"visibility" poems
They didn't know what Diversity was...
The kids, that is.
Since the kids didn't know it,
the teacher coined it as "“black” visibility".
She wasn't sure if she could make that call
so she nodded her head, looking for approval.
The interviewer asked in what direction did the teacher see Diversity
As if Diversity was a one-way street.
Let me just refresh your memory...
"“black” visibility"
As if decades of progress in the schools were undone,
The kids voted on Performances and Projects for “black” History Month.
How shocking!... Kids of every shape, size, ability and race studying a time in history...
Sounds racist to me.
They wanted a Gospel Choir that is clearly only for “black” students
Because I'm the student Director for the Fordham University's Rhythm of Praise Gospel Chior for the fourth year running...
Maybe I'm missing something...
MAYBE I'm “black”... Maybe if I close my eyes really tight...
Nope, I'm still “white”.
Olive brown perhaps?
Only in the summer.
Anyway, I digress like Sophia Patrilo from the Goldren Girls
Who was Italian by the way.
Just advertising for Diversity.
Let's debate about "Music Debates" for a moment.
Maybe you call it Debates because Hip Hop is debatable, and by the way only for “black” students.
When I could argue for days upon days
About how Reggaeton didn't come from Salsa
but I know **** well that Salsa came first.
The kids wanted to Stomp the Yard and battle it out.
I do believe rap battles take place around the world
And one of the best rappers I know is an English teacher in Harlem
Whose hair is redder than a leprechaun.
Talent Shows that showcase every student's ability
Whether it be singing, dancing, performing their poetry,
But still apparently that's not Diversity.
Neither is an International Day
Where International ways are celebrated.
And finally, a Diversity Day,
That clearly means diversity is separated.
"They wanted a lot of things"
Yeah. They asked for a whole lot... of everything BUT diversity.
That's right, because they don't know what it means
The Kids, that is...
Then tell me please:
Define Diversity.
Is it seeing a “black” horse with “white” stripes
Or a “white” horse with “black” stripes?
Why is it between “black” and “white”?
Why not between “white”, “black” brown, yellow, orange, brick red...
Let's get it out of our head
That teachers can't learn anything from their students,
Because it sounds to me,
Like they had a pretty good start to the meaning of Diversity.
And if it turns out they didn't,
That's what teachers are there for:
Make a **** lesson about it.
Sep 26, 2011
Sep 26, 2011 at 2:16 PM UTC
community.
it’s what i strive for.
community..
what there is now
is not what i fight for.
i never thought that visibility
would mean so much to us
that it would drive us away from
the cause we suffer to love.
we suffer to love
bc rewards dont mean a thing
not until our freedom is won
until all equality is achieved
you can throw me bouquets
chant my name and flair
but i pray to my siblings
they’d pull me out of there
distractions are temptations
to get lost in temporary pleasures
only to come back to reality after
i’ll start to forget the fading laughter
May 28, 2014
May 28, 2014 at 1:28 AM UTC
It begins with the ominous clouds that roil and billow over the sky.
Then they darken:
Soft whites...
Seductive greys...
All the way to the purple black that haunts the skies on the cusp of a winter night.
The smell that follows this sinister nebula of vapor hanging over your head is that of life bringing relief.
The smell of dry earth mingling with that of the fresh water above reminds one of summer breezes, freedom and relaxation.
The cool but warm drops of moisture start gently stroking your shoulders and arms.
The strength increases, forcing you to squint as you take in the beautiful composition of nature above.
Soon you're covering your head as the rain pelts down and you race for shelter.
The puddles appearing on the floor disrupted by the matter consistently falling into them.
You peer into the world, completely changed, as you visibility decreases and smile, the metallic twangs to the rain hitting the patio roof fill your ears and soul with its rhythm and music.
Oct 16, 2018
Oct 16, 2018 at 12:14 AM UTC
Today, in Bisexuality-"Pick a sided!"
Why should we? We have the right to-
"Shut up!"
BLOCKED
Today, in Bisexuality-"Men can't be Bisexual!"
Yes, they can be, and-
****
BLOCKED
Today, in Bisexuality- "Top 17 List of Gay Celebs!"
Bisexual Celebs have been listed as gay or lesbian. If you could, please-
"We said what we said!"
BLOCKED
Today, in Bisexuality- **** gay marriage! You, people, are gross!"
Then, avert your eyes. And, it's called same-sex marriage for a reason. I'm Bisexual and when you don't acknowledge that you erase-
**** you!"
BLOCKED
Today, in Bisexuality- "Y'all say Y'all like girls, but always marry men. It's so stupid!"
Did you ever stop to think it's because Queer women isolate and shun us? Did you ever stop to think most of us are fearful of coming out because we have to deal with Biphobia and always defending-
**** you *****
BLOCKED
Today, in Bisexuality- "Bisexuality isn't real!"
But, but, but, it's called LGBTQ because the B stands for-
"You are just confused and experimenting!"
But, I'm the B in LGBTQ and-
"Go **** yourself!"
BLOCKED
UNPLUG. RECHARGE. RESET.
I feel the cold. I'm forced in the void.
We don't have a voice. We are being destroyed.
Abused. Battered. Shunned. Lost.
You ignore our needs, and our lives are the cost.
No funding. No help. No representation.
We are the ******* children of a silent nation.
We ask for help and organizations wait for our week.
We aren't asking for much. It's Visibility we seek.
Using your voice is free. Make noise on your platform every day and night.
We aren't going away. For Visibility, we fight!
Dec 16, 2016
Dec 16, 2016 at 2:05 AM UTC
If I could mount that rock to my forehead,
the demons I'm fighting would finally go.
I know the risks of one last blow.
Visibility is prevented from me, by me, divided.
I choose sadness because it was all i ever felt.
This plateau of emotion will eventually
**** me-
Oct 10, 2018
Oct 10, 2018 at 7:15 PM UTC
I’m back again
On the early train
And the clocks have gone back
So, it’s light in the morning
I can faintly smell
The salt of the low tide
A flock of seagulls
Races alongside my train
A man with a high visibility jacket, purple hat and a coffee
Gets on
I wonder what his day will be like
It is Monday
The beginning of a week
That will be like no other
Feb 17, 2015
Feb 17, 2015 at 2:05 PM UTC
this is for the queer kids
who are taught their ABC's
but not their L's, G's, B's and T's
for the Russian government and the I.O.C
who deny Russian queers their visibility
to the people who call me ******
i wear your name-calling like a pink triangle
stitched to my sleeve
for the Harvey Milk's, the Christine Burns'
and every queer in between
to the allies who do more than say
"your sexuality is okay with me"
for the Jamaican trans* teen
who was murdered needlessly
to the television networks
who portray LGBT individuals positively
for the radical queers
the POC queers
the genderqueers
the queers who have felt excluded
this is for you
for us
this is a celebration
and an ultimatum
we are here
we are queer
& we will do more
than survive.
Aug 15, 2013
Aug 15, 2013 at 10:42 AM UTC
A shout out to the transgender people,
to the strong women and men,
may you see yourselves as self-made heroes.
A shout out to the non-binaries,
to the gender less,
the in between,
may you take pride in who you are.
Happy Trans Visibility Day.
Mar 31, 2017
Mar 31, 2017 at 10:27 AM UTC
The glory of the heavens which reflect such delicate blue,
Are alike a protective ceiling, keeping us safe from harm,
Where might this harm come from if above is empty space ?
Well, firstly it manages to brighten up the day more
Secondly it takes care of the sun's deadly rays, filtering,
purifying it in the most noble sense, a breathing sky.
The heavens far above are not without danger, but worry not,
for they are too far out of our reach, thus our eyes are the only,
fragile, valuable sense which is able to grap it's visibility,
Beyond this ceiling is where the stars inhabit, all of the planets too!
But the heaven is which gifts us the wonderful, stunning, warm,
bright colours of sunrise and sunset, thus alone is a reason to
love them furthermore.
In this wretched, corrupt and unrighteous world it is of great
importance to keep track of little things which cheer our way.
It could be a simple word, heaven or just the light of day.
~ Umi
Feb 5, 2018
Feb 5, 2018 at 4:43 AM UTC
The Sun shines on my computer
Creating a protective glare
But night comes like an intruder
At pictures I begin to stare
After I view their portrait online
I want to see their body on mine
We talk all night
Until I see the light
That they're not that bright
Or that they like to fight
Desperation swirls
I enter a world
Where the randomness of human interaction
Meets the randomness of my attraction
And the low visibility
Endears no civility
Will I spend infinity
In this digital city?
The creatures try to hide
They scatter in the distance
They're not hard to find
When their profiles leave imprints
But the parasites are quick
And the scavengers stick
Vultures fly from iPad to iPhone
Leeches try to make my pad their home
Devouring me until I'm bad to the bone
Like the solicitous predators
Who act like creditors
And the sly foxes
Who claim they're locksmiths
They all have claws and fangs
They're all just jaws with brains
I play possum
Until I've lost them
When monsters are made from loneliness
They try to trick me with phoniness
They feel I wouldn't want us to be together
And they're probably right
Because all I want is to spend forever
In love's divine light
Nocturnal animals just want the meal
Of my motion
They don't want to honestly feel
My devotion
In the wild
I am a child
The creatures cut deep
They make me weep
Until I choose to sleep
But when I avoid their glance
I avoid love's chance
Oct 17, 2017
Oct 17, 2017 at 4:39 AM UTC
When ink turns into fog
And you are on shaky ground
Impaired visibility
And clouded thoughts
Slowly engulfs your mind
You try to find your way
Through the unknown
No way to know
Whether you reached the precipice
Where your thoughts
Shall be history forever
Deep abyss waiting
For you to surrender
The pen you held till now
Scatter away the pages
They hold no meaning
Or, wait for the fog to clear
And walk towards the clear stream
Take a dip to rejuvenate
The soul and mind
Dec 25, 2014
Dec 25, 2014 at 1:01 AM UTC
On the night of initiation,
curves of pale luster began to gleam unwrinkled from the darkened divots along the lunar surface
A perspective unseen for so long, it was viewed as a defaulted “wink” on the face of the moon
And therefore, forgotten, unmentioned, until it’s means were sought
From days ‘fore, and long since now dust
Scribing authors, secrete beads of frenzy into ink filled phial
Sending tremors down, into the quill tip
Filling scrolls for permanence in a preemptive defense against continuous unraveling thoughts would befall
this fluency into incoherent clutter
Pioneers of preprint in a provoking tome,
would speak educated reasons why these areas of Moon had been locked under sealed dark punishment
since Empedocles mixed cosmic elements to breed an undeniable proving truth
Exhibiting the myth of danger
alongside
The established absolute and supervening fizzling sunset
proving the existence of love...
—————————————————-
“Since I have given you words from my within
like the ecliptic rising and burning massive,
Our mutual visibility of late is either one-sided
or
short lived
I’ll take a detour around the comforts of romance
And try to talk my way into your pants
By tossing at you, letters squeezed together,
for your minds transcription into the heart of my subliminal write
In hopes you’ll feel a trickling gush
If I get really lucky these words will find you like a volcano erupts a ****
The same way water, beating against years of stone can fall
And crash through a dam with pouring force so insatiable it’s territory is marked in history
Jun 22, 2019
Jun 22, 2019 at 11:09 PM UTC
I shook as I entered your doors
diabetic knees
I walked with caution
make myself unseen
with the utmost desire for visibility
hang off the ledge
bat my lashes
my love for her is unconditional
disappointment and triumph
I am a worm
let me burrow into your chest
and into the heart of the working nest
miss me and accept me
recognize me
be glad to see me
adrenaline, like caffeine
I giggle and beam with river-eyes
expecting intense reaction
you continued your solemn demeanor
but through satellites you kiss my cheek
after alone ventures
windy waits for velvet seats
emptiness absorbed excitement from minutes before
I thought I missed the market
but surely I’ve mistaken
Oct 21, 2012
Oct 21, 2012 at 4:22 PM UTC
I don't see myself on tv
I don't see myself in magazines
I don't see myself in books
I don't see myself in my community
They say I can't love her
They say I can't love him
They say I don't love them
They make jokes
They shun
Confused
Experimenting
Curious
Going through a phase
Trying it out
Not sure of what you want
You'll change your mind
You aren't inclusive
That's what they say to me
It's not true
None of it
Any of it
All of it
My truth
The truth
The only truth
The absolute truth
I can love her
I can love him
I can love them
It doesn't mean I like everyone I see
It means I'm just being me
Bisexual in the past
Bisexual today
Bisexual tomorrow
Bisexual forever
Stop erasing me
Jul 11, 2016
Jul 11, 2016 at 9:50 PM UTC
I know this place well
It is where I dwell
At times it can be forgotten
Ergo it is my shell
Reverberation fabricates strings and lines that demonstrate
Echos driven back to source with insanity to placate
Lessons are never learned within such solitude
Until a rupture occurs defeating meaningless platitudes
Fundamental discretion against complacent and ill-comforts
Do not take away visibility from the truth that sometimes hurts
Cracks emerge, illumination transcending
A surge, then an urge to crush this shell circumventing
I know this place well
It is where I dwell
In time I do remember
Ergo I leave my shell
Jan 29, 2013
Jan 29, 2013 at 5:12 PM UTC
I knew it wouldn't be easy but they never told me it'd be this hard
I trace layers upon layers of scars
Remembering each lesson carved into beautiful trademarks
I seek not revenge but rather to transcend
and at my wits end I find time to make peace with the screams
While watching the stream ever-changing shaping the banks of
caving earth
Dispersing tiny dismantled pieces into a deep ravine
A place unseen but the depths taunting
Muffled whispers and glimmers stir and discern all visibility
The waters reflected the chaos that plagued my reckoning
As I sat tossing stones watching the ripples fade and form
My small attempts to redirect the current seemed insurmountable
The rush and persistence of endless resistance surpassed my will
Swallowing my feet in mud and dismay
Beside the stream I'd forever stay
Oct 12, 2013
Oct 12, 2013 at 9:15 PM UTC
The Lung.
The broken bone branches hang heavy off knuckled tree. As cold and uninviting as wrapped meat in cellophane prison cells and those sweating milk bottles left on doorsteps. Women cry with the blackbirds as day breaks, rousing their reluctant nests.
As the shadows trawl in from chicken farms and slaughterhouses, across the squalid estates and past a debt collectors party. A ***** drinks his soot like coffee and waits for another years tide to retreat. Holding pith less ambitions and unmentionable qualifications, stewardess pass, uniformed thoughts and averting faces..
The rusty playgrounds sink into the fermenting wood chips, and a plastic bag runs through the scene; only to commit suicide in the oil ribbon canal. The chemical clouds thicken into a duvet of sky whilst arrows of a natural sun run home with tears of fear on their hot faces.
Down here the street lights flicker, and the patched uniforms drape off children sick with the flu that hit the school like a plague. Herding like cattle into the classrooms, to learn about the natural world
that is most unearthly to there reason.
Lunch bells ring from factories and the sky has drained to a sick -off white. The chip shop sells butties with no sauce nor bun, which machine like men guzzle and slurp.
The car parks lay stagnant in the distance and pigeons too fat to fly lay droppings on the bronze statue of a crying hero. As the roaring stops from the factories and high visibility coats are hung, the sky bruises and the men fill the pubs, until wives with children hung on washing lines drag there sweat soaked frames to the table, only to indulge them in a row.
Night creeps in, bringing with it the hooded figures that flutter along the streets. Music plays from a vacant building and seems to brighten the night.
A silhouette is seen standing on the edge, watching the busses bellow run like migrating snails, filled with the elderly and too young.
Cigarettes infest the streets creating a carpet of ash and litter. The city survives, remaining grey, never blinking, never heard.
Sep 20, 2012
Sep 20, 2012 at 6:20 AM UTC
The Nakedness of Execution
~for Balanchine~
the empty page possesses the perfect clarity of nothingness,
making it perfectly clear nothingness has no business here
come, execute,
clothe thy nakedness,
be a carpenter and build
a shelter for your cover
be a carpenter
construct the art that dresses thy body
yet, undresses the glowing glory spirited nakedness
we desire,
let us see the visibility of your naked invisibility
execute
unmasked unadulterated unasked unmodulated
pick the wood, select the tools, carve the words
on your forehead, Carpenter Cain
that we may copy them onto our eyes
ask then what can I make of my perfect clarity
and execute
disclose yourself, clothe ourselves
Dec 5, 2017
Dec 5, 2017 at 1:51 PM UTC
As I sat on that high ridge to take a rest
during a lull in the fighting.
I had a front seat on a bleak image
thousands were dead.
Huge mushroom clouds were rising
how I was alive surprising!
Another bright blast hit the valley
then another flash!
Down the hill with a mighty force
injured facing the angry sky
Shocked at what I had seen and heard
in the news no hint no word!
No warning of a nuclear strike
rumbles of descent heard.
Conflict was just every day news
nations wanting to be free.
Sinister groups each rebel state
certainly wouldn't hesitate.
Struggling to stand moving forward
visibility down to a few feet.
Dim lights appeared just ahead.
it was a vehicle from my unit.
Safely picked up returned to base
seeking news of the human race!
Finding out it had been limited
to only a few countries.
The world would suffer for this deed
the destruction of life.
Nothing could be the same again
an act pointless and insane!
Since the mushroom clouds first came
everybody felt they were to blame.
Every nation had no choice but to unite
no more determination to fight!
Survival can only be achieved by working together!
The Foureyed Poet
May 14, 2011
May 14, 2011 at 5:16 AM UTC
there are a few, those who should tidy,
those who pump and clear, those who
investigate.
water beetles float their legs, paddle
the river, dimpling surface. hang on
the bridge , warming back and watch.
water men wear high visibility, while
the beetle shines black.
lately we have cut the paths
and planted bluebells.
sbm.
May 1, 2015
May 1, 2015 at 1:09 AM UTC
I still remember that moment,
When you decided to call it an end,
The whole universe collapse,
The heartbeat inside me stops.
I still remember that day,
I hope your there and stay,
An escape from our reality,
In a place with zero visibility.
Aug 17, 2015
Aug 17, 2015 at 9:17 AM UTC
Upon waking yesterday morn, the temperature was 8 degrees;
cancellation of events and slippery icy roads, disliking winter!
T'was out driving and dealing with the limited visibility; freezing.
Wasn't fun maneuvering usually two lane streets; turned one.
I'm sitting here wide awake and staring at ice crystal windows,
went to bed last night, temperature was frigid sub zero; No joke!
The furnace had a busy night keeping this old drafty house warm.
My cute little budgie who "was" chirping, is now sleeping on perch.
Giving a memory of yesterday brief thought and still find it funny.
Went shopping after losing the debate of exiting a warm vehicle.
Over heard a conversation regarding me, based on the "assumed".
The two ladies(without a doubt) read what's posted on net sites.
Standing in the next aisle, ears slightly alert, hearing my full name.
Should I walk up to say, "hello!" or tell them to mind own business?
Found it amusing and a bit flattering, despite negative words used.
Did they see me enter the store or did they even care that I heard?
If I were indeed the "rumored" witch, I'd melt every inch of snow.
Why did these villagers "presume" I'm holder of necromancer's card?
Defective reasoning of me practicing "voodoo" and casting many spells.
A bit of food for thought; It's one-dimensional and illogical thinking.
Jan 7, 2014
Jan 7, 2014 at 3:53 AM UTC
This my our journey.
Ice...
Jutting miles towards the heavens.
Above the jet stream.
Higher than most airliners fly,
Up and beyond,
The pinnacle of our love,
Is the closet to the stars.
I am lured by its magnificence,
I am attracted by the challenge.
Even though there is a chance,
I wont survive.
Storm winds blow 100 miles per hour,
Pounding it's victims,
With triple digit wind chills,
And zero visibility.
Every climber dies a little.
Fighting a losing battle against cachexia,
Because above 18 000 feet,
Cuts never heal,
The body depletes,
The air is so dry,
A cough literally fractures a ribs.
Weathering such unfriendly conditions
Is...
The ultimate test.
There is a 99% chance,
That I'll fail the quest.
But I promise
I'll do,
My best.
Jun 18, 2014
Jun 18, 2014 at 11:52 AM UTC
precipitation's anticipation of change
diffused morning light
the mustiness of first rain
a misty visibility hiding distant hills
a graying of the cityscape
skyscrapers in clouds
construction's crane quieted
in the mix of old and new
a slow rush hour
washing the street's grime
a coolness to my eyes
a slight chill in my bones
Autumn colored leaves swaying with breeze
on half empty trees
slanted raindrops incessantly blustering
a beautiful day
where only seagulls dare to fly
eight peeping eyes with healing hands
too good to help her to the restroom
"I'll call a nurse"
they just poked in to take a peek
feel her leg's edema
and inform me of possibility's progress
a colonoscopy?
a transfusion?
time keeps asking for more time
morning meds
an IV
a blood draw
a blood test strip
another trip to the restroom
a kind older gentleman's help
he thought I was her father
it's raining hard again
gutters like rivers
storm drains splashing white water
more skyline has gone missing
umbrellas wrestling wind
raindrops rilling down a picture window
as afternoon sheds it's light
as I watch sleep's breaths
her hunger awakens and feistiness returns
"Don't they feed their patients here?"
they never told us to call food services
another blood pressure reading
another blood draw
another trip to the restroom
and it's all good
a colonoscopy evaluation
maybe Thursday or Friday...
looks like time got her wish
Oct 9, 2011
Oct 9, 2011 at 5:53 PM UTC