We Negro writers, just by being black, have been on the blacklist all our lives. Censorship for us begins at the color line.
quote by Langston Hughes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I know that many writers have had to write under censorship and yet produced good novels; for instance, Cervantes wrote Don Quixote under Catholic censorship.
quote by Guillermo Cabrera Infante
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Thursday Afternoon
Her life is a show
One act follows the other everywhere she goes
She takes the leading role
She never plays herself
Save for the time shes on the stage
Color her black or white
Now either one reflects the teardrops
One extreme for the other
Nothing in between
Color her white for the princess she could be
Color her black for the troubled child she plays so well
Well shes dancing through hell on a dream
And blue is soul of the one
Reaching for the man that she hasnt got yet
And holding on to those hearts for lost causes
She could be so bright
But shes reaching for us all
Color her blue for the loneliness she feels
Shes hiding her heart in the sky
And this is a thursday afternoon
Its just another thursday afternoon
Its just another thursday afternoon
Color me grey
Im a little bit of everything today
And Im not sure just where Im going
Color me grey
Wishing I was something more of distinction
Color us all cause were just stars
Wishing our lives away
Into the distance
And out of existence
Color her black or white
Color her blue
Or color me grey
Color us all - were stars
Wishing our lives away
Now were stars
song performed by by Indigo Girls
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Black writers, of whatever quality, who step outside the pale of what black writers are supposed to write about, or who black writers are supposed to be, are condemned to silences in black literary circles that are as total and as destructive as any imposed by racism.
quote by Audre Lorde
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If any man claims the Negro should be content... let him say he would willingly change the color of his skin and go to live in the Negro section of a large city. Then and only then has he a right to such a claim.
quote by Robert Kennedy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Not Like Any Other Color
This is no joke
This is no egg-yoke
Black is not like any other color
Black has its unique beauty
Its own charm and splendor
It is the color of the reality
It is the absence of the sun
It is the exile of the moon
Black is the last color
That we will see before crossing the border.
Black can be positive
Or negative
Depending on someone’s perception
Interest or observation
Because of ignorance
And lack of experience
Many neophytes unfortunately use that color
As a scapegoat, as a traitor
Who can stab in the groin or in the back
Charcoal is black, coffee is black.
At times, it may not be apparent
Black is beautiful and different
It is the color of the night
It is the absence of light
It is the last color
That we will see before crossing the border
Where no color exists afterwards
Where there are no sounds, no words
No opinions, no aroma and no prejudice
There live absolute serenity and peace.
poem by Hebert Logerie
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If any man claims the Negro should be content ... let him say he would willingly change the color of his skin and go to live in the Negro section of a large city. Then and only then has he a right to such a claim.
quote by Robert Francis Kennedy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Color of Change
Red is the color of passion
the color of love
the color of hate
the color of anger
and the color of regret
purple is the color of richness
of happiness
Black is the color of emptiness
Of shame
and of sadness
where is the color of change
Is it between the red and black?
or between the purple and black?
somewhere between the happiness and emptiness
somewhere between the love and the sadness
i believe change is orange
straying away from the dark colors leading towards the red and purple
poem by Athena Macknight
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A Notable Dinner
Once the nation's chief was honored by the company of one,
Who to lift a fallen people had a work of worth begun,
Lofty things had he accomplished for a race so long despised,
In a land where naught but color by the whites are ever prized.
Booker Washington, the teacher, with the president has dined,
Southern whites it gave convulsions, for to such they're not inclined,
'Tis the color, not achievements, that their fancies recognize,
Whites alone receive their plaudits, Negro worth they will not prize.
Roosevelt was censured sorely, half the country writhed and hissed,
Just because he shared his dinner with a Negro—there's the gist—
'Twas the manhood not the color that the president admired,
Souls of worth demand attention, only such his mind desired.
'Down with Washington the 'nigger' and with Roosevelt, because
He has made of him an equal—how offensive to our laws,
Worthy deeds are not for black men' is the constant cry they raise,
'All advancement of such people brings proportionate dispraise.'
Hark! the press begins to clamor, to the South it says 'beware!
Lest equality with 'niggers' in the end we'll have to share;
Anti-nigger is our platform, how to crush a 'nigger' man,
Officers must be elected as resulting from this plan.'
Washington is far above him—-any man who fails to see,
Good when found upon a Negro, from a lack of charity,
See the Southern degradation! view the monster once again,
How it measures deeds of merit by the color of the skin.
Roosevelt was very careful on the choosing of a guest,
Here is what he did for Tillman, in his zeal to have the best,
Cancelled out his invitation and his company refused,
Dined the best of peoples only—other classes he excused.
Down with prejudice and envy! should be wafted to the breeze,
For the Southern slaves of fashion need a prompt and sure release,
In the teachings of the Master while the path of earth He trod,
We've a brotherhood of races and a Fatherhood of God.
poem by Lizelia Augusta Jenkins Moorer
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Writer's Drought
You've heard of a thing called writer's block and you've heard of writer's drought
But writers are never short of things on which they can write about
It's just at times their inspiration well does seem to run dry
And they cannot seem to pen a line though hard enough they try.
The writers drought it causes writers moments of self doubt
Till the words that seem locked in them eventually flow out
Through their pens to their notebooks their dry spells do not last
And on time lost out on penning words they seem to catch up fast.
Some writers in their writing drought cannot seem to feel inspired
To write even a single line they feel mentally tired
But when fresh inspiration comes to them much better stuff they do write
And feeling re-invigorated they sit and pen all night.
Most writers you will talk to of writers drought can tell
When there is no inspiration in their inspiration well
But when inspiration returns to them and their creative juices flow
They become much better writers and in self confidence grow.
poem by Francis Duggan
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What is the color line?
What is the color line?
Can you walk across it? I think not.
Do you need a passport to enter or leave it?
Will I need a visa, and how many days can I stay if I get the permission to embank?
Does it have a borderline?
How wide is this line, and how deep are its seas?
What will happen if I enter without a writ of invitation?
Do I have to be announced?
Is it special clubs in which only members are allowed?
Is it a special place where only a selective few may participate?
Where is this color line, and how can I reach it?
The color line is places deep whiten the darkest part of the subjugations heart.
It’s a place where differences will not be tolerated.
If you do not look like me, walk like me, talk like me, and act like me then you are not welcomed here.
It is a place where only Anglo-Europeans can endeavor to become more.
It’s a place where if you cross you may not return from intact.
It’s a place of aggression, resentment, gratefulness, envy, and jealousy.
The color line cannot be seen nor can it be heard, but it can be felt.
The color line is a wall that cannot be breached by any normal means.
There is no way around or over it.
The strong-arm enforcer of the color line has allies in high and low places.
They cluster together as if they were flies hovering over a beast of burden’s compost.
poem by Wilfred Mellers
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Color Me
I wish that they would color me
The color of the rose
The color of the spring
Or the color of the snow.
If again they’d color me
The color that I would be
Would be the color I could see
As long as I am free.
As I wish that they would color me
The color of the trees
Or the color of the leaves
And then that color I would be.
I wish that I was a rainbow
With the many colors of the sky
Or the single color of a star
Shimmering in the night.
And if again they would color me
The color that I would be
Would be the color that is me
Is the color that I could see.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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But suppose God is black? What if we go to Heaven and we, all our lives, have treated the Negro as an inferior, and God is there, and we look up and He is not white? What then is our response?
quote by Robert Kennedy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Color
Performed by the steeles
Composed by prince
Color me black if u color me just like u
Color me angry if u color me less than I do
(whoa, whats your color? )
Yeah, whats your color?
(whoa, whats your color? )
Whats your color?
Color me happy if u teach me what I need 2 know
Color me gone if u dont, if u dont cuz every child needs 2 grow
This I know
(whoa, whats your color? )
Oh, whats your color, yeah?
I wanna know
(whoa, whats your color? )
Oh, whats your color?
Listen (listen)
Love is my color when Im shown love in return
But when I am not, its a bet u can guess what I have learned
Whats my color?
Hey
Color me green (color me green) if I cannot have what uve got
Color me blue (blue) until I do cuz the fire will shonuff be hot
Yes it will
(whoa, whats your color? )
Whats your color, yeah?
Hey yeah
(whoa, whats your color? )
Whats your color, yeah?
Oh, make me a promise (make me a promise)
Oh, make me a promise (that whatever u color me) that whatever u color me
U will at least color me then I can color u 2
Whats your color?
(whoa, whats your color? )
Whats your color, yeah?
Hey
Color
(whoa, whats your color? )
Whats your color?
(whoa, whats your color? )
Whats your color, yeah?
Whats your color?
Make it love
Whats your color?
Mine is love
(whoa, whats your color? ) yeah
(whoa, whats your color? )
Whats your color?
(whoa, whats your color? )
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Color Blue
the color blue is known to do
something strange to you
this time when i say you it is truly the reader
not the one who i love
not the one pure like a dove
the color blue
seems strange in nature just like you
it stimulates dreams without asking anything in return
nor do most dreams it propagates burn
no the color blue is serene
nice and soft like a moisturizing cream
but there is another color
that is not proved by psychology to stimulate dreams
i call it the color black
though the dreams are nightmares they are grouped in the same sack
with dreams akin like brother though more like an evil twin
the color black seems to always win
by bringing out your nightmares and pain
and sometimes your feelings begin to wain
that gives way to apathy
which leads to your becoming a tapestry, a tapestry
of death for this gives way to being dead
because black is everywhere, in every night
anytime there is no light
black is in you and its in me, how is we aren't dead?
in the end the color black has now become like lead
like a poison true nature forgotten we as humans simply say
black symbolizes death for that is the only way
that we console ourselves
poem by David Knox
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Black+White=My Life
Black-
The color of my soul
White-
The color of my spirit
Together Black and White combined
It all equals my life
The 2 only colors
That are not really colors at all
The story of my life
I am alone
I die slowly and painfully
Not a care in the world
Where I would end up
If only I would survive...
Black-
The color of my Heart
White-
The color of my Hopes and Dreams
Together again Black and White reunite as one
As you can tell
The 2 only colors of my life are Black and White
As if you care
You rather see me suffer in vain
You keep heaeing me say I am alone
Well now you know its true
poem by Makayla Straight
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Red
There are three colores,
Each a meaning,
in its own,
a little more important,
Than the rest.
White is calm, white is blank,
white is pure and white is clean,
white is the color of doves,
white is the color of here and there,
white is pure.
Black is dark, black is full,
Black is absent and black is stained,
Black is the color of night,
Black is the color of life and death,
Black is dark.
There is one other to say,
The one that flows within,
This color is not white,
but it is pure,
this color is not black,
But it is dark,
This color is all,
It is calm, it is blank,
It is dark, it is full,
both pure and stained,
clean and absent,
it is life it is death,
it is here and it is there,
this is the color,
of everything,
It is red.
poem by Rebecca Adams
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I suppose that writers should, in a way, feel flattered by the censorship laws. They show a primitive fear and dread at the fearful magic of print.
quote by John Mortimer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I love the line of Flaubert about observing things very intensely. I think our duty as writers begins not with our own feelings, but with the powers of observing.
quote by Mary Oliver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Color Me Blind
I had a dream,
Last night I was blind
And I couldnt see
Color of any kind
Picture the world,
Minus a rainbow
When day becomes night,
Then where will the sun go
Dancing alone,
Just me and my shadow
Color me blind,
So I can see no evil
Why do we dream,
In black and white?
Color me blind
Why do we dream
In black and white?
Color me blind
I had a dream,
I was looking, over the mountain
But ive, Ive yet to see the,
The so-called promised land
Picture the world,
Without any color
You couldnt tell,
One face from the other
I dont understand
Why we fight with our brother
Color me blind
Just to love one another
Color me, color you,
Color me blind
song performed by by Extreme
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We Dream In Color
Dream sequence
(wake up, wake up, wake up, time to dream)
(wake up, time to dream)
We dream, we dream, we dream in color
Wake me up in the middle of the night, tell me what youve seen
Ivory clouds in a sea of blue, fields of endless green
But we lie here and we search for stars
Or big bad letters all the way from mars
The sky is black and the moon is pale, and we cry for this world of ours
In the dark we still believe (oh you know that we still believe)
In the dark we see
Chorus:
We dream in color - but we live in black and white
We dream in color - like a rainbow in the night
We dream of peace, we dream of love, but still the dream is not enough
We dream in color
Oh yes we dream
I wake up in the middle of the day, locked within this cell
The sun is weak on the gun gray street, a cold and concrete hell
So I close my eyes and remember the days
Of a blood red sky and a purple haze
The flag was yours and the flag was mine, but we let it fade away
In the dark we still believe (oh you know that we still believe)
In the dark we see
We dream in color - but we live in black and white
We dream in color - like a rainbow in the night
We dream of peace, we dream of love, but still the dream is not enough
We dream in color
(guitar solo)
This is where it all comes down, this is where the truth is found
Someones gotta keep this dream alive
We dream in color - but we live in black and white
We dream in color - like a rainbow in the night
We dream of peace, we dream of love, we dream of life!
We dream in color
We dream in color - we dream, yes we dream
We dream in color - but we live in black and white
We dream in color - and hold on to each other
We dream in color - lover to lover, sister to brother, we hold on
We dream in color
We dream in color - we dream
We dream in color - we dream...
song performed by by Starship
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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