Her Place In Society
Mother borrowed the hands of artisans to cook his meals,
whether porcelain or Tupperware, eve or morn, thanked or scorned And after my vocal chords inquired, they sat still because the answer was simply “Tradition in our country. Culture. A woman’s role.” So I ponder the axioms that found a home in her mind and find myself wanting to dismantle them, To burn them to cinders and let the ashes fly freely in a world that Gloria Steinem envisioned: A time when a woman can stand on the mountains that patriarchs climbed and no longer be looked down upon Preach to the praying mantis that females are inferior, Tell the spotted hyena that daughters are not to be feared and you’d be as fallacious as the promise of American privacy Now I know I’m a man and could never walk an inch in women’s shoes, forget a mile But still I will use the decibels in my voice to crack their glass cages I’ll still do what I can to shrink the gap in wages As I turn the internet’s pages and adore feminist sages Because they speak the truths that power hungry men can’t digest Because if equality isn’t what we seek then how can we call ourselves: Humble, United, Magnanimous, Achievers, Noble, How can we call ourselves Human? -Richard Renelique |
The Anatomy Of Connection
All of us, every single being from the soles of our feet to the faces that eyes so frequently meet,
Are bound Bound like the coils of barbed wire or cursive letters, we flow Identities and emotions drifting through a nameless ocean We are misguided angels looking for sin-cleansing potions Instead of wings we wear clusters of labels- black, white, strange, insane, loner and millions of other misnomers So shed the hate Feathers are tantamount to dead skin anyway, right? But like I said, we can be misguided angels Some of us with halos that hovered down and became chains After all no spirit is fully cleansed, no path of gravel is without cracks, the only change that occurs is how you place your toes and how many steps bring you from dark alleys into Nirvana Please come as you are with your fellow human There’s no need for a disguise but society will argue otherwise It’s taught us to erase our sense of community and just as John Dewey theorized The language we now speak is one of individuality It sometimes saddens me, it’s tear-inducing but I want to be fear-reducing… Can my love be the antiseptic to your wounds, Can it be the crutches that let you walk with pride, Can your love cradle the other fallen angels and keep each other from descending? Despite the hands of time falling like perpetual rain Unstoppable and never ending. -Richard Renelique |
Generations
Though we’ve evolved past slavery,
the traditions of torture remain intact and unjustified.
The master’s belt on the colored generation
in an attempt to educate self created ignorance
is wielded by our own. Relentless cruelty
bestowed on the unfortunate youth, molds a
culture wrapped in wrong.
Passed down from our masters is the one
link we share—religion. Our god is
one and the same seeing equally, not
the pigment of our skin, our deeds not our dialects.
Both Black and White deserving persecution
for all the wrongs we have
committed. For we
believe in this omniscient being and act
as if we fear him, yet we do not
heed the scripture. We do
not see that our universal master is angry
at our lack of compromise. And so the hate
and foolishness continue to simmer.
We do not know better. Letting
the pale crocodiles desecrate our basic human rights.
Replace what’s fair with liberties
an untrustworthy government has
“blessed” us with.
Though we fight for the same victory we are segregated.
Segregated in our attempts for glory, put down for trying
to dip our unclean hands into success.
So violence relinquishes the era of hording the black people.
Keeping a fellow citizen, neglecting him the
potential equality that would paint us all the same. And so
continues the era of a dark man’s abuse.
-Jasmine Walker
the traditions of torture remain intact and unjustified.
The master’s belt on the colored generation
in an attempt to educate self created ignorance
is wielded by our own. Relentless cruelty
bestowed on the unfortunate youth, molds a
culture wrapped in wrong.
Passed down from our masters is the one
link we share—religion. Our god is
one and the same seeing equally, not
the pigment of our skin, our deeds not our dialects.
Both Black and White deserving persecution
for all the wrongs we have
committed. For we
believe in this omniscient being and act
as if we fear him, yet we do not
heed the scripture. We do
not see that our universal master is angry
at our lack of compromise. And so the hate
and foolishness continue to simmer.
We do not know better. Letting
the pale crocodiles desecrate our basic human rights.
Replace what’s fair with liberties
an untrustworthy government has
“blessed” us with.
Though we fight for the same victory we are segregated.
Segregated in our attempts for glory, put down for trying
to dip our unclean hands into success.
So violence relinquishes the era of hording the black people.
Keeping a fellow citizen, neglecting him the
potential equality that would paint us all the same. And so
continues the era of a dark man’s abuse.
-Jasmine Walker
His And Hers
His eyes are like circles and her eyes are shaped like the moon
His skin looks like chocolate and her skin is the color of a Wendy’s spoon
His hair is long and twisty and her hair is short and nifty
His people fought for freedom, hers escaped persecution
But their hearts are exactly the same, full of Love within.
-Angelina Lilly
His skin looks like chocolate and her skin is the color of a Wendy’s spoon
His hair is long and twisty and her hair is short and nifty
His people fought for freedom, hers escaped persecution
But their hearts are exactly the same, full of Love within.
-Angelina Lilly