At hand, we die to the white man.
Call it like it is.
See it from my eye.
“I don’t see color”
You don’t see color!!!
What madness do you speak?
The fact that you don’t see color
Means you don’t see me!
Because I am a person of color,
(I AM A BLACK MAN!)
You’ve gotta see my color to see me.

You would rather make sure your dog eats
While my dawg got's to hustle and tussle for bone and scrap.
You would rather help stray dog
Than help a dawg gone astray.
A black life is a human life.

At hand, we die to our own.
Call it like I see it.
A lot of my brothers and sisters
See me from a dove’s eye view,
Killed by my own hands.
Brothers and sisters
Yet we **** each other like
Slave and oppressor.

The oppressor has become,
Me, who undermines my brother because
He don’t got the qualifications like the Caucasian.
Me who undermines my sister so much so
She now finds love in selling her love.
Help a n** out!!!

Land of the free,
For the skin that’s never been slaved.
Bring back the land
That was rightfully mine.
Do manners only apply when I'm wrong?
Gimme my land, freedom, rights and dreams
And ill give you your car back?
As a father I did what I had to for my kids.

Africa, your mother, cries
Day in and day out.
Her own children die
Not only at the hands of the free, but also at the hands of her children.
Sacrificed, a lot, to keep her children fed,
She’s been a mother to the world,
Its time we, her children, look after our mother and
Each other.

Ba ba black man
wandering the flaming sun/

Why do you choose to smear the night?
is it that you're too sour for truth and light? /

What’s your guilt?  
why running from the sanctuary your ancestors built? /

Traveler beneath my country’s fire-rain
off to the backyard and heave my pain/

If you deem freedom to be tons of dollar
come swing ***** of dust into the eyes of your mother/

Life of a dark traveler isn’t a small joke
so don’t you find my words a suffocating smoke/

gökhan is turkish
it means: ruler of heaven

first time i met you:
september 3rd 1993
first day at school

we looked at each other
we wanted to sit together
we became friends

how sturdy you were
people always thought you
were much older
but me?

i had a babyface
hated my babyface
wanted to look older due to my
fatherless childhood
always wanted to be my own dad
wouldn't work though

so gökhan became my daddy
father figure and protector
i looked up to you my man

ruler of heaven

six years later you died of cancer
i rushed to the hospital
countryside germany

when entering your room
aware of your death
i saw your stiff body

and you were smiling
i will never forget that
gökhan

an african-turk growing
up in germany 1990s
called gökhan tatchouop
lost the battle against cancer
sixteen years old

and he really died with a smile
because he was a good man
who did the right thing

as i get older year by year
i could be gökhan's dad by now

you're with me

My hair is my pride yet does not define me
My curls are a part of me but they aren’t me
The sentence goes “Bugs has an Afro” not “The Afro is wearing the girl”
If I want to extend it I will. If I want to cut it I will.
Never will I straighten it, tie it up, or relax it for people who cannot handle my curls at full volume. For these people I wear my Afro. I wear my space buns, my crochet braids, my shaved head. The only thing unprofessional is your 19th century attitude and prejudice opinions. It is a work place not a plantation.

It was unforgivably uncomfortable,

The prying gaze of the Sun.

It felt like a million eyes staring

Without blinking censuriously at my soul.

Stripped of pride with nowhere to hide,

I felt naked, wrapped in her fury;

She spoke sternly without pity.

Her words pierced my skin like arrows

Poking at the very core of my sanity;

I raged with sadness, helpless, drying.

Till Night came in shining armor:

To save the day.

© Layiglover