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Zeleyha Mata Nov 2018
You used to tell me that beautiful things come from pain and adversity.
Like motherhood, unconditional love, and true stories.
As I stood in the middle of a room painted white,
Staring at the remains of rolling hills burned to black,
I saw you staring back at me.

Burnt fields like black panther fur
Shining against your bones
Velvet black
You’ve changed
And changed and changed
Yet your love still remains
Burnt fields like black panther fur
Whiskers are the needles on a compass
Always pointing to the azure sky
You used to sing when I cried
Rolling your r’s over rrolling hills
A haunting melody startling black birds into the night
Feathered constellations against a sliver moon
And lips pressed to my salty cheeks

You told me that your favorite skin tone was chocolate,
As you laid out in the sun hoping to melt. “A quarter black” is what you say when you want to feel proud,
Even as you tell me stories of how your mother was called negrita,
The girl who stood too dark amongst the crowd.

Burnt fields like black panther fur
Black like the broken wings of mothers before you
Who had hands with scars from cotton seeds
And blue veins like uprooted trees
Stretching all the way to their tired knees
Burnt fields like black panther fur
You criticize your aging beauty
Speaking in envy of the color gold
Like you are a broken bowl in need of kintsugi
Yet silver snakes still slither
Over the pebbled river beds of your black curls
Dripping down the small of your back
Until they reach the base of your ivory spine
Burnt fields like black panther fur
You criticize your aging beauty
Because you never thought
Cocoa lips and sun spots painted on sculpted clay that never cracks
Could ever look as stunning as it does on you

You told me that it is better to speak my truth then tell pretty lies.
So I told you mine and you cried,
And cried and cried.
But look where we are now,
Standing beside each other with the same eyes,
Just different reflections.

Burnt fields like black panther fur
Tongue like a sword set ablaze
Tempered in pools of milk and honey
Blood red sun grazing the tops of your eyelids
Still reminiscent of those in old photographs
Where you saw the little girl you search for in me
Burnt fields like black panther fur
I am sorry I made you cry
But even when our backs are turned
We are still
Black birds singing in the dead of night
Free
Thank you mama for my broken wings.
Inspired by a photograph of a burnt field that I saw in an art gallery. For my mom.
Anya Jul 2018
I am in a box
As I reach out
Touch the walls
This strange barrier that separates me
From the other
Anything external
Different
Other
A hand from the box adjacent to mine appears
Splayed against the wall
I reach out mine
The dark and light contrast
Like the Chinese symbol Ying and yang
Other clearly
Other
Even a child could tell the difference
But,
Who does it take to look past the differences?
Francie Lynch Feb 2018
I have this friend
          (it's really me)
Who has this girlfriend
          (who's really she)
Who has this quirk
          (really several)
Which she'd deny
          (which is another)
She's not anti-***,
Sees right past color, creed and ethnicity;
Sees women for being women,
Men for men,
And any combination thereof,
And vice versa.
No, she can see right past bigotry,
Is blind to prejudice,
But has an innate drive that goes straight for wardrobe.
From the gowns of celebs,
To the color of Alex Trebek's tie.
A sartorist, that's what she is.
          
          I heard that.
          And I am not.


          (contrary too)
sartor: clothing
Amare Leslie Sep 2018
Does ethnicity
Really matter when red blood
Is being splattered
Lesli Vallecillo Mar 2017
"I am truly losing faith in humanity." This is the phrase that provokes so much frustration in me. Tell me how this does not hurt you just by being okay with speaking it or writing it. Are you not humanity, are you not of the same bones and flesh as me. Do you not battle through struggles and have the livest moments as me. Have we not mourn the same when we lose something precious or realized the hate that tries to consume our people? Are we not one race of people? Tell me how you do not sit in puzzlement having stated that you do not have faith in yourself. Do tragedies put out your flame so quick. Instead of rising to conquer change no matter the time or loses, you crumble. My sisters and brothers, I am Honduran but my love does not stop at my roots. My kindness does not only affect people of my own ethnicity or skin color. We're a human race and no I do not speak that we should be blind to our cultures and each other's beginnings. I speak that being so different does not mean we are not as well immensely similar. Recognize my skin, recognize my language, recognize my roots, my religion, my traditions, my scars. Recognize all of me. And LOVE me still to no end. These tragedies will not further prosper when you have faith that, with a race with this much diversity, we will find the solution and stop these hate-crimes that make some of us even ponder the thought of defeat. I have grown to learn that this is the change, seeing the enormous difference in each other but seeing all the similarities and having it urge us to close the gap with knowledge and understanding. This is our peace. Learning of one another. This is our hope.
Tawana Nov 2018
You should have seen the way she was looking at me she was asking for it with her big smile and the way she flipped her hair, she looked at me and smiled so, obviously, she was asking for it. This is the type of language I have heard from men who have tried to justify their actions.
As though that would change our reactions to how they treat women during interactions.
You know I can’t walk out at night without a chaperone
And when I am at a party I cannot leave my drink alone
I mean my anxiety has become full-blown.
In 2012 1.5 million women in Australia had experienced ****** assault
And with this great number how can you say that it was probably her fault.
You should know that that’s her body not your it’s not for you to look at or to pry
Again, it's hers, not yours so why do I need to clarify?
What kind of messed up world do we live in where a woman speaking her truth has become sin?
She asked for you to stop as you groped her, but you were not listening
The very thought of this in my mind is honestly nothing but sickening.
We sit quietly and watch these men become the leaders of our countries and the judges in our courts. Who because of our ignorance, have still not been caught.
And yet despite the numerous reports, people refuse to connect the dots.
You mean to tell me that these women were asking for it as they lay unconscious as their offender whispered that it would be their little secret.
When will people stop and listen to the cries of these women, they are everywhere and whether you like it or not they do not exist.
They are in the bathrooms of a bar, they are in the same streets we walk every day they are even in the offices we work.
In places which we least expect them to be are where these predators lurk.
Since I was young I always dreamt of what it would be like to be grown
And now in 2018, I realized what it means to be a woman.
It means being safe should be my main concern
It means if a man puts his hands on you he should be pardoned
Because with the way you were dressed clearly, he had no option
And no matter what you say they will only listen to his version
Because your woman and you do not know what you’re talking about not even a fraction.
I have heard the stories of women who gave their confessions, and no one believed them
Because who are they to try and tarnish the names of these men
So, tell me when just when will a woman’s voice will be heard again
But It’s the strength and fortitude of women like Nadia Murad who make me believe
That because of the horrors that have occurred we don’t all have to grieve
There is truly is a chance for us to make some good after all the negative
There is hope for us victim or not we could all write a new narrative
One where a girl wearing a skirt would not be reason enough for her to be hurt
One where a girl can sit at night on public transport with comfort
One where a girl walking home alone would not be a hazard
A world where when it comes to things like these, we have a higher standard
A world where the idea of a man putting his hands on a woman would be absurd.
When people ask us why we fight there are many answers that are in the right.
We fight for the women who lost their lives in the arms of these monsters
We fight for the women who were forced to become young mothers
We fight for the woman who have been silenced and put into corners.
These are the people we fight for whether she’s Muslim, Christian, Sikh or any other religion
Whether she’s Black, White, Mexican or Asian or another ethnicity, we will use our words and story’s as ammunition.
For we know that there is a war to be won
And We will no longer run
So, when we speak of the monsters still standing there will be none,
And for the women who are afraid to speak his name, just know you’re not alone.
right now
sacrifice is fueling opportunity
an opportunity to breathe
with an uninterrupted purpose
the corruption of our native soul
stop nourishing it
by constructing whiteness
sacrificing ethnicity
for the temporal indulgence
adrenaline *****
torturing
intensity of dissociation
hallucinating whiteness
the worst drug ever manufactured
forced upon our children
intricate delicate
vulnerable violence
tripping
stumbling
dissociating from an eternity
of survival of the most cooperative
deterring
forgetting
intoxicating
for a moment
momentum of ******
https://www.amazon.com/Escape-Liberty-Elan-Gregory-ebook/dp/B01MUCXUQ1/ref=tmm_kin_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=1536442649&sr=8-1
Anya Sep 2018
When you look at me
You instantly stereotype
My glassses
My skin color
You can probably guess I’m book smart
You’d be right
You can guess I’m introverted
You’d be semi right
You can guess I’m not naturally very athletic
You’d be right
You can guess my ethnicity
You’d probably be right
You can guess a lot of things
And there’s a high chance you’d be right for many of them

But...

What about those things,
You’d never guess?
I bet you’d never believe I was a Goalie
You probably don’t know I write poetry
I’m learning Chinese
I ran six miles in fifth grade
I enjoy acting
I’m an atheist
I have a mild obsession with Asian light novels
The list goes on...

But still,
The point here is
There’s a lot of things you don’t see

About me

About everyone

I’m just as guilty of judging as anyone else
We humans tend to categorize,
A lot
...
But,
It’s
Often
Not
True
From the perspective of an American girl whose parents are from India.
TB Dentz Jul 2018
Be open-minded and admit the possibility
That some things are objectively wrong
We all live in a constant state of gray area

I see you pretty often, maybe once every week or so
For a moment our bubbles come very close to overlapping
But they so far have always held firm
Which is, in one respect, kind of amazing
Yet in another, to be expected

Our bubbles are made of rubber and concrete
Our lives are so different - we’re separated by
Class, gender, age, ethnicity and health history
Different in almost every way you could imagine
Save for location, which again is amazing

If we ever step out of our bubbles one day
And I actually hope we do
It will be uncomfortable, I imagine, and also
Potentially dangerous for both of us
But it could turn out great

Most people ask themselves I guess
Whether it’s worth the risk
And say no and they probably make assumptions
And I so far haven’t made too many about you
Although to make none is impossible and so of that I am proud

Some things might be wrong even if
Everyone does them and even if
You or I do them constantly
Without an ounce of guilt
It’s possible anyway
This is about finding the ways society tricks us into believing we are good people.
Këänu Sep 8
At school cafeteria tables

-social gatherings

-marital couplings.

one's skin color

-ethnicity

-tribal belonging.

we;

regretfully segregate ourselves
out of pure
habit and
comfortability.

audacity and irony
overflows in well versed,
pre rehearsed
denials of
racism.

so i ask;

if we aren't,

why do we not
individually be the breaker of tribal or racial chains?

diversity had long ago peaked my humans are humans interest.

i see no color nor
tribal lines that offend me.

i only see someone that is just like me outwardly and 'hopefully'
just as beautiful inside.
Is it too much? By Nikki R.

Is it to much to ask that people love one another?
I mean the same type of love that one has for their mother!

Is it to **** much to ask that people be honest?
I mean the type of honest like when you were a kid and said. “A promise is a promise is a promise!”

Is it too much for us to look beyond a person’s color, religion, ethnicity, or creed?
I mean with all this being said you bleed, I bleed, we bleed —the same color blood! Yes, Indeed!

Is it too much to ask that we stand as one, sing in unison, or march to the beat of the same drum?

Is it too much I ask?
I am pleading that we start to work together as one before this great country of ours dwindles and the day is done.

Stand up! Unite! Fight!  
Is it too much to ask that you simply do what’s right!!!
I wonder why we define boundaries
The LOC's, The island, The territories
Do we ever understand our existence?
Do we ever question our existence?

Intrigues my mind these thoughts ever
Reasons my thoughts over and over
Do we really think we are big?
Do we really exist the way we think?

Andromeda being our neighbor in many
Thousands of these galaxies surround us
Milky way is one such in plenty..
One dot is our planet
Unique, beautiful, lively, colorful..
Colors are recent addition not too old though..
The time when existing boundaries were drawn
Colors and flowers too were born..
Do we believe we created colors?
Do we really believe we created boundaries??


We fight for territories
We define continents
We be so proud of countries
Our existence, Our proud, Our nationality, our Identity,
Do we feel we exist because of countries??
Do we really feel we are nothing beyond countries??

Religion, Ethnicity, Culture, Color,
Do animals have it too??
Sentinelese, Jarawa, Onge tribes
Living in archipelago of Andaman & Nicobar for 60,000 years,
Who are these people living in tribes?
Which religion do they belong?
What language do they speak?
How without fire do they survive?
Do we still think we exist because of names given by us?
Do we still doubt our Creator?

To bound self in boundaries is sin
Sin against the Creator
Sin against the Soul
Sin against the humanity
Sin against belief of life..
To partition our nations is to belittle
the Greatness of His
Who created us, who created universe
Who created "Himself" to keep our belief..

Continents, Rich, Poor, Oldest civilisation, Countries, Big, Small
Are these parameters to be proud of?
If we observe us from the top of universe
We will be a fly or a microorganism
They may name us Earthica humane
Do we have to fight for land and land marks?
Do we still have to divide the mother Earth?

Is it not high time we rise and decide?
United we make our Earth unique
Souls wander the whole universe
But to live they decend on Earth
Can we not be proud of planet as a whole?
No boundaries do us part
Can we not end the hatred forever?
Bringing peace, solace and love as treasure!!
Wrote this after reading about Sentinelese, Jarawa, Onge tribes
Living in archipelago of Andaman & Nicobar for 60,000 years.... They live there undisturbed, sovereign, Part of India, no one took today have been able to communicate with them, decipher thr language etc. They are not able to light a fire, fight with arrows.


https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sentinelese
Ryan P Kinney Feb 11
Inspired by Vicki Acquah (Mama Oladeji)

God Save the Queen
Long live the King
Hail to the Chief
The Lord of all Lies

I dredged the swamp
For the bombs bursting in air
Oh, say can you see
That justice is blind
That we are all color blind
When all you can see is
The White Hot dawns early light
That might means right
Always fight with the Son at your back
And the darkness in your soul
But don’t be black?
That’s worth the bullets whizzing past
A soldier’s job is never done
Never won
A draft dodger’s never run
Never One
With the multiplicity of our multi-ethnicity
Of a nation of fools
That elects a derelict jester
Who taunts our puppet strings
Strikes the chords of the lamentations of our hearts
Heartless *******!
We are no longer whole
Just a sinking hole
A pit of despair
That stares back at us
Look up
Look down
Stay down
Lock down
Look out!
Here it comes
As above, so below
The devil’s in the details
That are reduced to black and whites
We are weapons of mass confusion
Taking aim
Hiding behind His Wall
To build a nation of prisoners
Too afraid to yell out our battle calls
To seek retribution for our disillusion
To clear up the noise pollution
And fall on our knees
To take a knee
Because we NEED
We are a world of truth benders
Rule breakers
Criminal instigators
Unforeseen fornicators
Ego MasterBaiters
Serial verbal defecators

We are nothing
No One
No where
Just present
At this moment in history
When we realized we ****** up
Hindsight was blind sided
Blinded by the light
Speckled with red, white, and bruises
Masks of shame
That we were complicit in our own downfall
The Fall of Man
The blood is on our hands
Be cause we did not stop
When we knew we could
Because we thought No, meant yes
And that she didn’t really mean it
And Boys will be boys
With their unruly lethal toys
That cuts through what was Right
And Left US divided
Lisa Jul 12
The hierarchy in this country, or rather in the whole world is insane!
It ranks people by skincolor, age, gender, ethnicity and so much more.
Who would be at the top? Who would be #1, in the world rank of every human being.
I guess, you could think of it as a ladder, the higher you go up, the more privileged you are.
The cabinet makes laws, to make sure we are all equal, but biases and stereotypes make it hard, even by law to treat everyone equally.
I guess, the health of one‘s is not as important as the opinion of others.
As an experiment I tried this with a buddy of mine, where we write poems/stories out of 4 randomized words.

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