Failure was taboo, in a world full of expectations
Success was a burden we were forced to carry,
And burnout was a truth mistaken for laziness
Perfection was a cursed pushed on to black children,
And yet when we exceed it still isn’t enough,
Rest was a heaven we were promised after death,
And life was a test of struggle to get there
White kids are allowed to be average,
And are rewarded with excellence
But us being called average was a privilege we never got
Instead we would be criticised for breathing the wrong way,
And if we complained, we were called a problem
The system was built to break us,
Education is just a trap to bait our reactions,
Excluding us from the conversation,
But complaining about our ‘silence’,
This a silent strategy of educational violence
They erase our history, then they erase our voice,
A system favoured by bias,
Means in the end we will never get a choice -
To have our say,
Or to make space for our excellence,
School was never about inclusion -
But to send a message to all black children
We cannot blame nature for melancholy of the autumn
Leaves falling down the ground
Decay to enrich the soil for feeds and the fertility of the forest
It's us isolated to our world of the human ignorance
Excluding needs of the world that food feeds us with love of the flavors and colors
And fantasy
Knitting is for grandmas
They knit colorful fluffy scarfs for us that say I love you
We wrap them around our necks and taking a pound dog for a day out heading to autumn forest
We smell wetness and comprehend processes of the nature
She teaches us this I need
I require
Dog strolling ahead and behind
Occasionally approaches us when we kneel near a interesting plant and touches our cheek with his wet nose
He makes a circle around us and signifies this is defended and safe
After a walk we return home and drinking hot beverage and eating kibble
We love when it rains this kind
Be sparse like the saltbush plains
of the outback, short on adjectives,
mostly verb and noun. Let the sun
scorch shadows into the sand,
hollow out some shade where a little
life can hide from the heat.
Celebrate the light, its clear passage
through the air, hard as the sharpened
edge of a steel blade. See how it cracks
the land, opens wounds where
the inland snake hides and brews
its venom in perfect silence.
At night feel a cold descend
from a sky emblazoned with stars
set in the icy distances of space.
Endure a solitude that drains the soul
as it leaks out towards horizons
of absolute nothingness,
here,
come face to face with yourself.
Note.
The Australian outback is largely
a dry and unpopulated area covering
around 70% of the total land mass
of the country.
By comparison, this arid region
equates to a little over 50%
of the area of the United States,
( excluding Alaska ).
Florida prisoners should have their institutional work count toward Social Security benefits.
This policy would recognize their labor's value and provide a safety net upon release, aiding reintegration into society.
Most inmates engage in various forms of work, contributing to prison operations and gaining skills.
Excluding them from Social Security undermines their economic stability and increases the risk of recidivism.
Additionally, recognizing their work ensures fairness and aligns with broader labor rights.
Ultimately, counting institutional work toward Social Security would foster rehabilitation, reduce reoffending, and affirm the dignity of incarcerated individuals.
Writing is a gamble
we put in our words,
pull the slot
and read back our
cherries and lemons --
the object is to publish
our addiction
to connect with a reader
our casinos, the clan-forums
of acceptance and rejection
The poet
(excluding the jingle writer) --
least paid-out of all
literary devotionals --
priest and parishioner of countrysides
and hearts, secretly, vainly wonders
if his life’s refrain
but another of man’s many dear epitaphs
summaries in stone
unweeded
and forgotten --
Then when it's time to go to sleep
Lay your head upon my chest
And listen to my breathing, deep
And strong, excluding all the rest
It's only you my heart beats for
My bluebird, you're who I adore
I love you to the nth degree
And hope that soon you'll be with me
The sun rose in the sky.
Day temperature was rising.
All noise stopped.
The wind started to stop.
The intensity of the sun spread around.
The streets were empty.
The leaves of some trees were shaking.
Excluding warm air from the south .
The sun was burning in his heart.
Body almost burnt The river pond was drying up.
The day was hot All the animals returned home.
Morning passed and noon came.
Politics
the wedge
that splits
our kinship
Trapping
what we feel
inside
our thoughts
Mutually
excluding
what fate
has destined
Zero sum
prison
allegiance
—bought
(The New Room: September, 2023)
Where can we find the calmness of our minds and souls
Our minds are always running wild
Images of dreams overlap and overlap
Until they are messy and entangled
Dream may or may not come true
If it comes true, it'll become a reality
It yields satisfaction
Followed by the calmness of the mind and soul
If it doesn't come true, it'll become an illusion
It yields disappointment
Followed by the restlessness of the mind and soul
Unknown and uncertainity
Fate and destiny, fear and worry
Greed and dissatisfaction
Guilt and inferiority
All will erode the calmness of our minds and souls
Maybe we will find calmness in love and confidence
True and justice
And of course not excluding a religion
As a chance to achieve
The calmness of our minds and souls
We can adopt a religion
And pray to the almighty god
Who is always a good listener
And a good comforter
Once upon a time, a story I heard:
They said that each soul, before it is incarnated into the material world,
It is asked to choose the conditions under which it would like to live.
In that way,
The heavens, by offering the soul Free Will, would not be responsible for
The predicaments the soul, inevitably, will face.
It is said that,
One of the most difficult decisions a soul has to make is...
When it is called upon to choose between wisdom and riches.
Now,
If the soul chooses riches over wisdom, the riches, transitory, would be,
Lasting only as long as one remains in the material world.
If, however, wisdom the soul chooses over riches, wisdom will be perpetual,
Lasting not only as long as one exists on earth, but also when it
Returns to heaven.
For that reason, the story tells us,
God sends an angel to each soul to advise it on what to choose.
Unfortunately, many souls are blinded by wealth, so wealth's path they follow,
Excluding themselves, unfortunately, from heaven's treasures!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
01 March 2023
...anywhere and about, an apology alters an argument.
Before--bickering breaths boxed bigotry besides bettering bases.
Closure cutoffs, constants considerable circulation, contradicting confusing controversies.
Detrimental debates deliver disturbing discernment, distinguishing divisions' defense.
Every episode extracted evidence, excluding even elements.
Familiar facts fathomed fantastic fiction, fractured factions--following...
(the last line returns to the first line and ends)
Time is subject to all
senses –
and not the converse. The
greater one's awareness, the
notion of Time diminishes
Time is what
we do not know;
what we do not
see; what we are not
consciously privy to –
it is the distance
between body and spirit,
the space between man and
his God –
Time is timeless infinity
we, alone, limit
our moments together
separated from Divine love
by the use of dots and dashes
the language of literature
excluding the immortal text
of a Free Verse Soul
Love is man's self limited
story
yet to become his limitless
reality
Today is one of the days I feel like smoke.
Choking myself.... bottling every feeling,
not allowing myself to breathe.
Covering everything with white ashes,
turning things monotonous...black and white.
I am not kerosene yet.
I am not kerosene yet...it never corrodes,
it forms impenetrable layers…
not allowing a chance for reversal.
Not letting down a breathe,
excluding from every other thing...
I am not kerosene. Yet.
I am not even wrapped in a warm blanket.
I am cold.
I'm cold.
Sitting in smoking temperatures, I am cold.
Frozen. Numb. Insensitive.
Not wrapped in a warm blanket, I sit cold.
I left you alone,
You ran from us.
It left me in dire straits,
I had to adjust.
I don't get how you,
Have a change of heart.
No resolution,
You tore us apart.
I can see the
Hate in your eyes.
WOW, that cut
Me down to size.
I cannot figure why, you
wanted to hurt me like this.
I keep playing it over,
In the darkness of my abyss.
Your M.O, you move from
One to the other.
My heart bleeds,
It’s a gusher.
I used to believe you did
Not do this with intention.
You took aim, my feelings
You paid no attention.
You knew exactly what
You were doing.
Me and my life,
You were excluding.
That was nasty, dirty,
Trick you played.
Who knows how long?
You kept up that charade.
You milked me for
All I had.
In your clever, I'm
Going to be gay fad.
You never cared,
Our love, you condemned.
You rode it out,
until the end.
Turbo1904
Sorely alive I sing a song in my senior years
I arise risen mind excluding my fears
Second song melodies of miraculous dawn moon
The Son has risen and yet he shall return soon
Glorious songs of praise
Joyously I speak in rejoicing waves
My arms and hands upward as I praise
And the overture is in the repeated chorus
I am a choir alone so open and voices
Glorious songs of praise
O' song of praise so well-behaved
Vibrant and listening flowing within the distance winds
Channel call angels fall at the chance listening
Found an intertwined within the quietness a silent slave
Glorious songs of praise
Joyously I speak with rejoicing waves
My arms and hands upward in gratifying praise
And the feeling in my spirit my soul sings with joys
Angels surround me in this holy of holies choir
Glory unto the Most High, Hallelujah
We shall always sing glorious songs of praise
1/4/22
Written by James Edward Lee Sr © 2022
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