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victoria Jun 6
Poem- To the past & present

Hanging from the shame
Of my privileged supremisist height
Choking on the knowledge
That until now
I didn't fight

Eyes silenced hard
From systemic white view
All lives don't matter
Until your lives matter too

A product of white history
I wish I could reverse
Where all mankind are equal
For real not just in verse

Anger and great shame
come banging on my soul
Prejudiced leden centuries
and inhumane forms of control

I promise from today
Your fight becomes my fight too
I pray you'll accept from my heart
This apology to you..........

-  I am sorry
I am sorry on behalf of my ancestors and the part of history that affects you.
I am sorry for any part I may have played through being only Non-racist instead of Anti-racist.
I am sorry that I didn't educate myself earlier.
I am sorry that it has taken yet another death, for me to stand up and fight.
I have always shot down racism with my words, but I have failed to completely understand it.
For these and more that I still have to learn, I am sorry.
Dimitri Ali May 25
We cya do what we wah do,
Everybody have something tuh say.
When yuh try tuh try and try yuh best,
Yuh make next to nothing at the end of the day.

Meh empty bed does laugh at me,
De late hours of de night,
Spent leaned over de work desk being whipped by worries.
Just to get those blue bills that sweet sight.

Yuh see meh fren, slavery is alive and well,
It does just wear a suit and ride in luxary,
Yuh does be quick to buy wah it sell.
Modern day slavery is why we go continue to live in poverty.

Argue amongst we selves as tuh who better,
The 'coolie indian' or the 'hard back creole'
PNM or the UNC,
We argue as to who is de biggest *******,
But them making ******* outta all ah we.

Watch de high prices, de crime, an de struggle,
Yuh feel they give ah dam about we,
Lemme tell yuh, is you fuh you an I fuh I an we go never be we.
Dem hav we so, can't even afford ah nuggle.

Buh we does fett de hardest tho,
We does wine the baddest tho,
We does horn down to the dog tho,
An nobody does do carnival like we!
Ah pride dat is always by yuh side nationwide!

We does take pride in de wrong ting,
We does **** one another, theif and cheat one another.
While Dem ha we like slaves still,
And we grinding slow but still,
We does grind in the old slave mill.
A poem written in Trinidadian creole about segregation and modern slavery from a trini's perspective.
annh Jun 2019
Honey-flowing rivulets of jazz-beaten syncope,
Trumpets blowing smoke across the room,
‘Curveball’ Sammy hustles bass behind the bar,
Snares his songbird in a played back loop.

Harlem shufflers work the floor, breaking safe,
Clave rhythm scufflers with a New York twist,
Black keys write with borrowed brass on iv’ry walls,
Pick the lock on a swelt’ring southern riff.
‘If you have to ask what jazz is, you’ll never know.’
- Louis Armstrong
Juan Bot Feb 2019
Little John lived up the hill.
Where the birds flew under his legs
and the dust rolled off his porch.

John would not live to meet the gaze
of a tall woman,
Shaniqua.

Her braids flapped in the direction of the wind.
Her cheeks turned red when he saw little John's shadow.
Her eyes began tearing when she saw little John's body,
Arms sprawled over the top of the hill,
As if hugging Mother Earth.

A parallel line of red gashes surround his back.
Slavery is never good.
You asked me about my homeland,
But I refused to tell you.
The confinement of words is not enough to express the tangible freedom this city radiates.
You know what they say, seeing is believing.
So accompany to Devil's Peak where the smoke of perseverance will fill our lungs and clear our heads.
Let me take you to the beach where the smell of inequality and segregation still lingers in the air.
Let us stand atop Lion's Head, listening to the long forgotten roars of triumph from moments passed.
We'll take the Red Bus and discover so many wonderfull places.
You wouldn't be able to resist falling in love with this city.
Let us stand atop Table Mountain, taking in the beauty this city has to offer, breathing in the smell of fynbos.
We'll leap with the springboks,
Hunt with the lions,
And paint the sky with the Blue Cranes.
We'll look back on 1994 and relish in the improvement this city has undergone.
The lights of the city burn bright when the sun sets.
It will always lead us back home.
Lastly, come with me to District Six, where the houses represents just how much of a Rainbow nation we are.

This is South Africa.
This is Cape Town.
This is freedom.
This poem was written about my home, Cape Town, South Africa, for Heritage Day.
Desmond the poet Sep 2017
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.
Svode Mar 2018
Castigate!
Fill with hate!
Expose their views
at any rate!

Interrogate!
Segregate!
Expose their lives
at any rate!

Disintegrate!
Celebrate!
Expose your own life
at any rate!
BWriter Jan 2018
All these years have passed and still nothing has changed,
So we have to march,
Against the abomination of colour segregation,
I'm just tired of all the lies I want to know what's real,
If I stand by your side will you show me the deal?
I’ve got the moon and the stars beneath my feet,
Will that be enough to free my speech?
Tried to climb peaks that were placed deliberately out of our reach,
They envy my life but I envy theirs,
Heaven looks great until you have to climb the stairs,
I capture my emotions in a liquor potion,
It's all good swimming with your tears in the ocean,
And if I can sleep tonight,
I'll let them know I wasn't afraid of the light,
Can you feel the fluttering inside?
Just come lay with me on my side,
And let's both watch the butterflies fly out of our eyes.
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