"poc" poems
To those who protest on why they should say the word *****
Unfollow me
To those whose heart does not mourn over an innocent life of POC
Unfollow me
To those who yell "go back to Africa"
Unfollow me
if you cannot comprehend that your ancestors where not here first
To those who fail to understand their white privilege
Unfollow me
To those who scream out "what about black on black crime"
Unfollow me
If you're blind to the multiple genocide your people create and label as "war"
To those who simply choose to ignore this injustice
Unfollow me for no action at all is the greatest injustice of all
Nov 25, 2014
Nov 25, 2014 at 3:55 AM UTC
this is for the queer kids
who are taught their ABC's
but not their L's, G's, B's and T's
for the Russian government and the I.O.C
who deny Russian queers their visibility
to the people who call me ******
i wear your name-calling like a pink triangle
stitched to my sleeve
for the Harvey Milk's, the Christine Burns'
and every queer in between
to the allies who do more than say
"your sexuality is okay with me"
for the Jamaican trans* teen
who was murdered needlessly
to the television networks
who portray LGBT individuals positively
for the radical queers
the POC queers
the genderqueers
the queers who have felt excluded
this is for you
for us
this is a celebration
and an ultimatum
we are here
we are queer
& we will do more
than survive.
Aug 15, 2013
Aug 15, 2013 at 10:42 AM UTC
a:\>_about_race_
oh, back in civil rights times
i would have been right
beside you fighting...
oh, what the hell you mean?
there-s no such thing as
racist police,
the conversation
should be about
black-on-black violence...
besides if he pulled up his pants
he wouldn-t have been profiled then
sure, mlk was killed in a suit,
but he was speakin' wild, man...
oh, and besides, i don-t see race,
i have colorblindness...
except if a poc gets a job over me,
then that-s the only
reason why they hired him...
why do we talk about racism,
it doesn-t exist, for
godssake can-t you see we have
a black president...
oh, please don-t play the race-card,
besides no one is more discriminated
against than we are...
oh, blacks shouldn-t say the n-word,
just cuz of how dreadful it sounds
oh, since we are best friends
can i say 'nigga' now, huh?
you won-t let me say it???
that-s discrimination! things are
different now, you are no longer
in enslavement...
catch up with this nation,
catch up with the times,
this isn-t about race,
why don-t you admit it?
just because i-m white doesn-t
mean i have privilege...
i mean open your eyelids,
i know blacks never got
indentured servitude
but for a second,
can we focus on the irish?
they suffered too, even if they
won-t subjected to
the same **** kidnapping,
mental breakdown to force subjugation,
and violence.
sure we always ostracized black people
but y-all put y-allselves on an island
y-all will get more respect if y-all just
stop embracing your race, your heritage
stop calling yourselves black
and african-american,
just call yourselves american
stop complaining,
and just be silent
i don-t like talking about race
so much controversy surrounds it...
you know the only way to stop
racism is just don-t talk about it.
j:\>_j_c_c_
May 19, 2015
May 19, 2015 at 6:56 PM UTC
my loves, the many accumulated mn-
eumonic responses play'd on future
women. ideas based on the poiv-
rottes of idealized affectation past.
cesspools emptied by the horse-tanks
with stelth in the night, but the-
re couldn't be much stealth for a target
reeking of **** and convalescence.
sadness and that odor would
hang heavy in the first cold rains
of winter. transplanting thoughts,
always transplanted emotions of
subjugation. she was waiting for
someone, this now past but once
future poivrotte. feet to be
knock'd from under, body to find
lulling embrace. mind the levitat-
ing affect. mind, the missing
portion of our feint'd love.
and
- I was always empty and
both sad and happy
with a third-class train ride, at
mon poivrottes' expense of mentality.
we could used to lay together talk-
king in adult tones through our
child mouths. remembering to poc-
ket fruit to retain our breakfast
from freezing. speaking no truer
words than those utter'd while
embraced. words from the mou-
ths of us children. truer words
never could be counterfeit, never
could be spoken without loss of
conscience. Cezanne-dreams of color,
Impressionist subconscious,
j'adore mon poivrottes. feasting of mo-
vement and staining all around with
the strong cafe au lait. follow'd aper-
itif, following digestifs, following back
to lie. to flow words from our child mo-
uths, we would walk paths through the
woods in the Autumn twilight. the trees
were sculptures having their leaves
stripped bare. walking alongside, we walk'd
ourselves down the same separate path.
Feb 17, 2013
Feb 17, 2013 at 4:54 PM UTC
the boy has a match
in his back poc ket. hovering
janky steps
sheathed by fluffy ice
chest reverb erates
as a single rain drop
trickled in pinful loop...
theforestwaits
Undisturbed
not wanting to be burnt but he rations
not wanting anything at all.
in destroying one makes something
whence once
there was nothing. he
s t r i k e s the match aflame and alive,
l
o
w ering it fit to spread
and surely cause his life some havoc... havoc...
havochavochavoc
HAVOC
H A V O C
havoc;
he ruminates the meaning of the word a while
and settles
on it being better than boring old nothing.
Aug 21, 2019
Aug 21, 2019 at 11:32 PM UTC
i don't have a poem, but a plea.
hello poetry is an escape from real life for a lot of us, me included, but real life needs us right now.
the #blacklivesmatter movement is louder than ever and if you're not a person of color, or if you are but you also benefit from the system in place that depends on the destruction of black and brown people, now is your time to stand up.
stand with those at the protests, use your voice, your platform, your privilege to raise up your fellow black voices. and educate yourself on whats going on if you haven't already, because this is just the beginning.
this is global now. all over the world people in countries like UK, Germany, Canada, and many others are taking to the streets in a peaceful protest of the ****** of Georgoe Floyd, and so so many other Black men and women. a protest of the blatent police brutality in cities all over the world, brutality that mainly targets black skinned and brown skinned people. a protest for real honest ******* change, that will ripple through country to country.
this is a revolution. do not be silent.
go out and protest if you can. donate to the georgefloyd gofundme, to the bail outs for the protesters who were wrongfully arrested. spread awareness where you can. lift up black and other poc voices, and don't give up.
May 31, 2020
May 31, 2020 at 10:45 PM UTC
I never even knew I was different. And by different I mean not white.
My mom has green eyes and light skin with freckles. She has brown hair that beautifully sprouts white strands sometimes, but she's never not beautiful. Or never not has green eyes, or light skin with freckles.
I have brown skin. No freckles, and eyes that look like almonds that didn't make it into the bag, in shape and color. My skin is dry. Except my face. My skin is more than one shade of brown, especially on my face. My skin is stretched. Never been tight. My skin reminds me of a potato, not so much "cafe con leche" like my nana says.
I grew up in this white town, with white people, and white expectations. I was never allowed not to act like a child because children of color are barely seen as children. I was never allowed to run or yell like the white kids on the playground because that made me look like I hadn't been "raised right".
I could never sit on the lunch benches outside like the other kids because the yard-ladies would only see my brown skin in the sea of whiteness and only tell me to not sit there.
I could never struggle in academics because that meant my hispanic mother didn't invest in my "academic success" and CPS would show up and ask me questions about whether my mom loved me or not. My mom worked three jobs, and saw us for less than three hours a day. she worked so she could invest in our success.
I couldn't say I was hungry because that meant my family was too poor and couldn't feed me. And then have CPS show up and ask to see the fridge. [I wasn't actually hungry, it's just that by the time I was 7 I had developed an eating disorder because I had no idea how to cope with anxiety].
I could never not listen to authority because it wasn't teenage rebellion, it would qualify me for special behavior programs targeted towards "troubled youth" and we all know that's code for "kids of color who won't make it past without being put in jail, being ***** pregnant at least once, or dying-- and by dying I mean killed by the system... choose any system because they're all designed to **** POC anyway".
I could never play in the sun during the summer with my white latinx cousins because the sun is not a brown girl's friend. The sun made my skin dark and made my aunt's hiss about my color to my mom and how she shouldn't let us out without sunscreen because we'd turn into "negritas", and that's what we shouldn't want.
I could never love myself because that doesn't exist when you aren't white. I mean, how do you love a body with thick brown hair, cracked skin, and a nose that doesn't look like Cinderella's? I mean, how can you love a body that doesn't look like anyone in the new J-14 magazine? I mean how do you love a body that's never seen the sun because she's scared of being too dark because then shes's ugly? I mean, how does a brown girl even love herself?
Feb 7, 2019
Feb 7, 2019 at 1:54 AM UTC
This is America
Where it is legal to **** a trans or lgbtq person
This is America
Where POC fear just going for a run or speaking
This is America
Where our president is a known ****** predator
This is America
Where only 6% of the monsters go to jail
This is America
Where I'm ashamed to be
This is America
Where I hate to be
May 19, 2020
May 19, 2020 at 8:15 PM UTC
Oh oh my identity
You must recognize me
Fashist is bad
We am good
We is genderqweer
We am POC
Whiten mens is dangerous
Bee more GenderRaceIdentity konshus
This are POETRY.
Feel me.
May 13, 2023
May 13, 2023 at 11:03 AM UTC
1 An aura radiates from her
2 I see red, yellow
3 Swinging her soft sepia shaded hair
4 She turns to look at me
5 Enticing ebony eyes
6 Beautiful brown, bare skin
7 A gorgeous woman
8 She smiles so slowly
9 Passionate, prosperous, perfect
10 She’s so perfect
11 The highlight on her nose
12 And cheekbones
13 They shine so bright
14 Red, like love
15 Intelligence is immune
16 To the ignorance that surrounds her
17 A woman of color
18 Never knew anything other than
19 “Sit straight, speak up, stop,
20 Shake it off”
21 Knew nothing but struggle
22 Yellow, like the sun
23 Beauty beams bright
24 Long lasting light
25 She stands strong.
Jan 22, 2018
Jan 22, 2018 at 12:13 PM UTC