Best Survivors Poems
They call me Brave Heart
Not because of my courage but because it is my last name
And not because I "like" Mel Gibson that much but because it is
how I was raised.
Half black and native girl raised on the Reservation
With the beautiful people of The Oglala Lakota Nation.
Two times their tone
as a dark girl among Natives I was taught to hold my own.
You see it is the two worlds that brought me light
And it is my last name that gives me the strength to fight.
They call me Brave Heart
Like the beat of a drum
And the hold of a knot, my destiny cannot be undone.
High centered in between
A mixture of African decent and Indigenous being.
I see the greater picture
And I write the words to my own scripture.
I feel the power of my ancestors blood through my veins
And I scream out their existence in my last name. LILILILILILI
I was shackled and beaten as my African mothers
And I share in the pain of the slave trade with my sisters and brothers
Our truths will prevail through HIStory,
And we will restore our Ancestors glory.
They call me Brave Heart
But my skin and biracial split aren't what separate me from the rest
I just know that born into this life I am blessed
I am grateful for those who fought for me and our bloodline to pull through
And I am here today to fight for them too.
You cannot defeat those who are not afraid to die,
And you cannot fool those who see through lies.
Although we were hit with everything from slavery to genocide
they could still never kill Our Native and Black pride.
We know exactly who we are
Because the blood in us proves our ancestors pushed us far.
It is not over for us
We have refilled our cup,
So no matter how much you knock us down we will
Stand back up.
They call us Brave Hearts.
Akiza - a war cry used to celebrate the spirit of our ancestors and their fight- LILILILILI
"Umbrellas"
Tears fall heavy on their poetry umbrellas they use as shields,
underneath the heart sits like a bucket empty of sunlight,
it attempts to reassure them some storms are meant to be -
the purpose to uproot them like dandelions
scattered to all corners of strange worlds, pages and stories read like maps,
there, in those places, the seeds fall and are planted;
they take to growth, in the soil, or not;
sometimes the Sun gets in
sometimes the eyes in hidden faces
are sometimes seen uplifting;
the mind hijacked,
blindfolded, gagged and ignored
is bestilled - again -
the heart stands before it,
sometimes it speaks for all
that has gone on before;
in that place, sometimes
the Sun gets in, it burns,
it leaves its imprint
Candide Diderot. ‘25
Matthew 18:3 (NIV)
actually....the entire chapter. Matthew 18 (NIV).
...how all that applies to the feelings and the survival mechanism of children (and children turned adult) child s-a survivors - will be taken on, or disgarded, in their own unique way. Many child s-a survivors would not be high in the 'forgiveness' factor. Respect and trust is walking a thin line, after walking on eggshells.
I TOLD YOU
I told you that Uncle Danny touched me
It hurt and made me cry
I told you I didn’t like him
You said I shouldn’t lie.
I told you my bra got snapped in class
That I was treated like a toy
Your response was simply
That boys will be boys.
I told you I was raped
By a man that I knew
Despite my tears and anger
You asked what did I do.
I told you a man came in my dorm
Violated me after breaking my door
When I reported to campus police
They asked me what I wore.
I told you my boss
Grabbed my breast at work
I wanted to file a complaint
You replied just ignore the jerk.
I got groped at the club last night
By this guy who was a punk
I wanted to call the police
You told me that he’s just drunk.
I’ve been telling you these things
Happen year after year
You say you are listening
But do you really hear?
I told you these things happened to me
As you laugh, scoff, and snort
Blaming and shaming endlessly
And you wonder why we don’t report.
I wonder when these excuses will end
Even though the road seems insurmountable
When will society stand
And start holding abusers accountable?
Until then I will continue forward
With my words as proof
I shall walk in the light
And stand in my truth.
My mother and aunts
All suffered from breast cancer
Mom’s right breast removed
She had the choice to abort
But she risked her life for me
At first, I was not considered or given the time of day.
I was very disappointed for being treated in such a way.
I requested a little consideration, to enter their conversation.
I had more experience and qualifications for that top position.
They thought about me, conversed about me, and then said "No".
No, because they had other ideas for that spot, and it did not include me.
I was okay with that, because at least I had demanded their respect.
Perhaps to appease me, I was given a token position and a title.
I gave it my best shot, but it just didn't fit and within a year, I quit.
Filled with faith and self-respect but no job, I didn't worry; I'm a survivor.
No money, no food, no welfare line, but I found a job to become a baker.
New job, a nice apartment, a nice car; my wife and baby; we were survivors.
God made me this way, and I give Him much praise for seeing me and my
family through the hard times of our early years. Make no mistake about it,
those early years of struggle and toil build strength, gratitude, and character.
Such adversities also prepare us for the latter years.
08302017PS
When hope no longer sustains us
and all that's left is debris
scattered across the landscape of our heart
When terrible winds of angry storms
cloak blue skies in a frightening rush of darkness
and nothing is left to the eyes but a scar of despair
etched in the stunned silence of our tired faces
as we search for yesterday's sun
among dawn's gleaming light
trapped between the cycle of black ominous clouds
from our emotional hurricane of constant howling screams
that broke the bonds of love away from its moors
and brought finality to fingers parting
while still clinging until the last through the storm
as it stoled our memories of when we were warm together
leaving us alone and exhausted
10/22/20 contest After the Hurricane
We take the pain,
And get through our lives.
For in the end,
that's how we survive.
The hours that seem unbearable,
For the days that turn out unforgettable.
We fight on strong,
knowing that giving up is wrong.
Remembering the ones who stayed by our sides,
Even when they saw the tides.
Its hard to keep going,
But its our choice to keep pushing.
We get to live out our lives,
Because we are survivors!!
The people who were still alive
Helped other survivors revive
All this didn’t bother
An excellent father
Who just taught his daughter to drive
You hear that knock on the door
And you dont want to open
Never
You know what's on the other side
Cancer
Disease
But
Its there, already in
Ready to steal, ready to rob
Fierce
And
Its ready to take away the loved one
That friend
That life
Squeezing out the last air
But that loved one, in their young and old
In their strength and weakness
Leaves a fountain of beautiful memories
That will always flow
For us
For others.
To all the survivors whether in death or life
It happened in a second
In the twinkling of an eye
Our vessel was driven unto rock
By a strong southerly wind
And so we lost power in the sea
This led to the shipwreck
Though many on board could swim
But only a few could made it
For many was drowned
When we came to the shore
We found a nearby Island
A place of mystery
As silent as the grave
No home was occupied
Every house had been quitted
We saw a street called Lonely
And so we trod slowly
For a while, more than a mile
We came to a mansion
It captured our attention
A house build with cedar
Maple trees and cinnamon flowers
We took bold steps to enter
Through the gigantic golden door
But the house was dark and empty
One could barely see through the foggy
Except the Inscription on the wall
“Trapped! Welcome to Hell”
Everyone starts to shiver
Suddenly we heard the door slams
Just like the thunder struck
Closely we held each other in panic
Hoping it would ease our fright
But the door slams continues…
With a thick loud voice echoing
“You are doomed’’ he says
With a creepy sound like that of frog
But when he was about to come forth
An angel appeared and struck him dead
Follow me and live! He said
He led us through a part
That leads to some villages
Go! Preach the gospel
You are the chosen ones
Survivors to tell the story
It's been a year since that dreadful and unimaginable episode of Special Action Force occurred.
44 is indeed unacceptable in line of elite force where they called the mission planning assured.
It is not only a couple of weeks nor months but years to scrutinize the said mission they've been ordered.
Specialized SAF Troopers was compromised to that "OPLAN Exodus" just to make our Nation secured.
But why our fellow brothers left behind? Ten hours is quite too long to wait for reinforcement.
Betrayal is such a morbid word for them who doesn't deserved at all for that kind of assignment.
INJUSTICE is nevertheless but an irrational, unbearable and not even a requirement,
To Specialized Troopers who accomplished their mission and knowing what they've done is an achievement.
JUSTICE we cried out to our fellow Troopers who sacrificed their own lives for the sake of our nation!
We will never stand down to seek JUSTICE until the end and truth shall prevail to that agitation.
Because you SAF Fallen 44 Heroes and Survivors relevantly deserved JUSTICE and your sacrifices will be an inspiration,
Not only to the whole world but most of all to the orphaned children who left innocently with a question....
You worked so hard but just exist.
Your high school grad dates you just missed,
evacuated from Ukraine.
In Russia’s army to resist,
you fought the tyrant Hitler’s reign.
You worked so hard but just exist
on meager pensions. You subsist
by choosing food or meds, that’s plain.
No other kinfolks to assist
in taking care of you in midst
of tears and shakes of flashback strain,
you worked so hard but just exist!
Although you made your job’s A-list,
you now wear rags, your joints in pain,
no other kinfolks to assist.
Your teeth all gone, in life’s mean twist,
these lines remain your grim refrain:
You worked so hard but just exist,
no other kinfolks to assist.
To help elderly Holocaust survivors in the former Soviet Union, visit the website of the International Fellowship of Christians and Jews at ifcj.org.
Paper spiders everywhere
Crawling through pinholes in my brain
Cutting the corners of my mouth
Tartaric taste curls my tongue
Forming words I would never say
An inferno of verbs
Flying through gutted roots
It’s warm butter to a blade
Until the right ones land and spread
That's when they begin to ricochet
You’re only hurting yourself.
That’s what they tell me anyway
I’m a dirt digging plant
Living in the embers of memories
That took decades to slowly fade
Put out in tiny doses
On a slow drip of acid rain
It’s the smell of melting gospel
Revealing monstrosities
Awoken from pits of smothered rage
It’s inhumane
To mistreat animals like this
Yet they do nothing
As innocence is stripped away
Some of us still live in cages
Gnashing teeth
Snapping necks at the end of chains
Some of us still live in the embers
Feeling a burn that never fades
I’m recording scars in tree rings
As bark covers wounds with age
Building cages for the demons
Nesting in my conjured rage
2015: WE ARE SURVIVORS
Enemies thought 2015 won’t be our YEAR
They opined that our progress won’t be NEAR
They said among our peers, we would be REAR
Maliciously they instilled in us a kind of FEAR
Even our goodwill and image, enemies did SMEAR
But our God was awesome and brought us CLEAR
In January, enemies waged war against our HEALTH
In June, they now came and attacked our WEALTH
We heard the evil ones have a COMMONWEALTH
They waged the war, unknown to us, in STEALTH
The evil people hid their drawn swords in SHEATH
But Our God did not allow us lose our BREATH
On this last day, we have shown we are SURVIVORS
The holy book says “we are more than CONQUERORS”
In the new year 2016, we shall continue to be VICTORS
To our foes and wailers, we shall be their RAPTORS
The anointing for breakthrough shall, in us, ABIDE
In the presence of the most High, we shall RESIDE
© Wole Popoola December 2015
My Carolyn and I, on Plymouth Hoe we stand
To leave this shire of Devon, to far distant lands
Our desire to leave, and this change in our lives
There's a future out there, for me and my new wife
As I look down on the harbour, at these ships of grand
To be honoured and trusted, my voyage of command
Tomorrow we sail, to the South Seas and beyond
My crew and I, in dutiful naval respond
Even before we set sail, a hurricane did brew
At first we met calm seas, if only we knew
For as we headed south, Atlantic waters churned
Yet still my Highlander's passion in my heart burned
A tsunami grew on the eastern horizon
Would we reach our Caribbean island?
The huge water mass approached and toppled our ship
But James' strong arms ensured that we remained adrift
Tossed and battered, in the midst of her rage
Spewed onto the shore, our bodies and sands engage
Weathered and ashen, we arise in the sun
Deserted and beached, a new day has begun
We view our surrounds, in search of a haven
To collect our thoughts, now in survival craving
It's been many weeks, as we have formed an alliance
Our deserted island called home, in total compliance
A thatched roof he has crafted, shelter from the storms
On this palm-filled beach, two survivors are born
My sweet Highlander climbs and shakes coconuts free
He forages through jungles, brings meat to me
I crafted a spear and have caught many a fish
Whatever I cook, he says it's his favorite dish
When falling sun brings colorful skies, we cuddle
We embrace where nature's other creatures huddle
It's been many many years, on this island of ours
Living with nature, our most wonderful neighbours
We awoke one morning, to see a ship offshore
I turned to my Carolyn, with emotions galore
Do we stay here in paradise, or leave for new lands
It's what we intended, being deserted was not planned
Our signals in tune, we declare to prepare
What we have learnt here, the world needs to share