Long Racial Poems
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You love animals - so now go and sleep with them,
stop moaning about oil, you're lucky we have some,
get off the racial kick, you're in motherland you dick,
put your airbrush away, better it should just be you.
I protest about people getting at me, let it wash
over you because the most of it is a load of tosh;
I store in my armoury for future use you just see,
so beware one day I don't shake you from your tree.
My wife is gifted with recall - it's frightening really,
because she remembers my misdemeanours clearly;
we say 'yes' to everything don't we to keep the peace,
but sometimes there's agreement, wonders never cease.
So the next time you want action, think more carefully,
you're not going to get 35% more pay realisticcally.
I MUST EMBRACE THE ENTIRETY OF MY EXISTENCE
I must quietly acknowledge my tenacity and strength,
deny the words and actions of narcissistic
controlling forces, and individuals who have tried to muffle,
my thoughts, worship ... and hopes.
I am a twig that bends with the wind
and refuses to be broken.
A seedling that could not be crushed
through adversity … but will sprout.
I will rise, fall and rise again.
I will innovate, invent, create,
paintings and ...poems.
Despite aging, social and racial inequities,
I will muster the courage for difficult pathways,
all the while challenging situations,
not of my own … making.
I will confront the improbable and the impossible,
with gusto and with great expectations.
Offering to Infuse the wisdom of scriptural truth
in the minds of all meek and truth-seeking individuals.
Regardless of race, social, or … economic background.
I will lend my voice to present the clarity
of God’s love, wisdom, justice, power, and
his purposes for us, and his will for our earth.
A restored Paradise, through the reign of his
anointed son, and King … Jesus Christ.
I desire to do this with love and empathy,
as I attempt to gently pierce through the clutter
of unscriptural doctrines.
I know this will require my love of mankind,
my courage, patience, and tenacity. but always, always
the essential force of … God’s Holy Spirit
and his blessings!
May 2, 2022 copyright
All rights reserved
Contest: Premiere Choice Poetry Contest
SponsorBrian Strand
Intends to be the best,
acts like owner of the world,
fights for the USA
loves the history of American music
is entitled to be a roadster
passionate with nature
carry out cucarachas with reservation
vibrates with sports
intrudes on foreign affairs
polemics racial issues
celebrates 4th of july with pride
has fun with regional accents
carves pumpkins like no one
tends to be a bit arrogant
rejoices with fireworks
should assist poorer countries further
praises and appreciates peanut butter
frolic in football badly
plays basketball admirably
knows that everyone wants
to come to America ... !
Ps for the sake of poetry, i must say that
I LOVE AMERICA !
Nature teases man with its creations,
gifts that astound us and make us marvel,
a coconut is perhaps a fruit with a soul,
the exterior that harbours purity inside.
high above the ground out of hand’s reach,
in families they stay and drop one by one,
a fruit so heavy it can crack a skull,
Thank God! for Newton, it was apple
and not a coconut that fell.
Every bit of it serves a purpose!
in natures plan, nothing is left to waste,
the fluffy layers help it sail across oceans,
to create a new life beyond horizons.
The hard shell preserves the fruit inside,
bathed in the sweetest of nourishing juices,
it has eyes to let the germination roots out,
who could have designed such a nutshell?
in human language a coconut is a racial slur,
describes people who pretend to be what
they are not! Philosophers have a different view!
They say a coconut is a divine fruit!
We should strive and be like a coconut,
for when we peel away our fluffy ego
and crack open the shell of our false pride,
the white purity of our soul emerges!
Life’s journey is so much alike!
Where and how we journey and where we reach
depends on the waves and currents of fate,
but lead a life where every bit of you serves
a purpose, so when the final true self
emerges, it is bathed in sweetness of
wisdom that may nourish many other souls!
Written 14th October 2023
Free verse
Coconuts Poetry competition
Robert James Liguori sponsored
ACROSTIC ODE TO SINGAPORE
Urge strikes a feel and flow of obvious appeal,
See a tiny red-dot enroute to places,
Embracing the path of economic will.
Bestow on this land of many dear faces
Use of timely ideas and productive strides,
Yield to our people fond smiles and fine graces.
See this island nation in Asiatic tides,
Immersed with multi-racial community,
Now living the modern age with bustling pride.
Glimpse beyond the struggles of democracy,
Align the prospects of resolute progress:
Pursuit of excellence and competency.
Opting to serve the world via business express,
Reaching outwards and upwards through ample trade,
Exploring better ways and means to progress.
Join our contemporary lifestyle parade:
Open minds that make ordinary things great,
Yes we embark on a quest to keep our grades.
Now and here we gather our wits to greet fate,
Open our hearts to make lifelong learning fit,
Willing to work our way to wealthy estates.
Give all we got to spur progress more discrete,
Employ our best efforts to niche steady bits,
Trust in the truth to live our national grit.
Make what you will of our solemn choice of wit:
Echo our song beyond scenarios that pit.
(Notes: This work is an Ode written in Terza Rima. Each line has eleven syllables throughout for the tercet verses (3-line per verse) and for the final couplet of 2-line verse. I have also added a new part into this Ode: an Acrostic element. This is just an idea to make the composition more interesting and offer another perspective to the reader. This acrostic fit is definitely more cumbersome but well worth the wordplay and effort. Tell me what you think if you have a comment to make. Thanks.)
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Leon Enriquez
06 Mar 2014
Singapore
My mind distills away.
Scraps from the underworld.
Of education, tradition and media ****.
I'm tired of caring.
Sick of hearing, if I could.
Control my ears closed.
Block them from ******** talk.
Chain my eyes off the road.
The road is blind,
It twirls in murky worm fences.
I can't trust it. I don't know it's source.
I need to run from it.
The deep valleys eroded.
Brick red flooring, it's Ibadan.
Wobbling houses like sinking boats.
Like the school, the earth is.
Mixed with fire and water.
Bisexual topics, racial terms.
It hurts people, Education does.
Other opinions.
T-rays reveal ancient scripts.
Kept secret from us.
To lull in the sinking boat.
Like torpid trees.
Staring and observing.
The mystics become religion.
Which in turn, morphology of tradition.
A culture brings unity.
Under the slavery of memories heard.
To bare the burden of language.
A barrier, a paranoid ant.
To consume doubt.
Embrace the stories, devour the myths.
In memory of----
Solely in my room, I can't stomach the sound of my pulse
I sit here alone to forget the taste of air.
Overwhelm by the scene -unbelievable footage
18 seconds long, "I can't breathe."
My judgment "GONE" stressing all night long
I use to fear dark colors, now I fear spinning bright lights
Red, White, and Blue, I spew the NY crew
What's wrong with your blue eyes?
You see him, you want him to die
What a day to trade -- a life for illegal cigarettes
Persecution and judgment day, sweet life - taken away
"I can't breathe", executed in broad daylight!
Bullets left and right
Who's policing the police
What happened to mind our business?
Moneymaker refused to be singled out
A hurting voice tackled by racism
Free to see, pouring his heavy heart,
Oinkers demand the ground, shutting down his testament
8 times too many, "I can't breathe!"
Where did his vitals go?
No one to tap him out, pound the pavement!
What the hell, why are you just standing there???
Stress, anger, madness, the voice of innocence
"I can't breathe." the volume to valium
"Officer, did you not hear the man?"
Are you deaf, have you forgotten how to save a life?
Is it just the NYPD or is it every other badge,
Insinuating crime's a one-color show.
We are all criminals, why the excessive heat?
Shot, tasered, beat down, pepper-sprayed, now on the ground
The mother of all chokeholds, murdered, outnumbered
The echoes remain "I can't breathe!"
- The truth!
Eric Garner robbed of his own natural path and youth
One man down eyed suspiciously
Perplexed minds suffocating him instantly
The mistrusted, the awe, the hate,
So tangible, uniforms using deadly force
One asthmatic in a chokehold
Slamming his head on the floor
Open wounds, worldwide tears
My heart goes to the family and friends left behind
A courageous last breath, for the first and last time
"I can't breathe," now deceased.
You left this world unwilling, waking up a strong community
Strolling in a safer world, where racial discrimination doesn't exist
"I can't breathe," Eric Garner Rest in peace!
By: PD
The bullets did not fly into the wind,
They struck, leaving indelible scars,
Blood on the pavement, pain in impure souls,
The bodies fall, but the eyes remain wide open.
The pains we hide become a torment for the oppressed,
A cry that screams the truth of injustice.
They call it an accident, but the accident is a clean version,
A lie in a suit and tie, served on a platter of indifference.
The walls have become loudspeakers of these silent tortures,
Lives shattered beneath muddy boots,
Dreams crushed under the law of silence.
How many more bodies must collapse before we hear?
How many more heads must bow before we stop lowering our eyes?
There is a gap between reality and their truth,
Between power and the dust they trample underfoot.
The sirens of chaos do not sing the praises of peace, they howl with anguish,
Badges, those stars of iron, shine only on the skin of radicalized natives.
But we cling to resistance, like a final breath before the abyss,
For those we call criminals do not wear the same chains.
It is their guilty determination that condemns us,
Their hands full of fear, tears, and wounds, but not remorse.
Lamentations are no longer enough, nor are the images,
The forces of anarchy hide their racist savagery behind shields of lies.
They conceal the hatred of their racial instincts under uniforms with a deceiving shine,
But we see it, the rage, in their eyes that burn justice.
They are not our protectors, they are our jailers,
Their decisions are not the law, they are decrees of death.
And you, up there, do you think amnesia is a strong currency?
Do you believe time erases the pain?
No, history does not forget, the memory of the people weeps,
It screams to those who close their eyes, to those who close their mouths.
It is no coincidence that injustice always makes the same sound,
A sound of blows, of screams that fade.
He cried and cried when he had found the Three Penny Opera
was performed to insult his grandfather. "they smiled and treated me kind, all the time insulting me. His grandfather too was insulted as the playwriter rewrote the book using his grandfathers image. He replaced most issues of condoning prostitution with racial overtures and used prostitution as remedy for ailment.
thus in the opera the older men became fathers to brides who would inherit there ailing fathers wealth.This was made into a practise that allowed the
churches to unite against the coupling of certain fellows and their thirtish brides. Always something, never a natural ending for those
they wish to demonize. They made mention of a professor willing to teach a bunch of people, music so that they could form an orchestra, these men were challenged by church women who cited the practice as evil, due to them not being able to read music. The fact is that the mans grandfather never had alot of issues in his life, he waited until he was in his sixties to father a child. He died when his son was Nineteen. His moither was 42. She had been a wild woman before marrage and when her husband died, the women who knew her exaggerated truths to gain the interest and audeince of people. They didn't use the fame positivley instead it was enough to cause member of the town to create a new town elsewhere.
My daily drive; today through pouring rain,
Behind road fog snaking towards me from the truck ahead,
Slowly approaching the cloud-shrouded glass and metal,
Framed by downtown's bustling highways.
Graffiti on walls and overpasses define the city climate
Testimony of a divided space and time
Obscenities litter the viaducts and road signs
Racial slurs and sexual innuendos graphically apparent.
Beggars crowd each corner light.
Wheel chaired homeless; missing limbs and teeth,
Huddled beneath layers of sweaters and tattered jackets,
Mumbling into their private cyberspace of unreality.
Parking lots crowded with brown skinned men,
Waiting for one day's employment to wander by,
Speaking a language that is becoming the norm,
Twelve deep clustered in one room flats.
Sirens wail as the babies cry,
Crack head infants abandoned to a depleted system,
Children birthing children into a burdened structure,
Seams bursting in the waistcoat of mankind.