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Race Poem
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"La Voz"
La Noche sin agua --- I spill my loving lips
Dancing, laughing and celebrating life
I am his queen, aka' dulce Nina
A night he must not forget
Lunesta ... Suave ...
He savors every moment;
Then questions my capabilities
Suddenly I feel like a refugee in my own house!
History and bad company, repeating itself
He wants to ruin the beauty of leadership
America on top, Latinos on the bottom
"Legally," he says, he'll welcome me
Law abiding, I pass the proper speech
Stereotyped every time I share my race
Casting my poor nationality under the Rio Grand,
A wall too tall, in which my people continue to build
After I give him my all
Children, love, support
The best tortillas in the house
He offends a lifetime of memories
I'm a skillful woman, I dance with no music
I love to work, I take the field
Picking cotton, like there's no tomorrow
I will continue to paint rainbows
And enjoy every color in my garden.
Today, I've forgotten what Mexico looks like
However, that does not cut him from
accusing my race of planting too many trees
Calculating, calling Latinos criminals,
Forgetting his own sin, he wants to win
Insinuating we're robbing the American Dream
This is where I belong!!!
Go ahead and build more republicans
I'm already on the side I want to be
Born and raised in the USA
~*~
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2016
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Race Poem
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-THIS IS NOT A POEM-
Hey, Poets stop by, give me a shout out.
Tell Me Where You Are From;)
I promise I won't show up on your doorstep.
If you are having a bad day, let me have it
If you have awesome news, don't be greedy
---SHARE! SHARE!
By all means --- SHARE THE NEWS!!!
................. LOVE THE POET DESTROYER
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2015
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Race Poem
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His life was gentle, and the elements
so mixed in him that Nature might stand up and
smolder
bodies in unregistered cars idling softly toward oblivion
some quick to anger
some quick to profit
some quick for justice
some tigers lapping blood
some mothers still at 3AM
hands on shoulders with coos commanding
that in a tear and turned cheek there be 'integration'
parody: an orphan annie reboot
parody: 'little black sambo 'round the tiger pit he go!'
we have rioted the last of our colors
bleated them with flexed toes to the wall at the edge of the universe to reverberate starless between
eternity
nothing
and madness
we have bleated the last of our colors
with centuries gone by without tongue, sockets or lobes
we will bleed the last of our colors
some quick to die
some quick to steal
some quick to burn
some quick to
lend me your car keys
in a night of full of Alarics
I will bury you
in a night full of piccaninnies
I will melt you to butter
in a night where flames are fishhooks
Sir I need you to step back please
O, pardon me, thou bleeding piece of earth,
that
we have cried Havoc
let slip
and with purple'd prose stamped this hollowed earth
We who have lived so long
Sir?
shall with our breath turned mist
I need you to
stain only under stones
step
that pave with slippery breath
back
a headline for last weeks massacre
step
and tomorrow's graves
I need you to
I drew a line in the sand and you crossed it
They are not breathing
Look! Look there!
No.
I will not.
He dies
Copyright © Brooks Lindberg | Year Posted 2014
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Race Poem
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He skis down the slopes
of a snow covered mountain
racing against time
and his main adversary...
avalanche in hot pursuit.
----------------------------------
Written 28th May 2016
Contest: Traditional Tanka
Sponsor: Charlotte J. Puddifoot
Copyright © Paul Callus | Year Posted 2016
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Race Poem
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Love me in Black and White
musical intro
From the keys of your heart a melody rolled back the night
illuminated the sky with its symphony of lights
and fired new stars in the firmament,
each a budding soul, a firework
of colors spun within the
black and white keys
of your heart.
lyric /song (0:30 / 2:18)
If you find me
If you love me
I’ll open all the doors
to that secret place
where time and space lie
all snuggled up in place
into love’s embrace
and eternity’s
grace
just love me (x)
in black and white (x)
and all the grey of my heart
will soon disappear for
your sea-foam brush
will spray clots
of colors in
fertile soil
just find me (x)
and love me (x)
black or white
and a burst of moonbeam
will unfurl its loving sails
and my pain will drop
right back into
the sea of
moonless
dreams.
back to musical intro (1:52)
Copyright © Anne-Marie Coreggia | Year Posted 2017
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Race Poem
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A race against time.
I can not enjoy my days.
They are not long enough, for the things I want to do.
I simply come and go.
Stay long, I can not.
Like a relationship that comes and goes.
My life has no stop.
Ending up in places no one knows.
Over the edge, over the top.
I look at the time .
It flies by fast.
Where has my day gone?
In the morning I am sipping on coffee.
Now I am in bed, my day is done.
Minutes pass me by quickly.
Not giving me time to breath.
One day I was 23 years old.
The next day I turned 35, asking where did all the time go?
I am not getting young.
When is this going to stop?
It all started when my life begun.
Will it end the day I drop.
Like the milk that spills from a cup.
A race against time
Should I just give up?
I.T.
S.K.A.T. POETRY
3-31-10
Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2010
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Race Poem
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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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Race Poem
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Divine Flowers
In a flower’s velvet petals
There dwells a divine scent and hue
Soon a tiny creature settles
That will help pollinate a few.
We are blossoms of our dear God
Born each in colors of our kin.
It matters not our birth of sod
Neither the colors of our skin.
For Andrea Dietrich's "Tell Me Your Number Contest" I am 8
8 line form Heroic Rispetto (Month and Day) Path May 3rd. 5+3=8
Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong | Year Posted 2014
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Race Poem
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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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Race Poem
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Aimeriez vous une chevaline rouge
Composée de sucre d’orge?
(would you like a red horse made of barley sugar?)
Vous pourriez faire la race de
Plaines aux tires d’eponge.
(you could race across sponge toffee plains)
Vous amènera à un bosquet d’arbres
Faites de réglisses à la menthe
Ou des bariolé jujubes croissent au lieu de feuilles.
(would bring you to a grove of trees
Made of mint liquorices
Where multicolour jujubes grow instead of leaves).
For Debbie Guzzi's biLingual Poetry Contest
you wished for me to write something sweet, Debs:))
Copyright © Michelle Mac Donald | Year Posted 2012
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Race Poem
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I was sitting on the back porch ‘bout an hour after dark
When I couldn’t help but notice a tiny pulsing spark.
I thought it was a firefly – It had that kind of glow
But I’d never seen the likes of it – what it was I didn’t know
It flittered to and fro just like a firefly does
I went into the backyard to determine what it was.
Just as I approached the place I thought that it might be
It flew right up and landed very close to me.
Soon I realized it was no ordinary find.
What happened next you won’t believe – it nearly blew my mind.
A Lilliputian creature stepped from this tiny craft
Right then and there I was aware of questions I should ask.
He must have been aware of the fear he’d caused in me.
I could see my hands were shakin’ -- never thought I’d be set free.
His tiny voice became quite clear and in a most convincing tone
He said, “My friend, be not afraid – I‘m here all alone.”
He appeared to be confused a bit and why, I’ll never know
But the fear that he had fostered was about to let me go.
He began to tell his story; I let out a sigh
I knew I’d better listen to this little guy.
Now, he was small in stature; ‘bout a half inch, nothin’ more –
Why, I believe that he could pass through the space beneath the door. .
He then began to tell me – It must sound like a dream.
He was here because of some wayward sunbeam.
“I race Haley’s comet to the far side of the sun.”
He said, “The race is always over before it has begun.
There is a reason for these victories, you see
My good ship Omnipresence, right here in front of me.”
“Time and space,” He said. “Are always at my command.
I can do more things with them than man can understand.”
He said, “I spin the rings of Saturn, create firmament at will
I flew a mission of atonement to a very special hill.”
I asked, “Do you know Jesus? He died upon that hill.”
He said, “When all things are settled, everybody will.
I led three wise men to him that cold and wintry night
The shepherds were there to witness a miraculous sight
So you ask do I know Jesus? -- it fills me with such mirth --
This very craft was hidden there at the moment of His birth.
I was there to hear the angels when they sang out on high.
Yes, I’d say I know Jesus, That’s why I’ll never die.”
Written By John Posey
12/18/12
Copyright © John Posey | Year Posted 2012
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Race Poem
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Race with the wind, step up higher
Higher than blues of a sky;
Through an airspeed, mile-long flight
Chase a smooth or rugged pace,
Wings on feet, be the desire.
On to tracks as the nights inspire
Burn, burn man, whip a dream;
Heels kicking dust of life's byway
Chase a smooth or rugged pace,
Wings on feet, be the desire.
And spike that run like a lit fire
Gotta reach the stars’ motion;
Burn man, gears are in control
Chase a smooth or rugged pace,
Wings on feet, be the desire.
6/3/2015
Lyric Man's Sing Me..A Jingle
by nette onclaud
------
The mythological associations
for the brand Nike Shoes are flight,
victory, and speed.
Nike is the Winged Goddess of Victory.
Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2015
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Race Poem
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All the little bunnies were lined up for a race. Why, you may ask?
Because the dear old Leader Bunny was stepping down with grace.
He had led the others for years without disgrace, in all pursuits.
He was their advisor, friend, and confidant... solver of disputes.
Such a lofty position was dearly sought by all…from all around.
But he could pick only one to wear that lofty, wonderful crown.
So a race was determined to quickly resolve, the question therein.
And a lovely little laurel crown was offered, to the one who did win.
Now many strategies to win emerged from within the race.
The most common was the notion to set the fastest pace…
A few would use tricks that might hurt, in order to slow others down.
A few were mean, for they wanted the power that comes with the crown.
Two were clever and would catapult each other at the very end.
A few just practiced running to gain the added stamina needed to win.
Only one little rabbit found shoes for the poor, for it was a rocky trail.
And when the race began he helped those hurt in the prevail.
Now the dear old leader had never actually worn a laurel crown.
His had been symbolic; his works had brought him his renown.
When the Leader Bunny gave the laurel crown to he who won the race…
Only a few were surprised, when the little helper won the Leader’s grace…
Though some would go on to complain because he had come in last…
It truly takes someone who knows how to serve, to lead and guide the rest.
But my moral to this story is that…. Regardless what some may think…
It takes compassion to correctly lead…and sometimes the last can be the best…
Copyright © Carol Eastman | Year Posted 2012
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Race Poem
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When oppositional cognitive dissonance deflects focus,
it tends to go back to when I deflected focus from her.
She sends me passive-aggressive messages,
bread crumbs leading back in time
to where she began to feel alone,
marginalized,
siloed,
anxious.
If you don't want a sopping wet tile bathroom floor
because I have thrown all my naked Barbie and Ken parts,
especially their water-filled hollow insides,
and the five saturated pools of stained white washcloths
I took out of that drawer just like you said not to,
and the nice sudsy soft bar of soap,
then you might want to reconsider leaving the bathroom
during my bath.
You might want to think of telling a story
or imagining with my behavioral lectures
I so mercilessly inflict
on the shattered heads of my daughters,
oops,
I mean dolls.
Perhaps oppositional cognitive dissonance
is what Republicans have about Democrats.
If you folks would be so kind as to return to cooperative civic and civil discussion,
about my intrinsic dignity, royalty perhaps,
sense of anthrocentric entitlement,
immaculate integrity as a permacultured Orthodox Tradition,
utterly necessary to optimize sustainable and resilient health
for All Americans,
(although perhaps not quite sufficient),
including those who happen to have become embarrassed
by their unhealthy wealth and extravagant disregard
for undercommodified values,
like caring and nurturing, loving and therapeutic
mentoring relationships and trees of life, and economic
and eco-logical environ-mental (0)-sum cooperative networks,
like the synergy of all natural systems,
most especially religious cultures
delivering a united and interdependent positive teleology
that we all created this rapacious, extractive mess together.
So, please stop leaving the bathroom of discourse,
regardless of how rhetorically insane and polemic,
every time we complain about your shitty attitudes
about wealthy compost and sustainable,
resilient,
optimized economic growth.
Then you democratically complain,
by voting for the one you hate the least,
as we go right on doing
what we intended to do
while we were throwing water
on your slippery-floor economics
of radical,
reverse-hierarchical interdependence and mutual subsidiarity.
Much too "solidarity" for Republican taste as True,
much less Just to those who prefer their
economically entrenched competitive silos.
And,
our Democratic family value parents
hear their oppositionally disordered Republicans
as if they were bionically alien unitarian utilitarians,
like honey bees and ant hives,
devoid of deductive rational accessibility,
of even one of four dimensions of truth,
and without capacity to empathize with their well-mentored praxis,
of continually forgetting you could not climb a higher priority
right now
than telling your oppositional daughter Dr. Seuss's The Lorax,
interpreting each voice as your own Lorax Logos,
wondering why you continue competing
to reach a Win-Win Cooperative Game,
and political
and economic
and ecological
and cultural
and biological karmic finish line,
alone in your Permaculture Designed polycultural PolyLife Tree Paradise.
When you think about it,
you can see that your competitive political
and economic assumption,
that Win-Win cooperation will not have our final say,
is not ecologically, scientifically,
or even permaculturally, metaphysically
sound, rational, integrated,
sustainably designed to benefit future generations,
much less synergetic or holonically comprehensive.
You can't win a P=NP,
4-fractal/spiral (0)-sum
cooperative economic logistical plan
until everyone else has the freedom
and integrity
and ecotherapeutic orthopraxis comprehension,
intention,
to win-win with you, coincidentally.
With this perhaps un-Christian,
and vaguely irreligious perspective
that Democratic mutual-redeemer culture
is closer to (0) sum Core Value Balanced Heaven
rationality, and intuition,
than appears to be the case
for our benighted Republican
wealthy fat-cat anthro-supremacist residents of Earth,
we have turned rather too far
our spinning cultural revolution pendulum
away from the racist sin of monocultural monotheism,
poverty and the overpowering commodification of human lives,
and the commodification of other species,
and the commodification of Earth's fire, water,
soil and sky,
Her capacity to regenerate fertile seeds,
turning away from sin as sterile insanity,
disability and absence,
to now prophecy the sins of monopolistic wealth,
and power;
to notice challenging, dissonant tipping points
within monocultural,
monochromatic,
monopolistic
bicamerally competing economic uncertainty
and ecological dysfunction for all consciousness
all nations,
reconnecting our more humane DNA-informed
bicameral information processor branch of EcoTribe,
RNA-inscribed,
transliterate,
multisystemic and polycultural Climax Community,
diastatically
interdependently
coincidentally straining and stressing to comprehend
Polynomial SpaceTime = Not-Not Polynomial Open Systemic Binomial Prime Relationship Temporal "Now"
as Yang-convex/positive = Yin-concave/negative,
as +1.00% QBit = +/-(0)% Soul Core-emergent universal Vertex/Dark Recessional Vortex (Perelman, 1993)
So, yes, maybe somewhat closer,
but closer doesn't count
when playing Win-Win economic ecotherapy.
Horseshoes don't fit elephants.
Speaking of elephants in too-narrow-minded oppositional spaces,
where was I?
Oh, yes, she’s in the bathtub again,
better watch that floor.
Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck | Year Posted 2015
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Race Poem
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California Chrome’s bid for a triple crown was a no-go.
He didn’t win, he didn’t place. He didn’t even show.
The owners of the horse were hoping to pop the cork
at the Belmont Raceway in New York.
Down the drain went the hope for history with fortune and fame.
Many said the horse that won the Derby and the Preakness was not the same.
Loads of betters were disappointed. What a shame!
No thanks to another horse by the name of “Tonalist”,
another bid for a triple crown winner was missed.
Nobody will ever see me at the race tracks rambling.
No matter how you look at it, it’s still considered gambling.
Copyright © Robert Pettit | Year Posted 2014
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Race Poem
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westerly chasing daylight relentless darkness never cedes defeat
..............................
The single line Haiku known as a Monoku usually contains seventeen syllables. A caesura (pause) is initiated by speech rhythm and usually with little or no punctuation.
Form: Monoku
Written: 06/01/2016
Contest: Give Me Your Best One Liner
Sponsor: Silent One
Results: 2nd Place
Copyright © Jesse Day | Year Posted 2016
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Race Poem
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I approach her with the same
Love I approach my family with.
Her skin is black.
I try to speak a few words in her
Native language to welcome her.
Her skin is brown.
I married a Chinese/Hawaiian
and our child is beautiful.
His skin is yellow/brown.
I write poetry about the Native
Americans to celebrate them.
Their skin is red.
I fit in with every race because
My color contains all colors.
My skin is white.
© Connie Marcum Wong
Note: In honor of all the recent innocent deaths.
Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong | Year Posted 2016
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Race Poem
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What has happened to our kids?
Why did we become the type of parents we did?
Is there a name for us?
Slower, easier, then turned into a mess of fuss
Using our imaginations and reading the classics galore
So much lovely literature to explore
Had to look up facts in a Book
Critical thinking came without one second look
Now we have I.T. people at schools
Showing and telling us...
something I never really wanted to use
Gets me into trouble
What DO YOU mean I can't have that document on the double?
So, this generation I am in...the before and after
Are a special bunch of people going faster and faster
We are a special generation, you see
We grew up without the almighty god of technology
People try to put us down... cuz' we don't know the way around
Can ya dig what I'm tryin' to say? Computers will never fade away
I'm not tryin' to cause a big sensation...
Google is fine, but not the only means of education
Copyright © Jennifer Young | Year Posted 2014
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Race Poem
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~The Kentucky Derby~
(Quatrain)
What a glorious day it is today,
As people of all ages are having fun,
Because the Kentucky Derby race,
Is taking place till the day is done.
You can really see all around the,
Throughbred beautiful horses,too,
That will be competing for the,
grand prize that they'll give today.
There are very large crowds everywhere,and,
Folks are laughing and making bets to,
For their favorite horses everywhere, and,
You can feel their excitement mounting too.
You can see the jockeys walking around,
Displaying proudly all their best colors and silks too.
They all seem to be,more than ready for this race,
While taking last notes here and there to make things okay today.
Well,this wonderful race is about to start any moment now.
The horses are being prepared in every way,and that's true,
As they're all looking their very best from head to hoofs,
The winner will receive a very beautiful cup and great honors,too.
So many bets that are at stake here for so many today,
People are very excited, rushing all over the place to,
As the horses and their jockeys are getting ready now,
The jockeys are looking so proud atop the horses they'll ride, too.
The horses and jockeys are now set for this much awaited race,
They're all in line and in their position to start anytime to,
But it will take a long time for sure for this race to be over,
But already it looks like "Black Beauty" is about to make history today.
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2011
November.16.2016
Copyright © Dorian Petersen Potter | Year Posted 2016
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Race Poem
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If my horse on the race course
a winner for me
then the course for my race horse
makes me debt free.
So the beat of the mare's feet
makes me debt free
gold such a treat for this feat
a winner for me.
Copyright © harry horsman | Year Posted 2012
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Race Poem
|
Today the New York Marathon's
Become a non-event.
The runners' opportunities
To race both came and went.
At first the mayor said it's on,
Despite the storm's destruction;
And then, last minute, pulled the plug
And gave a new instruction.
The racers coming to New York
Most likely were confused;
And those who paid for flights and rooms
I'm sure were not amused.
It's sad that all that training
For this race has come to naught,
The miles of pavement pounded
On each sneaker that was bought.
But certainly the mayor
Could have hurrried his decision.
His turnabout last-minute call
Has earned him great derision.
The city wasn't ready yet
To up and celebrate.
The mayor should have known that,
But discovered it too late.
Copyright © ilene bauer | Year Posted 2012
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Race Poem
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When you're wanting to bet
On a racehorse, don't fret.
With this tip from the stable door.
Pair Wunwun with Tutu,
A double that's for you.
It's a wager you should not ignore
Wunwun won,one race,
And Tutu too, her chase.
That has left one bookie,quite sore.
1 1 is a racehorse. 2. 2 is 1. 2
1.1. 1 1 race 2. 2 1. 1. 2.
Wunwun is a racehorse. Tutu is one too
Wunwun won one race. Tutu won one too.
11 / 2 / 2016.
Copyright © george seal | Year Posted 2016
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Race Poem
|
Gunshots be leavin 'em children alone
they gotta find a way all on they own
kids screamin out sets for hope
then run around with a crew slangin dope
can't forget that they saw they fathers go
witness to earth the bloodiest show
to young to truly understand
despite what ya heard God won't hold your hand
It seems to me that we've been forlorn
destined death after death to mourn
lookin at the future of us all
death to brothas come at a sudden call
little children begin to see the light
keep on killin knowin that it ain't right
but desperation sets in hopin for death
because it's to painful to take another breath
How many of my brotha's died last week
an an answer given not for the weak
life like this shoulda made us sick
creepin in streets tryin not to get licked
time again are numbers start to dwindle
hopein for knew life in this race to be kindled
but all we ever do is disappear
it's funny that are lives are consumed by fear
and are youngstas reproduce fast
more brothas get shot lives endin in head casts
why do we gotta die at such a rate
a brotha feel cold heat as if it's fate
and as my brothas always seem to die
my race got another reason to cry
little niggas is our only men
no more elders in my dearest black kin
Now we got kids runnin da street
that means, the judge and jury da heat
the boys in blue pilein up da dead
crackas in th oval office shakein da head
the ghettos so lost can we find a way
it seem's that the only hope we got is to pray
and children already learn how god do
give to those who take so we take with a 22
now we gotta cope, sippin' on brew
gettin faded thinkin bout the dirt we do
and that just make a brotha think
why we be born livin on da brink
seein bodies fallin fast in packs
cause it be like we forced to fire back
so thelast thing is to put bodies in bags
at da funeral drapin our brothas with rags
Copyright © Christopher Williams | Year Posted 2005
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Race Poem
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When I was a lass, we didn’t have much
Funny how we liked it though, just as such
We played in the street with a whip and top
In the school playground on a hopscotch we’d hop
Streets were quiet ‘cause there weren’t many cars
Falling off our bikes to leave a few more scars
Dandelion and burdock to drink with Sunday dinner
Yorkshire pudding first, that was always a winner
I remember when I did the hula hoop real good
I can’t do it anymore but really wish I could
Blackjacks, fruit salad, sweets and sherbet dips
Pear drops in our penny mix along with cherry lips
Love hearts, fruit gums and liquorice shoelaces
Sports days at school, the egg and spoon races
The three legged race and the sack race too
There were lots of sports we had to try and do
We had to behave ourselves when we were young
At school in the assemblies hymns were sung
Snowball fights and sledging we had in the snow
Where did all those lovely years really go
Then we grew up and things moved on
All those years as a child had now gone
I remember it so well but it was long ago
I wish I was a lass again, knowing what I know
Copyright © Pamela Griffiths | Year Posted 2009
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Race Poem
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The risks to most were far too high
Much too much daily effort needed.
As for the course itself, a death trap
particularly for anyone too inexperienced.
Each fence had to be riden correctly
otherwise the too wide turn catches you out.
Leaving you many yards behind some race on,
The weak pull up their race is done.
The field now halved leaves more room
and some foolhardy people go for the gaps
to find themselves brought down hard
they had over jumped and paid the penalty.
The remaining few were far apart
yet most soldiered on hungering
for the prize, the acclaim and title
Until next year they sit at the top.
Copyright © Shadow Hamilton | Year Posted 2017
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