Long Dark skinned Poems
Long Dark skinned Poems. Below are the most popular long Dark skinned by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Dark skinned poems by poem length and keyword.
My dad fell head over heels in love with my mom during their college years. Mom was a petite, a dark haired, dark skinned little angel would could warble a song like none other, with a smile that earned her the name, Sunshine! Her real name? Angel! He was a tall, handsome, fair-skinned, bearded man from a far off land named Persia. He spoke no Arabic. She spoke no Farsi or Armenian, though her father was Armenian. The very first words she ever said to him were, “Are you alright?” when he was thrown off the maintenance truck, probably because he was staring at her and not holding on. They fell madly in love…..Only later….later did they discover that she was 10 years his senior. She looked much younger. He looked much older, and this was the Middle East where age MATTERS.
A strange twist of fate
My love not defined by years
Why should it matter?
She broke up with him and she broke her own heart in so doing. He tried to stay away. Not only was she older, she was part Arab, and his mother would NEVER approve. Armenians married Armenians. If they did not do so, the race would die out. She threatened him in a letter. “If you marry that Arab, you are no longer my son!”
Forbidden…your love
My heart in state of turmoil
Family demands
The age difference was a chasm that was impossible to cross….but he loved her. He adored her…her smile…her tender heart...her beautiful voice. He begged her to come back to him. “I cannot live without you.” She had been longing to hear those words. They married, and everyone named them….the love birds. When Mom got sick with MS, it was Dad who cared for her, who wouldn't put her in a home, who shed tears for the woman who had borne him three children and had been a support to him during his years of administrative and pastoral work in Iran. He bathed her, brushed her teeth, combed her hair, changed her soiled clothes, took her for rides…the only time she felt free! He carried her down three flights of stars on his back when he had to rush to the bomb shelter….Don’t tell me love is bound to age! NONSENSE! I've seen with my own eyes…a love that defies all odds…and remains strong…to the gates of death.
My Angel is gone
The sweetest joy of my life
When you were my wife
Eileen Manassian Ghali
I cannot forget Trayvon Martin - slain teen
no matter manifold more young people
unthinkingly killed, who spirits aspire
to ascend higher than a steeple.
revisited and slightly revised today
March 14th, 2021.
One deliberate shameful death,
whose demise linkedin
violent cessation of breath
thank heavy gun wielding hand
innocuous thug disguised
as armed neighborhood watch
firearm brandished
as weapon of choice.
Once again rifling thru outdated drafts,
I unwittingly repost grievous bulletin
that made headlines nine plus years ago,
an innocent lad received fatal shot
into said unarmed teenager's chest
according to testimony
courtesy Doctor Vincent Di Maio.
Memory of aforementioned crime
relegated to dustbin of criminal minds
whereby dime a dozen killings
(nowadays barely register shock)
countless young persons
genetically bequeathed with
healthy dose of melanin
gunned down during their prime.
George Zimmerman (then age 28)
ought to be pitched into the
alligator and crocodile infested Everglade
for his senseless killing (outright murder)
of Trayvon Martin slammed
as involved some illicit wick kid trade
(a slender African American
more precisely youth flush with color
only 17 years young -
(birthdate - February 5th, 1995
death date - February 26th, 2012),
whose martyrdom grows
as days/weeks fade
an exemplary gregarious helpmate
swimming against the tide
to make the grade
now slain while just a youth -
the unfounded killing
by a neighborhood watch volunteer,
who felt afraid
that this dark skinned young man
appeared suspicious pulled the trigger
with comeuppance to be paid
though -- no retribution can restore
lifeless body, still
agitated waters nor offer shade
from the justifiable media frenzy
sparked from Geraldo Rivera made
even with unanimous
approval of guillotine blade
for violence cannot only rejuvenate
a promising future
evinced by Trayvon Martin
reincarnated into tree or leaf blade
but only serves to beget subsequent
violence now unto his grave
said teenager laid!
I am Africa, the cradle of mankind,
Where ancient footprints in the sands of time entwined,
The birthplace of humanity, divinely designed,
In my esteemed valleys, where life first aligned.
I am Africa, the cradle of civilization,
Where mighty empires rose with determination,
From the ancient Egypt's pyramids to the Great Zimbabwe walls,
From glorious Mali Empire to Kingdom of Kush, history recalls.
I am Africa, adorned with wonders untold,
From Victoria Falls, a sight to behold,
To the Serengeti, the great wildlife migration known,
The winding Nile River, nature's masterpiece shown.
I am Africa, land of majestic savannas,
Where lion roars and elephant wanders,
From Kilimanjaro's peak to the Rift Valley's floor,
Nature's grandeur timelessly spectacular, evermore.
I am Africa, rich in resources so rare,
From Congo's minerals beyond compare,
To Ghana's gold gleaming bright,
And Nigeria's oil, a source of might.
I am Africa, richly endowed with resources untold,
Diamonds, platinum, copper, and tantalum behold,
I offer fertile soils and abundant rainfall,
To sustain life's rhythm, from the great to the small.
I am Africa, proudly dark-skinned and beautiful,
Melanin-rich, skin kissed by the sun, dutiful,
From the Maasai warriors to the Zulu kings,
Cultures and values that makes a heart sings.
I am Africa, scarred by the slave trade's hand,
As ships sailed away with souls from my land,
The Atlantic's cruel passage, a harrowing tale,
Yet from that dark chapter, my resilience did prevail.
I am Africa, the sleeping lion now awake,
To reclaim my glory, no more to forsake,
I stand tall against any disdain, my destiny to behold,
Socially strong, economically stable, politically bold.
I am Africa, acknowledging and ready to confront my flaws,
To root out corruption and greed, oppressive laws,
United in accountability, good governance, equity, and might,
I march forward with determination, embracing the future's light.
In an unkept place beyond anyone's watchful care lay vessels which carried the powerful blood of a forgotten people.
So strong and powerful, their very presence brought fear and panic to an entire race of people who believe dominance is theirs.
Underneath the 'ole' shade tree lay weather beaten slats of wood proof of a cultures existence.
A dark skinned people whose lives were valued less than that old hunting dog licking his colored masters wounds.
No names, memories, or accomplishments nothing at all except dated brittle epitaphs marking their era of life.
Dusty black Hebrew Israelite feet and cracked aged hands lay in those hallowed tombs-their names mattered to no one.
Shoeless black feet trod and stood in places I have never known and will never see yet, their strength is who I am.
Their proof of toiling in cotton fields beneath the scorching sun washing white folks cloths hanging them on the line to dry.
Same precious hands held offspring not their image that suckled the rich milk from the breast of the woman in the unkept dark place.
Let's not forget the shoulders which rocked the weight of misses churin' to sleep as if they were her own.
The unkept places off the beaten path lay the blood of the forgotten dark people.
Although I am a ***** white Queen
let me reassure you
I can be just as mean
or as green,
Mr. Clean,
as any fascist
conjured in your wildest
wettest dream.
I can kick my ruby RightWing heels
and hold my greenly skanky breath
as long as it takes, tis true,
until you eventually agree
to turn less boring white
and unenlightened blue
It's true,
I can spread my fascist net,
get in line with Straight White Men
with penile envy
of dark-skinned vets
you never could acknowledge seeing
in the singing shower
much less slurping
in your homophobic panic
nastiest place to hide
just yet.
Although a ***** male Queen
married to the blackest man
you've ever seen,
You may rest re-assured
I've clearly found it true
as red
white
and blushing blue:
Once a person
and a nation
has tried black,
There's a whole lotta happy folk
don't care to go back
to refight a civil war
against a white flight bully bore
Supremely self-chosen evangelists,
y'all just help me
deeply snore.
You think
and feel,
know
and spiel,
I'm rotten to my core
because, like your sissy sister
it's men this male adores
But, if men were good enough
for your sainted mother,
and hers too,
and my two,
let me introduce this thought
to you
It wouldn't really make you
all that blue
to admit just maybe
all that pleasure
could suit a special man just fine
too,
But, don't worry,
be happy,
I'm not the least bit hot
for white bread
RightWing you.
Rejected child of the Republic of Enlightenment,
In the land of human rights, my Africanness is a handicap.
In their eyes, I will always be the scapegoat for their failures.
I fled the tyranny of a banana republic chained to Françafrique.
Marianne still demands that I assimilate despite centuries of slavery and colonization.
Her negrophobia has become a silent bomb.
I am not allowed to complain at every police brutality.
The colonial pact dehumanized me on my native soil.
I discovered the face of racial hatred while crossing the Mediterranean.
I saw the West plunder the riches of my continent, traumatized by its democracy.
My sentence is to have skin overloaded with melanin.
I was born a Catholic Christian, like the children of slaves whipped in the slave plantations of the Caribbean.
My criminal record is as virgin as the womb of Christ’s mother.
But my humanity is demonized on the altar of capitalism.
Western supremacists do not want me to leaf through the black pages of their history.
Their racist hostility will never prevent me from being a good man.
They brandished the Bible to reduce my ancestors to slavery.
Today they brandish immigration to persecute me.
I did not choose to have black skin.
If I had had the choice, I would have asked the universal force to add even more melanin to my epidermis.
I am proud to wear the color of the Pharaohs when I spit on their prophets and their curses.
I have never walked with my head down, not even in the arms of promiscuity.
The cruelty of these racist supremacists has made me lucid and grim.
If every dark-skinned person had my character, my people would no longer carry the burdens of slavery and colonization.
Negrophobes would face men of extreme awareness.
I will never be the doormat trampled under the feet of supremacists.
I hate racists with all my heart and all my strength.
#African_melanin
From a distance, I was captured, in me a flame lit, curiosity stroke my urge, in my body, suspense strangled me, dying of heat, waiting to be quenched of my yearned thirst,
a chocolate pigment, velvet and silk in one cloth,
I see what nature never allowed me glimpse into, maybe I lived in denial, for I chose not to go for dark skinned, until I couldn't balance myself anymore in this frame that carries my skin, African melanin
I call for the old and wise, something in me was never aligned well from my infancy, I need African roots in me to be transparent now, my story acquires undiscovered tracks, I'm in African eyes, feel found, I didn't know I was lost, hear my bones stretching, awakening the Africa in me, African melanin
I stare not behind, for I'm inevitably fixed to what's in front of me, a focus with my heart long missing puzzles, I wanna say Africa in you I was discovered but this African royalty before me, chokes expressions out of my mind, a melanin,
one day this world shall meet you and see why I couldn't name you, I fear for the eye which shall discover this treasures wrapped inside your melanin, I fear for the heart which shall fall from your beauty edges,
maybe I'm just a coward that fear has found hiding spot in but I'm certain of my discoveries, your ***** rarity,
mesmerized with echoes, my pulse lose its skipping turns, please catch me, before I lose even my mind too, inside this maze of your melanin, African melanin
You see all of these protesters out
chanting and screeching on the TV,
convinced that we’ll solve all our problems
Ii we just get rid of the police.
They claim that they’re targeting people
merely of the color of their skin,
though by the per capita numbers
whites and Latinos tak it one the chin.
But they keep screaming about privilege
in a strangely religious fervor,
and use it as a helpful excuse
to release all their pent-up anger.
But when it comes to dark-skinned people,
whose interests they claim to pursue,
they all proclaim that ‘Black Lives Matter,’
but they sure don’t’ act as if they do.
First let’s look at all the businesses
that the rioters torched and destroyed,
they were mostly in inner cities,
so the end result we can’t avoid
is that the people they claim to help
were the same people who worked those stores,
which means countless folks with much melanin
won’t have productive jobs anymore.
Their own siblings, mothers, and fathers
bow have no method to bring in cash.
Basically, their lives have been ruined,
I wonder did they care about that?
Did looters realize that their actions
would make their communities much worse?
they all proclaim that ‘Black Lives Matter’
…except for those they put out of work.
And then there is the late David Dorn,
a dark-skinned grandfather, former cop,
who saw the evil burning his town
and went outside to protect the block,
hoping to provide security
for the pawn business of a good friend.
For wanting to protect his hard work
vile looters brought him to his end.
But strangely you do not hear his tale
when you watched the evening news at night,
the rioters get interference
but a good man’s death is not in sight.
Not one of these damn ideologues
care that a hero’s life now is done,
I guess that black life didn’t matter,
since his narrative was the ‘wrong’ one...
CONCLUDES IN PART II.
What is a person's value?
What is their worth?
Can it be based solely
On what is found in their empty purse?
Can that one missing emptiness...
Take away a person's pride?
Can it belittle,
The entire worth of their life?
Is there some value
In the light in their eyes?
Is there some value
for the past loves of their life?
Is there some value
In the all the books that they've read?
The knowledge that they've imparted
The words that they've said?
Do they get credit
For the beauty that they've seen
Painter of paintings
Dreamer of dreams.
Taker of photographs
Creator of life
Mother of children
Lover of life.
Lover of wisdom, of knowledge, of men
Friend to all people, both dark-skinned and light
Lover of humans
Meets all with delight.
Lover of all things
Both known and unseen
Champion of causes, of persons, ideals
Believes in the future, values every meal.
Is there some value
To someone who really loves life
Whose laughter fills every day
In spite of their strife?
To someone who looks to the heavens
Always amazed
Someone who has pondered the moon
And watched it go through its phase.
To someone who has held the earth in their hands
Who has felt the sun on their face
Who is raising their own children
Who puts on a brave face.
What is the value
Of one who has financially hit a wall
Who has often sat here and pondered
And tried to make sense of it all.
What is my Value?
What is my Worth?
Will I be valued solely
By what is contained in my purse?
Copyright Christine A. Kysely November 9, 2010
(c) Copyright 2010 by Christine A Kysely, All Rights Reserved
The Atheist believes in Rationality
He mocks all religious emotionality
Calls it the opiate of the masses, pie-in-the-sky
The snake oil of sinister ministers, insidiously sly
Whereas Human Reason, the Atheist confidently opines
Leads man -- become god -- to outcomes supreme and sublime
Yet this very 'Reason' has provided justification
For centuries of inhuman horror and abomination
The 'great civilizations' of Greece and Rome left 'imperfect babies' to die
Abandoning them upon birth on rocky mountain-sides ...
'Scientific theories' of dark-skinned peoples' inferiority
of Caucasion superiority, led inexorably to humiliation and slavery ...
While millions of innocent people died all too recently
At the hands of Stalin and Mao, among other atheists, so brutally ...
It was 'reason' that led Adolf Hitler to conveive mass murder via gassing
in showers which 'facilitated' six million Jews,' he labeled 'vermin,' passing
So, regarding the Atheist, the facts are quite clear
~ His 'rationality' does not consider human life to be dear
Entry in "The atheist" poetry contest
Sponsor: Anthony Slausen