POEM" “Stereotypes”

Stereotypes...

My nerves

get shivers

at the sight of a crowed.

As the cloud

it weighs heavy

leaving me rigid, unsteady

and sometimes anxious.

It can be tedious.

I've had high days

and low moments.

The cheers

and the jeers

accompanied by boos

And wows.

Not forgetting the standing ovations.

So listen and applaud

and laud.

This is a presentation.

“The single story creates stereotypes,

and the problem with stereotypes

is not that they are untrue,

but that they are incomplete.

They make one story

become the only story.”

That all whites are racist

and all blacks are violent.

That all slaves were black

and every part of hell is dark

That the devil is black

and God is white.

That all Muslims are terrorists

and all men are misogynists

That every nation in Africa is poor

and ravaged by war.

That all lawyers

are liars.

That all pastors

and politicians are thieves.

That all women are weak

and must be meek.

That all Tom-girls

and sissy boys

are gays

and doomed are their ways.

That all physically challenged

persons are incapacitated

These single stories

leaves a person in the ...

They appear lost.

Worst,

single stories

deplete the truth

and you are a living proof.

“The single story creates stereotypes,

and the problem with stereotypes

is not that they are untrue,

but that they are incomplete...”

This should help, perhaps.

That not all whites are racist

and not all blacks are violent.

Not all Muslims are terrorists

and not all men are mesogynist

That not all slaves were black

and not every part of hell is dark

That God is not white

and the devil is not black.

That not every nation in Africa is poor

or ravage by war.

That not all Tom-girls

or sese boys are gays.

That not all physically challenged

persons are incapacitated.

These are social frames

that must be dismantled.

You need information, perhaps.

This POEM is still loading...

SOURCE: cmcmghana.blogspot.com/ Nathaniel Crabbe/ Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

POEM: "Pain"

"Pain" 

When hope dies

And dreams defer.

When giant trees hinder

And Help deter.

Souls become pregnant with fear amidst anger.

Beware, they unleash their displeasure.

I have been somewhere.

Labored in sweat and tear

to secure my future.

Some relief I required

And hoped it be permitted by my master,

Perhaps my soul may sing

at my supplications being heard.

and heavenly bells may ring.

But all denied!

Lol.

I must be a fool.

So it seemed for I

to think my dreams I could meet

And that was not the first.

My dreams will not be chained, said I.

Neither will it be flawed

nor held as the cloud.

Alas, he plundered.

My master.

He plundered my wears and gains

and left not a finger.

I returned in dirt.

My sweat and wear,

putrid enough to make the wind silent

I toiled in vain

without a scintilla of relief from pain.

POET: Crabbe Nathaniel.

Tie Aid To Human Rights: MP Diane Abbot Urges the UK.

UK Member of Parliament for Hackney North and Newington, Diane Julie Abbot

The UK Member of Parliament for Hackney North and Newington, Diane Julie Abbot on Thursday said the rights of the Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Transgender (LGBT) persons is critical to the UK.

“...We value human rights and the LGBT issue seem to be part of the agenda. But I think the important thing about UK aid is that we should channel it not just to Western [interest] but to ordinary grassroot[s] people…I think the British people are very concern about human rights...”, she tactfully opined.

The UK Member of Parliament (MP) for Hackney North and Newington, said this in an interview at Accra-based City FM with Bernard Avle, Febuary 18, 2016.

POEM: "The Traveler"

 "The Traveler"

This Poem was Inspired after reading "The Road Not Taken" by Robert Frost.

I am a stranger in the streets of your heart.

And I could get lost because the road is rough.

Or get lost because I cannot tell the letters on your heart.

Every thing seem tough,

As a  puzzle proving hard to unfold.

I was told

that you are coy but true,

And in thy heart you harbor no foe

So why make somethings unknown?

Or you say somethings must remain unknown.

Why make the road to your heart unclear?

Open up and I will draw near.

We'll tear our passions in a rough ride.

And I will penetrate your vagina as my new bride.

Lets give love a chance to spite those who hate love.

Stop me not.

And I shall drink from your pool of love.

POET: Crabbe Nathaniel.