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Best Racism Poems

Below are the all-time best Racism poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of racism poems written by PoetrySoup members

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New Racism Poems

Don't stop! The most popular and best Racism poems are below this new poems list.

Racism in 2016 by Stewart, sonya
RACISM -- YES OR NO by Grenness , Julie
Geography and Racism by hansen, jan oskar
Outlaw Racism by Graham, Patricia L
WORLD DAY AGAINST RACISM by Trifiatis, Demetrios
NO TO RACISM by Mohammed Sheriff, Dr. Demane
BIG BIG SLAM TO RACISM by Fraser, Olive Eloisa
Racism Persists by Pettit, Robert
Racism Takes You To Karma Hell by davis, robin
Melt away Racism by Zarook, Zamreen

View all new Racism Poems

The Best Racism Poems

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I Can't Breathe

In memory of----

Solely in my room, I can't stomach the sound of my heartbeat.
I sit here alone to forget the taste of air, 
Overwhelmed by the scene -unbelievable footage
18 seconds too long, "I can't breathe."
My judgement is gone, stressing all night long
I use to fear dark colors, now I fear spinning bright lights
Red, White, and Blue,  I spew the NY Police crew
What's wrong with your blue eyes?
You see him, you want to mess with him
What a day to trade  --  a life for illegal cigarettes
Persecution and judgment day, a sweet life taken away
"I can't breathe", executed in broad daylight!

Bullies left and right
What happened to minding our business?
Moneymaking, refusing to be singled out 
A hurting voice tackled by racism 
Free to see, pouring his heavy heart,
Oinker's demand the ground, leaving out his testament
8 times too many, "I can't breathe!"
Where did his vitals go? 
Can someone please pound the pavement!

Stress, anger, madness, the voices of the innocent
"I can't breathe." the volume of Valium
"Officer, did you not hear the man?"
Are you deaf, have you forgotten how to save a life?
Is it just the NYPD or is it every other badge,
Insinuating crime's a one-color show.
We are all criminals, why the excessive heat?
Shot, tasered, beat down, pepper sprayed,  now on the ground
The choke hold of all choke holds, murdered and out numbered 
The echoes remain "I can't breathe!"

- The truth!
Eric Garner robbed of his own natural path and youth
One man down eyed suspiciously 
Perplexed minds suffocating him instantly
The mistrusted, the fear, the hate,  
So tangible, uniforms using deadly force
One asthmatic in a choke hold
Slamming his head on the flooring
Open wounds, worldwide tears

My heart goes to the family and friends left behind
A courageous last breath, for the first and last time
"I can't breathe," now deceased.
You left this world unwilling, waking up a strong community
Strolling in a  better world, where racism don't exist
"I can't breathe,"  Eric Garner Rest in peace!

By: PD


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2014

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One World

Love is not a color,
No hue, neither a race.
All of our blood is the same, 
That runs deep within our veins.

If we could lift up each other,
And know that we all care.
If we help our sisters and brothers,
There's a bond that we'll share.








©2013 Honestly JT


Copyright © Honestly J.T. | Year Posted 2013

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A SLave's Cry

Stranded in this place
I cannot recognize
Abandoned and lonely
No one hears my cries
AS i walk through this wasteland
Of wilderness and desolation
I am consumed with anguish
I walk this road with hesitation
On every turn that i come upon
The is more pain than at the last turn
Agony and torment spews from my pores
With every step i take more pain i earn
Until i am enveloped with grief
Buried alive on my feet
Dirt in my eyes,nose,mouth,and lungs
I throw up my flag of defeat
Each painful blow leaves behind a deep gash
That is constantly reopened never able to heal
Infection has now set into my heart
Slashes and scars on my body reveals the detail
Of the despair embedded deep in my soul
That tells a tale of a soul so lost
A soul wandering through this wilderness
A tale of what being born black cost


Copyright © April Mitchell | Year Posted 2013

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Don't Judge Me for Existing

Why do you give me a hard look from your face?
that you don't like what you see?
that I'm from a different race?

Why can't we see eye to eye?
why do I disgust you,
like you don't wanna be near me
would you please tell me?
tell me why you hate me?

Do you hate me because of the color of my skin?
like I'm a disease?
you don't think I have desires?
that I have needs?

We aren't from the same race,
but by soul,
we live in the same world.
You may think I'm nothing,
just push me into the mud,
knowing we both have the same colored blood.
You can't judge me by my appearance,
or by my race,
or even the color on my face.
Say what you want to say,
you can't judge me,
for I didn't choose to exist in the first place.


Copyright © verlena dillard | Year Posted 2014

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Intolerable

I cannot tolerate the ones with haloed head
Who boast of their achievements, put on an act instead.
I cannot tolerate the perfect, always right
Who claim to love their neighbour omitting black or white.
I cannot tolerate the ones who share your pack
Pretending to be helpful then stab you in the back.
I cannot tolerate the friends who pick your brain
Intent on infiltration determined to make gain.
I cannot tolerate the types who wish you well
They swear to loyal virtue, but then they kiss and tell.
I cannot tolerate the false and double-faced
They are the parasitic, their tongue with poison laced.  
I cannot tolerate the guys who look for fights
They cause much harm while pleading the law to back their rights.
I cannot tolerate the tempters with their faith
They are the instigators, the ones who love to hate.*
They cannot tolerate my face, but I’m alright
My aim is to expose them, oppose with all my might. 


---------------------------------------------------------------------------
* Here I am referring to those who commit crimes and injustices in
   the name of religion.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------

16th June 2014
Contest: Tolerance
Sponsor Freddie Vee






Copyright © Paul Callus | Year Posted 2014

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LET ME BELONG

LET ME BELONG

I walk with the crowd, all alone,
I look at the strained faces of strangers,
the dead emptiness of their eyes,
the weariness of their broken smiles
searching for hope of tomorrow…
I follow…I follow

I have no family, I have no country,
I have no past, I have no present,
only the emptiness of my heart’s memories
of a land, once my home, now ravished by war.
With images of my past left behind…
I cry…I cry

I follow the crowd to promises of lies,
In the passing forms I see silhouettes of pain,
hear the cries of despair, shouts of anger,
I feel the tears of nothingness.
With words of silent prayers of hope…
I pray…I pray

What is my sin to deserve a lesser life,
when all I want is freedom to exist.
What is our sin to be turned away,
when all we want is a place to rest.
What is my sin when all I want…
is to belong…to belong.

May 5th, 2016
T.J Grén


Copyright © Teppo Gren | Year Posted 2016

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Chains of Colonialism

Chains of Colonialism        

With guns they came
With whips and chains
Chains to capture the Dark Continent
Chains snaking across Africa
Africa blessed by nature
Africa a precious jewel
Jewel coveted by imperialists
Jewel stained with blood
Blood of the disenfranchised
Blood of innocents 
Innocents slaughtered
Innocents subjugated
Subjugated like cattle
Subjugated nonentities					
Nonentities to colonial masters			
Nonentities bowing to alien flags 
Flags of oppression
Flags of exploitation and domination
Domination of inferiors
Domination of natural resources
Resources robbed
Resources nurtured with sweat and tears
Tears of those with no voices
Tears of those whipped and silenced
Silenced by superiority
Silenced by weapons and fear
Fear of foreign invaders
Fear of certain death
Death of ancient civilization
Death of treasured culture
Culture stripped and raped
Culture battered and fragmented
Fragmented destiny
Fragmented people 
People crushed to the ground  
People with no more sweet songs
Songs of freedom and happier times 
Songs of nationalism
Nationalism and solidarity 
Nationalism thwarted
Thwarted to divide and conquer
Thwarted to castrate minds and bodies
Bodies chained and beaten 
Bodies killed for defiance
Defiance against injustice 
Defiance against colonialism
Colonialism in the name of God
Colonialism in the name of kings
Kings
God


05-01-2016



Copyright © Pandita Sanchez | Year Posted 2016

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Basketball is for Everybody

Telling blacks not to come to a basketball game. That is such a racist remark and a shame. Making such a comment is an absurdity. In the professional basketball community, African-Americans make up the great majority. Those words said were a public disgrace. Everywhere in any professional sports place, room should be made for any color and race. from a news story found on aol.com


Copyright © Robert Pettit | Year Posted 2014

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POVERTY DEFINES TRUE WEALTH



don't know if human's will ever see every soul born, is right where it's meant to be For the rich to become the richest there has to be a place for the poorest The entire world is built up from the same level of dirt each soul is born without knowledge to cause hurt Humanity teaches us what a human's life is worth, by money and glory I am to believe all lives are priceless, every soul fit's to tell Earth's story The luckiest to be born, is that of a poor man he learn's the treasures, of everything he can Those born into all riches, have no true understanding of richness seeing us not as human's, but those living in poverty as an illness Love start's from the soul, and from there it is taught to grow the rich find another kind of love, one only brought with dough Love, trust, compassion and grace defining the difference in richest and wealth t'is the beggar off the street, who climbs the toughest road to earn his wealth He is the most blessed man, he is rewarded with the most valuable key for his wealth is humanly uncountable, for only God know's the value of he...


Copyright © Denise Hopkins | Year Posted 2013

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The Color of Space

The Color of Space

His spaceship alit on a foreign world
deep in the midst of the outer space
two moons gazing down devoid of all air
he kept his mask on and walked down the plank
opened the  door to retreat from the hull

He was there for a purpose
for diplomacy’s sake
to seek a new race and find a new place
in hopes that they trade
since the earth needed more 
an avatar sought
for the future of lore

The leader approached 
his habiliment WHITE
and his face a pale GREEN 
he exacted his speech
with authority and grace

I promise the cargo that you request
in the time that is due it will be our best 
for our BLUE men work as we command
to produce what you need or they will be replaced 
and another blue man will fill in the space
to satisfy your monthly needs 

He gazed at the workers bedraggled with sweat
their uniforms worn not a word  from their lips
he considered his quest and returned to his ship 

He removed his mask and stared out of the hull
he pondered the planet that he will leave
A million miles from Earth and the stigma remains
he grabbed a BLACK towel and wiped his BROWN face
will  MANS inhumanity to MAN ever change
















Copyright © Ralph Sergi | Year Posted 2014

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Trapped

My spirit and soul are trapped in this vessel of flesh. They scream to escape and to be liberated and soar on the breezes of life. To frolic freely among the trees, among the clouds and to run without weight and care.

My spirit and soul are trapped and they want to get out. Out from under all the stress and demand in life out from all the evil and hate of the world.

My spirit and soul are trapped in demand to perform, to keep a smile when I am down, to keep a stiff upper lip.

My spirit and soul are trapped to work for things and objects, to keep up with Jones and Kardashians. 

My spirit and soul are trapped into believing that all men are made equal when the reality of this world says different, that only green currency is the great equalizer. 

My spirit and soul are trapped into believing that single is not wholeness that it is necessary to be joined with another body to be view without stigma.

My spirit and soul are trapped in a body not acceptable because it's fat, it's woman and it's black and aging.

My spirit and soul are trapped and they are screaming to be free... screaming to reveal all the possibilities of how good life could be if I just didn't give a damn about who thinks what about me.


Copyright © Kellie Thomas | Year Posted 2013

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Notes on Dating a Latino: What You Don't Learn in High School Spanish Class

One. Latino boys like Buffalo Wild Wings. It isn't clear why, but it's definitely emerging as a pattern.

Two. Latino boys are persistent. When he asks to kiss you for the first time, say no. Why? Because you've known him for a matter of weeks and he is not your boyfriend yet. Don't worry... he will continue to ask every week until you say yes.

Three. Latino boys are really good kissers.

Four. Latino boys love their family. His cousins are best friends, so you probably already know several of them. If any of his cousins also like you, you might think this is problematic. Your boyfriend will tell you that it's normal, and it's just because they're jealous, and not to worry about it. You will probably worry about it anyway. Sometimes it's better to let things go.

Five. Latino boys are romantic. He will tell you how he loves you in two languages and struggle to find an apt metaphor which he can pronounce in the English language. Since his English isn't perfect, he uses his hands to compensate when he speaks,  uses a tilt of his head, a shift in his voice; he says most with his eyes, when he isn't speaking at all.

Six. Notice how he lights up when he smiles at you, like the sunrise... remember that the word for smile in Spanish is sonrisa.

Seven. When he offers to teach you the meringue, say yes. When you trip over each other's feet, laugh. When his face moves close to yours... kiss him.

Eight. When your racist father starts talking about socioeconomic classes, remind him that unlike your brother's American friends, your friends are sober. (Well, more sober. Do not bring up tequila. They're not potheads, at least.) Besides, your Spanish teacher is thrilled with your miraculous improvement in spoken Spanish.

Nine. When you go bowling with him and his cousins and he whispers in your ear that people are staring at us, tell him it's just because they're jealous that I have a boyfriend that will dance with me in public.

Ten. "Te amo" is a phrase that sounds prettiest when whispered.


Copyright © Cameron Hartley | Year Posted 2014

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I Have Hidden Super Powers

I don't wear a cape around
My neck, breaking the speed of sound
Or capture bad guys in a web
My powers have never fled
From my heart that's where they stay
Secretly until the day
I see injustice come along
Others are treated so wrong
My super powers become stronger
When I can't take it any longer
Hearing stories of bullying
My special skills kick right in
Set loose, no holding them back
My love alert goes on attack
Not stopping for anything
It won't ease up until I bring
All this hatred to a low
I give one huge final blow
Across the land until there is
No more hate or prejudice
Until then, I'm on alert
Making sure there is no hurt
I will be here till the end
All my powers I will send
Into the hearts of those so weak
Mild mannered, shy and meek
That get pushed around each day
I'll make sure it goes away
This promise will be kept for sure
Any kind of hatred I abhor


Copyright © robin davis | Year Posted 2014

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Skin Deep

Indigo, not black, nor brown
not one or tother, coffee ground

It’s plain and simple, the eye to see
like winter’s bark on maple tree

I’m indigo, in mood and skin,
to be this colour is no sin

So to my friends of red and yellow, 
just chill out, it’s cool to mellow


Copyright © Peter Lewis Holmes | Year Posted 2015

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Hashtag My Life Matters

#MyLifeMatters

My hands are up don't shoot!!

I'm a black man, with feelings and a valued life,
Please, I've done nothing wrong, point the gun the other way.
At my home, it holds the love of my valued wife,
There's no kids, but we talk of having children one day.

Is my tail light busted, was I speeding too fast?
If so I apologize, may not have been paying attention.
So what made you suspicious sir of me through the dash?
Tell me now, in the future I can maybe prevent it.

Don't want to be a statistic, I will soon be forgotten
After my brief CNN mention of me being shot.
Of me being SHOT, dash cam flashing non stop when
The masses see another man dead by the hands of a cop.

My hands are up DON'T SHOOT I didn't kill 9 members
Of a church, I don't even have a weapon to cause hurt.
My hands are up DON'T SHOOT I'm 3 credits away from my degree
Check my I.D. no history of batteries or felonies.

At my home, it holds the love of my valued wife,
There's no kids, but we talk of having children one day.

#MyLifeMatters

Written on 12/7/2015 @ 6:10am EST


Copyright © Mister Write | Year Posted 2015

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To those that say All Lives Matter when we say Black Lives Matter

You say all lives matter
Bringing up all these colors 
Like red, white, orange, and blue
But when a black life is taken, where on Earth are you?
Where's your sympathy and support when the takers of our lives get off Scott-free in court?
Why weren't you at the rally?
Why weren't you at the protest?
You say all lives matter then reveal yourself to be a hypocritical mess.
Why are you more upset at the march of an activist feet
And the words that were in his speech
Than you are at the fact that another black body lies bleeding in the street?
Why don't you demand justice when it's our lives they are taking? 
Why don't you demand truth as the media is muckraking?
Dessiminating misinformation, and sometimes straight up lies, while ensuring we become nothing but criminals in your eyes?
Not husbands, sons, daughters, loved ones, or wives
None of that is left after we've been demonized, had our humanity stripped and been reduced to part crimes. 
Oh but they'll tell the story of the killer, saying he's gentle and wouldn't hurt a fly
When he just might shoot the wings off the black angel if he saw it in the sky?
Why???
To put it simply, he's racist
And that could just be implicit bias
Not always blatant hatred
Either way when he sees the color of my skin my life is no longer as sacred
As a matter of fact the color of it means I'm a threat
And in that moment all training and restraint he forgets
He overreacts 
Our of his own cowardice and fear
Pulls the trigger back and 
BANG
Another one of us is no longer here...
An instance of disregard and violence 
Repeated so much throughout this nation's history
But we won't live in silence in the face of this danger and misery
We've dealt with it since slavery when they put us on the boat
To two years ago
When Eric Garner was choked
You don't care about
The damage, pain, anguish, and tears
Dealt by the oppression and violence we've suffered all these yearsIn fact All Lives matter
You're complicit in these things
You'd say it wasn't true
But when a black life is taken where on Earth are you?
Our here characterizing the entire movement 
By the actions of the outside few
Calling us dangerous, cop killers
When that's not even what we do
We want to be able to exercise our rights freely
We want changes in policy
As well as accountability
Consequences for those who inflict this brutality
But as we do our work to change the system from the outside and within
You act as if we've committed some sort of sin
Saying we don't care about others 
And it's not about race
Never mind the fact that we are killed at a much higher rate
Sharing stories of white people who are brutalized and ask for our repentance
Purposefully leave out the fact that THAT officer got a sentence
Saying "You ignore the taking of others lives. That ain't right"
Rhetorical question
If a white person is brutalized 
Is it ever BECAUSE they're white???
See we go through these things because we are black
And its an understanding or concern about this, that you seem to lack.
Saying all lives matter
To silence our voices on something that matters to US
And through erasure send us to the back of the social justice bus
So I could ask again why
When one of our lives are taken 
From you there's no anger, outrage, our outcry
I won't, I already know
It's because from the start
All Lives matter
Wasn't anything but a lie


Copyright © Alex Roberson | Year Posted 2016

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HOPE

    
HOPE "Hope",a little birdie you, Vanishes mostly in the blue Stop hide and seek with me, One day i" ll catch hold of thee. Make you my best pal, Live life in high morale. Always arrives with glee, For grief of all to flee. Happiness is your patent expression, Always ready with a good suggestion. That doom,despair is temporary, Faith should be your contemporary. No giving up in difficulty, Work on one's feasibility. Every man has his life story, Hardwork ,service brings glory. Only difference is story varies, Scale of odds in their prairies Life's pathway is wavy, Strength makes it all easy Great men have fallen, Umpteenth times life boat sunken. Edison,Lincoln and more, Perseverance led them ashore To none ,you leave a scar, To all you show a star Indifferent to colors of men, Equal treatment you have for them Breath after breath is life, Till last moment one should strive When energy gives in, "Get up", you come in "No giving up is your outcry, COME ON,you have to try" A fraction of your presence, Refuels my uplifting essence. Life is full of adventure, Make it a good venture Positive will is what makes it, Courage,kindness completes it. P.S-Its my favourite poem.This poem was Homefeatured recently. Contest: Hope. Sponsor:Nayda Ivette Negron. 30/04/2016


Copyright © Rizwana Bhurani | Year Posted 2015

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THE DAISY

In my bed.
Winter blahs.
Colorless ground
Icy jaws.

I poke my head
Timidly forth.
I see some green
I feel some warmth.

I stretch my tendrils
Toward the sky.
Spindly spikes
Reaching high.

Slowly my body
Unclenches, unfurls
Displaying a wonder
Color and curls.

I dance in the breeze
In joyous abandon
I bow and I spin
Appearing quite random.

But when I pause
In the sunshine of life
I see the most wondrous
Sight of my life.

Right here, in my bed,
While I flitted, oblivious,
Was done a miracle
Not usually privy us.

For far as I looked
To my left and my right
My front and my back
In day and in night.

Fields of color
Pastel, neon, bright.
All posing and twisting
To find the best light.

I bow to their beauty
They bow back in kind
Diversity fills
My sight and my mind.

Some neighbors are dark
Some shorter, some tall
Some petals reach up
Some bend, swoop and fall.

Some dropped by a bird,
Some planted with love,
But all finding life
From the Source up above.

I'm thankful for color
In every direction.
I'm thankful for difference
Not boring reflection.

Joyful integration.
But more work ahead.
My neighbors and I
Hope to make our bed spread!

So take it from me
The humblest of flower
In difference is strength,
A rainbow has power!

Love is the key;
With light always sow.
And life will be fruitful,
Your kingdom will grow.





2nd place in theme #7 colors, judged  1/28/2016


Copyright © Cindi Rockwell | Year Posted 2015

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TWO BY TWO

Two girls were drowning,
Then one was rescued, the other abandoned grawling,
Two cows were searching for pasture,

Then one was let in, the other sent away in rapture.

Two robbers orchestrated a coup,
Then one was napalmed, the other saved too.
Two women went to a grinding mill,

Then one was served, the other was left in a grill.                

How could I live this tall tale tasty?
To imagine that I would be the next casualty?
Of this monstrous man slayer, Tribalism
Marauding and wrecking every nerve of this pearl
The beloved love that knots every bond of our beautiful motherland.

Arise, let us fight this beast
And begin to feast
In a nation of no tribalism


Copyright © Faith Simotwo | Year Posted 2015

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Weeping Still


Let me tell you a sad story, a true story . . .

     In another time, under the dictatorship of Adolf Hitler and the Nazi
Party, millions deemed undesirable were murdered, including children,
imprisoned in Nazi concentration camps and extermination camps or were
shot, or hanged.  The first exterminations of prisoners took place in the 
month of September, 1941.  Those not killed in the gas chambers died 
of starvation, forced labor, disease, self inflicted death, and medical
experiments.  Prisoners were forced to staff the gas chambers.  After they
were dead the bodies were burned in ovens or tossed into pits like garbage.
They had stripped them of their clothes, stripped them of all dignity.
Piles of shoes, clothing, eyeglasses, suitcases even baby things taken.
Today those things are in museums to honor forever the millions of dead.
Hundreds of Germans staffed the camps but only 12% have been convicted
of war crimes.  Auschwitz was liberated on January 27, 1945 but most of
the population had been evacuated and sent on a death march.  All this,
was in another time.   Hopefully the world has learned from this horrific
time in history.  Black and white pictures of unimaginable scenes are 
witness to what happened during the years 1933 to 1945.  But the scenes
I see on the news seem that the world has not learned the lesson well and
leave me weeping and weeping for those who suffer. 


I saw an image
   of a women with children-
               death their   destiny                

____________________________
July 14, 2016

Narrative with ending Senryu


Submitted to the  contest, Any Poem Written in 2016
sponsor, Laura Loo

Third Place


Copyright © Broken Wings | Year Posted 2016

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ON GUARD

Listen to poem:
 
  
The sidewalk lengthens as I mourn 
a soldier just shot at the National War Memorial —  
a newsflash stole the North from my compass
so when I spot my widowed neighbour   
 
in her familiar trench coat, 
rusty hair curled into a cinnamon bun, 
her slow promenade tilts my world
implausibly back into place.  
 
Safety lies behind those bifocals 
and I finally breathe out the words,   
Terrorism is here, now. 
She shakes her head, says,
 
Dear girl, we should have never
let a single one of them into our country. 
I seal my eyes and hold up my hand
until she finally leaves,
 
lost on my own block, this strange street,
for though I am still a true patriot, 
this is no home of mine
and I doubt it ever was a land of love.  


Copyright © Cyndi MacMillan | Year Posted 2016

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We Belong

The smoke of strong coffee, I inhale 
Looking through the window I see Africans 
Whether black or white 
Like different colored roses, all belong to the same garden 

One said, it is a rainbow nation
Well said but it never be without unity
From east and west, north and south 
They came in with different purposes 

Color defines culture 
Language reflects our origins 
Religions to what we believe but 
Still we all belong to Africa 

Physical pain’s better than emotional 
Words of criticism thrown to one’s thought could pain to death 
Enough about racism, let us unite because 
We belong to Africa



Copyright © Warden Vukeya | Year Posted 2016

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LOVE TRUMPS HATE: A SHORT STORY


	Autumn pulled open the cafe door. The room hummed with conversations.  She bought a bottle of water and immediately took a sip. Determinedly, she scanned the place and half–wished she wouldn’t find him. But when she saw Jim, she straightened her back, took a deep breath and walked to the table where he sat.  He was usually so together, but he’d neither shaved nor combed his hair. 
	“You look like hell,” she said, sitting down across from him.
	“It’s been a bad two days. Why haven’t you answered my emails?”
	“Which one?”
	He leaned forward.  “Any.  Did we break up and you forgot to tell me?”
	“If I dumped you, you’d know.”  
	“What is wrong with you?  PMS?  I lost my job. Don’t you care?”  His face reddened.  
	Jerk.  “I have a few questions about one of your emails.”  She could barely look at him.  “I’d asked you if the fact that the KKK endorsed Trump bothered you, if it disturbed you even a little bit. We’ve only just started dating, so before things get serious, I need to know.   I had to read your answer six times because I couldn’t believe what you’d answered.  You said, ‘So what if the KKK supported Trump.  They are a small insignificant group in this country anyway, only around 5,000 in the whole country.’ That is what your email said, right?”
	He laughed.  “Yeah, sure. Stop looking at me like that!”
	“The thing is, I’d thought about answering that email. I thought about spending time putting into words my complete revulsion.”
	“It’s a fact.  I didn’t make the number up.  There are only 5,000 members.”
	“You’re wrong.  I checked. There could be as many 8,000.”
	“You’re this upset about a stupid number?”  He raked his hands through his hair.  
	“Here are some numbers for you.  There are 900 white supremacist groups across this country.  Some might have only a few members, others several hundred. So let’s say, on average, there's 200 members in each group.”  It was an effort to stay seated, to keep her voice low.  “Which means there could be 180,000 registered members.  Then, there are the others, the ones that don’t want to pay dues.  But they love those white-power sayings. Makes them feel good. Millions of unofficial members.  Haters who don’t carry cards but share the same brainlessness.”
	“Dammit.  I’m not a racist!  You took me out of context!”
	Several heads turned.  A few conversations stopped.  Jim glared at her.
	“Those members have jobs,” she continued.  “They work at banks where they deny mortgages.  They work in hospitals where they can keep pain pills from certain patients.  They work as managers and only hire blue-eyed blonds.  They work as cops and they ... well, we know where that leads, right?”  This easier than she’d thought it would be.  “How many of just those just 5,000 insignificant members work as teachers, target certain students, treat them less than kind?  Think about that, for a moment, what it all means.”  
	“You’re making no sense,” he said.  
	A man in a flat cap sat to the left of them.  He said, “Actually, she makes perfect sense.”
	“Would you mind your own business.”
	The man looked at Autumn.  “Should I mind my own business?”
	She sent him a smile.  “Give me five more minutes, then I’ll let you know, okay?”
	He winked and went back to reading his book.
	“So, do you want to know exactly how many members of the KKK I’d feel confident saying would have no weight on society, are no threat to equality?  Zero.  For me, it would take having not a single white supremacist. Even one KKK member has significance.  Because even one, I repeat ONE ignorant, Nazi loving coward is just one too many.”  She titled her head, starred him down.  “But somehow you think 5,000 is totally acceptable.”
	“It’s no point talking to you,” he said.  “We’re done.”
	“You lost your job.  I figured you had,” she said. Had she underestimated him? He could get violent.  “I ran into your boss this week.  You’ve mentioned how he hires the best.  Ivy League, I think you mentioned. Well, we had a little chat.”  
	“What the hell did you say?!”
	“I told him that I was upset because my mother didn’t want me involved with someone... biracial.  I told him that it was ridiculous in this day and age to judge a person by their colour or ethnicity.  I told him that my mother refused to take into consideration that you work at place where nobody cares if your mother is an African American.”
	“BUT BOTH MY PARENTS ARE WHITE!”  Jim leapt to his feet. “YOU BI —”
	The man in the flat cap stood up.  “Okay.  Those five minutes are up.  How about you go home, Google the word bigot and realize you just been upped by one gutsy lady.”
	Jim clenched his fist.   But when six more people stood up and approached the table, he headed for the door.  She watched as he narrowly missed getting hit by a car.
	Autumn lifted a shaking hand to her face. 
	Mr. Flat Cap gave her a warm look.  “Can I buy you a coffee?  You are someone I’d like to get to know.”  His grin got wider.  “Could take a while, though.  We may have to exchange phone numbers, date for a brief time, get engaged, have children and grow old together.”
	“Can we just start with coffee?” 
	He sat down.  “Absolutely.  Coffee. And that’s where our love story begins.”


The End
	


Copyright © Cyndi MacMillan | Year Posted 2016

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VANILLA NAZIS


                              Most of the world's cocoa is grown in a narrow belt 
                                                     10 degrees either side of the Equator



They fear imported flavours, bold colours,
so they bleach neighbourhoods, sheet 
heads & keep pale nooses close at hand.  

Salt is fine, white enough, but cumin 
threatens.  Baharat mushakalah confuses 
Aryan tongues.  Za’atar, cassia bark,

sumac:  seized, implausibly forbidden. 
Markets fall.  Chili & Chipotle are nowhere 
to be found.  How shocked They will be 

when vanilla disappears, too. 
And behind a bitter wall coffee & chocolate 
plot the sweetest revenge.





Copyright © Cyndi MacMillan | Year Posted 2016

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11-9-2016

11-9-2016

On Election night, twentysixteen
I saw a strange and surreal scene

I looked cross the great harbor at Lady Liberty that night
And I knew right away, something wasn’t right

I saw Lady Liberty and she was crying
Because the America she loved, now was dying

She once welcomed millions to this golden shore
But now they ‘re not welcome here anymore

I thought of Ellis Island, where they once came through the doors
Millions of feet crossing the Great Hall’s floors

They brought their hopes, they brought their dreams 
They brought their plans, they brought their schemes
They brought their laughter, they brought their tears
They brought their hope and they brought their fears

They came with their families or came alone
Some with names, but most unknown

They joined the huddled masses already here
The marginalized, the forgotten, the second-class tier

They joined those that suffered from old Jim Crow
pleading for rights, met with a NO
When they were polite and asked with a Please
They were met with a Noose thrown over the trees

The wretched refuse that made this land great
Yet met with derision, scorn and hate

Many worked hard and were met with success
Their children grew up to be America’s best
Many here now forget where they came
Their immigrant ancestor, can’t remember the name
Can’t remember the ancestor that came here by boat
Can’t remember the issues or the last vote

Our problems are many and someone’s to blame
They did this to us, because they’re not the same
They are the people that caused our pain
Push them out, once again we will gain
Once we were great but that’s in the past
Don’t blame us that it didn’t last

Our country is changing from sea to sea
Too many people not like me
The only way to take it back
Is to go out and stop them,  get on the attack

So he vowed an America, that’s once again great
To get there, he said, America must hate
Hate those others that are not like us
Put them again on the back of the bus
We can bring back the greatness of a past day
All we have to do is chant U-S-A

The lamp beside the golden door
Doesn’t seem so bright anymore


It sounds so simple, but it’s really so Grand
An idea we once used to build this land
E Pluribus Unum, Out of Many, One
An idea that that’s Sinking with the Setting Sun

By John Gordon









Copyright © John Gordon | Year Posted 2016