bigotry poems

Madam Justice | John Robert Bland - Contemporary Poetry Website Featuring Notable Poems

Madam Justice | John Robert Bland

Madam Justice Ginsburg
allow us to carry your torch
of absolute outrage at the prospect
of the weak flocking behind Trump
as the next President

Such a catastrophe
that the whole world can do without
Cultivating hatred as a means
to promote racism no doubt

Like Hitler using followers
to exterminate millions not so long ago
Have we learned anything
as we watch similarities we should know

I hear those desperate for privilege
over those who don’t look like them
They figure Trump will deliver the goods
given the rooted hatred in him

We will gladly carry the torch
Madam Justice Ginsburg has made her case
and now we decent people need to step up
to prevent this inhumane disgrace

More at https://www.facebook.com/JohnRobertBland/.

I Am Who I Am | Eshwardai Ramsaywack - Contemporary Poetry Website Featuring Notable Poems

I Am Who I Am | Eshwardai Ramsaywack

I can feel their eyes piercing through my skin, their judgments
stripping me of my dignity. My soul is pure, yet they say I’m the Devil’s child because of who I am.

Struggling each day to keep myself locked inside, putting on a different persona everyone can like, pretending to be someone I’m not, someone society wants me to be. Afraid of rejection, I hide like prey does from its killer.

Craving acceptance. Stifling my conscience.
Its time for a change.
I am who I am
and the only thing you can do is accept me as the human being I am.
Because, at the end of the day I’m just like you, our blood has one color.

I am not less than others but as equal as all. For equality is freedom and the world is my oyster.
I am who I am
And shall live each day as myself.
I am who I am.

The End of Sexism | Matt Alexander - Contemporary Poetry Website Featuring Notable Poems

The End of Sexism | Matt Alexander

Oscillating randomly around any true signal
Buzzes all kinds of noise

White, Pink, Brown, Black, Shot, Poisson, Normal, Phase, Transient
Temporary flares awaiting mean reversion

So to equate an unrepresentative spike
With a bona fide increase

And dub an anecdote
The new status quo

Is the mistake of an amateur
Fool or fraud with ulterior motives

Like when after the election of our first black president
Some claimed that racism had come to an end

“We have reached the top!
Now let us dispense with this pesky climbing gear.”

Only to have it roar back — broad swaths of people
Discounted wholesale

For their language’s
Word for God

Skin color
Or parent’s birthplace

— in its ugliest form
With a fool’s gold face of Orange noise

So now that we have a woman similarly poised
Brace yourselves

For similarly false grand claims: “Full Gender Equality
Achieved!”
Followed by

(Even more) misogyny
Hysterical, shrill, and overly emotional itself

And yet one hopes against hope
These victories are not outliers but indeed indicative —

Hope: echoes of that word reverberate manifold from bygone cycles
Transmogrifying the ‘o’ to an ‘a’ and the ‘p’ to a ‘t’
these melancholy days —

Of real progress, though the ever-increasing standard deviation makes
conclusions
All but impossible to reach

More at https://twitter.com/thenamesmatta.

A Mother’s Dream | Shawn Aveningo - Contemporary Poetry Website Featuring Notable Poems

A Mother’s Dream | Shawn Aveningo

I remember it like it was yesterday,
bringing my two identical bundles
home from the hospital. It was Spring, in Atlanta.
I remember rocking them each night
into the wee hours of the morning
blanketing them in as much joy,
pride a mother could possibly secrete,
attempting to feed them a lifetime of confidence
so that when the day came for them to fly,
they would soar, knowing they are always loved.

Every time a mother gives birth,
she gives birth to two dreams:
the dream that evolves within the soul of that child,
to be a firefighter, a dancer or a teacher.
And the dream that never changes,
the one that’s formed with the first fetal flutter,
cemented with the sound of her baby’s first cry,
that dream for her child to be healthy,
happy, loved.

So you see, I have a dream.
I have a dream that every child grows up
in a world, in a country, in a state,
secure that she is free to love
whomever she chooses.
I have a dream where “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell”
simply becomes, “It Don’t Matter”.
What matters is what’s in your heart,
not what’s written or interpreted
to be true in a book.
What matters is the commitment,
the affection, the devotion,
between two beings,
no matter in what skin color, body shape,
or gender they reside.
What matters is love… period.

You see, it’s time I finally took a stand,
speak up to make you understand
because my daughters deserve
to walk hand in hand
with the one they love
just as my son walks today
in our supposed land
of the free.

You see, he has that privilege without contest or debate,
without the interference of homegrown hate
or those so ignorant they think they can pray the slate
clean of DNA, the very genes that seal our fate,
signal to our hearts who we want to date,
as we meander through this jungle for our one true love.

I mean, isn’t that what we all want in the first place?
Surely, love means more than just the ability to procreate.

I think it’s high time we unite,
we unite in this battle, this fight
the next chapter in pursuit of equal rights,
for all our children.

Because my children
and your children
deserve to live the dream,
to be healthy, to be happy
and above all
loved.

More at http://redshoepoet.com.

In the Bathroom Mirror | Shelly Blankman - Contemporary Poetry Website Featuring Notable Poems

In the Bathroom Mirror | Shelly Blankman

She traces her lips with
the precision of Picasso,

strokes her silky brown
hair, carefully tucking stray
strands behind her ears,

smoothes her new pink
dress and matching heels
that hurt like hell.

She pretends not to notice
the giggles and gasps.
she’s heard them before.

She’s seen mothers hurry
their little girls to flush
and wash; they must
escape the danger in a
dress lurking in the mirror.

The bathroom door shuts
slowly behind her, laughter
leaks into the aisles and replays
the acoustical nightmare of
playground taunts and pranks
that seem to have no end.

Her mirror reflected the person
she was born to be, her truth,

they don’t know danger doesn’t lurk
in a pink dress with matching shoes.

Danger lurks in the broken
brains of average men
who feed on fragile egos
of little girls in pretty dresses.

Season’s Greetings | Stan Morrison - Contemporary Poetry Website Featuring Notable Poems

Season’s Greetings | Stan Morrison

Protocols of the Elders of Zion
Fabricated in Mother Russia
Anti-semitism sent worldwide
Jew bankers hoarding capital
And planning global domination

No Jews with money found
In New York’s Lower Eastside
Or in all the urban ghettos
Michael Gold set us straight
Poor folks plotting survival

Henry Ford et al signed up
A threat to Model T riches
International conferences
Protocols of scapegoating
Aimed at settling the score

The Cast |  Roy Pullam - Contemporary Poetry Website Featuring Notable Poems

The Cast | Roy Pullam

He hocked up hate
And spit it
In the direction
Of the two gay men
Pressing his point
With the authority
Of the Bible
Promised damnation
The cold lesson
Of Leviticus
Old testament righteousness
That made them less
That gave him authority
To lend judgment
To play God
And I
Was not so prepared
To be as divine

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