A World of Diversity
The world is a spicy pot of diverse races
that exhibits colours pleasant on different faces.
Each race revealing features distinct and unique
of varying hair texture but uniform physique.
Oh yes, you know undoubtedly that I am black.
But still my black heritage does not prestige lack
because my black beauty is revealed in the dark.
Oh yes, you all know that I am Caucasian white,
with my magnificent ocean blue eyes for sight.
I am blonde, brunette and red haired with fair skin light.
Oh yes, you know that I am oriental yellow,
having traits distinct that nature itself did bestow.
We look alike but vary from fellow to fellow.
Oh yes, you know I'm middle-eastern or Indian brown.
I adore my skin tanned and hair black as a crown.
I have a pleasant heritage of Asian renown.
poem by Joseph C Ogbonna (9 May 2022)
Submitted by Joseph C Ogbonna
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Related quotes
If Roses Can Be
If roses can be
yellow
pink
red
white
And still be roses
If hair can be
red
blonde
brunette
black
And still be hair
If eyes can be
green
blue
brown
hazel
And still be eyes
Then why can't humans be
black
white
hispanic
asian
And still be accepted?
Why can't people be
special
different
unique
original
And still be people?
If roses can be
yellow
pink
red
white
And still be roses.....
poem by Jennifer Hall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Have hues a role?
Grass lends beauty to ‘green’;
Tooth lends beauty to ‘white’;
Sky lends beauty to ‘blue’.
So do lips to ‘red’.
Red lips excel red blood;
Brown horse excel brown ass;
Yellow gold excels yellow brass.
So does black hair, black skin.
Black hair yields to white hair;
Green meadow yields to gray one.
Brown curls yield to fallen leaves
So does tender skin to one wrinkled.
The stuff rules; the merit rules;
The young rules. Have hues a role?
13.03.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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.
Colors
There was a black man
There was a blue man
They hated each other
For the color of the skin
They both believed the other
To be the offspring of some great sin...
One dark day
They got into a helluva fight
Each believing to be in the right
They beat upon each other
Through and through
They beat each other black and blue,
Until finally
They both did come to see
How much alike
They'd come to be.
Now there is a black man
There is a blue man
Together they stand
Once divided by the color of the skin
Never more shall they
Be blinded that way again...
Black or white
Yellow or red
The color of the skin
Is truly all inside the head,
And the colors in the head
Come out in the words
That are said,
And the words
That are said
Can leave the heart so alive,
Or, utterly dead.
It's a choice to make:
Either for the image of the soul
Or, for the color of the skins sake;
The darkness of night
Or, the beauty from
The colors of the
Light.
poem by Smoky Hoss
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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The Joining
Three different women - three different cases
All gave birth to satin and laces.
One black, one oriental, one white
What they had in common was they all
Gave birth the same night.
The BLACK child was six pounds three
Brown eyes and as beautiful as can be.
The ORIENTAL child was five pounds nine
Jet black hair and looking fine.
The WHITE child was eight pounds three
Blue eyes, blond hair, skin fair.
All confined to the same ward and about five feet apart
All loving mothers with the kindest of hearts.
They all talked for hours on end
And made a pact that they would remain friends.
To their surprise they all lived close by.
Every weekend their families would get together
And it seemed that life couldn't get better.
And every year on the girls birthday
They'd get together to celebrate.
NOW! The point that I want you to see
Is if they could do it, WHY can't we?
Why can't all nations put aside their bigotry and hate
And join together to celebrate, just what GOD has given
And make this life on earth worth living.
poem by Louis Rams
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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
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He calls me Honky.
My friend’s as black as ebony
and he delights in teasing me.
He says I am the coloured man
I can’t deny it no one can.
My hair is blond my eyes are blue.
His words are obviously true,
My facial skin is pink and white.
to anyone with normal sight
His eyes, his hair and skin are black
I cannot counter his attack
But he’s my mate so I don’t care
His banter isn’t hard to bear
We’re much the same bar for our skin.
What matters most must lie within.
Monday,16 November 2009
Http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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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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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
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Degradation of a race
Black hair, black skin, black eyes,
Square face, square teeth, square chin,
Fleshy breasts, fleshy back and fleshy lips
Are features of Dravidian descendents.
Pale hair, pale skin, pale eyes,
Long face, long teeth, long nose,
Thin chest, thin locks and thin lips
Are features of Aryan descendents.
The former is flesh eating, lustful,
Emotion ridden and industrious.
The latter is grass-eating, lust tamed,
Manoeuvring and goal conscious.
Siva, Parvathi, Kali with Asuras
Are portrayed with Dravidian features.
Rama, Krishna, Lakshmi, Sarasvathi
With devas are of Aryan features.
All Itikas, Puranas and Epics depict thus.
They are held as holy scriptures
By both the races alike.
08.10.2000, Paralkemundi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Manami
I am Sorry. I am sorry those are the only words I can put to effort I am sorry I was not there to tell you good night, I am sorry that I wasn't there for your recitals. I am sorry I was not there to brush your hair, or get you ready for prom, I am sorry that I was not at you graduation that balmy June day. I am sorry that I was not at your wedding, to your dark haired handsome husband now that I look back and wish I could brush your blonde hair or to see your smiling face but, only in my dreams no more will I see the face of my young. I am sorry that I am your mother and for not being there when you need me the most so forgive me my sweet brown eyed blonde hair and with light tanned skin. Manami. I am Sorry.
poem by Raine Uchiha
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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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Supremacy is the beauty
Chubby lips, plump cheeks, massive breasts, fleshy buttocks,
Blunt nose, hairy skin, coarse hair and black eyes
Are the features the Dravidians inherited from the Negros.
Thin lips, flat cheeks, rounded breasts, slated buttocks,
Long nose, pale skin, silky hair and brown eyes
Are the features Aryan inherited from the White race.
Aryans are held beautiful by their cultural supremacy.
30.11.2000, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Black And Blue
Cold empty bed...springs hurt my head
Feels like ole ned...wished i was dead
What did i do...to be so black and blue
Even the mouse...ran from my house
They laugh at you...and all that you do
What did i do...to be so black and blue
I'm white...inside...but, that don't help my case
That's life...can't hide...what is in my face
How would it end...ain't got a friend
My only sin...is in my skin
What did i do...to be so black and blue
(instrumental break)
How would it end...i ain't got a friend
My only sin...is in my skin
What did i do...to be so black and blue
song performed by by Louis Armstrong
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Be You Bold brothers
Be you bold brothers
You of the dark black skin
Be you bold brother
You of the blue black skin
Be you bold brother
You of the high yellow skin
Be you bounteous bound to be a black brother
You of the dirty red skin.
poem by David E. Patton
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My Second Soul
When we look around
Everyone always says,
Is she your sister?
But what’s funny
Is that we don’t look anything alike
She has black hair, I have brown
She has dark eyes, I have hazel-blue
She has olive skin, I have light
When she wears a dress, I wear shorts
When her face shows exactly what she’s thinking,
Mine doesn’t show my thoughts at all
And yet here we are
With everyone saying
Is she your sister?
But what’s funny
Is that we don’t act anything alike
When she is friendly,
I stay back and don’t say anything
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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I Like Being Brown
I like being brown
Caramel with red undertones
I love my thick lips and wide nose
I can create kinky masterpieces from my locks
And yes my round hips can be seen for blocks and blocks
These things are part of my culture you see-traits, characteristics
Yet they don't define me
They don't tell you that I don't like to fly
And am sometimes afraid of the dark
You can't tell by them that on Saturdays
I take my son to the park
My intelligence cannot be seen in the color of my skin
The thickness of my lips does not tell you what kind of person I am
You may assume from my kinky locks that I am a certain 'type'
But only by knowing my heart, can your predictions be right
See whether you are red or tan, white, yellow or brown
With curly or straight hair, eyes slanted or round
Be proud to show love for your culture and your heritage
And celebrate your fellow man as he shows pride in his
poem by Tamika Stubblefield
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