Grandmother Racism Poems

As I listen to the stories my grandmother told
The tears I cry are heavy to hold
I wish I could tell my grandmother things have changed
But...

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Within the frame a sepia scene
a dusty porch   a rickety chair   
the fabric of your dusky face creased
with ceaseless sunbaked woes
your...

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If you are paranoid and you see the cops give you the eye
Run like a cougar. 
Run like the wind,
and do not look back.

If you...

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Palm trees and ocean breeze heavenly received by this pasty white 
northern teen. On the drive to grandma's snowbird roost she points 
out a black...

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Never met my Nana...
She died before my birth
Always wished to meet her,
And all that she was worth.

The most beautiful woman
I’ve ever viewed in snaps,
Undeniably strong...

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Healing Win/Lose EgoNomial Intent

We belong together
Through all kinds of colonizing corporate weather,
We belong creolizing together.

So sings my mitochondrial DNA
when I listen deeply
to all prior matriarchal...

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My wheat ringlets 
join my grandmother's thick dark hair 
— incompatible 
to those who throw stones 
and call me "white Indian"...

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Klacatoo – Translation of Kevin Gilbert ‘s « Klacatoo » by T. Wignesan

On nous avait coincé sur la rive de Lachlan
un endroit qui s’appelle Klacatoo
là...

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Never did I see her worrying, sighing, or crying.
She was born in 1888; already 61 when I was born.
Her country was clearly wearied, wounded, and...

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When I met her , a very old lady she was , yet inside lay a frightened child .
I felt my heart cry , I...

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