"blackish" poems
I am Comfortable
able to ease your fears with
a smile or a flip of my
appropriately curly hair.
I am forgiven traffic ticket
proper sentences and twinkly
eyes, able to quickly ease your alarm
I am Just a Warning
I am The Exception
elegant sentences
king's English
never tolerating the incorrect use of their
I am private college education
the accessory to your culture
the other to your subject
always complimentary,
but never the source of discussion
I am Beautiful
Accompanied by "What are you mixed with"
A reflection of appropriation for my own culture
Too White for Black,
Too Black for White
I am inner city in the suburbs
I am Lightskinned
the kind of Black that keeps you
Comfortable.
May 15, 2015
May 15, 2015 at 5:04 PM UTC
Right before the thunderstorm
Clouds of grey line the sky
The breezes stir even a little
And rustle through the tall, tall pines
Leaves are scattered on the ground
The scent of rain fills the air
The stifling hot summer day
All of a sudden cools off
The wind picks up
And the sky is black with rage
Green leaves and twigs and small branches
Are flying through the air
Lightening flashes vibrantly
And thunder follows right behind with a crash
That ear splitting "boom" makes me jump and cringe
Rain suddenly pours from the heavens
And it roars upon the roof
Raindrops wash the porch
Of any dust or summer dirt
The ground tries its best to drink the rain
Yet still leaves puddles all around
The sun shines and then fades again
And the sky turns blackish-bluer still
Until that familiar sound of thunder
Startles me and makes me frightened
Thunderstorms are dark, yet lovely
And scary, yet beautiful
I guess I like thunderstorms
But just am afraid of them
~Marian~
Jan 15, 2014
Jan 15, 2014 at 8:37 AM UTC
I'm that girl who hopes to be taken by the hand
And drifted off to neverland
Leaving my worries behind me
And soaring in the sky, free
I'm that girl who waits for a prince
And a strong true loves kiss
But I don't really need saving
It's only the passion I'm craving
Im that girl who wishes to live in a Disney movie
With nature, songs, and tremendous beauty
But instead I live in a tearful drama
With blackish skies and lasting trauma
Nov 8, 2017
Nov 8, 2017 at 5:32 PM UTC
i'm cold
and damply
drowning in
all these
blackish
tones and tunes.
it's hard
to find
a song to
err on the
side of
brighter hues.
especially
when i'm so
frostily
submerged
in these
tonal blues.
Jul 22, 2016
Jul 22, 2016 at 10:52 PM UTC
With disdain they looked upon one Billy McGee
a boy that promised never to be;
a rep that’s scarred and scratched,
for sure his name’s mismatched
as darker skin ya’ever did see
on blackish hair with reddish flecks of Billy McGee.
A red haired aboriginal boy
matches were only a toy
and he was caught red handed
and always branded
the troublesome fire starter.
Poor boy had no farda
he was stolen in a generation;
trouble, his one destination
for any of his wild-sown seed.
Never had a chance, Billy McGee.
May 15, 2022
May 15, 2022 at 7:55 AM UTC
SPRING
Like a bull, she charged the dandelion hill
Her child-sister a pack on her back, until
The braves swarmed from the wooded rill
She shouted to her comrades to lie still
Among the sweet grass and the dewy chill
Wild girl
SUMMER
She clutched the bark skin of Hawthorne trees
Skidding down, then pressing in her knees
Mop of chestnut hair blowing in the breeze
Which smell'd of hot soil and sweet peas
The sun above as close as she could please
Wild girl
AUTUMN
Page after page, her blackish eyes devoured
Tales of elves and warriors, from her tower
Where real-life through the faery-glass did sour
In presence of such phantasmal power
Of all the leather-bound leaves they flowered
Wild girl
WINTER
So it was, she crafted bricks of blue and red
Into cathedrals and creatures concocted in her head
Riled dragons to hear the tales they said
Climbed mountains others would not dare to tread
And did it all before momma called her to bed
Wild girl
Jan 11, 2014
Jan 11, 2014 at 12:13 AM UTC
CLOUDNINE NIGHT.
On a Cloudnine
night, dark skyline
blackish star-less-night.
Scary atmosphere
terrifying, ugly and
lazy. Nothang
interesting about
night but dream.
However Dreamers
sleep not but live
their DREAM. Man
dies for fortune
searching in vain.
Wishing a kinda
Cloudnine night !
#C9_fm
Apr 30, 2021
Apr 30, 2021 at 3:03 AM UTC
Like this morning for instance
Hot February and dry cracked
skin of my shadow
which sometimes seems
to look at me
and move w/out me
and I, w/out it.
Sometimes I see the flicker
of a dark soul jeer; a savage dance,
right in front of me,
or in the corner of my eye
when my head is tilted.
The other day at my friend’s
I felt like I was, briefly,
in the sunflower courtyard
of this ol’ dark
underwater museum
full of mirrors
that float adrift.
Angles that perpetually
gyrate and shift…..
I hear the sound of a whale
submerged in a highway
crying with striving despair
at night
and I'm sad
because his lovers reply
sounds so distant
and it sounds as if it comes
from a cavern w/in an ocean
below a sun
I hope he finds her
and dies happy
in the warmth of her flippers....
I miss the panther-warm wine & cream
Was it worth it
Is this worth it
Cold violet city
vacant warm lobbies at night
desolate allies and dogs in such deep slumber
they cant even wake to bark at impending footsteps
The musty brown cars
whose aura of mothballs and pipe smoke
reminds you of a childhood irretrievable
I smiled back at the rocks that snickered
Beside the fence
which stood firm
In caring vigilance
Cold verdure within
Misery mixed with
Getting bored w/ absorbing it
There’s a strange saloon w/ hotel attached
at the center of Melancholy
where flames are lit music is played
bodies are slowly denuded
and silver knives are thrown
I can show you…
(Long ago it seems
I bit and kissed and became
aquatinted w/ the bark of
the root of delirium
Recently even I’ve spoken
to the heart of delirium itself
from within
w/ no reply
but I can remember
all my memories were hallucinations)
Feb 28, 2012
Feb 28, 2012 at 1:27 PM UTC
Wild ducks and grasses mingle so deeply this morn
I saw them beneath the blackish red sunny dawn
The sun rises behind the clouds, to cover it's face
And cry dip dip dip, now and then - this time anytime
Aroma has blown on the air, the message is floating
Everywhere: Night-birds --street-girls, drunk Romeos go back home
O old beggar mom, don't depart your dome and Starve today,
Let your breast-feeding baby quite in fasting by red eyes,
Pray rain, rain, rain, and raining today day and night
Drops on things anywhere, on wild geese, and on grass
Oct 8, 2020
Oct 8, 2020 at 12:55 AM UTC
“Black is beauty” this she last heard in high school
Eight years have now gone by
And her skin is evident of a pink plastic plate fading under sunlight
Black would have been beauty if her last boyfriend after high school
Had not rubbed in her face
You are not my taste
He said so,
After inserting his aggressive filament in her stigma
What more did he want to taste?
She thought, after him ploughing through her womanhood like a tractor
You are too black to be black
I prefer a light skinned kind of a woman, he went on
This was the dialogue
That put an end to their couple-hood
Now it is more than monologue
Between her and the her in the mirror
Seeing her she had become
Her that she was lured to
First, it was the rusting of the shimmering black on her skin.
Replaced by a colour similar to that of a dress worn by a ripe banana
Yellowish beneath a fading blackish and a pinkish rising
Yes, she was liked, appreciated and adored
Men serpentined at the threshold of her door
Yes this time around
She was the one that sang the song
She did not rub it on their faces,
She rubbed it on their *****
You are not my taste
I prefer a light skinned kind of man
You are too black to be black…
It is eight years now
And her skin is evident of a pink plastic plate fading under sunlight
Jan 15, 2016
Jan 15, 2016 at 4:26 AM UTC
A burning shadow follows you,
made of sorrows and regrets
at first unreal, now so true…
placed like billion spider nets,
it keeps you stuck ,so you can’t move,
meanwhile it burns you to the ground
it just wants you to approve
to admit it’s real, and yell it out
it consumes your soul
and drains your essence
leaving only blackish coal
making null your very presence
It has been cast from far away
and her mother’s name is Vengeance
this curse will eat you day by day
this my dear, is your death sentence.
Apr 24, 2015
Apr 24, 2015 at 5:45 PM UTC
I can see it if I close my eyes.
I can hear and smell and feel it too.
The scent of strong-brewed coffee,
As you so love,
Wafting up from tightly clenched matching mugs
As the hardback Adirondack chairs
Gently support our not-quite-awake frames
Seated on the eastern porch
In front of the green meadow
Hemmed with forest in the distance
As that darkest hue
Of midnight blackish-blue
Begins to lighten ever so slightly
Before the onslaught
Of the brilliant fiery sunbeams.
A new day has dawned.
Dec 3, 2014
Dec 3, 2014 at 9:45 AM UTC
flesh crayons and acrylic paints
on the white cardboard
I see long leg dogs and paint ***** and
odd shapes in my head
I brush the flesh on the board
hard red colours
blackish brown
orange and mango and sky blue paint
gets on the tides of the carpet
what to paint next
I’m always drawing faces
ugly girls with love eyes
and the mole between the nose and the lip
small *******
I should call my art UNSOBER Arte, I painted
being on something
the colours move and swish
they dry fast
it’s freak art
bad really bad art
I know you won’t somber to it
that’s fine.
Nov 30, 2013
Nov 30, 2013 at 10:18 AM UTC
I'm standing at your grave
While the rain hides my tears
Thinking how I could be so brave
To keep the promises we had for years
Standing at your grave
Asking you some questions
Was I too naive
To understand your departing gestures
All those memories with you
A garden of roses and lotus
With nothing left to say but thank you
However now departed, somehow I still dwell in us
Tears hidden by rain
Years smitten by pain
I can count the rain drops
But I lost count of my tear drops
Unwilling to let you go
I stand in envy with the Lord
Taken from me, he has you
Asking Lord what treasure you had not
I'm clinging to your death wish
To stay brave and bold
The vision will all be blackish
And the weather will be cold.
I'll keep the promises
The promise that I'm all yours
The promise of loving you eternally
The promise to never let you go
So I'll stand daily at your grave
And tell you I've been brave
Even after you are gone
I'll dwell in us all alone.
Apr 15, 2016
Apr 15, 2016 at 2:46 PM UTC
Have you not seen...
*The twinkling stars like glittering gems
Guiding voyagers, inspiring philosophers
The sublime horizon at dawn and dusk
Blackish blue, Pink and tangerine hues
The majestic mountains like titans stand
With crowns of white, an awesome sight
The mighty river, the great life giver
Meandering her way to a briny abyss
The endless ocean; its blue horizons
Of abundant bounty; of great voyages
The blooming meadows where cattle graze
Where maidens play; where poets gaze*
Do these wonders not make you ponder -
Can such beauty exist, without an Artist?
Can a poem ever exist, without a poet?
Dec 9, 2014
Dec 9, 2014 at 11:18 AM UTC
The colour of my blood
And the colour of your blood
Ain't they just the same?,
Red.
The blood that runs in both our veins
Is the same colour, Red.
The colour of my skin
And the colour of your skin
Ain't they just the same?,
Black
Yes I am from the Equatorial
And maybe I am darker than you
Blacker than you.
Yes I am from the East,
the west, the north or the south of Africa
But still we all black.
You might be lighter
You might be blackish
But still we are Africans
We are Blacks.
When the Whites come to your countries
You call them tourists.
But when us Blacks come to you
You call us terrorists
You call us refugees.
We more than just squatters in your land,
But we come seeking a helping hand from a brother.
Why welcome outsiders
Yet you oust you own.
Why burn our shops?
Why burn our shacks?
Why let our souls weep?
Brothers and sisters of Africa
Why the violence?
Why the killings?
Why the brutality?
Why the cruelity?
What happened to humanity?
What happened to Ubuntu?
Violence has never solved a thing.
Will killing a man with 5 children and a wife back at
home,
Bring food to your table?
What will burning a man down to ashes bring you?
What will stoning a man to death bring you?
Can it pay your bills?
Can it bring food to your table?
Can it pay your your children's school fees?
Brothers and sisters of Africa
I plead with you
Our, Black nation
If we come together with mutual hearts and minds
We can bring back love and peace
We can fight poverty
Just stop the hate!
Our the violence!
Stop the killings!
It's enough!!
Say NO TO XENOPHOBIA.
# Treeweezy_d_poet ©2018
I am the voice of the voiceless.
Aug 27, 2018
Aug 27, 2018 at 9:17 AM UTC
In the middle of the night I awoke
With a lion growling in my stomach
So carefully and without a sound,
I made my way upstairs and into the kitchen
To fetch a delicious snack for this lion
That calls itself my stomach
As I opened the refrigerater
And as the pale white light it emitted
Illuminated the room,
My eyes began to scan the shelves for something to eat.
When all of the sudden
They landed on a strange
Blackish-
brownish-
greenish
Lump.
What is this strange lump?
I thought to myself.
So with the bravery of a thousand warriors,
I extended my arm
And lifted the container.
I removed the lid.
And inside
What I found
Was
What used to be an avocado.
I went back to bed.
Feb 7, 2018
Feb 7, 2018 at 1:36 AM UTC
Yellow leaves crunch as I trudge on the old aisle.
The rusty latch of the black gate,
Screams as I unlock it.
My hand slowly traces it way over the dusty metal plate,
Rubbing it I read,
Home sweet home.
My footsteps haunt the house,
As I walk inside.
It's complete dark,
Yet I see everything.
Rooms are empty,
But I see it filled,
Just like few years ago.
I walk to where once I heard the whistle,
I hear her say,
'Dinner is ready dear.'
I hear a few whispers and laughs at the spot,
where once was a table for ten.
Clink of vessels at the sink,
Which was now covered in spider web.
I walk to where once we used to enjoy the evening,
With potato chips and tea.
I hear the commentators speak,
'one more six.'
I hear claps and cheers,
And thumping sound on a comfy sofa,
Which was once placed,
Where I stand now.
I climb up the stairs,
Each step appearing like a milestone.
I see those frames,
Them happy and gay.
Now were only left,
The rectangle marks on the,
Blackish bluish wall.
I walk up to were was once a big feather bed,
I hear a happy scream,
As she says,
'Papa, what if I tickle you like this.'
I hear me say,
'And what if Papa does like this.'
As I carry my daughter in my arms,
And she flies like a plane.
I leave the house,
And walk to the backyard,
Where was once nice and cultivated grass,
now dead and black.
As I lock back the junked gate,
I feel the strings of my heart,
Getting tensed,
And I hear a sad tone.
Dec 20, 2017
Dec 20, 2017 at 11:40 AM UTC
Waking is so hard
The sky blackish-blue
Eyes fluttering to open
All desires are of you.
0140510~040510~6.22a
Jul 1, 2015
Jul 1, 2015 at 2:03 PM UTC
I'm a fool for brown eyes and sugar plump lips,
The way your nose makes its shape makes my stomach do flips.
I'm a sucker for your blackish hair and your silhouette in the window when you pass by. And if I said I didn't fall for you, I'd be a lie.
I fell for everything you stood for, honey. And here I am crouched with the shock of you in my throat fighting to close up.
I need my drug. I need you now to help me through this recession, to **** the fear of my constant loneliness, give me the strength to keep going because that's what you do best.
Aug 30, 2015
Aug 30, 2015 at 3:26 AM UTC