Nappy and Happy And Not Harried
I have never been 'black'.
Not midnight black.
Or even shown that,
At the crack of dawn.
I know that for a fact.
I would get up early to look.
And when I became African-American...
What happened to the West Indian part of me?
All I know is this,
Someone made an announcement...
And that part of my heritage,
Became a subdivision.
Like an urbanite separated...
From the others who surrounded,
In neighborhoods of suburban glee.
And when I wished to take all of that back,
To proclaim, in fact, I am indeed black...
It seems those who were lighter than I,
Wanted me to prove my loyalty too.
As if they had to approve...
My manner of speech,
And other things I chose to do.
I think they were trying to confuse me.
As confused as some of them appeared to be.
Sometimes when I did then reminisce,
The days of my youth I admit I missed...
I remember just being a 'Negro'.
And not have a concern...
On whose list I did not fit.
I was just 'Larry'...
Nappy and happy and not harried!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
What Other Place Is More Mixed Up
Black is the color of my skin.
Well...
Not really 'black' black.
But kinda mocha.
You see,
My mother had been referred to as 'high yella'
And my father dark complected.
My sisters and I have this brownish tone.
My hair?
Nappy.
Well...
Not 'nappy' in the conventional sense.
You see,
I have dreads.
They look like braids.
But they are not.
My race?
Gee,
Let's see.
I remember when I was a 'kid'
I was then a Negro.
Then there was that dreaded 'N' word.
Then I became Black.
And 'proud' of course.
To be mistaken as an American Indian,
West Indian, Puerto Rican, Mexican...
And even Italian!
YES.
Because of my last name.
Well...what 'is' you?
Then I had an uncle,
Who thought he had to correct all of our dictions.
'Speak clearly! Enunciate.'
I would hate to visit my cousins.
'Is your father at home?
I hope not! '
Then there was a period when I was told,
'You think you white?
Trying to talk proper! '
Today?
I think more about getting my bills paid.
Or the ones I do pay.
I can not concern myself with race.
There are white folks wearing their hair in dreads.
Hair 'nappier' than mine!
Close your eyes and listen to today's music.
Is that Eminem? Justin Timberlake? Robin Thicke?
They sound better than some blacks that do it!
Madonna ain't no Beyoncé.
But neither is Patti a Gladys Knight or Chaka
Or Sarah Vaughn.
And that list can go on and on.
And Frank? Sinatra! Elvis, the Pelvis!
You know what?
With all this talk about color and race...
What other place is more mixed up than America?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Little Black Boy
A Little Black boy was born one late winter day.
He’d be lucky if he survive through the night the doctor did say.
But he did more than survived.
The little black boy lived.
And yeah problem arose because he did not have enough air to breathe.
He ended up with Cerebral Palsy.
But that did not stop that little black boy.
In fact it gave him the will to fight even more.
He had trouble with speech he could barely be heard.
But he overcame that and became a master of spoken word.
My life is not over but this part of it I felt need to be told.
Because I’m proud to admit I was and am that little black boy.
When I Was a Negro
I remember the days when I was a Negro...
Free to go about where Negros go.
There seemed to have been,
A dignity and pride we all showed outside...
And kept within then.
Until the call came to be black,
With a proudness some said others lacked!
And the attack on Negroes by blacks,
Began to hold those of color back.
Renaming and claiming African-Americans,
We were now in one group packed!
Stacked together,
But not unified...
As we were before,
When we all were ignored.
Although a respect we had
Was gladly shown...and adored!
And now our thoughts are on each other to trap.
Just like those who fed and started this crap.
Affecting everyone with mentalities...
That are thoughtless and senselessly,
Way off track.
Today...
No one appears,
To be who they 'is'
And that 'bees' clearly a fact!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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My Blackness
Yes I am black and dats a fact.
To some its just a colour,
I look at it as the history of my ancestor.
As my friend said 'black is about spirit and soul'
Hell yeah its d most precious thing in d world.
So my definition of black...........
I am loving my blackness,
I know I am a 'Nubian Empress'.
So divine, wonderful and kind,
Dis is how I am goin to be for a lifetime.
Apart of dis black dynasty......
LOVING MA SKIN AND EVERY PART OF ME! ! ! ! ! ! !
poem by Anita Khelawan
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To Be Young Gifted And Black
(1969) nina simone, weldon irvine jr
To be young, gifted and black,
Oh what a lovely precious dream
To be young, gifted and black,
Open your heart to what I mean
In the whole world you know
There are billion boys and girls
Who are young, gifted and black,
And thats a fact!
Young, gifted and black
We must begin to tell our young
Theres a world waiting for you
This is a quest thats just begun
When you feel really low
Yeah, theres a great truth you should know
When youre young, gifted and black
Your souls intact
Young, gifted and black
How I long to know the truth
There are times when I look back
And I am haunted by my youth
Oh but my joy of today
Is that we can all be proud to say
To be young, gifted and black
Is where its at
song performed by by Nina Simone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To Be Young, Gifted & Black
(1969) nina simone, weldon irvine jr
To be young, gifted and black,
Oh what a lovely precious dream
To be young, gifted and black,
Open your heart to what I mean
In the whole world you know
There are billion boys and girls
Who are young, gifted and black,
And thats a fact!
Young, gifted and black
We must begin to tell our young
Theres a world waiting for you
This is a quest thats just begun
When you feel really low
Yeah, theres a great truth you should know
When youre young, gifted and black
Your souls intact
Young, gifted and black
How I long to know the truth
There are times when I look back
And I am haunted by my youth
Oh but my joy of today
Is that we can all be proud to say
To be young, gifted and black
Is where its at
song performed by by Nina Simone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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5. The Beast
I remember my dad’s big Black Panther
As he kicked it went off with a roar
I remember him saying it’s a strong un
It’s pulling hard asking for more
I remember the sound from a distance
You could tell he was there by the throb
I remember its speed in an instant
From a dot to a great big black blob
I remember him trying to tame it
And the first day he sat on its back
I remember mum looking uneasy
When he said he would just need the knack
I remember the beast being thirsty
Many gallons we all saw it drink
I remember the back of this monster
It gave off a gassy black stink
I remember the awesome black power
Put dad off the road in a dyke
I remember he smiled as he polished
Black Panther one hell of a bike
poem by David Threadgold (2008)
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The Obviousness Of The Evidence Shown
Throughout my life...
And others who could attest to my sentiments.
I have had others who believed they knew me.
To say that I wasn't 'that' enough for 'their' liking.
Can you imagine?
As if I was born to prove to them...
My life and efforts were on a rating scale.
To please their whims and noninvolvements.
Or that I wasn't a 'real' this to claim that,
But to be just what they said I 'was' or wasn't.
To demean any attempts I made in anything...
I 'wanted' to do to get done.
And the color of my skin,
Had a lot to do with that too.
Oh...
I got it from both sides of the fence.
With some painful comments,
Forever to be remembered.
Or I thought I was better than others.
I like that one!
Because I spoke to have others understand,
What it was I was saying.
I spoke too clearly.
LOL...
Seriously.
I have actually had people tell me that.
I wish I was joking but I am not.
I was told I spoke as if I was a caucasian.
As if I wanted to be!
A black boy living in a black neighborhood.
With black friends and surrounded by blackness.
Or...
Check this out!
If I really wanted to do what I wanted to do,
I'd move and go somewhere else.
Because 'they' weren't going to allow me,
To do what I wanted to do in the place I was born.
Uh...
Excuse?
Are you looking for an exit sign?
Because I am not.
Well...
Thank God I didn't allow their comments,
To ruin my ambitions.
Like others they have done with a doing,
Who bought into that kind of evilness...
To achieve exactly what the obviousness,
Of the evidence shown as proof of 'their' doings.
Not mine!
My wishes and dreams are not to be limited!
Period.
With an exclamation!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Did Anyone Approach You
You never look up
You never look back
You never say anything based on fact
Youve got issues going way back
You never say hi
You never say much
You never make an effort to stay in touch
Ive got this feeling something happened here
Something happened here
Did anybody feel you?
Did anybody deal you?
Did anybody make you do some things now?
Did anyone approach you?
Did anybody coach you?
Did anybody tell you what to say now?
Hopeless - its not hopeless
Doubtful - but not hopeless at all
You never looked up
You never look back
You never did anything in between
Are things black and white with you
You never believed
You never belonged
Never made milestones to call your own
Ive got this feeling something happened here
Something happened here
Did anybody hide you?
Did anybody fight you?
Did anyone decide to do some harm now?
Did anybody read you?
Did anybody bleed you?
Did anybody feed you lots of junk now?
Hopeless - its not hopeless
Doubtful - but not hopeless
Hopeless - its not hopeless
Doubtful - but not hopeless at all
Hopeless - its not hopeless
Doubtful - but not hopeless at all
Something happened here
Something happened here
song performed by by A-Ha
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hefemally
The nabbing,
In his early 30s;
The fallout,
In her early 30s;
From a humble beginning to its present status,
But the ages of the African Leaders are common to us all!
And like the ace of the black hearts.
Hefemally is my name and,
My present age is part of my journey in Africa! !
For the muse of love is like the aroma of sweet wine;
And like the colours of the rainbow,
But, my identity is the ace of the black love.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Patience
Red! Red! Red!
Is there no black?
Red like the bloody earth, this pack!
Knaves! Kings! Queens!- all red!
Where are the black?
Shuffle again!
Will not the other cards come back?
The only cards to clear the brain!
Dear God, ‘twill crack!
Shuffle again!
Red! Red! Red!
Black! Black! Black!
Is there no red?
Has all the blood on earth been shed?
Each Queen! Each King! and every Jack!
Where are the red?
Shuffle again!
Has blood within the world all bled?
The millions mourning for the slain?
The million dead?
Shuffle again!
Black! Black! Black!
poem by Leon Gellert
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Cuz I'm Black? ? ?
Is it cuz I'm black that you think I'm poor
Is it cuz I'm black that we can't afford
A car, a house, and have a liittle more
Or does stereotypes take over and racism pour
into suburb neighborhoods that are scared of 'us'
Black people that is, where crime is a must
Nigger! Nigger! The #1 word
for white upper class to use as a term
To make us feel low and non educated
To make us feel weak, it so complicated
Nigger this, nigger that, the word is overrated
It was used in Africa, which equal segregation.
Separated us from the whites and so much to tell
That 75% of us is locked in jails
for doing pity stuff that will take our trails
of life we can have to just do right
Go to school Graduate, and get paid right.
Its not cuz I'm black, It's called nigger mentality
That causes us black people to fail so drastically.
Don't get me wrong black is beautiful
We need to work together. Come on....honestly.
poem by Sharon Goodwin
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What can I say of myself
What can I say of myself
That others has said of me
Even though they were always wrong
No, I do not grow a tail at night
No, monkeys have straight hair not I
They say that I abandon
My children for a jail cell in the company of men
They do not know that I do not hate my dark skin
It is the money of whites, their power
That denies me; keep me in the yoke of self hatred
They fear my power to survive
It is greater then their to enslave
Financially and sexually as is the American way
By my black American culture am I made brave
They think that I want their daughters and sons
To bring then over to the beautiful dark side
As they are entice by the art of being black
They want me to mount them to bring
Them closer to the animal that we all are
To praise me they say that I am to articulate to be black
And they want to know if this is my real hair
And they call my skull cap a doo rag
They tell me that they too love fried chicken
And watermelon and can get down with some corn bread and collard green
With smoked ham hocks or neck bones
They want to know why I am so angry
As a black man who should be prove to be born an American
And why I am acting white when I dress preppy
Why don’t I sound black over the phone
They want to know why I eat pig feet
They say that I should get over slavery
But not that the Jews should get over the Holocaust
They want to touch my hair
Their women folks are quick to commit crimes
And blame it on a black man
They think that the lighter my skin color
The less dangerous and friendlier I am.
They tell me that I got rhythm
poem by David E. Patton
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Max
Who is that big black dog I see?
Who is that big black dog indeed.
With a deep black shiny coat and sharp teeth that could bite to a gore
Who is that big black dog?
Come big black dog
Come to me
Those brown eyes that see
They see things at night that would frighten me.
But, oh, my big black dog
How I thank GOD that you have nails and a ferocious look to protect me
Come and walk with me for you see things I cannot see
I will never be afraid with you near me.
So, please, never go away my big black dog…
Just you and me, my MAX and me.
poem by Bonnie Lisa Sanchez
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Native Born
I love it when I am approached by someone,
Who is totally oblivious to my attachment...
To my ethnicity that is affliated with my appearance.
I want to be identified as a Blackman of pride.
And dignity.
There are many who are of African ancestry,
Who are still in debate about that.
I've never been puzzled about the issue.
So whenever I am approached and questioned,
How does it feel to be a Black man living...
With feelings that are isolated?
I have to ensure I respond to that...
With a confirmation someone with a consciousness,
Has indeed asked me that question.
Since it should be obvious,
I have a head full of hair dreadlocked for a reason.
And one of them is not to keep what I feel hidden.
I have already been a 'Negro'.
I am an American.
Native born.
Like my daddy and my momma...
And their daddies and mommas before them.
And...
I am extremely proud of my Indian heritage as well.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I was bred as an outcast, part Negro and part Seminole, in my early years raised as an Indian.
quote by Willie Stargell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Men In Black
Hohh
Here come the men in black
Its the mibs uh here come the mibs
Here come the men in black men in black
They wont let you remember
Nah nah nah
The good guys dress in black remember that
Just in case we ever face to face and make contact
The title held by me mib
Means what you think you saw you did not see
So dont blink be what was there is now gone
The black suits with the black ray bans on
Walk in shadow move in silence
Guard against extra terrestrial violence
But yo we aint on no government list
We straight dont exist no names and no fingerprints
Saw somethin strange watch your back
Cause you never quite now where the mibs is at
Uh eh
Here come the men in black men in black
Galaxy defenders oho oho oho
Here come the men in black men in black
They wont let you remember
Aha aha
Now from the deepest of the darkest night
On the horizon bright light enters sight tight
Camaras zoom on the impending doom
But then like boom black suits fill the room up
With the quickness talk with the witnesses
Hypnotizer neuralizer
Vivid memories turn to fantasies
Aint no mibs can I please
Do what we say thats the way we kick it
Dya know what I mean
I see my noisy cricket get wicked on ya
Were your first last and only line of defense
Against the worst scum of the universe
So dont fear us cheer us
If you ever get near us dont jeer us were fearless
Mibs freezin up all the flack
Whats that stand for men in black
Uh eh
The men in black
The men in black
Let me see ya just bounce it with me
Just bounce with me
Just bounce it with me
Come on let me see ya just slide with me
Just slide with me
Just slide with me
Come on let me see ya take a walk with me
Just walk with me
Take a walk with me
Come on and make your neck work
Now freeze
Ohhhhhoh
Here come the men in black men in black
Galaxy defenders ohh ooohh
Here come the men in black men in black
They wont let you remember oh nohh
Alright check it
Let me tell you this in closing
I know we might seem imposing
But trust me if we ever show in your section
Believe me its for your own protection
Cause we see things that you need not see
And we be places that you need not be
So go on with your life
Forget that roswell crap
Show love to the black suit cause
Thats the men in
Thats the men in
Here come the men in black here they come
Galaxy defenders galaxy defenders
Here come the men in black oho here they come
They wont let you remember wont let you remember
Here come the men in black ohh here they come
Galaxy defenders oho oho oho
Here come the men in black
They wont let you remember
song performed by by Will Smith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Black History
Boom, boom, boom!
That was in 1530 to the Slave Trade;
My Mama told me so,
My Papa told me so,
In the name of our ancestors gone by;
Slaves for arms,
Slaves for powder,
Slaves for hardware,
Slaves for spirits;
Boom, boom, boom! !
All over the West Coast of Africa!
Today, i am a Blackman to tell you a story.
Black History, the Black African, the Black Race;
Of my ancestors gone by,
Boom, boom, boom!
Black head, black sugar, black coffee;
Where are the true identities of the Blacks?
That was in 1530 to the Slave trade.
Black History, black love;
A Black Race to a call.
Tap your fingers and do think about it,
My Mama told me so;
Bllack shoes, black phones;
With the Black History gone too soon,
My Papa told me so.
Black hair, black eyes;
The black coal to steam up the engines!
In the name of my ancestors gone by;
But, where are the black pens of love to share?
Do think about this and learn from it,
Boom, boom, boom!
A Blackman in the house to tell us a story;
Where is William Wilberforce?
Where is Thomas Buxton?
Where is Granville Sharp?
What about the Slaves? !
These men need to tell us more;
They killed my ancestors softly without compensations!
Black love, black stream, a black home to live in;
Like 'Naughty By Nature',
I've got 'Queen Latifah' to tell us more.
Of the Black Songs,
Of the Black race,
With a Black-Limo to keep us going;
This Slave Trade was a Black History to us all.
Boom, boom, boom!
Do contact Africa to learn more from this;
Like a black bird, a black cat and the black fingers! !
Do contact Africa to see things for yourselves.
Oh Blackman,
When are they going to admit to what they did?
Like a Black Ninja in the house,
Do know your history before you destroy yourselves.
Boom, boom, boom!
The very sound of the Slaves marching on;
This is our colour and, we have to respect it.
Black Cop, Black Soldier;
A Black Marine to a call,
We still have more to learn from each other.
Black wine, Black Doctor, Black People;
Know all about your history.
About where you came from and,
Where you are today;
Black seed, black marble, Black Prophets!
We still have more to learn.
Slaves for arms,
Slaves for hardware,
Slavces for powder,
Slaves for spirits;
Boom, boom, boom! ! !
Black beauty, black sea, black pot;
Black Nurse, black melody, black stamp;
Know your history always.
Of the freed Slaves from England to Sierra Leone,
With those from America to Liberia! ! ! !
Today the Black Panther is here to stay like,
The Black Writer.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Little Black Book
There was a time you and I were everything
Youll never know the days and nights
I spend imagining
Yesterday is the only place
Well ever know oh oh
In my little black book
Theres someone I used to know
Day by day time slips away
Where did our love go
In my little black book
Youre always there to remind me
It wasnt just a dream
And baby in my heart you will always be
Picked up the phone
Didnt know
What I was gonna do
I heard your voice
I had no choice
I hang up on you
Yesterday is the only place
Well ever know oh oh
In my little black book
Theres someone I used to know
Day by day time slips away
Where did our love go
In my little black book
Youre always there to remind me
How it used to be
But baby in my heart
Youre still a part of me
Theres no future living in the past
You can dream but you can never go back
Oh no you will always be there
In my little black ... in my little black book
Theres someone I used to know
Day by day time slips away
Where did our love go
In my little black book
Youre always there to remind me
It wasnt just a dream
Were worlds apart
Youre in my heart
And there youll always be
In my little black book
Theres someone I used to know
Day by day time slips away
Where did our love go
In my little black book
Youll always be
A part of me
You always be
In my little black book
song performed by by Belinda Carlisle
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Oswick Owen Myndell
So different was Oswick.
All of his life,
He struggled to be accepted.
He never looked the part he wished to play.
Those insensitive would laugh,
At the things he would say.
And called him everything!
From worthless without a purpose...
And masquerading as straight.
Although he was gay!
And he was 'everything' he chose to be!
Straight, gay or lesbian!
Some thought of Oswick as a novelty!
But he wasn't.
His feelings were deep.
Deeper than many.
Deep and sensitive...
Oswick grew to learn some had little if any,
Feelings at all.
No stranger to the streets.
Or to the elite who came to love him most.
And when Oswick was asked what he wanted to do...?
Oswick chose the heights of power.
The 'deities' listened!
They knew Oswick did not joke.
And they had hopes Oswick would choose that too!
This was no ordinary out of the woods tiger.
And his presence, would indeed, be felt!
So different was Oswick.
All of his life,
He struggled to be accepted.
He never looked the part he wished to play.
However...
The few who came to know him,
Began to see Oswick in their sleep!
Realizing...
When Oswick decided to play,
Oswick played for keeps!
Daring 'anyone' anywhere...
To play him cheap!
Oswick Owen Myndell.
Black.
And with a name like that?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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