Best White Person Poems
The Nameless
Slipping through the sieve of history,
the nameless rest.
Not for the nameless are roads renamed, nor monuments built.
Not for the nameless are songs sung, nor ink spilled.
The nameless rest.
Their silent sacrifice,
quiet ordeal,
muted trauma,
remain interred,
amongst their remains.
The nameless rest.
Not for the nameless are doctorates conferred, nor eulogies recited.
Not for the nameless are honours bestowed, nor homages directed.
The nameless rest.
They rest within us,
they walk with us,
in every step that we tread.
They rest within us,
they walk with us,
for their spirit is not dead.
“Your name is unknown, your deed is immortal”
- inscription at The Tomb of the Unknown Soldier WWII in Moscow
Special thanks to my dearest elder sister Tasneem Nobandla Moolla, whose conversations with me about life as a non-white person growing up in pre and post-Apartheid South Africa prompted me to write this dedication to the countless, nameless South Africans of every colour, whose sacrifices and dedication in the struggle against Apartheid tyranny must never be forgotten.
My sister’s middle name ‘Nobandla’ which is an isiXhosa name and means “she who is of the people” was given by her godfather, Nelson Mandela, my father’s ‘best-man who could not be, as Nelson Mandela was unable to-make it to my parent’s wedding as he was in jail at the time in the old Johannesburg Fort. This was the 31st December 1961.
SOMETIMES I WONDER IF , WHAT OUR HEROES IN HISTORY REALLY DID ANYTHING BECAUSE THEY FOUGHT SO HARD TO ABOLISH THAT WORD NIGGA.. NOW EVERY ONE IS BRING BACK IT HAS NOW BECOME POPULAR WORD . SOMETIMES I CALL IT #UNSPOKEN REASON BECAUSE SOMETIMES U SAY THING AND THEN THEY GET OFFEND BUT I AM SPEAKING OUT NOW. SO WHAT I AM SAYING IS TOO UNDERSTAND WHAT I AM WRITING . MY NIGGA ,WATS NIGGGA PEOPLE LISTEN TO WELL AND CLEAR WITH UNDERSTANDING NIGGA IS NOT AN FRIENDLY WORLD IS A DEGRADING WORD . DID OUR ANCESTOR FOUGHT LONG AND HARD BECAUSE IT DIDN'T HAPPEN OVER NIGHT THEY TO FOUGHT STRONG.
WHAT I DON'T GET IS IF A WHITE PERSON CALL U A NIGGA YOU GET OFFEND SO WHY IS OK FOR ONLY BLACKS TO SAY IT TO ANOTHER ITS SAME DEGRADING WORD AND THERE THE SAME SPELLING AND EVERYTHING. SO THINK TWICE BEFORE U SAY NIGGA OUT LOUD..
BY:STACY-ANN BARRETT
Why is it that we as black (we being the black people who do it) have this sad tendency of thinking that white is the ultimate thing? What do I mean?
She's so pretty,ungathi ngumlungu?
She thinks she's better then everyone,and acts like a white person?
Look at the way she speaks English( normally because the person speaks fluent english) she thinks she's white?!
Did you hear what she said? She said she likes rock music (she must think she's white)
Her hair is so long and silky ,she must have European blood( as if a black person can't have beautiful hair)
We oppress ourselves by thinking that "white" is the race to aspire to be,when we actually really know nothing about the white community because we barely even know any white person (no offence to my "white" friends??) but really,maybe it's time we take the good things that with being "black" and make them a part of who we are as well.
Now, I know the barriers of the skin colour are the ones
Imposed by the human mind
The aesthetic of a man aren't embedded in his possession
But they are embedded in his ability to touch souls in this whirl wind of divided culture
I have seen no beauty so iridescent like that of a non discriminating mind
A mind free of prejudice and full of love so great it flows like an ocean
... I found that mind graced by the beautiful ' Naija Oyinbo '
An angel of words
An angel with halo traded for visibility
A woman with blooming love that radiates
... It's the magic of her words
The magical feel of the words carved by her pen
Touching souls, a privilege accorded to few minds
I found that mind graced by the beautiful 'Naija Oyinbo '
* Naija is a short way of calling Nigeria, and oyinbo means a white person.
22-04-2017
For Shadow Hamilton's contest.
Some whisper black, some mumble white,
When you marry them; they experience a stream of delight
The world started its life with the two colors united,
Then why there is a system that divides them?
Don't you remember how beautiful were those channels on tv?
Playing the black and white opera or a cricket spree
You appreciate the beauty of black and white photography,
Yet you discriminate a human based on topography
You admire the aesthetic tones of black and white in unison,
But look at them separately when it comes to humans.
You filter effects to look beautiful with black and white,
And yet when you come across a black or white person,
Your attraction gets biased between the two,
You look for more white and less black.
Aren't you a soul that's already blank?
Old Uncle Mack had a long life,
seen alot,
racism and civil rights,
picked cotton in a hot summer field
for a man who didn't care for him.
He rode the rails for most of his life,
seeing things and meeting people,
landed a nice retirement check.
Humor and wit seemed to pour out
of Uncle Mack like the Country Blues
he could play on that old Martin.
I met him late in his life
in the deep old South
of this nation through a friend.
He wasn't really my Uncle,
he became much more than that.
I help him do the things
he needed to do.
He taught me how to play the Blues
and told me stories of days long gone by.
On a hot July day my friend
called to tell me Uncle Mack
had quietly passed away that night.
At the funeral I was the only
white person around,
some of the family questioned me.
After the preacher said his say
and the tears were falling,
I began playing my guitar the way
Uncle Mack had taught me
and let my tears fall like rain.
All were silent when I was done,
I threw my guitar pick in the grave
and walked away thanking the Lord
I'd met this man,
my "Uncle Mack".
Brother Gaus
Gaus is a Rainbow man
Only that he’s not curved.
He’s just a miscellany
That makes him striking.
Gaus has a funny knack
Of repairing any gadget
Can do so with anything
Except repairing himself.
He can service the lot
Except his own wife.
With identity so fluid
He lives by convenience;
He’s black to a black man
White to a white person.
He’s a fast talker, Gaus,
Using a funny diction....
Take it with a pinch of salt;
He lives by expediency
He’s curved as his colour!
A mixture of colours-
A chameleon in the bush,
He takes colour of bush
In which he deeply hides
And never the lash bush
The colour of his hide!
He’s always out of colour
Unless abound colour nearby
This makes him fluid,
Expeditious and impulsive.
Gaus believes in a god;
A god not too black
Nor a god who is white
But god who is coloured!
At least his is not racist
Though not coloured God
Or one of expedience
Or God who is fluid
Or one who repairs all
Except mending Himself,
Or who is a fast talker
Getting followers nowhere
Good to regard or take
With a pinch of salt...
But then Brother Gaus is!
Talks of the war time
Fighting on the wrong side...
It gave him sense of sate
Choosing who paid most.
Maybe his side was right.
He was on the cross roads;
Colour crisis that mislead
Both and was hated by both!
He was also ostracised
But hung onto the diction.
His wife is sable black
Memories of ancestors;
All are as white as snow.
He is left-handed and fast
When kindled a slugfest
He embodied barbarism
Of one side and tactic
From the other camp.
He demands white’s meal...
When he fails at school
“Native ancestors are ok!”
Lazy: Whites are thinkers,
“I need no manual work...”
Greed: “I need much meat,
“Ancestors were hunters!”
That’s why a tortoise
Has a shell that is cracked;
The tactic of retracting
After attracting hatred
Draws a lot of resentment.
Both cannot trust Gaus!
He’s like a mouse and bird
Both merged together
To create a power mule
Of a funny countenance.
Would he run with Hare
And hunt with Hound...?
Gaus will run with both
And be chased by both..
And, none will be pleased!
JM
03rd Nov’ 2013
.
As I stalked the dust clouds
headed westward
and moved in mine red hide
for the closer vision
that beating was not our tribes
buffalo skinned drums
it was my Shoshone born
heart
as mine eyes intently stared
at that
ta-ba-bone sylph
My bow
and arrow
I quickly replaced with the
wild grass lands flower
and like our mountains lion
I crept besides
her pearly white flesh
Her trembling hand reached
for mine gift...
instantly as our hands began to
mesh
I felt the hot flash
of her fathers
wrath
Inspired by Deborah Guzzi's, Westward movement.
Ta-ba-bone was a Shoshone ("one coming from the
Sun, East") word for a white person.
black and white views
In this era
Of extreme polarization
We have lost our sense
Of humanity
Seeing the same event
A black man walks to his car
Confronted by five cops
Guns drawn
He tries to get in his car
To check on his three children
As he is pulled out of his car
He was tazer then shot
Seven times in the back
At close range
While his three young children
Sit in the car
Look on terrified
As they see their dad
Shot by the police
Many whites think
Well he must have done something
To deserve this Fate
On that date
Perhaps he had a criminal record
Had a knife or gun
Talked back to the police
Perhaps used curse words
Perhaps not showing proper respect
To law enforcement
Which should be a crime
After all
And it does not concern me
I don’t care
About this at all
Not my problem
Will not ever
Happen to me
But in any event
People will hit the streets
Protesting yet again
Why can’t they just shut up
And leave it be
It is what it is
Black people brown people
Think of course
He was shot dead
Shot seven times
His crime
Being a black man
In Trump’s America
A white person would not have been shot
Would have been treated with respect
But he is just another
In a long line of people
Shot by the police
Many of them
Turned into ghosts
Because black lives
Do not matter at all
The truth is lost
In the shuffle
The facts are clear
The police over-reacted
Using deadly force
As a first response
Not as a last resort
After talking to him
Trying to calm things down
If that did not work
tazing him
Should have been the end
Of the confrontation
If he was indeed
A violent criminal
But he was a black man
That is all the cops saw
Black lives still do not matter
They have never matter
Will this change anytime soon
I doubt it
As longer as old white men
Are in charge of our society
And black and brown lives
Do not matter at all
It is what it is
Born into a world of lovely things
Lovely dreams and childish beliefs
That in this word I think
I shall be treated as a human being
Despite my skin color, my ethnicity, my breed
Well, I am broken-hearted, crushed dreams, you see
To see how this isn’t how life is going to be
At least for someone like me
Living life as a child
Told young that because I don’t have white skin and blonde hair,
Life won’t be as fair
That people liking me will be rare
Living life as an adult
I have to walk down the street scared
And I swear
My heart beats faster and my stomach tears
With every white person that stares
Is this just me being delusional
Is this just conditional
Is this emotion exceptional
Is this feeling locational
Is the racism unintentional
Is any,all,of this irrational
No, no,no,no,no
This hatred is divisional
This war is attritional
The resentments one dimensional
This hostility is conventional
And my skin color is correctional
My skin color is correctional
I am correctional
I hope this hatred isn’t irrevocable
If not
I hope my skin is changeable
Born into a world of hatred things
Torn dreams and lost beliefs
That in this world I think
I won’t be treated as a human being
Because of my skin color, my ethnicity, my breed
So, I am broken-hearted, crushed dreams, you see
To know this is how life is going to be
At least for someone like me
You use the “N” word like it’s going out of style; it’s not just insulting
but it’s also vile.
A six-letter word with so many implications; a word that has caused marches
and demonstrations.
You use the word like it’s a term of endearment; why is your use of the
“N” word so frequent?
Do you even know the meaning of the word? Calling your own folks that
is extremely absurd.
If a white person said it you’d be ready to fight; but as long as it’s your
own folks it’s cool and all right.
I hear the word so often I can’t even stand it; I wouldn’t feel bad if
our Lawmakers banned it!
Rapper does that word help your rhymes flow? Are there any more
positive words that you know?
Does saying the “N” word empower you? Can you go without using it
an hour or two?
Whoops you slipped up and said it again! Do all of your sentences have
to start with “N?”
Are you trying to show your level of intelligence? You use it
every sentence but you never make sense!
You say: “I use the “N” word but I don’t really curse,” but by using
that word you have done even worse.
It was one of the first words your child said; he knew that word before
he ever read.
I ask what kind of example you are setting. It's definitely not a good one is what
I'm betting.
Take the “N” word out of your vocabulary; the inability to express
yourself is only momentary.
It’s the most degrading word our race has heard; please
don’t continue to use the “N” word!
The Love song
I woke up early in a good mood thinking of writing a love poem to my wife.
looking in the YouTube, I came across
“The three tenors,” couldn`t resist their beautiful voices.
I was going to find “I believe in angels” by Abba
but first the famous tenors.
Wife woke up told me to turn it off she couldn`t sleep.
I remembered Lorenzo Marcus 1964 I was on a ship
unloading cargo destined for Rhodesia.
Everything has changed now LM is now Maputo
and Rhodesia is Zimbabwe, and it was a good time
for a white person.
So I didn`t play the Abba song as the lyric is banal
and I was no longer in a loving mood
I’m writing this poem because well
White People are crazy
and this is coming from
a white person
a white women
cuz damn
we have got to do better
cuz damn
I am tired of being associated with racist sexist
White people
come on
This isn’t new
And That’s what’s crazy
People are acting like
it’s new
We have been through this before
We have been through this because we caused it
Chinese exclusion act
And Asian hate crimes are only rising with COVID
And as these communities cry out
“Racism is killing us”
And white people just stand up and articulate that they need to go home
Wow
White people.
Damn
How are you capable of causing everybody so much pain.
I have tried my best to shut it down
Tried to shut it out
But
Damn
White people.
Damn
The Race Thing
My ignorance was total, xenophobia in Africa; no, not
white people against black but black on black.
One sided I thought, mostly reading western history
that xenophobia was white against coloured people.
No I’m not shocked if surprised and I do not applaud
but somehow make me finally understand that Africa
has many races and many faces and are as different as
the Portuguese from The Swede, we get that we get
that and when we do xenophobia in Africa too.
No, this knowledge is no getting a white person off
the hook because white anti racism is built on fantasy
that we are so much better than them.
We who invented fascism a fever we now see seeps into
Israel too and make the people there think they are superb.
and have contempt for the rest.
The Pig
The pig, also called swine is the most human of animals
those who have tasted human flesh say it is not different
in taste and texture, but can easily be overcooked.
The domestic white person colour pig gets little exercise
cooped up in a pen where they have to sleep in their own
excrement and fattened for slaughter.
One can regard this as an ultimate cruelty to an intelligent
the animal is robbing it of natural dignity.
The wild pig –boar- is quite another thing, a good runner
that is not easy to catch, lives and thrives in Europe`s forests
it is not scared and can attack and kill you if it so wanted, but
the boar think humans stink and prefer to run away when
smelling Christian blood and the odour of dark church recesses.