Long Stereotyped Poems
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Me, I never learn from teachers
Could not speak till middle school
So I learned intuition from those who don't hear
Can't vocalize at speed of thought
Graduated five credits short by my words and thought
After being misunderstood, stereotyped and judged
by a equal man who looks down on those who don't
Fit in to the mold of him and discredited message
By way of being biast to propaganda and media
thoughts.
I don't wish to offend the art
But I have held nothing but words
I was to humble to speak
I tried to hide and searched for death
But my words are not mine there sent
And until I face fate I am unable to enter the gate
I wish not credit, for this is essence above a unique
soul
I can't speak these parables
To be scrutinized by those who follow only gold
From alpha to the end
There has been the essential divinity
In all so life could grow, love laugh, sin
Spoken word is to be cherished and honored
Only if bold, not self serving, and reasonable
To all human kind.
So what makes you upstanding
Arrogance, or hand picked syllabus
Which is of no relevance in the truth you are denying
Form:
I used to think of tokens
in terms of appreciation
Until someone mentioned
something in passing
they said they had grown weary
of being a token
What a curious thing to say
is what I thought at the time
But I soon got to see it all
for what it really was
It often starts off innocently enough
The appeal of getting the opportunities
denied the rest of your kind draws you in initially
To be the exception to the rule
is most certainly a thrill
You get to be the exotic one
while the others are seen as repulsive
It can quickly turn to one selling their soul to earn or maintain approval
It's an easy trap to fall into in all fairness
In most cases you have to be a yes man
Willing to vote against your kind to fit in
Being a complete and shameless sell out is a must
You have to put up with being stereotyped for effect
Even throw in a few laughs at bigoted jokes
aimed at your kind for added bonus
Nobody wants to be rejected obviously
but being a token might result in self betrayal
or even self hate,I think
You have to shun a part of yourself
in order to be useful in concealing disparity
Be the bold voice and face that represents a false display of equality
How do you ever look your kin
in the eye again after that, I wonder
Or even look at your skin and coily hair with love ever again
Do you simply stop seeing any of that
as part of your identity, maybe
How does one even begin to cope with all that burden
You might even start believing the scam that you have been lured into
Its truly tragic in my opinion
But then again what do I know
I'm not built to be a pet
I'm an African wildling
I was born free
Form:
Most people although aged
are very much young at heart
They love to dance and play
They get excited in small things
How many old and middle aged would love to behave like young?
Full of joy and enthusiasm
Well... Most of them
That day during a cricket match
I made a bet with son
As my team hit sixes and fours
I clapped and jumped in joy
I even danced an awkward dance
My son said Mom you don't behave like fifty
I said I don't care, I want to enjoy
We all laughed, we had lot of fun
I do whatever my mind says
Sometimes child like and silly
I am young at heart
Such acts keep me always happy
I often wonder why should one behave as grownup
when still a child at heart
Why can't we be our true self
Instead of following stereotyped world
It is so much fun to be a child
Just be and see
I got these words from dictionary:
Enthusiasm, Awkward, Stereotyped, Self, Child
Date: 10/14/2020
Winner 1st position
Service workers wearing fake smiles perform for the customer. Catering to their needs; pretending. Insecure bosses put the pressure on making it known that you are replaceable. Treated as a number, employees wear name tags. Told what to wear and that opinions don't matter. Corporate policies drive the machine and the answer lies in the picture book. Great emphasis put on consistency, resulting in robotic behavior that is rewarded. Individuality is highly discouraged. In matching uniforms to represent a company; divided into groups and stereotyped. A job well done is expected without acknowledgement but mistakes are called out from the other side of the window. Two faced co-workers throw you under the bus and get tongue tied when confronted. It's obvious that their own insecurities drive such behavior. The bigger person feels compassion. Walking on egg shells in their presence and justifying his behavior with hard work. Fools buy into the lies and carry it's message with confidence. Creating an image of someone they don't even know. Judge mental mentalities that boost egos at the expense of someone else. Ambivalence is rare in this word of mouth to mouth industry and your secrets aren't safe. Gossip queens give dirty looks and stick up their noses. Little do they know that they actually know so little. Often shocked when they find out the truth. I see through this transparent behavior and I don't get involved. I'm too old for the drama and my time isn't wasted on such issues. These attitudes are contagious and so easily adopted. Breaking the cycle and avoiding it's virus, calls for a man with life experience. Someone who has already been through this and been in the shoes that they wear. It takes an open mind built on a foundation of acceptance. This is an attitude that cannot be taught, closed minds won't listen. Lead by example, an impact can be made. Lowered expectations influence less judgement. People are born into a harsh world and at the end when the waitress presents you with the check; gratuity is not included.
Experienced a third bigger earthquake recently but this poem I wrote for a smaller earthquake years ago)
My first trivial tremor experience had been in Southern Africa
And now this puny earthquake I felt in Tanzania.
I saw every thing waltz to and fro and lightly shake
Bottles turned ballerinas dancing slightly to the quake
I watched glass decors on the walls quiver and jolt
Scaredy me was half asleep, no wonder didn't bolt
I thought I was dreaming or imagining things
My bed and chairs converted into gentle swings.
All vials and vases
jiggled to dance a jig
The lil horrors over
So I cast humor's wig
Ah when began rattling, the knick knacks on my dresser
Was when it dawned upon me in horror
That this was really an early dawn tremor.
I phoned some friends but those early risers
Hadn't even noticed or felt those tremors
I bet they thought I was spreading false rumours
After all poets are stereotyped as fanciful philosophers.
My cell phone keypad became my panic button in a flurry
Of course I wanted all to be alerted, alarmed in worry
Nobody believed me until it was announced in our mosque
And every body was then called by muezzin to pray the signs prayers
Then every body knew the tremor was no hoax
Some patted me for being the first to notice this shaking of earthly layers
Of course I thanked God this was no major earthquake
I've heard in other places how terribly the earth can crack and shake
Who else but God could I owe my heartfelt gratitude
For this being my 2nd low power tremor in magnitude
As it measured low on the Richter scale
based on the seismic waves' amplitude
But the earth was shaken and I too was shaken
No pics of the shivering axis were taken
Todate runs down my spine such a shiver
On recalling how the mother earth did quiver
I have seen videos of earthquakes where the earth juggles things
like a salt shaker
May God protect us from such a waker and breaker
I'm sick of the silence
I’m sick of the distance
I’m sick of hiding
I’m sick of being someone i’m not
I’m sick of trying too hard just to fall short
I’m sick of the lies, the lies that keep me up at night wondering if this was a canon event that changed my life
I’m sick of trying too hard just to fall short, over, and over again
I’m sick of the loss of friendship in our society
I’m sick of the tension
I’m sick of being a teen
I’m sick of feeling
I’m sick of the anxiety and overthinking
I’m sick of the mood swings
I’m sick of being a girl, stereotyped and criticized, expected to do the wrong thing.
‘She’s doing excellent’ -
B-U-T,
She could speak up more,
Maybe even -
Participate
To the girl -
Something does not sit right,
She DOES participate,
So why does this teacher lie,
She can’t help but feel undermined -
Whenever she speaks in class, she is stereotyped
On the inside she cries,
On the outside she smiles -
In fear the teacher will tell another lie
Her parents notice but they don’t pry,
They empathise, because they understand why
They know if they speak -
She’ll be expelled,
And this is the best school in their town,
They don’t want to ruin her chances, to become what they couldn’t,
The daughter understands, this happened to them as well
In times where eyes are fixated at your sins,
judgment trolls in deceptive double standards.
When pointing fingers nobody really wins,
there's no joy in being defamed and slandered.
Swimming in an aquarium full of fins,
sharks will bite your flesh then leave you abandoned.
Scars will bleed with pain making you feel brittle,
hard hearts will laugh with insults that belittle.
Afraid of exposure honest souls retreat,
when their character's stereotyped by lies.
Frenemies hide behind a mask of deceit,
their envy is an embarrassing disguise.
Decline the pedestal they place on your feet
emancipate from enslavements that chastise.
Stay clear from those who act like a spirit thief,
growth from ignoring spite gives you self belief.
I lived so many years in a stupor being capable of turning crystals green
Now I’m sober it’s different and naturally alters my state of mind
Experiencing a wider range of feelings than I felt before
Emotional intelligence can be an awkward companion though
With heightened emotions my feelings become more revealing
And revealing is exactly what it is and can lay you bare
In the past when limited to anger and lust it seemed an easier place
Supposedly strong and able to cope, with a glass permanently in hand
Just accepting not being able to see, or so it seemed
Life was a breeze back in those hazy days when totally blind with drink
Lack of confidence or shyness masked with a cloak of inebriated skills
Popular and sociable but really an island of loneliness in an ocean of friends
Any social gathering, I was the first through the door and the last to leave
Not sure when it happened but I started to dislike myself
Like a stereotyped actor playing characters I no longer believed in
Knowing where I was heading, I felt something seriously needed to change
Sometimes I wonder how it is that the new simple can be so complicated
There seems much more to balance with a supposedly clear head
But can your head be clear if your mind is cluttered with so many thoughts
Clarity appears to bring overthinking which sometimes doesn’t help
When the darkness descends it weighs much heavier than before
So I tell myself that I need to plant my feet firmly and embrace reality
But that’s hard to do when unsure of what or who you are
I don’t understand myself sometimes so how to explain to others
I need my head in country roads not speeding down motorways
Not easy when life requires a bullet train but I yearn for the orient express
It’s true that life is full of challenges but often the biggest of all is ourselves
DARK DROPS TINKLING,
SOME SHADOW FIGURES HAUNTING.
ONE LAUGHING AT LOUD VOICE,
OTHER ONE HOLD THE BLACK ROD,
NEXT ONE ENCHANTING IN CYPHER LANGUAGE.
SUDDENLY THE SOIL DIG TRENCH,
THE TRENCH FILLED WITH HUMAN BLOOD,
FIGURES SIPPING WITH HOLLOW BONES.
HORRIFIED LAUGH ECHO TO TARTARUS,
BAD BLOOD BAD BLOOD FILTHY,
WE ARE SIPPING, HO! HO! SIPPING COLD.
EYES BLINK IN THE BOTTOM OF TRENCH,
PRIDE EYES STONED, DESIRE EYES BLIND,
THEY ARE PLAYING EYES AS BALLS.
THROUGH NERVE STRING GUITAR ONE TUNED,
ONE SING, FOUL LUST NERVE, FOUL TEMPT FIBROUS,
BURNT AWAY! BURNT AWAY!
WIZARDS CELEBRATED IN STEREOTYPED FEST,
BLUE SPIRITS BEMOAN ON THE DUST.
Form: