The whites come to applaud a Negro performer just like the colored do. When you've got the respect of white and colored, you can ease a lot of things.
quote by Nat King Cole
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
The Painter (Ang Pintor)
The Painter...
He colored the sky
He colored the sea
and even the mountains
and the field.
The Painter...
He colored the roses
and even the birds
and animals
in the farm.
The Painter...
even my life...
He colored.
But the Painter,
I guess no one
have seen Him yet.
The Painter...
can anyone paint the colors
of His life?
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
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My Father Is A Retired Magician
(for ifa, p.t., & bisa)
my father is a retired magician
which accounts for my irregular behavior
everythin comes outta magic hats
or bottles wit no bottoms & parakeets
are as easy to get as a couple a rabbits
or 3 fifty cent pieces/ 1958
my daddy retired from magic & took
up another trade cuz this friend of mine
from the 3rd grade asked to be made white
on the spot
what cd any self-respectin colored american magician
do wit such a outlandish request/ cept
put all them razzamatazz hocus pocus zippity-do-dah
thingamajigs away cuz
colored chirren believin in magic
waz becomin politically dangerous for the race
& waznt nobody gonna be made white
on the spot just
from a clap of my daddy's hands
& the reason i'm so peculiar's
cuz i been studyin up on my daddy's technique
& everythin i do is magic these days
& it's very colored
very now you see it/ now you
dont mess wit me
i come from a family of retired
sorcerers/ active houngans & pennyante fortune tellers
wit 41 million spirits critturs & celestial bodies
on our side
i'll listen to yr problems
help wit yr career yr lover yr wanderin spouse
make yr grandma's stay in heaven more gratifyin
ease yr mother thru menopause & show yr son
how to clean his room
YES YES YES 3 wishes is all you get
scarlet ribbons for yr hair
benwa balls via hong kong
a miniature of machu picchu
all things are possible
but aint no colored magician in her right mind
gonna make you white
i mean
this is blk magic
you lookin at
& i'm fixin you up good/ fixin you up good n colored
& you gonna be colored all yr life
& you gonna love it/ bein colored/ all yr life/ colored & love it
love it/ bein colored/
Spell #7 from Upnorth-Outwest Geechee Jibara Quik Magic Trance Manual for Technologically Stressed Third World People
poem by Ntozake Shange
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The Negro Schools
Please be silent now, my country, while I fill the speaker's place;
While I point out some abuses that we constantly embrace,
Listen with your best attention to the words that I shall say,
How the Negro schools are managed, in this Commonwealth today.
All the officers are white men and together they conspire,
To undo the schools for Negroes, of such deeds they never tire;
Oft we find among the trustees men who cannot read a word,
But when speaking of the Negro, they are certain to be heard.
Education for the Negro they discourage, and they say,
'It will bring dissatisfaction to such people ev'ry day,
Make them crave for something higher, such as white men should enjoy,
Which will spoil the other Negroes that we have in our employ.'
Shorter terms are recommended many times as low as two
Are the months to Negroes given, in a year—now this is true,
Longer terms the whites are given in the same communities—
They conform to such a standard of the right with perfect ease.
Poorer pay to Negro teachers, driving good ones from the field,
Schools are let to lowest bidders to the same they're forced to yield,
Higher pay and better teachers for the white schools is the cry.
While encouragement is given Negro schools to starve and die.
Rural libraries established for the whites on ev'ry side,
But when application's made for Negro schools it is denied,
Thus they deal with education for the mass of Negro youth,
Posing still as great exponents and conservers of the truth.
From the sword of fierce Goliath we may all a lesson learn,
How while planning death to others on your head it may return,
In regard to schools for Negroes, cease their welfare to neglect,
For the same will come upon you in a way you least expect.
poem by Lizelia Augusta Jenkins Moorer
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Theme for English B
The instructor said,
Go home and write
a page tonight.
And let that page come out of you--
Then, it will be true.
I wonder if it's that simple?
I am twenty-two, colored, born in Winston-Salem.
I went to school there, then Durham, then here
to this college on the hill above Harlem.
I am the only colored student in my class.
The steps from the hill lead down into Harlem,
through a park, then I cross St. Nicholas,
Eighth Avenue, Seventh, and I come to the Y,
the Harlem Branch Y, where I take the elevator
up to my room, sit down, and write this page:
It's not easy to know what is true for you or me
at twenty-two, my age. But I guess I'm what
I feel and see and hear, Harlem, I hear you:
hear you, hear me--we two--you, me, talk on this page.
(I hear New York, too.) Me--who?
Well, I like to eat, sleep, drink, and be in love.
I like to work, read, learn, and understand life.
I like a pipe for a Christmas present,
or records--Bessie, bop, or Bach.
I guess being colored doesn't make me not like
the same things other folks like who are other races.
So will my page be colored that I write?
Being me, it will not be white.
But it will be
a part of you, instructor.
You are white--
yet a part of me, as I am a part of you.
That's American.
Sometimes perhaps you don't want to be a part of me.
Nor do I often want to be a part of you.
But we are, that's true!
As I learn from you,
I guess you learn from me--
although you're older--and white--
and somewhat more free.
This is my page for English B.
poem by Langston Hughes
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Jim Crow Cars
If within the cruel Southland you have chanced to take a ride,
You the Jim Crow cars have noticed, how they crush a Negro's pride,
How he pays a first class passage and a second class receives,
Gets the worst accommodations ev'ry friend of truth believes.
'Tis the rule that all conductors, in the service of the train,
Practice gross discriminations on the Negro—such is plain—
If a drunkard is a white man, at his mercy Negroes are,
Legalized humiliation is the Negro Jim Crow car.
'Tis a license given white men, they may go just where they please,
In the white man's car or Negro's will they move with perfect ease,
If complaint is made by Negroes the conductor will go out
Till the whites are through carousing, then he shows himself about.
They will often raise a riot, butcher up the Negroes there,
Unmolested will they quarrel, use their pistols,rant and swear,
They will smoke among the ladies though offensive the cigar;
'Tis the place to drink their whiskey, in the Negro Jim Crow car.
If a Negro shows resistance to his treatment by a tough,
At some station he's arrested for the same, though not enough,
He is thrashed or lynched or tortured as will please the demon's rage,
Mobbed, of course, by 'unknown parties,' thus is closed the darkened page.
If a lunatic is carried, white or black, it is the same,
Or a criminal is taken to the prison-house in shame,
In the Negro car he's ushered with the sheriff at his side,
Out of deference for white men in their car he scorns to ride.
We despise a Negro's manhood, says the Southland, and expect,
All supremacy for white men—black men's rights we'll not protect,
This the Negro bears with patience for the nation bows to might,
Wrong has borne aloft its colors disregarding what is right.
This is called a Christian nation, but we fail to understand,
How the teachings of the Bible can with such a system band;
Purest love that knows no evil can alone the story tell,
How to banish such abuses, how to treat a neighbor well.
poem by Lizelia Augusta Jenkins Moorer
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Can I Dry Clean?
washing the clean linen in dirty water,
makes the clothes to be dirty and colored,
white clothe will invite the color of contrast,
color of the water that it is dipped into.
When we think of the ills and manipulate with evils,
the souls that are born white, will be colored,
when we wash the evil thoughts in evil solutions,
our souls will be soiled, colored and in illusion.
believing the color that we possess is the brightest,
If it is the brightest of white, as white is pure,
then it is all right, even if we are in other colors,
don't worry, it can be bleached to white.
White and black are two extreme colors,
with extreme characters and properties,
when the white reflects everything as good actions,
the black absorbs everything as the mother nature.
Between these two colors,
there are thousands of colors,
blending of seven colors of rain bow,
where we live and be happy and sorrow.
Washing the clean linen of any color,
in the water of dirt and sediment,
will make the linen dirty and soiled,
Where shall we find the clean water,
to wash our dirty souls of multiple colors?
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Why Do They Leave?
Oh why do they leave
Oh why do they leave
On the day that you needed them the most
Simple cards and things
Rose colored sunsets no flowers for me
Simple cards and things
Rose colored sunsets no flowers for me
Lover why do you leave
Lover why do you leave
On the day I want you for me
Say say it aint so
That he will take you tomorrow
And I will sit here today
The worst
Simple cards and things
Rose colored sunsets no flowers for me
Simple cards and things
Rose colored sunsets curtains for me
Lover why do you leave
Lover why do you leave
On the day I want you to be
The one
song performed by by Ryan Adams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Acid-colored Winter Within Thy Heart
Acid-colored Winter Within Thy Heart
Feeding lies directly into Thy veins
A blanket of white lies covers Thy soul
An Acid-colored Winter blizzard wanes.
Thy heart is clouded with uncertainty
Confusion is pumped throughout Thy mind
Blurring Thy vision like a cold winter storm
Leaving sanity far behind.
Feelings of fear and pain alike
Sting like acid vapors swirling inside
What could cause this fear filled joy
Leaving my emotions bound and hogtied?
The very first time we kissed
Left Thy emotions torn apart
Leaving a helpless void inside
Like an Acid-colored Winter Within Thy Heart.
poem by J.R. Reynolds
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Oh How To Find Silence In the World
Being spotted in the color of skin,
why I take care in San Francisco,
waiting for the bus to Iowa.
They say racial prejudice is strong,
Negros and not whites kawawa,
and because of this they will revolt.
I shiver and shiver from fear and hunger
because I just landed from Tokyo.
A Negro came into the station—
naka-African hairdo; he holds a small
whip: it’s scary to look, so
I did not look at him. Kumakalansing
the metal on the strings of his shoes
and he shouts, “Peace, brothers!” Smiled showing
white teeth. Looked at me—
maybe he laughed at what he saw—
a tiny dayuhan, dark and from
some lupalog. Upside down
my insides went in fright and pulled
a cigarette so the redness of my face
wouldn’t show. I nahalata
that the Whites there too were quiet
so quiet, unable to speak in front
of that Negro. Only when he left returned
the normalcy in the station—others
read again, neighbors gossiped again,
laughter, the janitor sweeped again.
After a while that Negro passed again
two white Americanas on each arm,
blonde, their beauty with no equal.
The janitor stopped sweeping.
I thought, “So this is racial prejudice.”
poem by Cirilo Bautista
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Orange Colored Sky
Nat king cole
I was walking along, minding my business
When out of an orange-colored sky
Flash! bam! alakazam!
Wonderful you came by
I was humming a tune, drinking in sunshine
When out of that orange-colored view
Wham! bam! alakazam!
I got a look at you
One look and I yelled timber
Watch out for flying glass
cause the ceiling fell and the bottom fell out
I went into a spin and I started to shout,
Ive been hit, this is it, this is it!
I was walking along minding my business
When love came and hit me in the eye
Flash! bam! alakazam!
Out of an orange-colored sky.
song performed by by Nat King Cole
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Race Colored Race
2: 30 AM
9/7/2005
The Race Colored Race
White is said to be the absence of Black
And; black the presence of none to lack
Where Red may be that of Native skinned
Colored all be, blood crimsoned b'neath
Matters all seen, by reflections to light
Preferably, that of fickle mind sight
No decent reason to define the human line
when words appear, chosen fine as
Birthrights format, will nature dictate
Life evolves for their survival
Earths colored hues, are often altered
Best we be blind of color preference,
gifting be shades of parental palette
offspring families with human frailty
Sense the magnificence of
Loves Omnipresence, where
there be life who starve
'Without that needed Within'
Need we realize
all life be willed to
have its own due repose
Inevitably without prejudice
'So are we all, Composed'
Louie Levy
4: 19 AM
9/7/2005
poem by Louie Levy
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Sugar Mountain
Oh, to live on sugar mountain
With the barkers and the colored balloons,
You cant be twenty on sugar mountain
Though youre thinking that youre leaving there too soon,
Youre leaving there too soon.
Its so noisy at the fair
But all your friends are there
And the candy floss you had
And your mother and your dad.
Oh, to live on sugar mountain
With the barkers and the colored balloons,
You cant be twenty on sugar mountain
Though youre thinking that youre leaving there too soon,
Youre leaving there too soon.
Theres a girl just down the aisle,
Oh, to turn and see her smile.
You can hear the words she wrote
As you read the hidden note.
Oh, to live on sugar mountain
With the barkers and the colored balloons,
You cant be twenty on sugar mountain
Though youre thinking that youre leaving there too soon,
Youre leaving there too soon.
Now youre underneath the stairs
And youre givin back some glares
To the people who you met
And its your first cigarette.
Oh, to live on sugar mountain
With the barkers and the colored balloons,
You cant be twenty on sugar mountain
Though youre thinking that youre leaving there too soon,
Youre leaving there too soon.
Now you say youre leavin home
cause you want to be alone.
Aint it funny how you feel
When youre findin out its real?
Oh, to live on sugar mountain
With the barkers and the colored balloons,
You cant be twenty on sugar mountain
Though youre thinking that youre leaving there too soon,
Youre leaving there too soon.
Oh, to live on sugar mountain
With the barkers and the colored balloons,
You cant be twenty on sugar mountain
Though youre thinking that youre leaving there too soon,
Youre leaving there too soon.
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Christmas Time Again
While driving to get our Christmas tree
We sang some Christmas carols
Like Jingle Bells and Frosty
And some other sweet noels.
We picked our favorite Christmas tree
And tied it to the roof
Then drove home very slowly
As we played more Christmas music.
When putting up the Christmas tree
It starts to smell like pine
It finally feels like Christmas
Now it's decoration time.
We draped the tree with colored lights
And multi-colored balls
Then put an Angel here and there
And let the tinsel fall.
Dad placed the star atop the tree
And then he plugged it in,
Then the colored lights began to dance
It's Christmas time again.
poem by Christy York
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Happy Colored Marbles
Most people are not ok, but they're taking their siestas in the sun
Got some ideas on the way it should be
But most of 'em just carrying on
Happy colored marbles that are rolling in my head
I put 'em back in the jacket of the one I love
Carry that velvet sack full of pretty colored marbles
And I'll ask you for 'em back, when I'm ready and done
Most people are not ok, and they're slackin' cause the job ain't done
Fillin' up on the poison nut
And getting down till the dawn
Happy colored marbles that are rolling in my head
I put 'em back in the jacket of the one I love
Carry that velvet sack full of pretty colored marbles
And I'll ask you for 'em back, when I'm ready and done
song performed by by Ween
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Respect Is What You Earn Not Command
Respect is what you earn not command
That is something some find hard to understand
You earn respect if respect you do show
From people in your life you've come to know
Of Respect or lack of we do read of and hear
Though 'tis a thing that cannot be born of fear
Of somebody who has power over you
In your feigned respect your feelings are not true.
Many may respect and admire the high achievers of the town
And applaud them on their journey to renown
But with the many some do disagree
Through different eyes we see things differently.
Respect is something you can only show
For one that you feel privileged for to know
And of any shackles true respect is free
That's how it is and that's how 'twill always be.
poem by Francis Duggan
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I regard the Klan, the Anglo-Saxon clubs and White American societies, as far as the Negro is concerned, as better friends of the race than all other groups of hypocritical whites put together.
quote by Marcus Garvey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Red Colored Stars
I'll open my eyes, and a new day will come
I'll see Red Colored Stars in the sky and in your eyes
Fast away the ugly, just one more bill to pay
All the past will be moon dust that flies, from where we lay
I can feel it, I can feel
Red Colored Stars in my hands are the stones that were cast
They left us with scars, reminders
There's a wall in my way, there's a war in my way
Tales of love that consumed me
Hide from the fight
I'm a slave in my head, I'm awake in my bed
Tell the worms they can soon eat tonight, eat tonight
I can feel
Red Colored Stars in my hands are the stones that were cast
They left us with scars, reminders
Can you feel it?
Can you feel it?
Sleep, there's a wall in my way
There's a war in my way
Sleep, there's a wall in my way
There's a war in my head
Start our cars and be around, there's room enough for you and me
When the sun comes up, we'll leave them down and stare into the dream
Red Colored Stars in my hands are the stones that were cast
They left us with scars, reminders
I can feel it
I can feel it
I can feel it
I can feel it
song performed by by Ours
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You may call me a Klansman if you will, but, potentially, every white man is a Klansman, as far as the Negro in competition with whites socially, economically and politically is concerned, and there is no use lying.
quote by Marcus Garvey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Highway 13
Traveling eastward on highway 13, alongside
uninhabited-it seems- railroad track
Quickly passing quaint white churches,
steeples humbly making signs of the cross.
Looking down at her black skin, and wondering
Why not one white church is followed
by a single colored one…Hmm?
god's design or man's...
white churches, colored churches...Hmm?
The poetic architect quickly dismantles such thoughts
and centers her mind on nature's creation:
The confiers bearing brown cones,
neddles dropping off
brown grass dead asleep.
the evening progressed
as we pressed on passing
life's winter.
Passing by red, green, and white illuminated homes;
luminous reindeers and round-belly Santas,
Seeming to announce a Ho, Ho, Ho, and a Merry Christmas!
Unawakening the sleeping children in the back.
We continued eastward…
Merry Christmas everyone!
December 27,2007
poem by Almedia Knight Oliver
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The Great Sin Of Prejudice Against Color
Children,
who made your skin white?
Was it not God?
Who made mine black?
Was it not the same God?
Am I to blame, therefore,
because my skin is black?
Does it not cast a reproach
on our Maker
to despise a part of His children,
because He has been pleased
to give them a black skin?
Indeed, children, it does;
and your teachers ought to tell you so,
and root up, if possible,
the great sin of prejudice
against color from your minds.
While Sabbath School Teachers
know of this great sin,
and not only do not teach
their pupils that it is a sin,
but too often indulge in it themselves,
can they expect God
to bless them or the children?
Does not God love colored children
as well as white children?
And did not the same Savior
die to save the one as well as the other?
If so,
white children must know
that if they go to Heaven,
they must go there
without their prejudice against color,
for in Heaven
black and white
are one in the love of Jesus.
Now children,
remember what Sojourner Truth has told you,
and thus get rid of your prejudice,
and learn to love colored children
that you may be
all the children of your Father
who is in Heaven.
poem by Sojourner Truth
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