"tutsi" poems - Hello Poetry

Human directives, veracities unverified Bellies belching with anger, murderers Udders dripping hate, foundling banters Hunters striking the hungered, unfortunate Glare sight to seek the truth, hold me lets sink Tear motions and debates of inequality My Dafur, the realm of the fur, demise All armed in Sudan, the arid, a battlefield Emergency alarms sirens from 2003 The indefinite complications and hunger A land of the displaced, starving nomads Hear me out in these non-dissolving conflicts Guantanamo bay detention a prison vicious A base for “war in terrorism”, reciprocal laws Inhumane human interrogations persists A breach, a revolt, the hunger riots devolve Force-feeding, torturous measures applied All undressed, humiliated, genitalia exposed A Rwanda slain in divide and rule Civil clashes, mashes, all trashed Swaying war rapes, tapes, the raves Machetes slashing necks and hands A lust of power, a genocide slaughter The Tutsi slewed and unsewn from a patch Autocratic regime boring divisions Territorial ethnic cleansing, a holocaust The oppression of Jews, Romanis, Poles Homosexuals, the disabled and mentally ill Indifference pooled in pits and camps The institutional social indoctrination The honor and killing to expose shame The violation and dishonor of moral fabric For what is “good”, “bad”, fixated moral values Buried waists and head, awaiting stones to hit Confessional secrets of only what lays within A torment watching witnesses, all dangling Marxists calls ships to stow ashore Masses kidnapped, confused in deceit Invalid contracts awaits signatures The white immigrants to be enslaved All aboard, now abroad to revolve labor Wage packages taken to pay for freedom Humans bought and sold to be owned Slaves yorked and counted as assets Bounded to serve plantations and homes A human, non human, a chattel, a slave A debt ******* offended and ***** Untamed and made to obey a master A falling global strings unturned Tunes strumming hate, war and pain Human trafficking, violence, inequality Child abuse, civil conflicts, capitalists Commercialism, zero hour contracts For if we have no rights, I have none For if we have no peace I have none

0

Jan 20, 2016

Jan 20, 2016 at 6:54 AM UTC

SassyJ

Cruel Inhumane Autocracies

Human directives, veracities unverified Bellies belching with anger, murderers Udders dripping hate, foundling banters Hunters striking the hungered, unfortunate Glare sight to seek the truth, hold me lets sink Tear motions and debates of inequality My Dafur, the realm of the fur, demise All armed in Sudan, the arid, a battlefield Emergency alarms sirens from 2003 The indefinite complications and hunger A land of the displaced, starving nomads Hear me out in these non-dissolving conflicts Guantanamo bay detention a prison vicious A base for “war in terrorism”, reciprocal laws Inhumane human interrogations persists A breach, a revolt, the hunger riots devolve Force-feeding, torturous measures applied All undressed, humiliated, genitalia exposed A Rwanda slain in divide and rule Civil clashes, mashes, all trashed Swaying war rapes, tapes, the raves Machetes slashing necks and hands A lust of power, a genocide slaughter The Tutsi slewed and unsewn from a patch Autocratic regime boring divisions Territorial ethnic cleansing, a holocaust The oppression of Jews, Romanis, Poles Homosexuals, the disabled and mentally ill Indifference pooled in pits and camps The institutional social indoctrination The honor and killing to expose shame The violation and dishonor of moral fabric For what is “good”, “bad”, fixated moral values Buried waists and head, awaiting stones to hit Confessional secrets of only what lays within A torment watching witnesses, all dangling Marxists calls ships to stow ashore Masses kidnapped, confused in deceit Invalid contracts awaits signatures The white immigrants to be enslaved All aboard, now abroad to revolve labor Wage packages taken to pay for freedom Humans bought and sold to be owned Slaves yorked and counted as assets Bounded to serve plantations and homes A human, non human, a chattel, a slave A debt ******* offended and ***** Untamed and made to obey a master A falling global strings unturned Tunes strumming hate, war and pain Human trafficking, violence, inequality Child abuse, civil conflicts, capitalists Commercialism, zero hour contracts For if we have no rights, I have none For if we have no peace I have none

55

April 5th 1994- Kurt Cobain dies April 6th 1994- The President of Rwanda Dies April 7th 1994- Kurt Cobain's body is found April 7th 1994- A genocide begins. Neighbors take arms against neighbors People he once shared a sandbox with now hold a machete to his neck Heads roll- literally Babies cry out to their mothers who lie there choking on their own blood Girls who 2 days ago were playing house with their dolls, now take care of their whole family Screams of pain from girls who's innocence is taken from the man who used to bounce them on his knee. Gathered in the place where God is supposed to be Hundreds are murdered ruthlessly. Guns not pointed at their heads But clubs that smash them in. Achilles' heels slashed These men drink and feast and sleep Over the screams of their victims Babies born 9 months after these men took something that was not theirs to take A physical representation of all that is evil and hatred and pain She tries to love them anyway But she sees him in them He has daddy's eye She has her fathers nose She sees them in the way he looks at her when he's hungry As if she is just there to quench that thirst with her body. The whole word is split in 2 Nobody is Rwandan anymore You are Hutu or Tutsi Short or tall Human or vermin. The dead among the living Sometimes I can't tell which is which Until I see it That sparkle of hope in that one man's eye Because the human spirit will never die. The father of his best friend tortured and murdered his mother on their front lawn. Orphaned and afraid, He cannot stop He cannot slow down He cannot give up Because ***** Kurt Cobain he has to tell the story of what really happened that day Rwanda April 7th 1994

0

Jul 13, 2014

Jul 13, 2014 at 2:45 PM UTC

adrianna-perez

April 7, 1994

April 5th 1994- Kurt Cobain dies April 6th 1994- The President of Rwanda Dies April 7th 1994- Kurt Cobain's body is found April 7th 1994- A genocide begins. Neighbors take arms against neighbors People he once shared a sandbox with now hold a machete to his neck Heads roll- literally Babies cry out to their mothers who lie there choking on their own blood Girls who 2 days ago were playing house with their dolls, now take care of their whole family Screams of pain from girls who's innocence is taken from the man who used to bounce them on his knee. Gathered in the place where God is supposed to be Hundreds are murdered ruthlessly. Guns not pointed at their heads But clubs that smash them in. Achilles' heels slashed These men drink and feast and sleep Over the screams of their victims Babies born 9 months after these men took something that was not theirs to take A physical representation of all that is evil and hatred and pain She tries to love them anyway But she sees him in them He has daddy's eye She has her fathers nose She sees them in the way he looks at her when he's hungry As if she is just there to quench that thirst with her body. The whole word is split in 2 Nobody is Rwandan anymore You are Hutu or Tutsi Short or tall Human or vermin. The dead among the living Sometimes I can't tell which is which Until I see it That sparkle of hope in that one man's eye Because the human spirit will never die. The father of his best friend tortured and murdered his mother on their front lawn. Orphaned and afraid, He cannot stop He cannot slow down He cannot give up Because ***** Kurt Cobain he has to tell the story of what really happened that day Rwanda April 7th 1994

46

Claude spreads the legs of his first girlfriend and Recognizes the in-between From his sister’s. She was seventeen and silent; He, six and sobbing, Pushing the bamboo deeper After The men who ate Dinner with his father The week before Told him to. They said he had to **** her; said He was a Tutsi, and limp, and finally, “Farther!” She was wet with blood and he with tears Crouched down in the grass. At twenty-one, Claude hovers above His first love With closed eyes and dry cheeks. She is wet, with want, and Whimpering. Not from A stick’s broken branches, Or twelve men Holding her knees apart “Showing a cockroach how it’s done,” One by one Ants crawling toward her blood. Claude hears her closed-lip whimpers, Says how much he’ll always love her, and Cannot come.

0

Jun 10, 2010

Jun 10, 2010 at 1:02 PM UTC

brynn-champney

Infinite Genocide

Claude spreads the legs of his first girlfriend and Recognizes the in-between From his sister’s. She was seventeen and silent; He, six and sobbing, Pushing the bamboo deeper After The men who ate Dinner with his father The week before Told him to. They said he had to **** her; said He was a Tutsi, and limp, and finally, “Farther!” She was wet with blood and he with tears Crouched down in the grass. At twenty-one, Claude hovers above His first love With closed eyes and dry cheeks. She is wet, with want, and Whimpering. Not from A stick’s broken branches, Or twelve men Holding her knees apart “Showing a cockroach how it’s done,” One by one Ants crawling toward her blood. Claude hears her closed-lip whimpers, Says how much he’ll always love her, and Cannot come.

32

Some days I wish I were an X-men and not just an ordinary mutant. Some days I wish I had Magician level magic like Bink, just enough to negate other's. But then I look around; The Irish and English don't have it. The Pakistanis and Indians don't have it. The Chinese and Taiwanese don't have it. The Hutu and Tutsi don't have it. The neighbors in Bab Tabbaneh and Jabal Mohsen, don't have it. Why should I have it? We’re all just a bunch of Muggles. Maybe it's a good thing I don't have superpowers. I look around and in fits of frustration, in bouts of rage, I might destroy all the Husnock. I'm kinda glad now my only mutations are thoughts. Thoughts that I put here, viral like - infective memes - hemorrhagic e-fever. Outbreak? Snow Crash? Virulency? Survival rate? Epicenter? Futile epidemiology because I know exactly what and where I am.

0

Jun 14, 2015

Jun 14, 2015 at 1:03 PM UTC

jojo-nguyen

X-men Bink

Some days I wish I were an X-men and not just an ordinary mutant. Some days I wish I had Magician level magic like Bink, just enough to negate other's. But then I look around; The Irish and English don't have it. The Pakistanis and Indians don't have it. The Chinese and Taiwanese don't have it. The Hutu and Tutsi don't have it. The neighbors in Bab Tabbaneh and Jabal Mohsen, don't have it. Why should I have it? We’re all just a bunch of Muggles. Maybe it's a good thing I don't have superpowers. I look around and in fits of frustration, in bouts of rage, I might destroy all the Husnock. I'm kinda glad now my only mutations are thoughts. Thoughts that I put here, viral like - infective memes - hemorrhagic e-fever. Outbreak? Snow Crash? Virulency? Survival rate? Epicenter? Futile epidemiology because I know exactly what and where I am.

23

) ) ) ) () () / <> \\\ REAL ? • what ? Nothin I see •• If you won't stand up and fight at least have the decency to shut up •• If you won't shut up At least have the decency to talk to yourself In a padded room somewhere •• HONESTY •• Little Tutsi goodboob is all the rage Lets somebody touch her **** And calls herself -- free • Days and days and more misery •• Unwanted children --- My god ! -- Who the **** are we ? •• REAL ? Yes ! But Only in the essence of our suffering

0

Jun 18, 2014

Jun 18, 2014 at 10:33 PM UTC

jeffrey-robin

Operation brain-wash

) ) ) ) () () / <> \\\ REAL ? • what ? Nothin I see •• If you won't stand up and fight at least have the decency to shut up •• If you won't shut up At least have the decency to talk to yourself In a padded room somewhere •• HONESTY •• Little Tutsi goodboob is all the rage Lets somebody touch her **** And calls herself -- free • Days and days and more misery •• Unwanted children --- My god ! -- Who the **** are we ? •• REAL ? Yes ! But Only in the essence of our suffering

38

My African Dream Alive in the day. This nightmare is real Where no children play. Me a young women A Tutsi my clan. Survive and keep learning Is all I can plan. Dead fall in front Dead fall behind Fear is about me No safety to find. Machete, machine gun

0

Mar 14, 2017

Mar 14, 2017 at 5:19 AM UTC

gerard-featherstone

I RUN WITH THE BOOK:

My African Dream Alive in the day. This nightmare is real Where no children play. Me a young women A Tutsi my clan. Survive and keep learning Is all I can plan. Dead fall in front Dead fall behind Fear is about me No safety to find. Machete, machine gun

13