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Mikey Kania Nov 2019
dear black folks i
want to be white

dear white folks i
want to be black

dear biracials i want to be
black and white
at the same time

(much love to my kids)

dear jews i
want to be a muslim

dear muslims i
want to be a jew

can you help me out
brother?

can you help me out
sister?

can you help me out
rabbi?

can you help me out
habibi?

i need someone
like you folks

who is aware of
DSR
Mikey Kania Dec 2019
i want to be white because i'm black
i want to be black because i'm white
i want to wake up like you did last night:










without wants
Today is a good day.
Mikey Kania Jan 13
dis here speech addresses all colors
this speech addresses all colors

try to appreciate life
try ta appreciate life feel me?

try ta respect everyone
try to respect everyone

yo maybe eved try ta love people
maybe even try to love people

tis be what i done been learnin' in stationary treatment  
that's what i've been learnin in stationary treatment

if ya don't embrace such values
if you don't embrace such values

try at least tolerating others:

you's black, white and biracial brothers
your black, biracial and white brothers

don't forget you's sisters
don't forget your sisters:

black, biracial, white

24 hours be made of day and night
24 hours are made of day and night

ya feel me?
do you understand?

every man be a mister
every man is a mister

every woman be a lady
every woman is a lady

racists are lazy
racists be lazy

since they don't want to understand "others"
since dey don't finna understand "others"

lovin', tho, be de best mood to make it trough dis state that we call life.

loving, though, is the best mood to make it through this state that we call life.  

from me to you:
from me to you:

MUCH COLORBLIND LOVE
Today is a good day.
Mikey Kania Dec 2019
have you guys
ever been to
großburgwedel?

it's in germany

i am there right now
to have my right leg
examined

sure: it's raining
the sky is grey
and all that
well well

but one thing i am
certain of:
i wouldn't come here again
except i want to gain
certainty

i have nothing against
the people
from großburgwedel

i simply don't want to
live in grey lands:

grey faces
grey voices
and many right-winged persons

I LOVE COLORS
I LOVE THE ETHIOPIAN FLAG
I LOVE MY BI-RACIAL FAMILY
Gotta get outta here...
Youtube: Zeritu Kebede Te Acheres
Jing Xi Lau Sep 2019
My father disapproves of him,
Because of his color.

If he were the color yellow
Like the mid-summer sun,
Or the shade of December snow,
If he were only as tan,
As Santa Monica sand,
My father's stubbornness,
Might've waned.

He is neither sunshine,
Nor snowflake.
He is the solemn night sky,
The dark side of the moon,
Too vast to be contained,
To be ignored,
To be understood.

You see,
People who don't understand the night,
Fear it.
They fear what it holds,
What it hides.

But I am a creature of the night,
I hang myself,
Like a moon,
Over the canvas of his body.
I spread myself,
Like a blanket of stars,
Across the nakedness,
Of the night.

My father disapproves of him,
Because of his color.
He thinks I'll change my mind,
But wait till he reads this poem.
I hear
Hindi
In the hallway—
Suddenly
My American
Lips
Can taste
The masala
In your kiss;
I smile
And let the memory
Travel
Across the sea
Where it belongs
v Jan 2019
Black girl can’t twerk.
Black girl can’t handle hair grease.
Black girl is half white girl
     is
Grey girl
            is
White ******* 8 mile
     is
Black girl in cop cars
                 is
Not black enough
    is
Basking under the “Yes, there are black people in Portland” sign.

Black girl’s dad left
so white girl sits at Mormon thanksgiving.

Black girl says “wus good” to
wake up
and work with
within “welcome
to Starbucks
what can we get started for you today?”

White boy says “you a real *****”
Black girl turns around and says
“I already know.”
You’ve told me my whole life,
You’ve never let me forget it.  

Black girl
ties my hair scarf at night.
White girl does not fear the rain in the morning.

Other white girl tells me she’s
“only ******* black girls after me.”
  I. white girl answer back
“umm that makes me uncomfortable.”

Grey girl has the Beatles tattooed on her left arm,
Stevie wonder
in progress
on her right.

Black girl was not adopted
from white Momma,
grew from her womb,
still carried out misunderstanding.

Black girl wonders why white girl stays silent so often.
Black girl is screaming at herself in the mirror
too scared to scream for Jason Washington
even
too scared to scream for Trayvon
too scared to scream for anything.

We forgot “why are you always stopping me”
but remember “I can’t breathe”.
Only black boys last words are worth remembering.
Black girl
hides behind
white girl’s voice in retail and traffic stops
and phone calls.

Grey girl,
Waiting for the phone call.
The
Dad’s in jail brother is dead phone call
The
How dare you let them take credit for you phone call.

When I moved away I was a success story.
I was black magic
Detroit dame not dangerous
city girl
in the good way.
With the good hair.
With
the way in which black girl
works three times as hard
but I,
white girl,
still presents her work.
Devin Ortiz Feb 2018
The problem,
One that I keep coming back to,
In America,
Is one of Identity.

It's a thing that ebbs and flows,
With the coming and going,
Of whatever agenda is pushed.

Now, if I'm pulled over, or looked over by name, or dare I associate with color.

Then they'll **** me and my blackness.

Now, should I take it personally, or empathize within the box they put me.

Then they'll curse me for denying the whiteness.

In this tug of war, I write my own story.

Two races,
One mind,
But the spirit of millions.

I am my ancestors, black and white.
This is my perspective.
I'm taking it back.
Devin Ortiz Feb 2018
What does it mean to be me,
The soul of a brother,
In the light skin of another..
Mulatto.

That biracial boy with white walls
And white bars,
A prison of stolen identity.

White & Black/ Black & White
Day & Night/ Night & Day

I'm the gray and the dusk inbetween
c Jan 2018
mom
we whispered missing years
fluttered legs over a withering porch bench

she mixed my hair with white fingertips
to keep the itchy thoughts away

the walls of my grandparents’ house held me close,
my surrogate womb

we shared more than blood and color as
time licked her blonde with
heavy waves of fruit and nicotine and
I didn’t mind

she sung sticky secrets to me:
nights she dreamed on the streets when
rent was too high and
dads that come like rain:
big and loud all at once,
then gone

fingertips padded quiet paths along budding curls while
“mom” sat sweet and safe against my tongue

--
c
a poem I wrote about my mom about 7 years ago now. still rings true.
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