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Rodney Vol LindseyOffline

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      redzone wrote a new post

      A Poem, Short, But Way Too Long

      A Poem -Short, But Way Too Long 1.Miss sippi,back woodspine filledcountry.Pineyville,home of Leroy Boyd James,lynched1959.Pineyville,in the deep Southwhere black bones layon river bottomscause the currentdidn’t carry them away;or lay in unmarked graves.Disappearedunder soggy,red soil,under pine needlesweighed downby horrors unnamedand people...

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      • Outstandingly and brilliantly written my friend, You brought justice to them… and that last verse! smart very very smart and says it all. It really surprises me how some people thinking is till this day extremist and racist, but truth from where I am and what I’ve seen in the past years, nothing surprising me anymore. I admire your poem and admire You for writing it.

      • Okay, I have to say, this brought tears to my eyes. Such imagery should never exist but also never forgotten. I believe you did Nina justice here

      • Light, Willow, and Mary, thank you so much for your visit and for your comments on this poem. One of the reasons I became a revolutionary was because of digging deeper into the oppression of Black people. At first, it was more based on a religious basis, but after reading books like Griffin’s, “Black Like Me”; Baldwin’s, “The Fire Next Time”; and “The Autobiography of Malcolm X”, I began to realize it has deeper roots in a whole system, the rise of capitalism and its colonial conquests and genocide and slavery. This led me to Marx and Lenin and Mao, and now Bob Avakian. We do not have to live this way, and we are capable of ending all oppression. This is the reason for those last 2 lines.

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      Neville wrote a new post

      So Very Perfectly Flawed

      So Very Perfectly Flawed You may never know how often I opened your page and looked down on you like that posing naked    from the waist down .. Was he really so damn good, or just another trick     you turned to spite me .. I remember that shirt tho’...

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      • Whoa, Neville!! They say revenge is a dish best served cold. Well, this poem is cold, very cold indeed. It drips with the “sting” you felt and perhaps still feel? Betrayal is a dish with rotted food, and served with a smile. But to have it shoved in your face takes betrayal to another level. While I liked your poem, I have to leave the room cause it’s just too damn cold in here. After this, Neville I think you might want to put that pen in the oven, warm it up a little. And whatever you do, do not eat that food!!!

        Curt

        • Thanks Curt .. I’m glad you were able to feel it my way .. Advice heeded just as I found my appetite again .. All Good Things to you & yours good sir .. Neville 😎👍

      • Powerfully penned, Neville. Your words sting in this one my friend. Outstanding write with excellent detail per usual. Appreciate you.

        Damian

      • Wow, fantastic write. I was drawn in by the wonderful, descriptive phrasing…the combination of love and disappointment. No need to see the photo..,I already see it. Well done.

      • Superb work. Powerful imagery.

      • Thanks Thomas 😎👍

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      Neville wrote a new post

      Enlightenment

      Enlightenment There were no pockets in those saffron robes, no lies or dramas    hide behind those unhurried furrowed brows .. Cross legged and almost directly opposite me, he sat for two thousand five hundred miles in    third class, all the way from Bangkok to...

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      • Brilliant imagery. You bring this to life.

      • You are not the only one who got enlightened like this, and the truth it’s not that we are not smart, or can be easily deceived, in fact we are more intelligent than this, it’s just that we don’t think in their ways, or/and that our hearts doesn’t feel like theirs, but we learn don’t we? These incidents teach us that life is not like us or our hearts, how we think or feel, there is goodness and there is badness.

        • How extraordinarily write You always seem to me, to be .. Bless You dear Light💕 You make my grey days seem golden 😎🌻💛👍

          • Blush*☺️ at least I hope I got what You wanted us to get. May only golden and colorful rays bless your days 🌄🙏🏻✨💫🌈💕

      • Brilliantly penned, Neville. Sharp and precise imagery my friend, once again you know how to tell a story. Appreciate you.

        Damian

      • Thanks a bundle Damian .. That’ll do nicely sir .. very nicely indeed .. Neville 😎👍

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      redzone wrote a new post

      Becoming Conscious After Eating A Yellow Moon

      BECOMING CONSCIOUS AFTER EATING A YELLOW MOONyesterday I ate a yellow moonas it rode low, and slowlyencountered a twilight sky.it tasted like vanilla crunch.but you know, eating the moongives you a headache,like the kind you get if your facewas...

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      • hello dearest Curt I handle trauma in a similar way I disassociate and I go crazy wrapped in a world I formed great write ❤️dark expression but I get it…

        • Thank you Crimsin, for your comment and for your visit on this poem. Yes, it is a “dark expression”; there is no “light” in the pain of this abuse nor in the aftereffects. It is a poem I had to write, to tell the story of some poetry friends and how they were “working on healing”. Thankfully, they all really liked the poem. And one friend sent me a small box of chocolates with a heart drawn on the box lid. While I love chocolates, these were her favorite types, caramel and cream filled. Unfortunately, we lost touch, which I understand is often the case after revealing such pain. But the last I heard, she found someone, got married, and had a girl baby (she must be about 10 now).

          Crimsin, it is hard to overcome such pain, I hope you are doing well in handling the trauma you face/faced. Thank you again for your words and visit.

      • I don’t like to speak with my own tongue when the piece is personal like this, very personal… a personal experience (even if it’s not but the writer is). abuse comes in different shapes and types, in my opinion mental abuse can be the worst of all, many times it’s very later when You realize You haven’t come over it while You thought You did. Guilt, shame, low self-esteem and low self-respect… all stuck within the inner child and might be manifested into unexpected things as adults. to overcome pain, hate, guilt… is NOT easy to do in this 3D world, yet some experiences are unreasonablely unfair, even when there is learning or where there is karma.

        Unfortunately, it’s the world and humans who have changed into the worst, leaving profound devastation in the people and environment around. You already know this but You must hear it from others out loud and clear. It’s not your fault, never was and never will. No child should be blamed for anything specially in such situations and circumstances, not their thoughts, nor their actions… their bodies, minds and hearts have turn own the defense mechanism to protect their own selves, all what You seeked and loved is the image of the Father You, and any other child would wish him to be, and from my own perspective, You had/have such a pure heart and wise mind to love/loved him still, You could feel beyond the vail and that’s remarkable.

        I swear there is a tear in my heart wanting to be released as I read this… the only image I have is a little confused Boy writing all of this.

        • Back in the late 90’s and early 2000s, when the internet was not as ugly and more accepting, real friendships were made. In a long gone poetry page I met 3 young women and a young man who told me of their abuse and how they were dealing with it, mostly through writing (poetry). We exchanged poems and even talked on the phone or through chat rooms (ICQ). I wrote this poem about the young man because boys/men’s experiences are not as well known, or talked about. I found out that he committed suicide about a year later. The really sad part is that 3 days before this he and I were talking and he told me he was doing really good, had just started a new job, and even thought about dating (he had met a girl at his work).

          So, yes, this is a very personal poem for me. But it is not my personal experience. I have never been abused. Just the opposite, I was given a lot of freedom to explore and discover what I wanted to do and become. While my relationship with my dad was turbulent at times, I was a free spirit, while he was an ex-Marine; there was no abuse. And later in life, he and I became more open and shared a lot. He took my kids fishing and played Santa Claus to them. So, the personal experience is in my knowing them and the need to write. I think it is a true statement to say, it’s their story, I just held the pen.

          Thank you so much for your comment. The difficulty and mental anguish you mention is so true. I spoke because in some ways, they could not. At least not as direct as this poem. Thanks again Light.

          • It’s not your personal experience but believe me You did a great job here, You obviously have an emphatic heart.

            I’m so sorry for your loss, it’s common that they will tell You they are doing good while they are not, even when life seems to change for theirs to the better but their inner world is not, they held and endured so much… and it can’t be erased in one day. I think woman are more capable of healing because of their physiological nature, yet for both it’s the ego that must dies or at least be silent, You see many of them don’t/won’t speak about their experience even to the close ones because they might fear that people will misjudge or think they are weak. Anyway, analysing doesn’t matter, explaining doesn’t matter. after all they are beautiful humans who walk the same life as ours each with their experiences, beautiful souls who came from the same place we came too.

            Thank You for putting a voice to their pains, may your days be only peaceful and joyous as it should be 🕊️🤍

      • One of the most compassionate and giving men I ever had the honor of knowing had a horrific background that would break hearts. He’s no longer with us, but I believe he would have been deeply moved by this piece. When we’re so fractured, it’s difficult to believe anyone sees anything but the scars. Thank you for putting such a strong voice to abuse. It’s real, even when those who are made uncomfortable by knowing or hearing about it turn blind eyes…or perhaps because they do so.

        • I am so sorry that your friend has passed, Willow. This kind of compassion and giving is rare in our society these days. I am happy that you had such a wonderful friend.

          It’s easy to see the scars, but difficult to see and hear the person carrying those scars. It took me awhile to fully understand this. I think part of our “nature” as a human being is that we have an instinct for compassion, for caring about others, but it is forced out of our consciousness by the society we live in and under. Besides this is the guilt, the internal feeling that what happened is our own fault.

          Willow, I really appreciate that you read this poem and added your words. It means a lot. Thank you.

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