Patricia Etienne | |
PROFIL O autorze Przyjaciele (11) Kolekcje Książki (1) Poezja (25) Wideo wiersz (5) |
Patricia Etienne, 11 września 2013
Simply Tuesday morning, a day just like the ordinary
But to some Lucifer's hearts,
It's planned to be a day in hell
And continues to be a hellish memory to some.
Yeah, America Remembers!
A morning that goes the opposite
When the sun overtaken by cloudiness
And darkness spreads onto her land.
Yeah, America Remembers!
A morning that turns out to be
A deadly viper assassination squad.
That serves thick blood on a plate, and tears in a mug for breakfast.
Yeah, America Remembers!
A morning that rips many families apart.
and hold many hearts in sorrow
And lead many children to the orphan world.
Yeah,9/11/01
America falls onto her knees.
It's as if the sword of Zeus is planted into her heart
Oh she weeps and weeps
The tears that fall from her eyes look like the river of the unknown gods.
Oh terrorists!
You strike my land but I'm not destroyed
You shed my children blood
But most are standing tall and vigilant
You must know
With my torch holding up high
I am who they say I am
My road is illuminating for life to come.
Patricia Etienne, 22 stycznia 2013
Oh great wisdom Sage of wondrous time
Shine up your great eyes on the women of India as they have been under difficulties
Their land has no place to free and their voice has no strength to cry for mercy
Each day is a struggle like a challenge for a limb to climb up mountains
For you Great Sage, stood against the great Sanhedrin's practices
Your revolutionary actions, had delivered the ultimate chance, and fair choices
That brought by far, women's and children's rights.
Like Mary-Magdalena became sin-free
The Samaritan woman spread the gospel of salvation
The crippled woman who first took steps inside the synagogue
for you broke down the hall of patriarch superiority
your affirmation on behalf of women, had brought The Pharisees to humiliation and shamed
Oh Great Master-avatar!
Why in India a woman is raped every twenty minutes?
Why such adversities on those women ?
Why tears take the place of their glowing eyes?
why sadness takes constant notes in their hearts?
Why such malevolent at large?
If follow your theory by turning the other cheek to the aggressor.
It won't be much hope and
MeditaTION wouldn't be the answer either
For those Indian women cry “Great St. Essa”
You sacrificed to create peace and gender equality.
Let the bell tolls and said “Beware, Brute-Men leave the site of those women for they are sacred and loved!”
Let those unleashed rapist be refrained to normal type of behavior
For legacy of justice reigns, and the fallen souls shall depart in peace.
© 2011 by _Patricia Etienne
All rights reserved
Patricia Etienne, 15 stycznia 2013
With your narcissistic aspects,
How can I grow under your shadow?
Must I always carry a panhandling,
or...
Break
Away?
Either way...
The thought of you give me the fear.
Must I remain passive
so I can be pet around?
Must I act coercively-
Again...
How can I break loose
From this-
Hypochondria form of you?
Patricia Etienne, 21 kwietnia 2012
It’s 6: 35 in the morning
I wake up sweat and breathless
Thoughts pounding my head
The ramblings of my brain
Wanting to come out live through ink
I slip my hand to look for you
Then, instead my hand touches
The folded sheet on the pillow
Damned you!
Damned you!
I slip my hands between my thighs
The early sun set hit my eyes
Through the thin curtain window
Allow my eyes to close
The memory of the beautiful night
Shivers my body, then I get angry
Hear my heart cry
God of misericord
Why must it always have to be this way?
Like a hit and run situation
Like a Doctor’s visit
You come and treat my pain
And then hit the road
Never once have the chance
To wake up cuddle in your arms.
To cry our joys of the night passé
To gaze into each other’s eyes
Share a good morning kiss
Or drink a morning coffee together
Never mind!
O’ ma tête me fait mal
C'est comme une piqûre d`aiguille
ça me fait si mal, si mal
Dans ma tête...
I try to think of something else
Still my thoughts want to
Transcribe on paper and
Here is my endless story (…)
Patricia Etienne
Patricia Etienne, 20 kwietnia 2012
Gazing upon the rocky grey mountain peaks
Abruptly, particle of rocks avalanche break away
Rush down the surface of the mountain
and shake the ground into bitter disaster
It seems like darkness holds the world hostage
Rush down the surface of the mountain
Like a cat sink its claws into the wall- people hang on the edge
Fighting not to slide down below the cave erosion
Anatomy of fear stares in the eyes of us all
Really no room to talk, humanity is caught in the act of misdeed
Anatomy of fear stares in the eyes of us all
When we are trapped under the cloud's veil
and evil paint-balls spread all over our bodies
Should harsh reality to be tossed in?
What is our reasons and alibis?
Humanity cries for help and attention
What is our reasons and alibis?
We are of different races, ethnicities and creeds- love must not flourish
For you not silence- I must retaliate
For we are not in the same political comfort zone- war must declare
Humanity cries for help and attention
Who to blame and who should we go to for repair?
It's to keepsake, and can't be left in this lucrative scene
We should collaborate, and make amend, but when?.
Humanity cries- look at me, notice me and stare at me!
© 2012 by _Patricia Etienne
All rights reserved
Patricia Etienne, 25 marca 2012
Midnight hour sets on the clock
Mother moon, lights up the deep black sky
The ray of light strikes on the surface of my bedroom window
Appears to disturb my sleep cycle
– Meanwhile,
I am tossing and turning unable to find comfort
Alphabetical letters whirled inside my head
Images and shapes throbbing my brain
looking to cluster and birth a meaning.
Under a teeny cylinder candlelight
I oblige to transcribe down my thoughts
Perhaps a poet I come to be?
~~~~
I glimpse down on the paper
Ponderous words exert feelings of discontentment and concern
The muse is coming stronger like a tam tam beat
So words are climbing down as though on the activist dance-hall
– Unbelievable!
They are revolutionise words
In form that pursuit a cause
It seems like my clever in action.
I rebel against my thoughts
I attempt to replace bitter lines with soft sentences
In the end the true rhythm of my heart reveals – A superlative minder
This poet I am
~~~~
Now the candlelight goes out, and
I’m sitting in the dark thinking.
~~~~
Thus, I bump into some difficult tunnels
To hear the voices, to interpret them,
then to feed them accordingly through the mind of the reader and listener.
Not an easy task. Sorry for those who think this way.
– Controversial!
Some depict me as a feminist thinker, a citizen poet--
Others view my approaches as 'A bowl of mixing salad.'
Either one bothers me not
What matters to me is the one life that I touch and make the difference.
There's always one indeed, not to say many
It's the power projected in the pen
The free verse unravel,
and create a piece of evocative writing,
Which is free to revise at any time-- makes me the poet I am.
Patricia Etienne, 21 lutego 2012
I am the creation of the higher up
Can't be the specimen of Virgin Mary
Can best be the seed of Aphrodite
Created to please-
Satisfy,
Submissive,
Lure,
Discrete
Strive and grow
(… Enough already)
~*~
If I choose to follow the path of Lady Godiva
To strengthen things-
Gain remission,
Rebuke oppression,
Acknowledge,
And to set up justice whereupon
(… Frankly, I find nothing wrong with that)
~*~
If I choose to follow my meanings in life
To voice concerns
for those in the dungeon,
Keep in silence with a leash
and blind folded with a gipsy veil
(… then, that's great!)
~*~
If I choose to be me!
I bow down to no fear , just dare
In spites of being a woman
I step on my imperfections
To flaunt my women-ism-
Socially involved
And, an...
(… Go on , don't crack down, please stop it, stop those tears of yours. You are stronger than that, go on, I'm listening)
~*~
Then why must I misconstrue in the plethora of the ist and ism characteristics?
Feminist,
lesbianism,
Envy-ism
All called names by male chauvinist, sexist
who solely perceived Aphrodite's seeds as stupid and worthless.
Stand on the superiority scale
Throwing dragon fire if winning and controlling are not up to their vantages
(… But sweet pea, you sound very upset)
~*~
Unlike the Virgin Mother
I am a modern woman
I put on the red eyes
When I'm bit by snake tongues
Cruel judgmental minds
I wear my trouser and boots to maintain my activities
I hard labor around the clock
For I sustain and cater to my family
I carry my banner up high to denounce malfeasance
Intimidation is aroused when imply the ist and ism cycle
The idea behind is to hibernate thoughts
Cripple and crush women's souls
In spites of all called names
I remain to be me
Whole and concrete
(… You said it all sweet pea, now rest your case!)
© 2011 by _Patricia Etienne
All rights reserved
Patricia Etienne, 21 lutego 2012
It hurts to feel
When you have a dream
A very funny dream
That is bigger than your thoughts
Than what you can take on
When illusion rises
You feel to take the world by storms
Then limitation stands in your way.
If only she could, she would
She would find a way to defy
What is appeared to be
The scourge of our time
The irrational thing
The forbidden flea
That literally sucks life
And supplies darkness in return
If only she could, she would
She would destroy by rage
This funny pioneer wants to be
The gloom and doom insect
With the ultimate intention
To destroy man kind
With no exception
Nonetheless, she is so very heartbroken
When realize this demon is at its will power
Nobody has yet to come close to its match
In fact she finds it to be so very difficult
To even finding words of motivation
To alleviate its victims' souls
Knowing half of the time
It's just...
But when she looks on the bright side
She takes a very deep breath
Hopeful breath!
Knowing, that we are human, the biggest species among all!
The celestial gift given to us
We will not be defeated by cancer
The dubious insect
The supreme victory is to us!
© 2011 by _Patricia Etienne
All rights reserved
Patricia Etienne, 13 lutego 2012
On this foul terrain
Even the very light blowing wind
Bring the strongest man off balance
Go figure the heavy black boots predators
who spread torture by buckets.
They blow fire with burning pressure
and oppression with no measure;
attempting to meltdown those who are reluctant of their wrongdoings.
Like the no kindest, no heart Apocalypses' laws
Intimidation is ruled to win souls
Rejeanne's father underwent the knife of oppression
The tried to drain off his activist blood
Poor Rejeanne, she witnessed the entire reckless operation,
and when her father’s last breath went flatlining like a candle light.
Her mother escaped through the back wooden window
With little Rejeanne carried on her shoulder
Hours later she fled the country,
and left Rejeanne behind with her Grand-Mama.
Poor child has carried the cross of her time.
She felt short-changed to have lost her father,
and sort of abandoned by her mother.
She shed tears of broken memories;
especially, on father's day same for Mother's day.
Although, her Grand-Mama really tried to act as her parents,
but at times that didn't cut the drill.
She really needed someone to call Mom and Dad and she needed parenting love.
For Rejeanne, being a toddler and life without parents was very upheaval.
The many distressing dreams she always encountered,
Related to the traumatic event she has suffered.
Her nightmares content – the bogeymen in the black boots;
who were trying to break the door open.
Horrific dreams, that she often awoken with her heart pounding from fear.
Through many years Rejeanne spent each day of her life like a massive morn.
She grew into an anxious adult
Nonetheless compassionate...
Still with the long lasting emotional effects of traumatic experienced
© 2012 by _Patricia Etienne
All rights reserved
Patricia Etienne, 7 lutego 2012
Since the ancient time
It has been a constant fight-
Between the two forces
With a profuse imbalance
The small walks on the blade of grass
With the end result of ongoing tears- of anguish;
The big delivers endless corruptions,
And make certain their victims' joy is treason.
A battle of justice versus injustice-
Knowledge debating with ignorance
Prejudice leading towards racism
Eventually proclaim world apartheid.
Oh this chronic fight of agony
Where things are taking a twist
Hopeless marches on the graveyard
It's like bringing knife to gunfire
For the small it's a fight without pod
Since an ant cannot tangle with a giant elephant
The scale has remained imbalance.
Again the sadist with a smile on his face!
© 2012 by _Patricia Etienne
All rights reserved
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