Best Bigotry Poems | Poetry

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Kiboshed by Bigotry by Anderson, John
Prejudice and Bigotry Horn Haiku by Horn, James
RELIGIOUS BIGOTRY by Morada, Meadow
Literacy Beyond The Bigotry Of Classrooms by Makama, Funom
Bigotry by Pinet, Emile
PLASTIC BAG PREJUDICE AND BIGOTRY by Beck, Sidney
BIGOTRY by Crisci, Andrew

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The Best Bigotry Poems

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Mankind's Greatest Mystery (inspired by Chris Higgins)

If 2012 prophesies prove true
And Earth’s life cycles again renew
Mysteries of man will be more than a few

Challenges may await future life forms
With intellects far surpassing our norm
Created to live without doing harm

For if they decipher man’s history
What will they make of our great mystery
The one we refer to as bigotry

Black labs, gold retrievers live side by side
Wild stallions and mustangs on prairies ride
Both red ants and black, free to colonize

Man’s refusal to accept differences
To wiser beings may make no sense
What in man’s makeup can give it credence?

Earth’s subsequent creatures may reproduce
Not needing two sexes to call a truce
So mating rituals may be pursued

A single-sex species might not comprehend
Why women workers were paid less than men
And why “free speech” was not just a given

Questions would most certainly arise
How a believer in God denies
Rights to free worship without compromise

And how could so many wars be waged
Evoking God’s name in death-march crusades
With killing, torturing in every age

Indeed such mysteries in man’s history
Would leave a perplexing legacy
Sure to confound any new species

New cultures may thrive on diversity
Of religion and genealogy
And speak of our inferiority


Note:  This is dedicated to Christopher Higgins whose poems about prejudice inspire readers 
to do more than just think about one of the greatest ills in our society.


Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2009


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Labels

You tell me that my love is not real
You tell me that my love needs to be more concrete
More box that I should fit into
More small manageable pieces
That are easier to swallow
But I can't just do that
When explaining my sexual orientation
It is so easy to say not straight
Not straight is easy to understand
Not straight is just the opposite of straight
But not straight 
Does not feel right
Because sexuality is so much more
Than male and female
Gay and straight
It may be hard to understand 
But some people don't fit into those labels
Some people reject labels
Labels are meant to be on boxes and not people anyway
I am not a box
I am not some pretty little package
That you can just name and make it so
I am a kaleidoscope
A brightly colored mosaic
Changing with each twist and turn
I am a beautiful cascade of emotion
Rushing over the cliff of hate
To wash away all the bigotry
I am a fire
Raging with a passion to share with the world
I am pansexual
I love all people
No that does not make me a slut
No that does not mean I will date anyone
What it does mean is that I will give you a chance
I will see how we can coexist
I will show you the love that we all deserve
Not as male or female
Or gay and straight
But as human beings




Copyright © Brittany Larson | Year Posted 2015


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A Divided Nation

Confined in one boundary, living together showing different reactions in changing weather. Stabbing each other, hoping to reach same destiny creating a stumbling block as the way, what an Irony. Loving outsiders in possession of a different gene to the point patriotism withers and becomes lean. It is time for one side to enjoy the rain then the other sits and curses in envious pain. Hatred and marginalization then becomes the trendy skill compressing the mind, even to the point to kill. Nepotism and bigotry are fertilized to cause so much evil interaction between distant compatriots liable to be far from civil. One nation, one people, if this family can together not see then for humanity sake, let everyone simply be. Separation entices, building up the end enemies of each other, yet can attempt a mend. Seeing through the binoculars of what lies tomorrow love, patience and unity, there’s a need to borrow. Diversity is a blessing, like departments of a college one can function as the nutrient, the others as the roughage.


Copyright © Funom Makama | Year Posted 2016


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Way back when I was ten

A canopy of innocence, invisible to me
hung over playful joy shielding all that would come to be.
The world was mud and grass and trees, oh, puddles,swings and bikes
shrieking, shouting, rampant running anywhere we liked.
A watchful eye as we ran by from neighbours way back when
our life we weaved in make-believe, way back when I was ten.

Fights and tears did not last long if anyone fell out
back to being friends next day, the rift forgot about.
We romped and larked, new friendships sparked wherever we would hang
our open door to rich and poor within our merry gang.
No hatred spite or bigotry existed  in us then
for that was what the grown-ups did, way back when I was ten.

I'd often wander by myself for hours through the fields
and check the schoolhouse orchard, help myself to what it yields.
Blindly unafraid, there were no barriers to me
'till twilight fell, exploring everything that I could see.
No warnings from our elders about talking to strange men
the world seemed a much safer place way back when I was ten.

Just like my photo album, everything seemed black and white,
a mother's touch could heal the world, make everything alright.
Dad put food on table, Mum made sure our stomach's full
safe in our family unit we all felt invincible.
Sometimes I look around and think how nice to go again
back to that summer bubble where I lived when I was ten.

For contest 'Way back when I was ten', sponsor Kelly Deschler


Copyright © Viv Wigley | Year Posted 2016


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Joan of Arc, For God and Country

Joan of Arc – For God and Country
On the feast of the Three Kings was born, a baby girl, in 1412, under the sign of Capricorn. Destined to accomplish great deeds and achieve fame, Joan d’Arc was her auspicious name. A religious and political scapegoat, her short life to God and country she did devote. Fervently spurred by heavenly voices, Joan’s fate was guided by singular choices. She avidly believed in her mystical visions, and was obsessed to fulfill her divine mission.
Each night she prayed, “Oh God, save France,” until at last she was granted the perfect chance. Leaving her family and the village of Domremy, she pursued her destiny to defeat France’s enemy. The “Maid of Orleans” with religious fervor and zeal took a vow of chastity and her fate was solidly seal. During the Hundred Years’ War, she took up sword and banner; mounted on a white horse, arrayed in a white suit of armor. Leading the French army to a momentous victory, her rousing battle cry was, “For God and country.”
Abandoned by King Charles the VII and betrayed in the end, she was burnt at the stake by French collaborators and English men. Accusing her of witchcraft, heresy, and for dressing like a man, at age 19, her life was all over according to their devious plan. But even though her light was snuffed out by hatred and bigotry, her exemplary courage and strength helped to unify her country. Joan of Arc, a simple peasant girl, became a woman warrior, and to the world a symbol of conviction, fortitude, and true valor. Canonized a saint by Pope Benedict XV 500 years later, Joan was named Patron Saint of France, rape victims, prisoners, and martyrs.


Copyright © Pandita Sanchez | Year Posted 2015


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America, Why Did You Stray?

America, why did you stray from the old way.
A constitution put forth, the foundation of our land,
barely recognizable what was originally Jefferson's hand.
Tarnished and smudged by misinterpretation,
overindulgence and greed, to satisfy political,
judicial, and journalistic need.
Once majority rule, now bordering on ridicule,
the law of the land, ever changing, meeting demands,
of whoever takes a stand.

America, why did you stray, parents unable to discipline,
fear children undisciplined now rule, school in chaos,
students unruly, guaranteed to pass, unprepared for their future,
parents unsure, wish for the past, hope the next generation,
won't be like the last.

America, why did you stray, streets used to be a place to play,
neighbors knew one another, socialized every day,
doors left unlocked, nothing to fear, families stayed close,
helped one another, took care of mother.

Now drugs rule the day, hate and crime more common than play,
multiple locks symbolic of today, rarely talk to a stranger,
living in fear; life no longer precious, taken away,
day after day, the bloody count rises, a country in crisis,
victims pay, guilty appeal, courts give them the best deal.
Nobody protests for victims rights, put a murderer to death,
they scream all night.

America, why did you stray, hatred and bigotry alive 
and well today, nationalities split, long for the old way,
when an American, was just an American, now hyphenation,
the accepted way.

America, why did you stray, once an industrial giant
you gave it away, too high a standard for industry to pay,
moved out of country, the new American way, unemployment,
poverty, homelessness rapidly increasing, ruined lives,
while billions are spent on so called allies.

America, why did you stray, what's written today,
barely address the wrongs building every day,
religion is accepted, God is not,
country divided, politically split,
presidential bashing provides journalistic wit,
hatred and bigotry, live for it.

America why did you stray, new chapters every day,
really a damn shame.


Copyright © Mac McGovern | Year Posted 2010


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I Don't Need You

Know that you can sleep well if I’m not right Grabbing anything to brace my border Instead of this time fixed to pick a fight Getting lost in your twisted disorder
Grabbing anything to brace my border When you carry on with your bigotry Getting lost in your twisted disorder You think it’s a joke when you laugh at me
When you carry on with your bigotry It isn’t just me who can see right through You think it’s a joke when you laugh at me I’ve nothing to prove anymore to you
It isn’t just me who can see right through My insecurity is miles away I’ve nothing to prove anymore to you I love me more today than yesterday
My insecurity is miles away I give you an earned twenty cent goodbye I love me more today than yesterday Before you bury me I have to try
I give you an earned twenty cent goodbye Instead of this time fixed to pick a fight Before you bury me I have to try Know that you can sleep well if I’m not right
5/19/2016 Musical Pantoum - 10 syllable count Favorite Band: Goldfinger Songs used: 1. If I’m Not Right 2. Anything 3. Pick a Fight 4. Disorder 5. Carry On 6. You Think It’s a Joke 7. It Isn’t Just Me 8. Nothing To Prove 9. Miles Away 10. More Today Than Yesterday 11. Twenty Cent Goodbye 12. Bury Me.


Copyright © Lukas Ficklin | Year Posted 2016


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The View From Where I Stand

I’ve an anger which cannot be hidden!
A burning passion that comes unbidden!
My Soul desolated with grievous rage,
reacts with furious justified outrage!

Occasioned by the offences of ignorance,
bigotry, discrimination and intolerance!
Though evil are the ravages of vandalism,
they pale to the magnitude of racialism!

Colour, creed, even the shape of the eye
is little enough to make bigots cry:
“He’s not of us!  He’s a different breed!”
“Watch him close or he’ll do us an ill deed!”

There is no cause for remarks such as these,
but pestilent views are like a disease!
Some ill chosen words expressed in vague
terms, insinuate like a fatal plague!

Ethnic slurs in the guise of humour, fester!
With but one angry response one protester,
can incite more slander, which raging out of hand,
foments a backlash! Runs rampant!  Inflames the land!

But racism is a sword with a two edged blade!
It cleaves not only those on whom it’s laid
but those who scorn to curb their vicious tongue
from whom such defamatory words have sprung!

Can we not accept those who are not as us?
Must we blame the innocent for the fuss
instigated by such biased perception?
Let us quash ignorance at its inception,

or by default we shall be guilty too!
By using diverse conceits we construe
to make imprudent acts lawful decrees!
While disregarding all impassioned pleas

for tolerance!   Unless we denounce this blight,
or take a stand and with fortitude, to fight
and end disharmony, discord and dislike!
Racialism and hatred will flourish alike!

Rhymer April 1st, 2017.


Copyright © Denis Barter | Year Posted 2017


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CONSIDER THEN



News flash
Paris attacks;
Violence strikes

~~~~~~~~~


Innocent deaths
Terror unveils;
Death delivers

~~~~~~~~~


Madness conspires
Human debris;
Bigotry unleashed

~~~~~~~~~


Evil men scheme
Distorted agendas;
Self-destruct roams

~~~~~~~~~


Good people die
Bloodbath escalates;
Terror unleashed

~~~~~~~~~


Signs of our times
Deceptive turbulence;
Mortal casualties

~~~~~~~~~


Moods swayed
Fear catapults;
Distorted means

~~~~~~~~~


Uneasy chimes
Violent crimes;
Explosive times!

~~~~~~~~~


Details of gore
News galore;
Killing fest

~~~~~~~~~


Retribution
Constitution;
Revolution

~~~~~~~~~


Sorrow sums
Deadly outcomes;
Cruelty strikes

~~~~~~~~~


Newsprint copy
Headline news;
Terror firms madness 

~~~~~~~~~


Propaganda hurls
People fodder;
Bombs and bullets

~~~~~~~~~


Create if you must
Lodge your complaint;
Body bags not included!

~~~~~~~~~


Atrocities 
Exclusive news;
Pain sells well

~~~~~~~~~


Face to face
Terror redecorates;
Body debris trophies

~~~~~~~~~


Why do you do
The things you do?
Tell me

~~~~~~~~~


Love hurts
Violence hurts;
We all hurt

~~~~~~~~~


Precious times
Ransoms forfeit;
Sad humanity mourns

~~~~~~~~~


The cycle of circles
Bad and good;
Seeking balance

~~~~~~~~~


Maybe we can
Find tomorrow;
Safely better?

~~~~~~~~~




Leon Enriquez
15 November 2015
Singapore


Copyright © Leon Enriquez | Year Posted 2015


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Lovelore

What is love?

The North Star guiding
a lost seafarer home
or the Siren’s song luring
him to the rocky shores?
Is it frolicking in the moonlit 
nights in a field of flowers
or trudging across
an arid, scorching desert?
Is it a freeway to bliss and joy
or a meandering trail
through a rugged terrain
of grief and woe?
Is it a cup of hemlock
or a chalice of nectar?
Is it a snake pit
or a bridge over the chasm
of hatred and bigotry?
Is it an ever-elusive mirage
or the rock of Gibraltar?

Love is all that and more
and yet it’s nothing,
A mere emotion, a feeling,
At first blush, irrelevant 
and yet it’s an impetus, a catalyst--
An euphoria permeating our entire being.

It is here, it is there,
and it is everywhere...
Yet, it is nowhere!
It creates mayhem and chaos
if it turns and walks away.

Love knows no boundaries,
It follows no customs or creed;
It cares not for any
race or language.

Not unlike air and water
or the enlivening sunlight--
Vital in good measures
devastating in excess,
Vexing as a thorn but
as enticing as the fragrance.

Love is but love!

No one has seen it
Yet everyone is touched by it,
Its constant presence is overwhelming
Yet you’ll never find
if you go looking for it,
It traverses distant shores,
Yet it doggedly never
leaves your threshold.

You are born with it
but never can you own it,
Forever it hovers around you
but never can you rein it in.

“Love is a many-splendored thing”.
Yet none can explain its true meaning,
It would call through a bullhorn
and you may not hear it,
It merely whispers in your ears
and turns your life topsy-turvy,
More furious than the flowing lava
It would give you the chills if provoked.

He indeed is a poor soul
bereft of hopes and dreams
who befriendeth not love!



~05/02/16
~Free Verse on Love contest by Laura Loo

~"Love turns the world around"
contest by Nayda Ivette Negron


Copyright © Abdul Malik | Year Posted 2016


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Sheltered

We stood hand over heart as the flag was unfurled
We were sheltered from the real world
All men are created equal is what they did teach
Never realizing, they don’t practice what they preach
Who said poor? We were rich beyond our dreams
Working to make ends meet, endlessly, it seems
There were Italians and Jews, Lithuanians and Greeks
Puerto Ricans and Poles, Germans and Dutch
No matter what your nationality or color was
We were neighbors. So, it didn’t matter much
I have memories of neighbors walking in our front door
Nobody knocking, just dropping in
I have memories of children playing on the parlor floor
Nobody judging the color of skin
Our riches were neighbors. Affluence carried no weight
We were sheltered from bigotry, sheltered from hate
God bless the children who knew neither hatred nor fear
God damn the people who brought those things here
When there is acceptance beyond what the eyes see
Then perhaps we can call this the land of the free
When there is truly no master and truly no slave
Then perhaps we can call this the home of the brave
We need to see the unity we’ve not had in the past
If we continue to hate, our country can’t last
If the American people can stand side by side
Then we can restore our American pride
When we stand together, again we’ll be strong
And we can be sheltered from all that was wrong


Copyright © Vince Suzadail Jr. | Year Posted 2009


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Dinner Is Served

Your cup is filled with anger. Always a bitter brew to be swallowed Revenge will be your soup de jour. It is a soup that is best served cold Disappointment sits congealing on your dinner plate. It rots the gut Condemnation sits aside the rest. Quick to jump on the plate Deceit rounds out the meal. Bits of meanness too tough to talk your way through Bigotry is a bread that when left to rise will overrun the pan Jealousy is your just desserts. A green sour grape confection bit


Copyright © Paula Swanson | Year Posted 2010


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New Year 366 Page 60b

Compassion II

A Million Suns may light your sky
A Joyful Gathering makes you feel high
A Morning Star may seem too much
A Blazing Sun we'd love to touch
Compassion II though we all must show
With the lords help it will be so

Frank

There was a young man named Frank
Who loved to play the odd prank
He thought it a joke
His siblings to poke
Till his mum gave his bottom a spank

Ignorant

As a child I played with a boy in my street
Every day outside we would meet
We'd play with a football and kick it so hard
Then one day it landed in a ladies yard
He went to ask if we could have it back
In not very nice words she said he was black
I ran home and told my mum what she had said 
My mother said she was ignorant but when I went to bed
I thought about it and new she was right
That for his friendship I may have to fight
For I knew that he was the same as me
Glad I am not to be swayed by that woman's bigotry
How will this bigotry ever die
I not sure but with God's help we must try

Days To Go

One hundred and seventy four days to go
Then the end figure then I'll show
It’s all downhill from here
Three sixty six poems is long gone I fear
Thanks to all you who read
Thanks you all I'll succeed

Six Hundred

Wow well today is the day
Six hundred verses have come your way
So for those of you who read them all?
Thankyou seems so very small
Yet the year has days to go
So onward we go still words to show


Copyright © Owen Yeates | Year Posted 2016


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Another Slice Please



A slice of Americana
love their Mar-a-Lago cream cheese pastry
immorality a lot
They crave their leadership cake ...
spin-sugar batter laced, 
full of vulgarities and obscenities
in a profanity pot
Call truth to them: 
this is guaranteed to give your soul gut rot
Response be a fork crooked limb:
give us another slice please, we love it a lot!
Politically incorrect gluttonous fake bakery eaters
admire a misogynist strong, dictatorial leader
Someone who demeans women,
flush their feminine dignity down the toilet
Strip their honor bare and sewage transport it
Mar-a-Lago Café got a line out the door
that adore the pungent immorality smell of this
Let Trump blow freedom a snot rag kiss,
Mr. Booga Man do autocratic Aryan insist 
Sour cream de la spoiled cheese,
oh how they love it so ...
Begging the Prez Fuhrer’s pardon, yo — 
they’re neo-Nazi-ing for another slice please
Getting soul gout ...
selling their empty calories
conservative principles out
Mar-a-Lago decadent immorality
served by the hateful spoonful, no doubt
Cream cheese colored bigotry
Very Berry White crooning
on the karaoke vanilla jukebox grapevine
Take one last slice before democracy closing time
But you didn’t hear it from us black raisins,
standing in the back of a separate cafeteria line   




Copyright © Freddie Robinson Jr. | Year Posted 2018


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What Kind of People Are We

What Kind of People Are We

In a Shakespearean sense of tragedy and doubt the well-used
“To Be or Not To Be” from Hamlet is not the question I shall
discuss in this narrative. Rather, I shall consider a few things
concerning the current Middle Eastern and European migrant
situation that has riveted the attention of the countries in those
regions as well as the rest of the world. And it’s my opportunity
to reflect on some of the things that have occurred (and are still
occurring right now), that I find quite troubling and morally 
offensive to me as concerned person and citizen.

As a writer and poet, and as a moral human being, I can say
that I was truly shocked at the sight of an innocent, young Syrian 
refugee boy named “Aylan Kurdi,” who had drowned and was lying 
face down on a Turkish beach near a resort with his head turned
slightly on its right side, as the ebb and flow of the salted waves
pushed and pulled on his little body. A real tragedy for sure that
might have been prevented, if humane, responsible, and responsive
migrant immigration policies had been in place so his father
would not have been compelled to put his wife and both of his 
sons—who all drowned together—on that fateful boat at the very
mercy of ruthless and evil human traffic smugglers.

The horrendous scenes played over and over on the 24-hour news 
cycle of the migrants and their innocent children from Syria, Iraq, 
Turkey, Afghanistan, and other countries being treated like cattle
(or even less than cattle), and indiscriminately pushed around and
tear-gassed by unfriendly and unwelcoming jack-booted Hungarian 
Rendorség (Police) were certainly most shocking and disgustingly 
revulsive by both their malicious tenor and insidious intent. The
actions also of some right-wing Hungarian demonstrators hurling
loud and abusive comments at the refugees was also quite tragic
and disturbing. I found the actions of the Hungarian Police under
the direction of Prime Minister Viktor Orban to be similarly
reminiscent of the actions of Hitler’s Gestapo and Sturmabteilung
or the SA Troops after 1933 in Nazi Germany. Shame on them!
Shame on them! This is the same old tired bigotry and stupidity
on display today.

Despite these despicable actions of the Hungarian Police and many 
of Mr. Orban’s governmental officials, a number of Hungarian
citizens still showed their kindness and humanity in helping the
migrants at various junctures on the autobahn as they trekked
toward the Austrian border in route ultimately to Germany. This
caught my obvious attention as well.

For me, the “so-what?” here turns ultimately upon the following
philosophical and human question: “What Kind of People Are We?”
The migrant problem as we know is largely the result of the massive
displacement of people that has occurred (and is still occurring) in
in the war-torn countries in the Middle East and in certain areas of
Southeast Asia. This tragedy is one of many of our world’s current
and future 21st-century challenges. How each of us as “concerned 
citizens,” in consonance with the policies and actions of the various
governments in the countries we each live under, will certainly
play a role in reflecting in the end the kind of people we really are. 

For me, the nationalistic actions of the right-wing parties and
extremists, in many countries (including the United States) and 
particularly now in Europe, provide no real solution at all, and 
become a convenient excuse for many people to forsake their
conscience and basic humanity—and to stick their heads in the 
sand like a bunch of frightful ostriches lost in the reveries of
their hate and prejudice, and disgraceful cowardice! There can
be no apology and justification for this ever! This type of
behavior is a deep-seated cancer ever-lurking in the genes of 
our human society and in mankind’s soul—awaiting its chance
to metastasize and reek its horrible destruction upon its victims.  

The point I’m driving at is this: The current responsible actions
of a number of world leaders, to particularly highlight those of
the European Union, appear to be taking several of the right steps 
in helping these refugee migrants and their families undergoing
this terrible strife forced upon them by the tyranny of war and the
resultant poverty and dislocation. Being stupid, hateful, and clearly
prejudiced as some people and certain governmental leaders are in
our global community today is not the answer and it never will be!

To people who really do care about this ongoing migrant tragedy,
it’s time to rally and act in support of local, regional, and worldwide
efforts to help these migrant people and their families so afflicted
by poverty, disease, war, injury, death, and territorial displacement. 

For me, I desire to make my voice heard loud and clear as a writer,
poet, and concerned world citizen on this matter and in my own
most humble way. Keep in mind that many of us are descendants
of families who at one time or another were migrants from other
countries escaping the whip and lash of cruel dictators and their
terrible regimes masquerading as legitimate governments of the
people. 

In my estimation, the kind of people we should be or aspire to be
are those who relish the winds of freedom, the certainty of justice,
the spirit of friendship, the values of fairness and fair play, the
magnificence of humanity, the desire for cultural diversity and
inclusion, and the love of our fellow man under the very eyes
of God Himself. 

What kind of people are we? With this, I rest my case. 

Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved,
September 11, 2015 (Narrative)


Copyright © Gary Bateman | Year Posted 2015


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Our world Today

Why is it in this world People never can agree There’s bigotry, prejudice and hatred Around us, so clear that all can see People argue and fight to prove That there way is correct With no room for compromise To them there is no doubt That they are the chosen ones They speak with their God direct Who has given them a special right To denounce others who would dare, Question the infallibility, of one so fair Expect no justice, peace or freedom to exist It never can, it never will, until we can agree Were not just nations but a world-wide community That looks after all its peoples where ever they may be Which ensures that all respect the rights of humanity


Copyright © Brian Armstrong | Year Posted 2015


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to be young, gifted and black

Paul writes to Timothy, his young Christian prodigy
about what it takes to possess total spirituality
and how to go about getting your heart's desires
by be surrounded by those who have already aspired
someone to whom you can look up to who'll always have your back
a mentor to guide you on the right spiritual track
someone who'll encourage you to further succeed
someone who will push you and on your behalf will intercede

when it comes to the culture of being young, gifted and black
white racists will try anything to knock you off your track
they are still stuck on that Mandingo-slave mentality
they're still intimidated by a black man's superiority
we're faster, we're stronger and they now know we're just as smart
they'll attempt to keep us down and not allow us to make a head start
we're survivors and on little we have learned to live
be it the worst homes, jobs or whatever rations the slave master did give
society is under the misconception
that anything black has a bad reputation
but being black has power and the world needs to see
that a black man was the leader of all Christianity

Paul informs Timothy that of him he was proud
for Timothy had gotten the best traits from his ancestral crowd
he reminded him that his belief system was a blessed legacy
with a strength of faith that was passed down through his family
a true anointing was handed down
a Godly commitment in Timothy had been found

as adults and mentors it's up to us to be about truth
and not to be fronting not act pretentious to our youth
we need to be sincere in our criticism and in our praise
and remember as youths the hell we ourselves once raised

to be young, to be gifted and to be black
to know that there's nothing in this world that you can't hack
God gave you the power and capability
to face any challenge that comes before thee
God gave you His pure and unconditional love
so don't let anyone tell you that you're not good enough
God gave you a sound and functioning mind
with the ability to learn and the means to climb
God does not go about giving His children the spirit of fear
for a scared person can't function in this atmosphere

so go out and cultivate relationships through your shared faith
don't let the world hinder you with its bigotry and hate
you have intelligence and a survivor's skills
just let your will be God's will
God's grace has endowed you with a special knack
because you're young, you're gifted and blessed to be black


Copyright © louise nelson | Year Posted 2007


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Now And Then And Now Again

                   1
Though still within our infancy,
we strive and thrive, but woefully 
we flash and flaunt our 'primacy',
display our trophies pridefully.
 
Our terra firma ecstasy
destroys the planet's harmony,
lays waste to life within the sea,
and all in name of vanity.

Who dares our spheroid's symmetry
by doubting Nature's regnancy
defying laws, like gravity,
affirms a fatal fallacy…

for, centered on the 'world of we',
we feed our vain insanity
on thoughts beyond eternity -
seems strange when looked at cosmically.

Perchance there is no remedy
for those in shadow's prophecy -
unless we handle skillfully,
as clay we'll pay the penalty.

                   2
The Moguls rule with cruel decree,
control the crowds like puppetry,
pursuing greed addictively
with no accountability.

The winds, they reek of Royalty
(that's bathed in  suds of treachery)
and blow across the peasantry
left gasping in their pungency.

The Queen, so steeped in snobbery,
sits, preening proud Her pedigree,
on throne of ash and ebony
while sipping Sekt immodestly;

to sate Her Regal Majesty,
a caviar clad canapé
is served with golden cutlery
by maidens bent submissively. 
 
The King is bailed from bankruptcy
by Knaves who hoodwink artfully
the down-and-outer evictee
who wallows in their lenity.

Forsooth, the Money Monarchy
ordains the dollar dynasty
portending highway robbery
by Peacocks plumed in finery,

for Jesters and the Fools agree
to dabble in duplicity
while stripping masses witlessly.
Long live the peon's penury!

                   3
To justify the oddity
that one plus one is sometimes three,
one reaches to theodicy,
takes paths of circularity.

In bygone trials of travesty
the doubters, draped in blasphemy,
endured the pain and agony
inflicted by the papacy.

Inspired by the Trinity
fanatics bent cosmology
in geocentric fantasy
while Bruno burned for heresy;

and aged  women, fruitlessly
(while racked and wrenched), begged clemency
from justice framed in infamy,
but set ablaze for witchery.

That epoch of credulity
(when savants fostered sorcery
and practiced ancient alchemy)
arose in dark age quackery

as clerics dripping piety
(while raging, raving rabidly)
pervaded thralled society
with callous inhumanity;

'repent', they bellowed, 'verily,
forsake the world's iniquity,
live lives of want and chastity,
and give your gelt to God through me'

                   4
The Masters make a mockery 
of freedom and democracy
by holding down the uppity,
released from shackled slavery,

now fettered in a factory
else strewn across the Bowery,
still chained in bonds of bigotry,
immersed in seas of poverty.

And colliers, tapping balefully
in sunken-mine solemnity,
yet thrum a mournful monody
some call the digger's elegy.

To children, pale and raggedy
(behind a day of drudgery),
the boss man, oh so gallantly,
presents a penny, niggardly;

though some are fed (belatedly),
their eyes recede in apathy 
while bellies swell, inflatedly,
with mothers watching, wretchedly.

When met with health adversity
or broken bone infirmity,
the pauper dangles helplessly
with no  insurance policy;

and those  engulfed in lunacy
are ailing blobs left floating free
through psycho-dream obscurity -
a dire death row odyssey.

Forgetting mankind's unity,
our rich and poor dichotomy
breeds empty doomed finality,
eventual nihility.

                   5
Just as in days of chivalry,
wild warriors fighting forcefully
bring freedom neath the gallows tree
while blending blood and burgundy

to toast the slaughtered enemy,
or else convince the colony
to cede with smile on bended knee
and yield her diamonds, silk and tea.

At first they call the cavalry
and then again the infantry,
so proudly primped in panoply,
and armed from finest armory

(embraced in hands so tenderly),
inflict benign atrocity -
but soon atomic weaponry
will cancel our posterity.

                   6
Misusing high technology
(to feed the face of gluttony)
depletes our Rock of energy,
now slowly dying thermally.

Our gadgets breathing CFC
fuel ozone holes' immensity 
while cloud bursts, raining acidly,
wilt woods in their entirety,

and rivers, tainted chemically,
polluted biologically,
refill our cups methodically
and drown our souls organically.

Adjusting genes mechanically 
may well blot out the bumble bee
annulling fruits' fecundity,
but brings big bucks reliably.

We wager perpetuity
to revel  momentarily
in shadow-like obscurity
ignoring the futility,

but if we bet unknowingly 
on fickle fate's contingency
and thereby act haphazardly
we're doomed to lose the lottery.

                   7
The mildly mad bureaucracy
so often lacks coherency
when raping rules abundantly
but offers no apology. 

They paint the past in reverie
when, slyly comes the tendency 
to take away our privacy	
which paves the way to tyranny.

With earlobes lurking furtively
that listen surreptitiously,
and eyeballs peering doggedly,
we've lost our mental sovereignty,

and those who dare to disagree
must hide away in secrecy
else perch in penitentiary
with water board anxiety.

                   8
Yes, sans responsibility,
our marble in this galaxy
will crumble in catastrophe
ere ever reaching puberty…


Copyright © Terry O'Leary | Year Posted 2015


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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.


Copyright © Vince Suzadail Jr. | Year Posted 2014


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Equality

        

The one thing in life we all strive to be is equal in every degree,
And I think everyone should have the same rights, don’t you agree?

We can all be equal but we cannot all be the same,
There is a difference and you can’t hold other people responsible are try to point the blame.

Certain things that have happened should be buried and forgot,
Otherwise it is like a cancer that will eat at you till you rot.

We all need forgiveness in our lives and truly that is the key,
Without forgiveness none of us are free!

The next step is compassion and kindness,
Show love instead of hate, helpfulness instead of hurtfulness might be a way out of this mess!

Teach respect and honor, not bigotry and greed,
Then maybe God will water and nurture that seed.

God made each and every one of us and I don’t think this squabbling He had in mind,
So we should all bury the hatchet and live for tomorrow, for yesterday is already one day behind.



Copyright © Ronald Bingham | Year Posted 2008


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Discrimination

Discrimination


Knowledge is power, know your history,
Study his story or her story.
Whichever you favour, to choose your reaction, 
For illumination, learn about the history of your nation.
For history repeats itself,
So make a change, to help yourself.


Learn what made you, the person you are.
Know your roots, before planting your seed, 
Don't let your mistakes, line your history.
Affirmative action will set you free, to ignore the bigotry.


The Afro-American struggle, has similarities with your own;
Surely you too, have been persecuted by someone.
Sure maybe on a different scale, 
But still persecuted, like the feminist females.


Still, treated differently 
Because of their thoughts of you.  
Their opinion of how you look, 
Or what they see you do.
Surely they've closed the door to you too?
And sent you away, 
Before hearing your words?


Simply because of the way, 
You are perceived to be.
It may have even lead you, 
To question the person they see.
They judge you with their power, 
Without even knowing you; 
But even Einstein looked stupid, 
With his mad scientist hairdo.


So follow what you believe, you can really do,
Don't quit because they say, 
You can't do the things you wish to.
Prove them wrong, prove yourself right.
Never let them overcome your struggle, 
Because nothing good comes easy, 
There is always a price. 
So is it worth the fight?


The hardest fight you'll have 
Is with the demons inside you, 
But when you've conquered your inner demons, 
Nothing in this world will be able to stop you.



(C)2013 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.


Copyright © Aa Harvey | Year Posted 2016


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Acrostic Love

Love....

Laughs at obstacles in the way
Overcomes bigotry and prejudice 
Valiantly goes forth and multiplies
Emitting a will of its own over us


Copyright © Paula Swanson | Year Posted 2012


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NONVIOLENCE

No need for violence or aggression
A passive acceptance of oppression 
A powerful tool for social protest
To be peaceful and not violence many will resist
It presumes the intent of social change
Some believe not using belligerence is insane
Nonviolence is a synonym for pacifism
When you hear this word, you associate it with Civil Rights and racism
Nonviolence is not inaction it is the patience to win
You gain a lot of support, love, respect, and friends
See many people do not like change
So many have used diverse methods in their peaceful campaigns 
Dr. Martin Luther King seen peace and equality to all races in his dream
Mahatma Gandhi helped India win its independence through bigotry that was extreme
I think that we should inevitably re-shape the social order in a lack of prejudice form
If we constantly use peace, we can weather many of these racial motivated storms
To listen to another's point of view is largely dependent on reciprocity
Not injustice, hate, and apathy
That is what makes me so angry
Remember what Jesus’ says, "love thine enemy”

"Nonviolence means avoiding not only external physical violence but also internal violence of 
spirit. You not only refuse to shoot a man, but you refuse to hate him."
Martin Luther King

Treat people as if they were what they ought to be and you help them to become what they 
are capable of being.
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

An eye for an eye only makes the whole world blind.
Mahatma Mohandas K. Gandhi


Copyright © Jeffrey Lee | Year Posted 2009


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Caffeine High by Carolyn Devonshire

Caffeine High
He works like a well-oiled machine
But only when filled with caffeine
No power within

The caffeine is just a smoke screen
He won’t even stop for cuisine
So he’s string-bean thin



Phenomenal  woman, Carolyn Devonshire illustrates her uniqueness as poetess in this clever and witty poem “Caffeine High.” After looking over all her list of poems on this site, I failed to come up with any particular poem that I liked better than the others, I like them all, therefore, I chose this particular one. Though “Caffeine High” demonstrates only two of her many skills, passions and unique abilities as a writer, her poems are those that I would expect to see survive the trials of the changing times, and be among the uniqueness of the greats. I have been privileged to know Carolyn for some three years, and have co-written at least one poem with her. Her faith in equality and dislike for bigotry flavors the notion of emphasis in each piece of her work, and never is there any dismissal of another’s ideals. 

The poetic endeavors of Carolyn flavor an impression upon myself that I will carry with me as being outstanding as long as I walk through this earthly valley of the shadow of death until reaching the portals of the absolute and beyond. Her type of writing, it’s passionate quality, will definitely be viewed as one that made the current state of humanistic evolvement more tolerable. She has been and her poetry, a great source of encouragement for my own lack in ability in expressions of my own passions in what inwardly I knew were facts of truths that needed written. To a dear friend a personal salute, Agape, John Moses Freeman.    


Copyright © john freeman | Year Posted 2012


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Dark Chocolate

Thank God for black on black bigotry,
oh the sweet dark chocolate they left for 

me.

Thank you for their eyes did not see
swarthy is the beauty I seek.

Thank you for my brothers misery, because
precious dark chocolate is in love with 

me.

The bright of her smile the light of her 
eyes the contrast so deep.

Her ebony face her curly locks eclipses 
the sun with angelic majesty. 

In the moonlight her beauty is of
sparkling gold, God she's my sweet baby to 
 honor to love and hold.
 
Oh the folly my brothers, for when she's  
in my arms I dream of a sweet princess,
royalty of long ago
 
Her kiss the berry so dark so sweet. 
Her honey sweet waters streaming replete.

I am your shining knight and the spoils 
of war you will keep, on bend-ed 
knee I will not harbor a diamond, ruby or 
nugget of gold, my swarthy princess 
you intoxicate me so.
 
In your bosom  please don't  let go.
Thank God my brothers did not know.


Copyright © TONY WILLIAMS | Year Posted 2011