Showing posts with label Poetry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Poetry. Show all posts

Sunday, July 27, 2025

When Unity is a Threat

 

Art of Division

In a time when public trust is eroding and unpopular decisions mount, the preservation of power increasingly relies on division rather than unity. By selectively awarding lucrative contracts to favored groups—often funded by gutting federal programs or displacing others—leadership manufactures economic loyalty while deepening resentment. Aligning with influencers ensures that curated narratives drown out dissent, turning public discourse into a performance of consent. And by appeasing one marginalized group through the targeting or deportation of another, the administration exploits fear and prejudice to fracture potential coalitions. These tactics, though cloaked in modern language, echo centuries-old strategies designed to keep the majority fragmented, distracted, and disempowered—ensuring that the true source of their hardship remains obscured.

The Art of Division 

In halls of power, where silence buys time,
A whisper becomes policy, cloaked in design.
They carve the nation not by need, but by scheme,
Feeding one hand while the other bleeds unseen.

Contracts fall like rain on the chosen few,
Funded by the jobs of those they undo.
Programs gutted, safety nets torn,
While the hungry are told to weather the storm.

Voices once loud now echo through screens,
Influencers crowned as the new kings and queens.
Truth is a script, rehearsed and refined,
While dissent is drowned in a well-curated mind.

And when unrest stirs in the belly of the land,
They point to the stranger with a trembling hand.
Deport the dreamer, cage the plea,
To calm the fears of the angry and free.

But this is no new play, no novel deceit—
It’s the same old mask with a modern beat.
Divide the poor, distract the wise,
So no one sees where the true power lies.


Co-written with Microsoft Copilot

Monday, January 13, 2025

DEI





DEI


Whose building this is, I think I know.
This company belongs to my CEO.
He will not see me sitting here,
As he delivers the annual report.

My family and friends must think it queer
For me to still be working here
With people who think themselves elite
And care so little about their peers.

They look at me with such distaste
And act as if there's some mistake.
I try to introduce myself
But my hand they will not even shake.

Their souls are cold, dark, and deep,
They aim to prevent inclusivity,
But I could never accept defeat,
Knowing the purpose of diversity.


Note:

I've used my creative license with Robert Frost's poem "Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening," which you can read at the following link: Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

Sunday, September 15, 2024

Strategic Couples

Through strategic planning, 

love becomes our quest,

For loving couples 

engaging life's many tests.

Friday, December 2, 2022

This is America

 

This is America,

Home of mass hysteria,

Where life is inferior,

And guns, we got plethora.

 

This is soil,

Where blood boils,

Water, thicker than oil,

Psychologically wound like coils.

 

This is the place,

Where you get erased,

Virological debates,

And politically defaced.

 

 

I'm so cool like whoa

FDA all in your bowl,

Control your menstrual flow

So new birthrates be real slow.

 

 

This is America.

Sunday, August 7, 2022

Those Eyes...

 

Those Eyes...

Those beautiful eyes

which pierce my soul;

pierce me deep,

so bright

like the light 

in the end when we weep.

Is it Heaven that calls me forth,

beckons a return?

So searing,

those endearing

eyes that burn.

Tuesday, September 8, 2020

The Voice of Division


 

It was a black hole.

A nasty, filthy, dirty emptiness.

It was dark and damp and

creatures lived there.

You couldn't see them,

but you could hear their voices;

their ugly words;

hate-filled speeches;

statements with a single purpose:

to propagate divisions.

 

It was a hole of emptiness

stuck to his face

where a mouth should have been.

Sunday, September 6, 2020

Fading Democracy

 



"President Trump encouraged supporters…to vote twice, once by mail and once in person — which is illegal…."

-CBSNews.com

 

Fleeting and often in disrepair yet equal: Justice

is but a memory.

Agents of Peace; executors of law; fleshly bulwarks of freedom

is but a memory.

Simple smiles, honest handshakes, and polite hellos from perfect strangers

is but a memory.

Blue metal containers fed licked and sealed paper pouches

is but a memory.

And now

we're being told to

test the voting system

by voting twice...

 

Soon

fair elections

will be

just a memory.

Wednesday, August 26, 2020

John Ten Ten

 

Dear John,
What is it about the law,
That barely visible ink,
Embedded in
Thin worn paper
That feels like
Cauterized flesh.

What is it about enforcers of law,
These abattoir workers,
These human scythes,
Pushing the poor through slaughter lines
With each call for help they receive.

Is he the thief you spoke of?
The man dressed in blue
Waving gun and wearing shield
Whose oath, not to protect and serve
But rather to kill.

Monday, June 15, 2020

Justice




Justice

That Justice is a blind goddess
Is a thing to which we black are wise.
Her bandage hides two festering sores
That once perhaps were eyes.
—Langston Hughes, from Scottsboro Limited

Sunday, December 29, 2019

The Promises of War

The Promises of War

So,
We kill each other

Then what?
Utopia?

References
Wikipedia contributors. (2019, November 12). Red Summer. In Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia. Retrieved 07:21, December 29, 2019, from https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Red_Summer&oldid=925837384

Sunday, September 1, 2019

The Purpose of Poetry

What should poetry do?

Poetry should describe life,
Poetry should describe
what we see,
what we hear,
what we taste,
what we touch,
how we feel.

Poetry should describe life.





Tuesday, July 23, 2019

Mustard Seeds Update



My new book, Mustard Seeds, includes a poem on the back cover that's a bit of a brain teaser. See if you can figure it out.

Book Page: https://amzn.to/2SoucWq

Author's Amazon Page: https://amzn.to/2SmbqPm


View images from the illustrated version of the book Mustards Seeds at Fine Art America: https://fineartamerica.com/profiles/daryl-horton.html

Sunday, July 21, 2019

Title: Prayer Warrior
Artist/Photographer: Daryl Horton
Model: Daryl Horton
Description: From the book Mustard Seeds, Prayer Warrior symbolizes the religious spirit of the African American culture. Mustard Seeds is a collection of poems that explores how the various obstacles we encounter impacts our faith. View the book trailer and view the author's Amazon page at https://amzn.to/2Yatn95

Art Prints

Friday, July 19, 2019

Cancer Capitalism

Cancer Capitalism


Eating seeds fights
Cancer, is big
Business, produces
seedless foods.

Go figure.

Thursday, July 18, 2019

Mustard Seeds

Mustard Seeds




Mustard Seeds is a collection of poems that explores how the various obstacles we encounter impacts our faith. Visit the author's Amazon page to purchase your copy of Mustard Seeds. Paperback copies will be available by 22 July 2019.

Book Page: https://amzn.to/2SoucWq

Author's Amazon Page: https://amzn.to/2SmbqPm


View images from the illustrated version of the book Mustards Seeds at Fine Art America: https://fineartamerica.com/profiles/daryl-horton.html

Saturday, February 9, 2019

The Real World

The Real World


What the real world look like?
What the real world look like,
Anybody?
I said, what the real world look like brother?
What the real world look like.

The real world looks like
Spanish speaking children in big American courts defending their humanity
White judge, white sheriff, white reporter, white interpreter, white clerk, white plaintiff,
but not one black, brown, or beige body other than the defendant
the little child defendant,
Defending their unalienable Rights to Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.

What the real world look like brother
The real world looks like
actresses, white actresses, white women putting on an act
as fingers pound three numbers that use to bring help
but are now used to deliver terrorist acts.

What we want the real world to look like is blue serving and protecting
But the real world is, blue screaming "whose streets, our streets"
Protesting protesters who protest against acts of hate and inhumanity
While allowing protesters of hate and inhumanity to march,
Torches in one hand,
Firearms in the other, chanting
"You will not replace us!"
"Blood and soil!"

What the real world look like,
Anybody?
I said, what the real world look like brother?
What the real world look like.

The real world looks like
A country of people celebrating adoption of the Declaration of Independence
While ranking 52 of 167 on the global slavery index

The real world looks like
The most advanced country skilled at advancing
Advancing everything from the rates of inequality to the rates of incarceration

The real world looks like
A country with the science to create life-saving medicines
And the foresight to place these medicines out of the reach of the people

What the real world look like?
A place of over-industrialization
Of high infant mortality
A place where the most educated low-wage workers often find themselves unemployed
A place where people continue to increase their calorie intake and gun ownership
The real world looks like lips that condemn militarized countries while hands export more weapons in exchange for monetary gain and control through continued destabilization

What the real world look like?
If you have to ask yourself,
You haven't been watching
You haven't been listening
You haven't been living, connected to what's really going on.


Degrees of Love

Degrees of Love


Rain drops drip
Dripping…drip like
Lips tangled in confused twists,
Teeth embed in flesh, wish
Sounds of beating heart
Like beating fists
Dexterous enough to clinch
The folds of skin fingers pinch
As palms press
Heat rising from flesh
Igniting change
Merging, merging, merging,
Pleasure and pain
Pleasure and pain
Pleasure and pain.