What do rights mean ?
Is that expectation on something
Or
Someone will provide you
Whether it has any qualifications?
Does it mention that the qualification is
Whites only !
Educated Only!
Rich only !
Land owners only!
Kings Only !
Or
May be God Only !
I don't think any of these suits
As perseverance pursuit ...
The only need qualification to take rights is
Born as a human !!
You are born
You are a soul
Neither good nor bad
But for all good and bad , Rights are common
Voices are common too!
No one can block your voices with their superiority
No can make your voices tremble until you believe yourself
Only then Rights are taken by people in Right way !
We all have things in common
Either Freedom
Or liberty is valuable all breathing organism
Rights should survive when truth is denied
To speak and express you being you
You being your part in this Earth that should always be in Consideration
Only then !
Only then ! Remember
A voice that comes out of a crowd remains to be unique
&
Claim it's Rights !
And things got bad..And things became worse
Then a health opportunity arrived, like could break the curse
Yet the ukranian cheerer, well he just.? Well just
Stood by.' The levers of power..Did not even try to
Grasp or throw, one! Let alone a few.' A solicitless
Lawyer, it just won't do, but hes up in the chamber
Regular enough.' A lion at the despatch box where
It (really gets tough?) He's presided at banqets
And he even says prayers.' Yet when the Ostiches
Stuck there necks out.' He just didn't care.! I reckon
He's uni-party ( through and through ) could tell
Us in which bunker hunkers Hunka.' No he's not
Quite the man in all estimation.? To see Canada through.)
I love this one beautiful girl
Who has my heart in a swirl
Her brown eyes shine like golden honey
She laughs at things that aren't even funny
Her heart is three times too big for this world
Her smile shines like a perfect pearl
I love this one beautiful girl
But I can't show my love for her
At least not without causing a stir
You say this love I feel isn’t there
That these feelings are empty as air
You say that my love is broken and doomed
And that anger and hatred have me consumed
But I know this love I feel is definitely real
And I’m sorry if my love doesn't fit your appeal
And if I’m truly doomed
Then I’d gladly go down with you
Because this love is realer than your hate
And I know what I am thinking isn't straight
And that is because love is blind
But sadly that isn't in your mind
So I am in love with this girl
Who has my heart caught in a whirl
And no I don’t care that I am a girl too
Because love is blinder than you
We all know how the poem goes,
But too many didn’t care.
Now are neighbors are facing woes,
And leaving home is something they don’t dare.
They came for those who sounded off,
Then with a difference in how they love,
Followed by those with a different god,
And so many more who thought they were above.
Prices went through the roof,
Jobless rates soared,
People’s futures went poof,
And wealth was built for the board.
This is what they voted for,
An excuse to kill the poor.
You hate me for my color.
You hate me for our differences.
You hate me for my successes.
You call me names.
You call me useless.
You call me an outsider.
You marked me as invisible.
You made me your scapegoat.
You expressed your hatred, and
Excluded me from your world,
Allowing you to define
Who was welcome into your group.
Do you feel united?
Are you at peace?
That is, until the next tension rises and
A new scapegoat needs to be found.
Written: November 05, 2025, for contest Sponsored by: Hilo Poet
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He ruled with a rakish grin ... a slack scythe in his sanguine fist—
A pharaoh of spurious gloat ... redolent of lard and treacle,
His laws ratified in rapture ... festooned the sacred with spit.
A seraglio of skeuomorphs ... hailed his wondrous fashion sense—
The riparian fields sank ... in soaked squalor and dysania,
He wore a nimbus of stink ... a stygian sherpa to dire fate.
In his sesquipedalian bragging ... the soul of land grew slack—
Each boast is a blur, each law ... a grieving gasp of suction,
Even the seraphic ibis flinched ... its wings dimmed by his shadow.
With tales of Siamese stars and stew ... he won over the jury—
Though the slack-jawed and gaunt group ... gnawed on serendipity bones,
There was no spark ... just the sizzle of sand in a dying sun.
Now his tomb lies amid a cold dune ... decked with dysenteric myths—
A janiform relic of zeitgeist and treason ... stripped of all zest,
The sovereign ruin ... no ripple, no ravel, no rove of resile.
If the majority of people have concerns about illegal immigration only for the government to call them racist,
And, that same majority of people turned around and openly declared themselves racist,
would the government in turn govern the country according to the populous opinion and fulfil its duty to the people, by running the country in line with the demands of the people, by doing whatever is necessary so as to deport illegal immigrants upon arrival thus easing the concerns of the majority who were forced to embody the racist narrative in order to become legitimised?
If so wouldn’t it make sense for the government to see illegal immigration concerns as just that, unlawful acts of migration, and deal with the problem so that the majority aren’t forced to embrace racism as a core belief?
A Name's Worth
Names etched in stone,
Graffiti'd with pain,
Destroyed, yet not gone,
Echoes remain.
It's hard to keep a name,
When hands erase with spite,
But I won't give up the claim,
My name holds through the fight.
In streets, in halls of fame,
A name's the mark we bear,
Though torn and worn with time,
It's worth the struggle, beyond compare.
I'll hold on to mine,
A symbol of my past,
A beacon for my future's design,
My name, forever to last.
Mr. Phiri Enock Phiri Reigns
I didn’t see my privilege because I was
separate in many ways from those
who did not have it
by fate not white-white
that honeyed light that people like
me enjoy, like caramel on vanilla
as brown-like as is allowed
to maybe someday be even beautiful
people liked my skin, they told me
my eyes
loved my outside. even as a child
I thought, but I had nothing to do with that
See, that’s the truth about skin
we don’t do that to ourselves instead
they make it that their likes are favored
I didn’t see my privilege because I was
blinded to those without
it, I didn’t know
those who suffered from society’s gaze
or remained unseen by the hierarchy
of which my unearned color provided membership
hatred, tribalism, shame, oppression also
unearned
I didn’t see my privilege until I did
some still don’t
and then I tried to understand
when things did not make sense
when anger flared from people
not like me, who did not like me
and what I represent
and I tried to see from behind their gaze
I saw how angry I would be
without the privilège I didn’t see
We were told to be grateful
for roofs that didn’t leak too much,
for bread that tasted like survival,
for borders that didn’t shoot on sight.
We were told peace was a gift
as if it hadn’t been built
on the backs of the voiceless
the hidden
the forgotten
as if silence were something holy.
They love our resilience,
but not our rage.
They quote our pain
and call it progress.
But I am done being their moral lesson.
My peace will not come softly
It will come with truth under its nails
dragging justice into the light,
refusing to apologize
for existing
So yes,
I am grateful
but not how they want me to be.
I’m grateful
that we are not done speaking,
and that our words,
sharp and uninvited,
still reach them
where it hurts to listen.
We were once a long term very close friend,
Until someone else opinion finds way.
Like twilight, my sun and your moon did blend...
Then, it seems far away to meet you gay.
The prize none ever seek to win,
One eventually took to heart...
Broken hearts see no dreary sin,
To how distance grew us apart...
I could fly your flag without fear in mind
To what my household would think of my head,
But when each gets to hold on to her kind...
Then, each drop of our bleeding sweat turns red.
For days I did forget my dreams,
And have been praying; peace be still;
All our water flows BLOODY STREAMS...
But can't watch others die at will.
Those of reckon to put a stop at ease,
Are enjoying the fearless game for fun...
And when tears ain't enough to bring down tease,
We resolve to which way the game be won.
Armies are weary, lying dead,
But no one to treat them off hell.
Then, I lay head in mournful tread,
That the world; one day, shall be well.
Westbury where skyscrapers scratch clouds,
And backstreet murmur under glowing hum,
The metro slumbers,but terror thunderous crowds.
Laaities hone okapis where mumbled thugs come,
Each gangway a rabbit warren of cries,
And moms grab the dark,awaiting some.
In kangaroo courts blood thirsty 28s and 27s rise,
A revolver roars,the night asks but none says a prayer
While guiltlessness is sold in whispered lies.
Yet in this war,the lane hides myths rare,
Of youngsters who dodge the deep state,running fast,
Their footprints rebound,shivering through the air.
Westbury your skyscrapers check out the die cast,
Each brick a testifier,every lantern a guide,
The twilight is long,but hope remains at last.
The matriarchs of sections keep life supplied,
Their pleading a vein hope under mortar veins,
Where cowards hide,the soul of Westbury won't die
A throne of bones and a crown toppled,
Bodies trampled around the Holy grail of blood.
A minister with a broken spine,
A queen with a sewn mouth,
And a lone king at the peak,
While his subjects lay on the chess board.
What has happened
to America?
The once leader
of the free world
the bastion of
freedom and democracy?
Allen Ginsberg predicted
it 60 years ago
I guess it
was inevitable- - - - -
All empires
have their demise
It is a
modern day tragedy
How could we
have sunk so fast?
Things have changed
so much within
the past year
It is a disgrace
what has transpired
Sunday afternoon, small shuttle bus making its rounds, there we sit in our seat headed for como zoo, a lone traveler boarded the bus with his cart in tow, man’s belongings all wrapped up tight.
The man an older gentleman I’m sure with a story to tell, takes his seat tired from traveling alone, gets told their cracking down on people bringing carts on the bus, my heart sank as he wasn’t doing any harm..
The lone traveler nobody with him, what’s the harm? Here we are going to the zoo, mother daughter time, fun times are ahead, but this lone traveler sadness shown on his worn face..
What happened to us all being children of GOD? Aren’t we suppose to love one another.. oh how we’ve gone backwards in this society, judging someone because of the way he Carrie’s his belongings, for my brother is on the brink of homelessness..
We got up to exit off the bus, a quick prayer I said in my heart, his name I never asked, Lord wherever he is, please take care of him, the lone traveler, Christ go before you, tonight your way, oh how I wish I could bought you some food, Jesus will full your soul up with HIS food of faith mercy, May Gods blessings keep you safe my friend..
Specific Types of Discrimination Poems
Definition | What is Discrimination in Poetry?
Poems Related to Discrimination
intolerance, inequity, favoritism, bigotry, prejudice, injustice, unfairness, hatred, wrong, partiality, bias, taste, subtlety, sense, differentiation, decision, acumen, keenness, clearness, perception, understanding, refinement, penetration, preference, separation, difference, judgment, perspicacity, discernment, sagacity, acuteness, shrewdness, distinction, astuteness, percipience, astucity,