Long Blacks Poems
Long Blacks Poems. Below are the most popular long Blacks by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Blacks poems by poem length and keyword.
I judge men by the colour of their teeth,
And by the colours of their teeth I group them:
The Whites we have,
The Blacks we have,
The Browns we have,
And the Yellows too.
Life we all start as Whites, and with good care
Whites we remain.
With less care Yellows we become;
With yet lesser care Browns we become;
And with least care to Blacks we turn.
‘Tis thus that our descent down the rungs of color
Often bespeaks our personal quality.
By effort and discipline Blacks, Browns, and Yellows
are sometimes to Whites restored:
So it is that men can choose what color they'll be
If by tooth not skin we judge their color.
There is song and speech in the colors of their teeth
From which can be gleaned glimpses of their habits
and hints of their mettle.
But neither song nor speech we find in their skins
Which are born mute, live mute, and die mute.
So if ever you hear my skin speak,
Spinning tales of my habits and mettle,
Rather look up my teeth and hear their side.
They lack a tan but speak a tonne--
That much I know from my years on earth.
The whole truth they may not give
But what you get is closer to it!
by Robert (Bob) Moore © 2016
For all who suffer Arthritic pain
they know when it’s going to rain
aches in joints, won’t go away
just got to get through another day
We all have it to some degree
I know you feel it more than me
I try to support you when I can
and do some jobs, but I’m just a man
Can’t do the wash the way you like
I think it’s only in your psych
blacks and whites don’t wash together
hang things out, but watch the weather
That can fade, hang inside out
that will need three pegs no doubt
hang by the top, to keep it straight
coat hanger there, to take the weight
cooking needs a whole new plan
I used to cook as a single man
but eggs and bacon wont suit her needs
something fancy, full of seeds
Steak Dianne, that sounds real nice
Worcester sauce and oven fries
thickened cream and parsley fine
a dash of Brandy, or maybe wine
I really wish that I could do it
people say there’s nothing to it
if that’s what she wants, then all I say
you can make it, when your better eh.
Housekeeping is where I really shine
vacuum, dusting, it all looks fine
don’t move the armchairs, don’t look behind
‘cause if you do, then dust you’ll find
Then into the bathroom, that’s a lovely place
scrub the grout and tiles, till you can see your face
all the glass and mirrors, must be bright and clean
and finish with the toilet bowl, polished to a sparkling sheen.
I proudly say “I’m Finished” (it’s taken me 2 days)
and now comes the inspection, to learn the error of my ways
that’s nice she says, its saved me time, and I’m feeling better too
and the rain may clear tomorrow, so thanks a lot to you.
(she’s nice)
STALKER
I rue the darkness
follows me
‘neath faded yellow
streetlights
surrounded by the dance
passing shadows
leery
of soft lights.
I fear the demons
that I seek
to keep at bay
the demons that
I flee.
I lurk
beneath an undrawn
curtain
center stage
no lights
no lines
no audience.
I blend
into the shadows
lonely figures
grays and blacks
retreating
into darkness.
I stalk a man
gone
too far, too long
stalking
the demon
stalking
me.
©11/7/2017
submitted to – STALKER – Poetry Contest
Lynching Live; So What? Trumped-Up Normality Reins
Knee lynching streamed live,
Shadowed death’s source is revealed;
Justice remains blind!
Cameras roll, showing death’s shadowed
source.
Cameras don’t lie; streaming the truth of
live murder.
Oppressive actions of intentional racialism
unveiled;
Yet, lynched justice remains dangling on the
tree of life.
In oppression, when freedom fires flare-up,
Executive ordered murderers begin shooting;
Revealing despotic authority racialism controls.
With the support of blind justice’s unbalanced scales,
The justified lynching of hued citizens remains pandemic.
The pandemonium of the intentional killings of forested
black men
Has become as normal in America as its friend, out-right
abject racism;
And breaking news reporting of such is as much a crime as
living black.
Live streaming of First Amendment rights has been deemed
unacceptable
And will be dealt with as an aggregated affront against the
government;
Getting back to normal again has become the unleashing of
viral racism.
America boils,
The pot of death overflows;
Racist soup spilling…
Many rains ago,
Lynching blacks was quite normal;
Today, it still is…
The lessons of today’s liberation struggle
Must not be viewed as a virtual surrealism
But clearly realized that it’s graduation time
And all must strive to be valedictorians
Least we all will fail to cross the live stage;
Yes, we hued ones are all in this mess together
And anyone of us could be next victim, even you!
Oh, give me a home where everyone is free to roam,
sharing hugs and kisses with family and friends
Where there's nothing to fear 'neath the capitol dome
And my combatant countrymen have made amends
I want incivility to stop, ending the bitter hostility
Brother vs brother, hating each other with animosity
It's a misnomer to call ourselves "The United States"
when any topic discussed turns into chaotic debates
I desire a state of well-being; a country free of ill-health
Life is more important, compared to any material wealth
When did belligerence become accepted by so many?
What happened to smiles we wore? I no longer see any
If it were possible, I would paint everyone in a sepia hue
No blacks or whites; color would no longer have value
Medicine would not come with side effects that could kill
America would be great again because of man's goodwill
Freedom would belong to each man, woman, and child
We would respect nature and protect animals in the wild
Americans would live together in harmony; honor bound
Proud of our homeland, and once again world renowned
I long to see the U. S. have representatives who care
about our beautiful country, and keep oaths they swear
I want Old Glory to fly high, not used in domestic battle
dishonored by rioters, stampeding like a herd of cattle
Arguing over who's at fault has only brought us shame
What good are words and fingers pointing out the blame
I'm ready to move on and it's my hope that you are, too
Americans, remember what John Kennedy asked of you
* * * * * * *
March 9, 2021
What You Really Want Contest
Sponsored by Richard Lamoureux
The Pride of a Woman
The image of cruel could not conquer,
While an alienated air could not imitate,
Like the alpha filled with amber
Of the whispering of the wind,
We whose wealth we wish like worn wolf.
Hour? cruel and human heart is bitty-bitty,
The cruel stood forth hand in anger,
Like the white against blacks.
The pride of a woman,
Black women face agony of wrath
And especial agony of motherhood.
The pride of a woman,
African women face the race of rewarded.
Grace,
The tear of infertility behaved like sword
Of chanting trees.
The pride,
British women wandering for fame
Whose fame end up in flames of blame,
A regretting rain,
Like a winnable hour.
The pride of a woman,
Women of fate find face at the end of grace,
Even in the midst of beheaded sword.
The pride of a woman,
Like the [saw] island in the midst of [raced] river.
A tremor of war in cave,
And in thing which is no autism,
Tears.
The pride of a woman.
Being Black is a race.
A race against time
A race from the police
A race from racism
A race from ourselves
A race from poverty, drugs and abuse
A race within our race against our own kind, to stop the violence and the murders, a race to stop the crime.
Being Black you will find yourself running a race that you will race one way or another.
Being Black is a race that you will face.
A race from discrimination and segregation
A race to know
A race to grow
A race to succeed, to accomplish, to out do
A race to prove, to be accepted
A race to be respected
A race to be reckoned with
Being Black is a race within a race.
Being Black is a race they don’t want to be, but they want to copy, emulate and duplicate. Some people are intimidated just by us being Black, because now our skin color has the Power. But they too have the Power, they been had the Power, and now that we have the same Power they have, it’s a problem.
For many, many years Black has been depicted as dark, depressing, dirty, sadness, unworthy, horror, fear, wicked, evil, death… The wicked witch wore black, at funerals people wore black because that was a time of sadness. It appeared as Blacks, we were cheap, we were poor, we wanted something for free, always looked for a handout, we wanted something marked down or taken off, or “go get yo manager.”
That’s not all Blacks. Truth be told, every race loves discounts, sales and markdowns. But why call it “Black Friday” when things are “cheap?” Why not call it Blue, Purple or Green Friday? Just saying.
Oooh but WOW, what a difference! This “Black” thing has taken a turn and look at how Black has changed.
Black symbolizes Empowerment (always did)
Black is of Excellence
Black is Beautiful (always been)
Black is Dominance
Black is Luxury
Black is Elegance
Black has a higher meaning and is of an even higher standard.
Yes, higher than high.
Do you know what it means to have a “Black” Card in today’s society?
Oh you made it big big if you got a “Black” Card.
Anyway, while you run your race (at your own pace), embrace being Black.
Thinking there was something going wrong,
It was situation of praise.
Something that couldn`t let black communities be on craze,
But emotionally, puts smile on the entire world face.
Urging and expanding the number of observers through unfailing phase.
On the street, I see passers who are all blacks,
They push heavy goods in their own cars.
Goods that are made out of faith.
That gives much thought of what motivations can enable their descendants create.
Though partiality have always been their fate,
Their concentration always pays them to be great.
They`ve proven the world wrong till date.
Making them that thought to be wise, now wish for a black man to be their mate.
But since yesterday is passed in haste,
Men wearing black skin have to tell them it`s late.
Because they refused to wait.
Black men live in happier days.
Decorated with perpetual age.
The aspiration which human effort can`t make.
It means a lot to tell about black genes.
Yes, in this walk with black skins.
Where we meet ourselves in fame and peace.
Black skin doesn`t show any sign of its carriers to be least.
Identifying the race of black indigenes,
Nature adores everything about black men in all regions.
Before us do we see billions of Africans and black indies,
Behind and beside us are enormous of ******* and carrebians.
Strong in their thinking faculty.
Beautiful in society.
Since black skin elaborates uniquely on beauty,
It’s really exponential concerning its potency.
Time after time, black skin is maintained in decency.
Who dares to replace the charming appearance of black skin with any bleaching colourant?
Very funny to everyone who knows about the consequence it brings.
How sad it is for they that choose to buy bleaching cream for reformat,
And to them who swallow bleaching substance as their main drinks.
I`m sorry, this can`t lay on your table a vitality dish,
This can`t provide for you the charming look of your wish.
At every point of time, the sun and the moon reveals how precious black skin protects the body from deadly infections and unfriendly weather conditions.
If black man stands in front of a mirror, the mirror opens its heart with a lively intention,
Only to praise the outstanding blink of black skin out of superimposed imagination.
A REQUIEM FOR HANDS FREE AT LAST
“Oh death where is thy sting;
Oh grave where is thy victory?”
Death’s stinging victory
is alive and well
in this land of Black America—
My country’s tears
from you and me swelling
rivers of flowing grief—self evidence
that the only democracy Blacks will see
is in the equanimity of death—Death,
the common denominator
ensuring freedom at last in the streets
of home.
Where we were once invisible,
today it’s only our hands—
Hands no longer to rock cradles
Stilled in juxtaposition to the graves
of those indeed free at last;
hands no longer to embrace
in giving hugs of love—
Hands no longer to clasp
in prayers of thanksgiving.
Now we must ever ponder
taking care in what we wish
in question as we sojourn the streets
of life in the home of the brave
and the land of the free.
“Give me liberty or give me death…”
has gained a pre-ordained response:
Affirmative in the ‘or’—Assuring
freedom at last—Death makes
no distinctions—At least hands-wise.
In the house it is dry and warm, but in the fields snowflakes fall and form.
The winter air, wet and cold, on cotton stalks they find a hold.
They play together, white on black, clinging in a pile on an old cotton sack.
All up and down the wet gravel road, rocks start to hide under the white snowy load.
We sit together around the warm wood heat, sitting our chairs with straddling feet.
Grandmother wrapped in an old bedspread, holds a little baby, sleepy but fed.
Over in the corner where the big box stood, we stack up kindling and a cord of wood.
Around the radio we sit together and listen to the opera, news and weather.
The light of day turns to night, the moon shines down on fields of white.
I walk the path where feet had trudged with a dim flashlight, muck and mud,
takes me down to the out- house shack, do my business and hurry back.
We sit by the heater where the fire-light trace, the flickering light on Grandpa's face.
So, I make my nest in the warm feathered bed with cover pulled up over my little toe head,
saying my prayer before I sleep, asking the “Good Lord,” for my soul to keep.
We wake in the morning to a snow covered day, “Keep the doors closed,” I heard them say.
We go to town in a ragged pick-up truck, slide down the road in the snow and muck.
Down at the store we warm our backs, gather around the heater both white and blacks
Buy a grape soda with a five- cent piece, load up flour and a can of grease.
As night comes around, we do our choirs bring in wood from out of doors,
Sitting together around the heater to warm our feet, listen to the radio before we sleep.