Best Black Love Poems | Poetry

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Black Love by Magnet, Reggae
Black Love by Yarbrough Quinn, Stephanie
Dirty Black Love by Collins, Darrell
Black Love by McMillan, Keorie
Black Love by Shannon, Amy
Black Love by Mitchell, Latosha
- Black Love - by Smile, Sunshine
WHITE HATE BLACK LOVE by onyango, moses
Black Love by Minardi, Dinda
Black Love by JOHNSON, JAY

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The Best Black Love Poems

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- Black Love -

                                               Morning glory
                                               The body is blunt
                                               Thinking of you
                                               before I awake
                                               Stretching my body
                                               Eyes are closed
                                               Can feel your scent
                                               Gently open my eyes
                                               Feel your aroma                                      
                                               The taste on my lips
                                               As a soft kiss                                       
                                               Your scent fills the room
                                               Thought of you,
                                               makes me awake
                                               You are perfect
                                               Heats my body
                                               Embracing you 
                                               Tasting you ... gently                         
                                               A moment of pleasure
                                               Without cream
                                               Without sugar
                                               Black morning coffee


Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2013

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How Does One Write POETRY

I can imagine : staring in the eyes of : Elizabeth Barret Browning
Seeing the " Glory of LOVE '; bring on the " Sorrow of LOVE "
The sweet outstanding " Black LOVE " of Edgar Allen POE
" Edna St. Vincent Millay " and I Believe in GOD'S Creation

To  sit beside Carrie Richards; Watching POETRY Created
To Live , In the mind of  the Teacher “ Carolyn  Devonshire”
To Understand the Language , as the  Great Master “ Dr. Ram Mehta “
To know ,FOREVER LOVE as the “ SweetHeart” ~ Linda-Marie ~

I have Forever Dreamed: of someday being a POET Laureate
How silly is my mind, when Emotions, have Died Long Ago
Words are Earthly : I can not understand their meaning, “PURPOSE”
If Only the HEART deep with-in the Soul  : could write POETRY
                                 “ I Could “

Copyright © HGarvey Daniel Esquire | Year Posted 2010

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My Black

My black bleeds the same color red
My black breaths the same air
My black causes death instead
Of life.
My black should live loud and free
My black is me. 
My black loves you
My black loves are true.
My black served the same country
My black is set aside
Like last nights trash
Yet I ask, does your color
Mean right, and my black
Mean wrong?
What a sad black song.

Copyright © Sona Wilae | Year Posted 2017

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Is A Verse Free

Is A Verse Free 

In these many hours of contemplating 
a verse that is free 
how it has no rhyme yet has rhythm
is truly beyond me   

How is it written as one does speak?  
When no one ever speaks the same? 

So still no sense it makes and now i write 
this as a troubled mind with a little rhythm 
and a little rhyme 
I cannot tell nor see 

So call it what you want to call it 
name matters not at all to me 
my mind hears no rhythm without rhyme  

Yes make of it what you will 
say what you will say
say this form without the rules  
has rules baffling me everyday    

Copyright © Brenda Chiri | Year Posted 2018

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What is Love

What is love?

Love is just a state of mind,
We enter it as if we’re blind.
Love is death love is life,
Love is trouble love is strife.

Love is something we cannot see,
Yet from love we cannot flee.
Love is the reason for life itself,
Sometimes we leave love on the shelf.

Love is the very air that we breathe,
Love is something that we bequeath.
Love is happy love is sad,
Love can sometimes drive us mad.

Love is seldom easily explained,
Sometimes solid and sometimes strained.
Love is distant love is near,
Sometimes obscure and sometimes clear.

Love is funny love is sad,
Sometimes good and sometimes bad.
Love is simple love is plain,
Sometimes mad and sometimes sane.

Love is black love is white,
Sometimes wrong and sometimes right.
Love is cold love is hot,
Sometimes hidden but not forgot.

What is love?, I hear you ask.
To answer this would be a task.
For just as love is not constrained
Love just cannot be explained.

Copyright © Mike Quinn | Year Posted 2014

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Black Light

Looking back I wonder how we got here
I remember life when
we couldn't get right
every other day was a struggle
communication between
us would crumble
but somehow here we are

It was bad, but we both knew
that it should've been
better than what it was
for some reason in those bad times
it seemed to be more hate than love
but something clicked in both of us
our spirits aligned like the
pyramids on earth & Mars
even in my darkest hour
you light up my world
like a shooting star

we both at a time were lost
a future together seemed far
from our minds
but I look back and see
time was on our side

our relationship was on a
operating table
consumed with misunderstanding
each other which produced stress
we watched it fade away
and fall into cardiac arrest
but somehow we revived it
brought our unconditional love
for each other back to life
stronger than ever
and now I can't even begin
to picture life without you
all those thoughts of doubt left too
we done what seemed to be impossible
at a point and time
where we almost
in a sense flat lined

when I look at you I see new beginnings
I submerged myself in your ocean
and I don't even wanna
think about resurfacing
this is happiness on a new level
we both deserve it
no matter how I word it
my actions will always speak louder
this is what true love should look like
we emulate black love
we illuminate like a black light
our strength epitomizes black power

Copyright © Corey Ross | Year Posted 2015

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Dirty Black Love

Dirty Black Love
Written By: D. Collins 2/19/15
Dirty black love is all that Obama gets.
A regression to oppression from all his hypocrites.
Just know dirty black love will never get to me.
Because, I'm a child of God, no matter what they may see.
I am the man my God intended me to be.
Showing love to those who have hate for me.
What we do in return cannot be discussed.
Just know that dirty black love really bothers us.
What I see on Fox 5, makes me take a second breath.
Knowing how many show signs of being Confederates.
Dirty black love is how it has always been.
But, that doesn't mean we have to bow down to them.

Copyright © Darrell Collins | Year Posted 2015

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Snowy eerie cloud shaped like a flying man,faceless,behind him chunks of success.
In seconds it transmogrify s into a Beautiful Hurricane.

Black color despises the white beginning.
Taking over,black fencely loves freedom that's illusive,as its semi-trapped by white.
So white loved black by hiding light somehow,for it knew black's care would eventually retrogress hearts.

Again black shows love,as it crucifys freedom by introducing justice-in.
White hates a little more by criticizing the suggested color blend of fidelity-in.

To interchange,the painter asks,
"Does white make black look good,or vice versa?"
Poet,"Are they not both colors with a purpose."

Singers sang that song,nothing has changed to date.

By M.O.O aka The color blind human

Copyright © moses onyango | Year Posted 2013

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Law Offices of McHugh and Ludacris

This is Public domain. COPY&WRIGHT 2009
This is pubic disdain.
Give ME a nickel every time you say it.
frankfurters and tin foil are also mine.
black love incense, no that is mine as well.
If I could own a gluttural mouth noise you bet your buns I would slap a 
ringed 'C' on that baby and make you pay me for
saying it. 
I would have you pay like you pay at the pump, baby. 

So, answer this; why don't more arousing socialites do as I say?
March some of those dimes my way!
Fill the golden alms cup, if you will,
so I 
can buy 
more Alcohol!

Copyright © Geoffery McHugh | Year Posted 2009

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Ode to black men from a black woman

Dear Black Man, 

Shout out to your deep waved, shaggy, Afro picking outlines. In honor of the loose fitting jeans with the snap backed, wide hip loving, story telling beats that carry on like the echos of the Congo drums from the motherland. Black Man, I Black woman, am not here today in the name of needing my beauty sanctioned or demanding R-E-S-P-E-C-T from you. I am not angry at you, I am  not angry with myself. I am angry with the systems operation on our children' self worth. Don't ever think I am here to stunt your growth. I am Black woman, whose being is the closest thing to God. Whose body is in conjunction with the earth, boring life, as the birds and bees have come to be. My appreciation for you goes on and on like the munchies of the fiend. Though I will never truly understand all the turmoil this earth brings to your face. We share burdens which are too similar to ignore. I see you, Black man, working hard with no reward. Watching your brothers getting stolen and washed away. I see you scared for your lives, running from the greatness of which your sons and fathers possess . Is it that you don't want to show them the potential that has been taken away from your lips? Black man, I uphold your royalty, you are nothing like they make of you to be. Grab your brother's hand and lift it up in solidarity. I black woman, am dignified to stand by you, and fight through any war in the honor of our people. Black man, I hear you. I feel you. I am black woman, whose name should soothe your worried shaken ambitions. Black man, over time your inventions have been gripped by the European counterparts that fear you so much that they intruded your Black women in plain sight. As deep as the hurts appears to be, You and I are the strongest unit, Black love is one of the most sacred existences that there is. Lets turn away from the road of shame, moving toward the flight to recovering and discovering the greatness of who you are.
A black woman.

Copyright © Amanda Mawu | Year Posted 2017

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im scared
the discovery of self inside of someone else is misunderstood education. im 
not consistent with the principles of a relationship, im not even sure i 
understand the mere foundation. the unbalance of man and woman is known, i 
teach better than i live. the co-existence of kinetic energy on the sphere of 
humanity, the perservation of eden, in the extension of adam and eve in their 
purity. i find the complexity is not always intriguing can be exhausting but i 
love from every sense. touch with my spiritual, feel with my mental, taste with 
emotion, hear with soul interlock all with my physical b/c i dedicate my 
existence to the definition of black love, the recovery of the love movement 
where we lost us. it's me, im full of emotion i rise from 0 to 100 in a - 3 
seconds, i expect submission b/c we're no longer children. i discovered it's too 
much!! he after him always left me at the same space, thinking it was the lack 
of knowledge in self, confidence and pride that dismissed them from my life. 
without him i discovered it was me. 
im scared
im not seeking the answer of why love but why hasn't it trusted me. the insane 
asylum of love, i've committed myself to liberation rehab for those who can't 
discern the mysteries of dedication to our better halves. my reflection is 
painted on a water colored canvas, the colors have drifted becoming a blob of 
mundane rhetoric, i don't care to define. i succumb to the desolation of gray 
tint, until my artist conceives inspiration to paint with me. 
rememberance without memories, a story that's told without solitude b/c i 
forgot my pen to rehearse my serenity. FORGIVE ME!!

Copyright © Al'monique Vaughan | Year Posted 2010

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Aurora Borealis Her Manifest Destiny

Listening unto their Fray's How to Save a Life: you stare politely 
Right on through; and you'll begin wonder, why you came ? Where
Did we go wrong I lost a friend, somewhere along in this bitterness ?
Knowing somehow a smoke-filled glass be it not strange the fiery trials..
Crazy her zoo when their birds catch sight chitter chatter his monkies at play
Greeting another antipodes crowd ? Surreal, they must think ironic, truth's cage
Maximus time's lioness anxious, she awaits; ten thousand years, we gaze; descending
Zion, upon these ranks of tears ? Encroached the valley a carcass sleeps; flesh and blood
His vultures dream in circling skies metallic wings; black love's cloth as her moon so draped....
Borne to be wild their daemons famished of wombs, that weep ? Angels, with open arms they run.

Copyright © Johnny Rhinem | Year Posted 2013

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You asked me to write you a poem and I 
could not. Instead I wrote my heartfelt 
confession... please except this into your 
mind, inject this into your spirit and rest 
peacefully with this black thought of the 
purest black love for it is true. Let it shine 
light upon u in your darkest hours... rest 
with solitude upon my words for my pen 
bleeds a beautiful art of expression for life source an undying promise to 
continue through it all. I can't elude you. 
There is No escaping for your essence is  
everywhere! In every symphony of notes... 
royal like that the color purple crowned 
king. In the light of candles... even within 
it's siloette casting images of us colliding.  
In the darkness of my eyelids stirring the 
potion of memories... in the glow from the 
world outside my window penetrating 
through them, birds singing they're 
praises to Allah and do I give thanks for 
this union. You are in the silence and the 
humility. The salt of tears, trials and and 
tribulations. In smiles YES.. I remember 
you always. The laughter and the pain 
too... who said it would be easy? Certainly 
not with something this taboo. Deep 
breathing and eye contact u pierce my 
soul. Clinched fist as we ignite the room 
we're sexual elements oh the fire we 
make. Complexity... we are divided but 
together... with me when your away...why 
does it hurt but feel so good? What have u 
done to me? Physically fearless but an 
emotional reck.  I'm into u but over you. 
Want but never have... a beautiful 
struggle. Keeps us trying but denying, 
dividing ourselves unto 
ourselves....selfish! Stubborn. Your 
compelling energy causes me to drop 
down to my knees... I aim to please my 
king... forever honored to serve thee, your 
submissive queen or whomever u need 
me to be. You asked me to write a poem 
but I cannot. Instead I give you this 
realization... u are within the deepest parts 
of me never to be removed. And no matter 
where we stand in life, together or apart, 
high or low, with love or anger,  or even 
from the opposite side of the looking 
glass. On earth or perhaps on crescent moon,
I am with u. Just go within these words 
anytime u need to feel loved and then to words come to life.

Copyright © danielle lewis | Year Posted 2014

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The monster sleeps 
Release the kracken 
A ogre from down deep 
Straight from hell 
A parting of the waves 

Destroying all emotions 
With a rage filled hate 
an almighty roar escapes 
Black loveless heart 
parting of our ways 
One look 
from you 

Stone cold ice breaks 
Killing me cruelly 
without thought 
My warm heart bleeds 
The kracken's way 
turning cold loveless 
Making a stone 
of your heart 

Leave it buried 
in the deep 
Like the hounds of hell 
Chained to a bottomless pit 
Locked in the deepest depths 
In the chambers 
of your heart 
Only then 
love will shine freely 

Copyright © liam mcdaid | Year Posted 2013

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Black Love

Black Love

I can't see you

but I know that you're there

Every time I turn around

i can feel your eyes

I don't know when

i don't know how

your love turned into

something wrong


the footsteps I hear

behind me

aren't just in my head

the warnings to stay away

you're not listening 

are you?

I'm afraid to know

what's going on

inside that head of yours

inside that heart of yours

I didn't know that


was a feeling of deep within the heart

I don't know when

I don't know how

your love turned wrong


The shadows outside my window

whispers in the wind

the lights shining in my room at night

the cries on my window sill

the exta pleas and "Please add Me"

on my social networks

and threats to my new friends

and slashes in my tire treads

when I say "no"

I don't know when 

I don't know how

your love turned wrong




black love

Copyright © Amy Shannon | Year Posted 2014

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                                 In my studio in a Sunday night
                                       I asked for her hand
                                      I had no bad intention
                                         I only tied a band
                                    But the band seemed eerie
                                      It was a scorpion tail
                              My single stroke in this weepy night
                                   Ended in death without fail.

Copyright © RAJAT KANTI CHAKRABARTY | Year Posted 2014

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Black Love

It was random, although the night was intentional. You touched my inner being like delicate fine art. The steadiness of your hands gathered my reluctance like a bouquet of white roses and directed it into free submission. It seemed, as if you were fluent in the language of my pulsating heart. My flesh became immortal for a moment in time.  My better judgment went off like a siren but it was much too late, so precise, you were ahead of the game. So, we became in-sync like two beating drums, creating our own tune so passionate, as we reunited two different cultures, two estranged tribes from our origin, near the edge of the sea, of the coast of Mother Africa.

Copyright © Stephanie Yarbrough Quinn | Year Posted 2017

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I am the wind

I am the wind. 
Screaming and shattering – on a constant path of destruction.
Wrecking everything I see or touch but never blowing out, 
Never being quite strong enough to shatter myself. 
You can never see me.
I am quite invisible but don’t mistake me, 
I can destroy you if I wish. 
Ruthless with my actions and careless with my words, 
You should stay inside when I’m around, 
Sheltered from the ferocious element that I am,
That is me. 
I am unforgiving and angry,
Much like the ocean’s beloved waves, 
Never underestimate me. 
You cannot anchor your thoughts away from me, 
Or bolt yourself to the ground, 
I will lift you up until your bones feel like liquid,
Your chattering teeth nought but a distant graveyard of hope,
 Before slamming you down,
The liquid replaced with lead, 
Back to reality
If you’d please just listened, 
Stay tucked up in those amber sheets, 
And you’ll never need to know the mess I will someday make of you, 
Please believe me when I say;
I am the wind. 

Copyright © Terri-Anne Pattenden | Year Posted 2018

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Maybe Spanish

J'apprends le français en ce moment
parce que j'ai l'intention de voyager à Paris.
Je ne parle pas couramment le français.
J'ai découvert Le Lac il y a quelques années.

Par un mariage
Du côté de ma mère,
nous sommes liés à l'écrivain français /
romancier Pascal Lainé.
Dentelle délicate,
une histoire d'Apple.

Je ne fais pas de traductions.
J'écris mes propres poèmes
et des histoires originales en anglais.
Toujours dans mes propres mots,
parfois je me saisis.

Mais ils sont
Les originaux de la vie.
Des images uniques de mon coeur.
Je partage avec des étrangers
mondes à part,
peut-être des étrangers,
peut être pas.

Aujourd'hui j'écris en langage romantique
parce que tout est un peu tradic
ici parfois ...
asseyez-vous avec votre burlesque
les équipes qui écrivent leur danse
histoires dans l'obscurité.

Un peu de lumière
Watt? Eh bien, peu importe
watt peut être trouvé
faire pivoter tous les fissurés
enregistrements autour.

Mes muses parfois
pocher mes mots.
C'est bon par moi.
Une certaine forme de flatterie.
Peut-être chicanery lisse.

Je rebondis de nouveaux concepts à partir de leurs histoires
Jamais derrière,
toujours de l'avant.
Parfois cette violette Lavendar
sentir le nettoyeur de sol,
trop clinique
meilleures roses

Toutes mes histoires sont à moi.
Totalement original.
Cosmos au chocolat
Frangipanis cyclique
Il y a une vraie beauté
Débutant vert
jamais un mot
voleur criminel.
Juste un pécheur maigre

Mon amour de l'écriture
et la lecture est héritée.
"Il y a toujours de la musique dans tes mots -
toucher les cœurs des autres oiseaux
qui a des oreilles pour écouter, et sinon, "
il a dit, "bien les laisser à leur propre mission".

La magie ne s'ouvrira pas
Comme il se doit
si vous êtes seulement ici
juste pour les applaudissements.

Quelque part dans mon sang,
il y a la langue
du vrai roman.
Quelque chose appelé "LOVE".

L'Italie appelle, pas la France.
Paolo Conte chante Romance.
Vive Le France
Piaf la Révolution
Notradame leur Dieu ci-dessus.

Encore une fois, je suis capricieux ...

Peut-être Argentine
où ils se déplacent
les corps se ferment dans
Tango, dur et serré
la danse de la vraie romance
Les étrangers deviennent des amoureux
nuit et tantrique
prend le vol complet.

Les appels d'aventure,
Vivre la vie
Peut-être espagnol.


(Lovejoy-Burton/2018 Jan)

Copyright © Leanne Lovejoy-Burton | Year Posted 2018

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Lonely teardrops gasping for funny valentine he's never there.
 How can you mend a broken heart once it's been broke too many times. 
Realizing love is undependable to the many times a day he makes you cry.
 Crying, suffering, wanting him to funny valentine your supposed to be my man.
 Hoping he changes for all the right reasons, constantly asking yourself am I the only one he's pleasing.
 He always complains when you leave, but when he leaves he's out to creep.
  Why creep, dont you love me, what about us, now he's mad asking me whats the big fuss.
 Now Im flpping the script.
 My funny valentine you make me laugh ill make you cry. Youll never find another love like I.
 Do what you wanna it aint phasing me.
 Cause your where-abouts must have been your wanna-be's. 
Love me , leave me, lie to me, deceive me, do yo thang dont be with me.
 Loved you enough to let you play with my heart.
 My funny valentine I thought you was my guard.
 Another lonely holiday I have to bare.
  Being used to your devious ways it doesn't matter what's fair .
 How can you love someone and bring them so much pain for so long.
 How can you not care how can you be so wrong.
 How many kisses does a drunk man deserve.
 How many kisses does a sober man deserve.
 Who deserves to be left alone.
 Blowing up your lovers phone....ring ring you home.
 But hey enjoy yourself do what you do best...forget about the love of your life...put our relationship to rest.
 My funny valentine do you not know what you've done. You've only made me stronger so dont think you've won. Sweet kisses could lead to fearful revenge.
 Wanting to get back at you isn't worthit, it needs to end. Going back in forth into a ball of fire.
 Geting to know the real you finding out your a liar.
 What is a soul mate , someone you can love, trust, and understand.
 My funny valentine you could've been that man.
 But you wanna play cat and mouse making the love I had for you die.
 Im not hurt..and as far as calling goes i wouldnt even try. Stepping back from the past headed toward the future for good.
 Still hoping you understand only if you would.
 Someone once told me when your in love you dont suppose to hurt.
 But for me I was the only one putting in work.
 My funny valentine if only you knew how good I feel about this.
 Not fantasizing from the touch of your kiss.
 Someone once told me always be with someone who loves you a little bit more than you love them.
 So now Im taking that advise but Im not looking for him.
 My funny valentine you made me laugh you made me cry. You wanted to leave i let you fly.
 I did my part I kept you close.
 Now it's over and Im looking like so....Thank you my funny valentine for the players guide. Love me, leave me, lie to me, deceive me you'll never find another love like I so my gratitude is thanking you for releasing me.

Copyright © SYLVIA WILEY | Year Posted 2018

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I Am Your Shadow

I am your shadow
I don't leave you in the dark
You just cant see me.

Copyright © PJ Gongora | Year Posted 2018

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Priority of Perfection

Perfection was created
to make us feel imperfect,
but imperfect, of course,
is the perfect thing to be.

We spend every hour of every day,
every day of every week,
trying to be different,
trying to be unique.

Our nature is to search
for answers to life's questions,
concepts we don't understand,
like "What is perfection?"

You strive to be "perfect,"
a term you don't understand.
You should be yourself
before it gets out of hand.

Surely happiness is of priority
over a word like "perfection,"
so ask yourself this,
Who looks back in your reflection?

Copyright © Reena Choudhary | Year Posted 2018

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Black History

If I am no longer a slave
Then why am I bounded by these chains?
No longer sweating in those fields
To fuel my master’s wheels
No more chains around my neck and feet
Just mentally within my reach
How far have my people come?
Depends how far my ancestors ran
To get away from that sulking place
We seem to be trapped in these days 

My heroes didn’t get lynched 
For my future to be so dimmed 
My brothers are being executed 
While the evidence to convict are being refuted
Martin Luther King had a dream
That one day all races will be a team
So why are the changes taking so long
Even after Obama came along
They’ll tell you slavery has ended
But in Libya human rights are being suspended 
For a certain ethnic group
You don’t care because it’s not happening to you

So where are my civil rights?
Do you understand why we fight?
Who feels it, knows it
That’s why we decided to show it
All lives matter they say
While black ones are fading away
All we want is repatriation 
From all the insufferable situations
Peace and love for all my people
One love from all the evil

Copyright © Audley Johnson | Year Posted 2018

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There is a Brighter Side

We wandered beside the hills happily
My daughter was very glad to see
Lambs grazing golden grass
A few looking at us
One of them became friends with Emily

The wool in its neck she cuddled fondly
You are, she said, my Goldie
They walked by the green road
Looked on a big eyed toad
From my flask I poured a cup of tea

From nowhere a van turned up speedily
Just in front of Emily and Goldie
Right then a small black cat
Before the van it sat
A huge sound of a brake shattered our glee

The black cat sat in the middle of the road
From the motor van rolled out a brown gourd
The black cat looked at it
As if saying bullshit
It caressed the lamb in a pink mode

Emily was now with two true friends
She watched how a black cat with a lamb blends
They now sat on a mat
The cat snatched at her hat
What seems impossible love transcends

Emily brought home the black cat
In a week's time the saviour grew fat
Needed a nice comrade
Would play with her long braid
When tired would take rest in a basket

A neighbour's brown cat would sometime come
Both would then pass their time handsome
Emily would join them
I would write a poem
Or in delight a Spanish guitar strum

The black cat was by now a friend with all
One day it got injured in a brawl
Visited the kind vet
He pronounced it was dead
Many waves thus rise to suddenly fall

In the garden near the haystack
The cat was buried wrapped in a silken sac
As the spring came to a close
Arrived there a dark black rose
The black cat said, look, I have come back

This way many a black cat delights us
Some we see some in unconscious
Comes and goes the black rose
Life doesn't come to a close
Van Gogh always keeps painting on canvas

January 23, 2018

There is a Bright Side Poetry Contest
Prompt: Picture 2 Aww ... You're not bad luck
Sponsored by: Eve Roper

Copyright © Probir Gupta | Year Posted 2018

Details | Black Love Poem | Create an image from this poem.

A foolish poet

                     A foolish poet

One day i was wandering with empty mind
I smell literature from thousands of mile away
So i am running with no legs 
I want storm to reach
I am deaf
I want thunder to hear
I am blind
I want those oceans of star to see
I am dumb
I want those thousands of Indian languages to speak

O God !
I am brainless scholar
I am inkless writer 
I am a poet ....
A  foolish poet  
i don’t know
why i’m writing......

Copyright © Ashumit kumar | Year Posted 2017