Flushed
blisters
overwhelm
sunburnt roses.
Drops holding true love
explode with rich perfume.
Heads turned by affluent notes
feed tough petals bare and cracking.
Whispers of moisture are nourishment,
a beaten down soul is now free to bloom.
We walked the lands our feet first knew
where sun carved stories into stone
where rivers whispered secrets of old
and stars counted the nights we called home.
They came with walls and laws and chains
told us our voices were too small
but the earth remembered our songs
and our hearts refused to fall.
We were shaken by fire and fear
our homes stolen, our names erased
yet in the shadow of every loss
our roots dug deeper into this place.
We rise in clicks and in whispers
in laughter, in dance, in stubborn flame
we were shaken, not beaten
our spirit forever untamed.
Why don't you just quit this nonsense
It's time to give up this very fight
He hung from that cross early morning
Until the bitter chill of the night
Strangers came by to see Him
None offered Him one bit of help
Torn, tattered and beaten
His God came to greet Him
Caressed Him and saved His Son from hell
I'm down on the ground,
My brain starts to pound,
It may not be fun,
But ten seconds aren't done.
10 seconds remain.
I still have time,
To arise again,
The timer hasnt hit ten,
Time isn't my friend,
8 seconds remain.
I punch hard, I kick,
I choke, I feel sick.
I try to yell, over the incessant chants,
This is the last time, my last chance.
Five seconds remain.
I call out, my plight.
I never wanted this fight.
I press up with all my might,
I feel progress, my eyes are losing their light.
Three seconds remain.
It all hurts, to breathe,
Under my worst foe, I am beneath.
For it is no human, it's within me.
I need to get up, to be free.
But it isn't over, I can win,
I push against that evil twin,
The sadness loses hold, I can get up.
One second remains.
Off of the beaten path
happiness hath not passed me by.
I don't question why I live in the seasons,
nature, I'm sure, has her own reasons.
One day I'm a tree the next I am free
to simply be a wisp o' the wind.
I'll never rescind the place where I dwell,
away from the swell of mortal man's wrath,
off of the beaten path!
I didn’t want to go, to school today,
I wanted to stay, and keep the bullies at bay.
I’d walk to the gates, 15 minutes late,
On a different route, to the one of my mate.
My mummy said, that you need to go,
But why should I go, when I’m feeling so low.
The bullies would wait, before and after.
I’d be pushed to the floor, which would be followed by laughter.
I like to keep feelings, and thoughts to myself,
But I can’t any longer, to protect my mental health.
I need to tell mummy, what happened today,
That I need to be strong, and throw my worries away.
Bullies never win, there’s always a reason,
They’re always the same, whatever the season.
But I am strong, and will rise above the pain,
For it’s me who will shine, and friends I will gain.
A déjà vu? What can I say?
I know the track so well.
It is so dark yet treacherous.
I am not afraid. Careful, here is a curve,
it almost turns onto itself.
An old oak tree stands there,
just off the corner. I can smell
its delicious odour or feel
its sturdy trunk, its cracked bark.
I hear the lower heavy branches
swinging slowly in the breeze.
Watch out, there's a ditch there,
dank water, that smells like drains.
And just before it a small jutting rock
that can easily help you tumble
into the murky stinking place.
Walk on, do not mind the dark
nor the screech of the nightly owl,
just mind where you step
for the ground is quite treacherous here.
It's not far now. Hear the dog
on guard, barking its warning.
Not to worry, it knows me all too well
although I cannot see it.
How can I? I'm blind.
It’s finally the day to come,
blood mixing in.
Flows like a river
through oceans of sin.
Long past the point
where the numbness was new.
Long past believing
that anything’s true.
Steel against flint,
only flash in this night.
Desperate to see
but it only ignites,
the gasoline soaked
twisted rags in my soul.
No way to stop it
and nowhere to go.
You can only get up
til the falls break your bones.
Can only lose so much
before you’re alone.
You can only give so much
and once it’s all gone…
you paint on a smile
and pretend to go on.
The wind persisted in blowing me about,
whipping the willow branches with its beat.
It continuously raged, a tempest storm,
a force of nature that never bows in defeat.
Now, its companion has soaked me through
Rain has chilled me right down to the bone.
It's brought weapons of hail, the size of plums,
pummeling me as if it were throwing stones.
My tears have mingled with drops of cold rain.
Gale force winds have taken me to my knees.
It sounds as if it's screaming my name...
I reply, "Release me from your throes, please."
If wind and rain could screech in laughter,
I'd swear I heard them cackling like witches.
My thoughts were scattered; I was filled with fear,
as wind hurled hail stones with well-aimed pitches.
I had no strength in me to fight nature's opponents.
Combined in combat, they held far too much power.
No longer could I hold either of them at bay,
I cringed and withered as if I were a wilting flower.
Here I am at the crossroads
Staring blankly at the inky dark sky
Beaten to a pulp and helpless
By forces of darkness
Here I am lying in the pool of my emotions
Clutching at every straw
To maintain sanity and stability
Here I am a victim of a system
That dehumanises her own
Here I am cloned from a contraption
Built on the foundation of impunity
Feeding her children with frustration
Here I am a victim of a country
That glamourises wrong values
And deliberately relishes
Living a lie of romantic proportion
Here I am fearful of a tomorrow
Bleak and hopeless for my children
Victims of a country gradually
Disappearing from global map of decency
She was Chinese and only eight years of age.
On the noisy school playground,I found her.
Just beaten by fists of anger, fury and rage.
By a fifth-grade, tall boy,in no way demure.
But that year, San Francisco decided to
integrate all its great schools.
I helped the girl rise from the cement ground.
When integration was born, harm and incivility!
Became the American federal de jour rule!
Sir Fists of Fury,should have been suspended.
That sweet little girl….he hurt and punched! I’m
But it went on constantly and having a soul,
My teaching career just had to be ended.
I thought of what work I could possibly do.
Filing papers for a company nearly me bored me to death
But I was in no way going back to a violent zoo.
And.as I-walked, thanked God for my soul and breath.
Life was harsh in those sad, solemn strange days.
But today’s world..”We are coming for your children?”:
Far more lost, in nightmarish, uglier immoral ways.
And as poets,why do we never pen of this then?
6/29/2023
The apes are winning because they stole the fastest bike.
We are trying to keep up, but I am riding a rusty trike.
They are mountain climbing as fast as they can.
Come on! I urge my partner. Let’s be the man!
The apes are ahead, by too many laps to count.
They are laughing the day away on the bike they mount.
I am irritated now, for they are gloating so hard.
Come on! I urge my partner. Let’s move our lard!
The apes just won the contest, and the golden prize.
I was so angry, I could barely see out of my irritated eyes.
They got the purple ribbon, and they bragged away.
Frankly, my partner has had a much better day.
I enjoy wandering off the beaten path
not knowing the path taken
nothing pressing
no schedule
moving slowly
stopping often along the way
listening to forest life
melting into nature
problems seem moot
She pretends to be alright when in truth she isn't, her smiles are fake so no one will ever know how deeply depressed she really is. All her life she has been beaten down constantly one. way or another, by her family and by life it self.
Some how she always managed to get right back up and continue to keep on living, even when she repeatedly been to hell and back. She's been abused mentally, emotionally, physically and sexually by her family.
Still she manages to continue getting right back up, even through life keeps trying to beat her down repeatedly. So e friends have told her that she is one strong woman.
Residents at her job have told her that no matter what personal problems she endured at home, she never let them affect her job. They said she always had a smile on her face, even through deep down inside she is constantly asking herself how much more does she have to suffer before she finally decides to just give up completely.
By:Vera Rice!
This year the farmers are celebrating
the greatest full moon harvest
they ever had in the past hundred years
with a special field they sowed
to be reaped before the arrival of winter,
in the meantime, off in the distance
the church bell rings by way of a clapper
who strikes the bell with a farmer's hammer
signaling to the villagers it's time for work
they all line up in procession
with grit and determination
with weather beaten faces
turned into rawhide skin,
with shovels over their shoulders
they march to the beets and to the yams
to the fields loaded with rich phosphorus deposits
that washes down from the hills into streams
that irrigate the crops into super giant
beets and yams the size of watermelons
just bulging out of the rich soil,
the farmers came to dig and dig.
They worked fast and furiously
to beat the first frost digging reaping
and piling up the yams and the beets
into several mountain peaks of yellows and purple
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