Archive for civil liberties

23/30 Democracy Now. (16 bars)

Posted in Hip hop, NaPoWriMo, Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , on 04/29/2015 by spikedaeley

Warning so explicit they like, “How explicit is it? “

I’m like “Have you ever witnessed the scope of folks indifference?”

They like, “Damn. I bet that shit is wicked can I get me some?” I’m on it

I’m not sure when I’m done you’re gunna want it.

Let’s be honest, tomorrow’s not a promise it’s a lie

More accurate a half-truth, they stare at me like statues

I’m like damn, did someone break your smartphone?

Aren’t those, tickets for the “We All Got Scars Show?” (thought so)

Me I keep mine open then adjust my daily dosage

Of self-medicate, levitate, simmer for a moment

Then it’s on again, battle with my rattled self-confidence

Brush off compliments like dirt off my shoulders (like wow)

Definitely fortunately fortunate but

Cynical as exiles with invitations from governments

A sucker is, born so frequently it might surprise you

My culture is, more poisonous than even I’d surmised boo


The Language of Safety (16/30 Work in Progress)

Posted in NaPoWriMo, Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , on 04/17/2013 by spikedaeley

Prompt by the amazing Mindy Nettifee- Have a conversation with something that has power of you.  At the end of the conversation, ask for that power back.


As an educator I spit a big game about being an advocate for women.
I’m appraising what I carry in my eyes. Talking about listening.
Looking for my own soft edges and studying the language of safety.

I am also staring at breasts. Lips. Thighs. Evaluating her first in context
of mating potential.  Multiplying hip width by smile and smooth
shoulders where she equals naked in my head without her knowledge
or permission, and I am still staring.

Meanwhile, I am talking about Steubenville.  About a Swedish tourist
raped in front of her husband for setting up camp in the wrong forest.
I am being included in conversations about creating safe spaces. About
teaching adolescent boys what they should already know.  Women are not
their bodies. Bodies are not things.  There is so much power in this knowledge.

I see two commercials in the span of 90 seconds.  The deodorant one
says I’ll be rewarded by taking clothes out of dryers at laundromats
and lying about it by folding panties. The second says I can fuck
3 different come-hither stare wearing sex goddesses in the same night if I
just use their hair product.  You have a 24/7 life but it’s more important
to have a 24/7 dick. What’s worse is I see these commercials at least
5 times each before this even occurs to me.

We are at war with women.  Every single institution armed against them.
I daily am as much mercenary as I am conscientious objector.  I keep
my objectifications private, hug protectively, and look but don’t touch.
I am fascinated by menstruation.  By what my lover thinks about the
shape of her vulva.  I am a celebrator of pornography.  How do I
translate this in the language of safety?  “I’m only human” comes out
crass and ignorant.

Show me the power in this knowledge.  I am asking for the power
to recognize Creation in her words before her shape.  In her ideas
before her scent. In her language when she says she trusts me.

Dear Homophobes (10/30, an “un-love” poem)

Posted in NaPoWriMo, Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , on 04/11/2013 by spikedaeley

I gotta give one love to the viral Morgan Freeman quotes
calling you ignorant assholes.  Far greater men than I
have been willing to grace the intertubes with their opinions
and while you may already know mine, I never tire of offering it.

Worry about your own fucking life.


“Forfteen percent of all people” walk fault lines of shaky beliefs,
marrying the regret of old choices with clenched jaws.  Studies show
that you can abandon previous inclinations toward being an asshole
with only a few small life changes.

Step one:
Allow others to live their own lives without taking umbrage.

Step two:

Having the world peg you for an asshole is not easy.
There will be some adjustments.  I offer you support,
encouragement to forgive yourself, and a thick skin
until you do.  Fortunately, being an asshole is a choice.

Spike Daeley out.



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