#blackgirl - Hello Poetry

She smiles anytime a black girl looks at her, Because she wants her to know that they are one and the same Because she needs her to feel the support that she never had She's the black girl that keeps Malcolm X's autobiography tucked under her armpit And has memorized it word for word for word for word The black girl that reads Maya Angelou religiously, to make sure she never forgets that she is Phenomenal Woman, and that it is, “In the stride of my step” She’s the black girl that keeps her wrists drowning in gold And her neck swimming in it So you can hear her bangles jingling from miles away She keeps her cowrie shell bracelet on because it's her true culture She's the black girl that smells of cocoa butter And has skin as smooth as silk, She is the living embodiment of the word “prosperity” She’s the black girl that values knowledge like a pacifist values peace She knows that knowledge is power, But her blackness is a stronger one.

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Dec 24, 2025

Dec 24, 2025 at 9:22 PM UTC

ahsi

That Black Girl

She smiles anytime a black girl looks at her, Because she wants her to know that they are one and the same Because she needs her to feel the support that she never had She's the black girl that keeps Malcolm X's autobiography tucked under her armpit And has memorized it word for word for word for word The black girl that reads Maya Angelou religiously, to make sure she never forgets that she is Phenomenal Woman, and that it is, “In the stride of my step” She’s the black girl that keeps her wrists drowning in gold And her neck swimming in it So you can hear her bangles jingling from miles away She keeps her cowrie shell bracelet on because it's her true culture She's the black girl that smells of cocoa butter And has skin as smooth as silk, She is the living embodiment of the word “prosperity” She’s the black girl that values knowledge like a pacifist values peace She knows that knowledge is power, But her blackness is a stronger one.

17

Black girl, black girl, look in the mirror. Do you know who that woman is you see? Study her for a few seconds. What do you think of her? Is she to you what she is to others? Anyone can tell you she’s beautiful, but it means nothing if your eyes don’t glisten on their own. Her cheekbones are high and may puff out like that gorgeous afro she rocks when the weather is nice. Black girl, black girl, look in the mirror. Who do you really see? Plump lips, deep brown eyes, and chocolate skin is what you see. But who do you see? She isn’t just any kind of woman. No, no, no That’s a strong woman in that mirror. She has a head on her shoulders filled with positive thoughts. Such as one day making the world hers and inspiring others. You’re looking at a woman who is bad. She knows who she is and she ain’t afraid to be herself. She’s a woman who moves with clarity and purpose. She believes that nothing is impossible for her to do. Is she perfect? Not at all. She’s made mistakes but she’s learned from them and became the woman she stands as today. Black girl, black girl you’re staring at profound greatness and destiny. You forgot who you are so I thought I’d remind you. This world will never keep a strong woman like you down. Look in that mirror and blow a thousand kisses to the woman that you see. Everyday won’t be easy. But you remember who you are and make this world your Queendom beautiful!! -Mia J 7/3/2020 © 2020 Mia J

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May 5, 2025

May 5, 2025 at 4:20 PM UTC

Queen_Sage

Mirror Image

Black girl, black girl, look in the mirror. Do you know who that woman is you see? Study her for a few seconds. What do you think of her? Is she to you what she is to others? Anyone can tell you she’s beautiful, but it means nothing if your eyes don’t glisten on their own. Her cheekbones are high and may puff out like that gorgeous afro she rocks when the weather is nice. Black girl, black girl, look in the mirror. Who do you really see? Plump lips, deep brown eyes, and chocolate skin is what you see. But who do you see? She isn’t just any kind of woman. No, no, no That’s a strong woman in that mirror. She has a head on her shoulders filled with positive thoughts. Such as one day making the world hers and inspiring others. You’re looking at a woman who is bad. She knows who she is and she ain’t afraid to be herself. She’s a woman who moves with clarity and purpose. She believes that nothing is impossible for her to do. Is she perfect? Not at all. She’s made mistakes but she’s learned from them and became the woman she stands as today. Black girl, black girl you’re staring at profound greatness and destiny. You forgot who you are so I thought I’d remind you. This world will never keep a strong woman like you down. Look in that mirror and blow a thousand kisses to the woman that you see. Everyday won’t be easy. But you remember who you are and make this world your Queendom beautiful!! -Mia J 7/3/2020 © 2020 Mia J

39

I'm almost twenty, you know. I mean, I'm sure you don't care but i'm almost twenty years old. And I'm trying. To be all the things you said i would be and I'm not going to question all the rules you've set out for me because i need that foreboding affirmation of love so just know that I'm never gonna leave. Because were it not for you, who would i be? But I'm also struggling To figure out if I am actually a talented artist Or just some teenage kid going through stuff. i need To see the answers at the back of the book of Life if there's such a thing I feel. Oh Lord! I feel tired already. Like i could quit But i can't I'm already nineteen years into this **** And I'm already tryna make people take me seriously. And I'm trying. To pretend that i understand why old people are so entitled to an earth that might actually be revolting against the human race That i know, why it is super ultra important to be the kind of feminist that is kind to misogynists That i even want, to be part of an existence that so closely resembles a shitshow That i even know, how to turn my feelings into a proper rhyme. I don't. Honestly and i don't care. So i won't even try to pretend that woke mans are not the **** and that i don't think, gay people deserve peace and that I don't wish, child marriages was something i could fix and that i don't think, that I'm going to marry an intersectional feminist and that i don't think, that instead of vows he's going to recite to me his poetry and that i actually need you to tell me that these are all teenage fantasies. I don't. I've had nineteen years of this **** And i’m just glad i don't have to pretend That i love pink , i do even though i wish i didn't And that i know i can take nineteen more years if only it means More badly written poetry from beautifully imperfect teens And more African literature and Twitter and sleep More discussions with bae about the importance of memes More inventive ways to show bae i exist. I might be getting carried away but you see what i mean. That i want everything this life has to give Just no struggles. no pretence.no assumptions. and no guilt.

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Apr 10, 2018

Apr 10, 2018 at 5:44 PM UTC

sibonginkosinetha

Growth...i think???

I'm almost twenty, you know. I mean, I'm sure you don't care but i'm almost twenty years old. And I'm trying. To be all the things you said i would be and I'm not going to question all the rules you've set out for me because i need that foreboding affirmation of love so just know that I'm never gonna leave. Because were it not for you, who would i be? But I'm also struggling To figure out if I am actually a talented artist Or just some teenage kid going through stuff. i need To see the answers at the back of the book of Life if there's such a thing I feel. Oh Lord! I feel tired already. Like i could quit But i can't I'm already nineteen years into this **** And I'm already tryna make people take me seriously. And I'm trying. To pretend that i understand why old people are so entitled to an earth that might actually be revolting against the human race That i know, why it is super ultra important to be the kind of feminist that is kind to misogynists That i even want, to be part of an existence that so closely resembles a shitshow That i even know, how to turn my feelings into a proper rhyme. I don't. Honestly and i don't care. So i won't even try to pretend that woke mans are not the **** and that i don't think, gay people deserve peace and that I don't wish, child marriages was something i could fix and that i don't think, that I'm going to marry an intersectional feminist and that i don't think, that instead of vows he's going to recite to me his poetry and that i actually need you to tell me that these are all teenage fantasies. I don't. I've had nineteen years of this **** And i’m just glad i don't have to pretend That i love pink , i do even though i wish i didn't And that i know i can take nineteen more years if only it means More badly written poetry from beautifully imperfect teens And more African literature and Twitter and sleep More discussions with bae about the importance of memes More inventive ways to show bae i exist. I might be getting carried away but you see what i mean. That i want everything this life has to give Just no struggles. no pretence.no assumptions. and no guilt.

40

Being a girl is hard But being a black girl... Let me tell you about being a black girl Leave Out Twist Frontal Perm Pick your poison "Unprofessional" Or falling for " European Beauty Standards" " Why are you so quiet?" Do you expect me to be aggressive And snap my fingers in an A-Z formation Light Skin is the best skin Or so they say I'm jealous of my brother, for his caramel skin Oh what I'd do for that caramel skin You think that's the worst of it but have you see **** Cute girl makes love to -insert famous **** star here Ebony ***** gets banged till she squirts Which would you rather watch? If you ever turned on a TV you'd see reality shows with the perfect blue eyed blond hair cast and the one black kid who doesn't get enough attention Ever since Rachel was the Bachelorette I too prayed one day I'll find the man of my dreams Have you ever had a crush on someone and ever think if they even like girls your skin color? Being a girl is hard But being a black girl Oh let me tell you about being a black girl

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Nov 27, 2017

Nov 27, 2017 at 4:13 PM UTC

anjelic-poet

Diary Of A Black Girl

Being a girl is hard But being a black girl... Let me tell you about being a black girl Leave Out Twist Frontal Perm Pick your poison "Unprofessional" Or falling for " European Beauty Standards" " Why are you so quiet?" Do you expect me to be aggressive And snap my fingers in an A-Z formation Light Skin is the best skin Or so they say I'm jealous of my brother, for his caramel skin Oh what I'd do for that caramel skin You think that's the worst of it but have you see **** Cute girl makes love to -insert famous **** star here Ebony ***** gets banged till she squirts Which would you rather watch? If you ever turned on a TV you'd see reality shows with the perfect blue eyed blond hair cast and the one black kid who doesn't get enough attention Ever since Rachel was the Bachelorette I too prayed one day I'll find the man of my dreams Have you ever had a crush on someone and ever think if they even like girls your skin color? Being a girl is hard But being a black girl Oh let me tell you about being a black girl

27

The day the ships came my ancestors we not of the aware of the forced melting *** that would come into existence The combination of french and spanish confused the delta slaves Little did they know that neither language would stick on their burnt excuses of tongues The days the ships came New Orleans became the beacon of mulatos And although the conquistadors could **** and beat their slave wives Their spanish advances were not reciprocated due to lack of of heat to complete the melting The languages that conquered the delta were combined into something that no outsider would want to encounter That’s why the Americans came and took it like they did the rest of the country They mistake the magic for voodoo then rebranded it for themselves Centuries later the delta is still a melting *** But it’s one my grandmother’s tongue was forced to forget Her languages were lost next to her mulatto slave ancestors, left to spoil So now when people ask “If you’re hispanic why can’t you speak spanish?” I can barely find the words in english to explain the years of torture my tongue has endured When spanish speaking couples walk into my work My tongue is eager to spill words it wishes it had the ability to create My blood begins to hate itself over the fact that a third of itself is unrecognizable My tongue is still waiting for the new boats to arrive and reconcer it All it knows is to be conquered No self defense here When all you know is to be conquered It becomes a challenge to think for oneself My tongue can’t decide if english, spanish or french is better My creole mind is yelling thousands foreign curse words not knowing which one is a true sin Maybe the sin here is letting the burner stay on too long The day the ships came My slave ancestors looked at their spanish lovers and said “My love, what shall we do once the french arrive?” With their eyes looking into the horizon the conquistadors replied “Es no problema para mi, pero tu, tu es la propiedad de estos” Which according to simple history books means “Good luck”

0

Apr 19, 2017

Apr 19, 2017 at 10:16 PM UTC

leethebee

The day the ships came

The day the ships came my ancestors we not of the aware of the forced melting *** that would come into existence The combination of french and spanish confused the delta slaves Little did they know that neither language would stick on their burnt excuses of tongues The days the ships came New Orleans became the beacon of mulatos And although the conquistadors could **** and beat their slave wives Their spanish advances were not reciprocated due to lack of of heat to complete the melting The languages that conquered the delta were combined into something that no outsider would want to encounter That’s why the Americans came and took it like they did the rest of the country They mistake the magic for voodoo then rebranded it for themselves Centuries later the delta is still a melting *** But it’s one my grandmother’s tongue was forced to forget Her languages were lost next to her mulatto slave ancestors, left to spoil So now when people ask “If you’re hispanic why can’t you speak spanish?” I can barely find the words in english to explain the years of torture my tongue has endured When spanish speaking couples walk into my work My tongue is eager to spill words it wishes it had the ability to create My blood begins to hate itself over the fact that a third of itself is unrecognizable My tongue is still waiting for the new boats to arrive and reconcer it All it knows is to be conquered No self defense here When all you know is to be conquered It becomes a challenge to think for oneself My tongue can’t decide if english, spanish or french is better My creole mind is yelling thousands foreign curse words not knowing which one is a true sin Maybe the sin here is letting the burner stay on too long The day the ships came My slave ancestors looked at their spanish lovers and said “My love, what shall we do once the french arrive?” With their eyes looking into the horizon the conquistadors replied “Es no problema para mi, pero tu, tu es la propiedad de estos” Which according to simple history books means “Good luck”

33

If only your skin was a lighter shade Here, this bleach might come to your aid If only your lips weren't so full Maybe the boys would like you at school If only your hair wasn't so ***** Here's some caustic chemicals to make it more slinky If only your ******* weren't so large Here's the number to a surgeon, call and see what they charge If only your waist was smaller (just a few inches) Here's a corset, see how tiny it cinches? If only your *** wasn't so round How 'bout you run some laps to lose a few pounds? If only you'd get your nose out of books I bet you'd garner more stares for your looks If only you'd change your curious personality I hear the masses prefer banality If only you'd see me for me Do you know how content I'd be? If you can't do that Then leave me be.

0

Jan 8, 2017

Jan 8, 2017 at 2:09 PM UTC

dawntreader

If Only...

If only your skin was a lighter shade Here, this bleach might come to your aid If only your lips weren't so full Maybe the boys would like you at school If only your hair wasn't so ***** Here's some caustic chemicals to make it more slinky If only your ******* weren't so large Here's the number to a surgeon, call and see what they charge If only your waist was smaller (just a few inches) Here's a corset, see how tiny it cinches? If only your *** wasn't so round How 'bout you run some laps to lose a few pounds? If only you'd get your nose out of books I bet you'd garner more stares for your looks If only you'd change your curious personality I hear the masses prefer banality If only you'd see me for me Do you know how content I'd be? If you can't do that Then leave me be.

20

Abortions will not let you forget. You remember the children you got that you did not get, The damp small pulps with a little or with no hair, The singers and workers that never handled the air. You will never neglect or beat Them, or silence or buy with a sweet. You will never wind up the sucking-thumb Or scuttle off ghosts that come. You will never leave them, controlling your luscious sigh, Return for a snack of them, with gobbling mother-eye. Abortions will not Let you remember the child Or scuttle off ghosts that come.

0

Dec 28, 2016

Dec 28, 2016 at 3:46 PM UTC

crystal-worrell

The Mother... A Haiku For Gwendolyn Brooks

Abortions will not let you forget. You remember the children you got that you did not get, The damp small pulps with a little or with no hair, The singers and workers that never handled the air. You will never neglect or beat Them, or silence or buy with a sweet. You will never wind up the sucking-thumb Or scuttle off ghosts that come. You will never leave them, controlling your luscious sigh, Return for a snack of them, with gobbling mother-eye. Abortions will not Let you remember the child Or scuttle off ghosts that come.

13