equal rights
Learn more about other poetry terms
Beautiful black nurturing Mother,
Throughout history there is no other,
I used to believe that this world was fair
That equality was everywhere, didn’t know it was rare
I was naive to believe that people are good
Back bent carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders,
Shirt soaked as open wounds ooze oppression,
I gazed at the ocean, just to see your face.
Shift the tides with a smile, the definition of grace,
Do even you know what's behind the mask you where?
Or are you a victim of your own existential dispair?
Fuck me Ass Kicking Pumps
I once read a poem about shoes;
that one shouldn't wear fuck me pumps
but rather combat boots
to stomp all over the patriarchy.
But I disagree.
Beauty. You're too dark for thatYour luscious skin once againhas been attacked by such harsh mentorment and hate was destined for your fatespeak loud and brave, defend your fightno color no race shall determine the end Courage invades yo
We have trembled against men,
We have feared the rise of men
Yet we continue to shout
We shout our rights,
We shout our rights to be equal
once upon a time, a time in the distant.
a time for the future.
a time too far out of reach for the princess of today.
we are the the warriors, the godesses.
the nuturers,
the consultants,
Trudging and dragging
In the scorching heat
Gravel and dust blows
Across their feet
A woman holds the hand of a child
America the Great.
America that is mixed like a blender
but judges based on race
and a someone's gender.
America the Great.
Why do you hate me?
Is it the color of my face?
America: Land of the Free, Home of the Brave…
At least, that’s the lie we tell ourselves,
One so fragile a single man kneeling to the ground threatens to shatter it.
from the steps of lewis and clark
to the marches of those fighting
war of 1812,
mexican american 1846
civil war 1861
the boats of immigrants wanting better life
A country of refuge
People will flee
Politicians will rave
We are,
Land of the free
Home of the brave
Independence we gained
Yet it’s unity we crave
Our politicians still rave
oh, give me a home <br>where the buffalo roam <br>where the deer and the antelope play <br>where seldom may heard a discouraging word <br>and the skies are not cloudy all day <br><br>america, land of true libert
Oh Beautiful Country of mine,
On the backs of the broken you stand.
A pillar of corruption and hypocrisy,
Built on stolen land.
All men are created equal,
I am a Banner Singer.
I know every note and every rhythm.
At every game, under the bright stadium lights,
I sing.
No one is prouder than me,
to sing of my country, for my country.
can't we scatter our love like seeds in the spring and watch them grow and hear the birds singing and as the passer-by smells newborn fruit it will give them a reason to follow suit. can't the love we accept be the love we give? the hungry
I was born in the land of opportunity
My mother's mother was not
My father came here for freedom and unity
Morals and ethics we have since forgot
"We are all the same,"
they say.
They lie.
We are not the same,
you and I.
We are different, two sides
of one coin
And while they say,
"You are equal"
they mean
“White Man White Man”
By: Alexis Stokes-Threat
White man White man
How art thou today
Do you like when the skies are gray
When they are supposed to be blue
Religion is alcohol;
an addiction to judging.
So many people drink it’s poison and their minds get hazed.
They become close-minded;
obsessed.
My fair lady, my fair lady
Be a good girl, be a dear
Do the cleaning, be the cook
All your worth is in how you look
Women are women no matter the sex and men are men in the most of respects,
you may be mixed if you wish,
or both if thats what you want,
you could be neither if you prefer,
Ignore their calls,
walk their halls.
Fight the fight;
it ends tonight.
Resist the urge,
avoid the purge.
Scream out loud
we need a crowd.
The world is wrong,
His skin color does not mean
to violence he is keen
Skin color can't tell what lies
within a person, be it cruel or kind
When I hear you say, “don’t go down that way.
The boys dress like girls. Those people are gay.”
Well I don’t know what you mean, but I know you mean well.
You’ve got a heart of gold, your intentions are swell.
My dialect is catastrophic. Viciously it consumes the minds of those who surround me. To catch only a whisper would reveal the sadistic sense of my nature. At least to some. Those who merge opinions with facts. Bellowing assessments of "this gen
It's wrong of me
To want to be equal.
It's wrong of me
To not feel like a woman.
Or a man.
It's wrong of me
To not be sexually attracted to anyone.
It's wrong of me
The silence slothfully smothers any hesitancies
Gone is the opportunity to right the many discrepancies.
Stereotyped in a single, cursory glance,
The human being is a she and denied the chance
America the great
yet we don't love
we only hate
we joke about other peoples races, religions, and sexuality
yet we underestimate the power of our vocabulary