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Like A Girl

Listen to poem:
Like A Girl 

I play like a girl, I hit like a girl
You say I throw like a girl, 
And, when I run -- I run like a girl!
All that plus more, enjoy this one size fits all

Who and what I want comes from being strong 
Classy and fabulous, 
THIS is my song!

I've been told, cut to size
The world dark and gray, when life becomes an insult
Take heed when I speak my mind, 
I am tough, outstanding and beautiful!

Move ahead --- say it twice, I smell nice
A taste of Cool Water and Justice Perfume
I have a non-stop multitask fixation
Like a woman, everything about me is hidden 
Magic and alluring the only joy in sexuality you'll need

I'm empowering this moment!
Endorsing Myself, with a certain sorta mystique
I deliver an independent will, 
     don't ever underestimate my physique

I am a caregiver, a female who won't give up the fight
I remain firm and believe all women have equal rights
I walk and talk Like A girl 
    wearing heels Breaking the sound of Annabel

       Like, Mona's unforgettable smile, 
       I stand tall Like Miss Liberty
       I am, Betsy Ross, America's #1 designer
            Harriet, who escaped slaver-y 
       Like Theresa and Mary, I'm here to give change
       I am, Hilary overwhelmed with determination
       A leader -- A Goddess, I burn like Joan
       ---Cleopatra in the room
       ---Calamity Jane's wild side
       Emelia's, won't give up heart
       I am Anne, with a secret hidden spot
       Susan B, with the right to vote
       Emily who writes deep and pretty

The sound In your eyes aren't listening!
You imagine I am weak -- not strong enough -- brave enough, 
You call me different and difficult!
Still, you want my warmth -- my love -- my attention

I am not less, I am more
I am a woman -- I frown -- I cry -- I hurt and yell at the universe
Nevertheless, I make a difference
Like a girl, I smile
A smile never seen or felt before, both defined and undefined
Your heart will ask and implore for more

Like a girl, I'll drive you wild, looking pretty "You're In Love!"
My Self confidence comes from who I am deep inside
Everything I've become follows the makeup on my face
Bare and nude, I am the Madonna flowering the mood

At the end of every day, I have one other thing to say
The Next Time You ask me to cook and clean
Because you think, I belong in the kitchen
You better believe I'm doing it my way

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2015

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Seems like I could be on top of the world.
I think about poetry like my tongue is pearled.
Just the other day I wrote a poem to honor another poet.
I spun around in a spin to unfurl to the Soupers whorled.
I know they think they’re the bombshell.
They are big headed and believe their words cast the spell.
They vortex puts us in a whirlpool.
They billow swells.
Soupers let’s keep it real.
The universe zeal.
We entertain each other with our thoughts.
Poetry is our appeal.
We write to regale.
Anything else considered is to no avail.
I laugh aloud.
Soupers the advantage is a tall tale.
I am here to share-out.
That there is such a thing as an amateur in the house.
I know many fill the title of a poet professional.
This is where real skills are grandeur and profound.
Soupers, the truth expose.
A writer’s right shows.
Angstrom to a wavelength, the brain thinks and the mind depicts.
As a Poetess, here I throw it to the wind; that it is you with the *******.

To the Souper who asked for a rebuttal to his slam.
Penned February 18, 2015!

Copyright © Verlena S. Walker | Year Posted 2015

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Common Man

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
Permanently enlaced

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

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Seeking Equality - My Spirit

Lonely days and nights of childhood spent in tears, no comfort wishing for a gentle caress, a peck aching for the tender words weary of the ignorance my heart cries for the child in me Unjust is the love that singles out a child, the rest yearn, birthed by the same as if a duty thats done and then discarded to climb, no support to be lent they wander till the end my heart cries for them where is the glory that the world sings of motherly love and care where is the justice that prevails the right of every child they sing of equality, when at home the child feels unfair oh ruthless world I beseech prithee give a care. © (12 May '15) * Honorable mention in the contestShow me your spirit' by FJ Thomas on 19 May 2015.

Copyright © poesy relish | Year Posted 2015

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CONQUERING THE BLIND SCALES OF PATRIARCHY Crystal cold are the pupils of some men staring red to jailed porcelain dolls skin dowered for the title of chastity, your curves, your swell, they treated like machines. You can be the light midst darkness, woman yet why they see your body as gold mines, your face displays no favor from their sight. Fruits of labor you bring harvest nothing your virginal flesh dead ere blossoming suspended by sharp claws of ignorance? Aged with grief but rising from conquered fears, woman today shake white-walled home of kings to trumpet-loud the darkness in her feet... Wounded is her heart but still she will stand, her message free flying high without wings She will fight even with the threats of death balancing blind scales of patriarchy, Fears foregone, her bravery stifling pain, peace and justice, equality to all the rights for women her ever after toil! ______________________________________________________ Patriarchy - Poetry Contest Sponsor Name - Thomas Martin ~~Placed 1st~~~ Olive Eloisa Guillermo 10:41 pm, July 16, 2015

Copyright © Olive Eloisa Guillermo - Fraser | Year Posted 2015

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My Cloud - John G Lawless


I don’t remember asking…..			
yet I am still hearing a babbling brook
of mindless chatter rolling pebbles
through my ears and across my mind.
Noisome, acridly scented, sounds,
a Charlie Brown like… wah–wah-wah
droning in the background of my life.
“You can’t say that!”  “It might offend
somebody – somewhere – someday.”
“How can you even think that way??!!!”
“Don’t you care how other people feel?”
“Do you have any feelings at all for them?”
“You can’t do THAT!”  “WHAT WILL
PEOPLE THINK!” “ Didn’t you see that sign?”
“Why can’t you just follow instructions, do
what you’re told, believe that we are right,
that WE know what is best for you?”
“If you ate less there would be more food
to feed the hungry.”(Yeah but then I’d be hungry.)
“If you drove less there would be more fuel
for others to burn and fewer emissions.”
(How the hell does that work???)
“If you would only follow all the shoulds
and musts then you’d know the reasons
why you should entrust the future of the
planet, the diet of your kids, to those of
us entitled to pry off freedom’s lids.”
“Every voice is equal when every voice
is heard.” (That could be said of cows
and sheep  and noise within the herd.)
“What is it that you want?”, they ask
in obvious disdain and shudder when
I mention my First Amendment claim.
I wish that those who speak their minds
would allow me to do the same without
their constant reprimand “that I should
be ashamed”.  When I speak, and write, and
act in a manner that I choose, I shouldn’t
be belittled by the puppets of the fools.
I do not need the politics of food, sex,
and lies, nor special interest groups that
see only through “their” eyes.  I cannot
be an island, so I choose to be a cloud -
sit above the melee of “their” ever
spreading shroud.  Therefore, the
conversations may be ended by
a verse, a substantial update
from the “islands” brutal curse
as I, in karaoke style, sing a
sixties refrain aloud:


**The Rolling Stones – Get off of My Cloud(1965)

John G. Lawless

Copyright © John lawless | Year Posted 2015

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I am a Child- Poem written for Restore a Child Organization

I am a child
Like the one you tuck in bed
The one you kiss on the head
The one who gets loved instead
The one who is so well fed
I am a child

I am a child
Like the one who gives you joy
Your pretty girl and fine boy
The one who gets every toy
The one who none dares annoy
I am a child

I am a child
With no home to call my own
The cold reaching to my bone
Hunger pangs, all that I’ve known
In tattered clothes, I have grown
I am a child

I am a child
The pavement my only bed
Dreaming of a piece of bread
With a small heart full of dread
My life hanging from a thread
I am a child

I am a child
With no gifts beneath the tree
With no hope to be set free
Wanting like YOUR child to be
Why, oh, why, can’t you love ME?

I am a child
I am YOUR child
I am GOD’s child
Remember me this Christmas….

Eileen Manassian Ghali

I'm privileged that Norma Nashid, founder of Restore a Child, has asked me to be an ambassador for the organization to help raise awareness of the plight of less fortunate children around the world. She asked me to write a poem for their newsletter, and I am sharing her FB post regarding it here with you.

(The poem below was written by Eileen Manassian Ghali, a professor of English at Middle East University in Beirut, Lebanon. She dedicated her poem this Christmas to Restore a Child. Her mother, Angel Dikran Manassian was my favorite teacher and my first teacher in school. Now I get the honor of enjoying the beautiful writing of her daughter, Eileen.--Norma Nashed)

If you are interested in finding out more about this humanitarian organization, please look them up on FB. I will be writing an article soon to highlight the plight of Syrian Refugee children in Lebanon. I hope my Mama would be proud of me! (latest newsletter)

My poem will be published in the next edition

Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2013

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Devils favorite things

How can people want rights but they aren't right
While working in the daylight with souls bright as night
The creator shall judge the judges, The evil deserves evil
Good people will get what is equal to their actions
And immoral skin passions have fatal lessons 
God has a scale where He weighs & sits 
Because everything has equal opposite
We selfish to others but hold our nose when they sell theirs
And not giving pardons while expecting God’s cares
And blessings while leaving others with our bee stings
Now turn to your devil’s favorite things
Praying to join the heavenly choir 
But with an evil song you desire 
So retire before you join the hell fire.

To be right there's no wrong, the righteous are morally strong
You need more than calcium to be the backbone of society
While society breaks you, to makes you. Surprisingly,
The -able are ignorant and unstable 
Unable to add-up in the moral table
Telling fables of multiplication while being divided
Trying to add reasoning in facts provided
Their individualism is subtracting from the fold
Being percentages of a percentage, losing the stronghold
False foundation told about a “Doomed Youth”
While the witty wise horde the fake truth
As the truly righteous shake their head and sings
Go ahead with the devil’s favorite things
Praying to join the heavenly choir 
But with an evil song you desire 
So retire before you join the hell fire.

The battle of truth lies in the beheading of lies
The Righteous must write us 
For justice to be just to us and right us
Bleeding thoughts to think, words to ink
Carving insight to push sanity to the brink
Punching Intel, in mind, for knowledge to sink
Unfold stories consoled foretell tails told
Today's prophets profit profits with souls they forfeit
Crumbling towers with warped foundations
Ripping families but cursed lives they’re facin’
Losing the troubleshooting; uprooting with a booting
Bearing false fruits flawed brings
Now play with your devil’s favorite things 
Praying to join the heavenly choir 
But with an evil song you desire 
So retire before you join the hell fire.

Copyright © siza sibiya | Year Posted 2013

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Not Too Late for Tears- Girl Rising

She held her mother’s hand
As tears made their way
Down the face called
“Exquisite, beautiful, charming”…
The face that had been her comfort

She could not absorb the pain in her words
“Nothing…I feel...nothing
If I could only feel a little of what my friends describe
That feeling of”…she sighed
“Of….of giddiness…
They say it’s like…like…
The beating of a drum..faint at first and then
Beating louder and louder until…
Until you want to explode with the strength
of the vibrations
Tingling all over”…
She covered her face with her hands
“Instead…I try to imagine it as we lie together…
Hoping I can please, can satisfy…
Your father.”

Talking about private matters
Was difficult in her culture
Now, home on semester break
She heard her mother share
The horror of that night
When as a child they held her
Kicking and screaming
Exposing her most private parts
Cutting away the center of desire
The essence of her womanhood
That had been cloistered
In the folds of safety
Leaving her….scarred
She squeezed her mother’s hand
This woman whose every move
Made men stare
Exuding sexual charm
She was the epitome
Of every womanly grace….
Yet...unable to feel the fluttering
That some time ago
Had slowly awakened in her own frame
Mysterious sensations

Her mother’s tears
Now fell from her own eyes
She bowed her head in shame
Wanting to blame
Her grandparents for following
The stupid traditions of their world…
Thinking it was best…

Her mother enfolded her in an embrace
And rocked her
“Shhh….don’t cry…
It’s too late for tears now"…

“I’m so so sorry, Mama,” she whispered,
Pulling away
Her mother reached out to wipe her tears
“Feel sorry for your father
I see the pain in his eyes…
Knowing that I cannot feel what he feels…
Often, he won't approach me, but I entice him
I dance for him”…
She smiled…caressing a memory
“He stole my heart
The moment he looked at me with those eyes
How I wish he could see, the fire of his eyes
Burning in mine." 

It that moment, it took shape
The career that had remained
Unborn…in the womb of her mind
She would be the voice…of every little girl
Who had ever screamed in shame
She’d speak…
For the little girl her mother used to be
For all the others that were to come
So they wouldn't have to grow up
With eyes that reflected pain instead of passion
The pain she now witnessed
…in her mother’s eyes!
No, it was not too late to cry…
Her tears now would be tomorrow’s tears
Of some woman’s tender and sweet release

Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2013

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Change the world

Stagnant hateful world we live 
Something has got to give
 Mass destruction of the human soul
Innocent lives have become the toll
False prophets who have manipulated the word
Has planted a seed in every boy and girl 
  It's time to take back ALL our lost
 And teach them love at any cost 
Stop judging people on how they look
Or who they love,or what book

Copyright © Jessica Zorn | Year Posted 2016

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Be Free

“ Be Free”

          None of all the people knows me like the rest
                       Yet they judge me the best
                    They say bad things about me
                        That I’m a hero wanna be

               The truth is that they don’t know me
                  All they see about me is negativity
             Is it because I’m not cool like they’re hero
              All I can say is that I don’t care about you

          They call me a thief a thug and laugh about it
                       I’ll just get my phone and sit
                   Turn the volume of the music high
                            Then I’ll just sleep or cry

                       All of the misunderstandings  
              People who are calling me bad names
                 Rejecting me hurting me criticize me
  This world have rejected me but I just wanna fly in the sky and be free  

Copyright © Lance Christopher Esmas | Year Posted 2015

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The Right

         The Right 
   I feel in my world
      we all have a 
  but to use that voice 
        is your own
you have the right to
      make a good
  you have the right to
     look at a happy
We all have a right to
     Belong in this
     it should not
   matter about the
 I feel in my world 
   We all have a
  But to use that 
   Voice is your

Copyright © Carly Kelley | Year Posted 2015

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Idle hands scorching a trail
Through the Capitol
Closed mouths and hearts turn daggers
Biting our own tongues

And the streets are red rivers 
Through which they drive
golden chariots over the backs
of their forefathers

Words falter, slave and master
plebeian and patrician
And whips silence in return
They dream of a revolt
While breaking their necks to bow

We do protest hotly
In secret chambers
Tear down the throne!
Hang the tyrants!

A bloody revolution!
Let's  then schedule it for the 
King's convenience

Hear she comes, most lovely
She'd slit our throats 
With pleasure
O Gods save our Queen!
She'll pluck this acedia 
from our cold dead hands!

Slaughter the innocent
Distract us with wars!
O Brutus save us from 
our apathy!

What will it take
for our walls to break?
O give us liberty
or at least grain at
our own price!

Give us our tribunes!
There can be no
Republic until
the people speak

Inspired by my research for a story. This deals specifically with the establishment of the 
Roman Republic, but plenty of this still rings true to me. Acedia = apathy.

Copyright © A.E. Rivenbark | Year Posted 2014

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my promise land

to have and have not
is reason lent to logic
and reality left to disspare

to my heart oh, not where?
the place of peace not there
then where can the weary traverse
where the dreams are not night mares
loud noises not explosions
loud voices not fights
and darkness a place to sleep
rather than a place to hide

who is it that insist
on our depravity
whilst we are not in captivity
fleeced of menial freedoms
by a monsoon of unjust laws

furious my psyche can deduce
that i am not wanted here
in the midst of all the false advertisement
one country can give 
about how much blood was
spilled to make them free

do we dare to think
that this excludes me
have not i been knitted into
the matrix of this thing
called freedom

have my dreams deceived me
about the land of the free
are not rights given in duplicity
and these ideals; do they not 
come from God

to have and have not
the rights of men
and the peace there in
belonging to every citizen

Copyright © john loving iii | Year Posted 2009

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You know my torment you hear my cry

Watching the television
Reading the news
I ask not for your views
your case for war is farcical
Your indifference to human suffering is immoral
Yet you call yourselves men of faith and children
Of the clothe
You place your anger on vests of death and drop
Your bombs from birds like rain you kill and maim
And say its in his holy name
To feed your never-ending thirst for greed
You cut the green from the equators belt and clear
The forest to add more wealth
You leave me no clean air to smell
And then you persecute my life and so deprive me
Of my rights and when I rebel and demonstrate
You steal my vote
And filled with hate you lock me up behind
Eelectric gates
And when the continents of ice tell their story
Of immanent demise
You show no concern as winter begs for something cold 
and summer has no layer to hold Its scorching heat 
now uncontrolled
You know my torment you hear my cry
Deliver us from lying lips deceitful tongues and
But you turn your sightless gaze aside
The winds though hear my plea and come with
Vengeance as they blow and the rains fall torrential
As they go
And twisters twirl in lands they do not know
The seas lash out with anger in its waters rising
And the earth trembles as the mountains rumble
And fire comes from deep below
Your buildings now come crashing down
The land erodes to only rock and cost you billions
To put them back
And caged in temples of your conceit
You sit and wonder why
And Mother Nature smiles in the aftermath
Of your demise

Earl S. Jackson
Aug 2006

Copyright © 2006 Earl S. Jackson, all rights reserved.

Copyright © Earl Jackson | Year Posted 2006

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Ode to the Brave Catalan People

Do you remember Guernica—the Basque town once
flattened by Hitler's and General Franco's bombers—
with the blessing of “democratic” Britain and France?
Neither Washington, nor even the League of Nations
raised their voices to protest this vile act of genocide....
Only Picasso's “Guernica,” a mural-size oil painting on canvas,
reminds us of this monstrous crime—from Madrid to Kansas.

The Catalan homeland of Salvador Dali, Joan Miró,
Montserrat Caballé, Antoni Gaudi, and Pablo Picasso
is now again under a violent attack—by Franco's heir
and good pupil, Mariano Rajoy, whose fascist goons
have descended like murderous vultures from the air
upon the innocent and defenseless Catalans demanding
their country's liberty, dignity, sovereignty and fair share.

Where is the European Union, whose military jets killed
many thousands of guileless, undefended civilian Serbs—
just to give “independence” to Kosovo's mutinous Muslims?
Will the heirs to Hitler's and Mussolini's Neue-Ordnung guild
call now for Catalan freedom, justice and independence?
No, Brussels remains unmoved by the bloody outbursts
in Barsa, seeing them as a sign of democracy's ascendance.

Why the silence, governments of “democratic" Europe, why? 

Copyright © Ross Vassilev | Year Posted 2017

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A right to live

A right to free movement

A right to live

Where we want

Should be our perogative

We should not feel that we can not roam

Or decide to set down new roots

Or to find a new home.

Borders are a man made concept

Nothing to with nature or creations set up

They were created by those who wish to rule

Making it easy for them control

Dividing people into smaller groups

Then instilling within them a tribal instinct,

Selling them an identity of nationhood

Proud to march under flags and anthems

Creating many individual races

This started back as further than the dark ages

Almost since the dawn of man

A flaw that may see us all dammed

Unless we begin to evolve back into a state

The we started off as

Just one race

That allows everyone to share

And move around the planet

Sharing cultures, faith and love

Sharing the wealth of which there's more than enough

Working in communities to create much more

One mass co-operative force

Respecting the resources of this earth

Not just exploiting it for all its worth

But nurturing and using permaculture to grow

The foundations of the seeds we grow

And fostering tolerance between us all

Building a peace that is eternal

Putting an end to war through self rule

Existentialism becomes the new tool

Of being your own authority

Showing kindness and compassion to all

This is my dream I share with you all

One race

One love

One peace is may call.

Copyright © fauxcroft wade | Year Posted 2018

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Nation's Damnable Blight

                            Nation’s Damnable Blight

Black slender man, bent twig on the branch of a slave’s family tree,  
Planted in white culture during infamous time of our history, 
From seed transported in the belly of those infernal slave ships.
Bitter tears flowing from his eyes; angry words pouring from his lips. 

Spent by long days in fields under hot skies of one hundred degrees,
Living in substandard shacks: wife and babes bearing winter’s freeze.
Broken panes breach for frigid wind; shabby roofs sieve for cold raindrops,
Family worked from sun up to dark to reap the precious crop.
Truth is, most were prisoners of the system evil men devised.
Many struggling to be free from what politicians camouflaged. 
Wisdom overrules such folly and the proverb is most profound;
Holding one down makes holder as much a captive as one held down.

This nation, “land of the brave and free”, held out freedom’s lamp to all,
Went out one ominous night and over “liberty’s lamp” threw a pall.
Had wiser men with hearts of love been ruled by God’s Divine Light,
Black and white would have been spared this great nation’s damnable blight.  

Copyright © David G. Moore | Year Posted 2017

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                         Fighting for 

                   One's birthright to


© Demetrios Trifiatis
     05 January 2018


Copyright © Demetrios Trifiatis | Year Posted 2018

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Everyone's Breath Not Their Own

This happens all the time
everyone's given own breath
every moment without fail
right up till their own death

Life can't live without one
utterly impossible so very true
recognise it's God's own gift
heavenly sent for each to do

Ponder as you next breathe
be grateful for what you've got
realise how you're truly blessed
for without it you've not a lot

Life is an awesome thing
not everyone has equal span
some are short others long
but they are all evidence of man

God is pleased to give man this
through it his life will tell a tale
ambition and achievement can be got
no matter the outcome succeed or fail

Copyright © Gordon McConnell | Year Posted 2017

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When Reason Goes Out The Window

I find it curious that people will debate the nature of God, with one side saying it is irrelevant as He doesn't exist and the other sure they can pin down the nature, the complexity, of a Being so far beyond the comprehension of any human being (as my human reason tells me must be the case), yet they never seem to question how weird HUMAN nature is. Our country, which has produced in its relatively short history the best blueprint for human freedom that has ever existed in the world-- the U.S. Constitution-- is being riven by a wave of emotion-- on both sides of the political spectrum-- that appears to be throwing away not only reason but the essence of our freedom that millions of our forefathers died for in multiple wars. And most of us don't even seem to see it! 
Hitler came to power in part due to Dr. Goebbels, a true evil genius. Goebbels knew if you told people little lies, they wouldn't believe you but if you told them a BIG LIE, they would and the more outrageous the better. What is appalling is not that he told the people of the most advanced country the world had ever seen at the time (Germany led in science, medicine, technology, the arts, etc.) that Jews ate gentile children, the homosexuals could 'turn' heterosexuals, that Gypsies and Slavs were subhuman beasts, but that millions of people believed it!
This dehumanizing of the other is nothing new: the early Christians were fed to the lions,; later Christians in the  crusades massacred Muslims, Jews and other Christians; the glory of the French Revolution devolved into the Reign of Terror; perhaps a million women (and some men) were burned as witches in Europe and even in the U.S. at Salem, ALL killed based on unproven allegations. Atheist regimes have been no better: Stalin's show trials; Mao's purges in the Great Leap Forward; the Killing Fields of the Khmer Rouge.
Sadly it seems many--most?-Americans don't appreciate that our Constitution and Bill of Rights changed history by presuming innocence UNTIL proven guilty BEYOND a reasonable doubt, something new in history (under Napoleonic law you are presumed guilty until and unless you can prove your innocence, which means trying to prove a negative when the only evidence against you is an accusation.)
How far this will go in America I don't know, but history and human nature don't make me optimistic. If we go on like this, the innocent will suffer, either punished for crimes they did not do or not believed for victimization they suffered. 

Copyright © L. J. Carber | Year Posted 2018

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Freedom is never free.
Respect our liberty.
Enjoy its many rights.
Expect it may cause fights.
Democracy survives,
Only if backed with lives.
May we not let it die.


Copyright © Bartholomew Williams | Year Posted 2017

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RIOT Palpable is change. The Lord stated this in Psalms. The world is in an arrest. When change does manifest, what questions will we ask? Palpability to change is a child mind’s eye. She sees into the future and the past. Her destiny will form as her life is discovered. Reach for the moon to go beyond the clouds. Inform the world that brutality is not allowed. Offer a peaceful assembly to stop the violence. This is to return peace to all of our lives. The world is in an arrest. When questions are not asked, many protest to express their frustration. Police brutality is shown and communities demonstrate - That hate is hate. They march in the streets to display their distress. Seeking justice and peace from social injustice. Distinctive is togetherness and unity of thought. The Lord stated in Psalms that change is palpable. Reach for the moon to go beyond the clouds. Inform the world that brutality is not allowed. Offer a peaceful assembly to stop the violence. This is to return peace to all of us - to all of our lives. _____________________________________| Poetry Diva Ms. Verlena S. Walker Penned May 12, 2015!

Copyright © Verlena S. Walker | Year Posted 2015

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Eating, bathing, grooming, defecating and sleeping All these are activities of daily living We are breathing same air Combing everyday our own hair Warmed and darkened by same sun Sleeping after a whole day is done Shot or cut; black and blues we can have Different type but our hearts same. It beats with blood! One time or another we feel sad and glad! You love games and fun. And I,too, is same! Walk, run, talk, smile, cry: all we can do unless for some exemptions Wholeheartedly without hesitations and inhibitions... Captain on our own ships Generals on our own everyday battles Prima ballerina on our own life dance Managers on our own businesses Teachers on our own examples and words Leaders on our own small or big ways Builders and engineers of our own dreams And much much more than we can imagine... But... What are those frowns? Why are those arched eyebrows? What are those questioning belittling look? What and why are those foul remarks? Different skin; different creed Different names, different race Different status; different styles Different lands, different tongues _ The bottomline is God made me and God made you Respect me and I will respect you That we ought to do No need for clue nor cue DO RESPECT BECAUSE IT IS DUE We are equal of dignity Each and everyone possess a deal of integrity All are blessed All are gifted with talents Capable of enhancing a potential And discovering any other grace Explore! Taste the spice! Speak humbly and be nice! You maybe surprise!?! How each and one can entice! Therefore, you! You who are racists! CUT! CRACK! SLAM THAT RACISM CRAP! Take a stand and make it grand! No need for plans! Hand and hand let's make this earth a better land!
(C) Olive Eloisa 12:55am June 11, 2014 * This a terrible truth that still in this modern world we are in RACISM is still present as cruel as it was before.

Copyright © Olive Eloisa Guillermo - Fraser | Year Posted 2014

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Human Rights Day

Brought forth into this world
an innocent child, by birth;
yet born equal and free
in rights and dignity.

Live and let live
this gift the recognition
as an unique individualised person.
Let it grow in the freedom of laughter
and own thoughts of its happy ever-after…
Let it be, let it strive
let it be alive –
it has the right to life and liberty
and is enfolded by the hands of security.

Grow up, little child,
you are free
from imprisonment and slavery.
Do not fear of being abused
or unjustly treated or used.
You are worthy of a shield that fights
for your undivestable human rights.

Be not afraid to live,
to love and to forgive;
to wipe away all sorrow –
there might be no tomorrow…
Go ahead – trust, believe, pray;
you have the freedom to do it in whatever way.
The freedom to thought, conscience and religion –
Child, you have the right – it is your decision.

By being educated, being drilled
you may one day change the world.
Promulgate what you know now
and contently observe just how
this diverse world instantly unites
when fighting for its human rights.

Copyright © Birgit Johannes | Year Posted 2015