White, black, green, and red,
Waving a flag.
Let the world know
There is a right to be alive—
The people of Palestine have,
In their own olive land.
Nov 24, 2024
Nov 24, 2024 at 8:56 PM UTC
i used to hide my feelings
because
i didn't want others to know
the pain and sorrow
that's carved into my skin.
though as time went by
it became too much
to simply cover up
and i began
to let it show through.
then i realized
no one notices anyway
for the only reason that
they're in their own little world
surrounded
by their ideals and desires
and too busy to look beyond
the circumference
of their life.
Sep 6, 2018
Sep 6, 2018 at 8:46 AM UTC
silhouettes and shadows
were ever over me
until your voice spoke into
and through the dark.
now strength and courage
flow from your breath
and into my lungs
to help me walk
this walk of life
and into the arms
of my beloved.
though my body aches
my heart is free
from the sorrow and grief
i’ve carried
once before.
and now I rejoice
for the love you give
is given harmoniously
and the world has been
and forever will be
overcome.
Jul 19, 2018
Jul 19, 2018 at 9:15 AM UTC
I love the rain
Not really sure why
It’s only water falling from the sky
It’s relaxing
And I often feel stress free
Listening to how it sounds
It pounds on the windows
And splat on the ground
Thuds on the roof
Nothing can escape it
Everything is within its reach
You can’t hide, you’ll get wet eventually
I love how everything scatters
Trying to get out of its way
No birds flapping or animals scurrying around
I like watching others react to it
Some people run
Others walk
Some skip, some jog
Others hop over puddles like they’re logs
And some avoid it at all cost by hiding in cars
I love the rain
And if I could
I’d watch it all day
Jul 18, 2018
Jul 18, 2018 at 12:25 PM UTC
I’ve never received a flower
Or even a rose
But I’m a guy
So it’s acceptable I suppose
No kisses
Or sweets
No treats
That signifies ones feelings for me
No token of ones love
But I have gotten
Disappointment
Watered with hate
Planted in betrayal
Fertilized with lies
And maintained by fakes
Roses are Red
But my roses are dead
And crumble beneath my feet
Jul 18, 2018
Jul 18, 2018 at 12:05 PM UTC
i am so small
compared to the mountains
i am so little
compared to the sea
i am so tiny
in comparison to the islands
and i am so large
compared to what i thought i would be
Jul 18, 2018
Jul 18, 2018 at 11:55 AM UTC
there are two dimensions
to this living.
One is the surface,
the ethereal,
the light to the dark.
The shadow to the skin:
The depth of pigment.
But then, there is the deeper sin
the battering within.
The judgment of blackness
based on skin.
It has hounded us,
through our history,
from House to field.
from basketball court
to court house.
From boardroom
to dorm room
to class room
to living room.
Granny used to say,
ooh girl you've got good hair.
Nice and wavy,
like your grandpappy's.
Used to say,
see you're the pretty one.
Running her fingertips
along our cheeks,
mired in awe
of our caramel complexion.
while like tar,
it stuck to the minds
of our classmates,
cohorts,
coworkers.
With jealousy
they said light-skinned,
not black enough,
not us enough.
not us enough.
when one day in class,
the teacher had asked,
"what do mommy and daddy do?"
Janitor.
Works for the state.
Garbageman.
we piped up proudly,
"my mommy and daddy have college degrees,
one creates houses
the other works in network security"
all the while,
our classmates had laughed,
made fun of us,
"so, that's why you don't talk black"
Two smart ******
bred a smart *****
And so the story of us,
had morphed
from the days of Angela Davis,
to this new form of self-hatred.
the valley between us
suffered a cataclysm
and became a canyon.
Continued to grow,
our skin a stain,
and as actors we had to train,
mellowing our dialect
just to make it seem as if we had intellect,
cause we all know a succesful black man,
has two distinct voices,
and not through his own choices,
it is bred from necessity.
can't sit in front of white man
and talk like pickaninny.
got so comfortable out of our own skin,
that we felt we were the ones
digging out the edges of the canyon.
So far thrown from blackness
that maybe this is how they separate us,
make us hate ourselves
and love they wealth.
make us hate our hair
and love they locks.
Cause like superheroes
we switch from day out
to day in.
Being dark, light or caramel complexioned
we stay hounded by
how close we get to whitening.
Jul 18, 2018
Jul 18, 2018 at 11:41 AM UTC
*Just when your world collapses
To the point of fall apart
There still resides a tiny spark
Deep within your hungry heart
The tiniest of slivers
A slight glimmer of hope
A righteous nod from the voice of God
Letting you know you're not alone*
Jul 18, 2018
Jul 18, 2018 at 11:33 AM UTC
When people ask me
Why poetry
Why not pick a paying profession
Take hold this truth
That I'm laying on you
In which there is a valuable lesson
If you do what you like
You're going to find
Life holds treasure in wonder
Instead of the dough
Taking you out in its tow
And then pulling you under
When you're doing things
Think more the gifts they bring
And not money to be made
When people ask me
Why poetry
Do I really need to say
Jul 18, 2018
Jul 18, 2018 at 11:33 AM UTC