Poetry Forum
Gerold Gyabaah
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all messages by user
9/20/2018 10:22:55 PM
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BLACK IS BEAUTY
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We may have the body of slaves But we have the heart of lions Our courage doesn't roar But speaks with a silent voice Dark bodies Sure, "blacks" they call us.
Proud of our astonishing beauty And our unending love and unity There's an energy, strain, wave connecting everyone Triumph of imagination over intelligence Yes! There's love that binds us Love and unity,our burning desire
The passion of hospitality runs through our veins BLACK IS our culture And BLACK is beautiful. edited by Gerold Gyabaah on 9/20/2018
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9/25/2018 2:09:19 AM
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BLACK IS BEAUTY
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superlativedeleted wrote:
I think this is a good draft. It definitely outlines the direction the author wishes to go in. The goal of the poem seems to be a reclaiming, an act of self-definition, a declaration of unity and humanity across time.
I think the first line should be examined carefully, as it does not refute the image of the black body as emblematic of slave-hood. Rather than redefine the metonym of the black body, it says "but..." and proceeds to list a litany of abstract, intangible qualities that seem to be an attempt to counterbalance, or excuse the reality of having the body of a slave. I think there is a stronger way to approach the topic.
I think the poem should refute the image of the black body as being emblematic of slave-hood, by grounding each of the abstract qualities listed in this draft with images of the black body. For example "The passion of our hospitality..." is a rich opportunity to delve into the topic of soul food, hands with dark skin stirring steaming pots, or steam from cooking at the skillet leaving a beautiful sheen on fingers. You could even extend the theme of black being beautiful to including the image of a cast iron skillet, how its dark skin creates magnificent food that holds communities together. You could have images of people hand in hand before dinner giving thanks together, etc... You could even go around the table describing each smile and how each person's skin is a little different, some a little more red, some more gold, some lighter, some darker, some new and smooth, others wrinkled and weathered, but all unified by the melanin they've inherited from their ancestors, etc...
There could be an image of a young black woman as valedictorian of her college giving a speech at graduation, and you could extend the metaphor as black as beautiful by emphasizing the black robes of educational achievement and excellence, etc...
"There's an energy, strain..." could be related as an image of protesters taking the wheel of democratic process in their hands, black lips speaking truth to power, her black skin more righteous than the black armor of white officers; the image of black as beautiful could be extended to the black roads that are the life-veins of civilization, etc...
There are lots of ways that you can use images of the black body to illustrate love,
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6/2/2020 10:23:27 PM
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I can't breathe
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I CAN'T BREATHE!
"I can't breathe please!!!!" A voice sobs in a mumble, begging in pain for his life.
Another black soul smothers, beneath a savage white knee. His rights traded for brutality, his freedom gone with the wind.
"Please! Please!" A man whimpers, in a voice that accentuates, a trembling flesh, a failing heart and a spirit drifting from the hands of life.
Come one!! , come all!! To the bank of Mississippi. For the river has puked another soul. Come oh!. Gather round Minneapolis, run to the shores of minnesota. For there's yet another willow shrub, dragged six feet-deep beneath the mud.
He is black and not of us, He is white, our very own. Bigotry has ruined our hearts. Blocking love's magic, just before it could start. The thread of tolerance, is in continuous wind off the spool of life.
Come all, mourn at the pyres and wail at the graves. Rise as one for true justice. Be not divided either by colour or by race. For we might into sight be of different hues, but it's no fallacy we emanate from a common spectrum.
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6/20/2020 5:14:34 PM
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I can't breathe
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I am very grateful Robert Mayy . Your comment warmed my heart.
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1/29/2021 9:27:03 PM
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A moment of silence
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A moment of silence. Join me, O mother earth As I whisper a prayer, For your son's stricken to death. By the invisible scythe of corona. (Covid-19)
Listen to the tunes Of these sorrowful strings All you far and near. For the names they hum Are of the lost brothers we held so dear.
Come, you all in your numbers Come with flowers to the graves Let us pay our last respect To the sailors washed down the vault By this viperous wave.
Heed the voices of the criers March in troupes to the pyres Mourn, oh brothers mourn For this novel COVID storm Has got our world broken and torn.
To mothers lost to panics and fears And fathers contorted with heavy tears. To children deprived of saying goodbyes, Before their lungs, murmured last sighs.
To our dear nurses, doctors, Volunteers and all frontline workers. To those risking their lives In order to save that of others.
To all isolated in despair, Wandering in exile from embrace and care Oh what comfort can I offer you?
To all who have suffered From loss and loneliness In these long painful days To all trapped in the claws of sullenness Seeking a million escaping ways We whisper for you a prayer.
We've seen your trials and heard your wails. Oh Sorry for your loss and the pain it entails.
We can't pray for you hard enough Or wish you well enough, But Our hearts are with you. These numbers of deceased Are losses for you and the world.
To you our brave warriors, who stood the vicious test And survived the pandemic and its frets Accept these words I mutter As insignias for your bravery.
It may never be like it used to be But sow your hope in the skies and give this glorious life another try. From the midst of these chaotic grumbles Shall rise relieving sighs.
Throughout nights, dawns and days The world will be with you in every way. Should your hope ever saway, And your gloom be called to day, Bid the world to offer a hand, And we shall stand by you.
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3/19/2021 8:46:14 PM
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Wanderer
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Thank you so much Shakti. I appreciate your take on the piece. And yes “colour” is correct, widely used by Great Britain and all its colonies. In simple terms, “color” is the American way of writing “colour”.
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