Long Stereotypes Poems
Long Stereotypes Poems. Below are the most popular long Stereotypes by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Stereotypes poems by poem length and keyword.
I walk through mass graves blessed by complicit priests.
Their chalices vomit oceans of bones.
Every psalm they chant tolls like a hangman’s rope.
Their angels, vultures, feast on the scorched flesh of the defeated.
They branded my ancestors with burning irons,
Then wrote their names in the ledgers of hell.
Prayers never extinguished the flames of the pyres,
They fed them with hypocritical blessings.
I am the offspring of a grave never sealed,
A pain trivialized in the throats of our dead.
My cradle, a mass grave,
My inheritance, a diabolical will smeared with dried blood.
They speak of humanity with lips coated in ashes,
But their hands still tremble from the chains they forged.
Their human rights are epitaphs carved on violated tombs.
Their racist stereotypes howl like shrouds in the wind.
I have no heaven to behold,
Only the soot of colonial furnaces.
I have no future to invoke,
Only wandering shadows in my fractured veins.
Let them pray to their cannibal gods,
I will pray to my scars.
Let them promise a deceitful paradise,
I will kneel before the darkness of my demons.
I am a standing specter,
An unburied revenant.
I live among the ruins of a world that never loved my skin,
And I breathe the tainted air of slaughtered centuries.
I wanna
I wanna ride a bike
It's my spike
It's in the night
Just like a knight
Speed must be over
My engine roar must hover
Rain must there
Windy shouldn't care
I wanna loud
Want to reach cloud
Just wanna shout
When everyone's voice is out
I am a girl , my hairs are wavy
This is the dream of mine , it's not something crazy
I want to roar
Isoar
I wanna be free
I am hell tired of being a tree
I am simple, having a pimple
Let the world rest ,I am done with test
Lets one night come
When I would be out
Rain will be there
Wind shouldn't care
Speed must be over
My engine should roar
Its my spike
I wanna ride bike
Poet :Bhoomi Bhardwaj
A man gets killed by the police
in a most undeserving way,
we all see it and all agree
they were wrong, and will have to pay.
The president himself sees it
and then sends in the F.B.I.,
to figure out why this happened,
since such behavior cannot fly.
The cop who did it is locked up,
to face what verdict may be found,
and somehow people think this means
they should burn the whole city down?!
As if wanton destruction can
undue something already done?
As if hurting other people will
improve the world for everyone?
As if destroying your own jobs
2ill somehow make everything right?
And not just convince others to
distrust all of you at first sight?
And those criminal stereotypes
that people complain of all the time,
do you think arson and assault
will make those people change their minds?
Do you think people that you hurt
will say,”It’s justified,”when they bleed?
They did nothing to deserve this,
you’re just planting future hate’s seed.
The lefties types may support you,
but eventually, when this all fails,
do you think those politicos
will care much when you rot in jail?
And what of those in your neighborhoods
who seem homes and business destroyed?
You ruin a person’s life work
they’ll be more than a little annoyed.
Since most of these folks are you own,
your fathers, your mothers, your kin,
do you think destroying their lives
could ever somehow be a ‘win?’
You’re not fighting for justice here,
you're just violent, criminal scrum,
we all see you on the TV,
running around as if it’s just fun.
Did Martin Luther King loot towns
when faced with oppression far worse?
Would Jim Crow have been defeated
if he’d acted a violent jerk?
And when the big guns do come out,
you'll find yourselves well and truly f@#ked.
Nothing excuses what’s going down,
you rioters all truly suck.
"free from conditioned belief
no agenda on our shelf
vibrant as the light of Self
life flows on all by itself” - Unseeking Seeker
Faith is more than a mere noun,
phrased within fragile pages
of a tailored manuscript;
it is a way of life,
found in the zestful air we breathe,
in the hushed haze
of peace and intrinsic love.
I bloom like a lotus,
floating through silence~
tied to tulip-twinkles of twilight,
turning nautical stripes
into midnight prayers,
sailing through the skyline
like a cultural odyssey,
facing the eyes of
the speechless sun,
to untangle brutal tendrils
chaining my sapphire spirit
to terrains of ashes,
smudged with societal lies
and narrow perceptions.
And as the wind blows
cinnamon hymns,
I listen to the heartbeat
of the horizon,
adorned with balmy auroras,
ricocheting runes engraved
within the pristine pillars
that hold firm the hibiscus haven~
a sanctuary that hears not the mantras
of megalomaniac meadows,
too consumed by stereotypes
and prewritten scriptures,
curled into clusters of constraints,
sprinkling superficial sparkles
to hypnotize the naive.
O utopian chateau,
I choose to soar free,
like a peacock plume
swirling in sync with
the lilac light of falcon fortitude,
and the timeless pulse of the Almighty,
unshakable from the
gusts and gales
enveloping my conscience
like a maroon maelstrom of misery.
I choose to follow
the soothing shimmers,
of the morning stars,
letting go of the
tempest of Midas’ touch~
labels and ego,
discrimination and darkness,
materialism and fickleness,
while the icy weeds
in my skin unfurl
empathy and kindness,
aware of sacred states
sewn with threads of
karma and kundalini.
I am the soulful veins
of an amaranthine leaf,
flawed in fire,
embracing the
fluorescent frequencies
that ebb and flow
like waves of wisdom,
surfing through fogs of fairy-tears,
like sea-glass smoke
kissing the porcelain
sands of serenity.
So, between the melodious mists
of the breeze and the blue,
there I find a reason
to rise and rinse stained ripples,
while attuned with
the butterfly dews resting upon
divine diamonds of blissfulness.
Where was I?
unusual.
behind
the dizzying looking glass,
cement block,
panelled windows,
noonish saloons
sipping my loathing
like mosquitoes
milking stone veins
constipated.
contemplating pretty suspects
and their banditry of spotlight and shadows;
cute fashions with their dreamboat accessories.
Snatched away!
Who was I?
a deserted
quotient.
All of me, crumbs
sucking thumbs,
snorting baby powder, perfumed by heaven's hope,
resisting hunger
and decomposing
inside career mascot attire -
long-sleeves and layered layers
buttoning down body shame.
Where were we?
Ten-and-less aisle,
bargain corner debates.
Okay, maybe unquestioned.
Neither taken,
nor given as a suggestion,
no soft eyes
pursuing my pepper coarse afro edges,
rising bust, diffusive thighs
and stooped shoulders.
Hominim deflated,
experiencing overqualified non-affection
as a ruminant beast,
between ungovernable lioness
and resigned kitten.
I was left holding a pen,
multiplying stereotypes
around fatherless girls
without an agreeable image
of self
who fell for blank pages
to redraw the stages
that had
failed
hearts.
Flesh.
The posts online.
Telling us to be kind.
I am a year older,
Awareness somehow feels colder.
Every April we are surprised.
By the people who are brave enough to rise.
While others stay on the ground.
Grimacing without a sound.
They get a thrill from buying pins.
But it makes me twinge.
When we exchange pleasantries.
Like we’ve done for centuries.
I always have to say,
How I’m doing ok.
But I feel like a seal with a ball.
The stereotypes, I juggle it all.
My friend texted me today.
Telling me about Autism Awareness Day.
I know she’s kind, I know she tries.
But if I told her, she’d think it’s a lie.
Stripped of dignity
A refusal of warmth
Forced palatability
A black woman's life
A spectacle to society
Our pain Comedy
Silence our only company
In a world that chooses to ignore
Our words speak with wisdom
They choose to echo
Educated and intellectual
Our voices heed with warning
Our weakness our instinct to nurture
Despite their instinct to murder
We want the world to progress
Yet their hate prevents them to listen
Their prejudice leads to regression
A painful reminder that we don't matter
Even if we are right, even if we are being helpful
Our tendency to water until It overflows
Pouring our all until we have no more
We are the givers of life
The beginning of it all
But when we call for help
We are left all alone
The burdens of life
Fall onto our shoulders
The world's problems
Left for us to solve
You claim we are to blame that we are the cause
Used us to clean messes that were never ours just yours
Our life hard
Our spirits strong
But don't mistake strength
With a lack of emotions
We are forced into this life left with no choice
But you already know this because you don't even see us as human
Just something to control and make palatable
Unless your black and a woman
You dont get a say on our struggles
We dont need you to dictate our emotions
Just listen when we call
Don't throw stereotypes around not knowing the damage it can cause
We are not superhuman
We can't do it all
We are not your mother's
Or even disposable
We are not objects to be used then to be stored
We are the blueprint, we are unforgettable
We have hung up our capes and we are not your heroes
We will not be a mattress to catch you when you fall
You can't eat your cake and still have it all
Your ignorance is not welcome here to abuse no more
Motive:
jealousy twisted into a desire for power,
Systems built from broken trust,
Superiority sourced by those who exude it,
Blood spilled from the hands of those who are black
Empires built from false prophecy
Lies cultivated from the weeds of projected self-hatred
Motive - the white man to appear as the superior race
Alibi:
The fragility of whiteness,
The acidic tears of the white woman,
The weaponisation of power by the white man,
The homemade, home-baked stereotypes - to divide
Propaganda pieced together with the glue of prejudiced policies -
Weaving deceit to narrate harmful ideologies of blackness
The portrayal of victimhood, for the picture of white innocence,
The abuse of power, to abuse black people
Alibi - racial killings masquerading as self-defence
The defence rests
Prosecutors sweat
The judge, blinded by bias
The jurors , all white
The verdict:
Not guilty -
By reason of fear of colour
Acquitted
Now freedom awaits -
For the white man, now he can do it again
It’s the land of milk and honey,
you fail to see beneath stars and stripes;
Hard work holds prosperous and free;
The lifestyle seems to come so easy,
lost within stories and stereotypes;
It’s the land of milk and honey;
Just getting by is a catastrophe,
inflation and basic survival snipes;
Hard work holds prosperous and free;
Left coast dreams east coast tyranny,
always seem to be surrounded by hypes;
It’s the land of milk and honey;
Pushing limits is what it was meant to be,
competition gives birth to prototypes;
Hard work holds prosperous and free;
Stay grounded and look carefully,
flooded with media and fancy teletypes;
It’s the land of milk and honey,
hard work holds prosperous and free.
This is a poem.
It's not abstract.
So if you just sit back and listen,
you'll understand
I'm going to say this poem twice,
so listen with your heart the first time
but listen with your heart again
Say good morning when someone says good morning to you
Speak when spoken to
Look a person in the eye and be confident even if you're not
and be willing to learn what you know not
Don't be so quick to speak out loud
and then cover your mouth in shame
once you realize what just came out
It's too late - so think before you shout
Be accountable for your actions
Your character is defined by what you do when people aren't looking
because when they are
They see in your behavior all the doings of the heart
So be honest with yourself and do the right thing...it's not hard
Learn!
Use life's resources
I know what it's like to be in dark places
going through trials - unhappy child
But learning and reading and growing is all relative to your future
So escape in a poem or good book
and don't let the enemy defeat you
Stay in touch with positive members of your family ties
Record yourself saying wonderful things about your life
Recite them daily...then write
Be the first to offer respect
Stay calm
give others a chance to talk
Be humble, but never nobody's fool
Don't allow others to mistreat you
Stand up for your rights and have a voice,
but do it with dignity and be tactful.
And girls...
Go ahead..wear your skinny jeans and your bangles
but accept other for their style, their view
see things from their angle
And fellas...
Pull those pants up..tuck those shirts in
and stop trying to be gangsta
If I can see your underwear thats unacceptable behavior
and it's not okay
It's embarrasing to the struggle and it's a disgrace
It's time to move past the stereotypes of race
I know you got alot to face
but once you learn what your ancestors did to get you to this place,
It will seem like a walk in the park
and you'll be proud to have helped the case
Young people I tell you
if you follow these rules
You can change the world
and become a generation renewed