... ...and I rolled and flowed... and always seed to manage But I didn't bloom... I just became really good at being me. Just missing... a really good second... again waiting...to become...

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#*“You cannot hold it, but it will cradle you. You cannot see or touch it, but when contact comes, You will see me, hold me, as in the days of your youth, When you loved me best, And I, you.”* **From: Seven New Poems for Seven Days #2: Hover ... by Nat Lipstadt** ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ in memoriam to memories: for Miriam and Nat reading each thought numerous ticks of days, imbibe the silent of the silence hanging from the rafters this wilderness roof; grayed heartwood walls that separate fractals of inseparable distances ― celebrations the roads taken ― memories of those left behind at the side of the mile untrodden Congregated love and sorrow’s spoken words scribed on paper bark touchstones ― etched watermarks of perpetual tides patina the afterglow of life's ebb and flow, traces of everything and naught can ever fill Experiencing intimate moments immemorial; the whispers of living pulse still murmurs in the gentle breeze between the gathered words of heart breathing deeply ― a rush of systemic truth born in the wholly sacred blood bequeathed A soul outside the lines ponders ― the sum whole of a life well lived; coming to understand, although all might not see the same light shine: there’s a place one day we’ll return we found along the way because one day will come by here … harlon rivers ... Memorial Day weekend ... May, 2018 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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May 24, 2018

May 24, 2018 at 2:29 PM UTC

in memoriam to memories

#*“You cannot hold it, but it will cradle you. You cannot see or touch it, but when contact comes, You will see me, hold me, as in the days of your youth, When you loved me best, And I, you.”* **From: Seven New Poems for Seven Days #2: Hover ... by Nat Lipstadt** ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ in memoriam to memories: for Miriam and Nat reading each thought numerous ticks of days, imbibe the silent of the silence hanging from the rafters this wilderness roof; grayed heartwood walls that separate fractals of inseparable distances ― celebrations the roads taken ― memories of those left behind at the side of the mile untrodden Congregated love and sorrow’s spoken words scribed on paper bark touchstones ― etched watermarks of perpetual tides patina the afterglow of life's ebb and flow, traces of everything and naught can ever fill Experiencing intimate moments immemorial; the whispers of living pulse still murmurs in the gentle breeze between the gathered words of heart breathing deeply ― a rush of systemic truth born in the wholly sacred blood bequeathed A soul outside the lines ponders ― the sum whole of a life well lived; coming to understand, although all might not see the same light shine: there’s a place one day we’ll return we found along the way because one day will come by here … harlon rivers ... Memorial Day weekend ... May, 2018 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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It sounds like a broken record Feels just like a revolving door When another tin-star soldier Explains what somebody died for When both sides are crying "justice!" But when all things are complete There's another broken family There's more blood out in the street. And there's nobody to answer for The systemic elimination Of innocent black men and boys Across this old and broken nation. When guilt is predetermined And last resorts become reflex A whole race of Americans Are forced to worry "Am I next?" You don't have to like the truth In order for the truth to be. You can cry out furiously When men in protest take a knee, But if you deny the evidence When the truth is brought to light Then, you're a sucker or a liar, Either way, you're just not right.

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Sep 21, 2016

Sep 21, 2016 at 2:28 PM UTC

clayborn-todd-wooton

Justified Homicide

It sounds like a broken record Feels just like a revolving door When another tin-star soldier Explains what somebody died for When both sides are crying "justice!" But when all things are complete There's another broken family There's more blood out in the street. And there's nobody to answer for The systemic elimination Of innocent black men and boys Across this old and broken nation. When guilt is predetermined And last resorts become reflex A whole race of Americans Are forced to worry "Am I next?" You don't have to like the truth In order for the truth to be. You can cry out furiously When men in protest take a knee, But if you deny the evidence When the truth is brought to light Then, you're a sucker or a liar, Either way, you're just not right.

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Maiden, maiden, maiden, a depilidate mobious minaret – Holical, Eris begs an atlatl defection, the Genuis-from-Mars technique – an erathicus lecanopteris. Suffretex, past-perfection in pastel gloxinia, Glowingly acidic and shiftingly glossidic, it’s cosmaltry mariala; Ungual outmoded, holonym singing Aquilar rapax as demiurge. Demos and Phobos weep, coruscating terrathos, killing riva. Swell quickly, optic ophidia, lest the ira florena rise – Rise, maiden, rise optic ophidia, ignore Irredelphine! Strut the hematacolpa and pace-willow, but fail flow: Deciduous telechir beckons, demanding autobogotic-hajra. Piss-venom and picea hovea, eche verri naught echo – Beta-decay and COBOL error, fandango with teeth And sing praise for Eucladanic soignè solaris Sprint quick, maiden-solidago gesparisè, to Misra pourum! Majerns and hapax, death-knell aloud and encelia, Enfloranè, haste! Enatic haste tichodrome, flee, anise! Apios, harken: tryst-sans-thermobic sweeping of thresher-thrown, Little-low else yet achroma, de-jubilance: Fall fairly, ayah! So to be so, blanking systemic, A thousand steps for one death.

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Jul 4, 2010

Jul 4, 2010 at 12:25 PM UTC

The Maiden as Demiurge

Maiden, maiden, maiden, a depilidate mobious minaret – Holical, Eris begs an atlatl defection, the Genuis-from-Mars technique – an erathicus lecanopteris. Suffretex, past-perfection in pastel gloxinia, Glowingly acidic and shiftingly glossidic, it’s cosmaltry mariala; Ungual outmoded, holonym singing Aquilar rapax as demiurge. Demos and Phobos weep, coruscating terrathos, killing riva. Swell quickly, optic ophidia, lest the ira florena rise – Rise, maiden, rise optic ophidia, ignore Irredelphine! Strut the hematacolpa and pace-willow, but fail flow: Deciduous telechir beckons, demanding autobogotic-hajra. Piss-venom and picea hovea, eche verri naught echo – Beta-decay and COBOL error, fandango with teeth And sing praise for Eucladanic soignè solaris Sprint quick, maiden-solidago gesparisè, to Misra pourum! Majerns and hapax, death-knell aloud and encelia, Enfloranè, haste! Enatic haste tichodrome, flee, anise! Apios, harken: tryst-sans-thermobic sweeping of thresher-thrown, Little-low else yet achroma, de-jubilance: Fall fairly, ayah! So to be so, blanking systemic, A thousand steps for one death.

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All alone with no place to call home A vagrant called The Wanderer roams Destitute and resigned to his solitude No one to miss him or care that he’s gone Immortalized with the mark of Sloan He thrives amongst forgotten gravestones To restore their legacy is why he intrudes For systemic erasure he believes society must atone All alone with no place to call home A vagrant called The Wanderer roams Destitute and resigned to his solitude No one to miss him or care that he’s gone Empathy drives this misguided untomb Generations of oppressors he seeks to dethrone Reality remains an unfamiliar interlude For to delusion The Wanderer is prone All alone with no place to call home A vagrant called The Wanderer roams Destitute and resigned to his solitude No one to miss him or care that he’s gone All alone with no place to call home A hero called The Wanderer roams Complacent in his intrepid pursuit Unfaltering ‘till the world sees glory of Arawn

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Dec 6, 2018

Dec 6, 2018 at 8:50 AM UTC

Ballad of The Wanderer

All alone with no place to call home A vagrant called The Wanderer roams Destitute and resigned to his solitude No one to miss him or care that he’s gone Immortalized with the mark of Sloan He thrives amongst forgotten gravestones To restore their legacy is why he intrudes For systemic erasure he believes society must atone All alone with no place to call home A vagrant called The Wanderer roams Destitute and resigned to his solitude No one to miss him or care that he’s gone Empathy drives this misguided untomb Generations of oppressors he seeks to dethrone Reality remains an unfamiliar interlude For to delusion The Wanderer is prone All alone with no place to call home A vagrant called The Wanderer roams Destitute and resigned to his solitude No one to miss him or care that he’s gone All alone with no place to call home A hero called The Wanderer roams Complacent in his intrepid pursuit Unfaltering ‘till the world sees glory of Arawn

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There are 12 types of joy: simple joy almost joy systemic joy Saturday joy expressing joy knowing joy all joy max joy constant inputs of joy single greatest joy sacrifice or joy the face of joy at the periapsis of earth’s orbit.

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Feb 13, 2024

Feb 13, 2024 at 6:40 AM UTC

There are 12 types of joy: simple joy almost joy systemic joy Saturday joy expressing joy knowing joy all joy max joy constant inputs of joy single greatest joy sacrifice or joy the face of joy at the periapsis of earth’s orbit.

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There is dirt mixed with blood Underneath our fingernails Our life is mixed with mud While we fight and flail The struggle is for my agency Otherwise I feel they're ****** me I feel they are replacing me With an imposition of their will Love as vast as the sea Wouldn't get them their fill Their emotions they **** For a ****** thrill That could be achieved by a pill But instead they use power For they understand in this hour There is a mentality Of fatality Where we minimize our enemies to their negative desires So we can build with our allies oppressive empires Until the whole world is on fire And these rapists can do as they please When it's systemic they do it with ease In a world without trust They are the beneficiaries They care only for lust With actions incendiary Burning the forest they hide in Where our secrets provide their shade Because overwhelming suspicion pervades The image of all strangers We see only danger And our judgement is skewed When everybody is considered a ****** Yet there are only a few There is a moment When I make a ****** decision I am not sure what the recipient's reaction will be There are two negative extremes to this situation: 1. I will **** them 2. They will falsely accuse me of **** Our ****** lives are navigating these issues of trust Between those extremes But when our definition of **** Starts to define the victim's comfort As more important than the violator's intent We show an unwillingness to understand and a bias Which would give anyone reason to not trust someone And the ****** atmosphere becomes one of uncertainty People get into relationships so they don't have to worry about it But bachelors must consider these things **** victims must too As well as the man sitting in prison for fraudulent claims One has been illegally ***** The other has been ***** legally I'd imagine both might see a world of rapists afterwards Yet there are only a few

0

Dec 22, 2017

Dec 22, 2017 at 6:37 AM UTC

There is dirt mixed with blood Underneath our fingernails Our life is mixed with mud While we fight and flail The struggle is for my agency Otherwise I feel they're ****** me I feel they are replacing me With an imposition of their will Love as vast as the sea Wouldn't get them their fill Their emotions they **** For a ****** thrill That could be achieved by a pill But instead they use power For they understand in this hour There is a mentality Of fatality Where we minimize our enemies to their negative desires So we can build with our allies oppressive empires Until the whole world is on fire And these rapists can do as they please When it's systemic they do it with ease In a world without trust They are the beneficiaries They care only for lust With actions incendiary Burning the forest they hide in Where our secrets provide their shade Because overwhelming suspicion pervades The image of all strangers We see only danger And our judgement is skewed When everybody is considered a ****** Yet there are only a few There is a moment When I make a ****** decision I am not sure what the recipient's reaction will be There are two negative extremes to this situation: 1. I will **** them 2. They will falsely accuse me of **** Our ****** lives are navigating these issues of trust Between those extremes But when our definition of **** Starts to define the victim's comfort As more important than the violator's intent We show an unwillingness to understand and a bias Which would give anyone reason to not trust someone And the ****** atmosphere becomes one of uncertainty People get into relationships so they don't have to worry about it But bachelors must consider these things **** victims must too As well as the man sitting in prison for fraudulent claims One has been illegally ***** The other has been ***** legally I'd imagine both might see a world of rapists afterwards Yet there are only a few

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Over the past year or so I've become a little bit more extroverted as I'm not meditating as much these days like I used to be and this may not be such a bad thing if my mind isn't perverted or led astray on the wrong path most of the world is we see. But here again this could be just an admission of weakness trying to justify the position that I now find myself to be in along with the rest of the world experiencing a global sickness in the form of the Covid-19 pandemic the result of man's sin. ------------------------- The madness of this world has brought on this pandemic and the underlying cause of it is systemic. ______________________________

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May 24, 2021

May 24, 2021 at 9:23 AM UTC

Over the past year or so I've become a little bit more extroverted as I'm not meditating as much these days like I used to be and this may not be such a bad thing if my mind isn't perverted or led astray on the wrong path most of the world is we see. But here again this could be just an admission of weakness trying to justify the position that I now find myself to be in along with the rest of the world experiencing a global sickness in the form of the Covid-19 pandemic the result of man's sin. ------------------------- The madness of this world has brought on this pandemic and the underlying cause of it is systemic. ______________________________

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The parking lot beeps know how to creep, Creating the jingle and jangle That hit her with the smooth cutting angle, The rhymes and the wishes Intruding her like the farmer farming fishes, Pound and slit until she can’t fully handle, With strength in her arms burning out like the candle Once lit as her ribs crunch from the pull of the mador, Crushing her with Frankenstein's failure far greater, Her eyes missed more misinterpretation Of her admission with intense hallucination, While the divorce of her lighter burns the constrained homicide, Although it didn’t stem from her sister’s suicide, Contradiction? She’d say it was an addiction, Death isn't what she grew up to fear, What’s that? There’s more despair? Is it the systemic collapse that she can’t bear? Trunks click open with a cluster of blunts, Puffing the herb anytime she wants, Insanity spawns a circumstantial sport, Which she crystallized quenching some support, From the bubble of her family she couldn't help but pop, While begging the janitor to mop The puddle of horrific insensual Desires that end up so sensual, Sprinting to the finish line in her own ordeal pace, Winning an irreplaceable Prize for finishing in fifth place, The doppelganger can’t even comment On the records of her CD retching as she continues to ***** There she blows before you know, ‘Tis no way they could tiptoe Around this drear deep-end **********

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Aug 7, 2017

Aug 7, 2017 at 2:08 PM UTC

Transgender Offender

The parking lot beeps know how to creep, Creating the jingle and jangle That hit her with the smooth cutting angle, The rhymes and the wishes Intruding her like the farmer farming fishes, Pound and slit until she can’t fully handle, With strength in her arms burning out like the candle Once lit as her ribs crunch from the pull of the mador, Crushing her with Frankenstein's failure far greater, Her eyes missed more misinterpretation Of her admission with intense hallucination, While the divorce of her lighter burns the constrained homicide, Although it didn’t stem from her sister’s suicide, Contradiction? She’d say it was an addiction, Death isn't what she grew up to fear, What’s that? There’s more despair? Is it the systemic collapse that she can’t bear? Trunks click open with a cluster of blunts, Puffing the herb anytime she wants, Insanity spawns a circumstantial sport, Which she crystallized quenching some support, From the bubble of her family she couldn't help but pop, While begging the janitor to mop The puddle of horrific insensual Desires that end up so sensual, Sprinting to the finish line in her own ordeal pace, Winning an irreplaceable Prize for finishing in fifth place, The doppelganger can’t even comment On the records of her CD retching as she continues to ***** There she blows before you know, ‘Tis no way they could tiptoe Around this drear deep-end **********

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How do I even start this text? What words to use? What should come next? In my body, no longer vexed! I can't remember this good feeling! My mind is giddy! My senses reeling! I finally received a healing! You best believe I have been kneeling... No devil brood to do more stealing! I was ill. Terribly cursed. I went to the doctor Expecting the worst His response was not rehearsed... My kidney problem was reversed! I had a problem on many points Uric acid in my joints I had a fog inside my brain I felt tired, my body strained. My whole system felt restrained. My tears made my pillow stained. Oh! But now I am so elated! All the symptoms have abated! Everything in us is related! More progress anticipated! I might even find a job! There's Someone I wish to applaud Don't find it strange. Don't find it odd... I give ALL the PRAISE TO GOD!!! Cathy Jarvis 9/27/2018

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Sep 27, 2018

Sep 27, 2018 at 3:09 PM UTC

Systemic Healing... for Cathy Jarvis a.k.a. SøułSurvivør!

How do I even start this text? What words to use? What should come next? In my body, no longer vexed! I can't remember this good feeling! My mind is giddy! My senses reeling! I finally received a healing! You best believe I have been kneeling... No devil brood to do more stealing! I was ill. Terribly cursed. I went to the doctor Expecting the worst His response was not rehearsed... My kidney problem was reversed! I had a problem on many points Uric acid in my joints I had a fog inside my brain I felt tired, my body strained. My whole system felt restrained. My tears made my pillow stained. Oh! But now I am so elated! All the symptoms have abated! Everything in us is related! More progress anticipated! I might even find a job! There's Someone I wish to applaud Don't find it strange. Don't find it odd... I give ALL the PRAISE TO GOD!!! Cathy Jarvis 9/27/2018

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I'm not religious. I'm not even spiritual. I'm just a cold, soft Vulcan. The system of the down has isolated me here to think, which is what a Vulcan does all the time. It's really pointless. It is desert, hot and cold served in deprivation, meditation, and solitude. The system has been doing this for eons. It's called increasing systemic risk when stressed. I make a cognitive chunk for you to cogitate over coffee. Picture this. Wandering Boy Scouts (BS) in their pickup trucks, helpful, strong, vicious when aimless, efficiently cruel, mechanized abattoir makers mass pit diggers, merit badge takers. Smell the BS. It all goes into baking gooey brownie BS, repugnantly pungent, and redolent of sweet burning flesh. Stressed, the down system spits BS out randomly to nucleate, and procreate if possible. Breeding a new Brand, with Cult leader Classes and all the -isms. Visionaries with their caries; Pushers with agendas hidden; Leaders steadfast in conviction, taking a nation, against all odds, in Battling Bulges, ****** lines hidden within clean, pleated leather skirts that still reveal penciled seams up straight shaved bare legs. This is how the system shakes itself; auto ****** asphyxiation. Vulcan's never shake the bars of their cells because there's no barring except Great Walls forbidding, with a wink, killing each other. To be thy Greek brother's keeper, is to cut not that brother man, but the other brother man down with BS fervor and S&M; madness, before bondaging his wounds in mummified State, taped shut with a healing kiss. To have dominion over the animals means a bludgeoned pleasure, or transplanted desire. Dominion to exploit blunted, unconditional, emotional resources, until the system gels again, vaginally or astrolly whole.

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Aug 9, 2013

Aug 9, 2013 at 11:11 PM UTC

I'm not religious. I'm not even spiritual. I'm just a cold, soft Vulcan. The system of the down has isolated me here to think, which is what a Vulcan does all the time. It's really pointless. It is desert, hot and cold served in deprivation, meditation, and solitude. The system has been doing this for eons. It's called increasing systemic risk when stressed. I make a cognitive chunk for you to cogitate over coffee. Picture this. Wandering Boy Scouts (BS) in their pickup trucks, helpful, strong, vicious when aimless, efficiently cruel, mechanized abattoir makers mass pit diggers, merit badge takers. Smell the BS. It all goes into baking gooey brownie BS, repugnantly pungent, and redolent of sweet burning flesh. Stressed, the down system spits BS out randomly to nucleate, and procreate if possible. Breeding a new Brand, with Cult leader Classes and all the -isms. Visionaries with their caries; Pushers with agendas hidden; Leaders steadfast in conviction, taking a nation, against all odds, in Battling Bulges, ****** lines hidden within clean, pleated leather skirts that still reveal penciled seams up straight shaved bare legs. This is how the system shakes itself; auto ****** asphyxiation. Vulcan's never shake the bars of their cells because there's no barring except Great Walls forbidding, with a wink, killing each other. To be thy Greek brother's keeper, is to cut not that brother man, but the other brother man down with BS fervor and S&M; madness, before bondaging his wounds in mummified State, taped shut with a healing kiss. To have dominion over the animals means a bludgeoned pleasure, or transplanted desire. Dominion to exploit blunted, unconditional, emotional resources, until the system gels again, vaginally or astrolly whole.

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By: Cedric McClester By no means is my diatribe polemic The truth of the matter it was systemic The CIA created the crack epidemic Which over time became pandemic They needed a scapegoat to pay the cost So they blamed it all on Freeway Rickey Ross While acting as if he was the boss In hopes the evidence somehow would get lost Then a reporter for the San Jose Mercury News Came along and gave them the blues By exposing their involvement they stood accused Of funding the Contras and substance abuse Meanwhile Nancy Reagan was just saying no Her husband Ronald was using the dough To fund the Contras like I told you so So don’t pretend as if you didn’t know Ronald Reagan remains the patron saint For Conservatives everywhere even though he ain’t What they make him out to be despite the taint Of his secret dealings done without restraint His secret deals with Iran and the Contra’s too Was something that very few people knew See there was no limit to what he would do To insure that the Communists got the ***** The crack epidemic was allowed to grow Because of the supply a never-ending flow From Bogata to other places we know Fueled by ambition and the money yo So they shouldn’t pretend to be squeaky clean While blaming the victims ya know what I mean When they’re nothing short of being obscene Though we tend to blame the average crack fiend Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2015. All rights reserved.

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Sep 15, 2015

Sep 15, 2015 at 3:34 AM UTC

cedric-mcclester

THE CIA CREATED THE CRACK EPIDEMIC

By: Cedric McClester By no means is my diatribe polemic The truth of the matter it was systemic The CIA created the crack epidemic Which over time became pandemic They needed a scapegoat to pay the cost So they blamed it all on Freeway Rickey Ross While acting as if he was the boss In hopes the evidence somehow would get lost Then a reporter for the San Jose Mercury News Came along and gave them the blues By exposing their involvement they stood accused Of funding the Contras and substance abuse Meanwhile Nancy Reagan was just saying no Her husband Ronald was using the dough To fund the Contras like I told you so So don’t pretend as if you didn’t know Ronald Reagan remains the patron saint For Conservatives everywhere even though he ain’t What they make him out to be despite the taint Of his secret dealings done without restraint His secret deals with Iran and the Contra’s too Was something that very few people knew See there was no limit to what he would do To insure that the Communists got the ***** The crack epidemic was allowed to grow Because of the supply a never-ending flow From Bogata to other places we know Fueled by ambition and the money yo So they shouldn’t pretend to be squeaky clean While blaming the victims ya know what I mean When they’re nothing short of being obscene Though we tend to blame the average crack fiend Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2015. All rights reserved.

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Have you ever heard the term "The grass is always greener on the other side" I'm going to assume you have But I think the better question to ponder is What happens when there's no more grass? What are we doing to our earth There is trash heaps the size of this city And our society should feel guilty When the only one that bats an eye Is an incoherent ****** hippie You know anybody can make a difference This disparity must be stopped So let's take a stand Because my generation, our generation Will face the greatest threat that has ever faced this nation And that is climate change AND if you ask me it is very strange That so many people remain caged In a cell of disregard Acting like our earth isn't scared Around the world we're facing Irreversible drought A rising sea level A midst the sixth mass extinction So why is our society Not showing the distinction That this is a pivotal issue As teenagers we're Watching environments be Wrecked by our forefathers While your sons and daughters Will face the systemic problems We forsake. So the burden is on me, Its on you, on all of our shoulders To fight with a rage To end climate change.

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Dec 22, 2015

Dec 22, 2015 at 8:58 PM UTC

Consequences (speech)

Have you ever heard the term "The grass is always greener on the other side" I'm going to assume you have But I think the better question to ponder is What happens when there's no more grass? What are we doing to our earth There is trash heaps the size of this city And our society should feel guilty When the only one that bats an eye Is an incoherent ****** hippie You know anybody can make a difference This disparity must be stopped So let's take a stand Because my generation, our generation Will face the greatest threat that has ever faced this nation And that is climate change AND if you ask me it is very strange That so many people remain caged In a cell of disregard Acting like our earth isn't scared Around the world we're facing Irreversible drought A rising sea level A midst the sixth mass extinction So why is our society Not showing the distinction That this is a pivotal issue As teenagers we're Watching environments be Wrecked by our forefathers While your sons and daughters Will face the systemic problems We forsake. So the burden is on me, Its on you, on all of our shoulders To fight with a rage To end climate change.

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( ) ( ) ( ) \/ /\ / \ ++ the whole earth ( or more ) From the tiniest creatures in the sea The sea itself ! The air ! and ALL MANKIND are being ruthlessly destroyed Before our very eyes ! // We foolishly ( and vainly ) blame Things like GREED LACK OF EDUCATION OVER - POPULATION etc But we intuitively know that this is not so We intuitively sense that this UTTER DESTRUCTION is a planned and purposeful event Being consciously perpetuated by some power That we cannot identify But we know that it is too systemic that it is not mere random events congealing To be seen as something of human mis - management •• Just look what has become of HUMAN SEXUALITY Turned into a recreational activity ! A game of ADDICTIVE NUMBNESS vs . HEART ACHE ! the reproductive Survival of the species Aspect ? GONE ! // We are no longer even TRYING to survive !! •• We worship CELEBRITY ! we have CELEBRITY SAINTS and a CELEBRITY GOD ! // We are gathered here in solemn commitment To each other and our dying world WE ARE THE POETS we come to stimulate our souls We come to stimulate bold words ! we come as a healing power To renew the real meaning of words ! ( words such as LOVE ) we are here to DIE ! to die in sacrifice for TOMORROW and it's PURE PURPOSE AND MEANING // We are THE LAST OF THE HUMANS the final drops In the broken wine bottle Falling so seductively Onto the old apartment floor "" We are as the healing Waters We give ourselves So that the world Might drink // We give ourselves to GAIA we give ourselves to LIFE

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Apr 22, 2015

Apr 22, 2015 at 4:39 PM UTC

( ) ( ) ( ) \/ /\ / \ ++ the whole earth ( or more ) From the tiniest creatures in the sea The sea itself ! The air ! and ALL MANKIND are being ruthlessly destroyed Before our very eyes ! // We foolishly ( and vainly ) blame Things like GREED LACK OF EDUCATION OVER - POPULATION etc But we intuitively know that this is not so We intuitively sense that this UTTER DESTRUCTION is a planned and purposeful event Being consciously perpetuated by some power That we cannot identify But we know that it is too systemic that it is not mere random events congealing To be seen as something of human mis - management •• Just look what has become of HUMAN SEXUALITY Turned into a recreational activity ! A game of ADDICTIVE NUMBNESS vs . HEART ACHE ! the reproductive Survival of the species Aspect ? GONE ! // We are no longer even TRYING to survive !! •• We worship CELEBRITY ! we have CELEBRITY SAINTS and a CELEBRITY GOD ! // We are gathered here in solemn commitment To each other and our dying world WE ARE THE POETS we come to stimulate our souls We come to stimulate bold words ! we come as a healing power To renew the real meaning of words ! ( words such as LOVE ) we are here to DIE ! to die in sacrifice for TOMORROW and it's PURE PURPOSE AND MEANING // We are THE LAST OF THE HUMANS the final drops In the broken wine bottle Falling so seductively Onto the old apartment floor "" We are as the healing Waters We give ourselves So that the world Might drink // We give ourselves to GAIA we give ourselves to LIFE

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Dear America, I’m really disappointed in you. It’s a harsh way to start a letter, I know, but that’s truly how I feel. Our leadership (if you can call it that) has unveiled the deep rooted White supremacy and sexism that this country was founded upon. And that means that there are enough people in this country that feel this way that a man like Trump was able to get elected, that a man like Mitch is able to run the show in Congress. America as the land, it isn’t your fault. You would’ve been happy to never have been invaded, carved up, forced to be witness to slavery and war and watching your beautiful indigenous people die and be culturally erased (in many ways still today). You are beautiful, with your mountains and trees, your beaches and oceans, your rivers and streams. You are ugly, though, with your systemic oppression, kids in cages, Black people shot by police, housing segregation, gentrification, fatphobia, mass incarceration, capital consumerism, transphobia, misogyny, lack of mental health and addiction support, no healthcare for all, no equal right to education without stock piles of debt, and you always make a way for the wealthy and White, but you box out anyone Brown without extra expectations or attempted White washing. You pave ways and repave them, neglecting potholes and broken bridges for those that need, deserve, should have them more. You are the birthplace of internal wars, internalized sexism, colorism, homophobia, racism; you’ve made us hate ourselves as much as you hate us. America, I expected better with the version of you I read in textbooks. But then, that version of you was written by those whose roads were paved with gold, and they profit from its retelling. I don’t like you, America. I don’t know what hope there is for us, but I do know that I love my brothers, sisters, siblings of all genders, colors, and creeds who too want to unravel you, America, and build you back up into something better, something equitable, something for all of us. Maybe there’s hope for you, America. Maybe there’s hope in your (r)evolution. -Meg

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May 2, 2020

May 2, 2020 at 11:22 AM UTC

Dear America, I’m really disappointed in you. It’s a harsh way to start a letter, I know, but that’s truly how I feel. Our leadership (if you can call it that) has unveiled the deep rooted White supremacy and sexism that this country was founded upon. And that means that there are enough people in this country that feel this way that a man like Trump was able to get elected, that a man like Mitch is able to run the show in Congress. America as the land, it isn’t your fault. You would’ve been happy to never have been invaded, carved up, forced to be witness to slavery and war and watching your beautiful indigenous people die and be culturally erased (in many ways still today). You are beautiful, with your mountains and trees, your beaches and oceans, your rivers and streams. You are ugly, though, with your systemic oppression, kids in cages, Black people shot by police, housing segregation, gentrification, fatphobia, mass incarceration, capital consumerism, transphobia, misogyny, lack of mental health and addiction support, no healthcare for all, no equal right to education without stock piles of debt, and you always make a way for the wealthy and White, but you box out anyone Brown without extra expectations or attempted White washing. You pave ways and repave them, neglecting potholes and broken bridges for those that need, deserve, should have them more. You are the birthplace of internal wars, internalized sexism, colorism, homophobia, racism; you’ve made us hate ourselves as much as you hate us. America, I expected better with the version of you I read in textbooks. But then, that version of you was written by those whose roads were paved with gold, and they profit from its retelling. I don’t like you, America. I don’t know what hope there is for us, but I do know that I love my brothers, sisters, siblings of all genders, colors, and creeds who too want to unravel you, America, and build you back up into something better, something equitable, something for all of us. Maybe there’s hope for you, America. Maybe there’s hope in your (r)evolution. -Meg

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