Poetry for Change
Couldn’t type! Besides with writing it out, I can edit when it’s complete! All those victims of abuse of Indigenous genres: raise your voices together! Only then will they make any change happen!
Mom, mother, teacher, friend,
Marvelous in her love to spend
Making everything her kids loved.
Overly concerned with the successes
Of those that are hers,
Often, she sacrifices all at her expenses.
The fear she feels evaporates
Then, turns to a laugh at their cackles,
Yet, twists into tears at their hurts.
Her love is tender, at times harsh,
Her knowing it’s better we hear her lash
Her anger, rather than an outsider becoming brash.
Entirely too much depends on her love,
Every day that passes without it is a dark cave
Encompassing our fright in the depth of cognizance.
Radiate, roving remembrance really
Revolving around her compassionately
Rightful heart, whose endless in its empathy.
Beauty of books leave nothing to imagerY
Only creating worlds in academiA
Overflowing with all that can be imagineD:
Kings, queens, courtiers, all in a booK.
Devils and monsters dancing in affetuosO
Anger and depression dumped in aerophotO
Yet, we vent them in books that only boB.
I can’t believe some people don’t enjoy writing anymore. Don’t forget all the abbreviations!!!
Poet, poem, poetry
Organize the images in the writer,
Every word is a symbol that will let
The poet achieve the portrait that will be
Remembered in all its glory of their bravado
Yearning to be heard with great pomp.
(Double acrostic poem)
March is the cruelest month,
It teeters between ice and fall in cloth.
A wintry storm blows snow all day long,
The next, the sun peaks its head warm with a song.
The chirps, tweets, and warbles of the floks
Stuns with its humming personality that blocks
The rising warmth from becoming too hot.
The northern cardinal brightens our shores
All year long, while Blue Jay may scores
His flight onto our lands for a while and snores.
Enjoy the beauty of the cruelest month,
It’s variety, vascillatory nature, and the birth
Of life that it entails is vital to be conserved.
Mother, daughter, sister, wife, friend,
All are one and the same in muslim women.
We hear what we need,
We mishear what we deem reprehensible!
We learn early the need for compromise, understanding,
And flexibility which are requirements of survival
In a world where the ‘I’ is more important than fighting
For togetherness, unity, and equality. Rather,
It’s replaced by the needs of the individual!
They surpass and prevail over the duties of the whole,
Whether that be the couple, nuclear and extended
Family which help fortify and solidify the need,
More, the essential requirements of values, ethics, and religiously
Equitable interactions that eliminate racism and all that’s dicrimatory.
We have to seem ‘perfect’ in both appearance and morality.
We have to be learned, open minded, not fearfully
Aware that we can be imperfect, human, and loving.
Not being the epitome of everything only highlights your humanity.
Winter’s darkened clouds
Hover, lost in starless skies,
As leaden, pewter, ebony ravens
Coalesce in a wonder of worlds.
As the nights are long,
Your thoughts are flung
Into dusky abysses of dung.
As the sleepless nights dance
Into your nightmarish dreams and glance
At the blackish sea where they take a stance;
The sleepless nights fizzle
Making insomnia a rare puzzle
For those trying to live life without a muzzle,
Straining to contain life’s wuzzel.
The month of love and adoration
Is the shortest one of all!
Not all happiness can be packed into its summation,
Short, though it is, it’s effects are a ball!
In its center, couples celebrate their love,
As if, you only praise your unity then!
And every other day falls short of its possessive
Hold on your cheery life filled only with a pen.
The one you use to organize your life,
Strategize your next goal, perfect compassion
That leads to compromise and less strife,
While dissent and enmity to envy’s fashion.
Duty and love are two sides of a coin,
Where duty can choke the life out of veneration
As it stomps out the cheer from your conjoin.
Happy Holidays everyone!
Poetry for Change 