Nothing has meaning
except what we give it
We draw the lines
the game plans
and in one voice
create their worth
Human beings are set straight
measured up, one by one
like suspects
waiting to be recognized by the witness
snap the mug shot
send them this way
through the corridor
their crime of living
of struggling to live
of dreaming
We gave them the thing
for which to measure themselves
and cut off their heads
the minute they stand up
We forgot to tell them
their kind doesn’t count
Nor does their kind
or their kind or their kind
fingers pointing east, south
and over the sea
Your culture doesn’t count
your life doesn’t count
When we said ‘God loves everyone’
we didn’t mean you
Get off me you filthy scum!
Sit down on the dirt where you belong
Our guns are bigger than yours
aimed at you day and night
We tied your hands behind your back
and set a devil in your ear
your kind doesn’t count
your children don’t matter
When we said ‘God loves everyone’
we didn’t mean you
stupid thing!
Who gave your the right to speak?
We create the things
then call them good
or grow the things
and call them bad
Who can give me a clear answer?
Why is this one good and that one bad?
Does the good thing actually save lives?
Does the bad thing destroy them?
You’re asking the wrong questions
therefore, we cannot answer
Neither saves or destroys
They create lines
put power in our weapons
potency in our self-righteousness
Why do you care about those people anyway?
God doesn’t
they are the forgotten lot
The god we created
we fashioned out of our own clay
We gave him a human voice
and jealous heart
He loves these and not those
obedient to us,
just like we created him to be
He is a him
Like all things should be
unless you want to fuck them
That kind doesn’t matter either
He cares about the things we grow
and made it to be a mortal sin
We told him to care
and hey obeys
Our Father Who is in Heaven
Hollowed Be Thy Name
We are your children
They over there,
Yes them walking hunched over
They are the bastards
Look at their callused feet
They cannot walk in the castle
where You belong
Let us pray
But shut the doors and the gates
Lock them tightly
More chains and bars
Guards and guns
It is our right
We are the chosen ones
Love your piercing poetry…and it makes me sick too–how we treat people.
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Centuries old
weatherbeating
In this
Sunamitornado
Cunning “man”
Rough music
Gravity story
Bashed
Smashed wings
Flight?
Freedom?
Sucked in
Look airborn!
Sucked in
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Sucked
In
There
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Dance
poetry with poetry
sunamitornados
at your command
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I know this came from a specific time and place, but has been written with a noble and heroic step-back – no names, no locale – so that it can be read in any place and time where power wins over the most natural of birth-right: the pure nature beyond name to be found
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Thank you lewis! You are exactly right.
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