"untouchables" poems
We, the voice of the most oppressed,
Work in the profession remaining the most humble,
Throughout histories, as slaves our lives still remain tumble,
With our strangled necks, we are deliberately suppressed
For the centuries, our voices remain unheard,
Like a weeping fish at the sea,
We are treated zombies at the rush of a blood,
Collecting by hand, the human society’s poops & pea
Things for us got intensely worse,
We work as a group with an isolated curse,
For our livelihood, go into manholes as bare-bodies
Mostly get out as dead-bodies
From pathology to oncology,
We are treated untouchables, even by the modern technology
We are the oxygen-offering trees that remain green
Hurting ourselves, collecting excreta making this world neat &clean
With our hand-cuffs we shout and fight,
Rulers remain drunken-deafs to our plight,
Hell with your knowledge, to those who go to college
And keep pushing us to the drainage,
We remain living dead and frustrated, to get our right
When asked about work, we remain dumb and blind,
Fearing the responses to our ***** revelations,
Because humans are unemphathetic and unkind
To get our life some elevations.
Our mind said us “Please think! Please Think!”
When we revolt not to work, societies stink,
We warn, Witness your locality *****
To our sufferings, if you keep blank & empty.
We are a collective voice,
Representing inhuman humanity,
That keeps the society on a poise,
So raise your voice, with a clarity of choice
To get us work with the utmost dignity!
Sep 24, 2018
Sep 24, 2018 at 9:12 AM UTC
Sadness
Weapons of mass destruction
Witness protection program
Mutually assured destruction
Plausible deniability
Too big to fail
Pre-emptive strike
The final solution
Master race
Total Spectrum Dominance
Untouchables
Genocide
Greed
Racism
Sexism
Homophobia
Cancer
Hate
Hope
Blessed are the peacemakers
Do unto others as you would have them do unto you
Turn the other cheek
Judge not lest ye be judged
Let he who has not sinned cast the first stone
Sacrifice
Non-violence
Integration
Pacifism
Environmentalism
Empathy
Understanding
Tolerance
Equality
Cure
Love
Jan 10, 2015
Jan 10, 2015 at 6:37 PM UTC
Sunglasses stolen from Wingz in Duck, NC
a $15 thrift shop suit - just in case
the car is used
and the cashiers at the GoodWill down the street all know his face
bagged eyes
morning after hair
in need of a shower and a smile
He just bought a $200 laptop
now he masturbates in style
shoving Lenovo 2in1's and iPad's up their ***
please sir - may I have some more
status symbols symbolic of castes
and he hides among the untouchables
but this **** is loud
and I don't drink ***** unless P Diddy made it
Memento Mori
when we die -
we'll leave behind remnants of our false idol
Nov 26, 2013
Nov 26, 2013 at 12:28 AM UTC
His lips move but the monsters words of evil are heard
His mouth shapes "I love you" but hatred is echoed
He reaches for a hug but the beast lunges to attack
There's a monster on his back
He searches for the colors of day but is shut in a cave
He seeks for the limelight but is stuck in the shadows
He forces a smile but the hurt is pulling a frown
There's a monster that slipped inside
He searches for knowledge but the monster hid the books
He attempts navigation but the map is ripped to shreds
He wants to blossom but the beast chains him down
There's a monster deep within
He's found and yet he's lost
His happiness is hidden
He's full of life but wants it to end
There's a monster who's made a home
The monster has him on a leash
A never ending round of "simon says"
He's a puppet with claws up his shirt
A marionette with strings pulled tout
The monster disguises but unintentionally reveals
Brutality is uncovered but strength shines through
Controversy is displayed but persistence can be found
Anger takes over but intensity refuses to hide
The monster is battled with bravery
The monster is fought with passion
The tables turn
The untouchables are touched
After years of war the monster does not budge
He is frustrated and trapped but does not give up hope
He gathers an army to fight on and fight hard
There's a very persistent monster
The end can be touched it appears so near
The dispute however does not come to a close
The fight has no intention of ending
The monster does not wish to leave
The monster lives with an ignored eviction notice
The beast refuses to leave but agrees to downsize
From giant to large to small to smaller
The beast is tamed and not exiled
His strings are extended but never cut
His voice quiet but can be heard
His hugs are gentle but welcomed and received
He lives in peace as a landlord to a monster
Feb 22, 2015
Feb 22, 2015 at 7:01 PM UTC
Filling the insatiable void,
Dragging myself around.
Dealing with stuff,
Putting a face on the exigencies of work.
A friend is wonderful.
Mateos sits with me as we weep into the emptiness.
And there are so many ways.
Anecdotes to deal with the turmoil:
Words.
But the madness of a moment transcends the present into a hostile reality.
The truth
- of holding what we love.
But the heart speaks,
Hear it!
Or lose it.
And all our cunning is noise when we hear its call.
Everything is clear.
With or without?
Feelings, ugly ones such as envy, jealousy and doubt.
Have their moment.
And peak.
Alone,
We are untouchables.
How enraging to see the one you love,
Unstiching the patchwork that was our cover.
For in an instant,
We are undone.
Apr 29, 2019
Apr 29, 2019 at 3:28 PM UTC
these two hands, small, stubby,
nonetheless,
invite you to come aboard,
all, the unselected
all, the unprotected
the pretenders, outsiders,
hallway cool, self-collected,
girls who wear dresses,
boys who write in diaries,
Camus, Sartre hangers-on,
never-removed sunglasses wearers,
24/7
trip time,
comb your eyes,
system cleansing,
you, self-affected,
you, self-selected
you,
step away from the gallows,
get down from the scaffold
come to, for you, to get collected,
the unaffected,
the undirected,
road trip to the unexpected,
place where the disconnection is
disconnected,
where the unexpected, that's you,
expected
I know you well
I know you all
you are my desirables,
my touched untouchables,
wilderness voices,
no longer crying,
bound for greatness
from hands to pockets,
my chosen ones,
now my protected
No more unhappy birthday parties
that no one comes too
no need to pretend, sell love,
to the takers of advantage,
now on you breathe in an atmosphere
I've collected,
100% exhaled relief breaths,
purelled oxygen, fresh start air
no more disaffected,
now fuel injected,
now that you are
in and among the
touched, carried,
the affected,
the every poem read...
Feb 23, 2014
Feb 23, 2014 at 2:03 AM UTC
Leaders of the 'Free World':
Get jobs inflating hot air baloons
with all that hot air you love to blow,
Then perhaps you'd make an honest living
and your words would be useful
not just to you and yours, but to those you claim to seek to help.
WE ARE SERFS
WE ARE PEONS
WE ARE PAWNS
WE ARE STATISTICS
WE ARE UNITS TO BE EXTORTED
WE ARE UNITS OF PRODUCTION
WE ARE THE UNTOUCHABLES
Our right is to worship our system
Jan 23, 2013
Jan 23, 2013 at 12:33 PM UTC
We don’t want the good guy. I mean we do, we like the idea of him, but not actually him. We want the one who is going to rip our heart out and eat it in front of us.
We want to cry and hate ourselves. Hate our bodies for wanting him, our hearts for going back and our minds for rationalizing it all. We want him because at some point we were taught it was okay; either by our father, brother, uncle, the media, by peers or him.
We were called prudes, old maids and told to lower our standards and give in.
Who were we to think we’d find a man to treat us like that, like a queen? After all he was our king...And so we go along passing up the boring boys for the exciting men. We trade in the picket fence and 2 kids for sleepless nights wondering what it was that we did wrong. Why can’t he love us, the way we love him? But I’m a sucker for punishment and on to the next one.
Oct 20, 2012
Oct 20, 2012 at 8:53 PM UTC
Tax is a concept
By which you measure governance and each cent from each pocket
Tax is a concept
By which you measure a homeless man’s pain and the hard rain
Tax is a concept
That only adds up but sometimes doesn’t
Tax is a concept
A technique to intercept the poor man’s invasion
Tax is a concept
That funds a government servant’s evasion
Tax is a concept
That requires frequent revision for the privileged 1% division
Tax is a concept
For the rich to market their wealth as a sales pitch
Tax is a concept
That is open ended that helps lawyers find a niche and sometimes a gaping ditch
Tax is a concept
That helped the Untouchables put away that whiny *****
Tax is a concept
That takes the interest out of the spooks
I don’t believe in being rich
If I have to pay more I think that’s a glitch
I don’t believe leaving it all to the middle class
If I criticize it the government shows a lot more sass
Tax is a concept
If it wasn’t it wouldn’t be in books and in the salaries of prison cooks
Tax was a concept
That kept out of it the clergy mooks
Tax was a concept
That kept a nobleman’s coffers’ ostentatious good looks
Tax was a concept
That kept death at bay
Tax was a concept
That contributed to the dead everyday
Tax was still a concept
If it wasn’t then in Germany there wouldn’t have been any bread for each day
Tax is still a concept
It still pays the rich and takes from the rich *****
Who has the lawyer who is smarter than Tom Sawyer
I don’t believe in law and order
I just believe in world order and peace
Sep 13, 2017
Sep 13, 2017 at 5:39 PM UTC
A prison planet veiled by an electromagnetic net,
Inducing amnesia, erasing past lives, millennia of experiences and replaces the mind with robotic self destructing thoughts built to keep the slave system ever going
Encaging souls to never be free from this biological prison
Shells recycling through, now the idea of reincarnation finally is put into clear view
Born again to lie wait in the hellish purgatory asked to enter the light
The light is the trap
The light is what brings you back to the Earth, the dumping ground for untouchable souls.
For souls always slaving for eternity.
Then what is the way out,
The way out is where?
Where is that we belong?
Why are the questions too unreachable?
And when I float on,
Will I be erased again and placed back into the stream, the norm, the low class untouchables?
Is there no way to be truly free, to travel the universes without the fear of capture.
I am at ends looking for the start but where the start begins is something I truly do not understand
Dec 5, 2012
Dec 5, 2012 at 7:45 PM UTC
We are the thrones
Sitting squat in the gutter
Our bodies are charcoal
Our fingers are bone.
We are the colors
Washed out from the river
Through cobblestone curtains
The ravens have flown.
We are the maps
Of a civilized city
With sleek silver Saturns;
A chrome-cluttered rave.
We are the glances
Thrown sharp over shoulders
To plot shallow stumps
Of our moss-swallowed grave.
Apr 24, 2015
Apr 24, 2015 at 12:16 PM UTC
As juveniles, we are at a stage of being different.
For others, it's indifference.
It's the ripe years of teenagerdom that makes
a youthful adolescent old, but still not wise.
At this age, it's when you realize the things that *******
the very foundations of your childhood.
We have become a legion of sarcastic,
depressed, and misunderstood ********
We introduce each other by judging.
We talk in the form of rumors.
It's the era of headphones to drown the noise
and drugs to drown our thoughts.
It's stupid crushes, confusion
but mostly, it's hatred for highschool and people.
Misanthropy is not the reason for other's stupidity
,but through our own follies.
We are not untouchables because we are of a lower class,
but because our own class treats each other like taboos,
Heavily frowned upon in society.
Mar 7, 2014
Mar 7, 2014 at 1:14 AM UTC
They had the gall to throw me from the top.
Sending me crashing to the bottom of the heap.
An untouchable, they say.
How dare they call me such,
after all I have done for them?
The weight of the society,
left to the untouchables
to bear upon their shoulders.
They refuse to even help me from the ground.
The call me ***** worthless.
I am certain my hands are cleaner than theirs,
for the blood of the innocent does not ***** my hands.
I am certain that I am not worthless,
for I do the jobs that no one else will.
Yet they call me untouchable.
Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 8:23 PM UTC
Haters reaching out stretching hate to all they can put in a noose She's turning 80 and Love's Love and is willing to yield to the truth Regardless of a lifetime experience telling such and every authority, history book, politician, the clergy of clergy's lies their coverings rotting off thee untouchables of Love like Gold it's going to remain beyond ruse, deception and especially ones brain....... But what has made us great, and not for it's the USA, But for the inspired genius just beyond the First Amendment, in part, the part T. Jefferson coined as Separation of Church and State...is a minimal necessity if humanity is meant to survive itself. If we are seven billion thereabouts we have thereabouts the same amount of personal beliefs... PRAISE that or count that blessing or don't feel an inclination, there is no right or wrong...!!! To shove a belief system down someone's throat, being, brain, heart, civil liberties or have that your AS YOUR FEAR.... With your every BREATH, in your very BED, on a CARDBOARD BOX, a PENTHOUSE SUITE, any ole ALLEYWAY, in need to serve your ****** FUNCTIONS..... Speak your heart, with thoughts pressing through one's mind to ink, to type, to voice and FIND YOU, YOUR KIND HAS BEEN Found by some Predators who want you on a noose, your president, commander in chief..... They are ready on command for some false set of values that say **** and it is in the name of God and Love.... It is written, in some book that cannot be refuted or seen in any other way, yet it is seen 7 billion ways over at minimal by now... They will say it is in the name and claims of 'our founding fathers' '-------------------such 'n such falsely claimed values'. But those who won't tell you what it is about and for thousands, hundreds or so many decades of years. But in the name of , '------------' what does it matter it's exactly the way it's been done just before and the time before that and as far as history records and does not, and none tells any part of any truth to anyone about next to anything. Count we are blessed or not or were and need to be again and it's this thing or that. So easy to swallow the intended deceptions about the Frankenstein no doubt so many will not deny was an effort of intentional making, perhaps with a result beyond hopes and or expectations. Hope that we would swallow hook line and sinker!! The monster is on the loose America, it's not about you or me or even our sons and daughters but the descendants of humankind.... Beyond, Hook, Line and Sinker America, World, Who Knows, When Beyond All That We Swallowed THE WHOLE FISHING BOAT!!!
Mar 29, 2016
Mar 29, 2016 at 3:07 PM UTC
To ride on top of the train,
not inside
To eat only bread and salt,
not speeches
To live as only the poor would,
not talk
To be threatened by differences,
not welcomed
To humble yourself before man,
not above
To turn your heart to peace,
not hate
To see yourself as light
not flesh
To walk equally with all men,
not apart
To pray for wisdom in life,
not advantage
To pray for peace of mind,
not cunning
To pray for love of life,
not self
To pray for humanity,
not glory
Mar 28, 2015
Mar 28, 2015 at 3:30 PM UTC
Seldom, that our society releases
Cares to evoke the trauma
Agony and pain, the members undergo
Dignity of their innate feelings remains unnoticed
ridicules and abuses of the sidelined community
Treated as untouchables,
Life passes through humiliation
Revenge what at all grows
Hardly they love
With their battered minds
Hair growth is prominent
a feminine male
Claps not at all appreciates
Voice that hoars
differ from the stereotype
Pronounced as 'Hizra'
Hopeless with their genital
Infertile is what left behind
***** is sore
struggle for survival
Habituated with the wilderness
Embraced the culture
Deviated their thoughts
Fear is what all pays
Takes the trick
Makes a move
Snatches a penny in a forcible manner
Sympathy could be shown
moral failure lies in the society's unwillingness
a mindset which
we have to change.
©Gourab Mukherjee'
Aug 8, 2016
Aug 8, 2016 at 12:49 PM UTC
You collapsed―
on the stairs in frenzy
falling into a debt trap.
The moon was asking back his pain.
This was a naked aggression.
Kitchen was not ready for roots
and flowers and footprints
of staggering price of being alive.
Riding in a Humvee, the
rhetoric fails. The lies become
spiteful. Your arms holding
a wavering testament.
Religion of sending
a young legate of death, to veiled
untouchables, to spread
the glitter of bones and red meat.
A gift of asking to become
blind, nothing less.
Jan 24, 2017
Jan 24, 2017 at 11:41 PM UTC
Must we lust?
Can we stop
this deadly sin within
from showing on our skin?
What are we even lusting after?
Daughters and sons
and the untouchables.
They say lust
is the root of suffering,
devalues love, devalues you
to nothing more than
merely a lust of the blood
and a permission of the will.
They are right, of course.
But O to be lost in delight, even for just one night.
Then - when we've quenched this lust
- then what?
Move on the next thing that takes our fancy?
or move on with our lives?
what's the point?
We're already guaranteed our own special circle.
Must we lust?
these things we lust
do rust and turn to dust
only to blow away
at just the smallest of gust.
Causing more suffering.
Yet, we lust on.
We trust in lust.
We must lust,
even if it kills us.
Dec 1, 2014
Dec 1, 2014 at 6:38 PM UTC
So Corbyn has promised the Earth
And Labourites can't see the mirth
Diane Abbott's sums
Will Make us all bums
With no homes and negative worth
JC will fix our NHS
Sort out the Conservative mess
Millions more Docs and nurses
From his magical purses
Where the money's from's anyone's guess
Countless new cops on the beat
Is Corbyn's inspiring new bleat
But his short working week
Turns the scene rather bleak
With less police hours on the street
"For the Many" you hear Corbyn say
But if Jeremy gets his own way
He'll jump through the hoops
For terrorist groups
Like our good friends the old IRA
Corbyn stands by unchecked immigration
To diversify our entire nation
Don't shed a tear
As our new friends land here
Viewing our jobs with anticipation
Renationalise everything now
The TUC love a good row
Production will dive
As untouchables skive
Thanks to Labour's trades union cash cow
Labour's 70s weren't all that bad
Even though they made millions sad
Corbyn will take us back
But you won't get the sack
For the unions, we all should be glad
Tax big companies ever so hard
Is Jeremy's vote-winning card
Then look on in glee
As these companies flee
And your job moves to some foreign yard
Democracy thrives in the Left
The way Corbyn works is so deft
We'll have vote after vote
Till the miserable goat
Gets results that won't leave him bereft
My conclusions may seem rather gory
It's Labour's ridiculous story
The only way free
Anyone sane can see
Is to cross the box next to the Tory
Nov 22, 2019
Nov 22, 2019 at 12:39 PM UTC
It's controversial
Making the choice
Being strong through the pain
Or giving in to the urge
Wondering the impact
Wondering the deed
For this world is the
Mother of shadows
Mother of darkness
It spawns all evil and wrong
Wrongs we commit to another
And by opposing the
Mother of warmth
Mother of light
It spawns all that is good
Good we pass to another
Shall the future differ
If my life is no more
Shall the world differ
If my life was no more
Or shall my grave be deep and black,
Haunted by my unredeemed wrongs.
Or shall be grave be a place of yellow,
Met with my successes and achievements.
A part of myself;
buried deep into my thoughts;
Wonders if i have achieved,
If I have contributed to this dark world.
I am fading; I can feel myself aging,
Beyond crevices and grey, and the
Slow breath. Pockets filled with the stones
Of my wrongs; head filled with the
Reminders of failure, inadequacy.
It never rests, the darkest death;
And draws nearer. Firm and dark claws,
Clasping my thoughts in
The untouchables. Intents bolder, intents
Becoming darker; intents clearer.
Sep 18, 2017
Sep 18, 2017 at 2:54 PM UTC
*Strange as the dreams we set, forget, the seeds are laid in our forgiveness, fullness.
Help us reach the untouchables,
Forgettable, label us the monsters of consciousness.
Move on from hurts. Blurts of what set us aside,
It’s in the mind, take my emotions on a ride.
Erased are words you claimed completed my world.
Felt like your number one girl.
All is forgotten, you left marks unknown to my being.
I roam knowing, I was worthy of meeting my possible Life King.
It was amazing, emotions you raised that falling, deeper in your aura of un-felt loving.
All that’s left is to say Thank-you.
I’m cemented, firmly in your grounds so new. I felt you.
Saw you as my partner in love.
It’s kept me awake, it wasn’t fake.
Left and gone…I’m grateful I knew you and went through all I did with you.*
Aug 14, 2014
Aug 14, 2014 at 10:49 AM UTC
As he wandered
through town
musing
on the passing view
Johnny saw some dame
dressed in a burka
with her kids
& her two peering
brown eyes
through slit
of black cloth
& wondered if
it concealed or
conjured up
her sexuality in
an imagined way
like the nun he met
some years back
who served him
cake & tea
at some Catholic meet
her face framed
by white & black cloth
her body hidden
from sight of eye
but imagined from
what he saw
of shape & size
of figured frame
some secret sexuality
concealed as much
as much revealed
& mused that
what is deemed
forbidden fruit
& thereby
untouchable
may well be desired
to kiss & be huggable.
Aug 2, 2015
Aug 2, 2015 at 1:53 AM UTC
The centric force subjugates all things digitally
a belief transmits with impunity unspoken
transmuted into faith nothing impossible
reproduction splintered into pixels
**** into poetry
poetry into ****
we stumble from satisfaction to satisfaction
communicate in digits
connected by dots and dashes
transmit ideas through light
controlled by digits
until at last shaped in the world of
electronic precision
we fuse into the new religion
god replaced by binaries
unholy alliances
that work well in the mechanism
of subterfuge faces reality dismembered
touch and sensory stimuli
burnished through copper cauldrons
undersea cables reaching each other
mind to mind untouchables, harijans of fancy
split second relationships
walk on into the wilderness
where your body frazzles in passwords false protections
numbers in a mechanical clock
that runs on nano seconds
vanish in the nothingness of unreality
we remember others
only for their photoshopped faces
and eyes of wondrous invitation
a blank soul beckoning
for rejuvenation, thirsting for real feelings
real places and real emotions
welcome to the new religion
digitheism.
escape the trap
return to wonder.
You are either one
or zilch. Take your pick.
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, a day ago
- See more at: http://allpoetry.com/poem/11695729-Digitheism-by-Marshall-Gass-noguest#sthash.FWLt61f5.dpuf
Oct 12, 2014
Oct 12, 2014 at 8:00 PM UTC
I feel ethereally insignificant...
in bliss...
:: You know the only reason we love is because we're afraid of ourselves, we're afraid of being alone.
:: You know I ******* hate these stupid "profound" comments you make when you're high.
:: What, ma-
:: You think you're so cool because you "shmoke dah ganjahh man"! cuz you can be "deep brahh"! **** you man.
:: Hahahaha Ahhhh Hahahaha
:: Hahaha haha! Yea brohhh I'm just messing with you, I totally know what you mean about being afraid of ourselves... That ***** crazy man, society's **** man, right now there's like no thrill in being alive anymore. I guess capitalism works when you always have a bit of ambition, or greed-
:: Well, when you take away materialistic desires, but you have wealth you're left in a position where theres no need for anything at all. Maybe even no need to exist; if you've already reached the top level of the game... well why are you even gonna' keep playing.
:: Maybe you can just be in bliss...
:: ...
Jul 14, 2015
Jul 14, 2015 at 1:15 AM UTC