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Social Hate Poems | Social Poems About Hate

These Social Hate poems are examples of Social poems about Hate. These are the best examples of Social Hate poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Rhyme | |

Don't Hate Her

Don't hate her because she's beautiful 
Or envy that she's hot
She is all about appearances
It consumes her every thought

Try to look a little closer
Past the makeup and the hair
Beauty has little value
If a person doesn't care

Looks are her priorities
She doesn't work on what's inside
People tell her she's beautiful 
She gorges on her pride

She's an emotional anorexic
Soul food she refuses to eat
Her behavior reinforced
When people fall at her feet

She craves the admiration
The attention she receives 
Pretty is her curse
In the end it's her disease

She becomes a caricature 
Her illusion to maintain 
Fighting the mirror and time
Over and over again

I appreciate a beautiful woman but the Beauty has to emanate from a much deeper place for me to truly appreciate it. The most beutiful women I have met have become more beautiful with each word they have spoken. We need to stop emphasizing the physical when we raise our children, we will then raise up a generation of truly beautiful people.


Details | Free verse | |

About Me Pt. 1

What can I say about me that you can’t learn within a day?
I was born to be a hopeless romantic,
except I never have any romance in my life
I am a gentleman,
I take my chivalry seriously
I want someone to hold and never let go of,
I want someone who will be there
I want someone who will tell me everything will be okay
I want someone to hold my hand
I find myself surrounded by beautiful girls,
but they always seem to find happiness in somebody else
I’m great at reading the negative signs
I’m terrible at reading the positive ones
I always misinterpret friendship for attraction
or vice versa out of fear of rejection,
out of fear of being mistaken, yet again
I am always, just a friend
I am blessed with the best friends in the world
but, I fear, I might turn my back on them to some extent over a girl
I’m afraid my friends will disappear
finally realizing I’m not worth keeping
finally seeing what I see in myself
but, I hope and pray that they never do
Far too often I wonder
I wonder if I died, if anybody would really care?
I wonder if anybody would really miss me like they say they would were I not 
there?
I’m smarter than I’ll admit,
but I still fear I’m not smart enough
I’m afraid I’ll never reach my goals
I’m afraid I’ll never graduate from college,
become a doctor,
meet that one special girl,
and start a family of my own
I’m afraid to let myself down,
but I’m even more afraid of letting down others
I am a people pleaser,
but I’m not sure if I ever really please many people 
I like knowing what’s around the bend,
but I don’t enjoy monotony 
or spoiled endings
I enjoy having fun,
but I enjoy being serious
I’m easily amused
but I hate stupid things
I write best when I’m depressed,
but I hate feeling that way
Yet I love writing so much,
I just can’t win


Details | Free verse | |

Love, I Hate You

Love, I hate you, 
Not ‘cos you’re ugly.

Love, I hate you, 
Not ‘cos you don’t love me.

Love, I hate you,
‘Cos of your great love to me.

Love, I hate you, ‘cos of it; 
A listener, you don’t want to be.
.
You heeded not what I said, 
Even thou, I beg you, to “back off!”

“Now, Look!
You see… what we’ve done!?”

A soul is in grieve, 
‘Cos of us.

With your love, 
My soul cries, too.

Love, I hate you, 
For intoxicating me, with your potion.

Thou, you know…
I am a married man.



Details | Verse | |

The Man Behind The Scene

You’re so cynical, your mind is kind of hazy,
you’re out of touch and you can’t see reality.
Wrestling with your demons it’s plain that you can’t win,
you scheme and you plot over and over again.

So hateful of opinions that differ from your own,
you turn your ears to no one but yourself alone.
You are but a shadow of what you ought to be,
far removed from all the rest of humanity.

Fences you have built all around you,
holding back all the good things that you can do.
When will you ever learn to show your trust,
when will you finally get rid of your mask?
I can see through you, it’s plain to see you’re lost.

How can you ever think that you can do no wrong
when I see confusion follow you all along?
Isn’t that self-confidence just a front you keep
to cover the pain that you’re hiding there down deep?

Arrogance is your profession, you’re worse than a fiend,
vanity is your bedmate, pride is your best friend!
Love is what you hate and hate is what you love,
all that others own you want to steal and grab.


Details | Rhyme | |

Social Media - Life of a Teen

Every day I go on Facebook to check on my wall, I just stare and wonder if I even know you people at all. 
I go on Twitter to tweet a tweet, then on Instagram to share a random picture of my feet.
I post just about the most ridiculous things, including what I wear and what I eat.
I can't stand my page being blank and white, so I come up with a funny story, whenever I can't think of anything else to write.
If I'm really bored I might check out someone else's page instead, to post a rude comment about something they said.
I don't hang out with a lot of friends, but according to the internet, I have over a hundred and ten!
This is everyone's routine day by day, as we check posts, and secretly call each other names as we pass in the hallway. 
We no longer have genuine compassion; instead we get straight to the point, something I like to call bashing.
We think it's normal to yell "Amy's having a baby and Mark is going crazy!"
Texting is another great hobby, I just got a message calling Amy a slut, and Mark's girlfriend a complete nut.
We call this our way to connect, but society is turning into a wreck.
Social media helps us to keep in touch, but I think it's the reason we haven't slept much.

Sometimes I stay on my phone till 4 in the morning, but who needs sleep anyways? 
That’s boring!
The internet is such a time consumer.
Its fast pace has even caught up to the late bloomers.
I think I’m going crazy; I can hardly go a day.
I wonder if other people are this way.
It’s such a distraction while I’m supposed to be doing homework.
But keeping up with all these statuses is already enough work.
You can find EVERYONE on Facebook!
From aunts to uncles and about a million girls named Brook.
Some people write about the most interesting things,
Including their relationships which have no strings.
Reminds me of Anita,
So easy to please, seems charming and wise, but easy for all the guys.
Meanwhile, Sammy is bullied until she sits there and cries.
Our eyes are glued to the screens that only causes affliction,
Welcome to social media, the world's latest greatest addiction.


Details | I do not know? | |

RIP Virginity

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 looked into your eyes, 
there was a reflection of a cruel world, that’s  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 so 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.
My innocent world was shattered by your touch
Hope no one ever has to experience such
For all the pain, all the cruelty, thank you very much!


Details | Italian Sonnet | |

Love to Hate Hate to Love

Lessen not thy pain heal thy broken hearts.
Rejoice forth for a new love shall arrive.
Penance shall not ease it, with pain alive.
For fault of your ways, begin with new starts.
Fault of another, remember their parts.
Take it slow, not infatuations drive.
Let love come easy, for it to survive.
Feeling love survives, physical departs.

Substantial feelings last forever more.
Obsessions get lost, hurting our ways.
True love has no touch or act at the door.
Just be together, seals dearest displays.
My poetic words are wisdom to score.
Play your hand, live either joys or dismays.


Details | Haiku | |

No Fear

Evil's popular,
But I will do the right thing.
If caught, so be it.


Details | Verse | |

I Don't Hate America

I Don’t Hate America

I like the country I live in
That doesn’t mean I have to sing their songs
to prove that sh@!.
That doesn't mean that 
I can just can’t get over the fact that
they murdered the people who built it
 
America was dedicated to a proposition that
“all men are created equal, except
for women, indians and blacks

The white men were just fine is what we were told 
but what about those who were stolen that never made it over to NEW WORLD?
The ones that were thrown overboard and
those who died from sickness while in transport

Remember those who were born into slavery and never even knew what freedom was before their physical bodies left
and people like Thomas Jefferson
He understood that slavery was wrong but did not free his own until his death
What about those who beaten senseless and burned, and hanged,  
All while screaming “Nigger" What’s your new name?
Oh how soon do we forget…
That’s why I despise that word and
I don’t care who it is that uses it
#u$k that slavery sh@!
And #u$k that flag b@%ch!
#u$k you America because you’ve always made things hard .
So don’t look at me strange when I show those songs disregard and those fake ass patriotic undertones about how we are the land of the free
more like the land of the captured and the Home of the Slaves, see

I don’t’ hate America
I can be and do and go as I please
But, then I remember the poor people they injected with disease 
They thought they were getting free health care but the doctor is giving them syphilis 
Please! 

I remember the natives of this land
They slaughtered and labored them to work for freedom in their own land 

I remember the Civil War 
where we were a country divided by the Mason Dixon Line
The north and the south of the same country at war to save lives
 
I don’t hate America
This is my home 
But I refuse to let the things that 
my ancestors endured during the struggle of building SUCH A FINE COUNTRY be forgotten
It’s 2012 and the politicians still plottin to find a way to take away the black vote 
It’s the same shit, but now they just don’t use the noose to choke the life out of souls  
I’m so tired of the constitution and it’s loop holes, and amendments, and acts, and laws
This just proves that man can’t govern themselves because even with all these rules we constantly fall into the black hole deeper and deeper
I don’t hate America
I just choose to not take part in its little song and dance
I pledge my allegiance to God 
and continue to write and lose myself in my poetic trans 


Details | Acrostic | |

Reflections: Midlife Crisis

P     aranoia permeates, etching itself into your fractured face,
A     cacophony of constant pressure; life remains a stressful race,
N     othing to hope for, no positives like promotion in the workplace,
I      nability to love, relationships lift anchor and set sail without chase,
C     hildren crushing dreams under mortgages; age grows with disgrace
!!


Details | Rhyme | |

Straight White Christian

Constitution says All men are created equal
We live in the home of the brave
But we annihilated the Red man
And made the black man a slave
We imprisoned the Yellow man
And judged the poor and the gay
Only a rich straight white Christian
Can be a free man today
We thirsted for power, now isn't it odd
We raped, pillaged and plundered in the Name of God
We committed crimes time will never erase
Then thumped a Bible in your face
We sin compulsively assuming God will forgive it
Then preach Christianity but we never live it
We formed a bigoted society where hate is the rule
If we accept others as Equals we call our own a fool
We sit in judgement of others, I guess we forgot
This isn't the way that Jesus taught
I'm a straight white Christian so maybe I'll fall
But I'll die believing God created us all
So when I read the Bible and God's Children I see
I'll never assume it's only children like me.
I no longer listen to your bigoted view.
Equality for all, not just people like you.

Equality means Equality and Bigotry is Bigotry
Jesus said "Love Thy Neighbor" NO DESCRIPTIVE ADJECTIVE.


Details | Personification | |

Not Really

How it must hurt you so on days like this,
  Walking around with a frown clutching your fist.
Hearing the words that are meant to anger you,
   Confused  you cry because there is nothing you can do.
Your mind is playing tricks on you driving you to say,
    I hate you all and the games you play please just go away.
Trusting nobody you are not sure which way you sould go,
    It's not real and  all in your head  is what you do not know.
Waiting to see just what tomorrow will possibly bring,
    All will be perfect and you wont rememver a thing.
Your thoughts they torement you  almost every day,
   Each night asking our Lord why your life is this way.
Feeling so alone thinking there is nobody who cares,
   But actually there is so many but you are not aware .
If only you would hear me so you might begin to see,
   You must believe in yourself if you want to be free.
You must have some faith if you are to understand ,
    What God has in store for you and what he has planned.
All the hurt and anger will soon begin to disappear ,
    You'll stand up tall again facing life with no fear.
Please remember always that you are never alone,
    By listening with your heart your path will be shown.
TAC


Details | I do not know? | |

A Story My Mother Told Me

someone always told me this with tears in her eyes...


(for Lata Sethi's late-mother, who was my mother’s ‘sister’ and who took us all into her heart, and for Lata and Ravi Sethi of Defence Colony, New Delhi)


a wife left South Africa in the 1960’s to join her husband 
who was in exile at the time...

in 1970 the husband was sent by the African National Congress to India to be its representative there...

the husband and wife spent two years in Bombay...

one afternoon the husband fell and broke his leg...

the wife knocked on their neighbour’s door, in an apartment complex in Bombay

the neighbour was an old Punjabi lady...

the wife asked the neighbour for a doctor to see to the injured husband...

a Parsi ‘Bone-Setter’ was promptly summoned...

the husband still recalls his anxiety of seeing ‘Bone-Setter’ written on the Parsi gentleman’s bag...

by the way, the ‘Bone-Setter’ worked his ancient craft and surprisingly for the husband, his broken leg healed quite soon...

but still on that day, while the ‘Bone-Setter’ was seeing to the husband...

the wife and the old Punjabi lady from next door got to talking about this and that and where these new Indian-looking wife and husband were from as their accents were clearly not local...

the wife told the elderly Punjabi lady that the husband worked for the African National Congress of South Africa and had left to serve the ANC from exile...

and that they had left their two children behind in South Africa and that they were now essentially political refugees...

the Punjabi lady broke down and wept uncontrollably...

she told the foreign woman that she too had had to leave her home in Lahore in 1947 and flee to India with only the clothes on her back when the partition of the subcontinent took place and Pakistan was formed and at a time when Hindus from Pakistan fled to India and vice versa...

the Punjabi lady then asked the foreign woman her name...

‘Zubeida’, but you can call me ‘Zubie’...

the Punjabi woman hugged Zubie some more, and the two women, seperated by age and geography, wept, sharing a shared pain...

the Punjabi woman told Zubie that she was her ‘sister’ from that day on, and that she felt that pain of exile and forced migration and what being a refugee felt like...

Zubie and her husband Mosie became the closest of friends with the Hindu Punjabi neighbours who were kicked out of Pakistan by Muslims...

then came the time for Mosie and Zubie to leave for Delhi where the African National Congress office was based...

the elderly Punjabi lady and Mosie and Zubie said their goodbyes...

a year or two later, the elderly Punjabi lady’s daughter Lata married Ravi Sethi and the couple moved to Delhi...

the elderly Punjabi lady called Zubie and told her that her daughter was coming to Delhi to live and that she had told Lata, her daughter that she had a ‘sister’ in Delhi...

Lata and Ravi Sethi then moved to Delhi...

This was in the mid-1970’s...

Lata and Zubie became the closest of friends and that bond stayed true, and stays true till today, though Zubie is no more, and the elderly Punjabi lady is no more...

the son and the husband still have a bond with Lata and Ravi Sethi...

a bond that was forged between Hindu and Muslim and between two continents across the barriers of creed and time...

a bond strong and resilient, forged by the pain and trauma of a shared experience...

and that is why, and I shall never stop believing this, that hope shines still, for with all the talk of this and of that, and of that and of this, there will always be a simple woman, somewhere, anywhere, who would take the ‘other’ in as a sister, a fellow human...

and that is why there will always be hope...
hope in the midst of this and of that and of that and of this...

hope...


(for Lata Sethi's late-mother, who was my mother’s ‘sister’ and who took us all into her heart, and for Lata and Ravi Sethi of Defence Colony, New Delhi)


Details | Dramatic Verse | |

The number the brand

When I met her , a very old lady she was , yet inside lay a frightened child .
I felt my heart cry , I felt as if I was touching history itself , as I made this older lady, child,  chai .

I remember the day , and so many tears I have cried
I have cried before she and I met 
As a child , so many tears, left confused inside .

Not understanding Why , and how could we stand by and live our lives as if this never happened ?

It happened , we are left in dismay of the movies seen the accounts taken of History 
My self ..I have caught stereotyping the very people whom did this to she , the rest of her Family erased .


The white candles we light , we try and forgive , or just simply block this pain out completely.

It occurs , over and over , as it has been said History will repeat .
When thinking of my children , when I think of that little girl losing ,  cold and scarred , feeling only defeat .

There is a lesson here and I pray , that all whom have been taken from life , have no pain and are gifted spirits throughout eternity . May they be warmed with love,  and reunited with the ones they lost .

The first time I met her , her old hand I took and warmed it with mine , I held it for a long time . 
You could not,  but notice ..the Evil imprinted on skin , the Evil only to remind.
This very old Soul , in her eyes you could see . 
The child that once lived , so innocently free, not aware yet,  of the Hostility .

I speak of a Little girl, I speak of a old woman , I speak of a Jewish,  chosen Religion.

There as I held her frail , old hand  , a brand , a number stamped in Evil a long time ago .   In 1945  , once in our distant, yet Frightening  past . 

We should never forget , never forget it happened , never forget all the names .
If we do , we have learned nothing , A World living in Shame .
                                " Etta Babooshka Kofman  "


Details | Free verse | |

The Righteousness Of Love

Love is a wonder shared by one another it's the only reason I'm not six feet under Love in which I believe in a will to sustain I give back to life, now in dormant states of pain The power of Love may not alone be enough locked inside my dreams escape only from above higher than any human being has ever gone before I must have evolved rise above hate, great once more My Father taught me wisdom I am imprisoned no longer now an beast not of burden I am no lion, I am stronger on my shoulder sits twin dragons long awaiting the day evil forces come forth to take what Love is left, away A Hero of Love light are what the world needs angels, not demons exist where ever you believe follow your heart's direction and you shall achieve objects of affection rid of materialistic greed My bright energy has awakened to a fire never consuming the source as the flames just grow higher that is the desire of a product we call Love Fear, the counterpart what I was once made of I am slowly learning how to win when my peace is harder to sharpen so I have given my pen leave the sword has its uses I must say I believe to vanquish the evil in the minds too diseased to serve any purpose except their own selfish ones tomorrow a new day in the clarity of the sun where we two are now one and one done now does bring about a great change lit by the righteousness of Love.


Details | I do not know? | |

I Don't Care

I Don't Care...


I don't care,
if you're battered black and blue,

I don't care,
just as long as I can drink and screw.



I don't care,
if you've lost your damn job,

I don't care,
you're just a kernel off the cob.



I don't care,
when I see you begging in the street,

I don't care,
I get to suckle on capitalism's raw teat.



I don't care,
about the elderly, the poor, or the weak,

I don't care,
if the earth will be inherited by the meek.



I don't care,
if the climate is warming, I'm so much cooler,

I don't care,
in my penthouse I'm the boss, the only ruler.



I don't care,
for those rolling for scraps in the muck,

I don't care,

I really don't care, cos' I don't give a f**k



inspired by Bob Geldof's "The Great Song of Indifference"


Details | Rhyme | |

I Hate Aunt Floe

NOTE: This poem is a humoruos stab at PMS from a mans point of view

I can see your blood boiling
through  the blades I once called eyes,
they were once beautiful  like jewels
now they hurt my deep insides.
cutting at my guts
and like a noose on my  lungs;
your words seek like bullets 
your mouth like sniper guns.
I’m hit with each inaccuracy…
Being killed by words untrue;
and you even got the nerve
to tell me what you think I do.
But let me get mad
and try to plead my case;
then suddenly the world
is a f--ked up place.
You got tears running down…
What the Hell did I do?
We were just sitting and laughing
I could swear that we were cool.
Oh God…
Oh no…;
I should have seen it… 
It’s Aunt Floe…,
This battle can’t be won or reasoned
I think its best I go.
Cause I hate Aunt Floe 
and she hate me too;
she sit and talk sh-t
about the gum I chew. 
The color of my shirt…,
She say my look is a stair;
She say my best has no worth
And she doesn’t stop there.
I didn’t change
I’ve been the same 
these 28 days,
 but now I’m f_ckin A__hole 
Aunt Floe gave me that name.  
She said get out my face 
This aint your home no more,
But I’m more puzzled by 
What was said before.
I love you 
With her glossy eyes 
I knew it was true, 
But horribly sly
You see these words
make me the fool.
The one that’s cruel
That a__hole dude,
That sparked the fuel
To this f__kin feud.
But I swear to God
I didn’t start this sh_t,
Why would I give up my love 
To live my life like in a pit.
 This is horrible sh_t 
Wasted days spent,
On nothing but the worst
I could be bathed in your sent. 
You could be laughing 
While I’m smiling
But Aunt Floe Won’t let this be,
And the only way to make this right
Is hold my tongue  a week.
And that ain’t gone happen 
I’m a person too,
Not soft
But I got feelins
and don’t know what  to do.
Now its been six days
Unbelievable  rage,
She locked herself 
In the room
I call it her cage.
I smell a sent in the air
It wasn’t there before,
Now lookin down the hall
I see an open door.
Is this a trap 
I’ll guess I’ll see,
If I fall for another
 You know that’s dumb ass me.
Curled in the bed 
I think I know that girl,
But where’s the hells Aunt Floe
The one that f__ked my world.
She packed up and gone
Didn’t even say good bye,
Just came wit gang of bullsh_t
And vanished in the sky.
Is that you my dear
Can you please come here,
Listen close and crystal clear…
I hate Aunt Floe
 Next time she here
Make sure I’m stocked
with weed and beer.
I love you punk.  ?


Details | I do not know? | |

Untitled-Free Thoughts-Rap

Oh well here I go again, 
wishin for a dream that I could be wrapped in, 
entrapped in, 
torn away from addiction, 
destroy the tele… 
vision they strive to force upon you, 
its all false but you know I’m true. 
They will not protect you when you scream your broken cries, 
they are merely evil faces of masked men behind illuminati eyes 
with which they hypnotize, 
brainwash you with their lies. 
I've got those deep thoughts pouring in, 
all the roads I've traveled down
conditions I have traveled in 
here in my pretty town, 
the 910 deserves a crown. 
East Coast I'm representing, 
I promise you I am not venting. 
High on that purple haze, 
And still haven't slept for days, 
excuse these bloodshot eyes
with a krispy kreme glaze, 
some will try to say its just a silly phase...
My mind is so graphic, 
use words like special tactics, 
unmistakable like D'Jango, 
or a peace signs' angle, 
destroy the crave for war and struggle, 
no need to explain all the trouble, 
with places burstin’ into rubble, 
Rebel! Rebel! We’ll show ‘em hell! 
I’ll be fightin’ when I'm dead, 
kick and scream till my blood is shed, 
let authorities know the message will be spread! 
Put on a show with a little bit of passion 
or the bad things will continue to happen.
Get the love through your head, 
all this hatred should be dead, 
what I'm saying must be said, 
before the gauge goes into red. 
With vocabulary this brilliant makes a female more vigilant, 
like brothers boston what I speak 
my words alone will make you weak, make you faint, 
Like blood spilled by hands of a vigilante saint, 
trust me lifes too short,
you dont have the time my young cohort, 
wait until your words make an enemy
cause their threatened by the uncertainty 
that you will make it this far 
make a point unlike this war
next thing you know you see ‘em sweat
words fresh like paint drippin with purpose, 
makin ‘em wet.  
I finger paint a master piece with a just simple rhyme, 
just don't pull your piece on me just let me speak, my mind, 
while I unwind, rewind all this blasphemy, 
continential catastrophe, 
I may have to beg and plead so that my boys can rest in peace 
sorry for the interruption, 
don’t blame me for the corruption, 
for now I'll put my words at ease, 
hope you told someone you loved them today and that it wasn't a white lie, 
just a tease.

04.27.2013


Details | Rhyme | |

Nothing More Or Less

Millions of lives and souls untold
And to account it all
Words, lines, films
Imagination trims
A sliver of soft, scarlet ribbon
Hollywood rounds
Quills deliver
Writers flare with passion so strong
Filling minds with fantasies, reveries, histories
Tragedies
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
Dead
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


Details | ABC | |

I Am Who I Am

Its bad enough that everyday I walk down memory lane, &&' It really puts me in alot of pain. I've been doing the best that I can, but I am who I am. I'm getting tired of everyones exspectations, people always pulling me in different directions. Even when I'm falling down, people still push me on the ground. I'm gonna keep trying, no more lying. No more games, done mentioning names. Being two-faced isn't cool, it just makes you look like a fool. I'm never looking back, that life was wack. I'm done trying to make everyone happy, when they treat me so crappy. I may not have alot of friends, in the end, but atleast I don't have to pretend. I'm gonna be true, with or without you. You'll see, I'm done letting people get to me.


Details | Concrete | |

Observer

A serpent underneath blue sky,
in shade of man, in twinkle of an eye,
above brick wall, in the structure, at the floor,
venom of white dove; contaminated food, undrinkable water,
misguided youth, pregnant daughter, unfaithful father and hateful son,
mothers do pray while we walk through Babylon;
on teli and in the press, on top shells,
price none the less, in bedroom and at your door..
dawn of a new day seemed to be dark,
after all.


Details | Tetractys | |

Sleep Walkers

Ghouls
Zombies
Dead of night
Creatures undead
Whoever started this must be insane.
Is it likely these creatures entertain?
Living instead
Spreading fright
Or ease
Fools



written by Cecil Hickman

Date 11-01-2013


Details | Haiku | |

Hate Survives


Prejudice learned now 
encapsulates willing souls 
only hate survives 


Details | ABC | |

Someone Elses Life

I feel like I'm living someone elses life, a life in strife. I've been strong, but when will I belong. I feel so alone, but I'm doing ok on my own. I can't describe the pain, but I keep in mind every storm runs outa rain. I use to think our love was unbeatable, but really its unforgettable. Everyday I walk down memory lane, trying to ignore the pain. He crosses my mind everyday, when will all this go away. There's gotta be something more, my heart is becoming sore. My momma doesn't have to worry, because I'm not sorry. I know he made the mistake, and he's the reason I have this heartache. What we had, was bad. I shouldn't have let it go that far, your just another scar.


Details | Rhyme | |

I Hate Hoodrats

I hate hoodrats,
To me they are no match.
I hate them with the passion.
I always prayed in the hood,
As a child, that when I got
Grown I would go buck wild
Beating anyone their backend mass,
Because they are low class,
They make sure that the strong,
Black family existence is a thing 
Of the past. I hate their food stamp
Selling, never excelling, treacherous
Trashy tails. They are sell-outs,
Because they let the government
Bail them out and enslave them,
Our men, and beautiful children
They are hindering progress of the future.
I wish that there were sharp-shooters,
That would zap all of them in the back of,
Their red, orange, purple, and blue hair.
They walk around without a care,
In the world. They are lost souls.
Sold out to Satan wrecking the Black nation.
They cause other strong Black women from
The hood that have a little success, a whole
Life of professional distress. I hope one day one
Hoodrat would understand, that they are part
Of Satan’s plan to rob, kill, and destroy, all
Of the little black girls and boys, and most 
Of all killing the men, while causing who to win?
Satan. One day I will get enough Godly strength
To pray for them instead of physically slapping the
Hell out of them. I through prayer will slam Satan’s 
Silliness out of them, but for right now as I work the
Plow and get enough knowhow. Just shame, shame , 
Shame, shame, on all of the hoodrats’ hellified names.



Defend the poor and fatherless: do justice to the afflicted and needy. Deliver the poor and 
needy: rid them out of the hand of the wicked." Though this seems to be directed at other 
gods, it is good advice for humans as well. Psalm 82:3-4

Wealth obtained by fraud dwindles, but the one who gathers by labor increases it. Proverbs 
13:11


Details | I do not know? | |

The Cowardice of the Taliban and The Silence of The Good Muslims

The Cowardice of the Taliban and The Silence of The Good Muslims.


When hot lead tears the flesh of a 14 year old girl,

ripping through her skull,
leaving her to bleed out and die,

does Allah not recoil in horror,

to see His child whimper,
to see His daughter cry.

Where is the indignation,

the anger that often boils over and manifests itself as flags and books and videos are burnt in mass orgies of hollow piety,

where are the voices that scream so loud,
that denounce all but their own creed,

where are the men, the impotent men who crave for nothing more than their fascist egos to feed,

where are the voices that so loudly proclaim,
enemies here and enemies there, always quick to condemn,

where are those voices when the enemy walks amongst them.

14 year old Malala Yousafzai was shot in cold blood,

her crime?

Advocating the rights of girls to an education.

Shame on you, men of bigotry and men of cowardice.

Shame on you, silent and mute accomplices in this carnage.

Shame on me,
for my inaction,

Shame on us all,
who proclaim lofty ideals,

yet are conspicuously silent,

when a 14 year old girl is shot in the head,

by fascist fundamentalist bigots who only worship bullets of hot lead.

Not in my name!

Not in my name,
shall the cowardly men rain down abuse,

Not in my name,
shall the bigoted men light the communalistic fuse,

Not in my name,
shall Malala Yousafzai be shot in the head,

left to bleed out,
while countless mothers' tears are shed,

not in my name,
shall religious murderers,
be left to wander free,

not in my name,
for I dare all believers to open their eyes,
to see!

To see,
the innocence of a 14 year old girl,
wanting only an education,

as the men of the cloth,
prance around with their pathetic self-righteous indignation.

I write this today,
the anger raging in my veins,

yet I fear,

that I shall write more of this,

unless we stand up and say 'no more',

I fear that I shall be writing this again,

until we all,

reclaim the true principles of humaneness,

until we silence the voices of bigotry,
of rage,
of fanatical insanity,

I fear I shall be writing this again,

and,

until the muck-ridden bile,
is not excised,

I shall continue to say,

NOT IN MY NAME!

Or else I shall have nothing,

but my unending shame.



(for Malala Yousafzai, 14 years old, in a critical condition after being shot in the head by the Pakistani Taliban, for her work as a young activist advocating the rights of girls to attend school)


Details | Light Poetry | |

Kindness is a Virtue

Who are and who is my friends or acquaintances, confusing everyday
but today I have found my self to walk a path that is not so rough
I became so blinded to have friends that it pains me anyway
They take a simple kindness and think that I am not tough
so by deliberately challenging me to act like nothing happens I grow bold
Wake up you! and all the rest, I have something to say
I don't like this feeling of regret or sorrow so please do not take me cold
as a friend you should know to not take advantage of my kindness in away
A storm is blowing inside my soul burning a hole in it so
lightning is striking in methods unknown for in the distance thunder you hear
Some of the greatest warriors fall with great weapons of bow
antics that slaughters such feebleness as cowardices use an unseen spear
To let one know that your feelings are clear do not hesitate
to do so shows fear and that is one thing that can determine your choice
With kindness in your corner you should easily win and that will be great!
In the end you can hold up a drink with friends and smile and rejoice


Details | Free verse | |

Marked With His X

amid shackles and ropes 
with fire burning 
hatred into eyes 
a child stood 
without understanding 

seeing tears wet 
on mama's cheeks
and papa's goodness 
spread hatefully 
upon tracks
displayed as flags 
of their righteousness

worth descended
into slavery
of white opinions
placed on heads 
bleeding into 
superiority
expressed in violence 

he grew to become 
the hate 
that hate produced
with a fierce 
determination 
to offer freedom 
for all peoples 
who suffered at the hands 
of racist oppressors 

by any means 
necessary 
became the creed 
adopted from years 
of watching whites 
cover their crimes 
with veiled innocence 

what is not given 
freely 
must be demanded 
for to suffer 
in silence 
is complicity 
to accept 
is stupidity
to do nothing 
is cowardice 
and he was none of these

no one race 
is divine
only God is thus

and so he stood, tall 
against all those 
who deemed him 
unworthy 
taking his seat 
at the table 
of humanity 
demanding to be fed 
as all humans 
have an inalienable right to 

demanding that truth 
be served 
on large platters 
for the world to consume 
for where there is truth 
lies can not hide 
and hope is born 
into minds and 
hearts

in his life he struggled 
to find that light 
but in time 
he stepped into it 
basking in its glow 
ready to shine 
enlightenment
on a world 
still shadowed in 
hate's darkness 

but he would pay 
the price for dreams
with his life 
yet the price 
was never too high 
for the dream lived on 
and thrived 
giving birth 
to a future
that he marked 

with his



X...





Details | Dramatic Verse | |

Emotional Hole

I did not find myself to be so important
So I ask my friends do I seem distant?
When I ask the question I had received an answer, Yes
So I think that made it clear that I had been not the best
I am a friend of a friend that talks so many things
That friend talks to much it is insane and insanity it brings
I do care, about my friends they are all good people
They tend to stand on their high steeple 
Today I find myself not so aware
Disbanding my fear of regret and care
Walking many different paths I see that I have found holes
It is the path that people choose to use to fuel their rage with coals
Coals are partially burnt wood or fossils a piece of fuel
It is the source of burden and fire a rage of emotions that stands cruel
It can be warm and caring, but it also can be baring
I just start to feel so low, below the ground I keep on staring
I reach for my friends so many times I feel so ignorant at times
Just once I feel I should not rely on them when feeling I can not find 
I dig my hole deeper and I can not climb out
For some reason I am just full of doubt
I care about so many things and what I have is confusion
One person should be all I should think about to get out of that illusion
My battle in my heart and mind is not at all so pleasant
I feel so alone in an island that is shaped like a crescent
My emotions is like coinciding with a diameter of the semicircle
Not a full emotion that is complete like a circle
My feelings is circular full of incomplete thoughts, so much deeper
I feel it will wake up my evil half a evil soul that is a sleeper
What question should I ask myself? to believe that I am not so alone
As I feel like a person who is deteriorating to the bone
I ask my friends the same question once again
I figure I should do it, to know what kind of feelings I should end
So many thoughts that come out of my feeling
I feel like my friends take, an emotional trauma of stealing
They ask me questions and I answer theirs
But when I need mine answered I feel burning inside like a flare
Are they even friends when they do not take me serious in anyway
Just put me in my hole cause I feel nothing in their will be getting in my way
It's just so simple to answer someones problem
I answer friends with beauty of a rose, but when they answer mine I get the stem
I know the stem is very important in life, with out it how can a rose be a rose
With a hole to put the root and stem in how can it grow
The words we speak I guess is like all natural things we reap and sow


Details | I do not know? | |

MLK - 1929 - 1968

MLK...
(January 15, 1929 – April 4, 1968)


they shot you down
all those years ago

but

your dream lives on
and always will

for though much has been
gained since you dreamed
your dream

there is much to fight for
and much more to struggle for

and much, much more
to fight for still

so
your dream resounds in
our hearts and we pledge 
this to you today
for though they shot you down
all those years ago on a memphis day
we shall overcome
this we do believe
deep in our hearts
that
we shall overcome
someday...


(for Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.)