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Mario Cervantes Mar 2016
Skin I choose to live in
Skin I lose when living
Skin we love we feel
Skin we hate we ****
Skin some old some young
Skin some sold some hung
Skin the largest ***** on our body
Skin the largest reason we're divided
Skin a pigment of our imagination
Skin a figment of our imagination
Skin your skin my skin feels the same
Skin my skin your skin tales of shame
Skin in it we mourn we cry
Skin in it we born we die
Skin that shields my soul
Skin that takes control
Skin we must look beyond
Skin just a phenomenon
Skin your skin my skin bruce alike
Skin your skin my skin same at night
Anjana Rao Mar 2016
To be brown is to
know racism in every shade -
internal,
or
external,
microaggression
or
aggression.

To be brown is
an inquisition,
every time you step foot outside –
“What are you?”
“What does your name mean?”
“Have you tried that restaurant?”
“Have you been back?
“What religion are you?”
“Say something in your language!”


To be brown is
the shame
of either
too much
or not enough,
that you try to
press down, ignore,
forget about -
don’t be so sensitive.

To be brown is
an investment,
the way you are always supposed to
rise and rise and rise,
have the opportunities of the west
and the values of the east,
marry a nice brown heterosexual,
go to graduate school,
have a good career,
earn more money than your parents did,
be safe and settled,
provide for your parents,
your parents,
who only pressure you
and push you
because they want you to be

happy.

To be brown is
diaspora,
the way your tongue
trips over the words of native languages
you never grew up speaking
because English was always taught
first
to generations before you,
the way you weren’t born with
any real community,
and even now
most of your friends
are white,
the way
you have to move in the world
hearing your name
mispronounced in every way imaginable,
the way you
scan the room
for any brown face
because you know
a brown person will
understand,
the way you realize
how often you are the only
brown body
in any space,
queer or straight,
the way you really are a
minority.

To be brown is
reclamation,
the way you learn to
find beauty in the brown and the hair
and the body type,
the way you learn to
let yourself feel Anger
at appropriation,
the way you learn to fight
for identity –
correct the mispronunciations
learn the language,
listen to the music,
cook the food,
wear the clothes,
go back to the country
learn the history,
do what you need to do
in your
imperfect
perfect
way,
****
what anyone says.

To be brown
is to be
enough.
Damian Murphy Feb 2016
Lesbian, bisexual, transgender, gay
What are they all only labels anyway?
Nowt of individuals do labels say,
Truth be told all they do is get in the way!
What is it with this need to put labels on?
What we really need is to see the person!
To judge others only by labels given
Is stupidity, hard to be forgiven.
So it is with gender, race, colour or creed;
And all other labels we just do not need.
LGBT is, I believe, the correct acronym, mixed up deliberately to show my disdain for labels.....
I have a question? What do you see when you look at me?
A man, ***** hair, that I'm black,my croocked smile Or my poetry?
I see ,when i look upon others, an empty room ,A new plain of existence just for us two.
I say room because of the mental constructs that are divisions
Race
Nationality
Class
Religion
Its not I'm me and you are you
It should be we,banded together just to get through,
Our lives.
We differ by so little,
Why we make the small contol us is a riddle.
I have a question why do so few know of the moors?
we don't know ourselves that's why we feel we need more and more.
Why is it when we try and impress others we are frantic,
But when I am proud of my history I'm afrocentric?
I'm not pro any race unless you are talking the human race but even if thats the case the problem we face is that we feel like we are in a better place then those who live on the same plain,same world, same pace.
The animals the plants we all come from the same soil and look how we've been spoiled with abundance but that does not warrent our decadence.
We have to destroy these  edifice
Errected using false truthes,  fear, blood and sacrifice.
Why is so much hidden
Why is the topic of civilized color forbidden?
Why do you have to be better?
Who are you trying to be better than?
Where is the quantified data?
Why can't we just be human?
I wrote this to vent. Had certain encounters with people which showed me this is still a problem, race. i don't understand why people dont learn more about themselves and others before making swinging ignorant statements.
S Feb 2016
You’re treading water, tantalizing your audience as they watch you sink deeper and deeper into the ocean.  They want you to fail as your vision blurs and your limbs shrivel with exhaustion.  You watch their pale faces with painted on smiles and take one last breath as you plunge into oblivion.  
But I don’t want you to go like that.  

I want to give you iridescent pearls so that when you take your last breath you feel beautiful and hold that breath in your heart until your posture becomes so confident that you finally know your worth.  I want you to believe that a white washed world isn't a “right” one but instead one that has become accepted by the same society that told you 245 years ago that you were property and your purpose in life was to serve those without melanin in their skin but steel in their hearts.  And the only difference between being branded by your slave owner is that now you pay $250 for that brand new pair of Jordans and participate in a sport where your leaders more often than not refuse to respect you as an individual but instead as a number followed by a k that can make them rich and you in pain.  

But you will succeed and no one will ever pierce your ebony skin because I promise you, I promise you that you are a speck of galaxy in world of pure Crayola.  You are brown, intelligent, and tall in a generation of ignorance of the fact that Michael Jackson wasn't trying to communicate to a certain race but instead a feeling but we associate everything with race.  When I am emotional I tend to not make sense but the thing is that YOU make sense so hold the microphone and speak to the world and one day instead of Martin Luther King being a memorial it will just be. To be.  

The only thing that scares me is that your night terrors tend to take place in front of mirrors where I cant protect you from shards of glass breaking your skin and tearing your self esteem apart.  And when you walk on graduation day and a white male hands you your diploma say thank you with your mouth and I made it with your eyes and then turn to your mom and hug her because in two years as you walk down the street in a dress suit and nice shoes instead of Jordans you realize that most of communication between the white male is non-verbal and all he's saying is, “get out” “you do NOT belong”.  They think it’s appropriate to act this way because the howl of your skin breeds intimidation and it is sadly accepted to just shoot
— you
not that it matters anyway

in this moment I want you to remember when you were seven years old and you rubbed white lotion into your knees thinking it would make your skin lighter your life lighter your problem lighter.  It didn’t.  Hold your head high for that seven year old now 27 year old brown child.
                                                                                            

And one day you will be happy because you are happy when you are loved.  So many in this world neglect you but love your culture.  Each year you complain about your routine becoming routine but go ahead and cry about your life because I know the zest in your tears reminds you of your Grandfathers cologne.  And I want you to start over, say hello to yourself.  Take a step back and bask in your beauty because that is you and you are close to perfect.  You can be magic.  

Touch the heart of the world and make it smile.  Marry a moonbeam and hear the stars sing and don’t let the monsters in your head ruin your dreams.  And the people who don’t want you to succeed you need to destroy them in the most beautiful way possible.  And when you leave them for something greater they will finally understand why storms are named after people.
Your race,
Your pace!
This is the best way to sum up your life, at any given point. You're not competing with anyone, you're not doing what everyone else is doing...
You are running your own race and only you can determine how long it should take for you to reach the finish line...if there is even one.
Dougie Simps Feb 2016
Hmm so here's a message.
a message that starts off as something I can't finish
where half of my mixed race can't prosper nor replenish
I died too with "I CAN'T BREATH" I begged too on my knees
to not be a privileged monkey who needs to put on a show for you all to be pleased.  I cough out these words and ya think it's a disease...
But the truth is you motherf#$8*rs are just afraid of me.
I don't blame ya. Enough knowledge to mentally enslave ya
free all my people and throw you all in cages
get how we feel? oh wait i got another half. The kind to walk peacefully and enjoy society as I laugh..
sit in Christ's bath but we was all created equal? tell that to my mixed born as they have to endures life's sequel. TELL EM
Fine I guess I will as I press rewind and tell them of a time where people were unequally designed and the designer might've been blind but sacrificed himself only to cover a lie. OH MY OH MY.
Let me clear my throat so I can preach. What happened to practice what you teach? This all went gone when the man fell upon wanting his dream. But he had a dream and I have a thought... walking around the spotlights because every step I take is distort, and if I accidentally walk into the spotlight they'll probably put me in chains. I'd scream "I'm one of you!" but they'll tell me my other half is to blame as I reminisce of the chains that makes me feel like a slave as I curse out Jesus name BUT he can't quite understand and blocks out my call and watches as we all walk and BANG BANG BANG shoot each other, another home with a divorce, another woman getting destroyed by a weak man who can't control his hand a had to much at the bar and views still distort another politician sitting getting rich as he grabs hold of the assistant and tells her to touch his, dictation in this nation as we cry for discrimination of ideas that are corrupt AND A WORLD DIVIDED BY RACIST for blacks, whites and all, ignorance has no color. The law is taking shots as the people all **** each other. Don't listen to me for I'm just a civilian, who sits down and hopes for better days of our children and change minds of the millions. We'll never see eye to eye. I just wanted an A for effort and Absolutely knew I had to try as I watch more people die and see more mothers cry, blocks, glocks and shots and people standing asking out "why?"
when did the love die? 400 years we rewind. Where things weren't clear and not much was fair but this is life and life does to us what we can't bare. I see nothing but hate, I see love trying to recreate a time when we were young and didn't care about race. Kids playing in the sand that showed love and open hands to join close together and didn't really give a ****. Time is slowly ticking, seconds now turning into minutes...Please, we need to end this war before life itself is finally diminished.
This isn't about race, it isn't about hate. It's about love, power and unity before it's all over...and too late.
So as you look at life's finish line - I beg you...don't finish the race.




Praise to the highest for I can't speak for  you. I follow your road you present to us in hope to find the purity that life truly gives. For my enemies I forgive and for my words are only the truth. Win or lose I will only spread love and peace to try and finish what it is you wanted us to be. A civilized group of people for each others eyes we see. While we may not all agree I believe in the art of compromise and hope to spread the word so may look into another eyes. For I am just one single man whose trying to balance my mistakes and carry your message all in a single hand. All while hoping not to fail. Amen.
I can feel this one getting a feedback that I expected. This is a piece from someone who is of mixed race and tells both sides of the story only to say what he truly wants...Peace and love. Enjoy and have an open mind. It's writing not war.
Breanna Stockham Feb 2016
If it wasn't
Race or religion
It would be something else
It's one big competition

We're living in the Darwin days
Survival of the fittest
As if we don't all deserve
To have equal chances

We're breaking ladders
Instead of building them taller
Instead of working toward growth
We make others smaller

Can't get anywhere
If we're tripping each other
But how far we could go
If we worked together

Start building, not breaking
We'll get so much further
One mile alone
One hundred miles together
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