country
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¡Oh! No, nunca deberían hablar de Puerto Rico
Borinquén, Porto Rico de una manera tan malvada
Puerto Rico nada en el mar Caribe y el Océano Atlántico
Con otras bellas islas como Cuba, Haití y Jamaica
The Maafa - The Great Tragedy - The African Holocaust
Culture, name, religion, and many lives lost
Sailing West from the Gulf of Guinea through the Atlantic Ocean
Meu país é o belo sol
Meu país não é o inverno rigoroso
Meu país é um Éden muitas vezes verde
Sempre lânguido e tropical ao amanhecer.
My country is the beautiful sun
My country is not the hard winter
My country is an often green Eden
Calls countries make
Are made by their people
Calls countries receive
Are received by the people
Yearning for a country transfixed or transformed
I was 16 years old when I finally realized that I was gay.
When I finally understood why I had so many girlfriends,
But could barely speak to other boys
I was 16 years old when I first kissed a boy
The golden sun raysstreaming through the curtains.Scorching heat,forty degrees at nine in the morning,water in the taps piping hot,vapor from the garden grassas the gardener waters garden,dried burned leaves,and twigs upon the branches,not a bird
Don’t you see your children
bleeding?
Don’t you hear your children
screaming?
Don’t you see your country
burning?
I am from Spices
From paintings and pictures
I am from the blissful hospitality
(welcoming, adaptable,
Oh! Thou sweet land of the free, 🇱🇷
You paved the way so others could find their ways
Where men of letter fought for a better day,
And find solutions without delay.
Oh! The first daughter of Africa 🇱🇷
Let our hearts be strong,
Let our minds be strong,
Let our souls be strong;
As strong as our leaders,
As our people,
Who sacrificed themselves for us
Who sacrificed themselves for future,
Pain to be documented
for the sake of civilization.
Pain, language of the unspoken,
censored, plugged and precluded.
Pain of mothers daughters and lovers,
of sons, fathers and admirers.
Old traditions
Country brought to life again
We smell a wet grassy field
Hear the twang of banjos and the screeeeeeeeeech
Of fiddles
Smell roasting ham and sausages
Look at growing pumpkins
Traveling is a part of who I am
A search of me
In a place I've never seen
Weather buildings or the jungle
I find myself in bundles
I explore sandy beaches and towns where I am faceless
her eyes compress and wrinkle pure in time
for once was ease, now, shelters dread upon
disturbing thoughts perturb a chill down spine
the first and closing vital thought at dawn
I am a lotus, once grown in the dirty, filthy mud
A flower that resonates with the sun and the northern mountains filled with flood
I am a buffalo who is big, stubborn, dark-skinned, and slow
We live in Justice, it might not seem like it but we have power
Even those who rest in peace and sadly rest in Pride
Houston is in a crisis Orlando didn't deserve it
Blessed
God opened my eyes this morning rather it is sunny or clouds,
I am here to see another day and I am so grateful proud.
What Is Sex Really About?
Someone once asked me, what is sex really about?
Is it when a man climax and your name he utters out?
Is it the intimacy of the act between a woman and man?
I was born here, but I didn’t ask to be.My parents thought this place would be amazing. They saw a future of peace and love;Little did they know, it would turn out crazy.Where no one loves me, knows me, respects me;I wish this could be a dream, an
Dear rose,
A hero that carries us all—
Willing to caress us with a tender heart.
Your sweet embrace is what holds lost pieces together.
The Valley of the Rose.
On the Day of the Sun,
I heard Democracy talk about
Shapes and sizes,
Spite and spleen,
Color and cologne
Word and litter
Hair and lip.
Dear Reader,
here's a poem about home. i hope you enjoy.
Rushing cars, aging scars.
Honking horns and corner stores.
People to and fro, not even a single hello?
Text and call, bump and scowl.
You were a terrible friend. Words really cannot express how unpleasant it was to be friends with you.
Dear Life,
Why must you bore me?
Why must I fill myself with blasts of RGB from a screen just to have purpose?
Why can't you satisfy me?
Why must I let you make me such a mess?
The symbol of my country
Mean more than what I see
A pelican flag is a symbol
That is fierce and strong and free
Our flags that flies across the land
Waves red, white, and blue
Let the sky clear with southern winds To push the soil across my dusty home Please, please do not bury these
We the people the steeple of our country, that we hold so dear,
do salute and sing to this tune even though we do not hear
the pleas of the land and its ancestors,
the corruption we bring has been allowed to fester.
GOD is pretty great
Founding fathers agreed to
Trust a lot in Him
RACISM is bad
No one really thinks it's cool
Please let's stop it now
EQUAL are all men
Reading and writing,
They become a difficulty.
The public is lacking
Some type of literacy
Misreading the news,
Refusing to listen.
Cowboys love their trucks
and girls with long blond hair
In Daisy Dukes and boots
At the local county fair.
Cowboys love their trucks
America the Beautiful
With the open fields and high mountains
And the clouds dancing across the skyline
America the Strong
With a military protecting our citizens
And our citizens protecting our rights
Is America great?
I'd hope so
But this country might be just be hate
Have we reached a new low?
Is there a chance we might bounce back?
Or are we too late to pick up the slack?
The choice to succeed
The choice to fail
How do we choose?
We cry in laughter
We cry in pain
Which one are we after?
Our country, our home
But do we feel safe?
The struggles we face
"Does that star-spangled banner yet wave
/O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave?"
You stomp on the weaker ones
and ask why we can't get up.
America is considered to be one of the greats.
But how can it be great?
There are still people without food on their plates.
How can it be great?
There is still a high fear of the unknown rate.
A loose grip on a wheel
Used to guide a machine
A titan fist drives an upheaval
of frustration into a raveen
Cultural Pride is like picking sides
Its hard to get out of it
It will get around you
Back in the day there was a boy, hardly a man,
Struggling, going, and proving his worth
Hair askew, clothes poorly chosen, with a laborers’ tan
He used to find pity but now there’s a dearth
How far would someone have to push you
To make your soul leave your body
Only for you to live anew.
Everything you touch,
Everything you taste,
Taxes
Religion
Freedom
Slavery
War
Poverty
Problems.
America was once great.
But now, we are only a shadow of our forefathers.
We fight over insignifcant problems
Soup with only one ingredient,
salad with only lettuce.
Women, gays, blacks,
we can speak only if they let us.
Indivisible under God,
yet my country is rooted by evil.
America, land of the free, home of the brave
America, scars still fresh, from the war bestowed upon you
America, you are suffering, you are hurting
America, ruled by the corrupt, ruled not by the people
Our national anthem proudly sings,“O’er the land of the free,”
But as we look deeper to the colors of our flag,
It was never always red, white, and blue.
Waving on top of the world freedom dominates
Creating a path for people to operate
The flag flows in the sky
calling out to all to come on by
The walls are closing
and our foundation is breaking
Pledge your life to endless pride
We only want total control
Pray for our nation under our God
As we commit genocide
-
Submit to the conditional freedom
Or become our hated scapegoat
How can we be The land of the free And the home of the brave, When we are nothing more than a knave, an enclave, Digging our own grave? You can hear their cries, The millions of sobs very loud and clear, Those of a mother, mourning the death of
Oh America, thy love shall rain upon us.
thou wings must be fixed, to fly in peace.
heavy the metals are holding you, you shall be let free.
Thy people need to work as one, to achieve the max.
You know what you're doing
You know what you've done
Please here my plea
I can't possibly be the only one
Our country has lied
Our men have died
Yet we hear nothing
Except what they say
Hello,
I’m not a coon or a savage
And I don’t live in the projects or eat chicken and watermelons for breakfast, lunch and dinner.
No, I don’t live on the “block” and sell dope.
I used to think that my cowboy boots and pecan pie
Were all I needed to survive
As the summers were filled with the Fourth of July and state fairs
A supposed sense of freedom was in the air
Back in Ninety-Seven, back when I was born
America was far different; less hate and scorn
Back when schools taught old fashioned, and parents had respect;
I am from Cadiz,
from the ¨gator pond¨
next to my torn down trailer.
I am from dangerous bike rides,
dodging trees.
From climbing rock cliffs
and pulling off ticks.
Tell me we won’t forget our home,
Wherever we will go.
Maybe we will take the world by storm,
Or maybe the world will bring us down.
We will face the tremendous destiny of Europe,
America will slam us,
The Election.
My biggest fear.
I never thought my life would come to this,
Sent into this spiraling abyss,
With family and friends,
Neighbors and lovers,
Torn apart by the threat of others.
I wake up in the morning,
put my cowboy boots on,
and put some Conway Twitty on,
Hello Darlin'.
See my mom and my dad,
with pride in their eyes,
and love in their hearts,
Hello Darlin'.
When the day turns blue
I turn on the music
Garth Brooks echos off the walls,
"Some of God's greatest gifts are unanswered prayers"
With every note that lifts from the speakers
I dream that the country I live in will love me
Like I have loved it.
I am grateful
But how has my country,which I left everything behind for been grateful back
By fitting me into a group, calling me a rapist
A bullet costs less than a quarter
A life is cut shorter
A bullet is made of lead
A life is dead
A bullet is fast
A life's wound is vast
A bullet hits hard
Raise the flag up from half mast.But be prepared to lower it, this peace won't last.The flag may be hih for only one day morebefore we bring it down, our hearts so sore.
Nature’s vast wasteland surrounds her nest,
Causing her soul to become anxious for delight,
She must try to survive while being oppressed.
Her internal pain is never at rest,
You saw our picture, on Facebook. Wedding details and happ faces.
Yeah, I'm a lucky girl.
You had big dreams for him, falling in love.
You were two kids in the front yard, all insecurities and young.
I am America, and I am the greatest country on Earth
I take pride in my journey, destined for power since birth
Like a mosaic, I am made of many stones and pieces
Together as one, the American spirit never ceases
What do folks mean.
When they say;
I WANT MY COUNTRY BACK?
Was it ever gone?
Where did it go?
Can we make time.
Go back?
~ Ricardo
The rustic life, pastoral scenes, the basis of idyllic dreams the simple ways of nature come, its harmony in total sum. These country settings, warm and real,
Where am I from? You ask.
I am from the country
Yes the one down east
Yes the one along the equator,
And yes the one contemporarily smothered in ashes
And drained in blood
Soaked in blood
"So what are you?" A question too familiar
Years ago my mind would halt, frozen
My heart would pound. "I do not know"
I did not want to know.
"Are you Asian?" Your ignorance now shows
A place where people love to fsrm,
and guys love to work their southern charm.
country hicks like to go outdoors,
And do their gardening chores.
Boys and girls go fishin' with rods and reels,
the cracks in the walls of Istanbul purge
themselves of cowardice every full moon.
the apprehension seeps into the atmosphere
and into my skin, tanning it just the right shade of confusion.
A lone bird sings,
In the distance a bell rings.
On a big hill,
Stands an abandoned wind mill.
All is quiet through the day,
And at night, a wolf finds his prey.
What a beautiful sight,
Ain't given a chance
For romance
With education
Ain't worth living
Without giving
To this nation
That doesn't want
No talk
About immigration
Especially those without legality
You sure that man in the mirror is really me
Cause it aint the man I used to see
I've been pushin' that line for a long time
Deciding not to see, choosing to be blind
Driving on an old country road
Take me to natures mountain home
Tennessee old Country Roads
Well girl its been a whileSince I've seen that beautiful smileand I just can't go on like thisspending another night without your kiss
Driving these six wheels,
Strumming this six string.
Sitting on a back road,
Sipping that cold drink.
-
If you do it right,
We're gonna have a good time.
So crank up the music,
I wish I could hug you, look you in the eyes, tell you that everything will be okay; that I will take care of everything when you're gone. But I can't.
A sea of dead bodies
Lay on a blood-stained field.
The dead are nothing but a memory.
The last one standing is the winner.
The one who kills all the others-
He is called The Hero.
The sun is up it's the crack of dawn,
time to start the day.
The roosters crowing, the hens are laying,
through the mist of morn I see a baby fawn,
time to throw the hay.
City girl
With a country heart
Walks outside
To her back yard,
Looks up
And sees jet streaks
Left in the sky
At night.
Too fast.
Looking up
I ought to visit the woodlands; it is where I must return
Inhaling and long exhales, enjoying the wood smoke as it burns
The bright shining sun goes down, and we watch the rigid night fall enter
I'm a country boy
Growing up in the fields of the valley's heights
The stars bright shining over me
The sweet smell of the pasture in the morning
The fresh air and open land
Animals roam wild
The fire glows in the darkened
night, while the onlooker bows with his
mind deep in thought, sitting on a
broken, charred log. Memories
sear his mind like the crackling and popping
flames burning away the
I am the one the leaders should answer to,
I am the one that began a nation,
I am the one who fights, the one who dies,
I am the one you depend on.
I am the people!
You can take your cities
Your cars
Your bars
Your asphalt roads
And tall billboards,
And starless,
Smog-filled skies.
I’ll stick with my small town
My backwoods roads
Welcome to America!
Where the image of women being depicted in submission
Is easily found in magazines and search engines.
The mask put on comes off before the morning,
Retirement of the Flag
The flag represents the American Soldier
It flies in the wind as the soldier fights in battles
A broken soldier carries a tattered flag,
Its frayed stripes representing his spirit,
His boyish like charm stripped away,
His sanity as ripped and torn as his faded Glory,
Miles away from home a soldier lies,He cherishes many hello's, and despites goodbye's.He risks his life, he is willing to die,He does all of this to see that American Flag fly high.What most people do not understand,
How could you fight the unknown with no remorse?
When they are simply… the unknown?
Like in wars, or battles
How could you go about, scream and shout, over people you have never seen?
Land of the freeLand of the apatheticLand of the dreamersLand of the broken
Home of the braveHome of the hopefulHome of the better tomorrowHome of the bitter
The country road is a dusty strip of asphalt extending farther than the eye can see
The edges are frayed, crumbling
Cracks pepper the road, a few randomly tarred over
Little to see in any direction
keep running.
The fluffy, green grass,
Of the Midwest’s rich soil,
Pads my barefoot feet.
Deer, rabbits, and birds,
In hilly corn and bean fields,
Fill the open space.
Sometimes,
As I watch the clouds drift by
In these simple Oklahoma skies
I think of how we first met.
For country and glory,
It's the same old story.
Fighting for a just cause.
Into the trench,
Shooting British and French.
Artillery serves as applause.
