"universities" poems
Enrique,
Emilio,
Lorenzo,
the three of them frozen:
Enrique by the world of beds;
Emilio by the world of eyes and wounded hands;
Lorenzo by the world of roofless universities.
Lorenzo,
Emilio,
Enrique,
the three of them burned:
Lorenzo by the world of leaves and billiard *****
Emilio by the world of blood and white pins;
Enrique by the world of the dead and abandoned newspapers.
Lorenzo,
Emilio,
Enrique,
the three of them buried:
Lorenzo in one of Flora's *******
Emilio in the dead gin forgotten in the glass;
Enrique in the ant, the sea, and the empty eyes of birds.
Lorenzo,
Emilio,
Enrique,
the three in my hands were
three Chinese mountains,
three shadows of a horse,
three landscapes of snow and a cabin of white lilies
by the pigeon coops where the moon lies flat under the rooster.
One
and one
and one,
the three of them mummified,
with the flies of winter,
with the inkwells the dog ****** and the thistle despises,
with the breeze that freezes theh eart of all the mothers,
by the white ruins of Jupiter where drunks snack on death.
Three
and two
and one,
I saw them disappear, crying and singing
into a hen's egg,
into the night that showed its skeleton of tobacco,
into my sorrow full of faces and piercing bone splinters of moon,
into my happiness of whips and notched wheels,
into my breast troubled by pigeons,
into my deserted death with one mistaken wanderer.
I had killed the fifth moon
and the fans and the applause drank water from the fountains.
Hidden away, the warm milk of newborn girls,
shook the roses with a long white sorrow.
Enrique,
Emilio,
Lorenzo,
Diana is hard,
but somtimes she has ******* of clouds.
The white stone can beat in the blood of a deer
and the deer can dream through the eyes of a horse.
When the pure forms sank
under the cri cri of daisies
I understood they had murdered me.
They searched the cafés and the graveyards and churches,
they opened the wine casks and wardrobes,
they destroyed three skeletons to pull out their gold teeth.
Still they couldn't fine me.
They couldn't?
No. They couldn't.
But they learned the sixth moon fled against the torrent,
and the sea remembered, suddenly,
the names of all her drowned.
20.5k
Life is a lifelong
Balancing act
Time that's wasted
Never comes back
But hear my quandary
It's really quite queer
What happens when my job
Conflicts with my career?
What happens when my schooling
Disrupts my education?
When federal government policies
Keep me from graduation?
What happens when my GPA
Keeps me out of universities?
What happens when what I need to do
Conflicts with my responsibilities?
Jun 3, 2014
Jun 3, 2014 at 5:27 PM UTC
My essay, Changency, is a meme
This meme has been growing inside of me
I've been a carrier
Many of us have been
I'm not a benevolent character though
I've been purposely placing the memetic material on blankets
And leaving the blankets in local trading posts
I call these 'trading posts' bookstores, universities, colleges, schools...coffee shops, pubs, restaurants, etcetera
The beautiful thing is that these memes aren't really on blankets
The memes are encoded on the backs of knowledge, truth, and authenticity
They come from a place of pain
Evolution can be painful (but does it have to be?)
Three dimensions are easy to comprehend
Four, sure just add time
What about spacetime?
And a fifth dimension...I don't really know what that means...but some do and they're watching, listening, waiting, and loving us
Dec 2, 2014
Dec 2, 2014 at 9:52 PM UTC
the dutch colony ascended on our shores
replacing traditional african education on culture
with teaching slaves how to pray
we saw the deterioration of black schools
and state-mandated segregated curricula
whites being taught better than blacks
who was only destined for subservient jobs
policies of apartheid birthed the bantu education
and later forced us to learn languages
which was not our native tongue
the youth could no longer be silenced
soweto uprising saw them dying for the cause
we have protested throughout the decades
silenced by the apartheid government
simply ignored
with Mandela’s release we saw liberation, freedom, democracy
and a single education system, we were finally equal
however the legacy of black inferior education left a deep scar
which has still not healed
our parents not able to give us the education they were denied
now students are holding the government accountable
who promised free education for a vote
the movement trending as #feesmustfall
anger expressed by burning premises, striking and rioting
i believe in the cause but who are you really hurting?
why destroy the very universities that you are fighting for?
Oct 27, 2016
Oct 27, 2016 at 5:17 PM UTC
Before guns wore make-up,
We used to put pennies in our socks
So we’d always walk on the root of all evil.
Now Wall Street angels frolic through satellite clouds borrowed
from youths educated by universities of smoke and plastic bags.
(The tears of a child are homage to the waning gods)
For in a day not far away,
Over the painted moon of the Morning Son,
The sun will rise wearing the finest war scars money can buy.
And the screams of humanity will be heard from Venus,
Forgetting that the reciprocal of L-I-V-E itself is E-V-I-L
And perhaps death is the life meant to be lived.
Jan 9, 2013
Jan 9, 2013 at 6:01 PM UTC
I don't know what you could call this exactly,
I was at a musical concert in one of the states
And a school filled with children of less than 13 years of age
Presented a song which I could call a petition.
They were praying earnestly for God to save Nigeria
From lawless people, bloodshed, assassination and a list of other wreckless things
It touched me that finally, it has gotten to this! When children start to file a petition to God against our leaders saying for their sake God should save the nation
It's a bit disturbing that even the kids know that there is a problem with this nation.
Do we have to ridicule ourselves forever? The children who were in the ***** and groins some years back have come to understand the situation and are crying out.
The educational standard is falling to pieces and the threads would have to be carefully woven together if we wanna make something out of it again.
It's embarrassing to know that there are so many sectors that has failed, absolutely nothing is working.
Our leaders still apportion blame. Roads are not good and then you get to hear one is a federal road one is state owned. Does it matter who owns the road if it is in their country?
Why aren't everyone looking beyond their noses and see what's wrong. Our youths have resolved to fraud when hard work and talents aren't appreciated.
Universities have been shut down for months now in the name of strike and the government officials could afford to eat and carry on their daily activities!
Aren't they meant to be in the hospital, complaining of one illness or the other as a result of the unrest the matter has caused? Disheartening! Even the hospitals go on strike and innocent people are left to die as a result of no medical attention.
I was moved to tears when these children sang. The nation's unrest and matters have become prayer points in all places of worship. God should indeed look down from His throne, have mercy on us and save Nigeria!
Oct 26, 2013
Oct 26, 2013 at 9:28 AM UTC
My Sunglasses
I’ve got all of Tucson trapped behind my sunglasses
I’ve framed mountain ranges in the frames of my Raybands
I’ve got reflections of saguaro’s stranding still in front of my eyes
I have sunny days taking refuge underneath my shades
I’ve domesticated the giant star that rides blues skies into walking the edge of my brow
I use black plastic as onyx shields
So Tucson, I see you.
There’s an art revolution beating at your horizon
I’ve seen it skirting around these wastelands
They tell us we’re wasting our time
Telling the roadrunner to run back home
When its nest was here since the beginning of time
Tucson.
I’ve seen folklorico and mariachi pay tribute to your origins on the hottest of days
I’ve seen in the shadows in underground art forms
Graffetti. There’s a protest in there somewhere.
I’ve even witnessed it in pen to paper
In lips to mics. In cafés in your desert nights for your desert nighttime audiences.
Tucson, your culture and artistic value shines too bright for others to see.
Your artistic worth shines too bright for others to broadcast
They tend to only record your overdoses and murders
Seems like our televised story tellers prefer to paint us in immoral reds
The only time they pay the south side attention is when the south side is aching
It doesn’t help that schools force you to choose business
Give you chance to study law all the while cut out your art programs
Fine art is required by universities but they don’t always expect you to get that far.
Tucson’s fine art is too fine and infinite to be recognized by those undeserving
Society wants to capture our southern brethren as outlaws not poets
We’re called the misfit of the desert. As if every spray can, paint stroke, choreographed twist,
Slam poem wasn’t something to take pride in.
I’m sorry they only pay your schools attention when ambulances are parked in your driveways
And administrators get caught in doing ***** deeds.
I see your talent wasted. Your talent shown.
To remind myself of your artistic significance, I’ve framed you
On walks home I photograph your murals.
Listen to the poets in the hallways.
Observe the dancers compose and the musicians choreograph
I’ve caught your reflection in my corneas’.
I’ve dilated my pupils thoughts behind my sunglasses.
Framed your mountain ranges in my frames.
Took cover in your shades.
Trained the artistic freedom and right to walk on my brow
Tucson
I see you.
Nov 27, 2012
Nov 27, 2012 at 3:58 PM UTC
Universe
The stars and the moon to see,
Blind people smiling for free.
Horizons of orange and red in my mind,
Universe fair and kind.
The real world that universe show,
Seeds to plant and grow.
Sand of the desert and water of the sea,
Lovely scenery, lovely scenery…
The nature in cycle rotation,
Universe as one nation.
The precision of time and your wish,
Sun set and the beach.
Men’s looking for priorities,
Students at universities.
Universe lost and unknown,
Crying all alone.
Warmest regards.
Victor Marques
Nov 24, 2010
Nov 24, 2010 at 3:29 AM UTC
we learn to speak,
we learn to write,
we learn to count,
that's education.
but everything changes in high school,
education is slowly losing it's true meaning,
we compete for high marks,
we compete for good grades,
just to overcome the fear of getting into 'bad' colleges and universities.
we learn something without knowing the purpose,
we memorize facts without understanding,
that's education of modern world.
it had made it such that,
people are judged on their level of education,
Diploma, Degree, Masters, PhD,
important certificates just to get recognition from the society.
so think about it,
are we really educated or are we just a person,
who everyone calls 'nerd'.
Aug 31, 2014
Aug 31, 2014 at 6:30 AM UTC
You told me once that I am your favorite writer.
I was hesitant and unsure. Your innocence might jinx me this time. Then you laughed, as you always do, like a child giggling while waiting the rain from the summer sky. Everything becomes clear. After all, whatever comes from you is never you.
Of course, you are as always an empty being.
Your emptiness tells many stories. Your emptiness fools me. Your emptiness is the real vessel of soul. Your emptiness is a parchment for budding thoughts. Your emptiness is a magic.
No wonder, I fell in love with that emptiness. I just do not know if emptiness loves me back.
Or, was it me who stares at the abyss long enough that a centenary gone by.
1900: The Boxer rebellion begun. Freud published his Interpretation of Dreams.
1903: The Wright brothers marked their first flight. In turn, Curtiss decided to invade the sky.
1912: Titanic anchored to Atlantis, to its final resting place.
Two years after, the first World War broke out. Horses galloped to the killing fields.
1925: The first among many trials of the century began. That day, Darwin risen for the second time.
1934: ****** became Fuhrer. The world becomes a theater. “Absurd,” says Beckett. “Cruelty” for Artaud.
1939; 1941: Second World War broke out; Pear Harbor bombed. Asia Pacific meets its infernal fate.
1945: Three mushroom clouds seen: New Mexico, Hiroshima, and Nagazaki.
1960’s: Humanity becomes obsessed with multiple wars: cold, space, nuclear, music, universities; not counting the mutants who played major roles in between.
1986: Itay wrote a letter to Inay. The letter reached Manila after a few days from Jeddah.
1989: Capitalism won. Berlin wall fell like a paper plane after its victorious flight. My parents met for the first time. Months later, they decided to cut the cake and get married.
1993: The World Wide Web saw its day. I was born.
Twenty two years later, I met her. A year after, Phil Collins sang once again Separate lives.
That time, I know, I will never be your favorite writer.
Dec 26, 2016
Dec 26, 2016 at 6:34 PM UTC
Historical-ly,
Black Colleges
Have been chronically
underfunded,
unacknowledged,
Hell -
Unappreciated.
Black culture curates
Common culture.
Black coins buy
Booming business -
Black universities
Breed
Brilliance, Undeniably.
Understand
Black children
Contain unrelenting
Capacity,
Cause upheaval -
Controlled, creative
Chaos;
Coerce
Change.
History
Continues.
Heads held high -
Commemorating heroes.
Celebrating
Hope-
Bravery-
Coexistence-
Unity-
Hope-
Bravery-
Coexistence-
Unity-
Healing-Balanced-Charismatic-Unequivocal-ly
Colorful
Blackness.
Dec 23, 2022
Dec 23, 2022 at 9:01 AM UTC
It’s funny how
The universities are still in business
Of producing graduates
That speak funny English
And hardly make invention
And the stock market falls
Down street tumbles
That lets people buy
And make profit
Like grandpa used to say,
True intellectualism died
In the year 1929
With the rise in acumen inflation
It was then that
This Federal Reserve of Ignorance
The true villain of this quandary
Traces its genesis
Hope that explains succinct
This universal impotence
Jun 18, 2012
Jun 18, 2012 at 9:17 AM UTC
Flag of my fathers
When will the winds of equality
lift you from your languid prison?
When will your 12,000,000
immigrants get a fair shake
beneath your furled stars?
Flag of my fathers
When will you be worthy
of your returning veterans?
I'm tired of them washing
my windows for spare change
beneath the overpass
Flag of my fathers
When will your gays and lesbians
be more than fodder for bible
thumping patriots?
I was a bible thumping patriot
once but I never hated the gays
I'm tired and broke Flag of my fathers
The bank wants my house
and the Chinaman wants my job
He's welcome to it if he can get
the Indian to give it up
The doctor wants my money
but it's all been squandered
on promises and broken dreams
I call for equality Flag of my fathers
and they call me a communist
I'm not a communist but if communists
believe in equality, was Jefferson
a communist?
Flag of my fathers
They tell me to leave if I don't like
the way things are but where will I go?
Mexico's crowded and Canada's cold
The righties tell me 'get a job'
but the jobies say 'get an education'
The Universities hand me a bill
and when I can't pay
they tell me 'get a job'
It's all ****** up Flag of my fathers
and doesn't make any sense
I've got a headache, leave me
alone
I'm so tired
Watching shadows crawl across
the walls is dull even for a slow
witted fool like me
Flag of my fathers
Why are we at war?
Why are we closing our museums
and demolishing our libraries?
Why are we feeding our military
and starving our vets?
It's too much to take
Flag of my fathers
It's too **** much to take...
Jan 23, 2013
Jan 23, 2013 at 10:53 AM UTC
Tomorrow marks the beginning of the end
Of the final two years.
What was said to be the easy part.
You all tell me not to worry so much,
But I still do.
What if I don’t do enough?
What if I make some monumental mistake?
Some epic failure never to be forgiven.
You tell me not to fear the failure,
But it feels as though that is all the universities
And my future bosses will be able to see.
Each a mark against me
In this over competitive world.
But shouldn’t the bosses and the Universities
See the growth from the failure
And not the failure itself?
To me, that makes more sense.
I would much rather work with someone
Who took a risk, failed and overcame it.
Than someone who didn’t even try
And got it right the first time around.
So, maybe you are right.
Maybe I can’t sweat the small stuff.
Maybe things will just fall into place.
But maybe they won’t.
Maybe I’ll fail.
Jul 24, 2010
Jul 24, 2010 at 9:05 PM UTC
Tribes matter more than research,
jobs dished on ethnic network,
as academics are left to die
at the thrones of sadism
and selfish megalomania,
proffessors more illiterate
as reading culture succumbed to death,
to pave way for money culture,
harvested from parallel programmes,
that takes the beautiful
and the academically incompetent,
to the university at mercy of their wallets,
where the proffessors renew their sinews,
on the french chicken by parralleley style
on the tops of the female parallel students,
as they inspire them with new culture,
of laziness,twiterature and cyborature,
face-booking for unique *** partners,
as books are left to be dust ridden
on the miserable shelves
of ramshackle libraries.
Aug 25, 2014
Aug 25, 2014 at 5:01 AM UTC
Avoid trouble.
Be willing to face the consequences for your mistakes.
Oh, punishment will come.
Bet on it.
Believe it.
We selected you for your talent and sports skills.
And more than anything wants you to achieve your diploma.
Yes, educating you is our main goal.
As young adults, realize you not in high schools.
And the rules and regulation is of a higher standards.
You must police yourself when faced with temptation.
Yes, common sense works when confronted with things you should avoid.
Parties, oh you will attend with select friends.
Than the smarts ones won't.
It's just not their purpose to act out cause they away from their parents.
****** matters, will be your stumbling block.
And more likely lead you down paths you regret.
Oh, by now you should have witnessed this evidence.
But parents should be your security check guards.
Call and confirm that you still policing them.
Forget what their friends think of your parental check?
These are your children's.
Coaches, can only guide so much.
Some kids get in colleges and begins to lose touch of their senses.
Get influence by fools and used by idiots.
So blame not the schools when your children's venture out and find trouble.
All universities hand out guidelines what expected of them?
May 1, 2016
May 1, 2016 at 8:04 PM UTC
This is how you write a poem;
First; forget everything
You ever learnt about poems,
Such knowledge should be reserved
For the minds of critics, and
Professors in dusty halls
Of universities, where
They are dissected and re-
Constructed against their will.
Second; embroil yourself in
Love; it is the only thing
That poetry is born from.
Even the saddest songs, and
Most bitter lines, are fueled
By what we once loved. Loss is
Just a love that has been lost
And anger; a love scorned. All
your words will be born this way.
Thirdly; find a quiet spot;
It doesn't matter much where
As long as it brings comfort,
Be it an old desk in a
Darkened room, or a field of
tall Sunflowers or bluebells,
Or the last place you saw a
Loved one, before fate swept them
Away to distant valleys.
Next you must make a promise to
Yourself to be brutally
Honest. Only the truth must
Be written here. There is no
Room for flowery words that
Must be thought over to much.
If it is true it will be
Beautiful, and your pen strokes
Will guide you towards greatness.
Finally, you must hold your
Writing implement of choice
As if it were the most loved
Of possesions, or mighty
Of weapons, or a child's hand.
I cannot tell you which
But you will undoubtedly
Know which when the time comes. It
Will strike you as obvious.
Upon following these steps
You will have become a
poet. From now on there
Is no turning back. It will
Consume you, and thoughts will take
You by surprise in lover's
Embraces, in sudden deaths,
Bird songs, and the words of of those
You once thought to be strangers.
Each word will be a gift to
The world, whilst remaining un-
doubtedly yours to own.
Use your power wisely.
Remember; without love
Your poems will start to
Fall into disrepair
And, without them you will
Lose your capacity to care.
I wish you well.
I wish you poetry.
I wish you love.
Apr 6, 2016
Apr 6, 2016 at 5:49 PM UTC
I don't wish for many things from others.
But I do wish the most from myself.
I wish I could play the guitar, the piano,
the ukulele, the violin, the cello; as many
instruments as I possibly can.
I wish I had amazing grades, like 90's
and 100's on all of my educational
classes; and that I had joined the PAP and
AP courses sooner in order to impress
colleges and universities.
I wish I was more slim than I am now,
and that I had attractive curves - not as
in oversized ******* but as in nice
curves on my stomach, legs and arms.
I wish I was pretty, as in big beautiful
and attractive eyes, soft and colored
(not pale) lips, clear skin free of acne
and ****** hair, long and luscious and
silky hair, soft skin, and a cute nose.
I wish I was a nice sister, one who
didn't ignore her siblings, who
interacted with them and got along
with them greatly.
I wish I was an amazing daughter and
family member, one who didn't argue
and wasn't distant from her parents, who
visited her family members frequently
and was sociable with them all.
I wish I had the best personality, one that
didn't ignore her friends and family, one
that always made people smile and laugh,
one that was sweet & nice to everyone,
one that was perfect.
I wish I was perfect.
Too bad they're all wishes.
Apr 10, 2015
Apr 10, 2015 at 4:41 PM UTC
While they spent a couple years in college learning calculus, I was emotionally imbalanced and so behaviorally challenged.
When I was on meds and learning music, they were learning differential equations, linear algebra, and real analysis.
When I changed majors to philosophy of religion, they were reading hundreds of math papers from journals in grad school.
When I was getting a master's in criminal justice, taking my first statistics course, they were working on their dissertation.
When I was getting an electronics degree, they were getting published and doing research at universities.
After that I started studying physics, then math.
I struggle still to finish basic Calc 2&3 problems, and find it hard to get help with linear algebra.
All I know is that my trajectory is anything but common.
And the way I cover material would not be taught in most schools and universities.
It is more like the Montessori schools: I have an innate path to psychological development, and I act freely, supposedly creating my optimal way.
Mar 12, 2021
Mar 12, 2021 at 5:10 PM UTC
I open the door for you
To be perceived as polite.
I don't brag because
Humility buys prestige.
I've earned virtue.
Why lie when instead I
Can wear the truth
As an honorary badge?
I donate portions of my wealth
To charitable organizations, so that
Everyone will deem me a great person.
I've earned virtue.
I obey all of the commandments
To receive God's unconditional love.
I observe each and every precept,
Climbing a ladder towards the sage's status.
I've earned virtue.
I serve the community to woo
Universities and potential employers.
I'm a law abiding citizen
Because I fear imprisonment.
I've earned virtue.
(c) 2014 Brandon Antonio Smith
Dec 12, 2014
Dec 12, 2014 at 2:34 PM UTC
What is Justice
What is justice
Does it have a color,
does it have a temperature
The blacker the shooter the louder the news
The tighter the noose
Equality seems to download slower
for those it doesn’t favor
Section 8 flats raise ghetto minded soldiers
Trained to live in prison cells
While leaving empty sits in classrooms
Mothers raising fathers
because their fathers left them,
now live in prisons,
physically, emotionally & mentally
That means when they have their kids they will probably leave them
What Is Justice
Generational curses bless the defenseless
Praising violence because slave masters
Programmed them to hate knowledge
Think less and work more labour after labour
While slave masters stole roots away from their family trees,
then told them to go figure out their identities,
Black Kings and Queens demoralized and carried in shackles, to rebel they now wear more ice than a cold fridge,
painted in movies as villains but have more knowledge than those that run universities, but stuck behind the walls of justice fighting all kinds of adversities,
like starting a race with no legs to run with,
stuck in one place, asking themselves what is justice
What is Justice
Is justice a word we chase in a world imprisoned by the thought of equality?
it doesn’t work if it doesn’t end in a tragedy, wearing hoodies, selling cigarettes, simply driving, could determine the end of you, living everyday under pressure like living through an interview, or facing the end of a loaded barrow,
Yelling please don’t shoot, while the one holding the gun comes to take your tomorrow, these black tears have cried till they have ran dry, social justice tried and still couldn’t change justice
now we challenge the notion of which life matters more, black or blue
This world got no clue
acting like history never took place, in a race of race, forgetting those who sacrificed for us to win the global race
how much more should the dark skinned give to get an ounce of freedom
What is justice
Is justice a word or a curse to the darker skinned, is justice determined based on one’s pigmentations, causing deeply rooted segregation, “all man are created equal” but we forgot about the sequel, in the end it tells us that we are not equal...
So... What is justice?
May 29, 2020
May 29, 2020 at 12:26 PM UTC
The Walk
I got red clay and grass on my feet today in the land of the Navaho it seemed I channeled one of their
Braves it seemed my eyes grew stronger the buttes and mesas the southwest had on familiar adoring that
flows with a fluidity in the driest land yet still the streaming it breaks free and flows down to the
Valley then it arrests the high distant peaks like your eyes become the bow shooting at the target straight
And true with speed it passes stationary objects it brings them to intensified life they are passed in a whirl
No longer are they so fixed as they were nothing now they enliven my heart it beats faster with the joy they
Possess magic it lies in depths of tree and scrub it appears as a wild and crazed painter of the caliber of
Van Gogh started at a certain point definitely he favored red as his base color then with differing shades
Of green he cloaked this thermal world it would be uniquely different a somber invitation to a feast at first
Glance seemingly a hard pronounced edge but a people with dark red to brown skin walked into this
World they put the finish to perfect with indigo as their primary color of dress what living moods now
Stand out against the red terrain singularly or as a tribe they clashed with this scenic land earth and sky
Had a joining place among a people that were formable there power they were educated not by
Scholarly universities but by rock streams trees and from creatures that learned to survive in a hostile
Environment it’s interesting to note that one of our most robust presidents an easterner when his wife
And mother died within days of one another Teddy Roosevelt chose the west as the place to seek
Healing for his devastated life the rest of his life is a pretty good testament to this place and it’s curative
Powers not bad for a rocky dry land thought by most to be worthless just an observation of one whom
Walked in the paths of a rich diverse and proud people I think my Cherokee grandmother would be
Proud she always talked about where we would go she took a detour and went to heaven instead in the
Meantime I will do the earth side adventures for the both of us
Nov 24, 2011
Nov 24, 2011 at 7:40 PM UTC