America the Free ~ America the Brave ~
Freedom with price Capitalism attacked
the many taken hearts broken still
one World try to rebuild
sadness and tears fall hard with fears
guilt by association many accused still
souls evaporated shattered dreams
tears fall on innocence left with anger
The proud fearless knew the inevitable
policeman fireman many lives lost
grieving does not stop 12 years later
New York city once proud & shameless
refusing to let fears in protecting ours
left in shock still question's unanswered
nothing learned nothing gained
ready to attack many left behind
anger greets denial anger meets rage
unacceptable still refusing new love
wanting days to rewind let us go back in time
acceptance allowing the victims leave in peace
the brave taken young leaving us sadly old
haunting dreams lost spirits dwell
no answers to hate never forgetting that day
Evil entered suddenly unforgiving fate
entering our City we stand with the fallen
How to fix how do we Change
This can be read many different ways ~ This is a poem I am so proud to write ~
I have died so long ago.
The pieces of my bones were buried in Sheol.
It was so dark where I lay now.
My flesh is rotten and almost gone.
I have lived once in this world,
Where a loving family I was involved.
A dearest mom who loved me so,
Loving siblings I treasured most!
I'm a free-spirited young lady.
I love to entertain the world,
Wind hums as I hit the notes.
The nature became my hidden world.
I was once a fruit in a tree.
Until one day, a harvester picked me.
Still unripe, too young and fresh.
He stole my innocence.
Too many years past and my seed grew.
I have started bearring fruits.
But the harvester did not content,
He pulled me out from where I'd been.
He murdered me on one darkest night.
Then buried me beneath the ground.
I'm so helpless, no voice to shout!
My breath is counting one by one.
Until I surrendered the last air in my lungs.
I have died so long ago.
This girl that you used to know,
Isn't the one who writes a poem.
She had died so long ago.
She walks every night to find her home.
I do not know?
Dear Sir,my innocence is gone now, no more fear ,
Do you love to **** me again, I am always here.
I wonder when you taught me how to use a pen,
I was so into you but my ****** was in pain !
I was crying, i was too immature to understand
I was turning only 13, I couldn't feel what happened.
but I promise I never forget what you taught me at the end.
I begged you to stop and I looked into your eyes,
there was a reflection of a cruel world,that what I deserved!
Don't be afraid, mommy never knows what you did,
Nobody knows that you made me bleed.
Dear sir,my innocence is gone with all my tears,
as I had no safe place to hide myself from fears.
Nobody saw anything as your world was blind!
having hidden hatred inside,a virgin died.
Dear sir, time cannot erase your memories,
time doesn't heal all wounds,that you marked,
yes,you took my innocence that will be always on my mind.
You have my soul, but you have your fate
Whatever your words, I’m willing to take
You have my word; I’ll give you my breath
It’s like a chain that would never be break
You are my love with all my heart,
I’ll fight for you with all my might.
And in the way, you admire your goals,
You hold my hands, but not so close.
As you go to your chosen path,
I’ll accept the fact that we will be apart.
In the dark side, I leave behind
Within my faith, that you’ll arise
Please don’t look back, coz I’m fighting still
I’m hurting so much! Don’t want to have you near
I accept my fate for what it does,
I’m bleeding so much, do you know for whom it was?
You reach your goals, as you want to have,
Would you remind the man that gave what he had?
As you reach the stars, and be the one
Be a sun that shines its own.
After the rain, the rainbow comes,
Like dark in the moon, when the light flash
A glimpse from you at least a short
For then I knew my pain is worth.
Thoughts swirling in my head
Remembering we all bleed red
Life is a tapestry
True happiness a dream
Such a confusing world
Paradise yet to be seen
A country with a dark past
Some hauntings still last
Unwilling to change, planted in lead
Feel it with your heart and head
No crystal ball
No room to fall
Deeper into our subconscious
Life is far too precious
A bitter pill
Such a large hill
Let freedom ring
Let children sing
Saying hell no
Not in our name
This is a political game
Most looking for fame
Dig a grave
Hell, it's a road you paved
Here to make waves
Those who are adverse
Stuck with the curse
Burden on the young
Who is truly free
It will never be you or me
We mourn over the dead
A nation so divided
We are tainted
From birth we are painted
Who are the real heros
We all have blood on our hands
Invisible to most
Only the true can see
Even on our homeland
We have a roll to play
History is witten in stone
Learn from it instead of beating it to the bone
Our futute is only written in clay
All life is valuable
Old school. . New school
It is what's in our hearts
Time to stop tearing one another apart
Just take a stand
Even if you walk alone
Hold your head up high
What is life if you are to afraid to fly?
We all bleed red
Time for a transformation
Get ready to shed
Change doesn't come easy
Fear those with nothing to lose
We all deserve to live as we choose
Get ready because we all have a voice
Step up and make a choice
We condemn those we don't know
Some of us even for show
Confusion runs through me
Unsure of how things should be
My constant idealistic views
Desperately grasping not to become jaded
Dreaming of a utopia
Generations before us
Marching through the gas
Fighting for peace and love
Is the joke on me?
Is there something I can't see?
Scared for our youth
Where are the leaders?
Put personal pride aside
Look in the mirror
It's time to live without fear
There's a person you'd like to curse,
so a voodoo doll, then make first;
Upon that doll now cast a spell,
summoned from the wicked in hell;
Now you need some pins and needles,
bring the pain of pitch forked devils;
The length of pins make sure are long,
the devils pain will be more strong;
The more a needle's thick and round,
will make the pain be more profound;
Must take your victims' lock of hair,
attach it to the doll to wear;
The doll, up high, hold in the air,
Into the doll's eyes, you must stare;
Call the doll by your victims name,
while at the doll, the needle aim;
Curse the name as you stab it in,
twisting and turn it as you grin;
With needles stuck about the head,
each needle deeply did embed;
With legs, all over, stuck with pins,
you now must wish the curse begins.
I saw a man once on TV
He was hunting grizzly bear
Then bear, he got the upper hand
And blood was everywhere
That man was in an awful state
But I lacked in sympathy
You live by sword, you die by sword
That’s just the way it be.
I knew a man, a fisherman
He hunted for big fish
But when his boat did over turn
He never got his wish
Cause big shark came and took his life
And Karma, it was done
It seems that this time hunter lost
And mother nature won.
It seems some folk are low on soul
And only live to kill
I have no sympathy for these
And nor I ever will
When the game gets turned around
They’ve only they to blame
Because they gained their pleasure from
This heartless killing game.
Melt away Racism – Zamreen Zarook
Various ways the populace onset,
Launching always begin with an inset,
Day by day every mind starts to feel upset,
But it is sky rocketing on every sunset.
What is the gaining out of this discrimination?
What is the meaning of this aggravation?
They find this as an anticipation,
But it is considered as the state of aberration
Tongue is given under an oath,
He gave hands and legs not to see you as sloth,
Let your positive mind handle them both,
Definitely it will wrap you with a golden cloth.
Show respect and be perfect,
Happiness and Elysium will be your deflect,
It’s the exact time to give the inject,
Then, there won’t be a single of deflect.
Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi
the self-appointed leader of the
Islamic State of Iraq and the Levant
jihadist group who declared
portions of Syria and Iraq
to be an Islamic Caliphate
under his personal command
was not birthed from a woman’s womb.
He is some slothful bipedal afterbirth slime
from a strange sexual encounter
between Adolf Hitler and Josef Stalin
in Hell itself and then he was dumped on earth
to be raised by a wandering herd of feral pigs.
He is evil incarnate in a subhuman form.
He is the demon child of the Devil.
Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi is Satan’s Spawn.
no doubt sympathetic poured in exceeding a ton
sans the reverberations from the supposed terroristic act doth stun
although neither a native bostonian son nor one who opts to run
my track record racks up with any manner of pun
yet only tears for deadly explosions
and incalculable loss of limb it less life barring none
when cataclysmic dynamic explosions occurred around 3:00 p.m. on mon
day april 15th, 2013
with inexplicable psychic
piercing pain punctured as with countless gun
near bunker hill where american revolution
bred battles for freedom bought
from colonial americans feverish cry for independence caught
with blood, sweat and tears of lexington and concord fought
with nada one justifiable reason and now motive sought
but...when perpetrator identified justice will be taught
adhering the state motto
"By the sword we seek peace, but peace only under liberty"
for religious or those of secular beliefs
whose lives rent asunder with grievous heartbreak wrought
despite the race, religion or creed
of those mortally hurt and/or killed, i feel such heinous deed
only the mindset of a live googly eyed yahoo doth feed
with relish the innocent lives forever he/she now gloating with glee
as a miser with greed
at what august athletes (suffering les miserable’s) lack any wherewithal to heed
for who could foresee where a twisted mind or two would lead
ambitious disciplined bodies would so suddenly need
triage with others on the sidelines to plead
for desperate intervention with utmost speed
heard by ordinary folk now cast as heroes
bursting forth like a hardy weed.
L U S T
scars of violence
stigma throughout life
note: this a screaming clamor for justice to my fellow Pinoys (both male and female) who are brutally raped and cruelly stripped of their dignity and dreams here in Saudi Arabia.
Form: Hay(na)ku :)
May 28, 2014
Contest: Three Lines Are Fine
Sponsor: Debbie Guzzi
First Place.... Prayers for the victims...
I'm not sure how youre going to lead your people to salvation
gang bangers holding the bag, perpetrating violence
i can't help what i think about that predicament
blackmailed, or all rap artists truly do like being the figure heads
of community terrorism
fighting for their rights throughout history
just to throw it all away
raised to believe they were the only ones whose legacy is a nightmare
but they make money rubbing their guns and drugs in our face
selling other people to blackmarkets for slavery
to make more chemicals
I truly hope you take this opportunity to lead your people in the right direction
to truly be able to find themselves
i'm only one person on the outside looking in
i just truly dont believe all those money making rap artists
truly desire to continue the cycle of violence
i myself believe some sick racist paid them to throw themselves away
Drugs and guns
\kids killing kids
something has to be done
and why your people are the ones representing this
I truly believe another black man can encourage his fellows of skin
to see the bright side, work on solving the problem from now on instead of making it worse
I can't handle much more of this
seeing people fight for their rights
and lose to themselves again
being part of the solution of the problems they are soo upset about
is more understandable than being paid to be the front lines of genocide
and continue the never ending cycle of hate and confusion
I'm not fooled by what has happened to them, and what is
but change is inevitable, solving their own problems they probably were entrapped with
War crimes on both sides
the black and white
minds cornered by previous experiences just want to end this nightmare
or maybe i'm wrong
maybe the racists over there are right
maybe they didnt see how someone made them think one thing
and used violence to enforce actions cornering the hate again
in the end war crimes on both sides
i just urge you to find a solution to this
i myself am tired of the psychological fight of a futile civil war
engulfing both sides of the unfortunate paradox
its harder than you realise to see through it
its harder not to get wrapped up in my own emotions of the past that was and the present
Manipulative people brainwashed the innocent
and then used violence against your people to prove that they are justified
its a sick game obama
its disgusting and the streets of your own society need a solution to a dirty trick
Millions of lives and souls untold
And to account it all
Words, lines, films
A sliver of soft, scarlet ribbon
Writers flare with passion so strong
Filling minds with fantasies, reveries, histories
We consume it all like freshly baked bread
We feed until we are engorged and fed
A viral, universal mess
Ideas and unmade memories
Nothing more or less
My eyes remain glued to the screen
Living it all out
Tears dare to flow—to doubt
I should have thought of that
Can I truly let myself believe,
Someone else lived that!
Pound away your directors, script-writers, fighters
For miles and miles of stories remain unread
While the unknown remain in the grounds of humble malnourishment
Careers for the mind with a twist of the fable
Left us savage for the meal and the crumbs under the table
I can never let the raw truth rest
Naked, bare and empty—soothed
Nothing more or less
I cringed for originality
Observed the world through the unedited scripts
The very act, the poetry pact
The wild animal drooling in the back
I was slapped in the face by my boss who had cracked
As the reviews bloated less and less
They wanted something awful, something flaw-ful—something new
And this empty brain in agony—HISSED
I have lived in no epic battle of account
Of the collateral sufferings of my brothers
The stories the red carpet smothers
And still I ache to create
Before the other ones discover
I returned with ‘‘oh me’s’ and ‘oh my’s’’
With a work of pure genius—a storybook of lies
Nothing more or less
Little have I lacked to dream
Of contortioned pulls and dramatic fire
Stories that rarely brittle or tire
I fiddled with precious glass on edge
Foully eager for self-damage
As if it would trigger some legitimate spark
Searching for creatures and features in the dark
No one unlocked the passage that night
For the starving idea-parched malice of right
But all welcomed with open arms
A pale mannequin filled with jewels and charms
Consuming, fuming dooming
All ghosts hoping, screaming, looming
Hoping that one day they would find themselves on the big screen
Their legacy real as it can possibly get
Nothing more or less
You think you’ve gone just far enough,
I could smile knowing you’ve gone far enough that you can’t go back again
You think you were careful but,
I’ve caught a glimpse of your true, wretched form
You think you can find a way into my good graces
I’ve seen what you are, monsters with a friendly costume
You can’t deceive me anymore and, I don’t consort with serpents
You think I’m a game to be played but, trust me, you could never win
Don’t underestimate me
You think I’m a joke but, trust me you won’t be laughing
You think I’m just talking myself up but, trust me, you’re the ones going down
My eyes took too long to adjust
Better late than never
It may take a monster to know one but, I promise my teeth are sharper than yours
My first reaction to the hideous revelation that was your form was to weep
Fall to my knees, maybe even wretch my heart from my chest and onto the carpet
Then I thought about the mess it would make
I decided the only blood that will spill, will be your own
I was not weak, but I had a weakness
A heart of soft gold stitched to my sleeve with care
Now my heart is a stone so heavy
I could kill at least two birds at once
Being the nice guy is a thing of the past
Thanks for freeing me of that softness
You thought I was all sunshine and delicate things
When really I had just been swallowing razor blades
Now that sun is setting and I hope you see it was you who were wrong
Can you feel my darkness coming, because it’s eager to hold you
If you thought I was the one who would just stand still or turn to run
Your gonna be the one with tired feet
I’m not sad anymore
Just sick with the plague of your lies
Contagious, and I’m looking for someone to kiss
Even angels can make themselves wicked
When we do, we take no prisoners
Still think I’m a game
This one is just beginning
Sketch and Freak
Drag and Jonez
Waste life left
Scared to speak
Unarmed I stood against the beast
Defending what was mine
The theft of my guileless innocence
His most cruel, remorseless crime
Fighting slings and arrows
Words that cut me to the quick
Lifting thin arms in resistance
To his heavy, brutish fists
Sorrow comes in darkness
Arrives without an invite
The moon stares dully at me
No magic will save me tonight
Measured unforgiving blows
He chose where each would land
Dark purple bruises gave away
Where my body had been slammed
With my knack for weak excuses
“I tripped and fell down again”
He sneered that they’re “just love taps”
While I played a game called ‘pretend’
Naked in my bed
Protecting a child yet unborn
Came another beating
From this cur who’d earned my scorn
What cannot be seen in shadows
Can suffocate one’s will
When I reclaimed my spirit
I crawled out of the mouth of hell
Ages have come to pass since then
The fiend at last routed from my life
I’m no longer frightened
Of just being someone’s wife
I do not know?
*A assignment was due in class. *
Every time a gun shoots
A tree looses its roots
Every time there is bloodshed
Along with it millions of tears are shed
Every time a heart is stabbed
Someone else’s life gets barren
As violence grows
Many more mothers moan
The sounds of destruction
Overpowers the voice of those
Who are innocent
Who suffer with no reason
Who beg for life
Who have heart full of innocence
Why do so much violence?
That the child’s cry cannot be heard
When his father is killed
Why do so much violence?
That a mother moans
Over her child’s dead remains
Why do so much violence
For winning any stupid battle
Which is taking lives
Of people who have wives
And mothers and children
When you can keep calm
Talk things out
Do whatever you can
To keep violence out
Because there is no sin as big as
Like a fiery vengeance
Grasped in open hand
Cuts the loathed foe
Stains your own land
Hate surges like flood
Shatters the weak soul
Spilling the divine blood
Of both sides involved
Anger drives men crazy
Like a tropical storm
Loss are assessed lately
When started to mourn
Forgiveness is not easy
And not for everyone
Don’t wait until query
What have I done?
Your word oh God is like unto a lamp
that guides the footsteps of your flock
inscribed upon their hearts like a stamp
and the path of the master they stalk
On the road to Mount Zion they walk
and the gifts they bring you in praise
about their redeemer and King they talk
and his banner is the one that they raise
Their garments resemble the spirit of light
and crowns of radiance upon their head
wield the Word of Truth do they fight
with principalities the earth will shed
Against the rulers of darkness they stand
the fallen sons of God and their wiles
they hold the shield of faith in their hand
to defend against that which defiles
They wrestle not with flesh and blood
against the strongholds of darkness they wield
with the gospel of peace are their feet shod
and the sword of the spirit in the field
They fight against those who mankind would harm
the war is not with weapons of steel
they have gone forth to sound the alarm
to flee from the gods where the fallen do kneel
The knowledge of God teaches love and truth
and tender thoughts of understanding
so many minds acquired hatred in youth
and with the armies of Demons are banding
To understand God his Word you must know
discerning the powers that rule in his stead
the Word who is master the truth will you show
least on the wrong path you be led
The sword of the spirit is the Word of Truth
God does not torture or rape
The Demons are ones who with war do sooth
and the face of this world shape
sources IICor. 10:3-6 Eph. 6:10-17
Mark 13:2 II Tim 3:1-5
Apocalypse 11:18 , chptr 19
COPYRIGHT © all rights reserved
2010 C Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC
Yes I am white, and yes I can write
From the DM and V so you think
I can not spill my guts or MC
I am dumb if I choose to believe
That I got any skill to convey
So much pain I have felt in my chest
From my dad smacking me in the head
Cause an F on a test and I guess
That's enough to put hands in the cuffs
And arrest the big pest that's oppressed
And has left me a mess and completely distressed!
I will no longer be so depressed
Or this pressed to suppress all this hate I possess
So no rest till I break these two chains
That have plagued all my veins, its insane,
When we don't have an answer!
Bruce Banners, the standard,
We lose all our manners
And start with the slander
Then harp on the "pampered"
With heart crushing banter
So dark is my candor
Were used to being used
and tossed in the hamper
I'll wash my lacoste but it only gets damper
And that's when I got get up, its enough
Cant let Russ, just adjust, my outcome
Or who I become!
And so do I fall, and so do I fail,
Falling so deeply into this destructive void,
Nothing but ash and specs of dust that were once my brittle bones and scarred flesh.
To not know what is ahead,
How maddening! How so distraught have I seemingly become,
Forgotten myself as time has smoothed over me.
Tricky, sly fiend indeed; master and slave a like to us all.
Do I dare move forward into the uncertainty that is humanity and of such society?
So gut wrenching, thoughts filled of bile at what is.
As we all are from and are the same, yet tear limb by limb the essence of ourselves by one another in an endless state of bigotry and violence; so brightly are we bathed in evil.
So easy is it to see.
Miracles; perhaps shall they see fit to carry me away from the void that is, and from such temptation, as to live the rest of days in blissful, stagnant dreams.
A June Night in Rotgut Saloon
In walked Lefty Red behind him lay many dead
into this old dusty town his tired horse had tread
Well known his draw was quick as lightning
his stare deadly cold and so very frightening
Stranger where is the nearest watering hole
getting drunk and riled up is my goal
Ahead 120 paces is our old Rotgut saloon
enter there and you'll get your wish soon
Lefty Red , cold, bitter and as hard as granite
entered and saw a scene like he had planned it
Crowd was loud, rowdy as hell and so very drunk
beer and whiskey flowing , an odor foully stunk
Give me a beer and two shots of your best redeye
send over that sweet blonde philly that I spy
Barkeep did exactly as he was very sternly told
That philly's man was none other than Billy Cold
Billy Cold that had 7 carved notches on his gun
even once cut a man slowly to death just for fun
The stare sent a hard and well understood reply
want this har' woman , get her , jest you try
Lefty Red knocked down whiskey shots and his beer
spun around to show a fastdraw rig , he had no fear
Billy wasted not a second to make his best play
drawed his 45 to make that insulting Lefty Red pay
As his hammer was so very quickly cocked back
his ears heard a loud booming pistol crack
A huge hole suddenly tore open in his chest
a mistake, for Lefty Red was always the very best
Body was calmly , swiftly and carefully taken away
nothing new, this was like just about any other day
Lefty told the piano man to shut up and play a tune
time for the pretty saloon girl and getting drunk soon
Townfolks remember so very well that hot June day
Lefty Red had tested Billy Cold and made him pay
Forty-five slug and justice had caught up with that man
as Lefty Red had for seven, long searching years planned
I do not know?
Danger night! , watch out
everyone seems to have
lost control. Condensed
into this one fright night
is every-ones hatred,
anger and lack of self control.
It’s a dangerous diabolical
mayhem, extreme rage drawn
from a bitter built up hate. An
all out bloodbath of a brawl, a
seemingly violent enthralment.
Murder is allowed and
won’t be frowned upon.
For on this one night, unlawful
vicious murderous intent
goes ahead. The authorities
give their full consent. The law
is bent and no one is getting
sent down, except into the
My mounts and I are one.
Across the plains we fly
Like the wind that scours
Like the sun that burns,
The cold that kills.
The Buffalo Spirit thunders in my blood,
Guides my way through the featurelesss land:
I draw the bow
Strike and move on.
My ways are as old
As the ways of the Earth;
A harshness you have all forgotten.
Know this, White Man From The East:
If the Soul of this place
Doesn't lay you straight
To feed the soil with your bones,
heavy metal horses on bloody battle hooves
stampeding serenity underneath their raw and ruthless rules
with red eyes burning bright, fire shooting through their nostrils
they burn like asteroids and the heat is coming hostile
with sadists in their saddles the horses they get madder
expanding is their evil as the world is getting sadder
sharp spurs stuck in their flesh...world around all seems redder
crush the weak under their hooves bringing millions to their deaths
black and blue they run together seeking all they can destroy
dropping corpses and cadavers like a twisted childs toy
whipped like slaves in cold dark caves hate horses go into a frenzy
and the victims of their violence are like stars and sand in iron hands...
countless and too many
their coming sounds like thunder
their hate like hurricanes
their thoughts are just like twisters that keep them full of rage
cages now corroded
iron bars they bend and break
and prison walls that kept them in they fall under the weight
they gallop now through gardens where serpents play their games
they gallop now through ghetto streets leaving carnage filled crime scenes
they gallop through rich neighborhoods devistaing all they can
they rob,they steal,they cut,they kill,the heart and soul of man
but believers call the father when they fill that dark horizon
they stand and face those horses of hate even when the beast is rising
with vulgarness and violence the horses curse the truth
but when God puts His holy hands on them...
horses of hate turn into rivers of glue
The little child was born into a home of violence and abuse.
Sadness was the closest thing to love and that was no excuse.
A little child screaming as his mother gets slapped and tossed all around,
While his worthless father struts thinking he is something he is quite profound.
The little children with ragged clothes and snotty noses just stood there in tears,
What an impression this father has made for them through the years.
We live in a monkey see monkey do get messed up society,
Most of the children grew up watching their parents fighting never knowing
Alcohol or drugs, seemed to dominate most of the poor.
The thing they didn’t realize this was only a temporary escape door.
The pain that was eased only led to more grief.
Till violence took over in the name of relief.
The daddy was loaded up paying the bills, food, utilities and rent,
While momma stayed home pregnant and got fussed at for the money she
They had sunk so low they were ashamed to attend any church,
Afraid that the pastor might point them out as he stood on his perch.
What is the answer if any to this little tale of mine,
How can we make it stop, can we ever draw a line.
I do know that hate begets hate so could love be the key?
Has anyone ever tried it long enough to truly find the answer of this I would
love to see.
All of my life I have heard do unto others as you would have them do unto you,
Such a simple answer could this be all we need to do?
Think About It!!!