The Door of Hope
The president has thus disclosed
In words his noblest plan:
'The door of hope shall not be closed
Upon the Negro man.
'His opportunities must be
With other men's the same;
As nation's chief I will not see
Him forced in ways of shame.'
Official work he'd scarce begun
When from his lips did fall,
'A special right I give to none,
But equal rights to all.
'Square dealing for the soldiers true,
Who made this country grand;
But more than this no man is due,
And none shall less demand.
'I'm president of all the land,'
The broiling South was told.
'For truth and fight I mean to stand,
Such policy I hold.'
When urged to crush the Negro race,
He answered with a zest,
'All men of worth shall have a place,
True manhood is the test.
''Tis better all the people up,
Than keep a portion down,
You need, my friends, a loving cup,
Your prejudice to drown.
'The doors of hope are open wide
To all within the land,
With God forever on our side,
This sentiment will stand.'
With spinal column stout and strong,
With arm that's made of steel,
He crushes prejudice and wrong,
And makes the demons reel.
To heal the nation's open sore
Of hatred for a race,
He wider swings the open door,
And bares the monsters face.
No president could stem the tide
Of opposition blind,
Since Lincoln for the Negro died,
Till Roosevelt we find.
Long may he live to bless the land
With truth and liberty,
Who for the right will take a stand
And set a nation free.
Then Roosevelt for nineteen four
Our president should be,
Who gives to all an open door
Of opportunity.
poem by Lizelia Augusta Jenkins Moorer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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Prejudice
How strangely blind is prejudice, the Negro's greatest foe!
It never fails to see the wrong but naught of good can know.
'Tis blind to all that's lofty, yea, to truth it is opposed,
Degrading things will ope his eyes, while good will keep them closed.
How cruel, too, is prejudice! how wicked is the tongue!
The evils reign supremely there, the bad is ever sung;
With some the Negro needs a soul, with others he's a brute,
In silence those remaining live and naught of this dispute.
The schools it legislates against, in keeping Negroes down,
Whatever tends to elevate it meets it with a frown.
It gives to them the Jim Crow car and vessels on the sea;
It makes the stockade to exist and take their liberty.
It makes the press to vacillate up the Negro's name,
The pulpit makes a compromise with evil, for the same,
It makes the Pharaohs of today and seals them with its ban,
It strives to close the door of hope upon the Negro man.
It causes mobs to formulate, to come and go at will,
At morning, evening, noon or night, a Negro man to kill,
It brings injustice to the courts when Negro men are tried,
It wrings the ballot from their hands—a thousand wrongs beside.
It is the country's greatest curse, the nation's open sore,
It slowly saps the precious life, is poison to the core,
Such ravages gave certain death to nations in the past,
The same will lay this country low, its fondest hopes will blast.
It minimizes all that's good and magnifies the ill,
The devil's mission upon earth, it clamors to fulfill;
'Twas prejudice that caused the death of Christ upon the tree,
He knows the pangs that Negroes feel and gives them sympathy.
When men refuse to see the light a darkness is assured,
Such blindness comes upon the scene as never can be cured!
Contagious is the dread disease, for Negroes learn to view
The white man with suspicious eyes, but here's a thing that's new.
The Negro Problem of the land, and all the same entails,
Will be no more whene'er we find a sentiment prevails,
To bury prejudice so deep it never can arise
Till all the races of the earth shall meet above the skies.
Twas God who made the Negro black, the reasons are His own
One blood the nations all the same, the facts are too well known,
He also made the Golden Rule, to use the neighbor well,
Shall prejudice among us dwell forever? who can tell?
poem by Lizelia Augusta Jenkins Moorer
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The Crum Appointment
You, no doubt, have heard the story told of Charleston by the sea,
How they persecute a Negro when a man he tries to be,
'Tis of national importance and the world enjoys the sport,
Caused by William Crum's appointment as collector of the port.
When the president decided to appoint him to the place,
Then a train of opposition from the city set apace,
'Our objection to a Negro,' said the whites, 'has ever been,
That we fear contamination from the color of his skin.'
This the president dishonored, then they brought another plea,
'To the great and grand old party, he has faithless proved to be,'
Crum his loyalty established and the fallacy declared,
Brought McComas to his rescue and the prejudice was bared.
To the friends within the senate they directed their appeal,
To defeat his confirmation and suppress a Negro's weal,
For a time the plan succeeded, thus a vote was thwarted twice—
He was promptly re-appointed till the same was numbered thrice.
Then they tried intimidation, told him how the race would lose
All the favors of the white man, and between these he must choose,
They persuaded and they threatened, aye, the Southern press was wild,
In denouncing such an outrage, how the city was defiled!
He with patience bore their envy, heard the clamor and the din,
Ev'ry accusation answered, save the color of his skin,
As a pillar of Gibraltar, he in firmness took a stand,
Braved the storm of opposition like a Moses of the land.
When at length he was commissioned, great, indeed, the city's change,
'Twas a hundred, aye, and fifty that applied for work! how strange!
'Twas the very class of people that his color filled with dread
Who then asked for sub-positions, though a Negro man was head.
Then a telegram was brought him saying, salary was paid,
To no one who was appointed when the senate gave no aid,
Equal to the dire occasion, he made answer, ''Tis no test,
Till the government shall warn me I'll take chances with the rest.'
Now contamination's mountain sinks away to common dust,
They are not afraid of Negroes but desire the place of trust,
They want Negroes to be servants and their bosses to be white,
Prejudice distorts their visions and they cannot see the right.
poem by Lizelia Augusta Jenkins Moorer
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History In The Making
history was in the making on this very day
where Barack Obama became the 44th president of the u.s.a.
for two years he campaigned across this nation of ours
and brought to light, graft and political power.
he brought to light that it was 'time for change'
and this country will never be the same.
he tore down the walls of discrimination
and oppression in this land
and told america it was time to take a stand.
he showed the people that freedom can ring
and made this nation stand up and sing.
no other inauguration in the history of man
could compare to this in our promised land.
the world had been watching every move we make
of that there is no mistake.
and the only thing that this world could see
'was abe lincoln sitting in his chair'
happy faces every where.
the dreams of simple men this day came to life
when the first black president
stood there with his wife.
Lincoln, Kennedy, King, to name just a few
have finally gotten to see their dreams come true.
equality is what we sought
and for equality is what we fought.
this was the dream of this nation
this dream is our salvation
so america we stand with pride
for in this land freedom rides.
poem by Louis Rams
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Must Be Freed
The ante-bellum Negro prayed,
For God to intercede,
And God in answer to him said,
'Your children shall be freed.'
The hand was seen upon the wall,
The fates at once decreed
That Negro bondsmen one and all,
Should soon be free, indeed.
'If Abraham Lincoln's president'
The South said, 'we'll secede;'
They apprehended he'd consent,
For Negroes to be freed.
To battle North against the South,
O'er states rights was agreed,
But echo from the cannon's mouth,
Said, 'Negroes must be freed.'
Confed'rates did with marked success,
McClellan's steps impede,
Till Abr'm Lincoln did confess,
That Negroes must be freed.
The Union boys with heaven's strength,
From that time did succeed;
And fought with valor till at length,
The Negro slaves were freed.
The Jim Crow car for Negroes made,
To crush their pride, indeed,
Has on the harps of thinkers played,
Those people must be freed.
The right of suffrage from the men,
Is taken out of greed;
A better day is coming when
They shall from this be freed.
Black men before the lyncher's rope,
In vain for mercy plead,
But justice cries, 'There is a hope,
From such you shall be freed.'
From ignorance and poverty,
From superstition's creed,
From those who crush his liberty,
The Negro must be freed.
The hand has written on the wall,
The clouds must all recede,
For God Whose word can never fall,
Says,'Negroes must be freed.'
poem by Lizelia Augusta Jenkins Moorer
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Presidential Stand
the world economy has gotten out of hand
president OBAMA is the first to take a stand.
he told the republicans: i will do whatever
i have to do 'with or without you'.
we can not stand idlely by and see our nation die.
there will be controversy on what will
and what will not work. but if we do nothing
to help the economy.
'it will show we failed in our history'.
the president has problems galore
and different solutions he has in store.
he is doing what no president has done before.
by grabbing the bull by the reins
and riding it all the way.
will he fall or will he stay?
we must help him make the corral smaller
so that he does not fall to the ground.
then no solutions will be found.
our nation and all the world is watching him
and if we don't help, it's a crying sin.
what will it take for this nation to see
he's the first black president in our history.
it seems like he's fighting a losing battle
with very little support from his peers.
who are still living in fear.
the politicians think:
what if i help and it does'nt work?
i will be the political jerk. i will get so much slack
and there won't be any turning back.
but! if his plans do succeed, on his plans i can feed.
i can ride the waves to the top, and knowing that i will not flop.
the public always remembers the bad
and very rarely the good.
either way it will go into our history books.
of the stands that we took.
i would prefer to be remembered as the afterthought
briefly in their minds, rather than not at all.
because i did'nt have the gall
to stand up for something thats right
and help him to continue the fight.
so it is up to all of us, and 'in him we'll put our trust'.
no one person can do it all by themselves
and we know this very well.
for everything that he has fought
as politicians we should all give our support.
we must do whatever it takes
to help the country, before it's too late.
poem by Louis Rams
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Negro Heroines
Down in history we find it and in grandest works of art,
How the men on fields of battle play so well the soldier's part,
But I come to tell the story of relief from care and pain
Rendered them by Negro women in the Cuban War with Spain.
When the scourge of yellow fever fell upon the boys in blue.
And the nation stood in wonder scarcely knowing what to do,
There was found a Negro woman, Mrs. Curtis was her name,
Wife, she was, of a physician with the highest social fame.
When the name of Mrs. Curtis fell upon the nation's ear
And her worth on such occasions had been shown in language clear,
She was summoned by McKinley to the White House—there to plan
How to change the dread condition; how to stay the soldier's ban.
By him there she was commissioned, given fullest oversight
Of relieving fever-stricken in the famous Cuban fight;
With a confidence unfailing, she her preparations made—
Uncle Sam his backing promised true success could not be stayed.
When a call she made for helpers, from the nation's busy throng,
The response from Negro nurses came three hundred eighty strong,
In the Catholics were also, found one hundred twenty nuns,
Who would brave the field as nurses for the fever-stricken ones.
In this noble work of mercy were their duties done so well
That a halo of enchantment round them all is made to dwell,
When we search the war department no complaint of them is found,
Not a word to their discredit and to truth that record's bound.
While upon the field of battle helping stem the fever's tide,
While upon that angel mission seven Negro nurses died,
In this work the nuns had fallen till the same had numbered four;
Thus on snowy, angel pinions they the news to heaven bore.
When our boys had thrashed the Spaniards, Mrs. Curtis straightway sent
A petition into congress praying that a monument
Be at Arlington erected out of sacred memory
Of the nurses who in Cuba died to make the island free.
Mrs. Curtis went in person, she in congress did appear,
Told the story of her labors, of her precious deeds of cheer,
She convincingly impressed it in the nation's congress true,
That for those who fell on duty still a monument was due.
An apportionment by congress for the same at once was made,
Yea, to make a fit memorial for the nation's honored dead;
Twenty-five will name the thousands of the dollars that were spent—
In the nation's cemetery stands the nurses' monument.
Mrs. Curtis and her nurses have been valiant in the strife,
May such heroines be favored with a long and happy life;
In the face of such achievements on the nation's battle field,
Prejudice is made to tremble, partly too, his lips are sealed.
poem by Lizelia Augusta Jenkins Moorer
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Emancipation Day
The sixties brought a clash of arms—
The mem'ry of it thrills and charms—
While Negro slaves for freedom prayed,
Till Heaven bowed to give them aid.
The God of nations—God of right—
Kept back success within the fight,
Till Lincoln vowed on bended knee,
To set the Negro bondsmen free.
The first of January, see!
In eighteen hundred sixty three,
The first Emancipation Day,
When mad oppressors lost their sway,
The sun of freedom rose that day,
The night of bondage drove away,
When sainted Lincoln did decree,
That slaves forever should be free.
As years of time have come and gone,
For each the Negro race has borne,
Abundant fruit in freedom's name,
That will not bring the nation shame.
Emancipation Day, so great!
With joy we meet to celebrate,
The Sun of Righteousness we hail,
Who died that freedom might prevail.
poem by Lizelia Augusta Jenkins Moorer
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If I Was President
Election times coming.
Who you gonna vote for?
If I was President,
I'd get elected on Friday,
Assasinated on Saturday,
Burried on Sunday, then go back to work on Monday.
If I was President, If I was President, If I was President
Instead of spendin' Billions on the war,
I could use that money so I can feed the poor.
Cause I know some so poor, when it rains that's when they shower
Screamin' "Fight the power!" That's when the vulture devours.
If I was President,
I'd get elected on Friday,
Assasinated on Saturday,
Burried on Sunday. Then go back to work on Monday
If I was President, If I was President, If I was President.
I know some soldiers that sleep but they can't dream,
Wake up with screams, sounds of them succeed.
So take this medal of honor for your bravery,
I wish you the best care for you and your family.
If I was President,
I'd get elected on Friday,
Assasinated on Saturday,
Burried on Sunday, then go back to work on Monday.
If I was President, If I was President, If I was President.
But the radio won't play this. They call it rebel music.
How can you refuse it? Children of Moses.
Tell the children the truth, the truth.
It's not all that bling that's dimonds.
Tell them the truth, the truth.
Most of yall wear cubics of zycomians.
Tell them the truth, the truth.
Your soldiers worth more than diamonds.
Yeah, If I was President
All blacks have reperation no segregation
Feed the nation until there's no famine Muslims, Jews, Christians
would all hold hands, every week on the beach party by the sand
Word up, take trips on Air Force One,
No need to bring no homless with no sneaks to Air Force One.
Better schools in the hood, better teachers for the classes,
making money, paying no taxes.
Find the best scientist tell'em come up with an answer, I want the
cure for aids and cancer. But I gotta watch my back sniper gonna
heal with the steel waitin for JFK.
If I was President, If I was President.
I'd get elected on Friday,
Assasinated on Saturday,
Burried on Sunday, then go back to work on Monday.
If I was President, If I was President.
I feel the rain comming let me play the guitar for them right now.
(let's go)
Rescue g's
Yeah!
song performed by by Wyclef Jean
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Voice of the Negro
All ye nations, pause a moment! listen to the Negro's voice,
Coming up from all vocations where his life has made a choice!
Listen to each rank or station, as you cross the sea of time,
It is heard in ev'ry nation, any race and ev'ry clime.
If you'll go among the tradesmen and their work of worth inspect,
If you'll tarry with the lowly and their lack of skill detect,
If you'll travel o'er the planet, filled with thought, with action stirred,
In them all you'll find, my brother, that the Negro's voice is heard.
Search the patents of invention, or the soldiers record find,
Peep into the author's study, or the poet keep in mind,
In the avenues of science or the broadest fields of art,
You. will hear the voice of Negroes as they bravely play their part.
As good lawyers and physicians, or as men who're called to preach.
As an orator and statesman who the hearts of people reach,
As you view the great professions that have made the world rejoice,
If you'll listen for a moment, you will hear the Negro's voice.
'Tis a voice that cries for justice, not for favors to be shown,
For an equal chance with others, for a manhood of its own,
Give that voice a proper hearing in the forum of the world,
Then all prejudice and envy from the race will soon be hurled.
poem by Lizelia Augusta Jenkins Moorer
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Hope Is An Open Window
(christopher ward/tim tickner/diana ross)
Are we not more than hunger and music
Are we not more than harlequins and horns
Are we not more than color and drums
Are we not more than anger and dance
Give me courage so I can spread it over my face and mouth
Give me courage, give me courage
Give me courage, give me courage
I walk these city streets see the people there
Look into the eyes of quiet despair
And the faces tell a story that words never can
And it falls to everyone of us to try and understand
Out of kindness
One act of grace makes the world we walk a better place
Hope is an open window
Love an open door
To reach out for each other
Is what we came here for
Through an open window
We can see the way
If we hold on to each other, every day
We build walls of suspicion with bars of fears
Tell ourselves well be safe in here
I know more brings us together
Than keeps up apart
First we got to tear down these walls within our hearts
We might be strangers, we can be friends
You and I we both need to let somebody in
Hope is an open window
Love an open door
To reach out for each other
Is what we came here for
Through an open window
We can see the way
If we hold on to each other, every day
Give me courage so I can spread over my face and mouth
We are secret rivers with shaking hips and crests
Come awake in our thunder so that our eyes can see behind trees
Give me courage so I can spread over my face and mouth
Give me courage, give me courage
Give me courage, give me courage
Hope is an open window
Loves an open door
To reach out for each other
Is what we came here for
Through an open window
We can see the way
If we hold on to each other, every day
Hope is an open window
Love an open door
Gotta be there for each other
Is what we sent here for
Through an open window
We can find a way
To love one another
Hope is an open window
Love an open door
song performed by by Diana Ross
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Why Negroes Don't Unite
Why of all the many races in the country where we live,
Do we find so little union as the Negro race can give?
Is it lack of love? or color? who will give the reason true,
Why they cherish opposition more than other peoples do?
We'll examine for a moment, how the Negro race is made,
Now, we find them all complexions, any hue and ev'ry shade,
Scraps of all the human races in among them we can find,
All the many dispositions, ev'ry nation of its kind.
Ev'ry tribe will hang together, though among the Negroes found,
Which will bring about dissensions, on all questions that abound,
Ev'ry blood must have a 'say so,' red or yellow, white or black,
Differ always in opinion, racial union always lack.
Hark! the whites of this assembly to a special plan agree,
Lo! the red men now are holding their opinion, don't you see?
Aye, the blacks must have a hearing in the question of today,
Yellow folks compose a factor and the same will have a say.
Scripture tells how Ham was tickled by the shame of Noah's plight,
How his brothers with a mantle shielded Noah from the light,
Now we find that Ham's descendants keep disgraces well exposed,
While the children of the others keep a shameful secret closed.
From inheritance the Negro gets his levity and mirth,
More than any other species of the races of the earth,
He rejoices in reporting what will bring his neighbor shame,
Charity extends her mantle and the others cover blame.
When the race discards the fragments, by the others thrown aside,
And suppresses altogether sinful levity and pride,
Then begins a cultivation of a union of the race,
That will strengthen all its borders which for naught will yield apace.
poem by Lizelia Augusta Jenkins Moorer
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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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F.d.r. In Trinidad
(fitz maclean)
(c) - (g) - (am) capo on 2
(c) when roosevelt came to the land of the (g) hummingbird shouts of welcome were (c) heard
Roosevelt came to the land of the (g) hummingbird shouts of welcome were (c) heard
His visit to their (am) island is bound to be an epoch in (g) local (c) history
Definitely (am) marking the new e (g) ra, keeping trinidad in ameri (c) ca
For this great man jubilation, was evinced by the entire population
Friendship for the u.s.a. was shown and from his house to stars and the stripes were flown
For the state to open the gate to the president of these united states
In fact everybody was glad to welcome roosevelt to trinidad
We are privileged to see the democratic president of the great republic
With his charming and genial personality and his wonderful urbanity
We were struck by his modest style and we were intrigued by the famous roosevelt smile
No wonder why everybody was glad to welcome roosevelt to trinidad
Now we understand that the president has just been on a visit to brazil and the argentine
Mr. cordell hull in attendance they took part in a peace conference
To stop war and atrocity and make the world safe for democracy
The greatest event in the century in the interest of suffering humanity
song performed by by Ry Cooder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Samurai-The Grit
the blade that settle in the land of the rising sun,
a course of wind that blew to the orient seas,
holding on to stand away from the foreign land,
its beauty allure, the cherry blossom's aura, to
the might of the ancient samurai, steadfastly
awake the vigor of the mystic Fuji mountain
oh, a throne that you live forever, a crystal clear
of snow you give to live, stand as you hold, the
stuff you made, the blade that shield, to gun
powder, you take
ambient triumph, you make, in the century you
take, keep me know that you are a nation of
people whose shintoism belief as it flows, where
elements of nature is balance
live as you go, to the land where the rising sun
stand, where the horizon of light passes the night,
in the breeze of the pacific ocean, lay a nation
that is free
as you go, let our dream brings......its light....that
beyond that rays....our race live forever
poem by Antonio Liao
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The Negro Ballot
Can America be reckoned as the country of the free?
In the light of recent actions 'tis a truth that's hard to see.
It has taken from the Negro his protection, yea, his vote,
How oppressive is the finger that such cruel mandates wrote!
'Equal rights are not for Negroes; they shall never have a vote,
To supremacy of white man shall be raised the highest note.
Keep the black man from the ballot and we'll treat him as we please,
With no means for his protection, we will rule with perfect ease.'
Those are words of Southern white men, backed, it seems, by all the land,
From the blacks they'll take the ballot, with their rights on every hand;
O, the maladministration in enforcement of the ills,
Thus they re-enslave the Negro till their cup of evil fills.
When appeal is made to Congress for protection of a race,
They will promptly dodge the issue, saying,'This is not the place;
In the courts alone there's power to decide it for a fact,'
'We evade it,' says the court-room, 'Congress has the power to act.'
So when Negroes cry for justice in this commonwealth of ours,
There is none to give an answer, none to regulate the powers,
Congress claims no jurisdiction, and the courts declare the same,
None in all this Christian nation who will face the load of shame.
More than all the host of Egypt or the Canaanites of old,
Were the Jews when God was captain of the army, we are told.
Stronger than the ancient mountain of the waters of the sea,
Nature hastened to the rescue, making all opposers flee.
Though Elisha, when at Dothan, was encompassed round about,
By the forces of Benhadad, as he put the Jews to rout,
His protection came from heaven in the chariots of fire,
Yea, the angels and the horses told the earth of heaven's ire.
When for God and fight we battle, numbers cannot make a mark,
For while countless millions perished, eight were saved in Noah's ark.
'Twas the faithful few, my readers, who were found on holy ground,
That were saved, while all remaining in the raging flood were drowned.
Tell me not of shame or failure in a just and righteous cause,
For the right at length will triumph in the face of wicked laws,
Heaven still extends protection to the weakened and oppressed,
Who will cry to God for succor and relief when sore distressed.
Yea, the angel still encampeth round about when Christians fear,
To deliver them from evil and their souls to fill with cheer.
With the faith of ancient Hebrews should the Negro of today,
Ask the Maker for the ballot, and with courage wend his way.
If a fervent prayer is offered by a race ten million strong,
Telling of discrimination, persecution, hate, and wrong,
God will hasten to the rescue and the ballot will restore,
And reclaim for Negro manhood, equal justice evermore.
poem by Lizelia Augusta Jenkins Moorer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Presidential Prayer
Lord, please bless our president,
Guide him every day and night
Through all the trials and tribulations,
Keep him forever in thy sight.
Let him know of thy presence
Each trying step along the way.
Give him the strength and courage
To withstand adversity, come what may.
Be his prudent and consoling mentor
In these times of economic strife.
Guide him past the Nation's pitfalls
During his tenure of presidential life.
When his term of office is over,
Hopefully, the Union will be safe and secure,
Where peace and the economy flourish
Beyond the Nation's open door.
poem by Joseph T. Renaldi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Truth Suppressed
Why do people sit in darkness as regards the Negro race?
Why so ignorant are nations of conditions in the case?
'Tis because the facts are strangled by a prejudice intense,
Truth is murdered in the forum when she cries in his defence.
If a white man braves the tempest and takes up the Negro's cause,
Thus exposing to the country the injustice of its laws,
He is met with ostracism and consigned to deep disgrace,
He is branded as a traitor to himself and to his race.
Did you know that Sledd of Oxford, his professorship resigned,
When he gave the press an outline of how Negroes are maligned,
When the world he gave the story of their wrongs on ev'ry hand,
And rebuked his brother white man for supporting such a stand?
Have you heard the tale of Bassett's being taken up and tried,
By the trustees of his college and the public too, beside?
He evoked the shaft of censure such as mad men would decree,
Just for writing good opinions of a Negro, don't you see?
We esteem the two professors being natives of the South,
Who would follow their convictions in the face of censure's mouth,
At a risk of their positions, prizing justice more than gold,
Such a sacrifice we'll cherish till the night away has rolled.
Manhood now is at a premium that such risky things will do,
When the life is so endangered from a social point of view,
'Tis a milestone of advancement when a Bassett or a Sledd
Rises higher than surroundings, up above the critic's dread.
If the North its grief expresses, as it views the ill so rife,
It is promptly called a meddler, an engenderer of strife,
Then the politicians clamor, while the press takes up the song,
And the people join the chorus in denouncing such a wrong.
We are proud of sympathizers in the great unequal fight,
In the struggle for true manhood and for triumph of the right,
'Tis exposure maims the evils as they viciously unfold,
So his sufferings, unvarnished, by the Negro must be told.
Truth has perished as a martyr, in her grave she's laid to rest,
Though she never fails of rising when the Father thinketh best,
Soon there'!l be a resurrection and conditions 'twill expose,
That will bring the Negro's manhood in the midst of wicked foes.
poem by Lizelia Augusta Jenkins Moorer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Protecting all this land, working with the President to establish all these monuments, to, you know... I think the President has a land protection record that's second to no one in this century, maybe Teddy Roosevelt.
quote by Bruce Babbitt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Peonage System
The religious wars of Europe have been numbered with the past,
But a worse thing, bright America with clouds has overcast,
'Tis the heinous contract system that plantation life contains,
Worse than slavery's conditions in a land where freedom reigns.
Negroes forced in one roomed cabins, mother's from their children torn
All the day till dark of evening from the dawn of early morn,
Sweet affection, thrift and neatness, all that perfect homes would bring,
Yea, humanity is buried at command of money's king.
Shall the future of the Negro by the white man be suppressed,
In his forcing from the present all that makes the future best?
Shall the training of the children be neglected? passing strange
Things material for the morals of the Negro they exchange.
Oft we find an overseer with a gun and club and whip,
Who at night within the stockade locks the Negroes, lest they skip,
If they offer a resistance for their treatment in this cage,
They are clubed into submission in the overseer's rage.
Some are kidnapped for the stockade, others taken there for debt,
Fed with only bread and water and for more they dare not fret,
They are worked like beasts of burden and the story here is told,
Of the sacrifice of manhood to a god that's made of gold!
'Tis an open, open secret how the white man without pain,
Sells the evil one his conscience out of greed for earthly gain,
Barbarism can't surpass it, races cannot lower fall,
'Mid this great enlightened country money's king rules over all.
If a farm hand makes an effort in the schooling of himself,
Or a mother will persist in looking up her little elf,
They must leave the old plantation for a more congenial clime,
'No enlightenment for Negroes,' planters say, ' 'tis loss of time.'
'Send to Africa the Negro,' they have talked of such you know,
Like to England's Irish question, planters cannot let him go,
Hear the planter loudly singing, this the chorus of the song:
'Keep the 'niggers,' all the 'niggers' in the field where they belong!'
Now he pleads for better treatment, why dehumanize a race?
On the farm he's proved his service and there's none to take his place,
None to stand the heat of summer in the making of the crop,
Whites are taught to need his labor and they cannot learn to stop.
Sad, indeed, to find a nation, bowing down to money's might,
Sacrificing all that's noble, all that's beautiful and right,
'Righteousness exalts a nation,' sin can only bring it shame,
Serve no other god, I warn you, in the God of heaven's name.
poem by Lizelia Augusta Jenkins Moorer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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