#race poems on Hello Poetry

Samuel Fox Apr 2016

the patrol car has left the block once more,
a bull shark circling
nearer to some shore, headlights
blared, a black silhouette steering the vehicle;

night kisses the horizon, pecks it sharp
like a bullet case
scraping the darkling pavement,
only the whitest stars visible above.

many like me stroll sidewalks at this hour,
smoking a stogie
or sitting on empty swings
in playgrounds vacant of laughter; it is better

that children sleep while they can and can dream
before the true night,
that blight of bruise blue, sirens
wailing on their way to steal away some dark man

from the streets. where I stand on an apartment stoop
I count the vehicle
for the fourth time, lurking
out around the corner, like a wolf dressed metallic.

nothing gets better come nightfall. nothing
gets done while asleep.
i slip on my shadow, hood
dark, concealing my face. lean back into the steps

and light another cigarette. inhale.
exhale. most don’t have
to worry: their paleness turns
them ghostly, invisible, to the patrolling cars.

but I wear my darkness. i wish I knew
how to make sparks fly,
have them issue from throat, crack
into splinters of glass. the law tells me to sit

but I refuse. i am a phosphorus
fuse; i am whitened;
but i am impoverished,
and I too have my own reasons to be frightened.

#race #poverty #blackness #brutality #whiteness #raleigh

Quisha Apr 2016

Nah

Nah, just koz that is who SHE be
Does not mean SHE get to treat ME
However the **** SHE want

Nah, that's just not ME, Bee
I heard somewhere I was free, see
Not just YOU that gets to breathe ease-y

'Less pigment based privilege
Affords you your discourse...
Nah.

#pain #hurt #society #reflection #race #optimism #identity #bullying #discrimination #england

Ananya zootz Apr 2016

Second

Ever wondered how does that person breaks who is second? The one who couldn't win because he missed with a few points? The one who is left behind because he didn't compare to the winner? No, and his devastation is the biggest heartbreak because he was everything the winner was, and just a little less, and the greatest loss felt is by him and not the person last in race. His determination was that of winner and yet no one's going to remember him but only the winner

#remember #feeling #race #devastation #unwanted #second #winner #unsatiated #determinition #failire

Carl Webb II Apr 2016

Race to the Top

A facade is all it is, a facade is all it ever will be.
This costume placed upon me by the standards of society to hide my inner being, to disguise my outward appearance, to dim the lights too bright to shine upon the eyes of the world, is strangling my soul.
I try to shed this outfit, piece by piece.
First goes the shoes, made of stone so heavy as to hinder me from ever taking a forward step on the road to success.
The pants go next, designed with the softest of material, extra cushion where it counts the most, no wonder I've been so comfortable just sitting on my ***.
Naturally I now begin to rip off the layers of jackets and coats and shirts, originally placed upon myself to stay warm and safe in this cold, cold world full of harsh words and even harsher beatings. All the while not realizing what I've been hiding all along, my heart and soul.
I now feel free enough to stand with my brethren.
I can see my skin, black as night, different from the rest but they still welcome me in, so I go.
I pull up a chair to sit at my rightful place at the round table, to finally join in the conversation that I've missed out on for so long.
But I can't understand the discussion.
These words that they speak, I cannot seem to make sense of.
I've been deemed as dumb and placed outside of the circle.
I've been betrayed.
But, just as I begin to plan my revenge, I realize the piece of clothing I forgot to remove: my hat.
My lucky hat, or so they told me.
I was told that nothing can penetrate it, however it is the exact opposite: nothing can escape.
My mind has been blocked, my thoughts, my ideas, all of my capabilities cut off from the world.
Once removed I can finally be free!
The rest of the group has now realized my discovery, their eyes fill with terror as they scramble towards me.
I reach for my head, they reach for my arms.

#society #race

Quisha Apr 2016

What I am

I am, what I am,
You say what you say,
But I am what I am.

And I'll do what I do,
Koz I am, what I am
I will not be, no fool, for you.

#love #life #reflection #head #race #existence #acceptance #discrimination

Isabelle Apr 2016

Race to the Top

Everybody is running
it is a race to the top
be careful with the cunning
and be ready for a flop

Because it is a race to the top
You'll be needing a strategy
either a friend or an enemy
that soon you will drop
because of jealousy

Some will pass you by
then stub you in the eye
Some will push you down
then will take your crown
Some will lend a hand
only to drop you and it's planned

The way to the summit
will never be facile
sure there are scummy
do not be fragile

That is the way to the top
Just play the game
clean and *****
it will never be fair

Another old poem of mine. It speaks reality.

#race #top #fair #challenge #cunning

J Nc Apr 2016

Pursuit

Each thing I do I rush through so I can do
something else. In such a way do the days pass—
a blend of stock car racing and the never
ending building of a gothic cathedral.
Through the windows of my speeding car, I see
all that I love falling away: books unread,
jokes untold, landscapes unvisited. And why?
What treasure do I expect in my future?
Rather it is the confusion of childhood
loping behind me, the chaos in the mind,
the failure chipping away at each success.
Glancing over my shoulder I see its shape
and so move forward, as someone in the woods
at night might hear the sound of approaching feet
and stop to listen; then, instead of silence
he hears some creature trying to be silent.
What else can he do but run? Rushing blindly
down the path, stumbling, struck in the face by sticks;
the other ever closer, yet not really
hurrying or out of breath, teasing its ****.

-Stephen Dobyns

One of my all time favorite writings

#love #life #death #time #stop #race #advice #rush #classic #hurry

Jayce Apr 2016

The Color of my Skin Poses a Question

What I want to know is why?
Why am I told to remember the tragedy of 9/11, but when I bring up the tragedy of my people once enslaved, I am told that it was years ago and I should “get over it”?
Why when I make a joke at a Caucasian friend’s expense does his face grow disgusted and he spats the word racist at me, then turns around and make a joke at a black man’s expense and expects me to laugh?
Why am I told that I am “boring” or that “no one likes being around an angry black woman” when I rise up to speak about the obstacles all people of color face in the modern society?
Why is it that my Caucasian friends are allowed to rely stories of being called racist with voices grim and shocked, but if I ask, “Well, were you being racist?” they look at me as if I’ve offended them?
Why is it a normal thing for people of color to rise and speak about their experiences of being a minority, only to have a Caucasian person slap a metaphorical hand over their mouth by saying, “You’re not the only one who’s experienced racism”?
Why as a child growing up was I taught by society that darker skin was less desirable, that if I was dark I shouldn’t wear pastel bright colors, that my blackness isn’t worshipped, but now in modern day society I am forced to watch Caucasians wear weave, get braids, do things they consider “being black” and have praise rain down on them?
Why should I have to listen to my Caucasian friends use the word “*****” as if their ancestors didn’t pronounce the word the same way someone would call a dog a mutt?
Why when I asked my Caucasian friend to explain why her crush wasn’t her type, she mentioned his blackness not as a worry that someone might not agree, or because years ago it wouldn’t be allowed, or as a concern that the way the modern world seems to be against him, but as if his blackness deemed him less dateable?
Why?

#race #racism #poc

Mark Lecuona Apr 2016

Point of View

How can we forget who died trying to make us equal
Somebody said it’s up to you to make it happen
But you don’t know what you would do laying in your crib
Would you make mud out of dirt floors in your mansion?

It wasn’t a made-up soul standing on the corner
Though you thought he was dead in his mother’s womb
She gave birth in a world that didn’t want him to live
But the song he once sang echoes in our own tomb

The voices of the past continue to haunt our thoughts
Yet the dead remain mute leaving us with our own cries
We read their words and wait for a stillborn prophecy’s birth
As the day ends the sun laughs through sacrificial eyes

The floor rises as each page is ripped from the book of life
Who watches while I decide between penance or desires?
What piper would play two songs when only one can be heard?
We await the answer hoping it's the one our heart requires

#race #mlk

NeroameeAlucard Mar 2016

Disheartened

As a black guy,
No, no as a black man
I feel disheartened often
Not just by media or pressure at home
Or at the office
But by our chocolate to caramel skinned sisters at times
How? Well allow me to describe this through rhyme.

I know we guys can be a//holes at times
But forever saying we aren't anything drills into our minds.
And if you wanna avoid a heartbreak then here's what I suggest,
Pray over it, then consider your options like an instagram or Snapchat post at best

And moving on if you complain about the selection among your ethnicity
Then get mad when we say "Enough of this" and date outside that group that doesn't make sense to me
Fact is there's a stigma around mixed relationships

If someone makes you happy, no matter what their skin color then why trip? Let them be happy

#love #life #race #socialcomments