Liberation feat. Cold Medina prod. Original Vis

Prophesy: The Fall of Donald J. Trump 

The downfall of a man is never far from his dreams, 
A president of unsound mind and misplaced self-esteem,
Says he’s going to drain the swamp and fix a broken system,
But his words are disingenuous and his tweets always loathsome.

He boasts of being the "greatest jobs producer that God ever created,"
But listen to what this Master Tweeter is inciting, unabated.
Mirror mirror on the wall tell us about his inevitable fall.
Mirror mirror, we’ll all resist; he’s not legitimate at all.

Donald J. Trump, wannabe King of the USA,
Our problems relegated to your gilded ashtrays,
You’re incapable of empathy for suffering by the people, 
Oblivious to huddled masses that you treat as expendable.

His executive orders are appalling; he wants to turn back the clock.
Pollution and climate change protections are on his chopping block.
Mirror mirror on the wall, he says he’s going to build a wall,
Mirror mirror, we’ll all resist; Donald Trump must fall.

Native rights, covenants, and claims must be protected with humility,
But Trump’s cabinet and appointments guarantee world instability.
This naked emperor insists his commands must be obeyed,
But his mandates are omens that troubles will cascade.

Arrogance goes before a fall and corruption’s the name of the game.
You pivot and lie, you squirm and point, and then you lay false blame.
Mirror mirror on the wall, foreshadowing your shameful fall,
Mirror mirror, we’ll all resist; it’s impossible for you to lead at all.

Tainted businessman, inflated ego, “commander in chief,”
Your vanity and greed reveal that you’re a bloody thief,
Hidden agendas, favoritism, and thinly combed over lies,
Destroying the credibility true government should exercise. 

Money talks, money walks, and greases every hand.
Your family, friends and staff acquiesce to your high command.
Mirror mirror on the wall, your corruption foretells your downfall.
Mirror mirror, we’ll all resist; your antics are off the rails. 
Mirror mirror on the wall, our earth and lives are not for sale. 
Mirror mirror, we’ll all resist your small hands balled into a fist. 
Mirror mirror on the wall, your House of Bigots is going to fall. 

Richard Hamasaki, Kāneʻohe, Oʻahu, Hawaiʻi January 2017

Prophesy: The Fall of Donald J. Trump

This collaborative poem, titled "How to Become a Genealogist," is by Aiko Yamashiro, Joanna Gordon, Joy Lehuanani Enomoto, Serena Ngaio Simmons, Jocelyn Kapumealani Ng, Lyz Soto, Anjoli Roy, Jamaica Heolimeleikalani Osorio, Noʻukahauʻoli Revilla, Mehanaokala Hind, Grace Teuila Taylor.

This poem was published on the blog Ke Kaʻupu Hehi ʻAle with the following introduction from Aiko Yamashiro:

“Where is home? Call it prayer.” –Lyz Soto, Our Bodies of Stories

In December 2016, at the Honolulu Academy of Arts Doris Duke Theater, our dear friend Lyz Soto debuted her stunning spoken word performance, “Our Bodies of Stories.” Working closely with fellow poets Jocelyn Kapumealani Ng, Serena Ngaio Simmons, Grace Teuila Taylor, and Joanna Gordon, Lyz showed us how, with enough trust, the autobiographical can be collaborative. Can be community.

Together the women bore stories of finding and losing ancestors, fierce diaspora blood, offerings to new and old homes, taxonomical ruins. Of Maui, of Kahoʻolawe. Of ‘āina making women making each other.

It was such a deep thrill to witness these stunning artists create together, such a blessing to feel the sore of my own stories being held by their truths.

In January, on the plane ride home from Maui, where we had the great opportunity to share the performance at the MACC, we started this collaborative list poem. The writing that came out of that felt too honest and committed not to share with you.

For Lyz, and our genealogies, mahalo nui for your strength and belief. –Aiko

"How to Become a Genealogist": Collaborative Poem

Enemy of the People

Fee Fie Foe Fum, I smell the blood
of a loathsome vampire brood, 
igniting fear and hatred like fire,
playing cat and mouse in the White House.

Be he resigned or be he impeached,
the media’s “the enemy” he preaches. 

Fee Fie Foe Fum, I smell the blood
of a fake president wallowing in mud,
a brutish ideologue and quack,
whom we must persistently attack. 

Be he shady or be he tyrant,   
inciting bigotry through rant. 

Fee Fie Foe Fum, I’ve caught the scent
of malignant misgovernment:
there’s no need for clairvoyance
to see corruption so flamboyant.

Be he criminal or be he thief,
camouflaging all his grief.

Fee Fie Foe Fum, I smell the blood
of a cabinet ordained by haughty thugs,
filthy rich, dogmatic, and cancerous,
endorsed by hypocrites in Congress. 

Be he a fake or be he a fool
he serves only to misrule. 

Fee Fie Foe Fum, I smell the blood
of resistance in solidarity, 
floodgates open to defeat a crooked system: 
to defy all corruption and reject him.

Be he the president or be he batty,
he’s a puppet of the nationalist kleptocracy.

Fee Fie Foe Fum, I smell the blood
of his billionaire club,
the people’s greatest enemy,
bankrolling politicians with impunity.

Be he a despot or be he a bigot, 
he’s a fraud and illegitimate. 

Fee Fie Foe Fum, I smell the blood
of the real enemy of the people,
of a propped up figurehead of deceit,
a master of spin and an outright cheat.  

Fee Fie Foe Fum, I smell the blood
of resistance in solidarity…
of resistance in solidarity. 

Richard Hamasaki
Kāneʻohe, March 2017

Enemy of the People

Cowardly Christopher Deedy

Event: National Poetry Month

When: April 27, 2019

Where: daShop

What: Poetry Showcase

National Poetry Month @ daShop

Moana

D. Keali'i MacKenzie - Moana

Event: Fall Showcase

When: June 20, 2019

Where: The Manifest

What: Poetry

Fall Showcase @ The Manifest

Lee Kava - various poems

Anjoli Roy reads "Grandpa Was A Skin Diver"

But I Am The Tortoise

Honestly not really sure what it sounds like, but im sure its a banger

Calipygian Call A Pigeon In

the writers you love and the music their work plays best around 
 
www.itslitwithPhDJ.wordpress.com

"How to Become a Genealogist": Collaborative Poem

PhDJ

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