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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Half my father
Half my father
Half my mother
My mother white as a ghost
My father black as coal
In my face the mixture glows
My skin is white
Still I am a black man
By the make of my nose
My hair is curly
My eyes are gray
Within me both if them lives
My mother’s race
Did enslave
My father’s race
Was never paid.
Still within I bare the two
Am O the new American?
My father is white
My mother is Korean
They met during the war
And I was born
Their only son
By my tone of skin
And by my eyes
You can tell
That there is a divide
And by my blonde hair
It is there for you to spy
Am I the new American?
My mother is German
My father polish
I learned three languages
As I grew older
Both of them
Did love me well
And of each country did tell
That I could draw
From each well
Am I the new American?
My father is Chinese
My mother Spanish
Both crossed over the Rio Grand
I am in the make of my father
But I have my mother’s brown skin
Am I the new American?
poem by David E. Patton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bolton
Black skin,
Black eye,
Black hair,
Black lips,
Black tail! !
A small one,
A long one,
With the blue of the sky and,
The green of the grass!
And within time and patience,
And like the elephants at the seaside;
But, Bolton is here to teach you.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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African American Beauty
Brown skin, black hair, brown eyes, and sweet personality.
That is my culture.
My culture is about the beauty of black women
who are not afraid to show their curves
and express their beauty in the most sexiest way.
We come in all shapes and sizes.
Small, curvaceous,
voluptuous, and more to love.
From that neck bone to that chicken bone,
we are African American beauty.
We invented the big booties and big breasts.
Nice think healthy hair, some nicely wrapped.
We are truly a God sent creation.
Extremely talented to bless people across the country.
We have made ways for so many people.
Step by step
Minute by minute
Day by day
We continue to show people that we are a serious culture
Love to play n have fun
But knows when to stop to take life
And grab it by the horns.
Being strong and not intimidated
Holding on to what we know is right
Being of the minority
When it comes to
Sex
Drugs
Murder
Being of the majority
When it come to
SUCCESS!
What more can I say
We are truly what we say we are
African American Beauty.
poem by Carrie Suter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Zebra Child
I’m not black
I’m not white
I’m a Zebra Child.
My father skin is fare like a pinkish cloud.
My mother skin is dark like coco.
My skin is both swirled into a light caramel color.
I’m not black
I’m not white
I’m a Zebra Child.
My eyes are hazel with a hint of blue.
My hair is kinky yet manageable.
While I have African hips
I also have European lips.
I’m not black
I’m not white
I’m a Zebra Child.
I relish my difference
Although some times
I envy others similarity.
But I am what I am.
I’m not black
I’m not white
I’m a Zebra Child.
Black Woman
black woman
woman black
sing to me
sing to me
like Roberta Flack
tell me your longing
say you'll be there
tell it like honey
your cool moist breath
black woman
black as the cat
who strives in the night
sleek as the bird
daring in flight
black as the land
in which you were born
and bleak the day
from that earth
you were torn
black angel
black eyes aware
ebony skin
natural hair
black woman
woman black
love me forever
love me now
don't hold back
poem by Martin A. Ramos
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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White Skin Black Heart
Yeah, whatcha gonna do now, now that you started?
Whatcha gonna do now, now that its done?
The words got out there, they float around and are coming right back down.
You gonna leave us lying here
Dealing with the consequences of a bad sound
Of a bad sound.
White skin black heart
White skin black heart
Whatcha gonna do now, that its spoken?
These words of a habit, have not faded away.
.................... it clear, conscious gets opened like a wound.
If you cant concieve a better line and better times,
Then let silence bury you, in the end.
When you feel it, when you feel it
Youre condemned.
You see, youve lost your strangle on the freedom road! you
Think ........................of something a long time ago! you
[spewed it out you were so] insecure! it was like ............. on
The toilet floor! youre a [nine seat] drunk, ............... and
You say you want something, .......... you heard the rednecks
Roaring for blood and then they wanted more! life was so small, you
Couldnt get enough. you made a start.
White skin black heart
Dripping,
White skin black heart
White skin black heart
White skin black heart
White skin black heart
Drag your eyes from [aurora] black heart!
White skin black heart
Drag your leg, get outta here [my sight]!
White skin black heart
White skin black heart
White skin black heart
White skin black heart
You didnt have to start
White skin black heart
White skin black heart
song performed by by Midnight Oil
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Black is color of my true love's hair
So many songs have been written about my love.
The beautiful color of my true love's hair. The hair of a powerful beauty.
Black as a wormhole or as simple as a crayon.
Made of ions, electrons and protons, my love must have created all things
for her hair supports everything.
From the planets, moons, suns, constellations and universes. My true love has no prejudice or hatred for any one being instead love for all she creates.
Her face lights up planets and her waters house life while her skin supports all walking creatures and four legged enigmas.
Her eyes are stars gazers while her smiles are super novas
and her beautiful black hair is simply the dark matter in space.
poem by Josephe Buchanan
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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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black RESPECT
Black shoes,
black suits,
black sandals
black you,
black specs,
black life,
black faces,
black casket dropped deep the dark grave,
Red ribbons,
red lights,
red flowers,
red wine.
Hearse sirens
wailing women,
Black speeches,
Blackened praises, all in all they call it the last respect
poem by Joub kahuria
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My Mothers Hair
One of your hairs fell out last night:
A piece of your life was gone without a sound.
I know a difficult day is coming,
My heart, pierced, utters a quiet cry.
Let my childhood smile again in the sun
And turn me into an innocent little head louse
So I can crawl through the jungle of your hair
And sing a song of darkness in its fragrance.
Under your fingernail-roof Ill sleep in my house;
In my black dream Ill water your black trees.
Ill pick black fruits, and hair-jungle bees
Will bring me black poems to be opened.
How will I live, without your hair?
How will I breathe, without its fragrance?
How will I survive, when I am discovered
By ghosts of wooden combs combing your hair?
Let me wear shows made of dawn-flowers
And crawl without a sound into your sleep.
Ill take the place of the hair that's gone
And sing of hair-clouds flying from night to day.
poem by Ovwigho Joseph Ovedje
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Witches' Glen - An Auld Tale
Gather aroon the ingle nuek
For ae eerie tale I'll tell -
'Boot a glen whar a witchy spook
Cast folk in her terrible spell.
Her hair sae black, her eyes sae green
Black Meg she was the devil's queen.
Warlocks an witches dance at night
When the full-moon turns its ken!
Thunder rides on a bolt of light
The deil's in the witches' glen!
Her hair sae black, her eyes sae green
Black Meg she was the devil's queen.
Auld trees hang o'er the twisted wynd
An' blot oot the licht o' day;
An there, there's staring eyes tae find
A stranger wha's lost their way.
Her hair sae black, her eyes sae green
Black Meg she was the devil's queen.
Frae Grennan wood she hailed an flew
A flash thru the black night wind
Come witchin hour everyin knew
She'd get a' the folks wha sinned.
Her hair sae black, her eyes sae green
Black Meg she was the devil's queen.
They burned her on Kirkmaiden hill
An' they bound her on a stake:
She chanted spells that made 'em ill
An' they pray'd for Jesus' sake.
Her hair sae black, her eyes sae green
Black Meg she was the devil's queen.
When ere ye walk the witches' glen,
Whar branches stretch oot like hands
Tak' Bible, cross an' say, Amen!
An' heed the guid Lord's commands.
Her hair sae black, her eyes sae green
Black Meg she's still there tae be seen.
poem by Patrick Scott Hogg
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Ebony Princess
Her hair was as black as the calm of the night
And was as black and as dark as I could see
Her body slowly moved like a bird in flight
I saw her, and I was overwhelmed by her beauty.
Her eyes they shined like a full moon glistened
And her smile was that of a new day sun
My soul before her was locked away in prison
And releasing that key, it had already begun.
Her skin was as soft as the finest silk
And her lips they tempted me with their mystery
Her teeth they sparkled and was white as milk
And her skin, was the color of ebony.
I looked at her and then my look became a stare
She became my muse and also my destiny
Her skin was dark and black was her hair
Then she whispered in my ear, "Don't forget me".
"Don't Forget me", she whispered those words to me
And like a raven with secrets she went away
With her skin so soft and the color of ebony
I pray again that we would meet again one day.
Her name forever is locked inside of my heart
And it will be lost, until to God her name I will confess
Until then if any man asks me who was the beauty of my art
My answer will be, my sweet and beautiful ebony princess.
RANDY L. McCLAVE
poem by Randy McClave
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~Reconciliation~
A black woman migrates to Europe
War devastated Germany in she finds a tolerant white widower to cope
Years some later a mulatto is born with arrear
Unluckily the newborn not so towards white but usual spirally knotted hair
She grows up and gets because of her white father´s repute a government job
Ego came out spontaneous in black aggression as corn on the cob
Her work by job agency comes mostly foreigners for demonstrations
Majority a jobless black immigrant who has not the lucky touch of Midas parentage in confrontations
She looks of blacks down and she herself is black
When asked to justify says she is more white hidden traits back
She repeats her satisfaction from day to day
Until she went to a white german barber for hair trim and foam some day
Your hair is another says the white old barber woman
I have no experience and i cut not those hairs as talisman
Go to a black barber she added
They understand more your hair as they the same headed
God's Sense Of Humor
And God created man!
Yellow, black and white men
They all love each other?
Yellow men in Asia
Black men in Africa
White men in Europe
All color of men in America
They all love each other?
And God created woman!
Yellow, black and white women
They all love each other?
Yellow women in Asia
Black women in Africa
White women in Europe
All color of women in America
They all love each other?
And God created man and woman!
Yellow, black and white men and women
All living together in a love, hate relationship
All living together in America
With rainbow colored children
Black and white children
Yellow and black children
Who just love to be a free American?
For Drew and Allan
poem by Doris Dzameshie
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black as night, Elvyra
Watch out they'll say,
she'll come and get you,
black as night Elvyra,
will take your soul,
leaving you with nothing,
you'll never see another,
as dark and souless as her,
you wait and see,
i know what they'll say of me,
black as night Elvyra
They'll say she dances,
with the devil,
that she plays with fire,
that black as nite Elvyra,
you wait and see,
i know what they'll say of me,
Black as night Elvyra
look at her they'll say,
how dark with doom and gloom,
black as night elvyra,
look at her face,
pale as pale,
her black lips,
her black eyes too,
you wait and see,
i know what they'll say of me,
Black as night Elvyra
skinny and pale they'll say,
with raven black hair to opose,
Black as night Elvyra,
she knows your secrets,
whispers from your depths,
watch out for me,
you wait and see,
I'm Black as night Elvyra
poem by Jess Terry
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Dark Little Goth Girl
Dark Little Goth Girl
What have you become?
You used to be so strong
But now you get pushed around
Dark Little Goth Girl
Why do you cry so much when you're alone?
You used to like the darkness so much when you were at home
Dark Little Goth Girl
Why did you fall in love?
You used to be so beautiful with your hair black as night
But now look at it- brown in the shadows and red in the daylight
Dark Little Goth Girl
Why don't you wear black anymore?
You used to look so marble with your skin so pale
I can't look at what you call color now
Dark Little Goth Girl
Where did you go?
Now i can't stand this girl who's going to all your shows
Dark Little Goth Girl
Please come back
I don't like this girl with glitter on her bag
Dark Little Goth Girl
poem by Shaughnessy Turner
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Great Sin Of Prejudice Against Color
Children,
who made your skin white?
Was it not God?
Who made mine black?
Was it not the same God?
Am I to blame, therefore,
because my skin is black?
Does it not cast a reproach
on our Maker
to despise a part of His children,
because He has been pleased
to give them a black skin?
Indeed, children, it does;
and your teachers ought to tell you so,
and root up, if possible,
the great sin of prejudice
against color from your minds.
While Sabbath School Teachers
know of this great sin,
and not only do not teach
their pupils that it is a sin,
but too often indulge in it themselves,
can they expect God
to bless them or the children?
Does not God love colored children
as well as white children?
And did not the same Savior
die to save the one as well as the other?
If so,
white children must know
that if they go to Heaven,
they must go there
without their prejudice against color,
for in Heaven
black and white
are one in the love of Jesus.
Now children,
remember what Sojourner Truth has told you,
and thus get rid of your prejudice,
and learn to love colored children
that you may be
all the children of your Father
who is in Heaven.
poem by Sojourner Truth
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Random Thoughts
i
i YET have to
see a little black girl
wishing that
she is white.
ii
that little brown girl
over there
sitting in one of the
dark corners of her own
messy tropical world
wish that her skin
is white her hair blond
her parents
either British or
American
iii
i wish that kids
shall remain as kids forever
not minding
the color of the skin
when they become
full blown
adults.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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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