En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Negress In Notre Dame

When I attended Mass today
A coloured maid sat down by me,
And as I watched her kneel and pray,
Her reverence was good to see.
For whether there may be or no'
A merciful and mighty God,
The love for Him is like a glow
That glorifies the meanest clod.

And then a starched and snotty dame
Who sat the other side of me
Said: "Monsieur, is it not a shame
Such things should be allowed to be?
In my homeland, I'm proud to say,
We know to handle niggers right,
And wouldn't let a black wench pray
And worship God beside a white."

Her tone so tart bewilderd me,
For I am just a simple man.
A friend in every one I see,
Though yellow, brown or black and tan.
For I would father children five
With any comely coloured maid,
And lush with any man alive,
Of any race, of any shade.

Religion may be false or true,
The Churches may be wrong or right,
But if there be the Faith in you
It can be like a shining light.
And though I lack not piety
And pray my best, I'm sure that God
To that black wench and not to me
Would give his most approving nod.

Aye, you may scrub him day and night,
You'll never change a nigger's hide;
But maybe he is just as white,
(Or even more) than you...inside.

poem by Robert William Service
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We are Seven

--------A Simple Child,
That lightly draws its breath,
And feels its life in every limb,
What should it know of death?

I met a little cottage Girl:
She was eight years old, she said;
Her hair was thick with many a curl
That clustered round her head.

She had a rustic, woodland air,
And she was wildly clad:
Her eyes were fair, and very fair;
--Her beauty made me glad.

"Sisters and brothers, little Maid,
How many may you be?"
"How many? Seven in all," she said
And wondering looked at me.

"And where are they? I pray you tell."
She answered, "Seven are we;
And two of us at Conway dwell,
And two are gone to sea.

"Two of us in the church-yard lie,
My sister and my brother;
And, in the church-yard cottage, I
Dwell near them with my mother."

"You say that two at Conway dwell,
And two are gone to sea,
Yet ye are seven!--I pray you tell,
Sweet Maid, how this may be."

Then did the little Maid reply,
"Seven boys and girls are we;
Two of us in the church-yard lie,
Beneath the church-yard tree."

"You run about, my little Maid,
Your limbs they are alive;
If two are in the church-yard laid,
Then ye are only five."

"Their graves are green, they may be seen,"
The little Maid replied,
"Twelve steps or more from my mother's door,
And they are side by side.

"My stockings there I often knit,
My kerchief there I hem;
And there upon the ground I sit,
And sing a song to them.

"And often after sunset, Sir,
When it is light and fair,
I take my little porringer,
And eat my supper there.

"The first that died was sister Jane;
In bed she moaning lay,
Till God released her of her pain;
And then she went away.

"So in the church-yard she was laid;
And, when the grass was dry,
Together round her grave we played,
My brother John and I.

"And when the ground was white with snow,
And I could run and slide,
My brother John was forced to go,
And he lies by her side."

"How many are you, then," said I,
"If they two are in heaven?"
Quick was the little Maid's reply,
"O Master! we are seven."

"But they are dead; those two are dead!
Their spirits are in heaven!"
'Twas throwing words away; for still
The little Maid would have her will,
And said, "Nay, we are seven!"

poem by William Wordsworth
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The Burdens of All

We may sigh o'er the heavy burdens
Of the black, the brown and white;
But if we all clasped hands together
The burdens would be more light.
How to solve life's saddest problems,
Its weariness, want and woe,
Was answered by One who suffered
In Palestine long ago.

He gave from his heart this precept,
To ease the burdens of men,
"As ye would that others do to you
Do ye even so to them."
Life's heavy, wearisome burdens
Will change to a gracious trust
When men shall learn in the light of God
To be merciful and just.

Where war has sharpened his weapons,
And slavery masterful had,
Let white and black and brown unite
To build the kingdom of God.
And never attempt in madness
To build a kingdom or state,
Through greed of gold or lust of power,
On the crumbling stones of hate.

The burdens will always he heavy,
The sunshine fade into night,
Till mercy and justice shall cement
The black, the brown and the white.
And earth shall answer with gladness,
The herald angel's refrain,
When "Peace on earth, good will to men"
Was the burden of their strain.

poem by Frances Ellen Watkins Harper
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Another Acrostic ( In the style of Father William )

"Are you deaf, Father William!" the young man said,
"Did you hear what I told you just now?
"Excuse me for shouting! Don't waggle your head
"Like a blundering, sleepy old cow!
"A little maid dwelling in Wallington Town,
"Is my friend, so I beg to remark:
"Do you think she'd be pleased if a book were sent down
"Entitled 'The Hunt of the Snark?'"

"Pack it up in brown paper!" the old man cried,
"And seal it with olive-and-dove.
"I command you to do it!" he added with pride,
"Nor forget, my good fellow to send her beside
"Easter Greetings, and give her my love."

poem by Lewis Carroll
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Sweet Pea

Oh my sweet pea,
The white child doesn't know the black child;
Oh my sweet pea,
The white child doesn't know the coloured child;
But the black child is aware of the coloured and the white!
And this poem is to bring forth the message of love to all amnkind,
Because we were all made by the Creator!
Just as it is written,
So is the seed of the Medes;
And like Sodom and Gomorrah!
For i saw people queuing for pig meat and,
Like the sins of our past.
Of the people and by the people,
Read your Bible and pray everyday;
For many are still not ready to learn.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Black, White Or Coloured

I was born black and you were born white or coloured;
But we all came from the lovely hands of the Creator,
Because the Creator loves colours!
And like the muse of the rainbow seen across the sky.

I am always black! !
In the sun, in sickness and even when i die;
But the Creator made it so,
And i will be buried as a black when i die.

You were born white or coloured,
But you came out of the womb with the colour of the rose!
And you became whit eor coloured in the process of your growth,
But you are always blue when it is cold.

You do turn green when there is fear in your eyes!
But yellow when you are sick;
And like the various colours of the rainbow as seen across the sky,
But you will be grey when you die.

This shows that i am always black from birth to death,
But you do have various colours to satisfy your muse like the rainbow;
So you are more coloured than i am in this life,
And we all know the reality of these facts on this earth.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Black raven, White dove

When it's black,
Like the raven,
The well is full, but full of what?
My sun is shining in a half pale burst,
With toxic, red hot guilt

And as if in stark contrast,
The white dove just hits home-
And its what I've always wanted alive,
But then when I give some brainpower,
I decide that maybe it could be dead-
And it took the black to show it.

But then the black of the raven,
So beautifully stunning,
I look at her and all I see,
Is the storm in her eyes,
And the dove
Should be crying
For it doesn't know
That my white heart is dying
Replaced by the black of the right

"Home is where the heart is"
Then my home's firmly with the white,
It's where I've lived,
For six months past,
And I feel like I belong
I feel like I am home there
But then I see,
Cupid's stupid decree-
With one black wing and one white,
But which is wrong?
Which right?

But is the dove ever going to surrender?
Wave its' flag and give in to the raven?
Cause the raven's a-pecking,
And so far she's winning,
And with a fight,
And a laboratory,
The boy of white has slim chance of winning.

Cause now that it's out,
I'm secretly devout,
So secretly, darkly obsessed,
With the black of the girl,
And the light blue of the raven's eye,
But then its' always been white,
The dove the keeper of my heart,
Cause I found the dove lost,
With clips in his wings,
And I tried to set him free
I showed all that he belonged to me
And he's the one who set me free,
My first and ever pet,
The first one I've wanted to be with-
Forever.

And the dove's innocent eyes,
And repeated cries,
Made me overlook the fact he can't fly,
But I'm not going to feed him,
All of his food,
He needs to live on his own too so he won't die

But could the raven ever be-
Just with me?
Even if the raven is more beautiful,
How does she know,
And how do I?
That she won't kill me,
That we won't die.

So used to the dove,
The raven's so new,
And there's so much evidence of some grey hue-

An ever-waging war,
Of black and white,
An ever-waging war,
Of wrong and right,
The dove or the raven,
Only you can decide,
The dove or the raven,
The tone that is inside.

poem by Ally Gunther
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You Are Old Father William

"You are old, father William," the young man said,
"And your hair has become very white;
And yet you incessantly stand on your head --
Do you think, at your age, it is right?

"In my youth," father William replied to his son,
"I feared it might injure the brain;
But, now that I'm perfectly sure I have none,
Why, I do it again and again."

"You are old," said the youth, "as I mentioned before,
And you have grown most uncommonly fat;
Yet you turned a back-somersault in at the door --
Pray what is the reason for that?"

"In my youth," said the sage, as he shook his grey locks,
"I kept all my limbs very supple
By the use of this ointment -- one shilling a box --
Allow me to sell you a couple?"

"You are old," said the youth, "and your jaws are too weak
For anything tougher than suet;
Yet you finished the goose, with the bones and the beak --
Pray, how did you mange to do it?"

"In my youth," said his fater, "I took to the law,
And argued each case with my wife;
And the muscular strength, which it gave to my jaw,
Has lasted the rest of my life."

"You are old," said the youth, "one would hardly suppose
That your eye was as steady as every;
Yet you balanced an eel on the tend of your nose --
What made you so awfully clever?"

"I have answered three questions, and that is enough,"
Said his father. "Don't give yourself airs!
Do you think I can listen all day to such stuff?

Be off, or I'll kick you down stairs.

poem by Lewis Carroll
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The Angel Wars

I wont pray here
Or bow my head
I wont praise your name
I wont kneel down.
I wont pray to you
On this side of sane (oh lord)
I wont pray to you
On this side of hell (father)
I wont pray to you
On this side of heaven again.
I dont need faith
Forgiveness of sin
I dont need saving
I dont need lies.
I dont believe
In the angel wars (oh lord)
I dont believe
In the virgin birth (father)
I dont believe
In the cross on the hill (jesus)
I dont believe
In the kindness of God to man.
Ill drive a stake
Through the black of your heart (oh lord)
Ill pull down your temples
And burn every word (father)
Ill kill all the angels
That show me the light (jesus)
Ill drift into darkness
And tear out the soul of god

song performed by by Gary Numan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What shall I your true love tell?

*

What shall I your true love tell,
Earth forsaking maid?
What shall I your true love tell
When life's spectre's laid?
"Tell him that, our side the grave,
Maid may not believe
Life should be so sad to have,
That's so sad to leave!"
What shall I your true love tell
When I come to him?
What shall I your true love tell
Eyes growing dim?
"Tell him this, when you shall part
From a maiden pined;
That I see him with my heart,
Now my eyes are blind."
What shall I your true love tell
Speaking while is scant?
What shall I your true love tell
Death's white postulant?
"Tell him love, with speech at strife,
For last utterance saith:
`I who loved with all my life,
Loved with all my death.'"

*

poem by Francis Thompson
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Step Out In Faith

Some seek God’s face both night and day
For months and even years
They’ll kneel and pray and pray and pray
With heart and soul in tears

They know The Lord can do this thing
Their faith in Christ is strong
And so with prayer God’s praise they’ll sing
Believing nothing’s wrong

But faith is not just sitting still
True faith dictates we stand
If through our deeds we do God’s will
Then God will lend a hand

We need to move we need to stir
We need much more than talk
If mighty things will soon occur
We need in faith to walk

Its good to pray its good to praise
But yet there’s so much more
Consulting God in all our ways
Opens many a door

Step out in faith but not as fools
Learn first to understand
Obey The Lord obey His rules
And see God mighty hand

The Lord may love the songs we sing
Our ways are His concern
He’s not a puppet on a string
Nor water tap to turn

Think not The Lord has all to do
When faith has been received
Action must come from me and you
In Him we have believed

poem by Michael P. Johnson
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Black and White (Stream XV)

I have black thoughts,
It is a black day,
A day when the black dog
Coal black, hovers at my shoulder.
I shoulder the burden.
Deep in the black hole.
Black as a black hearted night.
Negative.
Stark.
Black and white.
I do not call my good days white days.
Why?
Or have white thoughts
On a white day,
When the white dog
Pure white sits upon my shoulder.
Which is unburdened.
Out of the pit,
Luxuriating in the bright white light;
White as the purest snow.
Positive.
For we live in a too white world
Maybe we should have grey days,
And light days.
Why should Black be negative and White poitive?

For me then, today is a grey day.
Maybe tomorrow will be a light day.

Copyright P H Brookes 2012

poem by Paul Brookes
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Battleground

Black nigger white nigger standing in the dark
Listen to the rhythm of the bass boom
Black nigger takes a hit sending up a spark
In the dark heat
Swaying a little to the bass beat
White nigger takes a hit takes money out
Says this is what its all about
Rots your brain - who cares
Black nigger stares
White nigger sighs
I like your music
I like your style
I crack a joke so why dont you smile
White nigger dancing out on the floor tonight
The bands not good but the beat seems right
The bands all black and the floors all white
Clenching fists unite and fight
Rock agianst racism rules tonight
But in the real world
No-one rules
But fists are clenched all right
Down in the underground
Out in the playground
The common ground
Is a battleground
Now you dont have to be black to be a nigger no more
The writings on the wall
Say - black is power
White is flower
Diveded we fall
And behind the wall
Behind the door,
In the dark heat
In the rhythm of the bass beat
Something is wrong
And no-one is taking the blame

song performed by by Joe Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Ghost Train

A straw headed woman, and a barrel chested man,
A pocket full of posies with a hat brim full of sand,
Ooh - waiting for the train that never comes,
A dog chasing the tumbleweeds, across the sandy floor,
That drift along the platform, through the ticket office door,
Ooh - waiting for the train that never comes,
Ooh - waiting for the train that never comes,
But don't tell me there's nothing coming, you don't fool me,
I hear the ghost train rumbling along the tracks - set them free,
And i hear them,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
The station master's writing with a piece of orange chalk,
A hundred cancellations, still no one wants to walk,
Keep the hungry children from the skeletons in the back,
Paid to keep an eye out for the gipsy caravan,
Ooh - waiting for the train that never comes,
Ooh - waiting for the train that never comes,
I hear the ghost train rumbling along the tracks - set them free,
And i hear them,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white (don't try),
It's black and white (don't try),
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
And i hear them,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white don't try to hide...

song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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(Waiting For) The Ghost Train

A straw headed woman, and a barrel chested man,
A pocket full of posies with a hat brim full of sand,
Ooh - waiting for the train that never comes,
A dog chasing the tumbleweeds, across the sandy floor,
That drift along the platform, through the ticket office door,
Ooh - waiting for the train that never comes,
Ooh - waiting for the train that never comes,
But don't tell me there's nothing coming, you don't fool me,
I hear the ghost train rumbling along the tracks - set them free,
And I hear them,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
The station master's writing with a piece of orange chalk,
A hundred cancellations, still no one wants to walk,
Keep the hungry children from the skeletons in the back,
Paid to keep an eye out for the gipsy caravan,
Ooh - waiting for the train that never comes,
Ooh - waiting for the train that never comes,
I hear the ghost train rumbling along the tracks - set them free,
And I hear them,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white (don't try),
It's black and white (don't try),
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
And I hear them,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white don't try to hide

song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Farmer's Daughter

The Rector met a little lass
Who led a heifer by a rope.
Said he: "Why don't you go to Mass?
Do you not want to please the Pope?"

The village maiden made reply,
As on the rope she ceased to pull:
"My father said this morning I
Must take Paquerette to see the bull."

The Rector frowned. ";Tis wrong, I wist
To leave your prayer-book on the shelf.
Your father has a stronger wrist;
Why can't he do the job himself?"

Then lovely in her innocence,
With gaze as pure as meadow pool,
The maid spoke in her sire's defense:
"But Daddy, please your Reverence,
Would rather leave it to the bull."

poem by Robert William Service
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Black Moran

The mule-skinner was Bill Jerome, the passengers were three;
Two tinhorns from the dives of Nome, and Father Tim McGee.
And as for sunny Southland bound, through weary woods they sped,
The solitude that ringed them round was silent as the dead.

Then when the trail crooked crazily, the frost-rimed horses reared,
And from behind a fallen tree a grim galoot appeared;
He wore a parki white as snow, a mask as black as soot,
And carelesslike weaved to and fro a gun as if to shoot.

"Stick up yer mitts an' freeze 'em there!" his raucous voice outrang,
And shaving them by just a hair a blazing rod went bang.
The sleigh jerked to a sharp stand-still: "Okay," drawled Bill Jerome,
"Could be, this guy who aims to kill is Black Moran from Nome."

"You lousy crooks," the bandit cried; "You're slickly heeled I know;
Come, make it snappy, dump outside your booty in the snow."
The gambling pair went putty pale; they crimped as if with cold.
And heaved upon the icy trail two hefty pokes of gold.

Then softly stepping from the sleigh came Father Tim McGee,
And speaking in his gentle way: :Accept my Cross," said he.
"For other treasures have I none, their guilty gold to swell . . .
Please take this crucifix, my son, and may it serve you well."

The bandit whispered in his ear: "Jeez-crize, you got me wrong.
I wouldn't rob you Father dear - to your Church I belong."
Then swiftly striding to the sleigh he dumped the gold back in,
And hollered: "On your knees and pray, you lousy sons of sin!"

"Praise God," said Father Tim McGee, "he made you restitution,
And if he ever kneels to me I'll give him absolution."
"I'll have you guys to understand," said Driver Bill Jerome,
"The squarest gunman in the land is Black Moran form Nome."

poem by Robert William Service
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Some Children See Him

Some children see him
Some children see him lily white,
The baby jesus born this night,
Some children see him lily white,
With tresses soft and fair.
Some children see him bronzed and brown,
The lord of heavn to earth come down;
Some children see him bronzed and brown,
With dark and heavy hair.
Some children see him almond-eyed,
This savior whom we kneel beside,
Some children see him almond-eyed,
With skin of yellow hue.
Some children see him dark as they,
Sweet marys son to whom we pray,
Some children see him dark as they,
And, ah! they love him, too!
The children in each diffrent place
Will see the baby jesus face
Like theirs, but bright with heavnly grace,
And filled with holy light.
O lay aside each earthly thing,
And with thy heart as offering,
Come worship now the infant king.
tis love thats born tonight!

song performed by by Kenny Loggins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pray To God He Understands

Pray, pray when things go wrong
and fears around you
the love you have god will hear in your voice
look up to him
he always near
pray, pray go with your troubles straight to him
pray, pray for god understands
have faith
leaving all in his dear hands.

Pray, pray be calm and still
whatever comes must be his will
his promises like buds unfold
naught that is good will he with hold
pray, pray go with your troubles straight to him
pray, pray for god understands
have faith
leaving all in his dear hands.

Pray, pray till faith grows strong
and in your hart rings heaven's song
the loving god your voice will hear
look up to him he's always near
pray, pray go with your troubles straight to him
pray, pray for god understands
have faith
leaving all in his dear hands.

poem by Djean Whitney
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Does Anyone Know The Colour Of God

God made us different so we could give,
Different perceptions on how we should live,
If he knew it would've caused so much trouble,
He'd have left our planet as a pile of rubble.

He gave us all colours as a lasting gift,
I doubt that he dreamed it would cause such a rift,
But don't blame God for this shady assault,
He gave us all minds, it's entirely our fault.

We really need to focus attention,
As our world enters a dangerous dimension,
That togetherness is what will set the pace,
Not the colour of a persons face.

If the Human Race would just unite,
Then maybe for once we'd all see the light,
That to battle through our stormy weather,
The only way forward is to work together.

Take Lewis Hamilton from formula one,
A world champion second to none,
His Father was black, his mother white,
That never stopped him getting it right.

Another example is the man called Barack,
His mother was white his father black,
This proves beyond doubt what we can achieve,
If we get rid of prejudice and start to believe.

Obama's now president of the United States,
Proud that he walked through those White House gates,
The peoples selection has shown us all,
That regardless of colour we can all stand tall.

If everything we seen was drab and grey,
Would our world look as nice that way,
The flowers and animals on our beautiful planet,
The eagles and ospreys, the sea loving gannet.

Just look at the rainbow way up high,
Those united colours grace a wonderful sky,
The insects the trees all differing shades,
From the Sahara desert to the Everglades.

Regardless of colour you're a Human Being,
None have the right to think We're all seeing,
That one race is strong whilst the other is weak,
The meaning of life proves we're all unique.

If we'd only use our God given skill,
We could unite as one if we had the will,
It's part of our heritage the colour of our skin,
Be proud but united and our battle we'll win.

In essence all Humans are much the same,
As we try to survive in life's great game,
If we could set our differences aside,
The racists and bigots would have nowhere to hide.

Black and White would be no more,
We'd all be welcome at each others door,
The Human Race must now realise,
If we don't work as one our planet dies.

If only the world would follow Gods lead,
The preachers of hate would be forced to concede,
Your colour is beautiful it should not be confined,
It will take every shade to save humankind.

You may be black, brown or red even yellow or white,
Regardless of colour we we all know wrong from right.
If we stopped preaching hatred against one another,
We could actually live as sister and brother.

When you pray to your saviour do you honestly care,
What shade they might be as long as they're there,
This whole concept of colour by humans is flawed,

'' Does Anyone Know The Color Of God ''

poem by Bri Mar
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The Black 'n White Of It

Still, and for reasons I cannot justify,
the two ne'er seem to be shamed
by the blatant polarization....,
of they to the others!
These two alien entities -
the only chemicaled entities
that be, isolated, ablated
and, shunned-by the one and only
Players Club
of Resplendent Brotherhood-
spinning their Wheels
among themselves
like Yugo's... stuck in Siberian snowdrifts,
this concourse of 'a-co-existing' colour,
What Bias! ...Such Arrogance!

____III BEWARE____

Still these colours,
go about their business,
stretching like rainbows
across imaginary lines
of shade and hue,
in its own coloured clique
and per-'spect(ive) rum',
collaged...................,
yet collectively no match
for the symbolical, powerful
Black and White;

Societies original divisional sin
and, i've witnessed their prowess
of the two in conspire
when the two team or partner;
socratically, philosophically.

_____IV SYMBOLISM_____

And if there be any doubt
or reason to......p a u s e...........
..............*cough-cough*...... .....
.......*exhale*......................... ...,
please direct your intelligence
to the non-coloured duo
that signify and symbolize
the hallmark of evenflow,
the trademark of 'Balance',
and..Oui, mon ami.............,
the colours of the Yin and Yang....,
my friend
or as we say in Tokyo...私の友人!

The Power of The Black and White.
And to them, I raise my cup-
re-cap, mon plume,
close my eyes...and Dream...,
as we all do...........,
in Black and White.

____ V 'IN CAUSATUM'_____

'Alas, in the Iris of the Grand Spectrums Eye...
Black and White, like colour, must fade and DIE!
___________THE END! _____________

Ooooooops! BLINDED BY THE DARKSIDE, AGAIN.......!
Sorry...I couldn't help myself...Some things are just not
as clear and simple as Black & White, you know? ! Do You?

FjR

poem by Frank James Ryan Jr.
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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