"throwbacks" poems
White folks: pack your bags and go.
Our nut-brown world is quite offended.
Make your shame-faced exit NOW,
And leave your mansions unattended.
Wait—before you pass the doors,
It's time to settle ethnic scores.
No more ragtime Minstrel Show.
Our Moorish Science took it down.
Black lives matter. White, less so—
Now move your pale face out of town . . .
But first, shell out for racial shame
Caucasian losers of the game.
Cultural pride is ours alone:
Kings and Egyptian queens we were.
The glories of our race, well-known
Bedazzle in a darkened blur
(Clear to Africa's descendants—
Puzzling to you white dependents).
Blackness lent your world its light,
Taught the Dutch to tend those flowers.
Scandinavia grew bright
Under our beneficent powers.
Negroes gave your blondes their beauty;
Helped those Norsemen shake their *****
The Seven Wonders of the world:
We built them all. No vain conjecture
Dims our banner, black, unfurled,
Above eternal architecture.
Arts and knowledge gained from us
Are what we threaten to discuss.
We invented math and science
Which you robbed from Timbuktu.
Swarthy wisdom's brave defiance
Caused Old Europe to renew.
All our treasure that you plundered
Testifies: your days are numbered.
Classics of our Greeks you stole:
Philosophy was never yours.
Shame upon your racist soul;
For Bach and Mozart both were Moors.
Misappropriated treasures
call for ruthless hard-line measures.
Latino fate falls next—but, where ?
Jews, Turks, and Arabs: are you. . . white ?
Orientals everywhere:
Choose your side and join the fight.
Blackness rising! Late the hour;
Heed your call to fight the power.
Crackers need to check your race—
Stop rooting for that ****** clown.
Rednecks all up in our face;
Racist throwbacks got us down.
But as your statues bite the dust
Your light goes dark (you know it must).
So move on out, oppressor, thief.
Long have you held our nation back.
In some white galaxy seek relief—
But here the light itself is black.
Stars are racist. So is the sun.
Now let God's great black will be done.
Sep 23, 2017
Sep 23, 2017 at 12:03 PM UTC
The Annual POCU Fashion Show held by the campus organization “People of Color United,” was held in the Student Activities Center on Saturday, April 18. The fashion show is the final activity of the year held by POCU. Junior Martell Prayear and senior Miranda Jackson were the show’s hosts and announcers.
The fashion show is a competition where various designers, or teams of designers, are required to create outfits that adhere to a general theme, but also incorporate the designer’s unique, personal concepts. This year, the general theme for the fashion show was: Thrift Shop. Each designer, or group of designers, was required to utilize clothes purchased from the local Goodwill and maintain a $50 budget. Preparations for the event, Jackson said, were very short. “I was really surprised how well it turned out, because we started practicing for the show at four o’clock that day,” Jackson said. “They typically start practicing way a head of time.” Despite the delayed preparation, the fashion show was an overall success. The first designer to present at the fashion show was Victoria Webster.
Webster’s fashion line was inspired by professional work attire. “I think it can be hard transitioning college wear into professional wear, on a budget,” Webster said of her outfits. Webster was able to find three models to wear the clothes, which she said was a combination of the model’s personal items, as well as those purchased through Goodwill. The second fashion line presented at the fashion show was designed by Iyana Lynch. For her personal theme, Lynch designed outfits that were inspired by the different seasons. The third designer to present that evening was Alyssa Nieset. Inspired by 90’s menswear, Nieset designed a line of androgynous outfits. The final clothing line presented was a team effort from: Jeanita Blue and Angel Powell.
Their theme was considered “90’s Reloaded,” and featured various throwbacks to 1990’s pop culture such as TLC and The Spice Girls. Blue said that most of the outfits in their fashion line were inspired by “eco-friendly fashion,” and were intended to decrease hesitation toward shopping at thrift stores. While the judges finalized the scores for each designer or team, the Urban Dance Association entertained the crowd with a quick performance. The judge’s scores resulted in a tie between Jeanita Blue & Angel Powell, and Iyana Lynch. Despite the general tie, Blue and Powell were awarded first place, while Lynch was granted second place. There was an off-campus reception held in Cleveland after the event. Read more here:www.marieaustralia.com/purple-formal-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/green-formal-dresses
May 4, 2015
May 4, 2015 at 10:36 PM UTC
looking
through my gallery
to find the epitome of throwbacks
to be posted on social media
the struggle
i’m tired
thinking out loud
on what’s really important
the memories gone
or
the present ?
Oct 29, 2020
Oct 29, 2020 at 12:18 PM UTC
I went to Justin Ploof and the Throwbacks Creedence Clearwater Reviva Tribute concert it was a lot of fun it made me feel like I was a Fortunate Son even though I'm a lady
I thought of flowers and psychedelic colors or maybe that was the effect of colorful lights on stage
I saw some people Down In The Corner break out in a dance at least it was peaceful not enraged
I think the crowd went a little crazy when the Bad Moon Rising played I was encouraged by some friends to get out of my seat when they pulled on my hands and we raised our hands to the band
The blast from the past took people on a trip to memory lane ending the rockumentary with Proud Mary, I wish you could have been there my friends!
Nov 9, 2013
Nov 9, 2013 at 11:54 PM UTC
I watched him go away
An eerie silence engulfed me
No,not just like that
Words came but stopped midway
Mistakes,some here some there
Stay,my heart echoed
He traced his steps
In thin air,and vanished
Someone like the bright sunshine
Came in my life with an unusual vibe
Picturesque was he,
Like a moonlit night
So we stood apart
A promise broken by an eye contact
Alone shall we live in this mystery land
A dream of us walking hand in hand
And very soon
You become a hallucination
Are you there or are you not?
Questions my empty heart
I am still living
Surviving unknowingly
Smiling only at our throwbacks
Rest is blur and unclear
My tears have dried
Still alarmingly fresh are my memories
They hit me,jolt me,tear me apart
Like a scary bolt of lightning
And by each passing day
My prayers for you widen
May your life brighten
Is all I murmur
Buzzing starts my day
Without you my songs play
My face is calm and at peace
But my heart still bleeds
Your one sole look
Can **** me apart
My mistakes again
Being reborn
What left's now
Is all grey and dark
A quenching tale
An eerie silence
Mar 4, 2015
Mar 4, 2015 at 2:57 AM UTC
Stop looking at me like you look up to me,
and start looking like you're in love with me.
Forget those spiders,
cut yourself free.
Get into my orbit.
Talk me through my destruction.
I'll distract you from yours.
I'll put on that tie you like,
and you will wear that black dress.
We will pretend we invented fashion.
You will get the eyes.
I will get the eyes.
Get into my orbit.
I'll tell you anything you'd like.
I wouldn't mind if you would cover me with night,
and silently rest your head next to mine.
Stop looking at me like you look up to me,
and start looking at me as if you can set me free.
I only see you in fevers of inappropriate dreams,
you only speak to me when everyone else you know is asleep.
I will make coffee,
you will bring a sewing kit.
We will talk about finding the bottom
of the human soul on drunken nights.
We will say **** the indie kids
and the 70s throwbacks.
We will wear swimsuits
when no one is around.
We will talk with good humor
about what we'd say at the apocalypse's final address.
Get into my orbit.
We'll compare scars and run from all our old towns.
Stop looking at me like you look up to me,
and start rewriting yourself with me.
Aug 23, 2010
Aug 23, 2010 at 11:20 AM UTC
I've used up the speed I used to need
Running hard at walls
All I got was blood and snot
And a boot in the *****
But it's not over
Nothing's done
Oh no
The fight goes on
I've had knock backs from throwbacks
And been ridiculed by imbeciles
Half wits have had their say too
But I will never give in
The fight goes on
On and on
Until I change their minds
By Phil Roberts
May 31, 2016
May 31, 2016 at 2:45 AM UTC
SOMEWHERE you and I remember we came.
Stairways from the sea and our heads dripping.
Ladders of dust and mud and our hair snarled.
Rags of drenching mist and our hands clawing, climbing.
You and I that snickered in the crotches and corners, in the gab of our first talking.
Red dabs of dawn summer mornings and the rain sliding off our shoulders summer afternoons.
Was it you and I yelled songs and songs in the nights of big yellow moons?
1.2k
Whispers from deep voices that seemingly deteriorate;
We chorused into the thunderous sound of that old cello.
Not a harmony we could ever create,
This is not what I intend, everything turned askew.
That old pendulum is swaying to its usual way,
A resemblance of our long gone grieves
It was an affair crammed with dismay.
But darling, you've got your demons now;
Down to the age of your throwbacks, stupefying you every now and then
And here I am, still that vigilant somehow.
The double six tragedy was indeed an epic.
Distance, silence, timing, all falling into an illusion,
And yes, that was your treacherous scheme, making me even more frantic
But life never stops there, in the end there would still be an affirmation.
Jul 22, 2013
Jul 22, 2013 at 10:12 PM UTC
The patter of an early evening rainstorm awakens her
and she untangles her sweaty limbs from those of her lover.
The sun has begun to set;
the thrill of adventure calls to her once more.
He begins to stir, awoken by her chaotic movements;
And lazily admires her beauty as she sifts through mounds of overdue laundry,
still smelling of suntan lotion and chlorine,
in search of the perfect shirt.
She’s late, as always,
She can hear her friends are outside in the car -
blasting throwbacks and spilling drinks
as the laugh and scream for her to hurry.
They fly through the night -
windows open letting the cool breeze filter the air thick of smoke and jubilance
All too eager to reach their destination;
moon children growing restless under the stars.
The ocean calls her home and its salty air clears her mind
as flames shoot out of the fire,
crackling and popping in the midnight sky.
Cheers are heard as bottles are passed;
pulling her head back out of the clouds.
Champagne to welcome the sunrise,
whiskey to bid summer adieu.
Daylight begins to break -
she takes one last drag of her cigarette and turns to go.
He’s still sleeping when she arrives,
this time she’s more careful not to wake him when she leaves.
The morning dew on bare feet remind her it’s time to move on -
the mountains are calling her name and to them she would roam;
it was always temporary,
changing with the seasons.
But to him -
she tasted like skittles,
and she smelled like summer;
one he would never forget.
Sep 21, 2017
Sep 21, 2017 at 4:31 AM UTC
I've used up the speed I used to need
Running hard at walls
All I got was blood and snot
And a large boot in the *****
But it's not over
Nothing's done
Oh no
The fight goes on
I've had knock backs from throwbacks
And been ridiculed by imbeciles
Half wits have had their say too
But eventually I'll get through
The fight goes on
On and on
Until I change their minds
By Phil Roberts
Dec 6, 2016
Dec 6, 2016 at 4:52 AM UTC
I've used up the speed I used to need
Running hard at walls
All I got was blood and snot
And a large boot in the *****
But it's not over
Nothing's done
Oh no
The fight goes on
I've had knock backs from throwbacks
And been ridiculed by imbeciles
Half wits have had their say too
But eventually I'll get through
The fight goes on
On and on
Until I change their minds
By Phil Roberts
Mar 3, 2017
Mar 3, 2017 at 1:47 PM UTC
******* sniffing, love eluded, ill informed with ill intentions,
You never bothered to say bye but that doesn't matter if nothing mattered after I said hi, ******* you heartbreaking ***** of a lover, before this even started it was over, now I'm wishing for death, looking like death warmed over, but all of that's besides the point, if you called, I'd still come over,
And I hate myself for that
I'll never get it back,
Kissed my life goodbye when I skipped Bible study with you to get high, haven't prayed in a minute, I'm not the closest with the Big Guy, and I know that,
Wish I spent my time worrying more about the future than I do about the throwbacks, nostalgia vulture, upset at you for caring less about the world and caring more about the culture
It's getting weirder for me to be here, look at her smile, wish I could fix her
We were walking down the sidewalk and you hated your mother so much that you went out of your way to step on every crack,
You were bad for me, but I knew that, I kept singing your song, even if my voice cracked, because I loved you, but don't worry too much, I'd ******* **** myself before I wanted you back,
And I know it doesn't seem that way when you're all I can write about,
But I'm only writing it down because it's all I can think about, and I think you like that
I kept the fear in my mouth
I kept the fear in my mouth
I kept the fear in my mouth
I kept the fear in my mouth and I wanted to use the gun to shoot it out but I ended up just swallowing it and using it as the inspiration to write this, I hope you don't mind
Been awake since you left because I can't sleep without sleeping on your side of the bed, and I don't want to,
I spend my days writing letters with no return address because I don't want you to write back, not that you even would, but besides that, I've been wreckless without you,
I ******* hated alcohol before you, but I spend my nights drunk as fire thinking about what I'd do to get the time back,
I miss you, wait **** that, sorry, that's just the wine talk,
No I'm not sorry, **** you and everything that you came with,
**** you and all the demons you came with,
You molded me into everything you wish I would've came with,
Sculpted my cracks into smooth creases, you made me brain dead,
But besides that
I might just have to turn cold and heartless, it's not like you've given me any other option
That's all for now, I'm sure there'll be a next time, until then,
Just remember who gave up
Apr 14, 2017
Apr 14, 2017 at 1:41 PM UTC
Rap game is a glass ceiling,
Shucky ducky quack quack,
Lame ***** reeling,
Over oldies and throwbacks.
Imitating vaudevillians,
Because originality has flattened,
Such simpletons,
More useless than pions,
Lacking the accuracy,
Of a destructo-disc thrown by Krillin.
Tacky ducks more quack than Daffy.
Quirky queens more dunce than Daphne.
The mystery is in the ink that separates,
The Shaggy’s from the prodigies.
Could stab a friend in the back,
For snacks like Scooby.
Not much of a strategy.
It’s like your trying to intentionally,
Upset a Wookie.
Maybe your just tone deaf,
Like Eminem referencing the dougie,
Or make dad jokes more horrific than Chucky.
Get it?
Because chucky is a horror movie?
Why aren’t you laughing?
Rap game is a glass ceiling,
Shucky ducky quack quack,
Lame ***** reeling,
Over oldies and throwbacks.
Ll cool j don’t call it a comeback,
Slavery of the masses,
Taking Prozac,
To combat malpractice,
Depression a felon inside and outside,
Laws becoming lawless and unbalanced,
Innocents committing suicide,
Because the powerful are careless,
These ******* should be embarrassed,
That their privileged ***
Can fake smiles enough to win Emmy’s
Minds material madness.
Gotta mind your true enemy.
Instead of being consumed by fadness.
Losing ones humanity,
To become the next Ken or Barbie.
But you too bad and boujee,
A hollow shell stuck in comatose,
Consumed by the sea,
Set up to fall like dominos,
Thinking you free,
But can’t see,
As the crows grow,
Bundled in circles,
As your drowning,
In asbestos,
For every pro there are cons that lurk in the shadows.
Jan 6, 2021
Jan 6, 2021 at 4:04 PM UTC
I've used up the speed I used to need
Running hard at walls
All I got was blood and snot
And a boot in the *****
But it's not over
Nothing's done
Oh no
The fight goes on
I've had knock backs from throwbacks
And been ridiculed by imbeciles
Half wits have had their say too
But I will never give in
The fight goes on
On and on
Until I change their minds
By Phil Roberts
Sep 20, 2016
Sep 20, 2016 at 3:03 AM UTC