Preston Damsky speaks what he considers ‘his truth’ to power
That’s how he attained his ‘shining hour’
A law student at the University of Florida
He called to ‘abolish the Jews, by any means necessary’
A judge found Preston innocent, citing the First Amendment
as if it were one of the Ten Commandments
Though decent folks always thought that every man’s freedom stops
where another man’s begins...
Well, here I am tonight to speak my truth to Mr. Damsky:
Your ‘freedom’ is unearned, for you have threatened my life
And you will be a lawyer, perhaps a judge too, later in life
So, what will you do, you bigot, when I argue my case against you
Anger, the emotion of the unheard,
When words won't work, it speaks through hurt
Peace was never an option - when the hate you give continues to burn
When the hands you touch, turns to ashes
Anger becomes validation, for when comfort is a luxury not afforded
Outcasted, into the shadows, our pain overlooked
Anger, an echo of ancestral hurt,
Of justice unserved -
The rights of black people, constantly burned
This the reason why peace can no longer be an option
Anger is our self-made reparations
We decide how we recover,
We decide how to heal
We decide our emotions
Dictation is the tool of the weak, abused by our oppressors
We feel what we feel due to their racism
The way we deal, was never our fault
It was the world that forced us into survival
Our healing will be their downfall
Anger is one of our greatest weapons
It is the fuel for every revolution,
This is what gives every movement energy
It travels in our blood, in each blood vessel
Anger is necessary to our survival -
Because to be a conscious black person, is to live in a constant state of anger
Except pool blood and chicken feather,
Marriage is not a lifesaver.
Don't put all weight in the cabin,
Or use marriage as a safe haven.
Divorce is a major misfortune in life,
Leaving unsuitable person is a good strife.
Decision to divorce is much more difficult,
Decision to marriage is easy as opening a vault.
Marriage should be the icing on the cake,
Divorce is an emo-psycho exhausting war freak.
Homeless ones feel invisible,
Daily, they feel this way.
Because people, hundreds, pass by,
but never … a word say.
What makes me sad is knowing they’re
some Mother’s, dear lost child.
Missing years, why seldom seen these
Moms ever really ... smile.
Homeless have their own fears; some are
afraid to strangers speak.
Fear what could happen cause they’ve seen
too many … act like freaks.
Police know of rare 'brotherhood,'
among homeless exist.
Approach homeless wrong way,
what feel … will be their fist.
True, some want to be left alone,
But what about others?
In sidewalk "Tent Neighborhoods," some
act as … Dads and Mothers.
Homeless protecting each other’s
tents, and few belongings.
They’re ‘GOD SENDS”, til God’s Kingdom comes,
blessings … to all folks bring.
When God’s will is done on earth, all
Homelessness will cease.
Mental illness won’t plague mankind,
Moms' hearts … at last at peace!
Sept.15, 2023
The mind was an enemy of itself
A weapon forged by its own hands
Every thought a spiral of panic
Every decision a thought out plan
Silence became a blessing when noise is all you've known
It becomes a safe place after a war of chaos
The betrayal of your own thoughts is a tragedy on its own
To not have your own back, in a world against you
Is to have a house not a home
To be surrounded by people, yet still feel alone
A prison of your insecurities
Haunted by the ghost of regrets
Forever lingering in the deepest part of your soul
The mind a vast ocean of dead past selves
Screaming to be heard
Begging to be known
Wailing to be loved
But who could love a mind that's perception of love is non-existent
Fatigue drains the fight from the spirit
Within the mind numbness creeps
Paralysing the mind until it gives in
To a life sectioned by depression
Until the poison of self deprication becomes too much
That you fall into the state of being a zombie
Trapped inside a body you no longer own
Each day becomes a blur
A constant reminder of a life long gone
A sad ending to the person you were
It’s not your fault, I tell you;
You show me things as they are,
Without any bias or prejudice.
But, it’s mind that presumes
Things quite differently.
Without you I become blind,
I miss the world around.
In pleasure and pain
You rain tears alike.
You’re the tool of my sight.
2nd place
Worry makes you weary,
Work makes you cherry.
Worry makes you old,
Work gives you gold.
Worry gives you shame,
Work makes you fame.
Worry makes you thin,
Work helps you win.
Worry is subtraction,
Work is addition.
Worry feels you guilt,
Work attracts wealth.
Worry makes you sorry,
Work gives you glory.
The mind that deeply think,
Looking eyes doesn't blink.
When the mind always wander,
The eyes look beyond the yonder.
Matured mind think twice,
A signature that you are wise.
Each nice to know that you're in,
We're now in concentration to win.
Do not interrupt
When your enemy got erred
Silence has damage.
We all know how the poem goes,
But too many didn’t care.
Now are neighbors are facing woes,
And leaving home is something they don’t dare.
They came for those who sounded off,
Then with a difference in how they love,
Followed by those with a different god,
And so many more who thought they were above.
Prices went through the roof,
Jobless rates soared,
People’s futures went poof,
And wealth was built for the board.
This is what they voted for,
An excuse to kill the poor.
Even as the forest grew thin and frail,
The trees kept cheering the axe.
For the axe was cunning — smooth with speech,
And wore a handle carved from their flesh.
It whispered, “I am one of you,”
And they believed —
As the sound of chopping became their anthem,
And their roots trembled beneath their faith.
They fell, one by one,
Singing loyalty to their destroyer —
Until the forest was gone,
And only the axe remained,
Lonely, with nothing left to cut.
Little darling, thy fada wears a garland of frowns,
The breda must explain their jokes to him across the night,
Worry devours his heart,his wallet emptied of light,
Fallen sistrins and soaring debts weigh him down.
Parasitic friends,the firewater that hauls him down,
Your mada' open relationship haunts him without end
You poor black girl,his paternal duty no hand can mend,
So little darling,mockingbird sings sagacity' gentle crown.
'' Motivate him'',cries nightingale,'' seek angels that heel,
Set calm and clear,boundaries firm and the rule of right,
Recall the days when Rastafari made his soul bright ,
Technicalized guidance cuts through despair and anger's steel.
Sistren and fada ,simmer down a little bit,sooth the strife,
And read The Holy Piby for blessings in holy Jah life''
Glossary of Useful non pompous English terms:
Fada-father
breda-brother
sistrins -sisters
mada--mother
Rastafari--the best religion
technicalized-professional
Holy Piby-Bible of Rastafari
Washed up, run down
Run out of town
Holding on to the old
is casting my mold
I can break free
determine my own destiny
Bursting with passion at the seam,
She entered and settled in the room.
Intent on telling them it is good to dream,
She showed them proof bound in the spines of books.
Taught them that centuries of change
Had granted free access to being visible.
Their eyes gleamed with purpose
To think their dreams were permissible.
Like prisoners who had fully served their time,
They strapped hope on their backs,
Promise throbbing in their hearts
When she told them the condition was benign.
And with tireless exhilaration
She invited them to stand.
She stitched their wings with her
Magic wand.
But just when
they were to take flight,
a shriek filled the air
It was an ominous sight
As the old hag
Swooped in
on her systematic broom.
Stole
their dreams.
Left them gagged.
And you walked with me
in drear-nighted February
through the smell of petrol
in the farmer's yard.
Your song is a piece
of global clay
and clay grows wild
magnetic Gael roses.
The splendour of colour in this life
is as rare as holding a symphony
midst the siren's wail
and shockheaded metal violence.
Light of my eye
hazel and sallow flower
You were imprisoned by a bit part
in history--
granted a proletarian choice
by dawn gryphons--
denounced what you loved
with dignity.
Victims and riots
in so many parts--
Peace may yet be possible
in this moment,
as you lead me up the creaking stairs,
gently by the hand.
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Specific Types of Prejudice Poems
Definition | What is Prejudice in Poetry?