Best Blackness Poems
Terror's blackness engulfs us as we flee.
Knowing not what fate awaits -
you've let go of my hand.
Visual #3
Written 2/18/15 by Andrea Dietrich
For the "In Praise of a Kimo" Poetry contest of nette onclaud
Blackness Engulfs Rare Beauty Whose Soft Heart There Holds
Blackness engulfs rare beauty whose soft heart there holds
she that pretty flowers envy yet still dare to adorn.
Emerging as a rare butterfly from cocoon's deep folds,
her light will grace all and never her heart be torn.
As darkness seeks its wrapping gulf of shrouded gloom,
her beautiful glow breaks upon dawn's sweetest light .
Dark clouds can not give their wretched pain and sad doom,
for her pure soul radiates greater than the darkest night.
Such loveliness shines even in the simplest of her rooms.
Robert J. Lindley, 4-16-2016
Poem Syllable Counter Results
Syllables Per Line: 12 14 14 12 0 12 12 12 14 14
Total # Syllables: 116
Total # Lines: 10 (Including empty lines)
Words with (syllables) counted programmatically:
Total # Words: 88
I told my therapist I had a fall back position That I had saved the pills from my wife's death bed Enough pain killer to bring down an elephant Hiding in the back of Mary's closet Waiting for me if things go Gothic black again My therapist in a calm concerned tone of voice asked me to get rid of them Made me promise to do that as homework and I tried Today the the Firehouse excepted Mary's used and unused needles Then sent me back home with the rest Having brought my attention to these pills has brought them to life in my mind They know my name They have an intimate connection with Mary's pain They have made me remember it all again I will keep them in the trunk of the car tonight And tomorrow they will go to the dump One more shadow of darkness removed One more day of moving beyond the barricade of myself
Blackness…
I’m afraid
I can feel it, so dense
It knows me… it holds me
As it to keep me in suspense
Where am I?
I’m terrified, my throat is dry
I can feel it…
The blackness rubbing against me
It loves me… it wants me
I feel it’s hungry
“Hello?”
“Any body there?”
I can hear some
It’s near, I swear
“OK! The jokes over,”
“It’s not funny any more.”
“You win, I give in,”
“Just open the door”
“Hello?”
“Oh! God”
The screaming
Now I’m really scared
It’s piercing,
Increasing
With every breath
Oh! God make it stop
I’m on my knees
I’m blocking my ears
It gets louder, make it stop please!!!
Uuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!
I’m burning, I’m on fire
I can feel every desire
Amplifying
Agonising
Stabbing me like hot wires
The blackness is biting
Chunks out of me
I cannot stop it. I can’t see it
It consuming my body
I see pictures, of people
I cursed and hate
The wrongs I did
I cannot right, it’s too late.
Uuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!
I’m burning, I’m on fire
I can feel every desire
Amplifying
Agonising
Stabbing me like hot wires
Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!
The Blackness And The Hard Labor Of The Housemaid
Store up the spasms of the low rims of busy suns
trudging work tills the upheaval of ragged soil
and what of shadow hours, sweat and hard toil
does indifferent soil its gasping unholy vomit spill
she folds the clothes and then she falls asleep.
Trudge the hours and crack the unwilling stones
as her shadow walks into bars of uneven ethereal mists
the dark red rouge smears in round about shy patterns
she wonders, where does brown dung of yesterday hide
She slaves as a worker, her tired muscles cramp
her mind drifts and then it accuses her of nothingness
today is for work, tomorrow the mice may play
her work is as ancient days a drifting into noon
she is bent as a scornful indifferent boothill
as she finally stops, yes stops, to dare to go to sleep.
Robert J. Lindley, Verse
June 2nd 1972
Note: My new girlfriend's mother is a housemaid. Works 6 days week about 12 hour a day/
I've crawled to the edge of my own darkness,
and I only wanted a small taste I swear;
And I heard the prophets of the ages screaming,
There's just no coming back from there;
But they were my own unexplained poor choices,
to gaze into the chasm far beyond;
For I had to be illuminated in blackness,
Long before my light could ever shine on.
I danced daily with my own demons,
until the harvest moonlight died;
And I saw the Angels turn their backs on me,
Yes, I swear I heard them cry;
But I think they knew deep down inside,
That I would be back before too long;
They knew I had to be illuminated in blackness,
Long before my light could ever shine on.
There's that little part in every good soul,
that wanders where he should not go;
And a very patient loving God,
just smiles and lets us go;
Until we come crawling back into the light,
And realize it's where we always belonged;
But we must be illuminated in the blackness,
Before our light will ever shine on.
Carl A Fraser
BLACKNESS
No racism, we are all made of black
Like a bacon-eating balaclava-wearing bachelor Jack,
And even if you're white or Caucasian,
Can't run from black hair like typical Asian
Cos of creation we all had our fair share
And even if you're blonde or red at all,
Can't run away from black eyeball,
For sure, our full cup of character will always pour,
Even if you're hazel or blue eyes,
Can't run from black eyebrows or lashes
Even if you're completely shaved or albino,
For a spot or birthmark you can't say no,
Even if you're clean, fresh and pure
There'll always be that identification you can't cure
And can't run from a dark soul or dark side,
Whether saved or unsaved, you confide...
In the phenomenon called life
As if both of you were husband and wife
"You're still made of black" is the said slogan,
Whether circumcised, uncircumcised, Jew or pagan.
But if you evade all these notions
You're certainly of or in a dark world of vexations;
Darkness is always here to stay.
BUT LET YOUR LIGHT DO NOTHING BUT SLAY.
VickWizzy
Vick Manuel Poetry {VMP}
Copyright©2019.
I walked with my blackness
Not on my head like a crown of pride
But like a shackle around my feet
I basked in my down trodden self
Never lifting the true glory of me
I walked with my blackness
Blanketed in my self pity
Not seeing that my fight lies within
Shoulders slumped as I accept defeat
Before the game has even begun
I walked in my blackness
Contented to cower
When I should have stood proud
That my blackness is me
But still it is not
It doesn't define me
It doesn't speak for me
It doesn't even say where I am from
That my ancestors were Kings and Queens
Ruling over all they surveyed
That my forefathers were Inventors
Scholars, Philosophers and Yes! Farmers!
My blackness does not mean
I should be placed in your corner of shame
Labeled: thieves, hoes, n***s, dunce, thugs
And if you try to put me there
I will always get out
I must show there is more to my blackness
than what you see
Then you will come to respect the blackness of me
I walked in my blackness
No longer am I afraid
I accept now your challenges
And allay your fears
So when you see me walking
in your neighbourhood
Instead of your guns
your hands will wave “Hi” at me
Be black, be proud, let the world come to see
That there is more to my blackness
Than the age old perception of me!
When blackness turns into light
Society could not deny
what we saw
with our own two eyes.
We saw blackness
turn into light
soulful stars
illuminating
white nights.
Jackie was a pioneer
his love lifted us
higher and higher
his black voice
shining bright in
the white night
his acceptance there
was no denying.
James Brown led the way
when there still
was segregation
blacks and whites
in Baptist churches
but in separate
congregations
His voice was strong
his blackness shone
his body contorted
in rhythmic gyrations
his voice was heard
when people listened
and saw as useful
this racial integration.
His strength and stamina
on the stage
and his voice made you
want to get up and dance
those who saw him
knew that maybe
racial unity had a chance.
Then came Marvin
yes that Marvin Gaye
he blazed a new trail
a new way of thinking
never encountered before,
music with a social conscience
that stirred a whole nation
to even question the war.
Then there was Sly and his
band mates the Family Stone
they were unique and special
mixing races together musically
but they were all alone
Then came Stevie
yes he was a wonder
his talent as a musician
there was simply no doubt,
his music resounded
a message of peace and
harmony was what it
was about.
Then came Michael
and Prince at the
very same time
two forces of black nature
twisting and turning their
blackness into light.
Music of healing the world
and the crying of doves
transfixed hateful gazes
into havens of love.
And don't forget
Luther Vandross and
Teddy Pendergrass too,
their songs of love
helped conceive a
million children or two.
If you never lived
at a time like I did,
growing up with
Soul music's beginnings
it would be like being a
football player who
never experienced
winning.
Now they're mostly all gone
but their music still lives on
we were witnesses
to the legends
in the making.
Now the message carries on
hope is never really gone
it's still there
for the taking.
John Derek Hamilton
April 25,2016
The Blackness
From the time of the beginning
A blackness there has been
And though he sits there grinning
He can’t be touched or seen
A taste he’ll place upon your tongue
Sweet words he’ll whisper in your ear
And even though you know it’s wrong
You’ll sink before his scent in fear
He’s everywhere and nowhere
His art is finely tuned
He’ll choose his prey with utmost care
And then the prey is doomed
In the shadows he’ll be waiting
Temptation in his hand
A picture he’ll be painting
In the minds of the damned
He’s practise in his winning ways
He binds you in his spell
And then the soul of he who plays
Is on the road to hell
His aim, an army is to gather
Of bandits, tykes and ghouls
Wild eyed and whetted lips a lather
To reign on witless fools
And a message he sends out
Upon the slightest breeze
To those so full of doubt
That light nor dark can’t please
To the hunted, he says hide
For the hunter he has freed
Feel the hunter at your side
To fulfil his darkest need
"I see a line of cars and they're all painted black
With flowers and my love both never to come back"
from Rolling Stones' Paint it Black
You’ve
died and
gone away.
Your soul has fled!
Abiding blackness
now seeps into my head.
The bright hues all around me
I simply cannot comprehend.
How sickening is the blue of sky
and the vivid green of trees hovering
around the ground beneath which you now lie!
Let their leaves turn black, and let that sky
turn overcast. How can sun shine?
Pretty flowers red and blue -
I want to see them die.
Blackness now is mine,
for in this world
no longer
is there
You.
Written 11/14/2015
Aug. 23, 2021 for Chantelle Anne Cooke's The Color Black Poetry Contest
What is Blackness?
Is it the colour of my skin that represents my mentallity?
Is it the colour of the crown on my head that shows where I reign?
Is it the depth of my soul's missary?
Is it in the contrast indicating my sanity?
Is it in it length indicating my religion?
Because...
It is the colour of the black whole I veiw from, absorbing all I've seen
It is the colour of my shoes indicating where I've been
It is the colour of death drawing me to live
Drawing stregnth from its nothingness compelling me to give
Up suffercating air that makes it hard to breathe
'Cause it the pure symbol of evel but in only God I beieve
'Cause it is the colour of the dreded hair locking brain in a weave.
watch as one controls the other
but never see when they are apart
dark cannot be without light
just as light cannot be without dark
stop yourself from trying to separate them
for none shall stop the balance it holds
be here to watch the sun rise
be here to watch it set
when the moon has risen
watch it rise and fall as fast
watch the darkness in it blackness
be more evil than one wants to know
watch the light it its white bliss
exist only as purest joy,
fall down to where
they seem forever
but slowly watch
as the balance mends
mends the wounds
of all wars.
see all this trouble
be defeated
by the continuous battle
of light and dark
I dont subcribe to the keep it real principles that got us calling effed up situations
all good
Neither do I allign myself with the masses of black upper classes that think
whatever they think is how we all should
See I simultaneously support your right to protest our women being portrayed as
sex objects
while defending the right the portrayer has to have his views expressed
and why we so mad at one segment of the entertainment industry
as if it was the origin of this country's violent history
lets go back
and examine some facts
When I was in school I thought Ice-t was dope,but Al Pacino made me want to
sale it
I loved when Ice cube said nigga,but Richard Pryor made me want to yell it
speaking of the so called N word
lol don't that sound absurd
I guess if we dont say it we wont feel it
N.A.A.C.P burried it but they didnt kill it
wait here is some more ignorance we say
if you replace the er with a it will be o.k
I think its ironic that nigga means ignorant
because depending on the color of the person who says it you will risk a jail
sentence
now I am not ignorant to the history of this six letter combination
but I do see the hypocracy in some of our agitation
how many so called proud blacks
was as adamant about protesting that word way back
when it meant the dogs was on you or the noose was promised
most of them were more like the stereotype of uncle thomas
but now its pc to say you disagree
when there is no threat of brutality
you got your signs protest ect
looking to make the community better
to be continue
I was drenched in black water,
Yet, it looked as though I were dried out.
I stood before a lighthouse,
Yet, remained unseen.
Gazing into the sea’s blackness,
The highest tides forever circled me.
My eyes could find no anchor,
As my dark hands sailed towards the farthest shore.
My home, too, was cloaked in shadow;
Something unseen, yet present, walked with me there.
The map and the wanderer within me never agreed.
Colours were but drifting sailors in my life’s vast sea.
Different souls sail different paths,
Tides come and go.
Memoirs float like driftwood.
Something vast yet fragile appears near the stones.
My grave is smaller than the stones,
Its epitaph; empty and black.
I performed on countless beaches,
Yet, nothing remains visible on this blackest shore.