Liberated Muse Arts Group

Traffic Jam by Shameeka Dream

Human traffic jam,

Red lights

I see as red drips between virgin hymens

Forcefully torn like open sesame

They can never get the best of me

May traffic my mouth asshole and vagina

But can’t traffic my God my mind you’ll never find her

It’s the truth-

300,000 women are trafficked annually

But some folk are more concerned with slim waists and fat booties

Than little girls stolen to sell too womanly hips for fantastic trips of some perverts mind

Don’t want you to kill them just torture them softly

Because if I declare war on these bitches even in nonviolence, war will come for me

So I declare peace and love to you murderous bitches

We act like pedophiles don’t go to open mics

Wish them well say it twice I don’t talk to mics for your pleasure

Just to remind you that you will one day meet your maker

And when you do you will wish that I had not predated you with my conversations with Spirit

Let all who do badly to little boys and girls

Experience in the next existence what they consider to be a child’s pleasure in this one 

Let someone create for them in Spirit what they created for another 

As I get caught in the feverish frenzy of retaliating spiritually I evaluate

If I wish bad, even when guised under a mask of wishing one receive what they create,

I am still spewing hate

So make this bipolar poem a happy dirge for pervs

Let it give them goose pimples as they think of someone pinching their dimples

Not in innocence but with the confidence of a so-called gentleman

Let someone ease not so easily into their crevices

Pry their closed mouths open

Then force them closed when trying to scream, or speak

Let them understand that a pedophile is not a real man

Or woman

Because we act like forcing little boys

To suckle grown nipples and rub bodies does not happen

That man who lost his virginity at 11 to a 19 year-old

Experienced a young female pedophile

Whose image isn’t cute and doesn’t make him more manly

He did not fuck her, she raped a boy baby

So don’t come to me smiling slyly as you recount the dumbass memory

How to castrate your mind

I wish I knew I would columbine pedophiles if I could get them all in one place

As elevated as I supposedly am I can’t help but think

These motherfuckers make it hard for me to concentrate on the potential goodness of man

But I know the goodness I hold inside

Refuse to let negativity be my demise

And I am not going to the soft innocent quiet place in my mind

I am going to a place of asking

Please pray me a prayer for peace

Allow to write a poem of forgiveness

One that helps me remember that grace is not bitchassness

But elevated thinking its where my richness

So bring me down

Off this incomplete soapbox of stuck in angriness

I want to forgive them, but what about the victims I mean survivors???

What about the fact that this bullshit transpired?

What about the fact that because of it she can’t stay hired

Post traumatic he fucked my life syndrome

Get me out of that rut I challenge you

If I write poems that move you

Write one that moves me too…..




To learn more about Shameeka Dream, visit