Long Interracial Poems
Long Interracial Poems. Below are the most popular long Interracial by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Interracial poems by poem length and keyword.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Then, Janis Joplin’s vinyl tunes sparked a revolution,
Haight-Ashbury, hippie hub, and grass-roots counterculture
buzzed with societal change~
Today, algorithms and funded resistance~
secretly funded, fabricated revolutions
unfolding with merely a thumb scroll.
'Likes' accumulate like manifestos, mostly unread.
Then draft cards burned in courageous hands
sit-ins at Woolworth’s counters,
acts of interracial courage,
swallowed by journalists’ flashbulbs.
Now, hashtags appear like bruises,
justice fading into trending threads.
Then the moon hung like a promise~
we touched it with slide rules and hope.
Now, the sky’s a graveyard of satellites,
and Mars glows redder than the forgotten button.
The times? Still a ‘Changin~
just faster and louder,
yet somehow quieter.
you may read the related memoir vignette at: poetrysoup.com/short_stories/the_september_wind_13646
Deep down she was a hopeless romantic
Masked with hate because she thought she couldn't have it
After all she was a black woman
When she asked the world for love it laughed at her
It's why she gave up, a story so tragic
Growing up in a world where white was the beauty standard
And being black was considered unattractive
It's why she hated herself
Why she couldn't stand the mirror
Why she couldn't look in it
Her reflection was a vessel for the world's racism
Telling her love was for those who had pretty privilege
That love was for people who had a different lineage
Those who were white and had the perfect 'image'
The only 'love' she had know was fetisisation
That the only attention she would receive
Were from men who envisioned her naked
Ones who were cowards
Who couldn't look in her eyes
But would gladly stare at cleavage
It didn't help that being black and having a body
Meant that people automatically assumed
You were for everybody
But when she started getting compliments
From men who didn't have ulterior motives
She felt it was a joke and then they would tell their friends
That they had got with a black woman
She was untrusting
But what did they expect
When the world has taught black women that love was not made for them
But when she was wanted she felt confident
Especially when they asked her parents
To take her out
She loved old school gentlemen
After all those years of poor self image
And the times she would get in her own head
She decided She wouldn't self sabotage
And she would finally let love into her heart
White donkey had much love and heartfelt affection to give
His most special intergalactic friend was a cat named Liv.
Without any problem, Whitey and Liv agreed on everything,
Best of all, they discovered they both could sing.
Whitey would bray, and Liv would meow in the night.
They would cuddle up together, a glorious interracial sight.
They were the best of friends for twenty years or more.
Thirty even maybe, and this is truly no folklore.
There they go, Farmer Henry said to Louella, his corpulent wife.
I wish the other animals would show such a lack of strife.
Let’s have them give seminars to the others, out in the barn.
So Liv and Whitey did, and it worked like a charm.
The chickens and sheep began to lay with each other.
The puppy took a cow to be his adoptive mother.
The cow cuddled up with the rooster so thick.
The seminar by the two had truly done the trick!
Meet the happy couple
That's Hilda all in white
Barney's there beside her
Loves her with all his might
They're an interracial couple
No problem nowadays
Frowned on not too long ago
But today it's a-okay
Met at the local horse saloon
Frequented by the equine crowd
She was a pretty show horse
He was boisterous and loud
Pretty soon, she tamed him
Settled him down just fine
Any filly would be proud to say
That stud over there is mine
Soon, a couple of months go by
Hilda's expecting a son
The happy couple race around
High hoof-ing everyone
Had a colt, called him Clyde
So proud of their little guy
Running through peaceful pastures
Then off to the clouds, they fly
You can see this happy trio at night
When you view the evening sky
The three stars south of Orion
Are Barney, Hilda and Clyde
I have watched with sorrow,
the tragedy of love turned into a hierarchy of colour.
When a black soul marries white,
it is called progress —
but only by those who still see whiteness as divine.
You, black child,
have been taught to hate your reflection,
to see validation only through pale eyes.
When you love yourself, they call it arrogance.
When you seek their love, they call it ambition.
Such is the madness of a divided world.
On the dating screens of modern Rome,
black faces are swiped away like dust,
while white faces glow with borrowed grace.
Even among your own,
the lighter skin calls itself superior —
a mimicry of old masters and new slaves.
This poison was crafted by hands
that divided God’s image by shade and geography.
They crowned ignorance as civilization.
But love was never meant to serve the market of complexion.
Black blood carries the seed of endurance,
the rhythm that sustains the Earth’s breath.
One day, when the African looks in the mirror
and sees not pain but power,
the world will kneel again — not in worship,
but in respect.
I know so little of this theory, so
I go to Wikipedia. No help!
I'm reading how it stems from Marxism, and
the struggle of the classes throughout time.
So next I search for tenents of this theory.
In doing so, I'm finding things like this:
how White Supremacy will always reign,
so students need to learn of "action" civics
instead of civics taught traditionally.
I look up "active civics" and find words
like "civil protest" (also "violence").
I find opposing views of it which state
that in the schools today they're teaching hate!
I see some parents now sometimes on Facebook
dismayed that basic civics is ignored.
Our processes called constitutional
are being put behind this "action civics."
I think about the violence I've been seeing
and of old monuments that are torn down;
police, so sorely needed, now defunded;
the silliness getting rid of slogans
deemed racial slurs; the censorship of books
like certain ones by author Dr. Seuss!
I know the process of the Constitution
has not been too great; rights were slowly won.
The problem -as I see it - was the fact
of individual prejudices.
Eventually, after freedom's decades
(the fight for Civil Rights 50's through 60's)
and since our culture then became accepting
of gays, we saw laws made to turn the tide!
I think I must agree with parents who
have great concern about curriculum.
I know discrimination still exists,
but we have seen great strides since Rosa Parks.
I do not like where I can see us heading.
I'm reading quotes of blacks who feel the same.
Today are many interracial couples.
In thirty years from now, we'll all be brown!!
Let cultural awareness take the helm.
Teach love -not hate - and leave our kids alone.
July 18, 2021
for Anthony Biaanco's Critical Race Theory Poetry Contest
Meet the happy couple
That's Hilda all in white
Barney's there beside her
Loves her with all his might
They're an interracial couple
No problem nowadays
Frowned on not too long ago
But today it's a-okay
Met at the local horse saloon
Frequented by the equine crowd
She was a pretty show horse
He was boisterous and loud
Pretty soon, she tamed him
Settled him down just fine
Any filly would be proud to say
That stud over there is mine
Soon, a couple of months go by
Hilda's expecting a son
The happy couple race around
High hoof-ing everyone
Had a colt, called him Clyde
So proud of their little guy
Running through peaceful pastures
Then off to the clouds they fly
You can see this happy couple at night
When you view the evening sky
The three stars south of Orion
Are Barney, Hilda and Clyde
© Jack Ellison 2012
38.4154017°, -76.5341214°
A waterwheel, raceway, grinding stones (bedstone and runner stone), gears, shafts, and a hopper for grain, Diet. The crested honey buzzard is a specialist feeder, living mainly on the larvae of social bees and wasps, and eating bits of comb and honey(qilaat)Inuit The People at Funks Pond.Analog-to-digital conversion.absolute event.a combination of shutter speed aperture
that determines the amount of light reaching the camera's sensor. manufactured by Kurtis Kraft in 1949 and 1950.Punganur Made cars and had a Milling Mill on the Creek. in the 1930's they built Sports cars and sold hovercrafts in the 1933 the sold shares of there company to the public. They became famous when the wife woman began infusing honey with vanilla beans:infused honey is made by adding whole Vanilla Beans to our raw and unfiltered honey. It's a perfect balance of sweet and vanilla taste.They shut down the company
and moved all the equipment to an undisclosed place Selling the Motor Company to Frank Muntez
Expenditures/costs negotiated/spent before filming begins, including source material rights (for adaptations) and salaries for director, producer screenwriter, and actors.
Whammy Bar ( Little Black Egg.....)
Funks Pond(revamp)
(RUMOR HAS IT) Ernest T. Bass was involved in an interracial relationship with black model Donyale Luna_ they had a child in 1967 he never recognized the child. In 2001 his unrecognized granddaughter began tossing stones at a Mall in Mississauga Canada. It was said she was sing "The Creeks to Dry" skip along in bootie shorts, a white tee shirt and a sleeveless blue jean vest. It was said that she had large beetle bugs in her purse. Crazy! Crazy! Crazy!)
Written By: Pro.Tuum Proximus Maritus
and Doctor Uxor Eius Est
of Wobble Board Fame Inc.
Red Cow Music and Lyric Company
British White Recording Academy
Belgium Blue Sound Prep Inc.
all Produced and Ex-Produced
By Black Angus "Jumpan-Pumpin"
with permission by Star Anise Leather Co. LLC
Copyright Pending
Patent approved
"Cheezey-greazy sour Dill
with Yeasty rolls: Man thats
deliisous!"
Written By:
Huba Datl Chol
Circa 1969
Revised the other day(2023)
You need a smart phone to get your number.
Take a picture of the square with the code,
answer the text message, “yes I am here”.
My number D106, better take a seat.
The interracial gay couple next to me, are awfully
grabby for 8:45 am, just mind your own business.
But, why doesn’t the white guy have any shoes on,
and why just socks, that when purchased were probably white.
Now serving D100
The rather large lady to my left requires two seats.
Whats the deal with women and tights and what’s is
the largest size available, in purple?
Her perfume choice, ode to yesterday’s cigarettes.
Now serving D101
Mr, I work for the highway department, walks buy and takes a seat.
Neon yellow shirt and jeans say, we were washed four or
five days ago and worn everyday since.
Presumably his wife, who doesn’t do laundry often, sits beside him.
Now serving D102
Two Asian men enter followed by a teenager, maybe a son.
He reads the billboard and explains the process.
Both men remove their phones and follow his instructions.
Three seat together is going to be hard to find.
Now serving D103
Across the way, a family of four, teenage daughter wearing pjs.
A Halloween motif with Michael Myer’s masked face.
Since it’s only mid September, aren’t we rushing the season a bit?
Then again, given the black lipstick and nail polish, maybe not.
Now seeing D104
Now, the shoeless gay guy gets up and jumps at the ceiling.
He’s trying to remove the cobweb hanging in front of the monitor.
Nice try, but at maybe 5’5”, LeBron James he is not.
His partner urges him to return to his seat.
Now serving D105
You know they sent you a notice: Renew by mail.
It even allowed you to do it on line, save a stamp.
But no, the picture was out of date, nearly eight years ago.
So here your sarcastic ass sits.
Now serving D106 “Thank the Lord!”
She’s behind the glass, the remnants of Covid.
Her lips are moving, but no sound is coming through.
I point to my ears and shrug. She increases her volume.
Yes, wish to renew my drivers license.
Sign the application where highlighted and $24.
Wow, 4 bucks cheaper in person, what a deal.
Picture taken, temporary printed, permanent in 30 days.
Outside finally and look down, what a horrible picture.
Footlights:The Joy of Being a Stand Up Comedian
The audience is getting their drinks,
And a silent hush falls, like a wave,on the crowd.
I know it's my moment to rise and shine,
Standing alone, facing a crowd, albeit totally unknown.
It's the most frightening moment of my
life, as perspiration runs down my back.
How can I make others laugh?
But it's quite easy you see,
I simply was taught to just be me,
With no jokes,and no corny lines to crack.
The audience and I, in close relationship.
Was the sweetest, biggest treat for me.
The short time passed oh, too quickly.
A magical kinship so very sweet,
That no heckler ever did I ever meet!
Comedy in the 70's was based on humor.
Not political destruction, nor filled with
obscenities we drown in today.
It was a total rush, for me!
Always with my heart pounding,
before they announced simply, me.
Afterwards, people asking for my autograph,
How sweet is that, I thought!
And the best part, ever?
Saying they would love to have a friend
Like me in their lives, forever.
Doing comedy, yes, a rush divinely complete!
Panagiota Romios
4/11/2019
Entry: My Amphetamine Contest
Anthony Slausin
Credits to my comedic mentors: Tom Dreisen and Tim Reid
(the first and last interracial comedy team.)
Plus the teachers and cast members at Second City Theatre,
Chicago, Illinois