#racial poems on Hello Poetry

Brent Kincaid Oct 2016

This is the tale of the
Kid’s doll, the wallygog.
A doll meant to look like
A pale pitiful human hog
With a clammy white body
With wimpy yellow hair
And blue button eyes,
And cotton belly to spare.

It is so unattractive that
It must be that this toy
Is meant to insult them,
White girls and boys,
So that playing with it
Puts them in their place
As objects of ridicule
Laughs in the white face.

Because look how sad,
With wan sewn-open lips
And imitation Gap clothes
Sewn to shoulder and hip.
How foolish and rude
Is this toy made by fools.
Who can truly ignore
What is meant by this tool?

Yet is so popular now
The silly Wallygog today;
Some children refuse
As they grow, to set it away.
They carry it around
And it leaves me agog
That they never understand
What it means, this Wallygog.

#poetry #doll #parenting #slur #polliwog #racial #kincaid

goddess Jul 2016

dear...

dear young black girls,
i'm sorry that you cannot turn on the TV and see black female role models.
i'm so sorry that you are constantly being shamed for your natural features.
sorry that you're constantly under the pressure to comply with eurocentric beauty standards.
your skin color is a blessing.
your hair is beautiful.
do not change anything about yourself for the sake of the way society views you.
dear young black boys,
i'm sorry that your constantly seen as a threat to those around you.
i'm so sorry that you cannot gather in in a group with all of your peers without the fear that you're going to be accused of doing wrong.
sorry that society will someday see you as a "deadbeat dad" and someone who won't be able to provide for himself, much less his family.
your skin color is beautiful.
ignore everyone, keep up the good work, you will be successful.
you bleed the same color as every other human being on this planet and i am so sorry that has not yet been recognized after how many years?
irrelevant.
you are loved, you are wonderful, you are talented, you are unique.
follow your dreams.
be ambitious.
fight for your beliefs.
stand your ground.
justice will be served.
change will come.

#love #black #equality #dear #humans #colored #minorities #racial #blm

YieShawn Scutt Mar 2016

I am America

I almost made it to the finish line
but somewhere along I took a wrong turn
segregation’s aftermath still lingering

self inflicted prejudice over one’s skin abstained
self antagonism over one’s curl pattern deeply rooted
self oppugnancy over one’s own race persistent

I know I’m not on the right course
yet blindly I continue
shackling the dependent to me
as i spiral down this cascade

too intimidated to speak out
too worried about social acceptance
too cowardly to admit it

taught that color coding is inferior
but favoritism to a specific color is acceptable

I see police brutality to a specific race
whereas other countries see
Americans killing other Americans

Republicans and Democrats both preach unity
Yet stand divided in one house
but I’m in constant denial
because I was raised as a hypocrite

I want change
but only half of me is willing to fish for that change

it wasn't always the way
minorities didn’t have a voice
so they fought for one

generations later they hoard that voice
locked in a shed
collecting dust

My people have the tools
therefore
don't be fooled
because it’s only a matter of time
before they put them to use
and mold a beautiful sculpture

#poetry #america #line #color #finish #prejudice #discrimination #iron #coding #racial

Mario Cervantes Mar 2016

Skin

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

#love #peace #world #people #skin #race #equality #racial

Deontra' Demeritte Feb 2016

Journal Entry #4 Black Magic

Black girl roots.
Black girl magic, stemming from their black girl roots.
From their magical skin, full lips and hips, beautiful roots of their hair
Is the genetic anatomy of a black female that incomprehensible?
Full lips on display lined with collagen filled comments,
the peanut gallery of social media filled with distasteful outrage by the same things they inject to achieve yet,
riots on social media streets over the distasteful cultural misappropriation of all that is black yet,
It's distasteful to live somewhere, to live here, beautiful islands bathed in sun and filled with black people that aren't even conscious of their background...that aren't conscious of their 'blackness'.
To be so ashamed of their blackness. Their very roots.

Ashamed of their roots.  What a time to be ignorant Trevor.
Black History Month is now, yet there’s a rampage to eradicate the very aesthetics of blackness rather than appreciate them.
Dear colonialized principal of C.R. Walker High School, quit.
Dr. Claudius Roland Walker, the school’s namesake, built a hotel for blacks who were being discriminated against and
I imagine he would build a coffin for your revulsion of all things black,
We’ve moved past your self-hate and the disdain you have for your very roots.
Black hair is beautiful and can never be unkempt. Let me say that again.
Black hair is beautiful and can never be unkempt.
Black hair is a statement that you and nobody that inhabits
this dying planet has the authority to deem untidy or inappropriate.
It took our ancestors far too long to comb through fields of complications
the root being wearing their natural hair and through natural hair movements
to have some nescient minded leader deem it disheveled.
Our roots have permitted our black skin magic, we absorb the rays of the sun,
magicians, and for my final trick, watch my skin glow like gold
dripping like wet paint onto a canvas of unfinished art
left behind by our old souls.

Oh my black people,
a juxtaposition of media sensationalism led by governmental lies, descendents of slave owners insisting that our black hair is something to be ashamed of,
it seems we have our heads so far up our own *****
we're getting too used to the essence of sh-t.
Then the chant goes up, the battle cry,
"This isn't the United States, there's no misogyny, there's no racism, there's no-"
Shut-up.
"Are you angry?"
No, I'm black and I'm angry!

Our mindsets rooted in the prevalence of self hatred, leaves of mighty oaks desperate to remove themselves from their very roots,
requesting emancipation from the very ones that have us enslaved,
begging to be cut loose from the European hand
consciously and subconsciously unshackling the left as we tie the right.
but where are you going?
When has a plant ever survived without its roots?
How dare we neglect the nutrients our ancestors left behind and chase the suicidal pesticide made to eradicate our total being?

Dear god if you're listening, as the cry of former sages went up I also cry,
emancipate yourselves from mental slavery and take me back to my golden home,
where I belong.
Take me back to the very roots I am taught to be ashamed of,
so that I may feel the energy of what once was.
Take me back so that I may cultivate my roots. Take me back so that I may live to tell the truth.
Just take me back.
My people deserve the truth as I find them in the lie,
smearing the proverbial “creamy crack” on hair and skin,
My people deserve more than a painted picture of Cesare Borgia Son Of Alexander Pope 6 as Jesus.
My people deserve to know that Jesus was black and that the Catholics were snakes in the grass abusing their power during their time of reign. Uh oh, the snaps got quiet.
Oh but my people deserve to know that perceived infallible Bible they see today has been edited and destroyed to hide the secrets. Why?
When mama and grammy worship pictures of “Jesus”, why wouldn’t white be right?
Jesus in the pictures mama, he’s a white man, he has straight hair, he’s the savior,
aren’t we supposed to be just like him?
but
Little black girl with your, black girl magic and your,
magical skin, full lips and hips, beautiful roots of your hair
your crown, your skin, is beautiful. Your roots are strong.

Got excellent help from a friend named Gail on this piece.

#poem #poetry #sad #life #mental #black #female #journal #racial #bhm

Brent Kincaid Sep 2015

MATLAW'S

I got off the bus
At Eighteenth and Vine
Everything in the window
I wanted to be mine
Beautiful shirts there,
Suits, shoes and hats.
But I couldn’t buy them
No, I couldn’t do that.

I was the wrong color
For Matlaw’s, He said.
That place was for coloreds
And rich pimps instead
Not a tow-headed white boy
What hasn’t got much sense.
I went there that one time
But, I haven’t been since.

But, oh I wanted that suit,
With cranberry hat and shoes.
Even though I had no place
To ever wear it, I knew.
But, I love that store there
On eighteenth and Vine
Even though I knew nothing
In that store could be mine.

The bus went by there
Every day I passed it by.
To this day, I grieve
And never understood why
A Caucasian market
Like I represented
Might go there inside there
And be soundly resented.

It wasn’t a good thing
It’s just how it was then
Before the civil rights thing
Would finally begin.
But I never knew colors
They way others did.
But, what did I know?
I was just a young kid.

But, oh I wanted that suit,
With cranberry hat and shoes.
Even though I had no place
To ever wear it, I knew.
But, I love that store there
On eighteenth and Vine
Even though I knew nothing
In that store could be mine.

#poetry #prejudice #clothing #brent #racial #kincaid #segregatoin

maxine Jul 2015

Black

When I was 5 I started to put sharpie or pen on my nails to make them black.
And I even recall on one instance where I put mascara in my hair to give myself black streaks.
I now want black stiletto nails, and I know that many others have them, or even just paint their fingernails black.
And it makes me think, black is such a beautiful colour and yet we put down and make fun of the people of that colour.
They can't change it, and they shouldn't have to feel that they must.
Being another colour than white shouldn't be a day to day burden or task.
It should make you feel beautiful and blessed.
But not everyone sees it that way.
It's a shame really, you see so many superb black men and women that stand out in this day and age and community.
And it has been that way for centuries.
Giving us all music to move to and lose ourselves in, books to read (perhaps more than once), movies to watch and adore, and many other things.
And yet people don't realize, they're just HUMAN.
Not having a choice of what pigmentation their skin is.
Being beaten unmercifully, and some being prosecuted not from their actions but because people have come to terms that all of that colour perform the same cruel acts.
Stereotypes;
It's not fair and I refuse to live in a society that is so mean and brutal.
Be nice to people regardless of their skin, the look or feel of it.
Be helpful to those in need regardless if others wouldn't because they have different views than you.
I'm not saying this little collection of words will change the world.
But I'm letting it be known that I myself will not be spiteful towards others that have not been to me.
Just because their skin may shout out because it is darker than others, it doesn't make them less of a person.
You don't want people to be put in boxes and yet you categories them, making them feel small and wrong.
We have come such a long way, not just for this subject but for others.
But I want my voice to be heard and my opinion to be stated.
And for others to not be so crass and quick to judge.
People are people, and deserve to be treated like it.

I don't care if this trends or not, or only gets 50 views, what I do care about is this topic/issue.
I hope you read this through, and I'm not expecting all of you to agree with me... just listen to me.
Because poets write to be heard.
Thank you.

#poem #life #world #thoughts #black #problem #long #racial

Monique Clavier Jun 2015

the confederate states of hypocrisy

these colors don't run, they say
don't tread on me, they say
heritage not hatred, they say
as the blood of our black american children
runs down the drain
and the necks of
muslim men are snapped in the street
and the backs of
hispanic women are broken in the fields
and how can it be "heritage, not hatred"
when the flag of your heritage
is the epitome of hatred?

written in a brief moment of hysteric crying. absolutely no poetic elements to this but rather a trigger reaction to the amount of awful racist *******

#america #usa #race #political #racism #charleston #racial

Mariah L Wallace Apr 2015

"White"

Why am I called "white"?
Why am I an absence of color
To be associated with purity
Flawless innocence
A clean slate

Why am I called "white"
When I have the blood of monsters in my veins
There is nothing immaculate about my heritage
Simply from a lack of pigmentation
My hair is braided with the ******* of masses
My eyes see the broken lives of the oppressed
My ears hear the echoes of homelands invaded
And my hands hold the books with the historic lies enclosed

Why am I called "white"
Compared, as if, to the paper
On which my people's crimes could be written
Repeating so frequently with so many new victims
But we are never called to justice
And the cycle remains unbroken
When we are addressed
We stand up from our thrones, screaming
"Unfair, cruel, why attack me?!
I don't understand, what privilege do you see?!"
We act like the victims, fed by the system
And we eat it up with our metaphoric silver spoons

Why am I called "white"
I've been stained from the years of hatred
Perpetuated by a people who claim guiltlessness
Just because they are a newer generation
What was once called subjugation
Is now appropriation
But both are used to deny culture and rights from nations
But I won't sit by and prolong this delusion that we are any better
Any more beautiful then any other one of God's creations

#poetry #white #slam #racism #privilege #opression #racial

Katy Owens Dec 2014

You Title This

no butterflies in my stomach
I have hands in my chest
grabbing my heart
squeezing it without rest
Crushing me
I'm helpless at best
Tears welling up
salty pieces of soul
filling my eyes
down they roll
You can't ever fully escape
heartbreak
Tears
my broken self spilling out
seeping through my skin
Can't hold it all together
forever
Maybe I'm grateful for
those hands crushing my chest
Don't have to feel all the pain
desperately trying to find rest
But my soul won't stop crying
heart bleeding salty tears down my cheeks
This heartbreak doesn't heal
you just learn to live with the pain

#heartbreak #pain #tears #black #lives #matter #eric #ferguson #garner #racial