~I wore your skin~
Brother, I wore your skin last night
Nothing but friction, blood -dry ink
Announcing a crush "Silence by the Sky!"
Integrity denied, endangered enemy
Brother, I wore your skin last night, swollen ankles
imagery galore, vomit on the lavatory floor
A clown bleeding red, feeding lies to those he rapes
Blades of need, captain catamite chasing a pup
Who can't resist the heat, when fenced
Brother, I wore your skin last night,
White, green and tight, devouring the light
Mitten wool on your bottom draw
Lipstick waiting to kiss immediate sin
In search of keeping things close to kin
Brother I wore and tore your skin right off
Gross in every demonic way,
Acrobats all over the home
Docile immunity, lurking with a bomb threat
Sister, I wore your skin last night
Vanity of nothingness nutted blasphemy
Evil lurking, wanting to undress thee
Comparing notes, breaking bad company
Sister, I wore your skin last night, swollen lips
scumbag hag, with nowhere to go
Immortal lies weaken by love
Revealing nothing more than her true self
A wraith with no heart, no goal
Sister, I wore your skin last night
Repeating, bleeding, nail biting
Greasy and powerful, needy and greedy
Aching and whining for not placing
Her head lower than shame holding a high
Sister I wore and swore to never put on your skin again
The nasty feeling, of pretending loyalty, is passion
To hate all those who don't fit your skin
A vulture preying sending encrypted messages
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2015
In memory of----
Solely in my room, I can't stomach the sound of my heartbeat.
I sit here alone to forget the taste of air,
Overwhelmed by the scene -unbelievable footage
18 seconds too long, "I can't breathe."
My judgement is gone, stressing all night long
I use to fear dark colors, now I fear spinning bright lights
Red, White, and Blue, I spew the NY Police crew
What's wrong with your blue eyes?
You see him, you want to mess with him
What a day to trade -- a life for illegal cigarettes
Persecution and judgment day, a sweet life taken away
"I can't breathe", executed in broad daylight!
Bullies left and right
What happened to minding our business?
Moneymaking, refusing to be singled out
A hurting voice tackled by racism
Free to see, pouring his heavy heart,
Oinker's demand the ground, leaving out his testament
8 times too many, "I can't breathe!"
Where did his vitals go?
Can someone please pound the pavement!
Stress, anger, madness, the voices of the innocent
"I can't breathe." the volume of Valium
"Officer, did you not hear the man?"
Are you deaf, have you forgotten how to save a life?
Is it just the NYPD or is it every other badge,
Insinuating crime's a one-color show.
We are all criminals, why the excessive heat?
Shot, tasered, beat down, pepper sprayed, now on the ground
The choke hold of all choke holds, murdered and out numbered
The echoes remain "I can't breathe!"
- The truth!
Eric Garner robbed of his own natural path and youth
One man down eyed suspiciously
Perplexed minds suffocating him instantly
The mistrusted, the fear, the hate,
So tangible, uniforms using deadly force
One asthmatic in a choke hold
Slamming his head on the flooring
Open wounds, worldwide tears
My heart goes to the family and friends left behind
A courageous last breath, for the first and last time
"I can't breathe," now deceased.
You left this world unwilling, waking up a strong community
Strolling in a better world, where racism don't exist
"I can't breathe," Eric Garner Rest in peace!
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2014
Penned like cattle, as if chattel,
cages rattle, sounds of brattle,
no more tattle, keen for battle.
Be free, my brothers!
The cause is great, our rights innate,
not fuelled by hate, we’ll change our fate,
we won’t be freight, not long to wait.
Be free, my brothers!
Marched out on deck, end of the trek,
each one they check, from toes to neck,
the merest speck, is cause for heck.
Be free, my brothers!
As we make land, I rub my brand,
the time’s at hand, to make a stand,
with me my band, just as we planned.
Be free, my brothers!
No longer sane, we share the strain,
endure the pain, it’s not in vain,
it’s all to gain, I break the chain.
Be free, my brothers!
Accursed whip, my clothes do rip,
he splits my lip, I smash his hip,
he’s lost his grip, knocked off the ship.
Be free, my brothers!
We're in the dirt, the words are curt,
I wield the quirt, then shred his shirt,
his blood does spurt, he's badly hurt.
Be free, my brothers!
The dock we shun, just feel that sun,
we’re on the run, but not yet won,
all said and done, it’s just begun.
Be free, my brothers!
Free of the snare, the wear and tear,
the vacant stare, the matted hair,
because we dare, to breathe the air.
Be free, my brothers!
So they give chase, don’t see the face,
our fall from grace, because of race,
their motives base, traded for lace.
Be free, my brothers!
More men appear, they mock and jeer,
the end draws near, that much is clear,
we hold life dear, so fight your fear.
Be free, my brothers!
At last we’re caught, not been for nought,
got what we sought, for what we fought,
to them we’ve taught, will not be bought.
Be free, my brothers!
Out in the field, wounds haven't healed,
blood not congealed, our fates are sealed,
their guns they wield, we will not yield.
Die free, my brothers!
Originally composed in 2013, this is one of my longer poems. I was unsure about letting it see the light of day due to the sensitive nature of the subject, but this was my take on a particularly dark part of man's history.
Submitted to the "Go Ahead... I Dare Ya!!" contest sponsored by John Lawless - First Place.
Poem of the Day: 10th April 2017
Copyright © John Michaels | Year Posted 2017
I saw Nazis march yesterday
upon the streets of Charlottesville.
And with swastikas on display
crazed members chanted blood will spill.
I saw Satan grinning with pride
at racial slurs shouted in hate.
And bigots standing by his side
help the violence escalate.
I saw torches light up the night
snaking through the black neighborhoods.
And skinheads looking for a fight,
all they were missing were white hoods.
I saw white supremacists proud
of drawing blood and spreading fear.
And a car plow into the crowd
its intentions perfectly clear.
I saw President Trump place blame
on both sides for this killing spree.
And a shocked nation reel in shame
at how callous he seemed to be.
I saw what might be the end of
tolerance and democracy.
For mantras of hate replaced love
with smugness and hypocrisy.
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2017
The wall that separates
Disguised in honorable robes
Preached to children
Am I to be tolerated?
Just because I am different
White, black, brown or yellow
Straight or gay
Perhaps I am Muslim
I am painted with many brushes
A part of humanity's inconsistancies
When you tolerate
You hold yourself in high esteem
You grace me with your temporary favor
You disguise me with your perceptions
You make me a little less distasteful
For a moment
Perhaps a day
You feel proud for not looking away
I do not seek tolerance
Like you I wish to be valued
To be seen in loving ways
Maybe not today
Labels Will disappear with all our sorrow
For me I am you
I am the many and the few
Waiting for my turn
Will this be my day
To be heard and have a say
For PD's Contest
I don't know if it's my best but it is my most recent.
I have had a strong response to it and I think it is
an important message. Your popularity would have
more people read it and that is a very good thing.
Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2014
America the Free ~ America the Brave ~
Freedom with price Capitalism attacked
the many taken hearts broken still
one World try to rebuild
sadness and tears fall hard with fears
guilt by association many accused still
souls evaporated shattered dreams
tears fall on innocence left with anger
The proud fearless knew the inevitable
policeman fireman many lives lost
grieving does not stop 12 years later
New York city once proud & shameless
refusing to let fears in protecting ours
left in shock still question's unanswered
nothing learned nothing gained
ready to attack many left behind
anger greets denial anger meets rage
unacceptable still refusing new love
wanting days to rewind let us go back in time
acceptance allowing the victims leave in peace
the brave taken young leaving us sadly old
haunting dreams lost spirits dwell
no answers to hate never forgetting that day
Evil entered suddenly unforgiving fate
entering our City we stand with the fallen
How to fix how do we Change
This can be read many different ways ~ This is a poem I am so proud to write ~
Copyright © Shanity Rain | Year Posted 2013
They hate you because your you
They make up lies and call it true
They're fake behind your back
Hoping someday that you'll crack.
They hate you because your real.
no matter what they say you always heal
They're surprised to see you rise,
That you're not affected by all these lies
They hate you because you smile at them
It shows them that your a real gem
You are always true and do your best :)
Sometimes these haters just cant test
They hate you for no reason
Despite it all, you smile
whatever the reason
At the end of the day
All i'm gonna say
All i plan to be
-Sanderline Fleury :)
Copyright © Sanderline Fleury | Year Posted 2013
I am strong
You may simply disregard me
with your arrogant throng
You may treat me with disrespect
I'm still here, I am strong
Why don't you like it when I succeed?
Why can't you be happy for me?
I walk on air, confidently
so, foot loose and fancy free
Just like hope and like faith
and the sureness of birdsong
I know where I belong...
I am strong
Did you want me to be shaking
so scared and all alone?
Feeling lost and so abandoned
with nowhere to call my home?
Does my happiness distress you?
Does it make you feel upset?
That I'm at peace lovin' myself
Livin' life without regret?
You may shred me with sarcasm
You can say I don't belong
You can hate me with your jealousy
But still, like iron, I'm strong
Does my confidence disturb you?
Can you not visualize?
That my words are captivating
and the crowds they mesmerize?
From ancestral farmers sowing seed
I am strong
From hardy men of faith who believed
I am strong
I'm a true wordsmith, spinning words so true
weaving and knitting, as true poets do.
Never giving in to fear or to doubt
I am strong
I know what the love of God is about
I am strong
Building on the faith my forefathers had
I encourage the weak, make their hearts glad
John Derek Hamilton
Copyright © John Hamilton | Year Posted 2016
Chains of Colonialism
With guns they came
With whips and chains
Chains to capture the Dark Continent
Chains snaking across Africa
Africa blessed by nature
Africa a precious jewel
Jewel coveted by imperialists
Jewel stained with blood
Blood of the disenfranchised
Blood of innocents
Subjugated like cattle
Nonentities to colonial masters
Nonentities bowing to alien flags
Flags of oppression
Flags of exploitation and domination
Domination of inferiors
Domination of natural resources
Resources nurtured with sweat and tears
Tears of those with no voices
Tears of those whipped and silenced
Silenced by superiority
Silenced by weapons and fear
Fear of foreign invaders
Fear of certain death
Death of ancient civilization
Death of treasured culture
Culture stripped and raped
Culture battered and fragmented
People crushed to the ground
People with no more sweet songs
Songs of freedom and happier times
Songs of nationalism
Nationalism and solidarity
Thwarted to divide and conquer
Thwarted to castrate minds and bodies
Bodies chained and beaten
Bodies killed for defiance
Defiance against injustice
Defiance against colonialism
Colonialism in the name of God
Colonialism in the name of kings
Copyright © Pandita Sanchez | Year Posted 2016
How many souls live on the edge,
Between the gutter and the ledge?
A hopeless fear crawls in their gut,
Each day, another endless rut.
The moments pass profoundly slow
Sad, bitter winds are all that blow.
A man lay huddled near the bin
Hoping death will take him in.
Frozen tears, on wrinkled cheeks
Frostbitten ears, and shoes that leak.
His mind forgets the games of tag,
Old Crockett's hill, where down they'd slide.
A summer rain, the puddles deep
Out catchin' toads, to tame and keep.
His life began with dimpled cheeks,
Red tousled hair, and hide 'n seek.
A tough old Dad who tricked and teased
A pretty Mom who smiled with ease.
They had a farm with fields of hay
A few old hogs, and bills to pay.
One summer day, the sky turned black.
A howling wind brought down their shack.
Dad sold the hogs, and cut the hay.
The farm was lost, we drove away.
The next two years were grim and lean.
Dad broke his back, to feed us beans.
When winter came our food ran out.
We found old Dad hung by a rope.
Without poor Dad, no food or fire;
Mom took my hand, the day was dire.
The Sister's face looked mean and sour.
I thought of Mom most every hour.
They scrubbed my back until it bled.
cut off my hair, then I got fed.
'Twas many years before I left,
My Mom had died a tragic death.
Now all alone, I lived and slept.
I begged for food, and sometimes wept.
A life of days and endless woe,
Now time is dead, and death too slow.
As you walk by those 'homeless freaks'
Remember me, with dimpled cheeks.
Copyright © Kimberly Shaw | Year Posted 2014
Often wondering is it a steak upon Our Plates that is important...
Perhaps a Hot-dog instead and more Money for a healing deportment.
To feed a Child that is suffering or very ill and extremely sick.
We ask often comfortably what often makes the wealthy tick?
As We read on The Internet that there are Children out there just wanting Bread.
The Children eating grass is in an Article that was just as this is read...
My Heart torn open,wrenched,concerned and burning with anguish inside.
My Own Home stemless, poor, and uncomfortably We reside...
Wishing We could just reach threw a T.V. Set to give a helping hand...
Just to pass Our Dinner to a child in a taunted hemmed Land.
My passion so large, words so strong, and My Pocket very small.
Never standing in the right position in Life to answer as Children call.
There are Children in Our World that are just eating grass.
Under seemly so by My feelings of disrepair as I pass My Own grasp...
This stench of Many Self willed that preform as Our stanza has not surpassed.
To reach for You now is more then an unbearable weep to comprehend.
A World filling up with Starvation and Our Children in it left to descend.
To reach for You now is an unbearable decision not yet made.
The Children Eating Grass just wore Me thin and They paid.
Sometime wishing I could just rob and empty an entire vault.
That Decision would cost Me greatly so I resort to prayer that will never fault.
To Be trusted with just This Message where I sit and grieve.
When Encounters of Love yet to occur and never to beckon Evil that is deceived.
By Charlene L.Wilcox 09-29-2014
Copyright © Charlene Wilcox | Year Posted 2014
'My' biggest mistake was being born a girl
I was never going to meet your expectations for you wanted a
Son and you got me ...mum said to you ‘I was the next best thing’
That’s maybe why you treated me and my sister
Anne so differently - she was like a princess
Kept by you and mum, never having to work
Even now she treats me like a second class citizen BUT
Now you are no longer here I am finally free from the past
There are no words to express my
Heartfelt sorrow at the way you treated me
All I wanted was to be loved by you but
That love was never ever there for me
You never acknowledged anything I achieved
Or the fact I gave you your only grandchild
Unwanted unloved that’s how I was made to feel by you
Looking back over my life has been difficult
Only recently I discovered the full extent of the
Variance between the way you treated us both during your lifetime
Except one thing you could never take away from me was my
Determination to stand on my own two feet and be my own person
Maybe life could have been different if you’d got the son you wanted BUT
Everything I have I worked for and I am proud of who I am
My Biggest Mistake Contest sponsored by Laura Loo
This is probably the most personal poem I have ever written but it has been so cathartic to finally put this down on paper and put my ghost to bed. Maybe in time I will finally grieve for my father, but I have been told by Hospice that this could take many years.
Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2016
Wicked news flash - torrential storm - Purple
streaks of confusion striking. Violent grey
clouds spinning its evil. Hatred scattered
in shreds of hail. Waves pounding
against our aching skulls. Who
can live dangerously and ride
their storm. To roll with the
thunder and never see blue
sky. These puddles of
tears splashing out of
fear. All that made a
clear day is spiralling
out of control. How?
can we keep calm.
Wake from this
may be a
Copyright © Carol B. | Year Posted 2017
Explain to me why I stand alone.
Women are quick to uplift their father, sons, and brothers
Quick to maintain the home,
But when she needs support,
A woman stands alone
Explain to me why a woman has to stay in her “place”
Is there no room for a woman who is more than a pretty face?
Is there no room for a woman who can stimulate you intellectually
Or is it a woman’s only duty to please you sexually?
Explain to me why beating a woman gives you power
It gives you strength
Is masculinity so fragile
That you can’t maintain?
Without getting pleasure from pain
Explain to me why your brother goes scott free
When he takes advantage of a woman
While she is left to be ridiculed, blamed
As society throws dirt on her name
And she falls victim to her own demise.
The men who are so oblivious to their own privilege
That they think patriarchy is normal
Excuse my language
As I speak a bit informal
For you to understand
That you cannot catcall me as I walk down the street
It’s disgusting and demeaning
No I am not obligated to give you my number
Just because you ask and think you are getting a pass at me
No I don’t need you to hold the door open or carry my groceries
I am a strong, independent woman and your belief that I am weak
No I do not have to give you my body just because you bought me a drink
My body belongs to me
No matter what you tell yourself or think
You can no longer say that you are ignorant to my issues or my demands
Because I have clearly listed it for you to see.
Now only a real man
Will know, that women deserve equity
Copyright © Kapree Tripp | Year Posted 2017
Scourge of weakest minds—
Always seeking more of them!
Infectious venom . . .
Pervasive and destructive . . .
Resist this stupidity!
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved,
August 29, 2017 (Tanka)
Copyright © Gary Bateman | Year Posted 2017
These are just a few words about reality,
as Muslims struggle each day with individuality.
What is a Muslim and from whence does he come?
Like you and me, he is born into the world. because of two someone's.
Many of us grew up knowing prejudice in life,
I was gangly, naive, ever given to strife.
Raised as a Christian I never knew what it meant,
As my Muslim friend, how people could vent.
My younger years were spent playing baseball you see,
They were a team of Puerto Ricans, not one Muslim to be.
My Polish heritage was always the butt of a joke,
It was infinitely small, compared to a Muslim's yoke.
My parent's generation was prejudiced in mind,
To Blacks, and Jews, Hindus, Muslims, Hispanics and people of all kind.
I, being naive, never even recognized the strife,
to which these peoples had been subjected to in life.
From experience I learned to treat each person individually,
slowly finding out that that was how they treated me.
Oh, I can say I've met both good and bad,
and the underlying theme is all so sad.
For it seems that we put labels to people like cans of beans,
stick them on a shelf, never tasting their means.
But once you open that can and taste the fare,
you may very well find yourself going back there.
We have our share of detractors in this world of our choice,
but Muslims are not the ones against whom we should give voice.
They are as decent, hard working, and loving as you or me.
They only want what is best for their family.
I pray to my Christian God for Muslims though they know it not,
because they are people that He has not forgot.
Words between man and God are private you see,
that is what connects man to his Deity.
But in every society there is always some remark made aloud,
about how this group or that group has no right to be allowed.
What, I wonder, gives them the right to speak that thought?
Unless it was the freedoms for which this country fought.
And I am sure that the Muslims fought with us too,
so they could have an American dream or two.
So, I think I'll stay in my own naive little way,
and keep those prejudices well at bay.
I won't care whether the next person is Red or Yellow, Black or White,
I won't care if he's Hindu or Christian, Jewish or Zen on sight.
Yes, I'll like the next Muslim I see,
I'm going to smile at them, and I bet they smile back at me!
Copyright © Dan Cwiak | Year Posted 2017
Fear is what they clothe them in.
Fear of losing their life because of one mistake.
Fear of losing their life because an officer is having
a bad day.
Some say it's not racism;
"It's police brutality."
Whatever you call it, I can't
help but ask "where is humanity?"
Mothers weeping because they're losing their sons.
Teaching them to fight back with silence
but that is no weapon compared to a gun.
Six feet under, leaving families to fight for justice
over their lives.
Societies getting tired of it all-
starting riots and constructing strikes.
How many more time will history repeat itself?
Or are we still writing [his]tory , using coverups
All lives matter despite of their race.
All lives matter despite their mistakes.
In times such as these justice will demand to be served.
No matter how chaotic, crazy, or obscured.
Life is a gift, one that we should all treasure.
Because all lives matter and we need to protect them;
no matter the measure.
Copyright © Amber Binford | Year Posted 2014
My spirit and soul are trapped in this vessel of flesh. They scream to escape and to be liberated and soar on the breezes of life. To frolic freely among the trees, among the clouds and to run without weight and care.
My spirit and soul are trapped and they want to get out. Out from under all the stress and demand in life out from all the evil and hate of the world.
My spirit and soul are trapped in demand to perform, to keep a smile when I am down, to keep a stiff upper lip.
My spirit and soul are trapped to work for things and objects, to keep up with Jones and Kardashians.
My spirit and soul are trapped into believing that all men are made equal when the reality of this world says different, that only green currency is the great equalizer.
My spirit and soul are trapped into believing that single is not wholeness that it is necessary to be joined with another body to be view without stigma.
My spirit and soul are trapped in a body not acceptable because it's fat, it's woman and it's black and aging.
My spirit and soul are trapped and they are screaming to be free... screaming to reveal all the possibilities of how good life could be if I just didn't give a damn about who thinks what about me.
Copyright © Kellie Thomas | Year Posted 2013
The manipulation and control of the masses
Is a world government agenda and constitution
Newer technology and the information computer revolution
Are powerful weapons to spread evil deeds and even more pollution
The slave masters crack the whip the rich get richer
The poor poorer powerless aboard a sinking ship.
Out of manufactured chaos
Comes apathy and fear
Making nations easier to control
And sell their souls sometimes unwaveringly
Blind to the powers that be commands.
Propaganda to gain support for wars
Bank crashes like never before
To take our money
And make rhe rich richer
Government leaks and lies spread to cause hate
And justify what the powers that be create.
Puppets on strings controlled by the powerful who lurk in the shadows
The real rulers of the world never seen
Ruthless greedy evil and mean.
For those not blind with open mind
The jigsaw puzzle slowly fits together
Piece by piece and the bigger picture is released
The truth they'll never be peace
The snares are their so take care
Open your eyes free your mind so you can see
World manipulation and subliminal brainwashing in your own home
Through the media and TV.
So many good people in the spotlight have tried to warn us before
And tried to revile the truth and the secrets
But were silenced and found dead on the floor.
Peter Dome.copyright.2015. June.
Copyright © Peter Dome | Year Posted 2015
The traveler reeked of weariness,
His companion was Fatigue
Wear upon his clothes suggest
He'd come a million league.
Gaunt were eyes deep set and brown
Above his cheekbones high
His being was pure somnolence
And I heard his silent cry.
Hard roads had been his travel
The pains chiseled on his face
In lines of furrows on his brow
Around I saw no motion there, then ...
His head began to rise
Finally he looked at me ...
Suffering in his eyes.
So quietly I attended
And with a heavy heart
I wanted so to speak to him ...
But knew not how to start
Within his labored breathing
He then began to speak
His words, when finally spoken
Were truthful and unique
His lips worked to form the words -
Then said; "My name is: Common Man,
I'm a father; I've worked hard;
' always done the best I can.
"The road's become uphill and steep with
Burdens I can't propel
I've tried to move on forward -
But, I stumbled here - and fell.
"There are others on me
Who so do depend
I must move on forward,
This mustn't be my end.
"Now I must reach out to you
'Cause before I've never failed
I'm turning now to you
'Fore on hardships I'm impaled".
A calloused hand then extended
Toward my outstretched hand
And I want to heed the call
For this Common Man.
But, Greed and Avarice have won
And assistance can't be lent -
Wall Street, you see, owns me now:
I'm Your Government.
Copyright © Jack Clark | Year Posted 2014
In my innocence I went out into the world
Eager to learn all the lessons I can hold
The things I’d learn I’d love to share
Alas, people found me to be quite bold.
I distinctly felt the tension in the air
When I was little and went to a fair
It was outside the town where I grew up
People stared at us head to foot and kinky hair.
I shrugged my shoulders, I did not mind
I wanted to play with kids that were kind
But their folks did not like a colored child
Touch skin to skin with their children, later I’d find.
I learned the first lesson about discrimination
The hard way, from a small child’s perception
I will fight for my right with all my might
This I vowed unto myself with all determination.
And so from that day on, I pushed for emancipation
From the shackles of a closed mind, a liberation
How dare you think I'm lower than you are
When our blood is the same color red, under examination?
We have come a long way indeed, I know
For now we can vote, to a master we need not kowtow
Freedom from slavery, gained through sweat and blood
Our children can now speak without fear to friends or foe.
Greater minds have walked these hollowed halls
Than what I can aspire to be with my bold balls
However Sir, that won’t stop me honestly
From continuing to speak my voice, no matter you stall.
Now Sir, tell me, what is the reason you cannot grant
Before I make another speech, but not a rant
Is it not only fair that you declare equal rate
For black or white, as long as he deserves it, and not ignorant?
A black man's thoughts on the prevailing system where blacks are assigned to positions with predominantly lower rates.
17 March 2015
CONTEST : Writings in a Black's Perspective - 1st Place
SPONSOR : Verlena Walker
Copyright © KP Nunez | Year Posted 2015
new nation to craft
founding fathers sought to draft
a declaration of independence
document that made sense
Thomas Jefferson sought to free slaves
but was warned not to make waves
five of thirteen colonies
he had to appease
breaking from British rule
ignited a duel
with each colonial delegate
expressing their regret
they could not sign
they would not find
all men of equal value
heated debate ensued
withdrawn from the declaration
with misgivings and trepidation
eighty-six more years would pass
until the slaves were freed at last
Lincoln paid a high price
when he acted against advice
signing an emancipation proclamation
brought civil war to a nation
twenty percent of our population
lay dead, a chilling affirmation
we failed to see what was right
every color worth as much as white
though the war is formally over now
discrimination we still allow
Talmadge Branch was just one case *
where service was denied by race
Ku Klux Klan remains active too
wounds once healed open anew
and the battle for human rights
fear and hatred still ignites
* In 2008, Florida Attorney General Bob Butterworth
had to take action against a bar in Perry, FL, when they
refused to serve African-American Talmadge Branch
unless he took a seat in a “back room.”
Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2014
I hear the whispers of past souls
That guide me through life’s
Wondrous garden of flowers.
Each flower has a unique
And beautiful bloom.
I see how the fragile and
Delicate injure easily and
Wither and die without protection.
I am amazed at the strength
And endurance of the sturdy.
But most of all. . .
I marvel at the lowly weeds,
Though they be uprooted
And cast out of the garden,
How they find a way to leave their
Seeds behind to grow and flourish---
This poem is a metaphoric view of the weak, the strong and the unwanted people in life.
Dans le jardin de la vie
J'entends les chuchotements
des âmes passées
qui me guident par la vie
Jardin merveilleux des fleurs.
Chaque fleur a un unique
Et belle fleur.
Je vois comment le fragile et
Sensible blessez facilement et
Wither et meurent sans protection.
Je suis stupéfié à la force
Et résistance du vigoureux.
Je m'émerveille aux herbes modestes,
Bien qu'elles soient déracinées
Et fonte hors du jardin,
Comment ils trouvent une
manière de laisser leurs graines derrière
pour se développer et s'épanouir---
Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong | Year Posted 2014
I don't wear a cape around
My neck, breaking the speed of sound
Or capture bad guys in a web
My powers have never fled
From my heart that's where they stay
Secretly until the day
I see injustice come along
Others are treated so wrong
My super powers become stronger
When I can't take it any longer
Hearing stories of bullying
My special skills kick right in
Set loose, no holding them back
My love alert goes on attack
Not stopping for anything
It won't ease up until I bring
All this hatred to a low
I give one huge final blow
Across the land until there is
No more hate or prejudice
Until then, I'm on alert
Making sure there is no hurt
I will be here till the end
All my powers I will send
Into the hearts of those so weak
Mild mannered, shy and meek
That get pushed around each day
I'll make sure it goes away
This promise will be kept for sure
Any kind of hatred I abhor
Copyright © robin davis | Year Posted 2014
King Vlad Redux – Second Cold War
Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin’s grimy fingerprints on current history
are for him nothing to gloat about—au contraire I say emphatically:
His actions bespeak one who’s not an architect for peace—not at all,
rather a quite deceitful dictator and a harbinger of a Second Cold War.
King Vlad’s old Soviet-style actions are clear for all who care to see,
and make no mistake about it—he’s without remorse and a soul to boot.
A Master of Malarkey and an International Bamboozler Supreme, he
certainly is, with a menacing image and not one iota of conscience.
King Vlad risks a Second Cold War with his violation of international
law concerning the blatant, illegal annexation of the Crimean peninsula.
With his brand of new style Soviet adventurism on the march, the Old
Soviet Bear has been resurrected anew—and it’s hot on the prowl again!
King Vlad’s new spirit of nationalism for Russia is not at all progressive
as evidenced by his current war on certain ethnic minorities: Jews, Tartars,
Armenians, Gypsies—to include anyone who chooses to resist and protest
against his new age fanaticism rebranded anew in the twenty-first century.
King Vlad’s lineage to and proclivity for the old Soviet Union and its star
cast of past gangster luminaries: Lenin, Stalin, Beria, Molotov, Brezhnev,
and Andropov—to name a few, are quite telling since they reflect the real
nature of his psyche and the tragedy he brings now to the world stage.
And lest we forget, the innocent souls of the murdered passengers from flight
MH17 in eastern Ukraine who cry out, as do their families, for justice from
the criminal thuggery and hooliganism perpetrated by King Vlad in support
of proxy groups that do his evil biddings soaked in lies, treachery, and deceit.
King Vlad takes pleasure in fulfilling a fanciful role today of the old Soviet
Bolshoi Nachalnik (Big Boss), whose historical antecedents from Soviet Big
Bosses of past fame, doesn’t augur well for future democracy in New Russia,
and doesn’t align with the precepts of good governance and human rights.
King Vlad’s treachery and deception are certainly open for everyone to see
as he executes his plan of disrupting the balance of the current world order.
We all should be forewarned of the clouds of tyranny and aggression that
could be unleashed one day on the European continent and the world today.
King Vlad, despite very strong objections and economic sanctions imposed
by Western leaders and diplomats, understands only one word rendered so
poignantly in the German language: die Macht (or Power), which lurks ever
behind his public mask and psychological makeup as a former KGB officer.
King Vlad’s actions reflect his virtues of lying, denying, accusing, rejecting,
and criticizing—all poison arrows in his quiver as a Master of Prevarication.
His real mask is that of a Monster who had the very best Soviet teachers and
wishes to tilt the axis of his New Russia on a collision course with the West.
And so Generalissimo Stalin . . . how do you like your nasty little boy now???
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved (November 30, 2014)
Copyright © Gary Bateman | Year Posted 2014