The burning sensation of those word were hard to digest Sorrow, Tear, How **** can I be Black is Beauty I say…to whom they say
Midnight! Midnight!.. you are as dark as Midnight I'm haunted by those words, As they stuck to me like fresh sap from a tree.. I’m drowning, I’m drowning, I can’t get free, those words will forever trail me..
They trailed me; they jarred me, Blackie Tutu! Blackie Tutu! How can kids be so cruel using skin color as a tool I held my own and stayed cool for I knew has long I was in this school my fate was doom.
Pickey-Pickey head! was the melody of the song I listened allowing the word to sink into my soul The beat made me sick and I knew this one would also stick I Looked up to the sky wondering why No! No! No! Woman don’t cry Be an African and hold your pride…
Hands by my side, I held my head up high I found the fight within me, Stone faced Killer bee I faced the music and it set me free On the attack I had them flee…using word to conquer thee I carried on knowing freedom wasn’t free and then Like bolt of lightning it occurred me To defeat them I had to BELIEVE in ME
He approaches, from a completely different background. He sees an odd, irregular image Minding its own business.
He approaches and the image moves. The irregular image faces him as he admires it. It is smothered in beauty, So much, but he doesn't understand it.
She, the image, sees him too. She falls in love with his body's outline, But when he steps into the light, She doesn't understand her love anymore.
Mutual love was clouded by race.
Eventually, they learned to love their differences. They created art through their differences; Contrasting colours thrived in their newly ordained similarities - obtained through love.
Multi-racial relationships are the artwork of humankind.
Multi-racial relationships excite me. They remind me that even the most different people can still thrive together despite their differences. But, I'm not one to partake because I feel that it's too much for me. There's a huge amount of responsibility needed in respect and consideration.
How do you make your rice? is it in a ***? a pan? steamed? heated? not at all?
mine is in a frying ***.
Yellow, with pollo from the fresh market. Peas, y frijoles on the side.
Mix it up, eat it, keep it for later.
Burn the bottom so you can get la chemada part.
If you like the chemada part, not everyone does.
A poem about my personal views on American society. How a bunch of different cultures live together which is why I make references to rice, as different types of rice making shows what culture you come from. I say I like mine in a "frying ***" because that's how I see America, a frying *** and not a "melting ***" as they say. Whereas a melting *** mixes cultures well, a frying *** keeps people at the bottom "burnt" like "chemada" (burnt rice at the bottom of the pan).
Oh, you seed of mankind. You who reside in the same Coloured white *****. You carry the ***-determining chromosome. Before union with female egg, human colour was same. After fertilization, emerged different coloured humans.
Oh melanin, you who determine our skin colour. You went as far as differentiating our hair colour. What have you done? Are you to blame for racial discrimination? Maybe blame theory of evolution.
Oh no I blame you mankind. God gave men brains of a kind. The kind, that knows wrong from right. In the image of God, mankind was created. Colour was not restricted.
I urge mankind across all racial groups. A plead to all *** groups.
There’s more to what you see in the mirror. It was microscopically a seed within white *****. We might differ racially, men and women. We came from same coloured seed.
In this place we call home I swear none of us have the right morals to look up to and we’re all on social media wishing for acceptance in the for of likes and followers and views and friends on snapchat. In this place we call home were banning people from their dreams and are taken away from their families and are laughed at because of their color on the outside and not by the inside on the space of their hearts and is separated by who they pray to and how they celebrate their life. In this place we call home, we all have messed up minds.
the words just kinda flowed out of me and this is what happened
My burden is too heavy to carry People of my race are dying One can't walk on the side of the road without having a bullet pierce through their melanin bodies Chocolate, Caramel, or brown sugar I can't accept the violence SUPPRESS THIS ISSUE ! I demand sacrifice to the wrong guidance 'Cause I can't sit and cry with a tissue preparing a eulogy for my blood brother and sister who've been shot by the minority I step foot on this ground and declare an apology ***** me not for I am a human THAT IS BLACK Can't you see the protests ? This is not a contest What happened to the freedom knot ?
Equality and diversity? - I can't accept the current adversity Rights and responsibilities? - But black beings are bein exposed to vulnerability Rules and regulations? - I thought we had amalgamation