A fracture in the asphalt's base,
Where giant buildings' shadows fall,
A single seed reclaims its place.
Blind footsteps race.
It hears the buried earth's forgotten call,
A fracture in the asphalt's base.
A stubborn grace,
It will not bow, refusing now to crawl;
A single seed reclaims its place.
A cracking space,
A flash of green where nothing grew at all.
A fracture in the asphalt's base.
Unfolding embrace,
It tears apart the suffocating wall.
A single seed reclaims its place.
The shattered case,
The wild returns to break the city's sprawl.
A fracture in the asphalt's base.
A single seed reclaims its place.
I find shelter, safety in the sunflower field
Although I am no daughter of the sun
I can hide here
Wearing a shining face and following his path
I love him sometimes with his warm hands and even warmer embrace
But like all the other flowers I shrink when he turns cruel and that he will always do
Still I can put on my prettiest face in exchange for his refuge, here amongst my fair sisters pretending I'm like everyone else
At least for a day or two...
Signed ,
A girl named after the moon
You who hide in the darkness of power,
Spare at least a thought for the light.
Do not provoke the youth under the intoxication of authority,
Or you may lose everything that makes your power worth holding.
If you truly have courage, then step onto the battlefield,
For this battlefield offers nothing except loneliness.
We, the youth, walk forward with our lives already at stake.
If you claim to be brave, then face us openly on the battlefield.
Plantation escape
Wasting no time
Being a Slave for too long
Through the swamps, bayou, and rivers
Throwing plantation dog owners off
Through forbidden territories
Sea creatures of all kinds in not being their prey
Darkness falls with a continuation run
Rest only for a brief pause
Distance far and freedom to gain
Shall not surrender to be bound
Eyes from Heaven surround with their gestures
Shall being determined
The Night Stars encourage and enrich the inner soul
Tomorrow is a new day
Beaten no more
Tormented wounds heal
Anguished beyond words
If I who will
Unknown forest where danger lurks
Freedom shall rise
This Slave will no longer bend
Freedom’s end
Retreating to a Slave’s new world.
The heart’s rebellion knows not retreat;
It craves the face
That it sears in its grave,
And waits, and waits...
Though time may leap, yet still it keeps
The rebel’s notion deeply engraved
In its core, in the iron crest.
It claws through dark, through dust, through end—
A vow that rots, yet never ends,
Entombed… yet breathing within.
It carves its way all alone,
Through the chambers—glass and grit—
Where iron gears grind out the breath.
In the heart’s lonely grave
Awaits a heart, bound still,
Not to love, not to grief,
Yet to some unnamed will.
It beats not for sun or moon,
Nor counts the hours of the day;
But like a clock in a hollow room,
It ticks the wasted years away.
It functions by a frozen law,
A clockwork pulse in a chest of stone;
Too deep for any spring to thaw,
It works its logic all alone.
Last minute love,
You left me speechless in this heartless town
From high above
You left me broken and unspoken with a frown
However, you haven’t hurt my heart yet…
You haven’t hurt me with remorse and regret
It was just rebellion kind of love
Let’s face it…
It’s nothing to be ashamed of
Just fight it…
I was young and foolish…
I belong with the rest of the fish
But, this rebellion inside
Made me feel broken pride
Now, where do I hide?
With this rebellion inside?
An evanescent pasture I couldn’t find…
If you can be so kind,
Find me a foolish way to endure — I’m just so blind…
Where do I hide?
This rebellion inside?
It was just rebellion kind of love
Let’s face it…
It’s nothing to be ashamed of
Just fight it…
I was young and foolish…
I belong with the rest of the fish
But, this rebellion inside
Made me feel crucified…
I’m sorry I’m left behind
An evanescent pasture I couldn’t find…
If you can be so kind,
Find me a foolish way to endure — I’m just so blind…
Where do I hide?
This rebellion inside?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Twiggy painted her lids white,
then drew the lines~
black brushstrokes stretching
beyond the corners,
as if her eyes were always
mid-flight, escaping
the confines of her face.
A trick of angles,
the way those lashes spiked
like radio antennae
searching for a signal
in the static of the decade.
Every blink became
a semaphore,
a Morse code of mascara
saying look at me
without needing
to speak.
Every mirror was a protest.
Every kohl line, a rebellion
against the softness
they expected us
post war girls to wear.
We girls copied the shape
with shaky hands,
practicing rebellion
in bathroom mirrors~
sharpening our glances
into weapons.
It was never just about the eyes.
It was about new identities
we claimed with
our orbits of rebellion.
You may read the memoir vignette titled "Twiggy's Eyes" at poetrysoup.com/short_stories/remembering_twiggys_eyes_13651
God Himself wiped out some Jews.' Moses
Called it.' Before and God carried it through.'
Not all who call Him Lord, will be blessed.)
Each minute from the earth, He does many divest.' Its in Numbers sixteen if you care to
Read? Verses thirty one through to thirty three, educate your self.. Let your Conciousness have a feed.'
Rebelliousness is a sacred mark, owned by those who changed people and history.
In the present, it is tortured, hidden, and barely responsive—because it refuses the familiar paths the greats once walked.
But if someone wants to carve their name into it, this generation will not let them.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Scissors whisper through crisp paper,
a tongue of tape curls at the edge.
Fingers fold corners crisp as December air,
hiding secrets under brilliant surfaces.
Like a child's missed heartbeat, the ribbons loops,
each knot a promise ready to break
The bow swells, plump with excitement~
this is where excitement hides, not in the giving,
but in the quiet rebellion of shape:
how paper pretends it was never flat.
I am no bird—yet once I sang in cages,
Feeding on echoes, crumbs of borrowed thought.
My feathers learned the grammar of the ages,
My heart forgot the silence it had sought.
You built your walls from kindness, then from fear,
And called them love, or duty, or despair.
But winds remember what the stones won’t hear,
And names dissolve in unrepentant air.
Now, from your threshold, I unmake my chains,
Not with revolt, but with remembering—
That will is not rebellion, but remains
Of some first dawn, when even God took wing.
I go, unowned, untamed, still incomplete,
But whole enough to walk on my own feet.
With calloused fingers, and ink-stained hands,
A poet prepares for battle.
Searching for the calm in the storm,
Paused, poised, and still.
A deep breath in.. a long exhale;
Their pen becomes a weapon.
The power it wields, undeniable;
It spills truths, immeasurable:
The blood of a shattered Nation.
The pen: a weapon; a battle-cry.
Rallying masses to follow its lead.
Demanding justice, answers, and equality.
The poet, constructing, and carefully crafting;
Their words, building momentum.
Lighting a beacon, leading us all -
Towards a beautifully rare Rebellion.
Over the horizon, the sun rises
A new day, a new hope, a new tomorrow
A reflection of the strength we inherit
The way darkness can't keep us hidden within the shadows
How we don't level with our sorrows
But use them to further bloom
Like a flower born in spring, new beginnings we shall bring
A celebration of life -
Those lost become a starry night
A reminder we haven't lost the fight
The stars our strength to get through, yet another night
Our beacon of hope - the strength to bring justice home
For those who never got to reach that word
Songs of hope passed through generations
Secret codes with messages
Loaded with lyrics of rebellion
Sung with the love of our ancestors
A way to escape, to plan freedom
This is who we are, this is my people
A life led by fear - stalked by the shadows of grief
An Inescapable life of struggle
Yet we rise like a phoenix from its ashes
They may try to burn us, but our embers live on
As much as you try to rid of us, we, black people will never face extinction
Orders descend like sharpened hail
each shard cutting language to ribbons.
We learn to swallow pain quietly,
to bow our eyes before the flag of silence.
Walls do not need ears...
fear builds its own cathedral,
where every heartbeat kneels
to the god of obedience.
Children are taught to trace straight lines,
never to bend them back into loops.
Curves are forbidden
too dangerous a hint
that what dies might begin again.
Even breathing is tallied,
counted like coins in the dark.
Still, a single breath slips past.
Unmeasured, unowned
a secret chord that rattles
the cage of silence.
From that small ignition,
the world remembers how to grow.
be warmed be aware to those who mock the lord
the rules and regulations are there for a reason not scare
to those who believe be warned the weather has changed earth will quake
be sure take cover of forced to swim for the sea will come in and take what it wants by force repent while you can the laws change your world and state 5 or more people having the same dream same vesion no turning back tsunamis earthquakes even fires that are showing god's warning you heed the preacher i sent! came back to me where there's still time i will yet save you from this coming disaster
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