What's in a name,
what say you man of the high mountains
Euro pleasing
I am not who you say that I am
Elohim my first Father my true love
My bridegroom He created me
But yet you have renamed me
You have chosen to call me out of my name
You stolen my name but I know my name
You call me so thoughtless out of you mouth this through United States census
*****, Colored, Black, African-American, Afro-American
back to *****, Brown Skin, Darkie Boy, N*****
More too come???
What's in a name?
12/14/23
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2023
Fate!
She rowed in moonlit night and I
Was staring in the darkie deep
She smiled and at once I enthralled
She with Her mystic eyes peep
She harkened come and sit with me
You standing at the forlorn shore
I'm there roving , all alone
I'll be lonely now no more
She said I'll be at thy side
And hence she gave me oars
I sat in boat with her and she
Opened the ocean door
She said that thou with mystic eyes
Now shore thou can not see
I'll be at thy side and thou
Forever live with me
I'm the second life of world
I'm eternity
In wavy ocean dipped she oars
And boat too far off went
I slept on floor of bluish deep
Along with flowery scent
(Tucker’s Wet Dream!)
It seems ‘twenty-four/seven’ Republicans choose
to subject us, our nation to “Screw O’Clock News”
as if Truth’s all that exits their Trinity holes!
What they say is pure gold! You have doubts? Check the polls
that Fox scripts and then pays for (though fools do resist
who are closer to monkeys - most dark-skinned!) Sun-kissed
to pick cotton, from day’s dawn till dusk (if poor’s genes
chafe a bit, most are blessed by such labor). It means
they’ve served ‘Light’ (in a way!) For a ‘Darkie’ it’s play!
Yes, Tuck Carlson “hates” Trump (In his soul! Gosh! Who knew?)
though he puckers right up when Trump’s rump is in view
AND Tuck’s paycheck gets bump! Sure, Tuck smiles (swells with pride),
his tongue forked like a snake’s! Proof he’s on the “Right’s Side!”
The Conservative’s Mantra’s that taxes deserve
to be paid by the poor for they’ve less to conserve!)
Watch how wealth dribbles down! There’s more cotton to pick,
when the rich hoard their gold (the truth’s poor don’t get sick!)
Poor man’s liquid desert – faux gold trickle, not spurt!
Long Tooth
March 14th in 2023
Can she see
the beryl words I keep
hidden inside?
Precious words I want to say,
but I’m too
darkie me shy
I cover my cocoon feelings
with an awkward “hi”
Whenever she Madame butterfly
passes by
I love how she gives me
a bright smile
with her beautiful eyes
Makes jade heart
no want to be
so darkie me shy
Oh, how I love
her candlelight eyes
They shine forest green,
at dawn sunrise
This lovely morning,
I overheard her name
for the first time ...
Today, me going to tell her mine
And hope that our lives
can become
as one Divine
Oh, how I love
her halo radiant eyes
They glow sky emerald
in the evening twilight
Going to let her see
the tears of joy
kept bottled up inside
Shower her with love ...
give a kimono kiss no goodbye
Rainbow light
every evergreen lantern
in Tokyo tonight
Watch the glowing teardrops
brighten the harbor sky
Let her see the Sol fire passion
when doves cry
Then there be no aurora soul
reason why
to stay darkie me shy
11-28-20
Little lemmings,
beware of the Yukon yodel
Don’t ear swallow the Arctic shiny yellow
Fake eureka disclosure: It’s jingle hollow
So, enamel blowflake please,
place not your panhandle hope
in Ivory Boast fool’s goad
I, ebony breath beg of thee,
be not glutton belly-button led
by a cold, glittering scold
Don’t covetously follow down that
moral bankruptcy road
In pocket phantom search of
the vapor Mutter lode
Me true mouth reveal
You con artificial treasures,
lip sin-thetic as can be
Buried deep
in hidden veins of avarice,
a fraudulent rush of pulse greed
Little lemmings,
has your metallic lust minds
been pricked
by the spiked-tongue,
prospector stick
Well, that illusory discovery
is sho’ gonna make you
empty riches sick
You’ve been mine shaft collapsed warned:
With an amber hair air of wavy mirage con-fidence,
scratch not shiny pockets of leper loins
Don’t dare hoard collect
pubic counterfeit canary-colored coins
This project Private D be
pitch black ink hurling free,
five-star ingot spit
Can you dig it!
Rare Darkie wisdom uttered
be Ghetto parable
Nugget knowledge unstuttered —
Sambo Spade told
Just another siren roadkill:
A low-down,
rabid raccoon resisting arrest
at high noon
A feral noted asphalt death
So says the official pol-pol report
In a Terminator monotone
was the desk commandant’s
brass tact, swastika vapor retort
Abel-bodied justice, sho’ nuff —
A redacted cam footage snuff
Grim fire Cain desire,
hate-lust displayed
when coldly
slapping on the Reaper cuffs
Tar baby fetal prone pinned fatally;
poly blue-kneed on the jugular,
Bwana caught baboon can’t breathe
By George,
bad monkey got a name
Floyd recorded on the birth registry,
a curious
violent death
t’was how the end came
Ebony communities unnerved
by the strangled justice served
Latest rap sheet statistic said,
just another darkie
lights out dead
Midnight scary thoughts:
Pet cemetery spook laid in a
ghetto dirt bed
Asphyxiation was how his neo-plantation air bled
Suffocated by roots of slavery injustice, I’m afraid
I rode shotgun
with someone
who look just like me
Had the same skin color
as far as I
could steering wheel see
I rode shotgun
with a racist someone,
who hatefully
talked the same way as me
Had the same gnarled speech,
same gnarly hands,
same ugly voice,
same cursive feet
like the carpal in the passenger seat
I rode darkie mind shotgun
with a ghost face someone
who look unholy, just like me
Had the same 20/20 side-by-sidearm vision,
same 20/20 gauge belief
As near as I
could peer passenger see
I once rode shotgun
with a rearview mirror friend,
now a gas pump-action enemy
It’s hard to double barrel conceive,
I went from zero-to-sixty in a heartbeat
Change of attitude direction
came baptismal trigger swiftly
I was passenger told ... and I prayer hope,
distant objects are closer
than they appear to be
You know me,
or maybe you don’t
I’m that black cat
sitting in the back
with the big white eyes
glowing in the dark
If you’re one of them uncool rats
who love making light
of other people’s plight
Well, that ain’t right ...
it’s gonna make the darkie in me
open wide your eyesight
I’m that darkie
whose voice don’t have a dull shine
I’m that black cat
who’s gonna speak his mind
I’m midnight invisible,
watching the greedy dogs
snatch the crumbs off the table
I don’t fight, I don’t flee ...
when I’m in your presence
just let me be ... let me live in peace
Don’t bother me,
but if you do
I’m that black raisin seed
that gets stuck in your teeth
Make you spit my name out your mouth,
give you nightmare blackberry grief
You don’t wanna dance mental with me,
‘cause this darkie was born to shoulder pain
Can take the brunt of just about most anything
Each bruise makes my skin darker than its been
And the darker it gets, the more I feel free
I will die showing the next gen
what the color of true courage be
Out of the hills of St. Catherine and the plains of Linstead
emerge a warrior princess…
A victor not a victim of her circumstances, struggles or plight
Miss Claris
With warm, loving, industrial hands she raised a large bunch of children…
Curry saltfish, roti, curry goat, fried chicken,
Mackerel run-down, roast yam, bammy
She could cook it all…
Miss Claris
Fierce, blunt, tell it like it is –Miss Claris
She has an endless list of alias for everyone-
Miss Uptown (that’s me), Dunnie, Baugh, Tony, Pauline, Junie, Mellow, Mousy, Sueie, Manchin, Chu-cho, Lovene, Darkie, Sam, Tin-Tin, Troy, PAULINE
Miss Claris
A fantastic sense of style, unconventional sense of religion, devotion to family and friends and a beautiful smile:
Miss Claris
A blot they want to wash, detergents do not work
Ineffectual, institutional and cover ups a stir
Excuses abound, squirming hierarchy found
"Its just a darkie, why so narky"
The corridors would sound
It still goes on, gone several years
Distrustful patronising leaders
A scurge we hope that does not surge
To Nazi ways and olden days
Where races they would purge
Ex Drover, me
As the cleaner sweeps the street,
And the saddle leather squeaks,
cos he's riding ol Darkie,
an his mind is with the herd.
He remembers the cold nights,
Leaps from his swag at daylight,
To stand by the fire ,
For some breakfast egg n bacon.
Yes bloody sah!
An the coffe black as char,
Sucked from his quartpot , jar.
And the toast is a burning ,
Like a bad cigar.
Is burning ,
And the sun comes up, aha.
So we’ll move them poley bullocks,
On the grassy stock route millet,
And the bore drain will water ,
Them poley bullocks shortly,
Till we get to Mungathar.
Don Johnson 8-aug-11
He killed him for being black. ''Darkie'' he shouted before the bullet hit.
She was spat at for looking different ''paki go home'
Laughed at for wearing a scarf. Kicked to death just because he was a jew.
We may all look different, have different believes. Yet we all are the same race, one race.
The human race.
Our blood is the same colour.