by Duke Beaufort |
We’re mostly big and contorted
From snacks and diets distorted
If you are still thin
You no longer fit in
Small portions our culture's aborted
Author's note: Just got back from the continent. People are still much leaner there than here. We need to stop filling ourselves and learn to be a little more satisfied with less. It is really OK. Now pass the fries please! BTW, the central market in Florence is a fantastic display of food love, yet the people there are thin. How can this be?
by Jesse Jones |
confusion, imagination, introspection, life, lost love, love, mystery,
My love is a miscarried child,
a faceless evil aborted
before its heart could start beating,
before its eyes could grow in.
Of course I would hide it away!
by Chokri Omri |
time, me, hope, me,
Looking at them carefully
Makes me grow sea sick
but I try to calm my soul
and spirit with songs and hymns
Of Love and Freedom gone.
The cold streets of the city
And the arising fears I see
In the faces of my people
Cannot but dispel those of mine.
Where are the sweet tales told
Down to us from father to son ?
Where are the woods gathered
To withstand the cold weather
To make it depart for warmth and sun ?
I hope this is enough for division
I hope this is enough for admonition
Looking at them looking at me now
Makes me aimlessly wander and smile
What I continue to keep in my heart
They did forget and they only
come and go and wonder none.
by chris bowen |
deathme, , cute,
in the leaves,come and gone.a babies head sewn on.the leaves turn to grey.blown away with
dismay.the baby died today and is a ghost.his mother host electricuted him to toast.her
doctor boast it wont hurt the boy.tomorrow your day will fill with joy.picture me this i love the
wrist bracelet they gave me when i died.i wear it everyday,with tradition and pride.
by Millard Lowe |
allegory, analogy, bereavement, child, eulogy, imagery, sad love,
for another budding child flower
alone in the dark uterus
of my bedroom
I lie curled up
of the day:
another budding flower
plucked from the garden street
leaving its red sap
as a jaded memento
to stained innocence
and hoodwinked justice
another aborted life
as echoes of fading outcries
on reefs of passing time
of another heinous crime
will soon vanish
from human notice
with my cervical poised head
resting on tear soaked pillow
I pray god that not another child flower
be not plucked away tomorrow
by Ashly Raju |
lost love, sin,
With the sparkle experience
Of the warm abdomen,
I was napping in the gentle, silky womb.
All forced me to turn
The nap into the sleep
Not in the uterus,
But in the world of
At the movement
When I was separated from you
I clutched you with
A silent sob.
Why don't you give me
An occasion to receive
Your cool kisses?
Why don't you allow me
To know the world
By sitting in your lap?
Why don't you permit me
To open my eyes
At least for once
To see you.
Whether my presence was
A burden for you-
Or my life was
An annoyance for you.
I need not to be
Severed from you………
by M. L. Kiser |
death, earth, environment, natural disasters, poems, sorrow, truth,
Why do you who
insist that you love me
continue to rape my spirit.
Suffocating it as the wolf censors
the sheep’s last breath
You insist that I be as you dictate
but, you bleed me.
I a pawn; you a player
you manipulate my existence
Lost in the group mind of ignorance
you smother me.
My soul is older than you
Yet, you would sever
my physical existence.
Perhaps I should have aborted you
and kept the others human…perhaps…
by Corey Ross |
Some love the sound of them shots poppin off
especially when they're the one that's pulling the trigger
I hate this because in the black community
it seems like Willie Lynch theory is looking
more like a script that was written
Yesterday those shots brought tears to my eyes
because I'm sick and tired of this plague
called black on black violence
and it's looking more like an eternal sickness
it doesn't bring tears to my eyes because I'm terrified
For my own life but because we as a people
have aborted and terminated the seeds we sow
for a lil bit of doe, accepted a nickname
high off pride not knowing to society
You too are just a john doe with an expiration date.
by pipping stars |
what of this
slide a little closer
tell me of your closuer
sculpt me another poser
pedaling all my words
lettering into herds
by Dawn Gordon |
The man aborted a fetus many months or days ago,
No spirit inside to speak of or to even know,
Constant poems or songs posted to view and see,
It only pushes love away from any possibility.
The aborted fetus was with a lady left for fire,
Should never have happened or had desire,
She is bound to eternity in hell for all she did,
God wanted her out of his life and told him to forbid.
But he carried on and on and would not let this go,
He carried seeds and spread them to grow,
He scared off many a girl for this gross connection,
It was like a constantly seen past dissection.
by James Horn |
Danger and Darkness Courted
Much danger and darkness courted;
What I could do is have it thwarted;
Get rid of,
Or transported away and be aborted.