The World’s Oceans.. Poetry from Virginia Joseph

 

World’s oceans are no less than what your lungs deserve

 

I’ve heard that the bombs you drop con­tain thou­sands of ton­nes of olive branches.

I’ve heard that your bul­lets tickle them into obli­vi­on.

I’ve heard that your haz­ard­ous chem­ic­als give the skin a healthy glow.

I’ve heard that your acts of san­ity enrich the soil so crops can grow.

The world’s oceans are no less than what your lungs deserve

I’ve seen nations des­troy them­selves from with­in.

I’ve seen inac­tion be the course of action because there are no resources to profit from.

I’ve seen the people dumbed-down, tuned-out and only liv­ing for the moment; paci­fied, inebri­ated and inde­cis­ive.

I’ve seen the rebuke meted out by the clap­ping, boo­ing masses, when voices have had the cour­age to chal­lenge the status quo.

The world’s oceans are no less than what your lungs deserve

I’ve felt the pain of know­ing people who were bru­tal­ized by the police, white hot anger for­cing its way out of my eyes.

I’ve felt the loneli­ness of think­ing I am one of a few.

I’ve felt the des­pair of know­ing that what you are say­ing is neither new nor true, but will affect what many will think and do.

I felt the rise in anger when you decide to attack, and I get pissed off that you are per­plexed when in respon­se we fight back.

I’ve felt the weight if the world on my shoulders, all the tears, all the death, all the fear, all the anguish. Ask­ing myself, what in the world am I striv­ing for?

I’ve felt revolu­tion for­ce its way through the stag­nant air, inund­at­ing the atmo­sphere and this time you will not sup­press it.

Sub­merged in the ice cold depths, it will take a while for you to hit the ocean floor. May your souls and hearts of ice, burn a dark, cruel light that will nev­er be seen in bright­est day or darkest night. May your minds be filled with vis­ions of what your cruelty did to oth­ers before the water wholly con­sumes and des­troys you.

Because the world’s oceans are no less than what your lungs deserve!

 

 

 

 

The fol­low­ing two tabs change con­tent below.
Lana Bell

Lana Bell

Author / Poetry Edit­or at I Am Hip-Hop 
Lana Bell, is an eight­een year old Lon­don­er who is based in Bris­tol. She is an emer­ging Spoken Word Artist, and the Poetry Edit­or for I Am Hip-Hop Magazine. She has been writ­ing for a dec­ade; though she has only been per­form­ing on from the age of fif­teen. She got into Hip-Hop music at four­teen, and she found a massive interest in Old Skl Sounds and the out­let that Hip-Hop music offered her.

About Lana Bell

Lana Bell
Lana Bell, is an eighteen year old Londoner who is based in Bristol. She is an emerging Spoken Word Artist, and the Poetry Editor for I Am Hip-Hop Magazine. She has been writing for a decade; though she has only been performing on from the age of fifteen. She got into Hip-Hop music at fourteen, and she found a massive interest in Old Skl Sounds and the outlet that Hip-Hop music offered her.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *