Long Discriminated Poems
Long Discriminated Poems. Below are the most popular long Discriminated by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Discriminated poems by poem length and keyword.
After the big bang in space you hang and hang
Getting ready and steady before our history began
Beating a couple of a billion stars to become the Sun
Molding the ashes of earth for the descent of Man
What was your name before we gave you our own?
What was it like the morning of that first dawn?
Did you see our ancestors crawl out of the sea?
Did they acknowledge you, even as they roamed free?
While other planets were too cold or too hot
You made sure earth was a well-ventilated cot
You gave light and warmth just the right dose
A little less or more and humanity would never have arose
Life in abundance, from microbes to the great dinosaurs
Many creatures of the like, when the world had no doors
Then you got rid of the dinosaurs, to save us from harm
That was the plan, so that our turn could at last come
You know which day; the first human stepped on the ground
A great evolution hybrid, compound of your compound
Did he thank you for the water he drank and the air he breathed?
Or for that flower he picked for the first woman he kissed
And when humans became the most dominant species
You guided them to cross the most dangerous of seas
They conquered the world; from ice age to industrial age
But for you it was just another turn of a simple page
They divided the world into nations and races
You watched as they discriminated those of darker faces
They forgot that you polished every creature with a unique shade
And only Mother Nature can answer for what she made
Where were they when you reduced earth’s temperature?
Who was present when you designed life’s nomenclature?
When you painted the sky blue without using a brush
Doing everything to perfection without any rush
Yet we walk around proud, as if there is no extinction
Self appointed custodians, with portfolios of distinction
Finding our refuge inside high walls and banking halls
Staking our immortality by the words of ancient scrolls
We have the theory of it all but it’s not enough
For we have not traveled to the last galaxy above
To answer the mysteries surrounding your birth
To understand why you chose to support life on earth
What keeps you going, what’s beneath your core?
What else do you have for us in store?
Is there an afterlife after we die? Oh great life supporter !
Does our conscious live on in a land of endless laughter?
in order to get back to Eden to live on top of the world
there are a few things from God which need to be heard
here in America in the democratic land of milk and honey
African-Americans are disproportionate when it comes to power and money
our healthcare is poorer, our finances worse, few of us in seats of power
at the bottom of most demographic indicators and our circumstances diminish by the hour
the most unemployed, the most discriminated, the first to be laid-off or dismissed
more of us in jail, a lot of us illiterate, there are too many problems for me to list
fewer marketable skills, fewest high school diplomas and don't mention college degrees
African-American men in America need to take off their blinders and see
to those who stand behind stained-glass windows and look down on those who have less
you need to take your brothers back to Eden and put an end to all this mess
you might not comprehend their reality but you should attempt to understand
that as true servants of God you should help your fellow man
if you consider yourself to be a true disciple of Christ
what have you done to enrich someone else's life?
who did you clothe? who did you feed?
who did you minister to in their time of need?
who did you mentor to on how to be a man?
who did you talk to or stretch out your hand?
there's a lot of work that needs to be done to get our brothers inspired
we need to help them build a relationship with God and do as Jesus aspired
in order to get back to Eden we need to start at the very beginning
with the basic instructions that God is recommending
to fellowship with your fellow man
to develop a trust opposite to slavery's plan
to communicate with positivity
to no longer promote negativity
to pull up your pants and walk like a man
to be productive and not destructive
to be supportive and not abortive
to act like someone's father and not like you're being bothered
to teach our brothers to put down the guns and take up the cross
so they will no longer act like thugs but to think like a boss
no longer will we be divided with jealous envy
now united as brothers under God's authority
getting back to Eden to be on top of the world
to living our lives according to God's Holy word
to get back to Eden and up from the basement of life
living on top of the world as brothers with our savior Jesus Christ
MY FATHER'S GENTLE HANDS
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I remember my father’s hands as a plumber’s hands—fiercely strong, calloused, rough, knuckle-battered, and dirty after a long-day’s work. Those hands shoveled; unclogged drains and toilets; repaired leaks; and installed pipes, commodes, and bathtubs. Those hands provided.
I remember my father’s hands as a fisherman’s hands—perfectly patient, tenacious, self-confident, and unwavering as he held his fishing line and lure stabile, waiting for a fish to take the bait. “Keep your hands steady. Stay focused,” he prompted me when I asked him to teach me how to fish from his flat-bottom boat. Those hands fished longer than they ‘plumbed,’ rarely missing an opportunity to commune with nature, seldom losing a fish. Those hands fed.
I remember my father’s hands as a treasure hunter’s hands—firm, certain, and capable, listening intently to his metal detector’s tones learning to discriminate the sound a good coin makes compared to the choppy, broken sound a junk target makes. Those hands searched, discriminated, and found soulful answers to life’s complex questions and dilemmas.
I remember my father’s hands as gentle healing hands—kind and comforting as he wiped away the tears that sometimes streamed down my face. Without saying a word, those hands loved, consoled, and encouraged—always righting my world.
I remember my father’s hands—full of strength and hope as he took my trembling hands in his. Those hands gave me courage—the courage to reach up in search of everything impossible, leaving me with the unbridled sense that to do anything less was the greatest impossibility of all. Even now whenever I need courage, I can feel his hand around mine helping me to feel invincible once again.
In my mind’s eye, I often see my father’s hands—every line and every wrinkle. They told a story about the kind of man he was. I’ll remember my father’s hands for the remainder of my life. I’m grateful for him, for his enduring spirit and presence, which continues to grace my life despite his passing some years ago.
Dad's hands tell a tale
they did countless loving things
they touched and guided
they shaped and molded
they encouraged me to reach
they held the stars in place
they held rising sun
they sought deep understanding
they chased lonely moon
as wars are waged in our homelands we sit out here gettin education for our
own future,
thinkin of ourselves, we forget about the whole purpose of our mission to
America,
we capture the American culture and forget our own,
we show gang signs and skip school instead of learning what we came to learn,
we act as if this was our own country, when we know we’ve only been here for
few years,
we act as if we know everything and don’t need school, when school was the
whole reason for being here,
we start fights at school, when part of the reason we were here was to get out of
violence,
we get on welfare and cheat the system instead of gettin a job,
we leave home telling parents we’re going to be doctors and get to school acting
gangsters,
we talk about making differences in other’s lives when we’re the ones that need
to change first,
we say we are discriminated against, knowing that it’s our own people
discriminating against us,
we watch our people suffer in our homeland on television and shed a little bit of
tears to make ourselves feel better and talk about different subject as soon as
it’s over,
we are cared for, more than we care about ourselves and each other,
when something occurs in a country where we benefit from, we focus on that
country till everything is situated,
but if it occurs in our homeland where no benefit comes from, we turn our cheeks
and ignore it as if it never happened,
we are convinced to believe what we see on television,
we talk about freedom, opportunity, and justice but really when the number one
thing that matters the most is money,
money is not only used but also worshiped due to the fact that you can buy out
laws,
how could there be an equal opportunity when only the rich get richer off the poor
and the poor are left to survive on what they can and then thrown in jail for trying
to stay alive,
we watch the news to only see the negativity of our surroundings,
we talk about the future of our next generations but disrespect them about their
knowledge,
we call our country “United States of America,” while we terrorize one another,
where is the unity in that?
how can we unite when we think so far apart?
how can we make a difference without changing oneself?
what makes us who were are, also makes us an enemy,
who do you think is “we” when I say we
Form:
The World Of Illusion
Just Like a bird in a guilded cage we are all
supposed to be free ? But are we really
free ? The answer is No !, in Australia we
are compelled to vote, we are fined if
we don't vote, as our governments make
laws that control our lifestyle, when life
was created by God he deemed all of us
were born equal, that being the case why
do we need a leader to govern as we are
all as good as each other, laws create
problems in society, and corrupts our
lifestyles. When society, tells us what we are
permitted to do and even what we say and
wear, is that freedom ?, the answer is No,
we live in a society were we are forced to
accept rules on our personal appearance,
it was alright for women to wear skirts and
men to wear long pants, and boys to wear
short pants all in the name of tradition
and this is dictating our lives, if we fail to
comply we are discriminated by society and
looked upon as anti socialists which in some
extremes can lead to civil unrest and world wars,
we are all prisoners of tradition and government
laws, we do things to please everyone except
ourselves and that is selfishness that needs to
change as people need to wear and look as they
wish. here are some examples these days women
can wear pants and men even wear skirts, they
are called kilts that Irish and Scottish soldiers
would wear into battles. Makeup only woman
wear allowed to wear, yet in very early times
men would wear make up, back in the Egyptian
dynasties. It was also the same in indian tribal
customs only men wore war paint, but it has
all changed. If a man wore lipstick in the street
today he would be laughed at as being gay or
a drag queen, yet circus clowns have done this
in there work amusing children, even actors
use it with no incriminations, so why can't
men and women have a say in what they
wear and how they dress and have nothing
said about it, if we were truly free we could
do all of this, but as long as discrimination
rules society we will always be forced to obey
tradition and follow the rules that suits a select
few and not the majority of the world we live in.
This explains my thesus that we are just like
that bird in a guilded cage, we seek freedom
but can never really be free. This is the order
of our society today.
Liberty, Equality and Fraternity, three precious ideals, blinded by the darkness of xenophobia.
The Republic, democracy and human rights are the pillars of a just society, but in the depths of Marianne, their fragility reminds us that nothing can be taken for granted.
Perhaps it will be necessary to decapitate a few heads again on the Place de la Concorde, so that the age-old splendor of revolutionary France can be reborn from its ashes.
Foreigners are constantly discriminated against and treated like cattle, their dignity trampled underfoot.
Illegal immigrants, without a residence permit, live in promiscuity, seeking refuge in a nation that rejects them.
The homeless proletarians, scattered in the streets of the homeland of human rights, are proof that equality is slow to become a reality for all.
Stigmatize Africans by systematically associating them with delinquency and drug trafficking,
It is to ignore the segregationist policies, applied in disadvantaged suburbs,
It is choosing to look elsewhere, faced with the cruelty of France's criminal shenanigans in Africa.
Racists, racialists and nationalist supremacists propagate toxic ideologies that divide rather than unite, creating deep fissures in a France with a legacy of slavery and colonialism.
Negrophobic xenophobes are chained to hatred and intolerance, they despise the salutary values ??of inclusion and the riches of diversity.
Enlightened pan-Africanist sub-Saharan Africans carry a vision of solidarity and continental unity, which advocates the search for the realization of Africa's potential.
Terrorism, capitalism and globalism form an explosive cocktail that disrupts the balance of the contemporary world.
Patriotic fascists, racialist stereotypes and colonial reflexes are infringements which hinder the evolution towards a community attached to egalitarian principles.
Under the lights of the slave trade, amnesia is a medicine for all those who want to forget the past and the horrors of the dark pages of the lugubrious history of sweet France.
The Code Noir gave rise to the transatlantic slave trade, and the Code of the Indigenous was the foundation on which colonization rested.
I have been searching
I promise i will change
But everyday am still same
I cant stop to be me
My soul it never leave me cold
I have a urge
So now i got this needs
I have been searching
I promise i will change
But everday i keep learning
This experience i pass through
everyday
Is not ordinary
This circumstances surrounding african
is just
too stupid to ignore
So i keep asking
The WHY" never stop coming
after and after another
I have been searching
I promise i will change
But now am still same
I keep searching
So i keep moving
I keep searching for mankind
So it mysteries brought me
to an addiction
I wanted to just hope
But my heart is far from it
So i keep searching
Searching why africa
is what it is now in our 21st
Century
Searching why blacks are so
discriminated world wide
Yet africa feed the world
Oh i promise to change
But this things cant change me
I have been searching
I promise i will change
But how can i change
with this troubles from yesterday's
How can i change to know
how not to love
How can i change when
there is no change in my country
I promise to change but
It Caught me searching
I keep searching for mankind
I keep searching for Africa unity
I keep searching for africans prides
I keep searching so i cant change me
I promise i will change
Yet not until all is equal as one
I have been searching
I promise i will change yet
I feel helpless in this road
of life we all trade on
I feel helpless with the promises
of the men from the hill of political powers
I feel confuse when i see
The good man yet die young
I feel handicaped when the great
fall so soon right in front
of our view
It makes me think when i see all
this poverty all over my country
It marvels me when i hear the amount
of income my country loses
everytime to greedy men
Oh i keep searching
What is the reason for all this calamity
Since i have a soul
Right deep the heart it dwells in me
So it does in everyone
My spirit leads my mind
So this time too long
I just cant be just here
On this quest
I have been searching
When the police came with clubs, dogs, and fire hoses, the non-violent protesters did not blame the American flag. When protesters were beaten, jailed, and some killed, they did not blame the American flag. When many were sent off to fight for the rights of others but not their own, they did not blame the American flag. When in uniform, they were treated as second-class citizens far from home, they did not blame the American flag. When their own country discriminated and demeaned them on foreign soil, they did not blame the American flag.
When on bended knees, believing in country, church, and God, against what seemed to be impossible odds, they fought for justice through the courts and the halls of Congress and won many incredible battles.
From the segregated schools and the cotton fields of the deep south, I saw the non-violent protesters and freedom riders. They took the blows and stood tall; from the dogs, they withstood the mauls and realized that hatred and racism were the cause. Yes, this baby boomer observed it all, but I do not recall that they blamed the American flag.
01132018 PS PH FB
The poet Marshall Mathers
whilst "Cleaning Out My Closet"
blasted with inquiry-
"Have you ever been hated on or discriminated against?
I have...''
Interesting enough
in these crooked times
it is impossible to make a man like you,
or your art,
especially with unbounding determination.
Nevertheless,
It sure is mighty easy to attain their hatred,
through no fault of your own.
When they protest or demonstrate against you...
finally you have arrived!
That's powerful!
Common sense says,
"Never drive in the rear view mirror!"
Though, it sure is helpful to take a quick glance back
periodically
to check out Jealousy,
back there
doubting and shouting and eating your dust!
Take a whiff...
Listen...
AHHHH....
The band begins to play ferociously!
Off-key.
Off-color.
Slander Slogans pasted upon your face.
Furthermore,
Suddenly,
Systematically...
like roaches with lights bright,
they disappear into the night,
back to the slums;
begging for crumbs.
Once you've been Blacklisted;
Swallow.
Digest the miracle.
Pure, glowing gold
the alchemy of their anger,
visibly discernable from the glossy pyrite
appearing with fake praise.
Heed the old adage:
---------------Keep yir' friends close, and enemies closer.
Their futile harm repels from the Teflon donning your heart.
Envy
burns bold, boils,
melts and cools, then cold,
forging the sword.
Adding to your arsenal.
Stumble not
upon bone fragments,
brittle blacklist bandits...
the Catacombs of those
who aimed to defame your name,
staking claim for their
shameless sea of debris
and Rotten Forgottens
which only bolster your begotten flame.
Remain steadfast, undaunted
TROUNCE THOSE TREACHEROUS TROUBLES;
________________________ TO ________________________
MARCH THROUGH THE RIGOROUS RUBBLE!
*Heads High,
Let me see those eloquent eyes!~JsL
~Inspired by written words of Marshall Mathers, Cleaning Out My Closet,
Shady Records~
I am the voice of time —
The whisper of centuries long silenced,
And today, I thunder:
The Earth has turned. The meek now reign.
In the year 2050,
China stands not as a country,
But as the heartbeat of a new era,
The firstborn of the Global South’s resurrection.
Not with swords, but silicon.
Not with chains, but circuits.
Africa —
No longer a continent of carved borders,
But a single soul,
One country, one currency, one command.
Its deserts bloom with data farms,
Its skies sing with satellites.
Nairobi, Lagos, Addis — the new jewels of the world.
The old gods —
IMF, World Bank, UN —
Have crumbled into myths for the museum.
BRICS++ has risen, forged in fire,
A furnace of South-South solidarity,
Wielding economic thunder and military lightning.
The New Alliance of the Rising Earth
— a pact forged in justice —
Holds a strength the world has never known.
A military force not born for conquest,
But to protect balance, defend harmony, and uproot hypocrisy.
Meanwhile...
Europe staggers —
Not united, but scattered in tribal echoes,
Its streets echoing with hunger,
Its parliaments burning with blame.
Third World, now not a label,
But a mirror to their future.
And America —
Once fifty stars in pride —
Now scattered into fractured republics,
Each fighting to remember a name.
They come now, ship after ship,
Seeking shelter, seeking work,
Filing into Global South embassies
With applications marked: Desperate.
And the white man, once crowned in ignorance,
Now knows the taste of his own medicine.
Discriminated, undocumented,
Told: Learn the language. Wait your turn. Prove your worth.
But this is not vengeance.
This is balance.
The earth, long patient, has reset the scale.
Oh reader —
This is not a dream.
This is the roar of a future that remembers.
A reckoning seeded in colonized soil,
Watered with blood,
Now grown into a harvest of reckoning.
The last shall be first,
And the first shall be last.
This is the New Superpower.
And its name is Justice.