Poem | |
The wall that separates
Disguised in honorable robes
Preached to children
Am I to be tolerated?
Just because I am different
White, black, brown or yellow
Straight or gay
Perhaps I am Muslim
I am painted with many brushes
A part of humanity's inconsistancies
When you tolerate
You hold yourself in high esteem
You grace me with your temporary favor
You disguise me with your perceptions
You make me a little less distasteful
For a moment
Perhaps a day
You feel proud for not looking away
I do not seek tolerance
Like you I wish to be valued
To be seen in loving ways
Maybe not today
Labels Will disappear with all our sorrow
For me I am you
I am the many and the few
Waiting for my turn
Will this be my day
To be heard and have a say
For PD's Contest
I don't know if it's my best but it is my most recent.
I have had a strong response to it and I think it is
an important message. Your popularity would have
more people read it and that is a very good thing.
Poem | |
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 ~
Poem | |
As quiet blackness deepened
I lay awake my heart in check,
The cool night wind blew
And welcome silence grew…
Unanticipated music exploded
Roused me from bed rest,
I tiptoed to its source:
Dark sounds from downstairs,
Nearer, higher, and louder
Till it reached the hallway.
He grasped my hand,
Whirled it to turn me twice,
Held me close, went on trotting steps
Slow, quick, quick; slow, quick, quick;
Slow, slow, quick, quick...
He never gets tired, he liked the dance.
He led; I followed - his greatest joy;
In perfect timing to his bidding,
I swayed wherever he flung me,
His steps were full of variation –
He liked it that way;
While I only had one reaction –
Receive his urgings.
Perfect dance he'd always say because
It is with such ease when partner is open
That controlled movement is played.
Ungraceful dance I never liked,
But all this time it kept me alive:
His music and diverse steps I sought
And to it I humbly swayed.
Tonight I let him led again,
Just like the other days and nights.
The darkness of the night was strained,
It was only the curtains that were swaying,
To the night breeze with grace,
Stark of light peeped out from the room,
My hands and feet went frozen like ice,
I heard a different tune within, sad, weary,
But slowly roused with excitement
And anger underneath... Heated me up
Ablaze, my eyes red-stained -
He held me closer to him, and I -
Pulled myself too tight to him
He was pleased I saw it in his sated eyes
As I meekly submitted… for the last time.
We did slow, quick, quick steps for a two
Or more and then he let me go; I trotted
Far away from him then back to him
Without his behest, and out of rhythm
His steps were outside our dance floor…
Down the stairs...In open position he lay there,
In his face I saw his dance - the macabre
dance - I never liked at all. His eyes dazed –
He had his final dance with me after all.
The night was cold, yet I felt warm, and the music gone,
The curtains stopped swaying at the night winds’ prodding.
Poem | |
I don't wear a cape around
My neck, breaking the speed of sound
Or capture bad guys in a web
My powers have never fled
From my heart that's where they stay
Secretly until the day
I see injustice come along
Others are treated so wrong
My super powers become stronger
When I can't take it any longer
Hearing stories of bullying
My special skills kick right in
Set loose, no holding them back
My love alert goes on attack
Not stopping for anything
It won't ease up until I bring
All this hatred to a low
I give one huge final blow
Across the land until there is
No more hate or prejudice
Until then, I'm on alert
Making sure there is no hurt
I will be here till the end
All my powers I will send
Into the hearts of those so weak
Mild mannered, shy and meek
That get pushed around each day
I'll make sure it goes away
This promise will be kept for sure
Any kind of hatred I abhor
Poem | |
There is a place you can go that is full of only love and Warmth .
you will be surrounded by a light that shines from the Heavens ,
Sprinkles of Silver and Gold.
This place is filled with brilliant colors of Purple , vibrant Gold, all colors.
not one Color is less significant then another ,
for every color is equal here .
This place is surrounded by the beauty of different Flowers.
All flowers have significance here . No one Flower is better then another .
All Flowers are equal here .
It is important you know , you can cry here , and should cry as often as needed .
For the tears will cleanse your Soul and give the Flowers water to grow.
No one Tear is insignificant here , every tear has value and not one is better then another .
money holds no value , Where you live , what you own, has no significance here .
You will be surrounded by a beautiful light that shines from the Heavens .
A shining warm light will encircle you and allow nothing to hurt you .
Hate will be shed at the door light a old jacket of no use.
There is a place of beauty and Worth.
This place will not be found on Earth .
It is a place where no one person is better then another .
Poem | |
* Weird Science *
With pens he walks
Pocket Protectors to protect his chest
Taped up glasses on his face
Pull his pants down, call him a GEEK a NERD
Science -relativity theory and it's light speed from space
Experiment this- discover that, is how scientist rant
Brainy cats have so many open portals in their minds
You talk down to us as if we carry the brains of a bird
Do you really think we are all blind,
for not caring over the objectives principles of the Heisenberg?
You passed each and ever single science fairs in class
Feeding your ego collecting dots
After school you earned the right when a bully kicked your a$$!
A DORK calling your self the Math Magician King
Burning and crashing our minds explaining the physics of dying fast
Using your Quantum Leap that our universe comes with a destiny string
No desire to be wired who needs your further scientific understanding
Life comes with a pattern in which we once lived electricity free
Ironically your scientific process of defining itself continues to expand
Supported by the measurements and masses only you NERDS understand
The power points of our so called energy,
is pointless to me like our so called gravity.
The tale you spin is not of love but a twisted one of insanity
God is the only scientific knowledge I want to perceive!
All you so called scientist, riding the lightning like Benjamin F.
Take the bolt and tie it like a noose around your neck
Following your own perception while you feed off the sheep
Here you come to emerge to discipline us with your mind of a genius
You come and you bash us with NERD brain waves to explain!
That this world revolves around the elements and laws of scientific claims
Research this- research that- who gives a cr@p we still die at the end
While life continues, to grow and manipulate our fate, about the universe
Unsolved facts about Einstein, who left his velocity of change for us to comprehend.
Instead of trying to rule the world, explain the facts why things keep getting worse?
Over exaggerating the excitement of an Ancient Mayan 2012 discovery curse.
Bottom line you scientific quacks,
the real Celestial body is found on the bottom of my crack.
By; P.D. ( LOL, I love Science )
Poem | |
They hate you because your you
They make up lies and call it true
They're fake behind your back
Hoping someday that you'll crack.
They hate you because your real.
no matter what they say you always heal
They're surprised to see you rise,
That you're not affected by all these lies
They hate you because you smile at them
It shows them that your a real gem
You are always true and do your best :)
Sometimes these haters just cant test
They hate you for no reason
Despite it all, you smile
whatever the reason
At the end of the day
All i'm gonna say
All i plan to be
-Sanderline Fleury :)
Poem | |
My spirit and soul are trapped in this vessel of flesh. They scream to escape and to be liberated and soar on the breezes of life. To frolic freely among the trees, among the clouds and to run without weight and care.
My spirit and soul are trapped and they want to get out. Out from under all the stress and demand in life out from all the evil and hate of the world.
My spirit and soul are trapped in demand to perform, to keep a smile when I am down, to keep a stiff upper lip.
My spirit and soul are trapped to work for things and objects, to keep up with Jones and Kardashians.
My spirit and soul are trapped into believing that all men are made equal when the reality of this world says different, that only green currency is the great equalizer.
My spirit and soul are trapped into believing that single is not wholeness that it is necessary to be joined with another body to be view without stigma.
My spirit and soul are trapped in a body not acceptable because it's fat, it's woman and it's black and aging.
My spirit and soul are trapped and they are screaming to be free... screaming to reveal all the possibilities of how good life could be if I just didn't give a damn about who thinks what about me.
Poem | |
This poem wants to make a change . . .
To be a strong yet silent raised fist in Mexico, 1968.
To stand at a window w/a shotgun writing the words
“By any means necessary”
To sit in at a lunch counter in Birmingham, Alabama
Until it is read
To start a breakfast program in Compton, California
In order to feed hungry minds
To stand up for its rights in Akron, Ohio and shout,
“Aint I a poem?”
To integrate an all white book store under protection of the National Guard
And when George Wallace says to it,
“You will not enter unless it’s over my cold, dead, body. . .”
This poem will gladly take him up on his offer
But now this poem feels that perhaps it is too militant,
Maybe it and Spike should just “Do the Right Thing” . . .
Take the hand of other poems deep in the South Georgia woods and lead them to freedom
Under cover of night-light
Take its brothers and sisters out of the man’s world and
Into Aaron’s “Boondocks”
Play its own music, live in Jamaica and
Grow Nappy Locs
Start a union with A. Phillip down at the docks
Be read by Martin while being pelted with rocks
Find out what would happen
“If Beale Street Could Talk”. . .
This poem will get accused of “Ego Trippin” but
will not take it personally, declaring,
“And Still I Rise”
It will invite other poems to a free concert headlined by
Marvin, Stevie, Chuck D, and Black Thought
It will do what it should, not what others think it ought
This poem will be munificent . . .
Will give because so much has been given to it
Will do because so much has been done for it
Will be able to sit down because so many others have
But this poem can not sit still for long
Because this poem has been disenfranchised . . .
This poem was told there is no longer a need
For affirmative action
only to have it replaced with definitive inaction
This poem cast a vote in Florida,
only to be told that it did not count
This poem observed its commander in thief, fly over rising waters in the Lower Ninth Ward
just to keep his feet from getting wet
This poem watched its country expand our “melting pot” to include all types of ingredients,
Then scrape the black off the bottom of the pan . . .
and send it back to Haiti on a raft
This poem has been pulled over for being DWI
(drafted with intelligence)
This poem was profiled at Hartsfield Airport,
And made to take off it’s . . . blues.
This poem never planted any genus of Bush,
It’s not concerned with whom you marry,
Nor does it desire to trade the blood of young soldiers for oil, but look what it got
This poem wants 2 b a revolutionary . . .
Poem | |
Told my friend I was writing poems today
He responded and said I must be Gay
I am not shy and I will speak my mind
I work real hard and I bust my behind
What right does he have to speak such harsh words
We are all equal and he is absurd
I told him to take look in the mirror
What does he sees but guess what would appear
He says he don't care, he is a man's man
and that I should throw those poems in the can
So lets look at his life and we shall see
He thinks he is all that but not to me
He does not have a job, a wife, or car
He used to live close but now he is far
He doesn't like theater, opera or poems
Who is this friend that I thought I had known
If he can't accept me, who I might be
He might as well stay far away from me
for Anything goes contest