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Sonnet VII: When Nature

When Nature made her chief work, Stella's eyes,
In color black why wrapp'd she beams so bright?
Would she in beamy black, like painter wise,
Frame daintiest lustre, mix'd of shades and light?

Or did she else that sober hue devise,
In object best to knit and strength our sight,
Lest if no veil those brave gleams did disguise,
They sun-like should more dazzle than delight?

Or would she her miraculous power show,
That whereas black seems Beauty's contrary,
She even if black doth make all beauties flow?

Both so and thus, she minding Love shoud be
Placed ever there, gave him this mourning weed,
To honor all their deaths, who for her bleed.

poem by Philip Sidney
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Sonnet 7: When Nature

When Nature made her chief work, Stella's eyes,
In color black why wrapp'd she beams so bright?
Would she in beamy black, like painter wise,
Frame daintiest lustre, mix'd of shades and light?

Or did she else that sober hue devise,
In object best to knit and strength our sight,
Lest if no veil those brave gleams did disguise,
They sun-like should more dazzle than delight?

Or would she her miraculous power show,
That whereas black seems Beauty's contrary,
She even if black doth make all beauties flow?

Both so and thus, she minding Love shoud be
Placed ever there, gave him this mourning weed,
To honor all their deaths, who for her bleed.

poem by Philip Sidney
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Astrophel and Stella VII: WhenNature Made her Chief Work

When Nature made her chief work, Stella's eyes,
In colour black why wrapt she beams so bright?
Would she in beamy black, like painter wise,
Frame daintiest lustre, mix'd of shades and light?
Or did she else that sober hue devise,
In object best to knit and strength our sight;
Lest, if no veil these brave gleams did disguise,
They, sunlike, should more dazzle than delight?
Or would she her miraculous power show,
That, whereas black seems beauty's contrary,
She even in black doth make all beauties flow?
Both so, and thus,--she, minding Love should be
Plac'd ever there, gave him this mourning weed
To honour all their deaths who for her bleed.

poem by Philip Sidney
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Black

Black is thy thought, doth blacken thy name
Slandered beauty
So black is thy shame
Black is thy pupil doth blacken thy mood
Tortured beauty
So black when thy brood
Black is thy heart doth blacken thy tears
Sorrowful beauty
So black is thy fears
Black is thy skin doth blacken within
Black beauty
So black is thy sin
Black is thy hair doth blacken thy shawl
Despair beauty
So black is the abyss as thy beauty fall…..

poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Pride Of Africa

I can hear and see clear
I can see the signs of cascading black waterfalls
Drizzling our soil with dazzling beauties
Charming sight to behold like a bouncing breast
Beauty in black
Beauty so unique
And beauty second to none
I can hear and see clear
A beauty best known to the diamond merchants
Not to the lay man who easily pick on street
I can hear and see clear
A sound of beating black drums
And a singing of a dulcet black voice
Coming from gently all the sides
Like cold gentle breezes blowing
from atlantic ocean
So cool and gentle
A black beauty carefully composed in black
Sparking lightenings across the globe
Just a bright-black skin and a green soil
As agents of beauties that brighten the world
It is nature's gifts that can't be changed
Beauties of intelligents
Beauties of creativities
And beauties of cultures
That is black in beauty
A beauty beaming even in the dark
For all to see and to believe
For all to taste and appreciate
That is black beauty
The prides of Africa....

¤NTA! !
(30/july/2012)
11: 41 - 11: 58

poem by Naseeru Taneemu Annuree
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On Gray Eyes

Looke how the russet morne exceeds the night,
How sleekest Jett yields to the di'monds light,
So farr the glory of the gray-bright eye
Out-vyes the black in lovely majesty.
A morning mantl'd with a fleece of gray
Laughs from her brow and shewes a spotlesse day:
This di'mond-like doth not his lustre owe
To borrowed helpe, as black thinges cast a show,
It needs noe day besides itselfe, and can
Make a Cimmeria seeme meridian:
Light sees, tis seen, tis that whereby wee see
When darknesse in the opticke facultie
Is but a single element: then tell
Is not that eye the best wherein doth dwell
More plenteous light? that organ is divine,
And more than eye that is all chrystalline,
All rich of sight: oh that perspicuous glasse
That lets in light, and lets a light forth passe
Tis Lustre's thoroughfare where rayes doe thronge,
A burning glasse that fires the lookers-on.
Black eies sett off coarse beauties which they grace
But as a beard smutch'd on a swarthy face.
Why should the seat of life be dull'd with shade,
Or that be darke for which the day was made?
The learned Pallas, who had witt to choose,
And power to take, did other eyes refuse,
And wore the gray: each country painter blotts
His goddesse eyeballs with two smutty spotts.
Corruption layes on blacke; give me the eye
Whose lustre dazles paynt and poetrie,
That's day unto itselfe; which like the sun
Seemes all one flame. They that his beames will shun
Here dye like flyes: when eyes of every kind
Faint at the sun, at these the sun growes blind,
And skipps behind a cloud, that all may say
The Eye of all the world loves to be gray.

poem by William Strode
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Shades of Grey

Black is the color of the night
Grey is the shadow of you I sight
White is the shirt you wear
Black is your suit I declare

White is the wall you lean against
Grey is our path I sensed
Black is the memory I lost
Black is the road we never crossed

Grey is the prospect of the day
Grey is the taxi driving away
Black is the truth to never find you
Black is everything I can't undo

Black is my room without light
White is my color of hope in spite
Grey is the circle around my heart
Black is the truth like a work of art

© 2011

poem by Kristina Louisa Carr
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Sonnet 132: Thine eyes I love, and they, as pitying me

Thine eyes I love, and they, as pitying me,
Knowing thy heart torment me with disdain,
Have put on black, and loving mourners be,
Looking with pretty ruth upon my pain.
And truly not the morning sun of heaven
Better becomes the grey cheeks of the east,
Nor that full star that ushers in the even
Doth half that glory to the sober west
As those two mourning eyes become thy face.
O, let it then as well beseem thy heart
To mourn for me since mourning doth thee grace,
And suit thy pity like in every part.
Then will I swear beauty herself is black,
And all they foul that thy complexion lack.

poem by William Shakespeare
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Sonnet 91: Stella While Now

Stella, while now by honor's cruel might,
I am from you, light of my life, mis-led,
And that fair you, my Sun, thus overspread
With absence' veil, I live in sorrow's night;

If this dark place yet show like candle light
Some beauty's piece, as amber-color'd head,
Milk hands, rose cheeks, or lips more sweet, more red,
Or seeing jet's black but in blackness bright.

They please, I do confess; they please mine eyes,
But why? Because of you they models be,
Models such be wood globes of glist'ring skies.

Dear, therefore be not jealous over me,
If you hear that they seem my heart to move.
Not them, oh no, but you in them I love.

poem by Philip Sidney
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Not Like Any Other Color

This is no joke
This is no egg-yoke
Black is not like any other color
Black has its unique beauty
Its own charm and splendor
It is the color of the reality
It is the absence of the sun
It is the exile of the moon
Black is the last color
That we will see before crossing the border.

Black can be positive
Or negative
Depending on someone’s perception
Interest or observation
Because of ignorance
And lack of experience
Many neophytes unfortunately use that color
As a scapegoat, as a traitor
Who can stab in the groin or in the back
Charcoal is black, coffee is black.

At times, it may not be apparent
Black is beautiful and different
It is the color of the night
It is the absence of light
It is the last color
That we will see before crossing the border
Where no color exists afterwards
Where there are no sounds, no words
No opinions, no aroma and no prejudice
There live absolute serenity and peace.

poem by Hebert Logerie
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A Single Black Rose

A single Black Rose to turn the tide
A single Black Rose to make one die
A single Black Rose to ensnare the soul
A single Black Rose to widen that hole

A single Black Rose to melt the heart
A single Black Rose to force a start
A single Black Rose to entwine the bodies
A single Black Rose to dictate the deaths of these

A single Black Rose to lie upon her breast
A single Black Rose to stop the tears from soaking his vest
A single Black Rose to mourn this memory
A single Black Rose to become a plot in this cemetery

A single Black Rose to take a life
A single Black Rose to end his strife.

(8/21/2007)

poem by Michael Koelliker
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Color Boxed

Father You've made me black I see.
Black though outside but not inside of me!
Others of colors like nature You've made...
Are locked and color boxed,
Giving each other cold shoulders
And shade!

This can not be the reality You'd want us to have?
Living in limitations with disagreements that don't pass!
What is it that we should do?
What is it?
This is what I ask.
Everyone seems to speak of dreams
Of kicking each other's ass!
And this has been long lasting,
A stagnant task that is so sad!

Father You've made me black I see.
Those without color
Believe they are superior than me!
And those of shades from dark to beige,
Also are mistreated!
Will we ever overcome being color boxed...
To be saved?
Before we are all defeated?

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Black and White and Red

Black and White
And Red I see
Demons they do
Torture me
Black and White
And Red all day
The voices are real
Or so they say
Black and White
And Red abound
I'm lost I call
I'm never found
Black and White
And Red flow out
I scream but you
Don't hear me shout
Black and White
And Red so bright
Exit blood and
Enter light
Black and White
And Red of death
Now I breathe
My final breath

poem by Anonymous Ghurl
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The Color Blue

the color blue is known to do
something strange to you
this time when i say you it is truly the reader
not the one who i love
not the one pure like a dove
the color blue
seems strange in nature just like you
it stimulates dreams without asking anything in return
nor do most dreams it propagates burn
no the color blue is serene
nice and soft like a moisturizing cream
but there is another color
that is not proved by psychology to stimulate dreams
i call it the color black
though the dreams are nightmares they are grouped in the same sack
with dreams akin like brother though more like an evil twin
the color black seems to always win
by bringing out your nightmares and pain
and sometimes your feelings begin to wain
that gives way to apathy
which leads to your becoming a tapestry, a tapestry
of death for this gives way to being dead
because black is everywhere, in every night
anytime there is no light
black is in you and its in me, how is we aren't dead?
in the end the color black has now become like lead
like a poison true nature forgotten we as humans simply say
black symbolizes death for that is the only way
that we console ourselves

poem by David Knox
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My Eyes Remained Wide Open

I wondered
What made
The dark black night
Shine
With so much light
I heard a sound
Moved my eyes
All around
To find her standing
Her body
Draped in a black veil
Her moon like face
Emitting dazzling light
That made the dark night
Bright
Her mesmerizing beauty
Left me gaping
My eyes
Remained wide open
Could not believe
Beauty
Can be so captivating
11-01-2012
34-34-01-12

poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
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Try Painting Something In Two Colors Only

the duality of just red and black

red for luck as the chinese sees it
and black for goodness
(remember good guys wear black
as the americans
put it)

but i do not really believe what the chinese
or the american believes it to be
to the French
in Les Miserables

red is the color of despair
and to us
Filipinos, black is the color of mourning
equate it with despair
when idealism dies
when our ancestors pass away
when we do not think of them anymore

black, death and red,
blood,
and

something thicker than water
darkness, and coldness, and being lost because

'you are drunk and you are standing
on the edge of the roof'

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Cool Black Women

What if BLACK WOMEN Were COOL

Could darken skin in shades like BLACK WOMEN

Maybe enlarge lips and hips the size of BLACK WOMEN

Might even speak in a venacular like BLACK WOMEN

Mimick some of the mannerisms of BLACK WOMEN

Mate and date Black Men, the counterparts of BLACK WOMEN

Adopt and raise Black Babies, like BLACK WOMEN do

poem by Royale ROYALE
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My Women

My black women is black and beautiful
her eyes are black and beautiful
as she smiled and admired her beauty
she's a hard worker full of dreams
she keeps on trying whenever her dreams deems
my black women is black and beautiful

She bears and carries fruits for her fimaly
as she protects and proclaims her love.
look! there she acts and flies like a dove
for she's a carer that cares continously
my black women is black and beauiful

She's a victim of being hurt and raped
although they steal and victimize her virginity
she's a co-creator with God
I love and respect my black women
my black women is black and beautiful.

poem by Aviwe Bezu
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My Black Rose

You’re my Black Rose
I water you every day
I make sure I shine my light on you
I show you more love then any of my other roses that died
You’re the one
My Black Rose
Where would I be without such a beauty
What would I do without my Black Rose
I love my Black Rose
I’ll keep you forever
My Black Rose
I’ll make sure you’ll never die
I’ll make sure
To water you
I’ll make sure
To love you
I’ll make sure
To shine my light on you
My Black Rose

poem by Keith Young
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Beauty, inside and out

I am black
I am beautiful
inside and out

I am black
I am beautiful
my voice is medium toned, I try not to shout

I am black
I am beautiful
I don't let anyone put me down

I am black
I am beautiful
Though sometimes I may act as a clown

I am black
I am beautiful
I'm filled with such pride

I am black
I am beautiful
I'll make such a wonderful bride

Black and Beauty
that describes the outside of me

Nice or mean, you have to decide
To me and most people I am nice inside

I am beautiful, I am black
I am black, I am beautiful

poem by Camacy Melville
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Black And Red

Black and Red
The colours of dead
Black and Red
The colours of my bed.

Black and Red
swirling in my head
Black and Red
Killing my brov Ted.

BLACK AND RED

Black and Red
Colours that spread
Black and Red
The patterned thread.
Black and Red
The voices said

Black and Red
I Iove eating bread
Black and Red
My favourite colours till the end.

poem by Carniz Fatema
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