It is no secret!
That this country is still racist,
White, Black, Yellow, Brown and Red.
When all we see is colored faces!
For most our ignorance’s,
conjure illusions were not racist.
While some masquerade
in an attempt to misguide!
Some parade to protest
with riot in disguise!
Every day! Every day! Every day!
We display racism toward others,
we deem difference than,
by how we think,
transferring thoughts into behavior.
Racism is everywhere!
It is at work,
it is at school,
it is on TV,
and all over the news.
It is podcast on the radio
and on social media too!
It is all around us,
it surrounds us!
We project around with no realization,
that were all racist,
simply by our own fears,
emotions, and actions.
As stereotypical individuals,
whose attitude reflects it,
were just too judgmental
of others to recognize it.
Our own mystery
is no secret,
that we are racist too!
au pair’s red tooth and claw turnkey’s bloody havoc hatchet the cold wind within insanities halls like fat ravens in a tree the fascists away from clashing kitchen nurse Ratchet
I was told that because I'm a girl,
its unusual to play video games,
its unusual to like comics ,
because I'm a girl its unusual for me to prefer to talk about cars rather than make-up and manicures,
then finally someone asked "Why are you not like the other girls?"
a sigh of relief escaped my mouth as the weight of being told what I can and cannot like was lifted off my shoulders,
I exclaimed the long waited words of "Because I'm not your stereotypical girl"
I love comics,
I love video games and yes I would rather talk about cars,
but don't get me wrong I love doing make-up to and being a make-up artist for TV and theatre is my dream,
but I don't have to surround my self with everything cute and pink to say I'm a girl,
I am me,
I am unique,
and I'm not afraid for you to know.
A male
A Black male
A thug, a gangsta
pants sagging
stupid swagging
And that's exactly what people think I am:
stupid.
But I break the mold.
When people hear my voice
without seeing my face,
When people see my words
in letters, on screens
what race do they think I am?
But I break the mold.
Colloquialism
I don't use it.
My speech is cool
calm, pure, correct.
Just like me.
Do you know why?
Because, I break the mold.
Ebonics
Ebony and Phonics
Black English
Break away from that slave mentality.
"You talk like you white."
No, I speak English.
I break the mold.
I'm tired of being defined
By the jagged lines
That line my eyes
I'm tired of being based
On blackened hair
That hides my face
I'm tired of people scanning arms
Searching for bloody marks
That are long gone
I'm tired of people standing there
Waiting for the knife
To reappear
Under the blackened spell of dawn
Gaze upon what I've become
Through the sunlight that lights my arms
You can clearly see these whitened scars
Give me five minutes of your time.
I have this knack,
a gift, really.
I can instantly confirm all
your fears about me,
distil your deepest, darkest
nightmares;
absorb them, embody them,
wrap them up as a present,
hold it up for you to see,
You'll know it's all true,
the bad press.
My preceding reputation,
a dark winged bat flown from a hell of
legendary fables.
Some real, some lies;
what's the difference?
Think the worst.
I'll ratify it,
quantify it for you,
no problem;
live my mythology before
your very eyes,
be what your preconceived mind
expects I should be.
By now it's second nature.
It's nothing, really,
no, really,
it isn't.
Mostly I'm unaware
I'm doing it.
Sad, inspired, or what?
Give me five minutes of your time...