Long Privilege Poems
Long Privilege Poems. Below are the most popular long Privilege by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Privilege poems by poem length and keyword.
Four walls
Sat destitute
within four walls
of her citadel,
Embellished in gold
and pricey diamonds,
Adorable silky cher
in vast ambit,
Waiting and waiting,
days after days
till the war will end,
For her prince to return
victorious, in jubilance.
Longing soft heart,
Abandoned in walls
of riches, dignity
kindness and valiance,
With no privilege
of freedom,
A tearful soul
eating her heart.
Not a mere breath,
She is an esprit
with subtle thrust,
She is an essence
beyond four walls,
That else embalm
and macadamize.
Written Feb 24th, 2016
For contest by Chase
Now entered for "Any poem #38" poetry contest by PD A
I never thought I would do so well with an older man
He understands me better than any young man can
He's done with lies and toying with a woman's mind
He's looking for love from a lady of a certain kind
Its a privilege to know that I'm someone he likes
That im someone with whom he wants to spend his life
He fondles my thoughts and heart because he's very expressive
When he shares his words of experience it's very impressive
He listens to my words with his heart and not with his ears
He's not afraid to open up and tell me what he fears
He takes nothing for granted and he appreciates me
Helping me grow into the woman that I would like to be
He treats me like a gem and gives me protection
Hes very gentle with me and shows me affection
He does these things in a way that I never experienced before
When I experienced him romantically he touched me to the core
He has a way with me that takes my breath away
He sends my pulses running in every single way
He's has captured my heart because he's different from the rest
He's much older, true, but his love is the best
If I had it my way I would choose him all over again
I'm amazed I'm so compatible with this older man.
She was an enigma -
Complex and beautiful in her chaos
A painful hunger consumed her being
Not for food, but for an untouchable perfection
Disappearing was routine,
Yet it didn't stop her from wanting to be seen
She was a victim of continuity -
Of privilege, ego and power
Of a world still ignorant to her differences
To a world who still criminalised black kids
She lived a life her parents lived
Continuity was the burden she carried
Not of her bloodlines lack,
But of a world who hated black
Picked apart, she was dissected
Visible but unprotected
Her life was a series of persistent questions
Not to hear her side, but to reject it
To use her trauma against her
To gouge a reaction,
To stereotype, to label, to call her 'dramatic'
Her world revolved around survival
Of slipping through systems trying to be quiet
Not from shyness
But to make it out alive to get justice
To hold the world accountable -
For crimes against her peoples blackness
She didn't want to be a statistic -
Just a girl who lived among racists,
But, who escaped to become an activist
Whose legacy was a safer place for future generations of black kids
So, yes she was an enigma
But her impossibility carved her a path into a new era
An army that had beat the world,
against them scared farmers were hurled,
they shocked the world with guts and brawn,
Washington pressed the freedom on.
And when they again came around
burned the capital to the ground,
then Jackson the redcoats set upon
and freedom kept pressing on.
Then we divided, blue and gray,
to fight over if men were slaves,
six hundred thousand, dead and gone,
through blood the freedom still pressed on.
When empires burned foreign lands,
and things were getting out-of-hand,
over there we fought tyrants strong,
helped to keep freedom pressing on.
When fascists took the tyrant’s place,
murdered millions for the master race,
on two fronts we fought hard and long,
the freedom, it kept pressing on.
Then bigots here obsessed with skin
found themselves challenged from within,
white hoods could not stop marching throngs,
5he freedom just kept pressing on.
Communists butchered and enslaved,
while inside they rotted away,
then Soviets sang their swan song,
the truth of freedom pressing on.
Now we’ve fools who whine of ‘privilege,’
dumb kids who think they’re socialists,
time’s harsh glance will prove them wrong,
we’ll keep the freedom pressing on.
Yesterday I was surprised, I was amazed…I was elated
to have the privilege of watching a masterpiece of art being created.
I sat next to the artist…and again I was in awe
as he put his pencil to his paper…and he began to draw.
And I began to smile…then I began to stare
for never have I seen a pencil move so fast..
with so much grace…
and so much flair.
He told me what he was drawing…was it a fire engine…or a bird
but the artist is just learning my language…and I didn’t understand a word.
His inspiration ended quickly…as inspirations sometimes do…
His masterpiece completed…
in a minute…
maybe two.
And again I was surprised and amazed at his generosity
for without a thought about it…he gave his masterpiece to me.
As he ran out of the room…this thought occurred to me…
When he does become a famous artist I can say…
I knew him when we was three.
Taliban march on,
Kabul falls into the hands of barbarians
As
Chaos and death their steps follow.
-
Mothers mourn their children
Bereaved wives grieve the death of their husbands
Panic is instilled in every heart and mind of
Each freedom-loving Afghan.
-
Desperation and fear
Slowly but persistently establish their depressive dominion
Dragging society into the abyss of ignorance
By annihilating human rights and freedom of expression, and
At the same time
Depriving women, among other things, the privilege of education
For
The new despots wish to weave the web of their regime in
Total darkness so as to fit the color of their
Unenlightened souls.
© Demetrios Trifiatis
20 August 2021
*When the Taliban ruled Afghanistan from 1996 to 2001, the government banned music and barred women from attending school or leaving their homes without a male escort. In 2001, the U.S.
**According to a United Nations report, the Taliban were responsible for nearly 40 percent of civilian casualties in the first six months of this year, more than any other party to the conflict in Afghanistan.
Oh mother mine, you're a friend to the end.
Seen you be a borrower a lender and a fixer of broken men.
You see your sons you have grown, we are true of heart,
You see you've taught us so well to shine bright and find our way in the dark.
I've seen the privilege in your face change, as we’ve grown in time
I wish i could map out and relive those photo’s, retrace all those laughter lines.
I wish i could have half the strength your mind and body have shown.
You see all that I've seen is you love us tooth and bone.
You see all that I've seen is you love us tooth and bone
Oh mother of mine who’s love loves the most
Seen you be a worker, a warrior,a beacon and our lives signpost.
Now the men you have raised are but yours and will never depart
You see you've shown us so well how to live and to love from the heart.
Racism is a systematic prejudice
that includes issues of gender and class
and religion
and disability.
Empathy is not enough we need meaningful
dialogue and not just storytelling.
We must end inherited white privilege access
to education, housing, employment, medical care !
Why cannot society and laws
right the paradigm and inequality ?
Will the Critical Race Theory
ever bring enlightenment ?
_______________________
June 22, 2021
Poetry/Verse/Critical Race to End Prejudice
Copyright Protected, ID 06-1366-089-22
All Rights Reserved, 2021, Constance La France
Written for the Standard contest, Critical Race Theory
sponsor, Anthony Biaanco, Judged 07/21/2021
Well first of you have to be black
So if your not sorry about that
I guess you're just gonna have to be believed
I know for once your not included
How does it feel not to be the centre of attention
I guess it must be hard having white privilege
Oh and also being favoured
And no I'm not joking
Anyways back to the point
Black girls listen up
So what you are gonna need to is just open your mouth
Cause they don't like that
They'll call you violent
Kicker is they hate when your also silent
And use that as an excuse to discredit us
To dismiss us
They do this intentionally
So people won't believe us
I know
How scandalous
You're also gonna have to just exist
Yeah this one's gonna be the easiest
To accomplish
Us living apparently really hurts them
So they are probably gonna do everything
To make sure our voices are ignored by everyone
Because who is society going to believe
I'll give you a hint
The ones who have privilege
Sucks don't it
Well that's how you know you're doing something right
Cause remember we don't want to be believed
I mean it really is just that easy
Because when you're black
You're automatically not believed
Black without a mask
What would it look like to be black without a mask?
Would it look like freedom?
Or would they laugh?
At our attempt to be ourselves
To feel like we can tell the world
That we are fighting back
That we are tired of being attacked
That we are human and you should respect that
Maybe it would feel like a weight removed
Like entering a sunlit room
Like when flowers finally bloom
Like when the sky shows you the moon
And you know it's time to for bed
And you can rest your head
After a long day That had you stressed
What would it feel to burn that mask ?
Would it feel cathartic
Being black and being free from the curse of having to act robotic
In a world that wants us to shrink
And overthink our emotions
Maybe it would feel like letting go of a deep breath
Or waking up from a nap refreshed
If only racism didn't exist
We wouldn't have to dream of this
We'd have the privilege
Of freeing our emotions