Best Dehumanized Poems
Words of Mass Destruction
Words like bullets do not have eyes, as they fly in our hearts and materialize
Deleterious breaths that we soon despise, words written in stone we idealize
Warring weaponed words that paralyze, wounding wandering words terrorize
Torpedo texts thrown to criticize, paranoid punitive parasites will pulverize
Like the Atom bomb, words are strong only use them wisely where they belong
Some create a lullaby or sweet a song, while others use them to do their wrong
Words of deception create no affection only intervene with the inflating infection
Annihilating in their corrupt convention, wary words that bring rigorous rejection
Of the negative neurotic neglect, wording witches and warlocks of their architect
Dehumanized discord of disconnect, vengeful letters lashing will always resurrect
Words can frighten as well as enlighten, some will delight in words that tighten
Words of corruption bring self-destruction, a raging ruction of a serpent seduction.
Nov.20.2017
Judgmental People And Haters
Sponsored by: Brenda Chiri
The world was silent as they died
The victims of a genocide
Armenian blood considered cheap
Dehumanized, their wounds cut deep
Starvation in a desert land
A naked, bleeding, hopeless band
The relocation just a ruse
A Death March of rampant abuse
Few decades later, Hitler said,
“Forgotten are Armenian dead.
Perhaps I too can do the same,
for who remembers them by name?
I’ll kill the Jews, yes, every one!
The world can’t stop me till I’m done!”
Another genocide took place
For Jews, no favor, mercy, grace.
These horrors haunt humanity
But who can stop insanity?
Now Jews are on the killing side
They claim it’s not a genocide
Poor Gaza has no wailing wall
the bomb blasts made the strongest fall,
and wailing’s heard on ravaged streets
where children lie in bloodied sheets
From rubble rises stifled cries
a mother dies with open eyes
her arms still clutching baby tight
while blasts light up the Gazan night.
A father faints beside the grave
of children whom he could not save
And those who manage to survive
Must fight for food to stay alive
Though Israel forgot its past,
the truth of what they’ve done will last.
The word they use? Retaliate!
The proper word? Annihilate!
Get rid of every single one
The work of vengeance must be done
A freedom fighter? Terrorist?
The slaughtered ones can’t answer this.
Instead of useless rhetoric
Protect the dying, wounded, sick
Wake up and stop this savagery
Please do it for humanity!
No matter what my choice of word,
I grieve for those who died, unheard
I groan with shame for what I see
The death of human dignity
To you who did not raise you voice,
Who claimed you really had no choice,
one day the genocide will be
of loved ones in your family
Before you go down to the grave
Cry out for someone’s help to save
But silence will reverberate
For lesson learned was learned too late
When your life bleeds out on the ground
The world will watch without a sound.
Eileen Manassian Ghali
Now I know the burden of pain.
The true malevolence of the world.
My eyes were blinded, my emotions deceived,
My dreams all a wild fantasy.
Once upon a time,
I was under the impression
That life was a joy, all fun and games.
An illusion of grandeur.
Now I know the destruction of war.
The killing machines it creates.
Dehumanized, robotized.
We were animals who could not think for themselves.
Now I know the reality of battle.
Sides separated by only the color of a uniform.
All hatred is lost, any hope is crushed.
Survival is the only motivation to move on.
I have witnessed the horrors of death.
Experienced the brutality of war.
Deprived of my youth and innocence.
Witnessed brothers die in front of my own two eyes.
Now I know.
bars and cages of flags ,colors ,creeds .
in Egypt they've been saying we want to make Egypt great again .
can't help but look at the irony gullible red and white and blue patriots and the slogan again on the rise we want America great again.
can't you see Iraq where the great empire of Babel stood .
Syria and the Assyrians
Egypt where the secret defies all your technology
the third Reich ,the eagle ,the Indian nazi they're all one machines of destructions strings held by Shylocks .
humans didn't find earth border marked .
and it hit me we're watching the Syrian refugees freezing to death.
but make no mistake ,no matter what your sick flag is there are silent ,non famous refugees freezing few blocks away from where you live .
from Portland bus stop ,under street kids of Brazil ,to the tin homes of Egypt even in Israel there's some Ethiopian fooled by fake Judea freezing to death outside an Ashkenazi bar .
the only thing that's needs to be great again is Humanity and Humans.
yet what hurts them in this photo is that America is broken .
not that thousands went past this woman and nobody cares to even look at her.
tell me what is ancient Egypt ,Mayans,enka,Sumerian and America ,,without the pure human soul they're ruins of a ppl who worshipped greed and seized to exist.
we're not evolving we're descending way past the ape zone .
actually we became Shylock's AI ,meat puppets ,flesh robots.
desensitized,dehumanized .
we're living the age where peace needs a force
religion spreads by missions not attracting by forgiveness recognition.
colors of the skin became a race .
look me in the eye and tell me are we humans ?
wonder how many seconds you'll keep a straight face
Tamer Hossam
MOTHER GHANA
I was told about your retrospect, after that scene, I burst into tears. I learned they came to genuflect like angels and took away your possessions. They dehumanized your progeny like animals. They dragged them as if they wanted to tear. Your progeny toiled just for us to cheer. They (the visitors) hypocritically played the drum expecting your progeny to dance. Your progeny suffered for my emancipation especially when the visitors wanted their nod consolidated. Your bold progeny tried come hell or high water to get it emasculated, but the more they tried, the more it got devastated. They fed your progeny and told them to regurgitate. They forced them with the rod anytime they tried to hesitate. They (the visitors) searched the brave among your progeny and escorted them to the grave. Wherever the deceased are, I pray the creator keeps their souls. You suffered but the battle ended. We thank those who toiled their blood and passed through all holes. We live confidently because of their fight. I couldn't stand the sight when I watched pictographic scenes of the battle. We were discarded but have been found. Today is your day for you were freed this day. Although I am happy, I am sad and I hope you know why. You were freed long ago but as if we have reached an impasse, we can't go. Anytime I think about it, I have no option than to sigh. Your present progeny need to wake up and work relentlessly, for your name should climb higher than I can see. You deserve the world's priority for you suffered immensely. It is unequivocal that your womb is blessed. We see bloody things in your neighbor's houses but we live happily on your compound. Awake present progeny and make your mother proud. You have tried but looking at your mother's grief, it is very minimal............HAPPY INDEPENDENCE DAY TO ALL GHANIANS
I am Sam Nujoma
The father and defender of my homeland.
The man who surrendered his youth,
To fight for my youth.
The man who gave birth to a Nation,
And the nation gave birth to my dreams.
Progressive and visionary,
The man’s wisdom is endless,
Immeasurable like the infinite Namib sand
And as deep as the lake Oshikoto.
The first president of a contrasting country
The man united a contrasting people
And gave us one Identity.
God’s prophet to ‘the land made out of anger’
He never planned to profit,
And from the summit of Brandberg
He lifted the spirits of the people
The same way hymns and Psalms
Lift my grandmother’s spirit.
I am Sam Nujoma
The burden bearer of the people hopes
And the liberator of suppressed aspirations.
Spectacular and Charismatic,
A seducer of souls, he is loved by many.
A unique legend, there is nothing, but
The moon and stars above him.
Like the mighty Okavango River,
His legacy is perpetual and life giving,
The brilliant star we look up to for direction.
When they dehumanized us
He restored the human rights of the people.
His, is a golden heart
Touching and transcending generations.
Imperial like the golden sunset, he is.
I am proud to be a citizen of the land of the Brave
Because Sam Nujoma was Brave.
BELIZEAN BLEND
In the beginning it was the Yucatec, the Mopan and Kekchi as well
Who came from the steppes of Asia where nomads dwell
They fished and farmed milpas, in paradise; away from hell
Some building great civilizations that, for many reasons, eventually fell
Then came the Spaniards whose ambivalence; mixed feelings
Caused them to waver in subsequent dealings
Killed some natives, driven off by others
In the end did not settle; wasn’t worth the bother
Displaced by the British, rowdy pirates turn woodcutters
Who made laws and build infrastructure down to the gutters
Cut logwood, then mahogany for powerful and wealthy folks
Then, to satisfy greed, sought others to enslave in yokes
Africans from Jamaica and Bermuda transshipped
Then as chattel they were frequently whipped
Stolen from Africa, becoming the major labor force
Dehumanized and tortured for centuries without remorse
Mestizos fleeing oppressors in the Yucatan
The War of Castes brought them from beyond
Working as chicleros and cane cutters
As a way of providing ‘ bread and butter’
Garinagu deported from St. Vincent as a form of punishment
Many dying in their odyssey , their massive predicament
Survive , resiliently, on the rebound
A proud people, with culture and learning very sound
Mennonites coming to enjoy religious freedom and peace
Avoiding persecution for a life of ease
Providing furniture, low cost poultry and eggs
Reducing the cadre of many that beg
From India and China they were duped and brought
As indentured servants who were hastily sought
Later as merchants and shopkeepers they came
Voluntarily this time, which is not nearly the same
Backpackers and excursionists everywhere
In a world where they’re free to choose elsewhere
Not part of the earlier diaspora
But manifestations of a new plethora
“I Come From A People”
Written by Kim Tipton Scott
I come from a people...
Forced to labor from sun up
‘till after it had gone down
and from the fruits of this
involuntary servitude
cotton...tobacco...and cane
an entire country was built
with their bare and blistered hands.
I come from a people...
Men...women…even Children
with limbs big and strong
but spirits even stronger
and though beaten
and sometimes near skinned alive,
never could be broken.
I come from a people...
Mamas…Big Mamas…Aunt Jemimas
Born with that kind of faith
that could move mountains
and just like those trees
planted by the mighty waters
they could not be moved.
I come from a people...
Hated simply for the color of their skin
but continued to say it loud,
“I’m Black and I’m proud,”
‘cause BLACK is so
so beautiful…so beautiful…so beautiful
which is why white folks sit out in the sun.
I come from a people...
Criticized…dehumanized…victimized
called everything but a child of God
but kept on singin ’and a shoutin’
“Sticks and stones may break
every last one of my bones
but those mean ol’ words of yours
will never hurt me!”
I come from a people...
Who as the ol’ folks use to say
had nothin’…nothin’…nothin’
but a wing and a prayer
but somehow made a way
out of no way for their children,
and their children,
and theirs to be…FREE!
Nigeria.
The country of my birth. Beautiful in youth. Wrinkled as the years pass by. Through no fault of hers. But by the doing and undoing of her children, consciously and unconsciously.
Blessed by God. Impoverished by mankind.
Struggling for self-liberation but incarcerated by wicked and egoistic souls. Souls who prefer to squander and milk the nation today with the goal of enjoying life and securing the future of their lineage.
Nigeria.
Everytime I read the dailies, the thought of what might have been makes it all the more pathetic. A nation whose citizens should ‘swim’ in milk and honey. Whose name should be revered amongst the comity of nations. But for the myopic thinking of our leaders – past and present – we are where we find ourselves; in the woods. The genesis started with their actions and inactions.
Directly or indirectly, the fault is ours to bear. Forget colonization. Forget its offshoot, neo-colonization. We can be what we want to be. Fortune favours the prepared.
Nigeria.
A weak giant.
Clueless leaders.
A country with no respect for history. For the rule of law.
Whose citizens are permeated with a brief memory span.
Nigeria.
How can looters still have the temerity to contest elections after their misdeeds some years ago! And people will vote!
Another election is forthcoming; we will forget the ordeals of the past. And vote these insatiable, power-hungry, monstrously greedy, sinister people called ‘leaders’ into power!
Posterity will judge. If it can’t, then God.
Nigeria.
Girls are being kidnapped. Maybe raped and dehumanized. Students are on strike and the government does not give a hoot. Some governors are forever enriching themselves by passing bills that will pay them billions of taxpayers’ hard-earned funds. Pensioners are being owed. Poverty is on the increase. Unemployment too. Crime. Name them.
All these in a sane country!
Nigeria.
Until our ‘leaders’ are stopped from travelling abroad to treat headaches.
Until a law is passed mandating their children to school in public institutions.
Until every politician is made accountable for every kobo spent.
Until the rule of law is supreme.
Until our votes count…
Things will sure fall apart in this country.
My Eyes Have Seen The Light
By Nate Spears
My eyes have seen the light
I’ve been trick, traded, and troubled
Separated from my father, divided from my brothers
My eyes have seen the light
I’ve been drained of my mother’s love
Dehumanized before the world
Respect lost globally
Steady dying love
My eyes have seen the light
Violence has been manufactured into key
Absence of hard work
Rendering your rights for less than free
Now my eyes are closed
My head is bowed
In my thoughts I pray for we
My eyes have seen the light
The King rests in me
Passing self respect the next
To breath
To breed
To believe
My eyes transcend the light on you.
They were hated, berated, and degraded They were demoted, denied, and deprived
They were traded like livestock and treated worst than animals They were a people detained, renamed, and reduced to property
They were displaced, disgraced, disrespected, and disenfranchised They were captured, chained, and maimed; battered, beaten, and bruised
If we were one of them, how would we feel? How would we deal?
How would we heal? How would we then live?
I am saddened by their slavery, but I am inspired by their bravery. When I pause, I discover the magic of a mystery.
I clearly see virtues hidden in their tragic history. I am touched when I sense a 'virtue in their vision'.
They knew that, even if erased without a trace, they had a past. They experienced sorrow but managed the madness of their present.
Me think that their "Tomorrow in the distance" launched their untouchable souls. Though bowed and broken, they visualized tomorrow and paid the
painful toll. Me think that they saw a vision of me in the distant future living happy and free. Me think that they decried the mirrors that painted their
darkened spirit and defied the demons of misery. How else could they have survived their dehumanized plight and thrived as enslaved human beings?
Written061807; Condensed and posted to PS 02262018
Black History Month 2018
So much stunned at man's alienation
even in the man-made world.
Stunned at the human folly to lust for relations
carrying the signboard "Strictly Prohibited".
Wisdom nullified at the foolish acts
and relationships ruined by the misunderstandings
and egocentric behavior.
Consistent silence not willing to bear any interference of words;
still personal secrets roar in public.
Virginity tarnished by the compelling circumstances.
Mankind dehumanized by the hectic activity
and illusions shatter in face of grim reality.
The very inspiration results in dissuasion
and the Quality crushed under the heavy feet of Affectation.
So much stunned at the talent gone wasted for so many years
as man gets trapped in the wheel of existence killing all soft feelings.
Children having children, promoted by our liberal laws
Congress taking tax money and playing Santa Claus
Third generation dependents don’t work, don’t even try
Sit home, collect assistance, stay home and multiply
Politicians have no conscience, the damage that they do
Their pockets getting larger while screwing me and you
You’ll be punished for working, it doesn’t fit their mold
They want a nation of dependents, doing what they’re told
They want you to be silent, please don’t ever rock the boat
They will choose your health care and ram it down your throat
They will have their own plan because they are the elite
We all should be thankful just to grovel at their feet
Under their new healthcare plans, let the patriots beware
Dissidents, prisoners and terrorists will get the better care
They found the funding for it, claiming it’s the only way
They’ll just screw the working man and take it from his pay
If you struggle and go to college, you’ll be forever in debt
But start manufacturing children and see all you can get
Those who will not work have found a bed of clover
Killing off the working man, socialists have taken over
We need to help the people who cannot help themselves
For permanent couch potatoes, we’re not Santa’s little elves
Punished for achievement, ambition is treated like a vice
Sit down, shut up, don’t think and they will treat you nice
Obedient subservient robots is what the elected officials seek
They want inconsequential citizens to be dehumanized and meek
They’ll tell us what to think and teach us to stoop and bow
If you think times were bad before, just take a look at US now
To Bear Witness
To bear witness … and awaken the world … he’ll rise:
Helpless to halt routine horrors he’s seeing,
A scared, adolescent boy of slender size,
Nabbed and dehumanized solely for “being”,
Keeps records of the cruelty his captors devise.
Yesterday once stayed his tenacious tenant of time,
Occupying today in recurrent roles of reprise,
Until death voided its lease, evicting crisis from crime.
Exiled to sight and sound, languages always languish:
Lone words, limited mediums too dull and shallow,
Impaired all the expressions of their author’s anguish,
Except to press, “What shall humanity hold hallow?”
Woven together, his words threaded truths for which he fought,
Iterating a haunting testimony of torment.
Emancipated prose, sprung from his mind’s prison distraught,
Sew our human bond on basted seams of past and present:
Empathy must be a measure of our moral fitness
Lest we lose lessons taught by he who lived … to bear witness!
E. V. Wyler
I have been up and down the valley
I have been honored and dishonored
Good and bad times have been my lot
In my search for happiness and fulfillment
I have been to hell and back
False accusations wet my pillow nightly
Isolation was constant companion
I was despised and hated
When I longed for recognition and love
I was brutalized and dehumanized
When I searched for empathy and humanity
I was object of mockery and disdain
When my heart yearned for acceptance and respect
I was invited to high society as guest
But on each occasion turned
Back in disgrace and rejection
I have gone round the circle and back
And standing tall and victorious
For I have conquered all my adversaries
The worse is over