Firoze-on Ice
An East Indian voice was muted
For a private war against racism
His explicit zeal cannot be refuted
A poet driven to schizophrenism
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
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Related quotes
Racism and the Culture Of Racism
We must be aware…..,
Of the Culture Of Racism….,
It’s a slur and a swear….,
The Culture Of Racism….! ! !
Can’t turn your back….,
On the Culture Of Racism….,
Or you’ll feel the whack…,
Of the Culture Of Racism….! ! !
It’s hard to believe….
The Culture Of Racism….,
That’s why we all grieve….,
The Culture Of Racism…! ! !
We must face the facts….,
On the Culture Of Racism ….! ! !
Cause we’ve seen the attacks…..,
Of the Culture Of Racism….,
It follows us all…,
The Culture Of Racism….,
But we must stand tall….,
Against the Culture Of Racism….! ! !
Can we control or stop it….,
As long as it’s been livin’….? ? ?
That’s the priceless question….,
On the Culture Of Racism…! ! !
poem by Trade Martin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The East India Company's domination of the Indian economy was based on its private army.
quote by Robert Trout
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The racism
The racism erases
the beautiful memories
and it believes
in the perfect
world
The racism is
a too big
and horrible problem
It is a
wrong and impure
mistake
The racism is
a bad and
public thought
The racism is
played by the
poors of reasons
The racism doesn't
live in the
jungle but it
lives in the
modern society
I'm against the
racism
The racists are
cursed because they
are false
For me the
racism resides in
the hate
For the innocents
the racism is
lost war
For me the
racism doesn't exist
in a citizen
world
For me the
racism is a
terrible suffering
It can't stand
the harmony and
the heart of
a bay
It survives in
the evident darkness
The racism hates
the comfortable and
hospitable villa
The racism serves
the big Evil
It doesn't use
the magic
It wants to
destroy the balance
between the people
For the angels
the racism is
a shame and
a bright lie
poem by Laura arwen
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The Servitude Of Words
Muted words linger in limbo
imprisoned between many leaves
bound together in the darkness
of a poet's tried thesaurus.
Their alphabetic existence
is but an endless servitude
whose individual meanings
chosen and together sequenced
for the glory of the poet.
The many verses read aloud
gives each utile word a voice
and continues till completion.
Then darkness returns once again
as the reference book is closed.
poem by Albert Ahearn
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Pinky, Pinky, what race?
Pinky, Pinky what colour….
We used to play as a child.
As a teen we learnt abt different colours
As an adult we came to know about race
We don’t play pinky pinky, what race? now a days! !
We accepted racism,
We were not surprised,
b’coz by then we were adult,
Started accepting things as it is,
We lost the habit of questioning everything as a child it seems!
In VIBGYOR tell me which colour is predominant, Is it white?
In rainbow which color has got high percentage, Is it white?
How can one discriminate among equals,
We talk abt racism, as an Indian we don’t follow it?
We hunt for white brides for our grooms, I may ask why?
The “foreigner look” still strikes in our mind,
We have built an attitude of inferiority among ourselves,
Chuck out that, come in light.
Don’t be under false notion of black and white.
Ignorance can be overlooked,
But racism under cover must come to book.
We tolerate that’s our guilt,
Stop it and instead shout for it!
(Related with recent attacks on Indian students in Australia)
poem by Tara Chettur
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Private Eye
Ive got a private eye to see if youve a mother
Ive got a private eye to find out where you go
Ive got a private eye to see if youve a lover
Ive got a private eye to tell me what you know
You really should tread much more careful
Or youre going to get a stareful from my private eye
Ive got a private eye to search the seas and skies
Ive got a private eye to follow you around
Ive got a private eye to tear off your disguise
Ive got a private eye to make you look just like a clown
You really should...
Ive got a private eye to see if youve a mother...
It nearly stopped my heart from beating
When I found out you were meeting my private eye
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Private Eye
Ive got a private eye to see if youve a mother
Ive got a private eye to find out where you go
Ive got a private eye to see if youve a lover
Ive got a private eye to tell me what you know
You really should tread much more careful
Or youre going to get a stareful from my private eye
Ive got a private eye to search the seas and skies
Ive got a private eye to follow you around
Ive got a private eye to tear off your disguise
Ive got a private eye to make you look just like a clown
You really should...
Ive got a private eye to see if youve a mother...
It nearly stopped my heart from beating
When I found out you were meeting my private eye
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Before a Poetry Reading
'Poet! Poet! Poet! Poet! '
I'm feeling nervous but I mustn't show it!
'Poet! Poet! Poet! Poet! '
I hope to heaven that I won't blow it!
'Poet! Poet! Poet! Poet! '
I mustn't reveal that I'm a second-rate poet!
I'm only a rhymer, but they don't know it!
If you've got no talent you'll have to grow it!
'Poet! Poet! Poet! Poet! '
poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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First there was racism. Then liberals created institutional racism and coded racism. You can only hear it with a dog whistle.
quote by Evan Sayet
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Everybody's scared for their ass. There aren't too many people ready to die for racism. They'll kill for racism but they won't die for racism.
quote by Florynce R. Kennedy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Private Life
This is my private life
I have no friends to fear
Ive got no problems no cross to bear
If you can find me
Come and get me out of here
Chorus
This is my private life
This is my private life
This is my private life . . .
These are my private things
There they are against the wall
The dirty pictures, religious objects
These are my private things
Come and get them out of here
This is my private bed
This is where I lie at night
Staring at a light bulb hanging on the ceiling
Waiting for a dream to
Come and get me out of here
Bridge
Here in my humble room at night
I often wonder what goes on out there
What makes them runs o scared
I often stare at the people passing by
But they cant see me thru my window shades
Just like Im not even there
Chorus
This is my private life
This is my private life
This is my private life
Theres something dangerous I like
This is my private life
I know my problems arent your fault
What I really want to know
Has it always been this way
This is my private life
This is my private life
This is my private life
Come and get me out of here
song performed by by Oingo Boingo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In many ways, I think that, while we've been remarkably violent in our media, there's been a real schizophrenia. In private, on the Internet, and on public-affairs shows or talk radio, we're way more explicit than we've ever been.
quote by Ivan Reitman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Poet”s Credo
A poet’s heart n’ soul must speak
In spite of any shaming or critique
A poet must always to self be true
As God conducts his exit interview
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
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The Poet I Am', And 'The Poet I Am Not
The poet I am, and the poet I am not
‘The poet I am’ says
To ‘the poet I am not’,
‘Why can’t I be more like you? ’
And ‘the poet I am not’ says
‘Because you are not good enough’
And ‘the poet I am’ begins to cry,
And ‘the poet I am not’ says
‘Real poets cry for more meaningful things’
And ‘the poet I am’ says ‘I am who I am and what I will be means so much to me. But still I am not the poet I wanted to be’.
And ‘the poet I am not’ says
‘Exactly. Were you less concerned with who you are and more concerned with others you might be a bit more of a poet than you are now.’
And ‘the poet I am’ is silent.
And ‘the poet I am not’is somewhere else being someone else
That ‘the poet I am and the poet I am not’ cannot see or dream.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Ten Little Indians
Ten little indian boys
The first little indian gave squaw pretty feather
(little indian boy)
The second little indian made her an indian dollar
(fighting over a squaw)
Well the third little indian gave her moccasin leather
(little indian boy)
The squaw didnt like em at all
The fourth little indian took her riding in his big canoe
(little indian boy)
The fifth little indian took her down the waterfall
(fighting over a squaw)
The sixth little indian taught the squaw how to woo-woo
(little indian boy)
But the squaw didnt like em at all
One little, two little, three little indians
(keep us humming were the ten little indians)
Four little, five little, six little indians
(keep us humming were the ten little indians)
Seven little, eight little, nine little indians
(keep us humming were the ten little indians)
Ten little indian boys
The seventh little indian took her over to his teepee
(little indian boy)
The eighth little indian tried to give her a love poem
(fighting over a squaw)
The ninth little indian said youre my kemosabe
(little indian boy)
The squaw didnt like em at all
The tenth little indian said it really didnt matter
(little indian boy)
He acted like himself and he didnt look at her
(fighting over a squaw)
The squaw didnt care if he never did a thing
(little indian boy)
Cause she loved the tenth indian boy
Loved the tenth indian boy
Loved the tenth indian boy
Loved the tenth indian boy
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Indian Gin And Whisky Dry
All day, all night you feel as if the earth could fly.
Three more all for fine Indian Gin and whiskey dry,
Fine Indian Gin and whiskey dry.
Small town , closed down; There's nowhere else around to try.
Disturbingly a voice would cry,
"Go home, no loan, You'll have you gin and whiskey dry,
You'll have your gin and whiskey dry".
Four ten, four men lining up for their handy brandy.
All's gone, you're none, came the bartender's reply.
But I've tried and I'm tied to Indian Gin and whiskey dry.
To Indian Gin and whiskey dry (repeat 4 times
song performed by by Bee Gees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Indian Summer
The voices hanging in the air
The fingers running through my hair
You whisper in my ear, words Im afraid to hear
Youre sleeping on the wings of doves
Of melting in the heat of love
A voice that disappears, into the air
You said you found me, and never let me go, and until you do
No arms around me, to pull me away, away from you
Indian summer, I remember you
Indian summer, do you think of me too?
Like a moth to a flame, youre drawn to me with tender chains
You wrap me up so tight, and hold me all the night
Whos the stranger come and gone, statues crying in the lawn
The fountains frozen tears, bring back those years
Did you think you loved me, and do you want me now like you did back then
No moon above me, could make me feel this way, feel this way again
Indian summer, I remember you
Indian summer, do you think of me too?
Where do the seasons go when you let them slip away
Now the winds have changed from hot to cold today
Indian summer, indian summer, I remember you, where are you now
Ohhh, indian summer, I remember you
Indian summer, do you think of me, do you think of me too
Cause I remember you, indian summer
song performed by by Sheryl Crow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Be-mused
She's a wee voice residing in my soul
Relentlessly she'll wheedle, beg, cajole
Forcing me to write, 'tho I'd rather play
Alas; to her I'm but a lump of clay
ROTMS
View images, video and poems at:
rotms.blogspot.com
poem by Ray Lucero
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Evolutionary Poet
Forgive this poet, to suppose
Poetry to be more than prose
Think me not romantic fool
Nor subject of thy ridicule
I seek transition, mind to heart
The place where truth resides
There’s much wisdom to impart
From ones soul 'n inner guides
Social conscience good poet be
A voice, within vast sea of voices
Impassioned words with cogency
Words diverse, as man’s choices
Great change implores poets unite
Too bravely flame of truth ignite
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
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Neglectful Edward
Nancy
'Edward back from the Indian Sea,
What have you brought for Nancy?'
Edward
'A rope of pearls and a gold earring,
And a bird of the East that will not sing.
A carven tooth, a box with a key--'
Nancy
'God be praised you are back,' says she,
'Have you nothing more for your Nancy?'
Edward
'Long as I sailed the Indian Sea
I gathered all for your fancy:
Toys and silk and jewels I bring,
And a bird of the East that will not sing:
What more can you want, dear girl, from me?'
Nancy
'God be praised you are back,' said she,
'Have you nothing better for Nancy?'
Edward
'Safe and home from the Indian Sea,
And nothing to take your fancy?'
Nancy
'You can keep your pearls and your gold earring,
And your bird of the East that will not sing,
But, Ned, have you nothing more for me
Than heathenish gew-gaw toys?' says she,
'Have you nothing better for Nancy?'
poem by Robert Graves
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