Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sammie Aug 2017
Alive or dead, no matter how
We meet people with whom we share vows
Now, some might never be anywhere near
But they are still very very dear
I too met a wonderful true friend
But I still wonder why did the story had to end?
You taught me life was about growing with all
I never knew it was your last call
Seventh heaven was your muse
But why were you in such a hurry to choose?
Why, oh why you did you go at this pace
With us, you could have completed this race
Now that you are gone
Leaving our hearts so torn
Creating void in our heart
Of which you were such a big part
Each day we miss those assuring glittering eyes
Crying our hearts out till our tears finally dries
Stay happy and blessed wherever you be
This is, to the Lord, my final plea
Lou Aug 2017
Throwback dissonance, results in future social dystopian conversations. Tormented lives swept under rugs, in between the cracks of floor boards. Dust and filth, years of names. All scratched into the bathroom stalls of so called neighborhood's, subordinates of time and "hush-hush" the city to the suburbanites. Shocking to them eating dinners still in the 1990's, fastened tight in seat belts of self esteem, MTV news and 50 inches of reality. You must be joking, not ever knowing, folly box dwellers, why they say all "white".

The back doors were shut and locked when you looked left and double took right; as jokes from the safety of your water stained walls and cigarette burned carpets, to joke hatred like art and we must pretend not us though? Wall to wall, our prison starts here and ends in our front lawns as the country shouts "white man" and we must remain silent.

My father's land,  nearly 20 year cultural hiatus that split our family in two,  came back from time, in a paperclip, over the wall, east to the west side of Berlin and  delivered in a rebel DeLorean with bumper stickers of second amendment speeches and pro-life Bible out of contextual arguments. These retrospects, taking advantage of sales on tiki torches while stealing phrases from my great grandfather class of 1933. And the whole country shouts "white man".

No, my country,
not white men.
In skin yes, in history, no.

They were never men.
Never did my father speak of men.

I heard the gang rapes of Gypsy's.
Stories of slain Catholics.
Murders of homosexuals,
The bones crushed of opposing parties.
The staple mascot of pain, Judaism extermination that swept through culture like a bad advertisement tune.

Gassed.
Tortured.
Worked.

They come for us all.
Not as white men.
They come as their own.

This is not man.
They maybe white, but not man.

I am a white man,
but it's always been human, first.

That's black.
That's white.
That's purple.
That's life.

They come for our progress, not our skins.
Virginia showing its color but I am not allowing them to show my skin. They are not white men. We don't want them. They are lesser, an insult to monsters and dogs.
at Aug 2017
My name is Yellow.
As in the skin I bare,
and the heart beneath.

Yellow,
like the perfect grades,
and the failing student.

Yellow,
like the title stripped from my father,
and the title he wishes to strip from me.

Yellow,
unlike the parents,
and the silent daughter.

My name is Yellow.
And I am proud.
Sammie Jul 2017
I know my love will go in vain,  
and its true I won’t have anything to gain..  
These people would call me nuts,  
but I know I can never have the guts..  
You would be gone out of my life,  
it would hurt me at first but then I'll be alright..  
Thoughts would race through to and fro my head,  
old memories will also be played..  

This thought of being left alone would also make me so afraid  
I would be so sad and depressed,  
All I would need is a long-long rest..  
I would be gone to sleep at night,  
but with my dreams I can never fight..  
I would just think of you lying in the bed,  
and would wonder if there was anything I could have said..  

I'll wish you were still here,  
but I know you will never care..  
I'll love you more then you know,  
I would just wish you didn’t have to go..  
And now I just want one more day with you,  
just hoping that you must have wanted this too...........!
Sammie Jul 2017
I don't wanna stop by
But still wanna say hie...
Cuz I wanna keep moving and never stop
Even when I reach the utmost top
All I would wish for you would be a sweet smile on your face
Even when I would be running in a long long race
You won't be next to me, and I would be away
But never in your memories fade me away....
Lyn-Purcell Jul 2017
When one is treated
poorly, lesser than human
It becomes their truth

And it affects them
Crippling their good spirit
Stripping the colours

No matter the race
No matter what they believe
They are still human

Look at their beauty
That radiance that's within
Deeper than their skin

Black, White, Asian, Mixed
Yes, culturally different
But born of one race

We are all human
Don't remain blind in one eye
Embrace all of us
In a world of such tension, it pains me to see division...
The world becomes more and more ugly by the day. People forget thee beauty that is all around us...
Janine Jacobs Jul 2017
i hate layovers, the long stops
the nothingness of the in betweens
suffocating of boredom
surrounded by strangers
all anxiously waiting

there is a universal oneness here
regardless of race, religion or age
something which everyone endures
a temporary pause in time
where reflection is forced upon us

reminiscing of what we bid farewell to
and the hope, love, fear or excitement
awaiting us at our next stop
Layover at Istanbul after my Europe trip. Waited four hours for my next flight home to Cape Town, SA. Wrote this to pass the time
Jae Jul 2017
Everybody loves coffee
It became Miguel's song
But everyone needs a whole lotta milk in it
They can't handle it strong

When I say strong I mean black
Black has a very wide range
Everyone loves the light end of the spectrum
And I find that quite strange

Tanned and caramel are popular
They are exotic and ****
But chocolate is not attractive
Apparently dark is ugly

Being dark-skinned is looked down upon
As if it is a deadly sin
Many many beautiful women
Feel the need to bleach their skin

Many men have a light preference
Some women reject melanin in chocolate genes
And it is these same people
That do not know how to treat kings and queens  

Dark people hate how they look
Because no one gives them a reason not to
They should be taught to love themselves
There is undeniable beauty in African roots

They have hair like fluffy cotton candy
Those with the skin of midnight
They do not need makeup
For they have a natural highlight

Their wide noses are cuter than buttons
And they glisten just when they sweat
If you are lucky enough to kiss their thick lips
You will surely never forget

No one is shaming other skin tones
The point is that dark skin is gorgeous too
Every single person is beautiful
So don't make coffee turn blue

There should not have been a need
For this poem to be written
Because at the end of the day
Beauty shouldn't correlate with the color of your skin
David Hutton Jul 2017
You see my face and race comes first.
I walk around and I feel cursed.
You greet me with "Ni hao!",
expect me to take a bow?
I filled the bathtub; go in headfirst.
Writing poems is always the best way to let off steam.
Arnauld Jarvis Jun 2017
Let's have some coffee, shall not we?
Are you hungry?
No, why?
You have a playful deluge to propagate, do not you?
Your eyes blaze vividly like sky
And? The whole street's quivering by luxurious lights
The clouds strive to squeeze amongst each other
What's recrudescing?
Get up! thunders doodle  the sands
I got bored of coffee
With such clouds amidst the sun'll be discombobulated
Are my eyes still blazing?
Oh, stop chuckling
It's not me! listen! the wind blubbers and woes don't you wonder why,?
A blizzard's ambulating?
Observe those odd bolts!
Want to race?
You think you'll be rejuvenated?
By the inception sunshine, wasn't we to bloom blows?
How bizarre now! you forgot the cup of yours
I'll imbibe love without you! will you please, catch me?
If I don't want to scratch me!
Your kiss mangles me delicately
Look.. I believe I cannot inhale
The billows of zest, touchy how you are!
The sea becomes boring to behold
It's whether we play or hunt
Dull, warm lasting not night
Hold my hand
What? we'll in such transcendence, dance?
Increasingly
Let's demonstrate our demons
You are drunk bliss
Some coffee?
It's a pulchritudinous oblivion! no
You utilise love as toy
I just connect the tiles
It was not  only the sun who was discombobulated.Thanks for perusing it.
Next page