FANNING THE FLAMES
I was heavy
Weighed down
And buried by Judgment
Unintentional but hurtful just the same
Expectations of who I should be
As a daughter
As a Catholic
As a wife
As a colleague
By men
Fearful, yet domineering
Oh, the irony
That your insecurity has fueled my power
Fed the tiny coals that the women in my life
Have protected
Fanned them into flames
Fed the fire in my belly
Ignited my strength and resolve
Given birth to my voice
I am woman.
I liberate myself.
Hear me thunder!
And growl, and rage, and shout
I will no longer be judged, dismissed, hidden—
or silenced.
When Post-modernists say race or gender
Is a social construct,
They’re not really saying anything
Other than we don’t like your definitions.
Since race and gender are words
Based on conceptual classifications
They are no different than any other words.
In this way everything is a social construct
Depending on the world view of the society.
The difference in animate and inanimate?
Just a social construct.
The difference in plant and animal?
Just a social construct.
The difference in positive and negative,
Black and white, good and evil, up and down
Me and you? Just a social construct.
We live in a world of such constructs,
They allow us to function
And manipulate this world.
And yes, that includes manipulating others
If you are so inclined.
Who doesn’t live in such a distinct
And discriminating world?
The new born infant at the portal of life,
And the mentally dementiaed at the edge of death.
The rest of us, are thank goodness,
Somewhere in between.
(9/19/26)
They slide through the city quietly,
No badge, no spotlight, just that
Hush - pressure vibe that makes your
Skin read the room before your eyes do.
Unseen movers
Unseen scribes
Writing your name in places
You ain't never walked.
They draft futures in
Side-pockets,
Tuck provision in the corners of
Conversations, drop signatures in
Hush Hush.
Like chalk marks only the street can decode.
You feel 'em in the shift- that micro pause-
That air-tight moment
Where the world alters itself
And pretends it didn't.
State Actors,
No stage
No curtains,
Just corridors that rearrange when you blink
Too slow,
Scripts of the unseen, inked in obscurity,
Performed in systems
That don't need an audience to keep the
Plot running.
But You?
You walk through it rowdy
Refusing to let hidden hands
Truth and bright
Ghostwrite your fate.
Mental Illness is not a violation.
It's a human experience.
One many carry unspokenly.
The real harm is uncovered
How others respond:
The quick labels, the cold
Stares, the whispered verdicts.
A mind in toil needs support, not punishment,
Compassion, not condemnation.
Because the truth is straightforward:
The crime is in the person
Who sees the hurt and chooses to
Judge it.
the homeless man who is begging for money
most believe he must be a drug addict or convict
what if you lost your home, your job, your spouse and alone?
you could end up beside him, lost and hopeless
the cheaters, liars and dishonest people
most think they do not know or associate with them
as they sit in the church pews every Sunday
pretending to be honest, pure and holy
some are teachers, bankers, police officers
a facade to fool the best judges of character
Why should I
Be beaten and abused
I'm as delicate as a
Flower and filled with muse
Why should I
Be silent I have a
Mind and a voice
My eyes are open
With plenty to say
Why should I
Be told what to do
With my own body
It belongs to me
Not to we
I AM WOMAN
OF BOOMARANGING INJUSTICE
No, we can’t say it didn’t happen; it did!
Senate produced and White House directed.
Improvised and played out before our eyes:
And they said the revolution wouldn’t be televised.
However, just check out daily Breaking News
Of Trumpian overtures being played out in classical
Themes of constitutional comedies of errors:-
(And the beat goes on.)
Where noosing ropes once stretched
And pulled innocent necks, we must now take hands
And pull down inking votes, noosing injustice!
Now, in the present of the future’s past, we must show
That truth spat and dumped upon, shall rise again.
Come, let us throw the boomerang of reciprocity,
Shattering the bigoted “in” out of bloody injustice,
Rebirthing the mountaintop of gained justice/-
Remember, it’s better to be aware than sorry:
Our confused and abused youth are watching us:-
Let not history again reduce ourstory to footnotes:
Let us continue to rise, with our eyes still on the prize.
(Let’s not be as Sisyphus; but as Jacob.)
When you don't reflect, on cause and effect, you're leaping right to the middle
With half of the clue, apparent to you, you will never unwrap the riddle
But when you know how
Milk comes from a cow
You'll be over the moon, finish work before noon, cause you'll know cat comes before fiddle
What did you do?
Acting cool
Making VIP alpha list
Curling a fist?
Scan word floor
You may find four
Sounding good
As writings should
So, summon 'a,i,o,u'
Hush, 'I am not through'
Using this writing tool
Pointing out fools
Swimming in soup pool
Starting buzz
With its warming fuzz
Hail king
Only thing
That will sing
Following 'A', in command
Major B, who has a plan
To find a way out of this jam
My young child, I bid you good night
Now go to your room and light
Your fantasy story sight
Taking you far
Lapping any shooting star
Oh,
how
tragically
sad
it was
to look
at
the
local news
that day;
with my
coffee mug
in hand
after a
lovely night
with a
good book,
and then
I learned
that
a wooden cross
was burnt
up
at a park
before
my people
on our
shared
glorious
urban
city streets,
while uprooted
trees
and debris
fought
harshly
in the wind.
If you
have never
met me
or tried
to understand
who I am
then why
should
I value
your opinion
about who
I am
and what
I feel
as an
autistic
person
of color?
Note: Sometimes people take what I write too literally hence the need for these notes. That being said, I am not actually asking any questions with this poem. However, in the face of discrimination, this is a common internal and external monologue. If you are an autistic person of color reading this, I see you. You are brave and resilient. Do not let anyone try to break you.
I sit
and watch
while
the others
struggle
with feelings
I can't
relate to
while having
gratitude
for my
inner zen
and
hoping
they can
find a
true
friend.
Note: Inspired by a prompt from Threads user reevesandroses. The prompt given was: "Write a poem or piece inspired by hardship." So I decided to write about what I see when observing communities I'm not part of, and how the in-group excludes someone with similarities to me on purpose. It's often the case that the person being excluded is neurodivergent. "Inner zen" in this context refers to the lack of anxiety felt on my end, due to me not allowing myself to blindly follow along with group think.
AN ICYMORONIC POETIC FREEFLOW
ICE, living its coldness,
In ice-cold bloody murder, Ice-cold bloody murder;
Coloured accents iced:- Cancelling out free lives;
Even native borns iced out; Executing liberty:
Due to their disposition:
Oximoronic!
Ice-cold murder is legal:
A country stolen and founded by immigrants
Can now freely ice-out people they call immigrants:-
This fool
is out
of his
doggone
mind.
Think he's
mad because
his father
left him
behind.
His mom
deserves
more than
a hateful,
useless son.
He will
experience
heavy karma
in more ways
than one.
Another poem about a misogynist who believes that women who've been in the mental healthcare system are undeserving of love. He condescended to SA/DV survivors for bravely sharing their experiences, and I wanted to show support for those women by writing this poem. Remember, ladies: if it happened to you, I believe you. And I want you to know that it wasn't your fault! Never let anyone tell you that it was and continue to hold your head up high. There is a special place in the depths for men who speak to women so rudely.
Moving on doesn't magically fix injustice
They say, "Move on" like pain's a switch,
Like an interval of time alone alters that
Glitch.
But scars don't fade; incitement they insist-
Moving on doesn't magically fix inequity.
You walk forward, still feel the bruise,
Still hear the fabrication they tried to use.
Healing ain't concealing what they dismissed-
Moving on doesn't magically fix injustice.
Discrimination Categories
Definition | What is Discrimination in Poetry?
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.
Related Poetry Forms
intolerance, inequity, favoritism, bigotry, prejudice, injustice, unfairness, hatred, wrong, partiality, bias, taste, subtlety, sense, differentiation, decision, acumen, keenness, clearness, perception, understanding, refinement, penetration, preference, separation, difference, judgment, perspicacity, discernment, sagacity, acuteness, shrewdness, distinction, astuteness, percipience, astucity,