Best Bias Poems
Justice
Justice
Colorblind love
Equality for all
Embrace mankind by character.
Treat others as you want to be treated.
Stand up for the rights of all men.
Speak up against bias.
Rise together!
Justice
Submitting into Give me a Rictameter! Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: M. L. Kiser
Date: 02/14/2022
I forgive the stars sleeping in nothingness,
too afraid to embrace eclipsed spheres…..
In the midst of sweltering gloaming,
I ascend, obscured and tarnished,
like a tainted trinket lost
in the tangerine haze.
For I’ve long been burning
from the coals of stigma~
stamping labels upon troubled torrents,
using malignant metals,
mirroring the fear within lichen eyes,
consumed by ancient
arrows of anguish~
from the era of Hercules and Midas.
But if only they knew, there is
no remedy for the jaded jewels that
refuse to sparkle,
for my purity remains unseen in
growing darkness,
oblivious to the liquid gold
that flickers compassion,
as they see not
beyond their fractured vision.
O distorted colors of the sun,
I’m not your perplexed perspective;
I breathe in hues of humanity,
infused with luminous lavender.
I’m not a Medusa siren luring you
to serpentine rocks;
I swim in chromatic, evanescent streams,
brimming with blissful bioluminescence,
illuminating my way under the midnight sky.
I’m not the suffocating wintry winds
freezing oxygen in your lungs.
While it seems your tongue is silenced
and tied to the twisted strings
of broken instruments,
I ink words of hope and
empathy upon your cynical skin.
I am more than the blind rage
seeping in fury.
I’m not a heartless harpy
screeching into the emptiness~
drenched in despair,
pushing boundaries to
the ends of the earth.
I am Atlas holding the world on
his shoulders,
I am the glistening stars aching
to touch the silver ring around
the jasmine moon.
But life is like a helix fixated
on unconscious bias,
constantly critical of diverse dialects,
watching me struggle to stand
under the weight of pressure,
knees buckling as your assumptions
lacerate me, breaking me down,
burying me in your ruthless riddles.
I feel rumbling dirt beneath
my bleeding feet.
My sarcophagus is rising,
built from your putrid ideals of me.
Losing footing, I refuse to fall into
the seething seas of sorrow.
So remember, I was never
the soulless monster hiding
beneath your ignorant bed.
But I am now the skeletons
etched within the cataclysmic
aftermath of your
shallow misconceptions.
Written: September 08, 2024 For Edward Ibeh Contest
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He has blue eyes and lovely blond hair,
Curls rose above his pink and pretty ware.
Do not mention his background or affairs,
With Africa by people who settled there.
His father's family tree has extensive roots,
Has Swedish, Cajun French, and British limbs.
Grafts from Choctaw and Cherokee wood routes,
That got some black stems from long-time whims.
His mother comes from a Creole background,
Descendants of a native African tribe.
Parentage from France and Spain was found,
And mingled with Bayou Indians and more vibe.
Because intolerance and hatred confine,
They also obstruct the expansive plain.
Therefore, bigots are vindictive and supine,
It is only clear to observe the gutter drain.
There are no pleasant views of the spleen,
There are no cloverfields or rolling greens.
Restricted minds lack the ability to see,
a breathtaking panorama of the scene.
And biased men with pretentious pride,
While in white, they become narrow-eyed.
who despise Blacks, Jews, and Native side,
They are completely sealed and closed inside.
Religion in the public square is becoming an endangered species. - Mathew Staver
the lavender moon, in silhouettes of blue
paint my thoughts in melodies,
hues of grace and gentle peace, silent flow
tulips, roses, lilies blowing in the wind,
who breaths her hope across the meadow,
laughing, dancing, singing wistful
in trembling verses, stirring the delicious
vision of gifted words, healing
hopes that break away from the past
shatter the shadows with an overcast sky,
burdened by melancholic gray,
broken by the memories who prey
on the spirit, the soul, the wisdom of a knowing…
dressed in aster’s kiss, flames of gold
hesitating, burning away the doubts,
flavoring the heart with a feeling,
flowing beyond the still, cool crispness
autumn’s elation, praising, amazing
chanting to the moon, the stars
blessing the thoughts of those who hear her,
whispering, rustling through September,
passing by the rust colored truths,
embracing the silence and erasing the fear,
who comes to those hearts
listening to the rarest crackling of a tear,
edged in grief, distant calamity…
testing the waters, challenging the thoughts
who hear her mysteries,
unconscious bias, darkening the wings
who soar over the dreams,
fighting back the urge
to forget the joy that sees
through the catastrophic brink
insanity, the folly
beneath the doubts, the fears
tears blended with salty songs,
quietly pleading, praying, praising
because He is never wrong
His love leaves the moment calm,
soothes away the distant panic,
replacing her phobia
with assurance… He is silent,
while blessings fall over the spirit,
in secret promises, forever
written on the heart who sees Him,
in the secret places, always
saving souls from the darkness
of eternity without hope,
eternity without love…
unconscious bias tells me, forever
I’ll sing the song of thanksgiving
because, with this love He reveals
I know what it is to be fulfilled,
I know what it is to be assured,
I know what it is to be loved,
with love that is my soul’s joy,
love that is the moment I knew
the light of the world,
the light that is pure,
the light that glows so I know
the wonder of reflecting the love
that grows and grows…
so I know – He is living, deep in my soul!
In
debate-
assumptions
turned into
facts
Unconscious bias can upset one's heart
if kin or friends might shun your written art-
to look upon good poetry as play-
negating words that might uplift their day.
Some think of poetry as silly writes
that jumble words and do not meet the rights
to be upheld as literary worth-
with any thoughtful meanings to unearth.
Perhaps poetic metaphors give pause
and render writers void of earned applause.
Ambiguity somehow dismisses sense;
unconscious bias- inborn to commence.
Most poets may unveil views quite obscure
that sometimes deems their sanity unsure
by those who harbor this unconscious fact-
and hold back ways by which they should react.
We're thankful other poets read our art
with no unconscious bias on their part.
They understand the nuances displayed
in chosen thoughts so artfully conveyed.
men used facilities at Starbucks
but staff took an offence at their looks
policemen were called out
arrested without doubt
now staff being referred to guide book.
Her name is familiar, most
Everyone knows her, well, not the
REAL Her:
Because I can't prove what
I know to be true, she gets
Away with
Snubbing me in her contests
Many times I've thought about confronting her
About it, but why bother when
She’s not going to admit it or change? She'll
Keep doing it, her mask of fairness, her shield
7/21/11
for "It's mask time" contest
Susan Burch
It's a rather complicated experience to explain
on paper, but I shall make my best attempt.
Some years ago, there was a Presidential candidate.
I shall make my point without any identifications.
So much of who we are and how we think lie beneath
the surface and often go undetected by us and others.
Case in point. For no apparent reason that I detected,
a friend, thinking that I would be biased toward a certain
candidate made a baseless and prejudicious assumption
and informed me why I should not vote for that candidate.
My friend did not realize we were supporting the same
person, never bothering to ascertain such valuable
information. She was not mean-spirited and felt close
enough to me to allow her such freedom of expression.
She never realized that her attempt at pointing me away
from what she considered to be the wrong direction was
in bad taste. I think that because she was much older,
I decided not to confront her with the issue.
To be biased is blinding. By definition, it is to have an
undue propensity for something. I suspect that if her
assumption was a legitimate one, her mission to change
my way of thinking would have been justified.
However, she relied on the historical data of the media
and placed me in a certain category. In so during, I became
a statistical entity and not a personal friend with a mind
of his own. Ironically, she was blind to my lack of bias.
My plight
Daily I cry for no reason to purge my heart,
In the depth of wealth that my soul wailed.
Most in thoughts reason for the lost of my bread,
The significance of omotoyikogbon with a fulfilled heart.
No day went by that my face is not frown,
The course of which is well known.
The evil in human nature,
One which our hearts daily nurture.
Yet all undercover with the religious rites,
That our laws are bend to suit the majority sects.
Ah where is the fate of the minority?
Here it is laid in the grave of purity.
Even pagans are more worthy than them,
Than what they tend to claim.
Dear great lord when are you coming back?
Come so soon for our breath is deep in the dark.
Governing with two
Opposing branches, bias
Inevitable
That Dunning-Kruger thing is real;
I’ve read about it once or twice,
And so my grasp, I clearly feel,
Of how it works is quite precise.
Bias Oswell writes
Of an aching heart
Stinging from years
Of childhood when
He felt unwanted,
Alone, placed in
Foster homes and
Sometimes forgotten.
Bias Oswell found
Himself in poetry
Writing about times
When he was lost
But now is here,
A talented young
Man so deserving
Of being recognized.
Write on,
Bias Oswell!
partialitiy's myopia
only sees things before their eyes
Truth beyond bias in belief and perception
Counter Intuitive
To be me Or not to be
Practice makes perfect Boredom fosters sloppiness
Try to be happy all the time Full range of emotions fulfills.
Improving your weaknesses Focus on what you are best at
Always just be yourself Adapt, change in response to others
Pick me, I'm such a beauty All that glitters is not gold
Work less to achieve more Taking a break, wastes your time
Failure is a setback drudge Trial and error a win out need
Giving is better than receiving Rewarding oneself is fulfilling
Less is more, easier to choose Less to choose from you miss the best one
First impressions are reliable Snap judgments are biased by your failings
When investments fail cut your losses Keep investing until you turn the corner
Trying too hard voids success Success comes through perseverance
Least competent overstate their ability Highly skilled understate competence
All medicines have a placebo effect Distrust medicines until they work
Being less obsessed, detached wins out Success comes by focusing on your goals
Spend more to save more, buy quality Buy cheap, good things, nothing lasts forever.
No luck in success, just hard work The more you try the luckier you become.