Best Dubois Poems
Land of the free
Home of the slaves
The blood, sweat and tears of my ancestors resonate
Amongst the soil where they were slain
I’m hearing their struggle
I’m feeling their pain
I can’t imagine being forced to part from my family
All for massa’s gain
So I pay homage to those who promoted change
People like every slave who tried to escape
Nat Turner, Ms Carlotta, Harriet Tubman
And the safe houses who were in accord
And peg leg Joe with his song
Follow the drinking gourd.
People like, the disregarded - those thrown overboard
And who was dismissed and defamed
The ones who were stripped of their soul, their pride, their names
The list could go on
The full will never be told
So I pay homage to others who were bold
Like John Brown, The Freedom Riders, Sojourner Truth
Ida B Wells, Phyllis Wheatley, Maya Angelou,
Langston Hughes and Charles Drew
George Washington Carver, Ruby Bridges
Booker T Washington and Mary McCleod Bethune
Charles Houston, Ralph Bunche, Fredrick Douglass
WEB Dubois, Paul Robeson, Ralph Abernathy
Benjamin Banneker, Marcus Garvey and Crispus Attucks
Who’s death by the way
Symbolized the American lie
You cant declare the rights of all men
While the people of African decent rights get denied
But still we rise
Thanks to Dr Martin Luther King, Malcolm X,
The Black Panthers, the Buffalo Soldiers and Tuskegee Airmen
None who were showed any love
Yeah it’s an uphill battle,
But obviously greatness can be done.
We can rise above this stigma
That blacks are lazy and daunting
That our worth is null and void
And in essence minus nothing
And of all the names mentioned
And the greatness of their successes
No one has been able to erase the evil transgressions of a racist mind
And once you have experienced just a taste of it
It changes your perception of time
The oppression beats like the drum on the chariot
Of when it was finally time to escape to freedom
It's mine
Zora Neal saw that Their Eyes Were Watching God, when
Toni Morrison heard The Song of Solomon, and
James Baldwin Told It on the Mountain, while
W.E.B. DuBois embraced The Souls of Black Folks
Richard Wright was a Black Boy, that’s why
Dr. Maya Angelo Knew Why the Caged Bird Sang
Iyana Vanzant found Peace Within Pieces, when
Lorraine Hansberry ate a Raisin in the Sun, while
Terry McMillian was Waiting to Exhale
Where did all those black people go in Black History such as W.E.B Dubois,
George Washington Carver, Sojourner Truth,and many more that came before.
Why have their families disappear?
When you search their genealogy, their surnames are found.
Were their families wiped-out?
I am speaking on today.
These people paved a way out no way.
[***** SPIRITUAL - THE SPIRIT OF A SLAVE]
These old bones of mine stir in the grave.
I was a freedom fighter in my days.
Great I did do for the slaves even when their life in this country had been made.
We wanted a better living a holistic way.
Our troubles where many; we saw through the white man eyes or ways.
Old bones of mine became tired and disengaged.
Where is my family now?
Where did they go?
My spirit roams to find my kinfolks.
Our surname is no more.
My soul was baptized in the Mississippi.
I was raised from the river saved.
No sin was present and I lived right.
When I knew my time had come, I closed my eyes.
In those days, doctors were few in saving the life of a slave.
The pain was so great I knew I was gone.
But by the grace of God my life went on.
Ten years later, I was summoned home.
My people are no more.
Where did my people go?
I see our house yonder.
Our surname is not in existence any more.
The spirit of a slave
The soul afire
Roams the world in the sweet by and by
He shouts, "Still I Rise!"
________________________|
Penned April 29, 2014!
Over 200 years of oppression
Now days are we paying for our transgressions
Doing slavery we used our bravery
Breaking the chains doing the inhumane suffering and pain
While being disrespected by being called ambiguous names
Tubman took us through the underground
Old spirituals and praising the Lord was our sound
Douglass reformed abolitionist as he became free
While up North he read poetry by Phillis Wheatley
Sojourner was all about telling the truth
While W. B. Dubois taught us about our history, is that enough proof
These heroes and activist trail blazed the way
They put their faith and trust in God every day
When racial tension became too extreme Father God gave us Malcolm X and Dr. King
Why doesn’t it feel like that the freedom bell still rings?
America has an unapologetic past
A dark cloud of racial hatred has been casted
There is no respect for what has been done
Our ancestors raised their voices and fist, while our youth has loaded their guns
From our past history we were showed how to lead
But we have to encourage with God’s love to our new techno-media breed
In unity and peace on bended knees we have to constantly pray
So come together as one, “Let’s Lead the Way”
“He who cannot be a good follower cannot be a good leader.” -Aristotle
To find true love is such a thrill
Your heart pounds hard against your will
Glowing eyes and loving smile
Make you believe it’s all worthwhile
Apart for long you cannot be
I need to have you close to me
To hug, to hold, or merely kiss
Just thoughts of you are simply bliss
As time goes by our love unites
And no more dark and lonely nights
You are my sunshine and my desire
There’s nothing else that I require
©Elisabeth Dubois – 2012
Late 80s, Quebec, Ville de Lasalle,
A piece of my life, a piece of me,
I left behind; Fait accompli.
What I miss most? Je ne sais quoi!
Cartoons! Lagaffe, Robin Dubois!
Bicycle rides with my good friends,
Next to the river, along the bends.
I left behind a piece of my life…
Martin,
Not the German patrician, his vision was a stair
But our own peaceful prince
Well he invoked you
And not by calling Samuel back from the dead
He invoked you as seeker
He invoked as our searcher
For history, he said, is built on truth
No, not the lineal story
Of one race's glory on my marginality
Our history is always a collective place
A yard of memory
Where we meet at evening to tell
The honey and milk
Of our emasculated hell.
There is no dying here
How can we
What will the predator parasite live on then
So we are made
Zombies of an eternal pain
And you
Our seeker for the antidote
Between Fiske and Berlin
Here we come again
First son to be honored there
Among the ivy league
The doctor to proclaim
Himself one tenth of all of us
With the same double consciousness
Was it not for Fanon
I almost converged to the monstrosity
But then looking back
Over the Pan-African Secretariat
I knew we will never be divided again
So easily
Just rivers of different colors
Destined to end our struggle
Down awful topography of mountains
Down the callous memory of history
Between the churning white teeth of the sea
From my bridge
I watched that wave rise and fall
A thousand times
Pushing us against gravity.
Garvey would agree with me then
He would shake his head
When you were fled to Ghana
When the merging was no longer tenable
For a man lie to himself only for so long
While he searches for truth
I heard the abeng blow to call you home
William ... was not found in their register
William ... he was a Norse conqueror
Edward ... and all of them spineless kings
Burghardt ... and you ask me why
Why should not a thing like this make Africa invisible?
Du Bois ... so you mapped all the colonizers in your name
No, not you,
Our parents always conscious of their power
Yet I knew every cocoon
Is just another state of cobweb
And you would broke free
And many evenings I see you
Just flying on a page of empty sky.
The world is bleak the world is dark
There is no spark left in my life
A worthless journey with worthless goals
Made up with years of empty holes
There is no future there is no gain
Just a life so filled with pain
Treasured things so out of reach
Were never meant for me to keep
I had so wished to find a love
That moulded just like hand and glove
I always gave an inch or two
To keep a love that felt so true
So much to give, so much to share
With one that cared enough to care
I have no wish to struggle on
The war is over the world has won
©Elisabeth Dubois – 2012
A petal falls as morning dawns
flutters and sways gently aground
a light breeze may carry it away
before nature finalizes decay
the golden rose from whence it came
stands bare, its grace dismayed
a bud, a bloom, a scent to please
offers memories of what has been
a cycle of life, or so it seems
a moment in time or merely a dream
did we note its wonderful bloom
or did it live in solitude
too short a life to go unseen
beauty bounds within our realms
reflect on all of nature’s being
before we near our final sleep
© Elisabeth Dubois – March – 2011
Amongst the countless grains of sand
I sit and gather some in hand
A moonless sky is up tonight
Glittering stars with all their might
The grains of sands I dare compare
To the stars above to which I stare
The mind assumes it comprehends
Although it only makes amend
Am I a figment or just a dream?
Or maybe just a being supreme
Do I exist and does it matter
As time passes and things get darker
And what is time and how do we measure
A second, a minute or something bigger
Can we equate our life to be?
Something as simple as energy
I have no answers to all there is
Nor do I wish to even perceive
Whatever I am, I just accept
As answers remain quite inept
©Elisabeth Dubois – Dec, 2011
SHE PATIENTLY AWAITS...
In memory of the teen Amber Dubois and
by Donna Newton 2010
C linging to the special memories as
if silently creating a shrine,
Adding to them many more that at
the time was just simply life
I t is belief that you are in a better
place because where you
are is in God's loving grace,
and even though we believe
this too, Evil still got through
our protecting you
M y soul is hollow, cold with grief
I am consumed by the tears
that run rivers deep, and while
guilt fights to thaw this
overwhelming grief,
my parental obligation
is not yet complete,
as my surviving children
need a mom to be here
for them until they
too move on
S o it is here and now Lord
I call upon my faith
as the pain has made me weak...
dear heavenly father please
grant me strength to continue
life's journey now without
my angel's face
I ask of you Father please
keep a close watch as my
baby is now alone..
And however long it takes
she will patiently wait
to be reunited with mommy
As we walk through your
heavenly gates
There is an endless sea that engulfs all dreams
There is a land of sand that has no time
There is a sun that glows and a moon that shines
But what does all this, have to do with time?
A world and life that reflects beauty
A day is all we have, to embrace it fully
Moments of time is what we have
No past to regret no tomorrow to follow.
Today you’ll live a moment in time
As today, like any other day… is always today!
©Elisabeth Dubois 2011
Poet: Ken Jordan
Poem: Raise Your Hands
Edited by: Sparkle Jordan
written: August/2013
Raise
your hand
black
prince
and
black
princess -
Don't
be ashamed
to show
America,
just how
intelligent
you are -
Know who
your
ancestors
were -
know who
you are -
Raise
your hand,
be proud,
and
confident
about
your
righteous
place
in society -
You listened -
you learned -
you put in
the work -
Now
walk straight
in honor
of your
people,
who have
gone on
before you -(;)
Bending
there
backs
as slaves
to
pave
your way -
Raise
your hand;
keep 'em up,
you came
from royalty,
Kings
and
Queens -
So hold
your head
up
with
dignity -
Thurgood
Marshall,
Raised
his hand -
W.E.B
Dubois,
and
Barrack
Obama -
Raised
their hands -
be proud,
of who
you are -
Don't be
ashamed
to show
America,
just how
intelligent
you are -
like ms. dubois i feel that i’ve always found something in the
strange kindness that can be brought on
in just
the exchange of money for a newspaper
the asking of directions and being told where to go
the conversation that comes from mutual boredom between two in a waiting
room
talk produced by mutual anxiety when crammed in a subway car, an elevator, a
bus or an airplane (which inevitably relieves stress) or
banter that comes when purchasing gas at a gas station---
it can come when you expect it but it can amaze you even then,
when you tell tech support the problems with your cable television, your PC, your
telephone (really any of these western conveniences) & you think that they are
just playing the game
but they are nice to the nth degree!
the conversation between two people who have absolutely nothing to do with each other
except
for the context of that phone call,
can be an eye opening experience---
if anything,
it can illuminate the similarities in us
which can only be found when we have no other
vested interests or ulterior motives---
they are found in common politenesses
wherein people usher families through
when they are on their own
or when they offer up the same help with
directions or
with a special skill that they possess which another does not.
unlike blanche,
i don’t depend on these moments of
kindness,
as one cannot depend on anything in this short
existence,
but i do find them interestingly unique & positive amongst the
rest.
He goes by the name of Dizzy, for he is a dancing dervish
On the banjo his fingertips always pick’n a lively tune
His mama was from Dixie and his papa was a busking man
They lived a simple life sharing music on the streets
Or playing the lowland bars on a rowdy Thursday night
Now Dizzy is bent and even a bit stooped, all grizzled with grey
A slow shuffling man whose hard luck never got him down
Every Friday noon you’ll find him sitt’n with the AA folks
Following along and do’n the steps, his banjo playing a song
Then he heads off downtown to his favorite corner spot
Dizzy remembers his papa preforming here not many years ago
As his fingers tingle to feel the vibrations on the strings
He releases the notes of the banjo’s twang and his little jig step
He bows to the memory of his mama, blowing her a little kiss
He’s the last of his family and his name is Dizzy Danny Dubois