Old Town Types No. 25 - Black Peter Myloh
A man was Peter Myloh, strong-browed and black of face,
Australian Aboriginal, son of a dark doomed race.
And even I, an urchin then, read grief in his soft eye
Deep grief, that came with knowledge for a people who must die,
For he was 'educated.' But he came of no meek race
Whining, 'Gibbit tickpen', mister,' with a shamed averted face.
And he was proud, quick with a blow for some fool's sneering slight,
And how I grinned and hugged myself. For, lordy! Could he fight!
Old Connors took him as a boy from some wild Murray tribe
And thought to educate him as a scholar and a scribe,
First at school, and then at college. 'Twas a venture ill begun,
For Connors soon grew tired of it; and left him on the run,
A sort of favoured hanger-on, whom every breed forsook,
To be the butt of shearers there, less than the Chinese cook.
And after he'd half-killed a man, and seemed hell-bound for doom,
'Twas my father gave him sanctu'ry as handyman and groom.
Black Myloh loved my father; but the service of a slave
Was nought beside the hero-worship I, a stripling, gave
This lithe, dark-skinned Ulysses with the low, soft school-bred voice
And proudly then I would have changed my colour, had I choice.
For we were mates as men were mates on some forgotten day
Ere 'progress' came with all its care, and life was mostly play.
He taught me then the wise bush-lore learned centuries ago
By a simple, carefree people versed in arts no 'white' may know.
I learned how souls 'go walkabout', of dreams that are no dreams;
We ranged the plains, the scrub-clad hills, we fished the gum-lined streams,
And much I gained that served me well when from that home I ran,
And chose to act the prodigal, and learned to be a man…
And then, the white-scourge took him. Well do I mind my grief -
Fierce, childish grief, the questionings, the shaking of belief…
But that was very long ago; yet, even now, much truth
I winnow from Black Myloh's lore, the real friend of my youth.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Related quotes
Half my father
Half my father
Half my mother
My mother white as a ghost
My father black as coal
In my face the mixture glows
My skin is white
Still I am a black man
By the make of my nose
My hair is curly
My eyes are gray
Within me both if them lives
My mother’s race
Did enslave
My father’s race
Was never paid.
Still within I bare the two
Am O the new American?
My father is white
My mother is Korean
They met during the war
And I was born
Their only son
By my tone of skin
And by my eyes
You can tell
That there is a divide
And by my blonde hair
It is there for you to spy
Am I the new American?
My mother is German
My father polish
I learned three languages
As I grew older
Both of them
Did love me well
And of each country did tell
That I could draw
From each well
Am I the new American?
My father is Chinese
My mother Spanish
Both crossed over the Rio Grand
I am in the make of my father
But I have my mother’s brown skin
Am I the new American?
poem by David E. Patton
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My Father He Was A Fisherman
MY father he was a fisherman,
That wrought at the break o' day,
And hither and thither the long tides ran
I' the long blue bay.
'The tides go up and the tides go down,
But what do you know of the sea ?'
Her voice, i' the long gray streets o' the town,
Is singing to me.
'What do you know of the sails at dawn,
What of the shell-white foam ?'
Cheerly and sweet, from a world withdrawn,
They are calling me home.
'What is the grief you fain would tell
When your eyes are turned on me ?'
O, well it was taught and I learned it well,–
The grief o' the sea.
'Where do you travel and where do you sleep,
Where shall you take your rest ?'
At the inn that shelters my father, deep
I' the seas o' the west.
poem by Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
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The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part II: To Juliet: XLII
THE SAME CONTINUED
We vex each other with our presence, I
By my regrets and by my mocking face,
You by your laughter and mad gaiety,
And both by cruel thoughts of happier days.
Is then the world so narrow that we pace
These streets like prisoners still with eyes askance,
As bound together in the fell embrace
Of a dark chain which bars deliverance?
Nay, go your ways. I will not vex you more.
Make your own terms with life, while you are fair.
There is none better learned in woman's lore.
You yet may take revenge on grief and care,
And 'twas your nature ever to be gay,
Why should I scoff? Be merry while you may.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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A grief ago
'There is no grief
which time does not lessen
or soften' -
so said Cicero, a man so often right;
a Stoic, those for whom
all life presents a lesson
to be learned from,
and then, to move on from..
But I wonder about all this:
is grief ever lessened or softened?
Is it not, perhaps, overlaid
in our so various ways?
For some, grief framed and falsified
to ease that grief;
For some, like hyacinths and crocus bulbs,
left in a dark cupboard in the autumn of our grief
to respond to time, and
become at last
themselves?
gently, gently, the covers pulled
over the loving bed,
the true, the pure, the lovely painful grief,
the memory deep cherished,
gently, gently, folded
into the cupboards of the heart
there to be known, without the door disturbed
until the time - 'a grief ago' as Dylan wrote -
the cupboard opened only for love's sake
without grief...:
those carefully folded memories
brought out and loved
and lived a while...
not grief, not grief...but
the pure memory of grief
and behold,
life.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Black or White - Political Correctness
Black, black is beautiful
All colours are meaningful
But Obama is not black, he is mixed race
Think about it; absorb this at your own pace
I'm weighing the two
Like I always do
In all fairness, in this world of madness
This is what I call 'Political Correctness'
Obama is not black but mixed race
Take a look at the color of his face
He is light skinned, not even dark
But they chose to call him black
I'm weighing the two
Like I always do
With a white mother and a father that is black
The ignorant masses prefer to refer to you as black!
Copyright 2008 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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Jim Of Maribyrnong
They were forthright days when Jim was born,
When they called a spade a spade.
And statesmen held in lofty scorn
he trickster's sticky trade.
For their eyes were clear and their views were strong,
And they'd be no party's too!
And big, bluff Jim of Maribyrnong
Learned wisdom in this school.
For black was black, and white was white,
When good Victoria reigned,
And argument made no wrong right,
No demagogue explained
That good might ever come of wrong,
Or black be painted white,
When big, bluff Jim of Maribyrnong
Went out to fight the fight.
'Twas thus Jim learned his politics;
And he's little changed today;
For he failed to learn those subtle tricks
That modern 'statesmen' play.
To aid the folk who'd suffered long
Thro' tyranny's base laws,
Marched big, bluff Jim of Maribyrnong,
Staunch for the Labor cause.
But times have changed a deal of late,
And the 'art' of politics;
And they say that Jim is out of date,
And will not learn new tricks.
But still unswayed by wrangling throng,
Forthright and conscience free,
Goes simple Jim of Maribyrnong
With his crude, blunt honesty.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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In my grief
In my grief
I have forgotten I have a friend
I have not remember there is YOU
Who are willing to wipe away my tears.
In my grief
I have hurt you my friend
I run hiding in my own cocoon
And left you alone wandering where I am
In my grief
I ignore you calling my name
I have close my eyes for your need of a friend
And left you alone in your lament
After my grief
I look for where you are
But couldn’t find you anymore
Coz you grew tired waiting for me
poem by Tear Drops
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Dark and white
Dark and white exist together
Both know well who is better
Yet one can feel always proud
It is look that spells sound
White does not mean simple peace
Dark does not seem gloom and unease
Both carry same meaning and exist
Lord has blessed both to prevail and greet
Same feeling, same aspirations and will power to fight
Choosing of course between wrong and right
What should be carried on is colorless race
Then you may find happiness on face
We have existed since centuries
Under gone pain and miseries
Our heart, eyes, hairs all black
Why not we prefer while blood and stake?
It is pure madness and senseless thinking
The thought in its inception is stinking
How can we be so choosey about natural color?
We are lovely kids from God and stay as flower
White color may appeal more on some basis
Yet black may protect you from some magic
It is our belief since very beginning
We all prefer dark clouds, black nights and stars shining
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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No Difference
The other day I wrote a poem
and a friend asked me how I
could feel the pain of her kind,
as she was a different race from me.
You are white and I am black,
so how could you feel the pain I felt?
The answer was simple
we were not of a different race.
There is only one race, the human race.
We maybe different in the colour of our skin,
but we share each other’s pain.
I share yours and you share mine
whenever we are struck by grief.
We may eat different food,
but we both breathe the same air.
We see through different coloured eyes,
but we both see the same things.
There is no difference between us
except within our colour
and I am a man and you are a woman,
but that is where the difference ends.
We both have a heart that beats
and lungs that breathe in air.
No difference there.
If we are cut, we bleed
and our blood is red.
No difference there.
Therefore, you see I can feel your hurt,
feel the tears when you cry.
Now my question is if we were blind
what colour would you see?
The answer is simple,
the same colour as me.
There is no difference between us;
we each belong to the same race.
We are the same,
but with a different face.
16 March 2009
poem by David Harris
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Black & White People
One more day down
Everybody has those days
Where one soft sweet song's
Just enough to clear my head
Fall on real life
Is anybody left there sane?
If we slide on over and accept fate
Then it's bound to be a powerful thing
If it's just that you're weak
Can we talk about it
It's gettin' so damn creepy
Just nursing this ghost of chance
The fiction, the romance
And the technicolor dreams
Of black and white people
One boy head strong
Thinks that living here's just plain
He's pushed down so hard
You can hear him start to sink
And it's one last round of petty conversation
You hold on boy 'cuz
You won't go down like this?
Just roll over
Lay down till it's more than you can take
If it's just that you're weak
Can we talk about it
It's gettin' so damn creepy
Just nursing this ghost of chance
The fiction, the romance
And the technicolor dreams
Of black and white people
So one more day down
And everybody's changin'
One soft sweet sound
Is just enough to clear my head
If it's just that you're weak
Can we talk about it
It's gettin' so damn creepy
Just nursing this ghost of chance
The fiction, the romance
And the technicolor dreams
Of black and white people
Yeah if you're weak
Can we talk about it
It's gettin' so damn creepy
Just nursing this ghost of chance
The fiction, the romance
And the technicolor dreams
Of black and white people
We are black and white people
We are black and white people
We are black and white people
song performed by by Matchbox 20
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Black & White People
One more day down
Everybody has those days
Where one soft sweet song's
Just enough to clear my head
Fall on real life
Is anybody left there sane?
If we slide on over and accept fate
Then it's bound to be a powerful thing
If it's just that you're weak
Can we talk about it
It's gettin' so damn creepy
Just nursing this ghost of chance
The fiction, the romance
And the Technicolor dreams
Of black and white people
One boy head strong
Thinks that living here's just plain
He's pushed down so hard
You can hear him start to sink
And it's one last round of petty conversation
You hold on boy 'cuz
You won't go down like this?
Just roll over
Lay down till it's more than you can take
If it's just that you're weak
Can we talk about it
It's gettin' so damn creepy
Just nursing this ghost of chance
The fiction, the romance
And the Technicolor dreams
Of black and white people
So one more day down
And everybody's changin'
One soft sweet sound
Is just enough to clear my head
If it's just that you're weak
Can we talk about it
It's gettin' so damn creepy
Just nursing this ghost of chance
The fiction, the romance
And the Technicolor dreams
Of black and white people
Yeah if you're weak
Can we talk about it
It's gettin' so damn creepy
Just nursing this ghost of chance
The fiction, the romance
And the Technicolor dreams
Of black and white people
We are black and white people
We are black and white people
We are black and white people
song performed by by Matchbox Twenty
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Finally...thank you
I finally did it,
I gained the courage,
The courage to move on,
Fear is no longer apart of me,
Because,
Life is too short to dwell,
If it’s not about me,
Then I can’t have you in it,
You taught me things,
Showed me right and wrong,
But,
You gave me pain,
I didn’t know what to do,
I thought,
Sometimes I still think,
That having you in my life,
Is what I need,
Only because I loved you,
My life is all I have,
So what will I do,
Continue to be strong,
Be grateful,
For the things I learned,
Forget the pain you gave me,
And not make the same mistakes,
Life is about learning,
Experiences,
Even though this process was painful,
I learned the most beautiful lesson,
To love me,
Before,
Loving another,
As I write,
Tears want to stream down my face,
But they can’t,
Only because these tears aren’t for sadness,
It’s happiness,
Happiness because I grew strong,
Happiness because I moved on,
And I’m doing my dreams,
On my own…
So all I can say is,
Thank you.
poem by Latoya Fleming
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Not With These Eyes
Let me not see your grief!
O, let not any see
That grief,
Nor how your heart still rocks
Like a temple with long earthquake shocks.
Let me not see
Your grief.
These eyes have seen such wrong,
Yet remained cold:
Ills grown strong,
Corruption's many-headed worm
Destroying feet that moved so firm--
Shall these eyes see
Your grief?
And that black worm has crawled
Into the brain
Where thought had walked
Nobly, and love and honour moved as one,
And brave things bravely were begun....
Now, can thought see
Unabashed your grief?
Into that brain your grief
Has run like cleansing fire:
Your grief
Through these unfaithful eyes has leapt
And touched honour where it lightly slept.
Now when I see
In memory your grief
There is no thought that's not
Yours, yours,
No love that sleeps,
No spiritual door that opens not
In the green quiet village of thought
Shining with light,
And silent to your silence.
poem by John Freeman
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They Were Welcome To Their Belief
Grief may have thought it was grief.
Care may have thought it was care.
They were welcome to their belief,
The overimportant pair.
No, it took all the snows that clung
To the low roof over his bed,
Beginning when he was young,
To induce the one snow on his head.
But whenever the roof camme white
The head in the dark below
Was a shade less the color of night,
A shade more the color of snow.
Grief may have thought it was grief.
Care may have thought it was care.
But neither one was the thief
Of his raven color of hair.
poem by Robert Frost
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The Boss Over the Board
When he’s over a rough and unpopular shed,
With the sins of the bank and the men on his head;
When he musn’t look black or indulge in a grin,
And thirty or forty men hate him like Sin—
I am moved to admit—when the total is scored—
That it’s just a bit off for the Boss-of -the-board.
I have battled a lot,
But my dream’s never soared
To the lonely position of Boss-of-the-board.
’Twas a black-listed shed down the Darling: the Boss
Was a small man to see—though a big man to cross—
We had nought to complain of—except what we thought,
And the Boss didn’t boss any more than he ought;
But the Union was booming, and Brotherhood soared,
So we hated like poison the Boss-of-the-board.
We could tolerate ‘hands’—
We respected the cook;
But the name of a Boss was a blot in our book.
He’d a row with Big Duggan—a rough sort of Jim—
Or, rather, Jim Duggan was ‘laying for’ him!
His hate of Injustice and Greed was so deep
That his shearing grew rough—and he ill-used the sheep.
And I fancied that Duggan his manliness lower’d
When he took off his shirt to the Boss-of-the-board,
For the Boss was ten stone,
And the shearer full-grown,
And he might have, they said, let the crawler alone.
Though some of us there wished the fight to the strong,
Yet we knew in our hearts that the shearer was wrong.
And the crawler was plucky, it can’t be denied,
For he had to fight Freedom and Justice beside,
But he came up so gamely, as often as floored,
That a blackleg stood up for the Boss-of-the-board!
And the fight was a sight,
And we pondered that night—
‘It’s surprising how some of those blacklegs can fight!’
Next day at the office, when sadly the wreck
Of Jim Duggan came up like a lamb for his cheque,
Said the Boss, ‘Don’t be childish! It’s all past and gone;
‘I am short of good shearers. You’d better stay on.’
And we fancied Jim Duggan our dignity lower’d
When he stopped to oblige a damned Boss-of-the-board.
We said nothing to Jim,
For a joke might be grim,
And the subject, we saw, was distasteful to him.
The Boss just went on as he’d done from the first,
And he favoured Big Duggan no more than the worst;
And when we’d cut out and the steamer came down—
With the hawkers and spielers—to take us to town,
And we’d all got aboard, ’twas Jim Duggan, good Lord!
Who yelled for three cheers for the Boss-of-the-board.
’Twas a bit off, no doubt—
And with Freedom about—
But a lot is forgot when a shed is cut out.
With Freedom of Contract maintained in his shed,
And the curse of the Children of Light on his head,
He’s apt to long sadly for sweetheart or wife,
And his views be inclined to the dark side of life.
The Truth must be spread and the Cause must be shored—
But it’s just a bit rough on the Boss-of-the-board.
I am all for the Right,
But perhaps (out of sight)
As a son or a husband or father he’s white.
poem by Henry Lawson
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Ready To Meet Him
[talking]
Please give me the strength I need to live...
Bear with me
Amen
We each walk the path, that weve chosen
[chorus]
Im ready to meet him,
Were Im living aint right
Black hate white
White hate black
Its right back
To the same fight
They got us suspecting a war
But the real war is to follow the law of the lord
Lord, you left me stranded
And I dont know why
Told me to live my life,
Now Im ready to die
Ready to fly
I cry, but I shed no tears
You told me you would dead those fears, its been years
Snakes still coming at me
Just missing
Sometimes I think all you doing me is just listen
I thought that I was special
Thats what you told me
Hold me
Stop acting like you dont know me
Whatd I do so bad that it sent you away from me
Not only sent you away, but made you stay away from me
(my child Im here, as Ive always been, it was you who went away,
And now are back again, what did I say? )
Follow your word, and be true
(what did you do? )
Wellwhat I wanted to do...
(what have you seen? )
Darkness and hell at a glance
(what do you want? )
All I want is another chance
Chorus
(just because you went away, my doors are not locked, wanna come back home,
All you gotta do is knock)
Ya see, I left home a boy, I returned as a man
Full grown, and Im still not able to stand
(I gave you a hand)
Well...but I was looking the wrong way
Figured out the plan, then I started to pray
And that prayer, took me from here to over there
Back to over here,
Now they got me like where?
Do I belong?
Do I fit in?
Things on my mind, where do I begin?
Its easier to sin, but it hurts my heart
Im really tryin to win, so where do we start?
(thou shall not steal)
But, what if he stole from me?
(thou shall not kill)
But what if hes tryin to kill me?
(thou shall not, take my, name in vain, no matter how hard it rains,
Withstand the pain)
Chorus
Our father, who art in heaven
Im not ashamed to ask for guidance, at 27
No longer afraid to knock on your door
Not scared anymore to lose my life in the war
After what I just saw, Im ridin with the lord
Cause I really cant afford to lose my head by the sword
And now that Ive seen, what I need to see
Please take me, where I need to be
(what have you learned? )
Its better to tell the truth than to lie
(what have you learned? )
To love my life until I die
(what have you learned? )
Violence isnt always the key
(what have you learned? )
You cant always believe what you see
(what have you learned? )
Its better to forgive and forget
(what have you learned? )
Give as you expect to get
(what have you learned? )
That I cant go on without you
(what have you learned? )
I musta been a fool to ever doubt you
Chorus
Im ready to meet him
song performed by by DMX
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Black White People
One more day down
Everybody has those days
Where one soft sweet songs
Just enough to clear my head
Fall on real life
Is anybody left there sane?
If we slide on over and accept fate
Then its bound to be a powerful thing
If its just that youre weak
Can we talk about it
Its gettin so damn creepy
Just nursing this ghost of chance
The fiction, the romance
And the technicolor dreams
Of black and white people
One boy head strong
Thinks that living heres just plain
Hes pushed down so hard
You can hear him start to sink
And its one last round of petty conversation
You hold on boy cuz
You wont go down like this?
Just roll over
Lay down till its more than you can take
If its just that youre weak
Can we talk about it
Its gettin so damn creepy
Just nursing this ghost of chance
The fiction, the romance
And the technicolor dreams
Of black and white people
So one more day down
And everybodys changin
One soft sweet sound
Is just enough to clear my head
If its just that youre weak
Can we talk about it
Its gettin so damn creepy
Just nursing this ghost of chance
The fiction, the romance
And the technicolor dreams
Of black and white people
Yeah if youre weak
Can we talk about it
Its gettin so damn creepy
Just nursing this ghost of chance
The fiction, the romance
And the technicolor dreams
Of black and white people
We are black and white people
We are black and white people
We are black and white people
song performed by by Matchbox 20
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Black White People
One more day down
Everybody has those days
Where one soft sweet songs
Just enough to clear my head
Fall on real life
Is anybody left there sane?
If we slide on over and accept fate
Then its bound to be a powerful thing
If its just that youre weak
Can we talk about it
Its gettin so damn creepy
Just nursing this ghost of chance
The fiction, the romance
And the technicolor dreams
Of black and white people
One boy head strong
Thinks that living heres just plain
Hes pushed down so hard
You can hear him start to sink
And its one last round of petty conversation
You hold on boy cuz
You wont go down like this?
Just roll over
Lay down till its more than you can take
If its just that youre weak
Can we talk about it
Its gettin so damn creepy
Just nursing this ghost of chance
The fiction, the romance
And the technicolor dreams
Of black and white people
So one more day down
And everybodys changin
One soft sweet sound
Is just enough to clear my head
If its just that youre weak
Can we talk about it
Its gettin so damn creepy
Just nursing this ghost of chance
The fiction, the romance
And the technicolor dreams
Of black and white people
Yeah if youre weak
Can we talk about it
Its gettin so damn creepy
Just nursing this ghost of chance
The fiction, the romance
And the technicolor dreams
Of black and white people
We are black and white people
We are black and white people
We are black and white people
song performed by by Matchbox Twenty
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Great Chance
NOW strikes the hour upon the clock
The black sheep may rebuild the years
May lift the father's pride he broke
And wipe away his mother's tears.
To him, the mark for thrifty scorn;
God hath another chance to give,
Sets in his heart a flame new-born
By which his muddied soul may live.
This is the day of the prodigal,
The decent people's shame and grief,
When he shall make amends for all.
The way to Glory's bloody and brief.
Clean from his baptism, of blood,
New from the fire he springs again,
In shining raiment white and good,
Beyond the wise, home-keeping man.
Somewhere to-night-no tears be shed!-
With shaking hands they turn the sheet
To find his name among the dead,
Flower of the Army and the Fleet.
They tell, with proud and stricken face,
Of his white boyhood far away-
Who talked of trouble or disgrace?
'Our splendid son is dead!' they say.
poem by Katharine Tynan
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Village Of Hopes And Dreams
As we all come upon a death of a certain loved one
We all grief in the same way with our heads down.
As we all lose the championship,
We all grief in the same way with our heads down.
As we all fail a test, of which we tried so hard on,
We grief in the same way with our heads down.
As we all walk in the rain the same, so sad
The mood of the storm changes us
We all grief in the same way with our heads down.
As we all cry the same with blood-shot eyes, hoping no one sees us,
We all grief in the same way with our heads down.
As we all pray to God that this pain will stop,
We never think what we’ve down for him.
As I have lost something so great,
I lift my head to the sky
Pray to God that he will bless me with the opportunity
Of doing better next time.
As I learned from my elders the way you walk can tell a lot about yourself.
So I walk with my head up high, knowing God has sent his angels
To guide me in my path.
And if I did grief in the same way as others, with my head down.
I know that the Devil will be staring me down.
And as I walk home on this rainy day,
I pray that sunshine is on its way!
As I’ve cried in this stall,
I got on my knees and prayed to God to let these tears stop
With hopes and dreams I get from him,
Smiling each day because I know I am strong.
poem by Rachel Martin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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