society imposes its strict rules
and one of these rules is labeling. for conformity
we are so indoctrinated and regimented
that we rarely judge with our own feelings
we involuntarily put labels: on food, on books, on minds, on feelings
and if classifications had not been invented (Linnaeus and Darwin gave us a helping hand)
we would be swimming in an ocean of shapes and colors
differing from one culture to another
but what the world still ignores and/or hides
is the greatness and uniqueness of love in all its forms
love goes beyond patterns. it is uncontrollable and cannot be classified
love your neighbor! love yourself.
love love so that you can forgive anything, without bias
and above all... love children because they will carry the torch of love further
for quiet society
(the one who told me
to be
a good woman…)
I worked too hard
for too little.
I got too little
for too much.
I broke my brain
trying to understand
life
and its abyss.
I'll set my submarine
of meaning
out at dawn.
I’m alive today
I’m grateful
for being
and not
labeling
me
Written By: D. Collins 1/3/26
Will we now go after those we do not like?
By labeling them under a "Terrorist" guise.
Will China use something similar to take Taiwan?
And Zelenski go down as a Russian pawn?
Iran has been given the "Locked and Loaded" threat.
Will their current leadership soon be next?
Will the U.S. be "Greeted With Open Arms"?
Or, put Americans in the way of harm?
Will Latin America regress to "Colonial Rule"?
And regime change becomes normal and cool?
The global temperature is about to get boiling hot.
By us opening the lid of Pandora's Box.
Will Peng sit by and allow us to dictate the new regime?
Or call it a direct threat to their national security?
This is nowhere near over. It has only just begun.
And we won't be the only country who is dropping bombs.
The gates of Hell are sworn to bore
Ghiberti’s doors that guard their shore.
For who sets fate if truth is tore?
With paths that shine and gleam,
Leaves binds of souls unseen;
From grace I watched her gently fall,
A treacherous path that roots the wall.
Where pride arose where love was small,
My humility stayed,
A hostage left to fade.
Good intentions poured as stone,
This walkway hardened, now my own.
Paradise by man we've known,
Life doubts the gilded lies,
While truth within it blinds.
An angel came with wings of wind,
A blessing soaked in pains unhinged.
Attention traced through sins, we grinned.
I listened, voice restrained,
Still trembled when set aflame.
Foolishly, I tried to start,
Belief held firm within my heart.
Deceived by pretense from our start,
God selects a tool,
To reward a fool.
The truth we chase remains unseen,
Through gates of Hell with skies serene.
Our hearts endure the in-between.
What a rhythm to find if these gates still remember me.
---
(Apologies, I could not find an option for cinqopet or iambic tetrameter, so labeling as rhyme)
Appearance
is a label~
nothing is a label
appearing
as a label and
what is labeled~
and as this story
hung up on
labeling~~
liquid moonlight~~
Chivalry is a relic of the past.
The era of fair ladies and noble chivalry appears long gone. Men board buses and trains, and in cramped passageways, they rudely instruct women—especially on the freeway—to move aside and stop delaying traffic.
Yet, the fair ladies of today are no longer timid; they refuse to be wallflowers and often display inflated egos. In response to this assertiveness, men resort to labeling them as whores, es, and witches.
Women, let us not bow our heads or apologize. Chivalry has faded away because men have become broken giants, struggling with their own shortcomings. Weak by nature in their arrogant behavior, they seem trapped in an endless cycle. The question lingers: when will it come to an end? Who do they think they are, mere dust from falling stars?
Is the tangerine tranquility
of divine signature—
a chlorophyll sanctum
for kindled minds,
where identity softens
into its sovereign form.
Uniqueness glistens
like diamonds in agate woods,
flowing like a brook
through silenced seastorms,
casting resilient ripples
of peace in chaos.
Kaleidoscopic hues
lather liberation
in lilac breath,
woven through rose-glazed silk,
layering thy self
beyond binary divides.
Weaving a raspberry mirage,
condensing orbits once defined,
gravity kneels to lucid silhouettes —
where polarization, veiled in vines,
drifts through phantoms of shadowed memes,
labeling itself among quiet captives.
Appearance deceives—
a haunted massacre,
gnawing at edges
of borrowed illusions,
trapped in the coffin
of jinxed confessions.
Still, I yearn for that foetal light—
a harlequin armour
on mannequin soul,
held by the thinnest threads
of clairvoyant defiance,
tethered to becoming.
Dusk drapes the horizon
in crimson hush,
penning butter-paper dreams
into the murmuring breeze,
where buried silence exhales
fractured fragments of valour.
tolfd me.. you support me but
I don't suport you
An enemt within is someone
who makes misery in
everything you do.
youqualify but aint gonna
get it
pejorative labeling
all to undermined and position
I can treat you like this
talk to you like that
your underminded
who you think did that
Racists today are those who label others racists.
It’s no different than labeling someone a witch
long ago
in the hope of directing the hysteria of the crowd
their way.
People who are insecure
for whatever reason
need to bring others down
to justify being down themselves.
Is it racist to acknowledge racial differences?
Of course not,
just as it isn’t speciest to acknowledge differences in species.
People who acknowledge these differences are called
biologists.
People who acknowledge racial differences in humans
are called talent scouts (doctors and detectives)
as their racial profiling
gets them looking in the right places
for the best athletes, artists, scientists, engineers (diseased and criminal).
The world is, if nothing else,
a place of specialization and differentiation
each region, each people
evolving its own
strengths and weaknesses.
And if this reality offends you
you’re likely one of those accusing others
of being racists.
(10/4/23)
I had fallen into the stereotype trap of labeling witches.
Not realizing the Grimm Brothers were way off their britches.
Witches Creed has always been “to no living thing do harm”.
They mean no harm to animals or plants, it is part of their charm.
How did I figure it out? It is not because I am bright in any way.
But one out of these “no harmers” fell out the sky in front of me one day.
She was beautiful, dressed in pink, of all of the colors, which surprised me.
“So all witches don’t wear black?” I said, rather stupidly.
She smiled at my lack of knowledge, and introduced me to her familiar, ****.
Her spell book was actually full of homemade remedies and cures for stuff.
I was intrigued, surprised, amazed, and ready to become this witch’s friend.
She showed me how to ride on her broom too, it had a slight ordinary bend.
When you're forced to live on the street;
you feel depressed, hungry, and beat,
begging for coins and scraps to eat:
while you're obliged to smile.
People scoff, tossing you small change,
labeling you as weird or strange,
treating you like you had the mange:
till each day's a trial.
You beg strangers for a handout;
seeking souls that won't scream and shout;
imploring them to help you out;
and go that extra mile.
An angel sometimes smiles at you
and offers up a coin or two,
recognizing all you've been through:
love shows, once in a while.
Mothers of the world, I plead with you,
For each child you nurture, a life anew.
Be they good or bad, in your arms they grew,
Amidst a harsh world, let anger subdue.
Fathers standing tall, can you comprehend?
The struggles they face, the wounds they must mend.
Frowns breed chaos, let compassion ascend,
Boys forced into men, a cycle we must transcend.
And who should carry the weight of this plight?
The child who cries out, seeking solace in the night?
The mother balancing, with all her might,
The father, a pillar, when darkness takes flight?
Or is it society, the one to blame,
Muting our cries, labeling them as tame,
But who's there for you, in sorrow and flame,
A listening mother, with love as her name.
A father toiling, his devotion unyielding,
While you weep, he senses the pain you're concealing,
Society looms, its blows ever revealing,
Can we recreate a world where compassion is healing?
Let us rise together, mothers and fathers as one,
In a symphony of love, our battles undone,
Where society listens, its heart truly won,
And the silent cries find solace in the sun.
Poised on a farm in Carolina
Not labeling yields “made in China”
There lived a cow and goat
With milk they couldn’t promote
Because their best milk caused angina
Funny, Bawdy or Humorous Limerick Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Tania Kitchin
May 14, 2023
By labeling as dog or swine,
I thus usurp decrees divine.
By casting pearls, I abdicate
A chance to share that God is great.
The flavor of the pulp was moot
In Mrs. Doubtfire’s drive-by fruit.
The gospel is a precious thing,
Not deadly stones launched with a sling.
When my salvation’s cause to gloat,
The chance I see my beam’s remote.
For ere God got a hold of me,
I fear I was far worse than thee.
So I will pick my words with care,
And come along beside you there.
I’ll not begrudge your heart’s incline,
Nor hurl my pearl, nor think you swine,
And then perhaps we’ll both agree:
Our Judge alone can set us free.
----------
Today's sermon was on Matthew 7:1-6, of all things :-)
You think this is quaint, a case of the blues
A handkerchief for a dainty cheek
But I want to howl, I want to shriek
I want to tear the world in two
As you safely stand
In your well-dressed land
Handing out ornate soliloquies
Like pennies
yet neglecting to understand
The poverty of agony
While my dark demeanor
is dismissed
I will burn buildings
If you insist
On painting glitter
over rage
On labeling my pain
a phase
An inconvenient rite, a blight
On your ladylike
well-mannered path
My wrists bleeding
As you correct my math
My words are not petty, not obscene
I am not a robot, not a machine
To defuse, deprogram or debug
Or merely lock away and shrug
In your placid belief
that compliance is peace
What is prison for
If not release?
When I am tumbling through
Unstable skies
And need a roof
To calm my eyes
Bring me more than
A structured reply
Just sit with me
And ask me why
6/24/22
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