Identity
Learn more about other poetry terms
So who “I” have been —
Whom do you know —
How do “I” summon —
None can ever sow!
So far — Lakes grow,
Shall here "I" go —
But for whom do "I" slow —
Dominant meadows know.
i feel like i look god in the eye everyday
and he rejects me instantly
what you haven’t done still tells people who i am
An introduction begins with your name.
Not your raving personality,
Your most inner thoughts,
Or your beaming laugh,
But your name.
Tell me the truth
tell me what i want to hear
i know all your lies, the ones in your eyes
I cannot keep living in fear -
Of the you that isnt really you
and the me that isnt really me
My parents raised me in a competitive household
They said, "To us Zentzs, everything is a competition."
And so I went about my life doing just that:
competing
Not out loud though,
in my head,
Their own happiness, their own pleasure
becomes the suffrage for freedom
With a capital I, Individual
Capital A, the artist
Capital N, the non conformist
Found in the letters of my name
A pretty pink caterpillar plays her part perfectly
She knows what’s expected of her
Though sometimes she wonders…
What if she doesn’t want to be pretty and pink?
When it comes to emotion between you and me, I was never moved by your subtle ways you think brings everyone concord.
You smile, but what do you smile for?
As The Saying Goes...
... “ MANY Are Called, But Few Are Chosen ! “ ...
I Was Asked Today To Write A Poem...
About Todays’ Tech Age And The String of PROBLEMS That It Now SUSTAINS...
From Men To Women To Those... Teenaged...
A Piece of Wordplay Can BARELY EXPLAIN... !!!
So Are You The Exception Or Are You The Rule... ?
Cos’ I’m An EXCEPTIONAL Spoken Word Dude... !!!
Cos’ My Use of This Tool Is... Spoken Word Cool... !!!
So Is Used To SCHOOL Those Who Exude...
Now Being... “TIMID”...
AIN’T A Flavour I Choose To Savour...
Because That’s What I’ve Seen...
In A LOT of Peeps' Who Are Born In Barbados...
They’re Timid Alright But NOT When It Comes To Their Using Stunts...
skin laid as leaves
my soul the seed, vessel bound
hush, here comes the freeze
So What Is The Trick To NOT Being A... Misfit... ?!?
By This I Mean To Be A Seam...
That BINDS A Team Like Coffee Does CREAM... !!!
But DON'T Think That ... “ You're SLICK " ...
You cannot define me.
I am but a petalless flower, a bud, sewn shut with transparent thread.
I exist in a reality unlike the one you know, a reality I created within my soul,
I Think Nowadays It's Fair To Say...
You NEED To REALLY...
... " Know Your Place "... !!!!!
I have a simple question to ask first to my mother,
when you look up at the stars, what do you see?
Do you think of yourself?
Just as I think of myself?
So What Are You... BORN WITH... ?!?
Cos’ I’m Born With A GIFT To Write Lyrical Twists...
That Exhibit How I Think About The Ways That We Live...
So When It Comes To Chicks They Can Be... EXPLICIT... !!!!!!
Now... “ It’s Just Who I Am “... !!!
A Man Who Chats FACTS In Spoken Word Tracks... !!!
Or YES... Poems That REJECT Nonsense... !!!
Because What I AM Is A REJECTOR of Sham’s... !!!
For the lost souls and the misguided in life
Let me shelter you from strife
Let me shepherd you to new light
Take up your own path and leave me
The man stood in front of his mirror
As if he were searching for more
Longing for someone to talk with
Share his greatest feats
And crushing downfalls
Say farewell to my relatives
They shaped my being
Sheltered my innocence,
Then shattered my youth
And burned my garden of eden
HEY... My Name AIN'T Jane... !!!
Big Virges' PERSONALITY...
Does NOT Embrace... CALAMITIES... !!!!!
I want to be the ghost in your world that lives in the warmth of a blanket
the slides around you as you watch TV
Before the child of two loving parents,
I am the child and heir of the Most High God.
Before an African-American young male with flaws,
I am a beautiful creation made in God's image.
Calvary, calvary, calvary
Gave His only progeny
What a great love for humanity
That bought us back - God's property.
Calvary, calvary, calvary
Calvary took all the misery
If God is the Sun, I am simply a seed buried within the rich soil having not yet
revealed its full potential.
If God is an ocean, then I am a fish swimming deep within the water, a child
drowning in His love and grace.
I Bear NO RELATION To... IGNORANT Nations... !!!
Cos' My Mental GESTATION Seeks UNIFICATION... !!!
I Think The HARDEST Was.... " Marcus ".... !!!!
When It Came To The Targets...
That SUPPORTED... SMARTNESS...
Being IMPARTED... INTO Black Markets...
And The Minds of Our CHARGES...
He is my advocate in heaven representing me before the Father.
I am His ambassador on earth representing Him before humanity.
He died for me and now I live for Him.
I am who I am.
I am the clay. He is the potter.
I am His creation. He is my creator.
I am the branch. He is the tree.
I am the fish. He is the ocean.
I am the vehicle. He is the fuel and the engine.
Ya Know I'm Beginning To Think The Truth Is ...
A LOT of Folks Are ... STUPID ... !!!
You Can Tell By The Way They're Moving ...
And Who They Choose To ... Move With ...
What Should I Do?
What should I do to show someone that I care about them? They say that there's nothing I can do, but I know I can do something, I just don't know what or how to do it.
- Stanza 1: Son
Hello?
Who are you?
You are me.
But I'm not.
I mean I'm what their I's want me to be.
I am who they are.
And they are who I am.
But now I look at the I AM,
So ... Who Do You See … ?
When You Look In … " Your Mirror " … ???
Someone COMPLETE Or Someone Whose Glimmer …
Isn't Quite As Bright As You Might Like … ?!?
Did you see what you came to see?
The sunset over the mountains
The sights you paid for a few ounces
I inhabit
a liminoid space-
of borders as birthright
and I span,
sometimes straddle
three cultures.
- it is a delicate
balance
a tightrope
walk
though mostly a
fusion
Who AM I??
I am to help you
wIth the neglect
abandonment
all the tears wept
I came to you
as they went
I remember you
when you fIrst began
alone
you crIed starved
The grass of the backyard
Is a wild jungle,
The clover a dense thicket
A golden hunter,
She tramps through the green
Eyes bright,
I am not Emmit Till
child martyr.
Not the Scottsboro boys,
nor Sacco and Vanzetti.
I am not Mumia,
" Live from death row."
or Leonard Peltier
grown old.
I am not the ghost
I'd like to be like Selena,
red lips, confidence, heart of gold
But it's hard, since I'm shy
and I know that
I never could be quite as bold
I'd like to be like Diana
the taste of your tongue
is still on my lips
and the feeling of your fingers
is still on my skin
and you both left
bruises
Use It For ... " Your Music " ...
Use It For ... " Your Verse " ...
Use It To EXPRESS What Makes You HURT ... !!!
Use It YES ... To Write Poems ...
But DON'T ABUSE It When You Use Your Pen ... !!!
It's Wimbledon Time And English Summertime ...
So It Ain't A Surprise We Ain't Seeing Sunshine ... !!!!!
So Of Course The BBC Are Showing More REPEATS ...
of Days When There Was Heat On The Courts And In The Streets ... !!!
I come from women
Who prefer not to smile.
From witches and warlocks
And spirits,
I come from the vampires that roam the streets
They expect me to stand here in silence to find worth in how they deprived me of who I truly was .
So Folks ... " Are You Ready " ... ?
For Prose I Write Through Use of Rhyme ...
That PROVES My Mind Is ... " EVER READY " ...
To Spread Information Just Like .... CONFETTI .... !!!
Are You The ... "Top Man" ... ???
Or The ... "Middle Man" ... ???
Or The Man below Wanting To Be Them ... !?!
I'm NONE of These I'm Simply ... ME ... !!!
Just Be YOURSELF ... !!!
What's Wrong With THAT ... ?!?
I'd Rather Be ME Than Someone Else ... !?!
FOLLOWING Cliques Is NOT For ME ... !!!
So What Are You An ... " Educated Fool " ... !?!
Or One Who THINKS You're ... " GQ Smooth " ... !!!
I'm Neither of These But What Are You ... ?!?
A Woman Using Sexual Tools ... ?!?!?
ARROGANCE ... Or ... Self BELIEF ... ??????
Which of These Is Part of ME ... ?
I Have An Idea But What Do You See ... ?
Some Have Said They See ... VANITY ... !!!!!
Well For Many Years I Saw ..... UGLY ......
Do I ... " Fit In ? "
Do You ... " Fit In ? "
Is ... " Fitting In " ...
Just One More Sin ... ?
"Fit" .... "Into This" ... !!!
"Fit" .... "Into That" ... !!!
may ayimafro-germanpoetessayist established theterm "black german" until then germans wouldcall a person of color a "neger" however oneof the most inspiringtalentstook her own life: august 91996 that's it. god bless youmay ayim
dear idol i
want to be like you
dear idol i
want to be you
scratched your name into my arms
your face is my tattoo
your tattoo is my face
i've been listening a decade
"My" People
quest for belongingness
getting blind under the shield of
sunglasses
i really became blind
i did everything
i did whatever
imitation of a
sentence
Why Am I Here ... ?
Well THAT's A BIG QUESTION ... !!!
I'm NOT A Schoolteacher ...
You're NOT IN A Lesson ... !!!
They didn’t tell you that cherry cola was wrong,
but they let you know it was.
They said that only the sick minded drank it,
declared from a broken and cracked pulpit
Shed the skin of the colonizer
As if it is not also mine
As if the blood coursing through me did not also
pool along the legs of Malintze
Image credit: This image was created with the assistance of DALL·E 3..An emperor spoke in poetic verseWhich lead to fame for him at firstBut after some time, it became a curseFor the emperor had no prose.
Why do I always fight myself
Preventing myself from being myself
I’m still in my own body
But at the same time I’m somebody else
I may not like me
Adios Ayacucho
Land that has taken my name and body and left me unrecognized and unrecognizable
Who are we all but Alfonso Cánepa, forced to settle for other when we ourselves are forever lost?
Negative zero was born as a second child to married parents who would soon be a single mother Negative zero grew up moving from place never quite sitting down even when settled negative zero loves superheroes negative zero would sit around waiting
I lay on the grass,
Face pressed on the earth
Above your marble urn
And let your soul
Flow up through my body-
Leaving my skin tingling
Looking in the mirror, nine years old,
Almond eyes blink.
And I hate them, wishing they were bigger.
Shiny dark hair, smooth honey skin
In a world full of blonde curls and blue eyes.
Skin.
Skin is the thing that wraps our bones.
Molds us into an image –
Skin.
Smooth and everchanging, but never really changing.
Every night she stared through the thin slits of her blinds
out to the branches that contorted in the hollowing wind.
She wasn’t afraid, but maybe she wished she was,
The eye exists to capture the ingenuity of every encounter. It is the passage into one’s soul that identifies earnest emotion.
“Who am I?”
I asked myself in freshman year.
Silence.
No answer.
I always felt lost like an outcast,
Puzzle Pieces
The connection here is lost, unruly and static.
Trying desperately to make it work,
like putting puzzle pieces
in the wrong place.
Day in, day out
What is it all about?
I can’t deny
This change I’ve taken
Maybe I’ll be different.
I’ve walked through Depression
I’ve walked through Anger
I’ve fought my battles
Want to know what you’re made out of?
The answer is simple, but not easy.
It takes a great amount of willpower to start
It hurt to be alone
So I smiled and talked
Never thinking on my own
Being told it’s ok to be laughed at
And be the clown of my home.
I didn’t know why I was told
“I hate you”
It hurt to be alone
So I smiled and talked
Never thinking on my own
Being told it’s ok to be laughed at
And be the clown of my home.
I didn’t know why I was told
“I hate you”
The air was cool that morning,
Matching the sky’s lavender and peachy hues.
Vehicular white noise
And the wind’s quiet whispers
Lulled the peaceful baby to sleep.
I am not her,
Not my past,
Nor a name.
I am not the order
Of the stars,
Or the gods of the months,
Or the beasts that follow the moon.
Our value no more than
BANG! POW! KABOOM!
Words exclaiming from
fragile comic book pages.
wrapped in cape
much too large,
although the tag claims “one size fits all”.
Mind wondering, dreaming
i feel sad.
i feel sad because the world is angry.
i want to use my words to sooth its temper
but paper isn’t enough.
and when i shout them,
i feel sad.
i feel sad because the world is angry.
i want to use my words to sooth its temper
but paper isn’t enough.
and when i shout them,
She chose the path they told her to,
yet she could not recognize the face,
she who stared back from the mirror.
You are not enough.
Was it the glass breaking under the weight of stress,
was it she?
In a sea of stars,
My head was a constellation of chaos
And mindless insecurity.
In my universe,
There was no lack of striking entities.
You were so down to earth,
I was up in the sky
Dead trees stand tall
Beige brittle limbs stiff as dried out bones
Silver inside the screaming sky
Snaking between evergreens
Darker than Hooker’s Green in pure white
I know this- life is difficult,
it has ups
and it has downs
I know this- having a mental disorder isn’t easy,
i've done it.
okay?
i've done a lot.
i've laughed till i peed myself,
cried until my throat was sore,
figured myself out so i wouldn't have to
When our biggest concern isn’t about
Fighting over the hula-hoop at lunchtime,
we’ve grown up
When our days are no longer filled with recess and giggles
we’ve grown up
When our eyebrows start to furrow
I don't pick my favorite colors.
They pick me.
They cling to my skin, they go under my scalp,
they find those little spots under my fingernails that become tender and raw when I bite them
fighting writhing agony with
screaming voices in my head and
on and on throughout my day for
evermore they say that I can’t
measure up, and till i drop i’ll
I once heard that
My eyes hold an identity
That is not entirely my own.
Where are you from?
She looked at me while she giggled a light-hearted laugh
It rang out like a wind chime till cut in half
She looked to the side and made a face that shook me
Known by history for its wretched despair
Broken ankles link by link hauled to a grave
A life most ignominious that one would never want to be spare
Last day.
Big smiles, warm hugs
Laughing, refusing to cry.
The outgoing one
The funny one
The athletic one
The identity that doesn’t need an introduction.
No one told me
It's funny how we all perceive ourselves
It's barely accurate and sometimes we deceive ourselves.
How do you see yourself?
I wasn't quite sure how to outwit life's clever twist,Which, like most things, can't be solved with my fists,There's no technique to speak or tweak it out of me,
It was the same scene time after time,
had me wishing i could fast forward or rewind
and make it all go away,
but I can't .... so it's all here to stay.
A new day was a new nightmare,
The only thing that's constant is change, so I'm constantly changing. Taking responsibility instead of blaming, learn to forgive and swallow my pride, so who am I today? Jekyll or Mr.Hyde
Dirty
Dirty, dirty words
How dare you speak them in my house
My home, His house
Who I am is not dirty
But let it be undefined, unspoken
My anger is not a star
Bursting with untamable fire
Stubbornly bright
When drowning in darkness
And boiling beneath the surface
To drive out the cold.
It's a double edged sword
The weapon
I’m losing my skin
to this cold winter’s day.
I’m slipping from you
and that’s all I can say.
I can’t feel myself
under this snow.
Unfamiliar
A child, scared at their own shadow,
Pondering its own unfamiliarity,
Slightly,
When Time was There
It’s not about the money,
Not about the price,
Not about the hatred growing up on the rise
Where am I?
I’m not what you want me to be
At least not today
I just want to know if that’s okay
this life
it’s jovial, isn’t it ?
sprouted with his anger, his disbelief, his lack of acceptance
but her
I feel the warmest when I’m surrounded by my family
We live life as if there’s no limitations despite the fact that there are so many
My hand is kept as claw clutched close to my chest.
Even I'm not sure what's inside.
Did you think you could pry it open?
Secrets are meant to be hidden, my darling,
And mine are hidden from me.
1.
Sinigang, maybe.Adobo, sisig, halo-halo.Fitting food into my mouthlike they hold the key to a languageI’ve never learned.
Today I painted my nails black
so next time I
dig them into your warm
cold, indifferent back
you might feel my anger
under your skin
and maybe my kiss might
“What’s your favorite color?”
This social crutch has been used since kindergarten
and is the basic question of first impressions.
Address the “you”
Who is “me” “you” “I”?
The multitude of omnipotent augmenting masks?
The ever flowing stream of made up emotions?
Your age never held you back from dreaming.
From breaking and reshaping an entire subcultre.
Your gender never hindered you from achiveing.
Having saved thousands of those haunted by the black vulture.
Where I’m from is home ,yet alien all at once
Where I’m from there are more children
than adults to care for
I recall our first sibling school picture,
me all curly haired,
smoothed skinned boy,
immaculate in uniform.
Later changing school,
being in the new house, 'our house' ,
i sat in my us history class 4 years ago watching my spirit slowly split from my body
and i wondered if everyone saw what i saw
watching from the outside in, a spectator to my own body.
With lies
I make myself
family deceived
friends forsaken
What lie is worthy of you all?
What contempt as demanding
This charcoal is not me:
sooty curls on paper thick
a blonde-combed lad
caught by the flash
of father's thick-veined hand
With words, I
spoke everything out of nothing,
whispered life into the world,
named the spark that brought forth fire,
read art from dreams long gone,
yelled friendship from the abyss,
When do you feel the most free?
“When I am alone”
What do you do when you are alone
“Ya know, the usual… I read, maybe dance, I writ...:”
I express my identity through poetry.
Who I am and who I hope to one day be
Bleeds through the tip of my pen
In a rush of eloquence,
My stream of consciousness.
Adeb́oĺa ́ òòòòò Ìshòlá omo Adé Omo ìyíọlásemí, omo Adégbóyèga Ìshol̀á Omo tápà Adé Omo Ọba Olójòkú ti ilu Òjòkú Òjòkú, mosè mo jalú omo Arógun díyàn Mo deĺe ́mo kiẹ́ oooo Adeb́oĺa ́Omo Oba (Rezthapoet, Reztha
My particles buzz
In vibrations.
I’m trying to keep myself a solid,
But I’m slipping down to absolute zero.
My structure is hapless within
Iceland.
I’m pretty relaxed
And at the same time
Northern lights.
High maintenance sweet pea.
Face mask.
I look in the mirror
And do not recognize
The reflection
Which stares back at me directly.
Who have I become?
She is not who she once was
My mind was jumbled, like a puzzle piece trying to fit into a mold
that wasn’t shaped for me.
Trying to come up with the reason as to
why I couldn’t be both.
I need you to be
Your first soulmate
I need you to fall
In love with yourself
Before you fall too far for me
I want you to look at yourself
And see the beautiful person you are.
What is the point of this?
Spending hours upon hours pondering:
what shall I write?
what words shall I use?
does the rhyming matter?
does it have any use?
Maybe it doesn't matter,
Child,
You are ignorant.
Ignorant to the horrors of our world.
Hatred.
Evil.
Corruption.
Destruction.
No,
i wish i didn’t have a last name;
i don’t belong-
anywhere.
my original last name lost its beauty
from the very first day i was hit,
lost its identity.
i became nameless.
I have found the story
Of a young girl who thought she knew the world,
Idealistic and overly-praised as she was,
Running free as her wild ocean eyes.
I have found the story
Seven years old, standing by her parent’s door,Wishing they wouldn’t argue anymore“That won’t be me, I swear it won’t,”“Love’s a fight, it’s not for me”I don’t want to end up crying on the floor A nine-year old girl, in the shadows,Two people, poi
Some Things Cannot Lie:
The wagging tail of a dog
The chocolate-covered hands of a toddler
The calloused hands of a carpenter-hands cannot hide their life’s work-
The business of show
The business of show
is a strange thing I know,
It lives for a yes but then kills with a no
It asks for your heart but your image it owns
There comes a point in time
When your favorite song
Grows old
After listening to it everyday,
2
3
10
20 times,
It seems to lose its value.
Dear Raven, The naked mole-rat intentions that rashesthe film of your eyes nudges the clay whichcrumbles in a whisper, spotting a flutter,hissing into the dust I bite. Bathe under your chalky roof, sculpted fromliquor-sweet caresses that anchor yo
I still remember, Nora, the first time you stood
In front of me, trying to figure out the little tufts
Of hair on your brow,
On your arm,
On your leg,
On your pit,
On your head,
On your lip.
I was not made for fire.
But that's what they created with time.
I am an accidental monster.
They can't put me into a cage.
I roam free, searching.
I don't know what my goal is.
What am I, really?
Am I the lost child, the one searching for hope.
Or the old man, nostalgic for his own world.
Am I the fire, the fury that burns through you.
Maybe the ice, freezing to the bone, the blood.
Who? Am? I? . . . :’(
(written by an ENFP)
Who am I? I say fuzzily . . .
A tear drips out of my eye, a single droplet.
I am the world’s savior I say . . .
you can only get so deep before bursting into tears
being vulnerable is hard before it’s easy
where’s the key that opens up all the locks
There’s a name for whatever this is—
You call it a beautiful agony because you’ve got a lot to lose
I call it a chaotic chemistry to maintain my flow
It was an off-day for you
This book reminds me of you
Soft cover, indestructible
Keeper of an old god
Tell me more about who tore your pages
Where you got the damage on your jacket
Dear special someone,
Coincidental how we did meet
Magically swept off my feet
By surprise you ended up so sweet
Our past revealed; darkness loomed
Confided though we carried gloom
I am coco skinned.
Blackberry eyes, pink lipped lies;
a button nose and a touch of spearmint.
But, my mother is winter toned.
Leafy piles on top of cherry smiles;
You said I can go the distance, but then I think to myself, can I even make it past this barrier that stands sturdy before me. The one that blocks me off from society. What you don't see is your inability to crack open my minds door.
Dear Malcolm,
In some parts of the world,
Light shines brighter than in others,
Shade-divided world.
Under bright light,
Everytime I see the doctor,
I pretend to be who they want me to,
Or who they think I am.
For I know if I tell them,
They'd invalidate me instead:
"You are female."
"Forget about it."
You were invincible.Tough as nails. Nothing ever got to you.Or so everyone believed,Until the dayYou killed yourself. You carried yourself with an upright zealMade it taboo to show any sign of weakness.While your fortress stood steady,Everything i
I'm not sure how it happened, but
I woke up one day to realize
I haven't aged in a very long time
These bodies don't define who we are
To you I am nothing more than what you see,
what you hear,
what you read.
I am nothing more to the world
than the traces that I leave,
in my words,
in my art,
in my legacy.
One may walk in a hallway,
With the only purpose being to hear his own footsteps echo.
One may look in a mirror,
Only to see a piece of glass like a foggy window.
One may scribble their thought,
37.1 trillion cells
23 pairs of chromosomes
46 chromosomes total
4 stories
The pigment of my skin, a reminder of the humid city my family came from.
What is lost can never be found
I found myself
Lost some friends
Felt some pain
In the end
Disapointment?
That's okay
Because I still found myself today
Made new friend
You don't know who I am
So why tell me what to be?
You don't know what I've done
So why tell me how to feel?
Why can't you say my name
Without wanting to rip out your throat?
You gave me a gift
More precious than material
As far as I am concerned
You gave me my heart
-------
Months turn into years
Sweet nothings turn to slander
My mind starts to wonder
A slow and steady rainfall
Bringing life to those around
The ache in your stomach from laughing too much
Bittersweet in itself
The vast ocean with parts unseen
Who Am I
Who am I without you
Who am I to be left alone
Who am I to cry when you leave
How can it be that knowing you're leaving can hurt
Rubies glint on the sill in the light of the sun--
A light she'd once seen through miles of murk.
"Happily ever after" she heard herself say,
While her stranger of a husband prepared for his work.
Mama goose stared
at the odd-looking egg
plain, white and small
Which end was its head?
It hatched early on
when the mist was still dew
a sight to behold,
something was askew.
Mama goose stared
at the odd-looking egg
plain, white and small
Which end was its head?
It hatched early on
when the mist was still dew
a sight to behold,
something was askew.
When I was a child I was told that I was black but not black black. I didn't quite fit into the pre-packaged, tick-one-only boxes society had for me. Which made it difficult when trying to find my place.
Verse:
Mist, in my eyes
Ice, heart melts, freeze
Dive, into ocean spacious as skies
Lie, sea turned bed if dived too deep
Still profound, unexplored
Wonder, how change will give more
The red white and blue
Seem to mock the brown hues of our skin
But we plant our feet firmly
We are here to stay
Blood, sweat, and tears,
Who am I?
What comes to mind, when I say hi?
How is it that you feel, when you find out it’s me?
Are you sad or happy whenever you see me?
Do I make or mar your day?
Does it feel good when I stay?
When my father stepped off the plane twenty years ago and found his way to
The Bronx where his brothers were waiting for him,
It was to live every day plagued by stories of his
Hello,
My name is broken
A heap of letters left on a tattered floor
Shards of my identity, opaque from the settling dust
Hello,
My grandmother saw America
not as a land of opportunity,
but as a last resort.
Taking off only when there was nothing left
Leaving because a twenty-six-year-old with four children
cannot provide on a dime.
WaterNot the blue water we always talk about – not that water, a different waterGreyWhite maybeLike a mirrorThere’s smoke too, or mist maybeYeah, I think it’s mist
I know my names,
I know each and every one.
I wear them each without shame,
I clothe myself in the light of their sun.
I am stressed,
My hair is getting blown in the wind as I pedal over rocks and dirtThis trail is bumpier than I had heardBut this doesn't stop meAnd I choose to pedal fasterAnd all around, leaves shed from their branches above meAs all of my struggles and bad mem
Who are you?
Who am I?
Does anyone really know?
Who are you to tell me what I should say or what I should show?
I always thought a lot about my days there.
There with the grey circles and led pencils.
I thought about how they’ll reflect my future,
And influence those around me's opinion.
Around age thirteen, freshman year is where life began for me
Rising up from my cocoon so that the world would take notice of my identity
I was quiet but passionate,
Reserved but determined
wrestling with an impression of myself,confidence scant and creativity diluted,I found solace in the arms of a soldier who decidedmy dreams encompassed all the world-just not the war he was fighting.
A year from now it was dark,
But that was before Clark.
So I came out,
with a famous shout.
Now I wear glitter and make my mark!
Rowing the little boat over the roaring tides and underneath the thundering clouds, I hold onto the life I had lived before. The load got heavier, the rain fell harder and the waves crashed with more anger. I surveyed the black water, looking for
Imma take you all back to the Civil Rights Team
When Martin Luther King came n the scene
Emotional About some dream
And you see he wanted us to believe
That love was the key
Coherent masks of beige are what we wear at birth
Skin too smooth, too gentle to be disguised
But when our hands reach into the abyss of reality
SOMETIMES I SHRINK
Back from it all. There are a million bows to tie.
Why should I be studious? Maybe if I were a kid
again I wouldn’t be spoiled rotten.
I never claimed to understand potential.
Always sweet and nice,
I am cotton candy.
Sugary and colorful
In my own world.
Soft and fluffy
To loved ones.
But if events take turns,
My mind is black licorice.
Feeling all so
“What are you,” they ask me
To which I reply… I'm MelinaThey scoff and mentally pat me on the shoulder
Who am I?
Am I just some short mexican girl?
Or am I really a part of this world?
Am I just a hidden shadow in the corner?
Or do I wait in a line to order?
I am one person
But I am more
love be tender
love be rich
love me till my final breath
love be faithful
love be kind
love be the trusting lifeline
love be gentle
love be whole
I am from the neatness
Of clothes tucked away
In folded squares
In chests of drawers
In the cream white room
Where the television
You all are followers
You seem to forget identity.
You all are in search of conformity
You seem to settle with docility.
Opinions are not for sale
They have gone out of style.
let me be clear, i am not trying to be political, i am only trying to exist.
Give us this day Our daily bread And please take away This overwhelming dread Of living a life That is not entirely mine Everyday is a fight To not cross the line But it's a losing side I am on I'm just along for the ride Just to dea
The first time I saw her
I deduced from her briad and her emerald necklace
and her strands of bronzy hair
- like willow leaves in the air -
That she must be called Helena.
B-a-b
Baab
Curve, swoop up, space, curve again
Two dots below, short and sweet
I trace it with my finger, my pencil
On my skin and my tests
Elizabeth, meaning the “Oath of God,” or “God’s satisfaction.”
A girl who is supposed to be beautiful and feminine.
i wonder what the others feelwhen drinking wine or grape juice.it's strange, i know--it tastes to melike comfort, love, identity--the fruit of the vine, warm chanukkah nights,
I have a gift:
The gift of changing myself.
I can be anything,
Anyone.
I can be family or stranger,
Friend or foe.
I have a gift.
I can choose to show it
Or not.
Oh sweet, how sweet
To be me but not
Judgment belongs to someone else,
It belongs to plastic innocuous speech,
Flowing into a vacant House that is yours, theirs-mine
"Having a Coke with You,"
I thought I had fallen in love with the protagonist of "Beastly"
but really the works of Frank O'Hara made my heart swoon,
the poem soon became an embedded memory.
There's a battle out there- this world's got a scheme
To take the 'you' and replace it with 'me'
That's what they call the Hollywood machine-
It just starts with one flaw may never have seen
The lips of my brain
Were born to be insane
Driven to rust
Life was clearly my lust
My worth defined by dirty words that often weren't even heard
A soulful sorrow of judgement
Do i look like a person who is two faced?
Do i look like a person who lies?
The mind tends to grasp the looks of someone
By their beauty,
Their imperfections .
Thank you all for coming to Group tonight!My name is Griffin and I am……BlankNothingEmptyDevoidThese were what I thought.These were what I used to believe.These were what I was.
Black.
That's what they see first.
Black.
That's what they hear first.
Black.
That's what they touch first.
Black.
That's what they remember first.
The lights on the ceiling blurred my vision
As I lay on my back,
Humming low.
The world is cruel to
The young who
Have no place to go.
And the first thing I saw when
I stepped into the open
You are unique.
Though this may not be the life you seek,
All around, you will see,
You are what people will never be.
I was born who I am,
And my life is not an anagram.
The voice of another soul
Escapes my lips.
Foreign entities cloud my thoughts,
Concealing my mind in a
Toxic dust.
Yesterday's whims of being
Unrecognizable, among
You are a good thing.
You are the poems that you devour and that you dream of creating.
You are every piece of art that you love,
You are a piece of art.
Some days, it feels as though I have an identity
And others, it feels like I’m faking.
I am not a fake or a liar
Am I? What does it mean, the word identity?
I have always struggled to find the meaning
My wildflower, forest sprite—
I'll paint you pictures of all your light
For words could not do it justice.
Imagine myriads of stars
Above the velvet tops of trees
—The greenest in the forest for you—
People are made of boxes.
A check box marks your ethnicity, gender
your who, what, and when, in a box.
The box in your pocket
the ibox, galaxy box, maybe the LG box
Who I am
Am I my long Spanish name?
Or am I the tongues of those who cannot pronounce it?
[Can't I just call you Maria?]
Am I my full, curvaceous, petite body frame?
it was
innocence
nursery rhymes
read as we fell asleep
cinquains, haikus
A, B, A, B, C
projects typed
fresh from a word document
prompts and clear curricula
Been told all my young life long
My words conceal where I come from.
Fellow Jamaicans would speculate
About how I enunciate
With a too-American twang.
Not enough patois to be a yaardie.
I still question what is my own reflection?
Looking into a steamed mirror
Staring not at my outward reflection
Looking toward myself to find.
To find, my reflections from inside.
Oh, the lovely corner,
a home and friend of mine.
Oh, the lovely corner,
your comfort is divine.
Oh, the lovely corner,
All my life I have gotten used to being called an “Oreo”
Not an “Oreo” as in the deliciously cream-filled snack
My wrist, formless, shifting and breaking like a cloud;You grab hold, tightly--too tightly,And I vaporize before your eyes.
The trees--they quiver with life.Yes, all around me,They shake with strife.Their bones, bare of bark,They're stark white cast in dark.Sister stars shoot to earth,Little pricks of light plunging-
I’m pretty sure that public bathrooms might just be the most important invention of our modern world,
I mean think about it,
I’m tired of these white boys
Saying I'm not “black enough”
I “act white” and “talk white”
So I don’t match their model
My Identity
The one thing I can’t live without is
my identity.
It tells me who I am
and where I go.
In childhood, I was cut off from my family.Unable to speak in and on their terms,I reached for the tongue long lost to me.
Surrounded by quiet chaos
Walking pass people, unseen
A reflection appears before me
Thick and thin at the same time
Not short nor tall
The hair, it seems, cascades down as rushing waves
The Bird inside my soul
sings beautiful, powerful, free.
She laughs and cries and lives,
she is the key to me.
But as the lava burns
the voice soon starts to die,
and all I'm left with is
Pretty brown skin, girl you know those boys love you
They say you have a “fat ass” so you should show them all a little something
No need for modesty, just show your body, be sexy
Today my pick won’t go farther than three inches
into this jungle.
I could straighten it, but that would take too long,
leaving me with only exhausted arms and a smoky bathroom.
Poke andStab andPinch andCutAndLift andPluck andCover upBecause internal beauty isn't enoughAnymoreLess eatingLess sleepingMore doingLess being
“There is but one place where humanity coalesces with the purest concentration of earth.
This is in a dimension where blank noise is alive,
I’m stranded.
Don’t know where I am, starting to lose
sense of who I am, but that can’t occur.
See, while my location may be unknown,
my identity and ideals cannot be gone
we've been told
our whole lives
who we are
our identity
carved into our skin
and hidden underneath our dresses
It's morning
It's just like any other day but yet somethings gone
What it is it?
Where is it?
Why can't it be found?!
It can't be gone
It's frustrating
Why can't it be found
"What do you want to be when you grow up?" A question frequently asked by many. Growing up I've had everything a young child could ask for. I had a stable home, a mom, a dad, and endless amounts of toys.
Money, power, accessories.
I would banish all these luxuries,
All costly clothing, all fancy bling,
For the sake of something
Greater.
rise, still, from the
left-hand corners of my papers;
black letters;
better to read poetry in fifth grade history, shouting;
I
was named after a poet—
heroic: note this, notice
I Awake Each Day With A Smile, And Greet It With A Laugh. The World Is A Treasure To Me, Because Of You.
I love her more than I think she loves herself.
I look at her and see so many things.
I remember oh so well the mask she wore everyday.
The smile that was plastered on her face.
It wasn't too long ago that I had her,
so close to me, so willingly
but the winds of change swept her away
and just like that she was gone.
I didn't want to admit to myself,
My hands are always full
I don't want to be successful
I don't want that at all
I don't want a big house
Of which I've paid off every ounce
With my supportive spouse
As I grew, I learned to curse this sun kissed skin.
It felt like a trap to me,
plaguing me as leper- socially condemned being…
but after I gazed at my brother, the blackened night sky,
No name can fit this hollow mess of flesh, so try another and carve a new facade wear it today, a new one tomorrow as yesterday's skin has decayed into a rotten mesh of bruised and bloated purple-green. I know! lets create our own!
The meaning of identity
is having a close similarity
affinity
identifying oneself
to another
idea.
To be
or not
is no the same
you see
to be
means
My skin, the cover of my soul’s pages, is soft
leather binding, knitted together
by the Expert Craftsman,
protecting secrets from
I grew up with Seuss and SilversteinRoahl Dahl and Robert FrostI live with MayaAnd I run with NikkiSandburg he's always whisperingHemingway holds my handAnd Shakespeare keeps on reaching
I am not African.I am not Black.I am not Caucasian,Hispanic, Filipino, or Asian.I am not a Melting Pot,but I have surely been influenced by - I am not a NegroNor am I a Niggerand don't say "Nigga, please"or start any conversation with"What's up, m
This skin does not belong to me
it is merely borrowed.
A place in which I only temporarily reside.
My skin is not yet finished.
My time has not yet come.
But it will.
A house is nought but the sum of it's parts
A day is but a set of hours
A year, a system of days, each bundled up with others and given names
All a decade is is a repeat of the day before
Child,
I’m sorry for the cold
And the pictures in the snow
Your bright red cheeks were only reflections
of the season
Your tears ran down in the cold
Starting college has been
pretty fucking hard
if I'm going to be honest with you.
Going from straight A's
to struggling for C's
when I've never had to study before this
takes a lot out of me.
wanting to have true friends but none are true enough to be one
wanting to get in love and to be loved but gifted with none of the above
I've been asked,
"Describe yourself in one word."
But one word cannot describe all that I am.
A sweet, shy girl is all they may see,
But best believe that ain't all of me.
So let this poem give you a taste;
Trapped in a beautiful reality,
Twirling my Mobius strip.
Walking on burning fallacy,
Standing on the edge of spontaneity, I flip
into the abyss—
blinded by the power of silence
Am I the sum of my parts?
Am I the sum of my interests?
Am I the sum of what I have created?
As time moves on
I find myself turning to this idea
Connected by the heart and clasped with a hand A whole lifetime and more spent in constant company, a single monochrome In dazzling colors blended by genes, painted with love. Questioning identity in sadness Trapped in a mirror of dazzling irides
Leaving behind a title,
Breaking the barricades;
Calling out for revival,
Hurling out hand grenades;
Fighting for survival,
Peeling off charades;
Waiting for avowal,
If I don't know where I'm from, you ask, how will I know where I'm going?
Fair enough.
Here's my best answer:
I am from a little boy crying because I turned his amoeba of green paint into a t-rex.
On the first day of kindergarten music class, i cried because the teacher asked me to sing ‘my name is rachel’ and i thought it sounded dumb.
Right here, right now
I wish my hands were magic,
instead my touch turns to dust,
and they can’t keep hold any more.
I am happy, I am kind, I am jovial.
I am honest, I am free, I am jovial.
I am thankful, I am appreciative, I am jovial.
I am independent, I am a dreamer, I am Lindsey.
Picture the summer of 2014. Driving on the freeway. Walking along the beach. Blasting music with the windows down.
Is this going to be a typical California summer? Not in the slightest.
I am the white flag
Winds permeating my face in the coldest way
I stand, stll.
Wavering with doubts once in a while
I question my existence.
I am here. Now.
I am resillient
I am not a poem.
Typed letters can take you to other worlds
But not inside my head.
I am as infinite as the universe
As impossible to map as existence
My body could fit in a refrigerator box
India ink harpoons its way into fabric
strung around alabaster bone,
staining cloth with polychromic significance,
injecting an artist’s rendering of alternative beauty
between the stitches
I am the beat of my heart
fighting the wind of the fan at
two in the morning
the heartbeat is a reminder.
whenever I'm dead because of the thoughts
that often pop up
Memories
where my mind drifts off too at the wrong times never
seems to happen at the right times.
I close my eyes and I see my self cry
I Am
Paint splashed onto weary walls
That have stood over centuries of the normal person.
Spots of color to prove I am different
Than the rest
Splotches that don't blend in
With the rest
What am I?
I am human.
What are you?
You must be confused, since you cannot clearly identify me.
You mean that the color of my skin does not give you a clear indication?
A fork parting the road,
Forever veiled in mist.
Offered two roses, of ravens
Of angels.
For which to reign in light,
Or shadow.
Marched through heart,
To seize both kingdoms.
I am Rhett Artis
The shortest person in all my classes
But a personality to move the masses
Focused doesn’t begin to explain
Who I am and how I deal with pain
My mother passed away when I was Two
I remember asking myself, why can't I put on an act like everyone else?
And then I remember two things, one - I am not everyone else and two - I can't put on an act,...when I am the act.
A wildfire of a soul--entrapped by glass of reality.
Ferociously burning, in which drains for all eternity.
This is passion.
My passion.
Who am I?
I am made of many masks.
Each stacked up upon the other.
They have a mind of their own
And I sit back and watch my life take place before me.
Who am I?
Am I a psychopath?
I sit back under the light post.
Illuminated
But barely able to see my surroundings.
I look at my hands.
I see hard scarred loving hands.
I touch my face.
I feel the foreign mask I wear.
My identity can't be defined
By simplistic, pedestrian words
You couldn't flip to my page in a dictionary
Because I can not be defined
Let alone on a single page
If words alone could define me
The rock in a hard place.
But if the rock is broken apart you find gold.
Girl tried to get a date, but rejected.
Honor roll status diminished and finished.
In-crowd was the main goal, and she
It don't know why I write,
I just do,
I guess it's to deal with the things caused by you,
So thanks,
For being my muse,
And putting me through pain,
Because without you,
I would be,
Nothing.
There is a fire in my chest
A small fire growing
Everyone has a small fire in them
Its called passion
But this fire
The fire that grows as tall as a forest
Burns in anger
Hey, You!
Yeah you
I know who you are
You're the big old empty shell of me that real life and real stuff doesn't mar
You're the face that I take off at night
My double when I am under the bed
“I don’t know.”
That’s my answer to every important question I’ve ever heard.
“Don’t you know what you want to be?
What you want to do?
What you like,
What you hate – what you love
Who you are?”
Identity is naught but illusion.
It is fragile and fluid and fleeting.
It encompasses a heart’s brief beating,
And vastly differs among everyone.
Identity is seen in name and face,
I am whatever I want to be,
at least that's what my parents tell me.
But yet I walk down these hallowed halls,
people laughing,
staring
judging
Another Definition
By Abigail Gyamfi
The one to put an impassive face when she firsts enters a place,
don’t ask me those questions
they are self-erasing and ugly in nature
unidentifying and dreadfully
hollow.
At first, I thought I was a mix of my sisters.
They were complete opposites:
One was cautious, one was reckless.
One did well in school, the other struggled.
One was popular, the other had few friends.
It's my pain, my power
pens flow like raindrops, and the pen showers
My lyrics tickin' like clockwork, showin' my hours
Pages are the hourglass
excellence is my aimed target
greatness is my current path
Hi my name is Frances
I am Puerto Rican, although anyone who doesn't know me
would argue that I am half black and something else,
I am a teenage girl in my own words through thought
When I find myself
Behind the clusters of sofas
And worthless knick-knacks
You'll be the first to know
I see you frowning
At my reflection
But-of course- you keep looking
Upside down
I am tired, I am hungry, and I am weak
I have looked high and low, but nothin has seeked
Every day many drop one by one
All continue to drop for more months to come
Why must we starve huh? Why must we suffer?
I am tired, I am hungry, and I am weak
I have looked high and low, but nothin has seeked
Every day many drop one by one
All continue to drop for more months to come
Why must we starve huh? Why must we suffer?
I am tired, I am hungry, and I am weak
I have looked high and low, but nothing have i seeked
Every day many drop one by one
All continue to drop for more months to come
Why must we starve huh? Why must we suffer?
I Am a child of God.
whos hard to defind in simple words...
Whos actions are carful but never captured...
whos simple but elegant in the way she speaks to others....
I am five and I sit across my mother’s lap
Praying for a human toy to assuage
The eternal boredom that is my loneliness.
I am six and I hold a baby girl in my arms
as I pray to God to never let her grow
Everyday I wonder who I am
People try and tell me, but it just feels like a scam
And some days I think I’m at the top of the world
And I start to see God’s plan unfurl
I see myself as a confused individual, who knows exactly what they want in life.
I see myself as the person who wears yellow to an all white affair.
Yes, I am unique I stick out like a sore thumb.
the world in a daZe
it seems like its the end of days
the sun close u can feel it in the rays
lost child i cant get out of the maze
head high i still carry hope
even though all we was told is nope
Velvet triangles, shiny black buttons
and soft pink hands
that grip the underside of my window.
He is peaceful, finally fully unafraid
while sleeping while only I watch
his steady daytime slumber.
When we are young,
We learn to form our own ideas.
Ideas that fill our minds
Like stars fill the night sky
And emotions fill the hearts of lovers.
you place the blades to your wrist again,
the blood begins to pool,
you think your family will never be whole
and you wittness oppression at school.
but you only want someone to see,
sense of purpose,
sense of worth
a thought of my impact
on this earth.
not sure why
or what purpose i serve,
but i know i'll make a difference
in this fallen, broken world
if a mirror
was placed
before you
and you cast
your gaze
upon it,
what would you see?
if the reflection that comes back
is not yourself,
Looking at yourself, seeing someone else
It’s how it always is, how it’ll always be
Is this who you are on the outside?
It’s so different from the inside . . .
So misleading
All along, he was memorizing Handel
The way he taught himself to worship
Fullness, Alberti bass...
That perfect
Wrong chord with one too many g sharps.
The way I breathed through his wax paper lungs
My father has been proudly serving in the United States Navy for over thirty years.
He’s only ever had, only ever wanted the one job. He is what his job is and he’s never wanted to be anything else.
In the parched places I pausedfor a cool refreshing draft and found myselfdown to my last drop but you were thereto give me drink to energize me
She walks within, she walks without
She shines in the sun's rays
And she shines when the lights have gone out
Radiating warmth she glides towards us
In her wake is love and joy
Brain on sensory overload
Fade into the darkness
She's becoming like a ghost
Turned into a bad girl
You can still smell the sweet perfume
Closet full of black
What's the pont of color
Grandfather I wonder why you passed so quickly
I miss you ever day but you died from being sickly
Sometimes I wonder what heaven is like
Are you with angels taking a high flight?
Is my skin the only part of me
that people are willing to see?
Wil it be the one thing they need
to sentence me to rest in peace?
I am not the color of my hair (lord knows i've dyed it so many times before anyways).
I am not the color of my skin (I didn’t choose it).
I am not the color of my eyes (they seem more appropriate on my dad’s face anyways).
Tssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss.
Silence. That sound is a lover of the wind
breathes essence of fire
When life has lost
meaning
and everything
seems
slow
and nothing's moving forwards
yet so does the show
the grass blows lagging to the past when it all just looks the same
I'm afraid for my unborn son.
He cannot come until this war is won.
I don't want him to not come home one night.
Can't go out or live his life because he's not white.
she is beautiful in her own way,
she’s a size ten, and acts like a two
she’s flirty, smiles and hugs around
she’s smart, brilliant some would say
she wear’s dark purple and black
Behind the eyes
is something hard to find.
The doorway to something
beautiful,
dark, or
kind.
It may be lost,
buried deep
beneath the shadows that loom
inside.
Today people are concerned with falsified images they create a fantasy world where they are king and their followers are their supposed friends. Where acts of friendship are not hugs, but rather “likes”. They reach out hoping for acceptance.
Photos of perfect people #Filter
Photos of perfect bodies #Filter
Photos of perfect models #Filter
I do no think these photos embody
the beauty of a sleepy smile, or the yawn of somebody you love
They drive me
like a clean cut Lambo
down the A1A
with my hair in the wind
insane.
They make me
like a dishwasher
violently correcting
with the voice hitting the ceiling
angry.
I can be bossy and loud,
But I’m not asking you to tone me down.
I may be harsh and sarcastic,
But my edges don’t need to be smoothed.
The world has exposed me to so much,
Behind the curtains of my eyes
Hides a glare
A stare
A lie
The carefully crafted façade
The fragile, cheap disguise
Behind a mask lies another
Feeble layer of an onion
"So what are you?" A question too familiar
Years ago my mind would halt, frozen
My heart would pound. "I do not know"
I did not want to know.
"Are you Asian?" Your ignorance now shows
When asked, "What is your name?"
My response is also a question
Why am I unsure--of the one title I've possessed since birth,
How do I claim to know myself. If I still don't know what I'm called?
Who am I?
If I say I don't see color, am I a racist?
If I forget your sex, am I an asshole?
If I tell you,
I don't know your name
but I still want to know more about you am I
Denying your identity,
I am キラキラ.
I am sparkles and glitter and yellow and sunshine.
I saw him on the corner of the street,
Holding a sign,
With the same words the rest of them say.
What is he really going to use the money for?
Everyone knows.
I walked into the store,
A child running up and down the aisles,
His mother yelling....
A gainless challenge it is to connect intellect proud with lashes long, eyes veined, and sanguine colors wetly flooding merriment into chapped lips and brown cheeks cratered;
Strange thing, authenticity.
It sort of squirms, morphs, blacks out
When you stare,
But sure enough when you forget it
It's there.
Ah, I'm a warrior-princess!
(I hope.)
I've try to convert if I can
The will of the canvas at my demand
So many different ones to counsel in
Purple, red, yellow, blue or green
A young man dressed in grey
Consumed in a subtle pain
Walks along a path
Woven, built, and made of frayed webbed thread,
A conduit for hidden despairs.
As if some vengeful deity
I see me
Not a me I want to see...
but a me that I can't unseen
A me that is viewed as incadescant in the eyes of the profane
A me that sins to fit in with people that believe
It’s dusk on the hill as
the heady sky rotates slowly above,
silently aglow with vivid pulsing pink
around the edges, like a child’s fingers
eclipsing the dying flashlight of the sun.
I was born with the sun in my teeth and hair
with mercury pouring out of my fingers and toes
Unburdened with the notion of needing to be anything
at recess I practiced the sprinkler
so I could be everywhere at once
One thousand empty chairs
stretch to stage
she meets my face
and suddenly it's noon, i'm
staring in the mirror
: a distorted reflection
two people two strangers
Defines not the whole of my being.
Hosts the absence of vitality and worldly beauty.
Yields contrived images of darkness and the unknown.
Fulfills past shadows of forgotten spirits.
When you see that pretty lone flower you pick.
When you see the random round rock you kick it.
When you see me you see nothing different,
Vulgar
Modest
Deceitful
Honest
Life is full of filters:
Filter what you say,
Filter what you do,
Depending on
Some people contest with me about my own identity,
As if I were a defined word they knew, that I was not keen on understanding.
My pictures have been fake for years
My eyes don't sparkle like they used to
I try to drown out my mind with music and drinks
My heart and soul don’t quite work right
I'm hurting on the inside
I am the trunk of the chopped tree submerged under the weight of trampled earth.
I am the dirt underneath your finger nails.
I have no polish.
I am Sandy's nephew and Katrina's first love.
Every day is a gift,
all the days just flow so swift
try to live positive & for others try to uplift...
<3
You are here for a reason bigger than you
I know some time you wonder what am I here to do?
Is it some thing huge & grand, here...
Because I have imperfect Spanish,
I am never Mexican enough to those who speak better than me
Because I have imperfect English,
I am always too Mexican for those who speak better than me
My mother is weak
And I cannot stand it
She is feeble, stupid, and plain
Who are you?
And where is the woman that I once knew?
You’re a weakling, darling
A scaredy little ghost
God
We cry out to you
With scorching pants
Our crops of passion
Demand satisfaction
Enchanting sight
In chants we cry
"Juliet will never surpass
The fate you store
I am he who seeks but young am I who seeks,
Born of two who do not seek each other,
More of my mom or dad,
This I do not yet know,
Now I must find my place
Away from those who have made me me.
Who am I, through a completely organic lense?
A lense with no skewer or sharpener
no falsehoods or pretends
What am I in an entirely natural glow?
A glow that eminates my true personality
My mind is filled with words and phrases
which are trying their best to seep out onto this page,
but they are being constricted.
Its still lines constricting how much my words can reveal my soul;
I gaze upon the sky and come across stars.
The stars seem to decorate the background of darkness like a beautiful stipple painting.
I notice the moon.
She hangs in the night sky, sitting upon her throne,
Remove the filters that surround our lives.
Don't sugarcoat it
to the ones outside.
The world as we know it can be harsh and cruel,
so let's not pretend
that it always looks cool.
when one takes a scroll through my instgram feed
they see a girl
who is a animal lover,music lover, food lover and a make up enthusias
but when I the stop posing
Who am I deep down?
Am I flawless, or am I hidious.
What do people think of me deep down.
She is perfection, she is distruction.
But deep down I am just me.
I am me.
Not you or her or him or them.
This is me
Unedited,
Unfiltered
me
I am the cries at night when hearts break
The anger when it's broken
I am the fear when the world is coming down
The tension felt when it's falling
I am a teenager
I am reckless
I make mistakes
I stay out late and do nothing
I am on my phone all day
I am a student
I have 3.0 GPA
I am a leader
I take too many AP Classes
I am dark eye circles.
I am nothing but gross, winter skin tapered onto a bored face.
I am yellowed teeth, and thanks to dad, hideous manbrows.
Knowing my true identity
makes me flawless.
Knowing that I can overcome anything
makes me flawless.
Not letting others destroy me into
what I transformed myself to be.
Who am I?Am I the girl that stares into the mirror, internally degrading herself for not beingsociety's sweetheart?Who am I?Am I the lady who cannot keep up with the
Who am I...
I am a genetic mirror
My eyes are those of my mother's mother
Dark brown like the indigenous blood that flows through our veins
My black curly hair
That was a gift from my father's father
Social media is a soul-sucking succubus.
How is that for consonance?
We are all just internet personalities.
THe generation could use some resistence.
Profile pictures are petty portrayals.
I wanted to kiss my name off your lips,
Taking back my identity
Too plain Miss Jane
Hair pulled up
No foundation, just her natural blush.
How plain Miss Jane
Eyes neutral
Fair skin spotted with rose scares.
Pretty plain Miss Jane
Am I just my father's daughter?
Can't I be something more?
I see how his life affects those
Constantly around him
I don't want to be my father's daughter
Am I just my father's daughter?
Being told I am not enough
I get hurt because I care too much
I turn to things that help me up.
The art of makeup makes me forget who I was
I got myself a new identity since I cannot go back to what I was.
A shot in the dark
An idea that just might jump start your heart
A tiny spark
A shot in the dark
I have no apology for my theology
I need God and so do you
What you see before you is not what I see in the mirror. For the mirror knows the true person who always hides behind the mask. Tell me, is it true that the most common mask we put on every day is a smiling face?
I am a body of water
Stretching far and wide
Beyond and away
From my shores, to some unknown
Place
And my body is the water
It rolls and ripples
And my mind is the water
Calm and glassy
Who am I?
I'm a person
I can see my body
So I'm real
I can see my skin
So I'm black
I can think
WOW
As I think I try and put each thought in to words
i am beyond words and ink-stained hands because i've always thought language to be a
limitation
to thought
I am that brown spot on a white sheet
That has climbed a mountain of success
Not only to be defined, yes
But to be unique in this generation, I am blessed
With my brown eyes staring straight forward
Lost......
i was lost
lost alone in the world, no where to go
i looked everywhere and searched for everything
i quit
i gave up
I got so sick of trying
trying to be good enough
Who am I? That's a loaded question.
We are all dense individuals, filled like an overflowing dam with ideas, experiences and contexts.
“Momma can you please braid my hair?”
a ritual request with each daily fading of light from the window
The inner person in the busyness of the city streets.
The hearts have not gone too far. No place too far to not be found at all.
We still continue on.
Am I only the shy girl who sits in the corner named Niki? Am I just another girl in the hall way to you? Did you even take the time to get to know me?
What is money without those you love
Everyone wants grip allow me to be the glove
You wonder why the stars get coked up
While there are people struggling to get coated up
Paint splatterd t-shirts,
accomponied by a librarian nose,
stand erect as a lighthouse.
Vindictive waves may crash,
And temptuous winds may roar.
But I glide over these turbulant seas
Do you remember the first time we met
You showed me Love that I'll never forget
As time went by me and you got real close
Bleached hair, sleeveless shirt,legs covered with a not-long-enough skirt.She’s bad, that girl.Rotten to core.You don’t have to get to know her,just look at what she wore
Throughout my years,
I've been broken down
and I've been built up.
I've loved
and I've lost.
I've changed others
and I have changed.
I've drank
and I've smoked.
I've cried
Looking through my perilous soul
I see nothing but a toll
Is this me I see in this photo
Or just a way to fit in with a motto
Nothing ever seems the same
With filters getting all the fame
My sound?
Is a silent night, I have no music
no beats, or rhythem.
My sound?
Crickets on a summer day.
When I was born they sang.
My sound?
Is a soft noise
I am a pile of leaves waiting to be affected by the winds of time;
Scared of what the future holds.
I lay here calm and collected, my emotions trapped inside;
Bursting at the seems, my sanity is wavering.
Want to hold your hand,
It's right there for me to grab,
I feel close to you,
I'd hate to see you go, don't.
When I was younger,
I used to think that I was overweight
Because my parents would say
"You should lose that tummy of yours."
I'm sure they meant well.
My biggest influence didn't come
My Starbucks coworker said that
“If you were a mode of transportation,
You’d be a tugboat.”
At first I was confused.
All I could think of was a book I had
As a child,
Lost little red-and-white tugboat
Strangers that had a past.
Enemies that had a bond.
Two seperateminds, two seperate hearts.
Trying
Failing
Hurting
The force grows stronger
But it never touches.
Civil War of the heart.
I was fifteen before I realized that no one could ever love me as much as I loved me
And a revelation of poetic, creative, fertile ideas were released inside of me
Mirror Talk
For a while
I’ve been saying what I don’t truly know
I thought I made myself
A long time ago
Looking in a reflection
Hoping my thoughts won’t worsen
They call us
thieves -
filthy, hungry,
bean-eating
wetback thieves.
They look at our
brown skin
and sneer.
But
they do not know
who we really are.
Yes mom, I'd love to help at church on Sunday.
You're so kind to me and I love this family.
Hey buddy, nah those assholes are so annoying,
making me so mad, I want to tell 'em to blow me.
Family…
The definition of it: is a group of persons who came from the same ancestor
Sadly though no one wants a family anymore
From the generation that has now been born
love is nothing to pease
war is death to us all
between god an angels the war is small
to us love is all
peace inposible
war always untll we are dmned
etween devils and god we're left for dust
Break away from everything.
Are you aware of whom you are?
Remember when you were little and you knew
Exactly what you wanted in life?
As we walk on this world
Full of anger and hate
Nos vemos nosotros getting dirty of it
De lejos venimos to look for a dream
Un sueño, that makes us forget what really exists
When I first laid eyes on your goregous caramel skin, round brown eyes, and cheeky smile
I nearly fainted
And so did my parents
I could not keep this love a secret
I would not have it
Do you think she knows?
The way she moves,
Giggling-groveling-grooving
She cares too much of who approves.
Do you think she knows?
How she makes the world turn,
Living-loving-leaping,
You wear a mask like me.
We can both see it,
But neither of us have the courage to say it.
You always go above and beyond for me:
You sacrificed your time
To relieve my pain
Being abstract is not bad.
You don't want to like everyone else.
Being creativity and rare is beautiful.
This world embracres everyones beauty but, tends to forget their own.
I’m not who you think me to be;
I’m not a sweet innocent girl,
waiting or searching for love.
I’m not a delicate little flower,
waiting to bloom.
A friendly face,
for friends and family,
naive grins, boisterous laughs,
plastered across their visage.
A familiar fellow,
warm, kind, and blithe,
never a stranger, or visitor,
The white snow falls from a blue sky gently landing on the land below.
It covers this world in freezing blankets of white
as the dirt beneath quietly hums with the warmth of life.
Who am I?
a girl just trying to survive
working, hoping, trying to be the best I can be
sometimes I may fall
yet somehow I always rise again
my ambitions set me apart from others
I know who I want to be
This fear I feel is formed from my imagination. Constantly contemplating where my life will be stationed.
The True Me?
The True Me is everchanging.
When I try to find it, it morphs because
I was not the same person I was finding it as I was when I found it.
When I see her, few things remain the same:
My mom likes to think I'm just like her
That I love crowds of people and constant noise
That I love calling all attention to myself
And that I like conflict
My mom thinks I hide my real self from the world
You see the Iron Empress
Who standing tall, stoic, regal.
She hides the Carefree Clown
Who could entertain for hours.
She hides the Lovesick Maid
Blinded by love unrequited.
The pale ghost stares at the filthy mirror.
He sees not himself; with that happy scowl and playful temperment.
The pale ghost makes the suface clearer.
He sees not himself, but his own warm disembodiment.
Stress, sadness, fear,wory. I have a mask to cover
that up. Boredom, anger, doubt, loneliness, confusion,
regret. I can hide it. There truly is no know emotion
Why can't anyone see the me that is truly me?
All they see is a mask
That does the un me task
the one that shows no fear
the one who is not really here
I wish to show you the me that is really me
I am a mask,So many think they know who I am,but they don't care to ask,Yes, they are content with my maskWho am I? One of many made to pleaseWho is me?
Pay no attention,
To the girl behind the curtain.
She's got nothing to say.
Her voice is not important.
Pay no attention,
To her weakened state.
I guess I should just tear you off
Because you seem to want to define me
I guess because I resemble a Hershey's kiss
I'm just as smart as one but half as sweet
Because I look like I'm from African
They made me wear a mask when I was younger.
Days went by and a new stitch was added to the mask.
It was starting to fit my face perfectly.
"Do this," they said.
"Do that," they demanded.
My heart bleeds
onto the glaring whiteness
of this canvas.
Oh how should
I state the story
of my soul?
Staining the white canvas
with colour.
Red.
I won’t apologize
for my complex emotions that can be your ecstasy or your next nightmare.
I won’t apologize
for being the one who won’t bow down to your word and whim.
Can you not see who I am?
Hatred bound to a soul constantly witnessing discrimination of WHO I AM,
Ringing in my ears, “You’re black, act like it!” “You’re female, act like it!” “You can’t break the mold.”
I don't know how i came to be.
When a deer approaches...
I am suddenly a deer.
I hear the breaking of twigs,
the whoosh of the leaves stirring.
I watch the deer graze...like an alarm for impending hell.
Who am I?I'm the girl in the corner that keeps her quiet and to herself.
I'm the girl that has the crush on that one cute popular guy in school.
Identity is the flint of the modern age
Sparks rain when we shape who we are
Nations big and small all share their drowned voice
What is mine, you ask? Well, I'll tell you
All you see is the exterior form
Instantly you judge me by my face, clothes and background
Yeah I'm different, isn't everyone?
Flawed human beings we are
Hiding behind, creating an illusion
You may think you know me.
You see my smile,
the pep in my step,
the flitter in my voice.
You may think you know me,
but you only know my mask.
My mask is smiling,
Being alone and often watching the blissful life of others,
you often sit and contemplate,
why am I drowning in my sorrow?
why am I brimming with hate?
Is it because i'm not optimistic?
The man behind the curtain, the face behind the mask.
One beautiful soul, behind a treacherous task.
A woman of inseurity, concentrating on what she lacks-
Its funny that this Slam was chosen, I had written a litteral poem my freshman year literally called "The Mask"
The mask is constructed
To hide you away
You appear happy
You appear kind
People think her cold
People think her bitter
People think her strange
People think her just like them
People think her cruel
Confident, Shy
which is the lie?
What do they wish to see?
Why can't they leave me be?
Strong, Weak
I can barely speak.
What they see and what they know
all of which is just a show.
There she stands, with her past far behind her. Yet so close it just reminds her. Memories of the mistakes and the bullies. The disability that has kept her.
I have a secret identity
I don't want others to see
You need a key
To set me free
I have a big weakness
I can't love myself
I have my uniqueness
But is there anything else?
That girl people see walking down the hallway in school. Do they know that she is me and I am her? Crazy it might seem to some that she is a part of me. That crazy and loud girl who somehow manages to get staright As in all her classes.
My life is ridden,with lies hiddenof a dark past belowthe pain I bestowkeeps me below.My identity is lost,I want to find it at any cost,my life is riddenwith lies hidden,
Verse 1:
We taint the air with idle words
Cause sticks and stones hurt the most
What’s a jab to the bird?
What’s a duel to a roast?
Shoot….
Here I sit,
Mind opened,
Thoughts spilling onto the floor,
Creating a raging sea.
A sea so vast,
A sea so wide,
A sight so magnificent I nearly cried.
There is no plan of action,
I put on the cap and the uniform
To please the people that give me money.
I follow their rules with a synthetic smile
To appease the ones I work for.
I complete the caustic piles of work
I can analyze the dichotomy
Of good and evil
Light and dark
Life and death
Not one without the other
The ying to the yang
The extremes of both sides
Cliches so easy to analyze
I am a coward.
I'm too scared to face myself..
Too scared to find myself.
I'm always running away from thinking about the inevitable.
I run away from reflecting on them.
In the past, I was the one that was intelligent.
I was the quiet one.
I was the teacher’s pet.
I was criticized for being a girl on the drumline.
I was the one that played too soft.
I was the liked one.
I am from my Dad’s trumpet calls announcing early church services
I’m from words and phrases composed with love and tears
From late night prayers kneeling by my bed wrapped in more than just my pink blanket
Like a caged bird, I pretend to be happy
I have to be the perfect daughter, friend, student and girl
Like a caged bird, I am left alone
No one seems to acknowledge the fact that I feel isolated from society
One
It is about time you realized that you are black
you still don’t know what that means
But one day you will
And you will never have felt more beautiful or misunderstood
Oh Geez, this breeze, this wind in my soul isn't easy.
The reason for this change of season is beyond my grasp,
just beyond the looking glass.
At times I am estatic, fantastic but delayed,
You have to love me for who I become
what I create, what I say, what I see,
what I give, not what I take.
You cannot love me for what I need
what I want, what I’ve been given.
Too inconsistent to be myself,
I am three thousand pieces of a mask
Ripped up and stuck together
With brittle glue and strings:
Promises
But they never hold.
I’m a shape shifter,
I.
I am saturated in vivid hues
Painted by my culture,
A life I didn’t choose,
Mere stone formed into a sculpture.
These decisions are not mine,
A stranger’s language spoken,
I will look upon a normal tree,
Robust trunk and swinging leaves,
Then realize I wanted a flower.
I’ll tell myself it could be one,
Then it is, the transformation done,
Less of a tree with each passing hour.
Everyday is the same as yesterday
I fight to be a new me but it always flees
The chance to change my families name itches at my mind
That new me must come up and rise
The female identity
Is not to be confused
With the male entity
On what they think
What they say
Or what the media portrays
And they?
They’re the men
and also the women
This is between the two of us: a rift. A raft, and a river. A ribbon of word, ear to ear, half to half, space to sky.
I've often gone in search of my identity,
Posing the question: Who am I?
A one point in time, I sang, "I am a musician",
For music has been a great passion of mine for as long as I can remember,
Am I more like the lone tree of the Prairie?
Of the Savanna?
Tall, tanned with a puff on top.
No one sees my roots.
Are they are lost?
Unseen, un-kept?
Words don’t define me,
"Erasure,"
It's a word that's been
Thrown around lately
Something
That has unfortunately
Been brought to my attention
Because it is about me,
It is me.
I have been "erased"
A few years back someone asked me “why do you act so white?”
After a moment of hesitation I simply responded “but I’m black…”
Later I then thought to myself “am I really black or am I white?”
I have not one, but two names
One means, "who is like God"
The other, a variation of a flower
It also means unblemished, virginal
You decide, you pick, it makes no difference
300 years of slavery,
300 years in chains,
One hundred years of bravery,
This finally led to change.
Fifty years later followed Obama’s campaign,
Somehow we are still scared from all the previous pain,
Theres two of us hereOr maybe threeI don’t know anymoreI stopped knowing a long time ago.
Or was it recent.But it doesn’t matter because theres not just one.Thats bad.Right?
I am both the hero of my own story and his twisted evil twin, foiling myself at every turn. Telling myself that I can do it one moment and screaming NO in my face the next.
Advice given me when I am in trial
Whether through example
Or egregious error
Or candid words
You are the explanation for my ability to reach for success.
I live with no sense of identityBlack-Female-Gay-They all represent meBut being stuck in a mundane placeGasping for air and spaceLeft with this double-sided face
Behold Teacher!
I am the perfect teen!
I am exactly who you want me to be.
I never break the law and your homework is my hobby.
I prefer reading the dictionary to TV
For the Ones that Are Muted in Society
For the Ones that Are Ridiculed for Their Differences
For the Ones that Are Slammed for Their Opinions
For the Ones that Are Voiceless
They Are Who I Speak For
We feel the need to change ourselves.
Rearrange ourselves.
Our features and faces, we wax and we tweeze
Applying the colorful goos and powders as we please.
And why? In the name of those around us.
I Am Two
By: Autumn Alston
I am two. Two worlds forged together, each crippled by negative history,
Two forces, diametrically opposed, when combined, producing a mystery.
-Redefine beauty. Extract all the melanin from my skin, or add just a bit more to yours and let's see what difference it makes in our personalities. No change.
Remember when I made her smile?
Lips parted like you haven’t seen for some time.
Those thoughts
The ones that plagued her mind.
Those that caused her to pick up the yellow bottle. Empty it.
Who are you?The question is asked and a crisis begins.They wait as if I'll answer on cue,
I cannot act, I cannot sing
But allow me to tell you what I bring
An artful imagery similar to that of a painting
Without the brush, no rush
Who told us that life would be so hard
Our past haunting us,
The future looming ahead,
We struggle to enjoy and succeed in the present.
I have given up the hope for my life to be perfect
Who was I?I was a little girl who went to mass every Sunday and sang “Santo Santo Santo” to the heavens as the salseros played sprightly music in the balcony of the church.
Who was I?I was a little girl who went to mass every Sunday and sang “Santo Santo Santo” to the heavens as the salseros played sprightly music in the balcony of the church.
I am a driver, halting at stop signs;
only staying briefly at each one.
I am concentrated on a single mysterious destination.
And perhaps I veer off the road
running into a stop sign and leaving a mark
when you were little, did you ever play hide and seek? there’s always one kid who hides in the closetif it was you, you know whythe closet’s warm and dark and quiet and as long as you stay silent, no one can tell you’re there
Living in amber
Rigidly transfixed on them
They, the elitists
They have no idea
What He and the Devil
Portend to reveal
Change consumerism
Heck, do I even know who I am anymore?
I mean, I knew who I was back in middle school…
weird, crazy, out-there, cool with everyone…
a nerdy, lovable-type kid—that was me
But now I’m in high school
Don't define the undefinable
People are not words, people cannot be broken down
No dictionary can tell me who to be
No thesaurus can find something similar
So neither can you.
Everyone says:
Your hatred is unreasonable, unfathomable, and irrational.
So why continue to say that name in place of my own?
You are the NIGGER
The low-down and the dirty.
The hatred.
i wonder who it could be
that would want me for me
who could include my faults
in whats best of me
why cant i see
when will he show
its been a dream of mine
he holds the key
In Stranger in a Strange Land, ‘to grok’means “to understand so thoroughly thatthe observer becomes a part of the observed"
There are those that make the most asinine of assumptions
Is willful ignorance funny?
Who are those who quell their voices in the midst of rustling leaves
and perceived as either mute or dumb?
Cars, and toys, and rug burns
I am a boy. I am a boy.
Basketball, hip-hop, down the block.
I am black. I am black.
Hello, my name is
"Chinese"
"Japanese"
"Dirty knees"
"Look at these"
"Criss cross"
"Apple sauce"
"Do me a favor and get lost"
To be recognized One must have something to be recognized forAnd I, Well, I have nothingI have the world to walk uponBut it is not mine
Our ancestry shall not define usWe are as much a piece of the pastAs an integral portion of the futureAnd yet we are not only that
Questionin innocenceNeed tuh cleanse n replenish dis effed up conscience.Hoodie up, arizona n skittles in his pocketsSuspicionLife taken away for foolishness of self defense?
They think that I’m redThe kind of crimson that comes from loud mouths and smart remarksThe scarlet of sarcasm that stems from quick witFrom quips that taste like fire and sound like flame
Sometimes I have a hard time picturing myself sitting behind a desk, or standing in a gym, or flipping burgers.
In other words, I have serious issues.
Dr. Seuss was right when he said "today you are you, and that is truer than true there is no one alive who is youer than YOU"
I am from the cliffs of Scotland,
with dreams of the Emerald Isle
and the tight laces, heavy skirts of the South.
I am from the sewing machine,
the book-keeper's pen,
and the defiant wife.
When I was younger,
I used to think that
our teenage years would be
different.
I thought we'd all be happy
and have boyfriends.
But in reality,
we're all depressed.
No father
mother here
but really there
I am here
but really
where?
nature
or really nurture?
Asian-American immigrant
Born in the East, thrown to the West
My best was all I could give
For the past five years I've accumulated fears
Fistfuls of tears that fill the tank in which I'm drowning
I.
Where do the days go
When a mind smooths itself above
The rippling bubble
Aimlessly resting
Unaware of the big pop.
Where will the days go?
II.
Old
I write because it seems that's all I can do.
I write because I love you.
It's a matter of understanding, of liberating
The heart and soul and mind
And find the talisman that will bring you spirit and joy
We shall overcome one day,
Are the words that the leaders use to say,
God Let us have justice is what they'd pray,
Please let the pain and suffering go away.
Now the people recite those words no longer,
If I could only write,
one more time in my life,
To say all these words,
that have never been said,
I definitely wouldn’t be writing
for a scholarship.
Money, power, wealth, gain,
I said I got to keep my head above water - James harden in OKC bring me off the clutch time in the 4th quarter - Its funny nowadays how people don’t want you to make - nothi
I feel lost.
Like I could never be found.
Like I'm wandering around in a dry and barren plain. Cut off from civilization and people.
I feel trapped.
Who am I and where have I been
I feel like butter that's been spread too thin
I've lost myself trying to fit in
And that's society's poison
I feel afraid to look for the real me
I want people to be afraid of me,
I want them to look into my eyes and shiver at the darkness that they see.
I want everyone I meet to remember my name,
Something reminiscent of power, influence, or fame.
I will be whoever the fuck I want.
Let me repeat that.
I, Faith Rider, will be, whoever, whatever, the fuck I want.
Everyone is putting themselves in boxes,
"I'm straight!."
"I'm Gay!"
"I'm Bi!"
i thought that your flesh
should be the perfect canvas
and she gazed into the hand glass
hoping the reflection would sing something new
she bottled some earth for safe keeping
When it is between white and color it's all over the news,
But when its black against black it gets no views!
This is normal just like sinners behind pews.
How is the stench of dead boys on the streets nothing new?
What if the truth,
was really a lie?
What would you say,
if I told you that's what I live by?
The lies are only there,
there to hide the pain,
the sorrow, the sad,
the everything.
I tried to write in a smile,
but it ended up a frown,
I tried to write it upside right,
But it ended up upside down.
I tried to write it in like summer,
but it ended up so cold.
I counted to ten,
I'm done! Where are you?
I can't find you...
Will you come out soon?
I miss seeing you,
Hearing your voice.
I miss being with you,
Hiding wasn't your choice.
Popularity is our aim.
Potential fame is our game.
Being the best, forgetting the rest.
Who needs the loyal friends.
We flock like birds.
Orignality blown away in the wind.
Black letters scrawled indifferently
Staining ivory paper indefinitely
Concrete in deed and purpose, inherently
Welcome to Chicanos- r-us
We service all of your needs
Will school principals go to isle 12?
We still have a few janitors here
Desperate for a job
Yes, they are Mexican
Ready for their graveyard shift
Who am I?
Am I a hero?
Am I a villain?
A star, a role model, a mother?
Who will I be...
When I venture through the darkest of caves
Will I emerge to see the light?
Who can I be?
Conformity is like a box,
Your as sly as a fox.
You try to sneak in your ways,
This is not a game everyone plays.
Its so serious,
Dont act mysterious.
I have my beleifs as you do yours.
I have no culture,
No background,
No heirlooms;
I have no memories
Of the deceased,
Of the forgotten.
I have some pictures,
Some drawings,
Some presents,
That doesn't mean
Look at me, what do you see?
A picture of average nationality,
American girls in picture books.
Come here, come closer and take a look!
All you see: brown hair, blue eyes,
Coming in at five foot five!
I’ve ask, and ask, and ask,
Over and over again,
What is my purpose?
Am I supposed to be here?
Why was I born?
And over and over again,
Questions went unanswered
Raised by the vernacular, but taught to adapt.
Thug life…never ran after her, I kept my moral code intact.
But what do they see…
What society has painted individuals who look like me to be.
I have heard it said
That our souls have feathers.
I don’t know whether this is true
But I-
I am a magpie.
A collector
Of the ornate
The obscure
The outdated
Once a generation lived Anonymous.
They had an inescapable forbidden love.
Parents blame it on incompetence;
Forbidden because of its godliness;
Anonymous to afraid of the consequence,
I'm sorry, I hadnt realized that correct grammar and proper English was only something one race could doMy mother never told me I had to talk in slang, incomplete sentences, & silly colloquial speech
You taught us A-B-C, 1-2-3,
Reach high scores on SATs,
But when do I learn to be me?
Everytime I look at a paper it has:
Black, White, Chinese, Indian, etc...
Why can't it just say American?
I don't want to be labeled as those things,
I'm not black, I'm not white,
I'm just an American.
You would think by now
Wait no, you should know by now I should leave
Leave it all
Wait, that just isn't right either
Can I ask a question?
I just did huh?
And there I go again
S-C-H-O-O-L
Eating rosebuds
my cheeks start to flush
the once translucent skin
becomes the rouge that victorian women pinch their cheeks for.
lovely lace
falls on ashen skin
and it drags across violet fields
i find myself
in the 36 scattered people
yet
they seem half asleep
as if I had met them in a dream
i searched and i searched
for the place that I called home
but
identity controls behavior
identity controls emotions
identity controls how we feel
identity controls how we think
identity controls how we carry ourselves
Identity determines our behavior
Black, Black, What is black?
I am African-American now thats a fact
Being a person of color does not differ me from others
My ethnicity is of many shades, like leaves changing colors in the fall phase
Ever since creation our ultimate goal
was to become
Neglected
Individuals
Gracefully
Giving
Everybody
Remarkable
Soul
Black skin
eyes made of Gold
There's no point in being someone that you aren't. The act will be obvious and off-putting. Besides, what are you gonna do if he wants the fake you?
His game was astronomical
This young boy who loved to hunt
In the underbrush of the forest
sun halve past twelve
A fox appeared ahead
Golden fur and bright brown eyes
Let me screeeeeeeeeeam
Let me shout to the world
Show them what I am capable of
I’m invisible
Minute
A mute
So hear me yell
Hear me shout
Take these chains off my wrists,
take them off my ankles.
Take this mask off my face,
take it off right now!
These chains held me back!
That mask held my face,
held my true identity.
He was my age when he died,
a boy who would now never grow up.
I don't know what it's like
to grow up hated and feared
by simple minds and closed hearts.
I don't know what it's like
The legend of my people
Swept under torrents of napalm
Behind stars of lead
Drinking storms of Orange
Subsistence of my blood
Obscured by molding bread
By confabulations of scars
Lost inside something
That doesn’t exist,
Huddled in the corner,
Hiding my face.
Broken to pieces,
Glued back together.’
Stolen from my mind,
That piece that’s missing
Who shall I praise in my moment of glory
Who shall I praise in my moment of pity
Who shall I praise when I need to be happy
Who shall I praise when I cry like a baby
Who shall I praise when I don't know who to be
Writing
What is it?
It is a form of language we all know
yet many do not use.
What is its purpose?
It lets us "speak" our thoughts
not aloud, but on paper
Why do we write?
Tell me. Who do you see?
When I look in the mirror... Who looks back at me?
Who should I see? Who am I really?
I sit here, thinking heavy
My young brother, no intent of harming any
Walking with a hood on is that a threat?
But with his black skin many scream death
Skittles, tea
What harm could that be?
In the beginning of this love affair with poems
I learned I
was empowered
by the way words flowed from my pen.
I saw that
it was a unique talent that
not many got
and fewer choose to practice.
I was born here
I came from there
My body is here
My soul is there
My words are here
My thoughts are there
My feet walk here
My mind runs there
My bones lay here
Negritude…
A conceptual ideology in the tenets of humanity
A construed solidarity in a common black identity
Abstruse in such arcane a concept?
They always has an opinion
formulating what's wrong or right
They utter words that damage hearts
destroy dreams
and alter lives
The life of the innocent is taken by the sinner... They said "Black skin, wild hair, how could they not be barbaric? For these chains all men, now and future, will share it. No peace for man.
Listen.
Miscommunication sucks.
The people involved in this travesty feel unheard and underappreciated.
The Yellow Jacket zips up to its neck
The fly should be zipped down but its attracted to the fruit of our neglect.
The Arch hive patterns the nature of all respects
But Guerilla warfare hides behind evolutionary concepts.
With nowhere to turn, my life flashes by. Looking around and nowhere to hide. I know all these faces, and they all know mine. The same faces day after day. They get comfortable with not saying hey. Walking around with nowhere to belong.
Perfect flowers do exist.
But only where the good people are.
When I close my eyes at night—
I like to think that only then am I waking up—and everything else is a dream.
Never what I am,
always looking for Me,
life follows no plan,
we're tossed in a stormy sea.
We walk on trial,
walk down death row,
while accusations pile,
While you were busy resurrecting instances of critical synthesis the head nurse beat you to the sliver of hope, rinsed it out and out came a question"where am I?" I don't know kid, that's what we're all trying to find out "hey, where's Tweedl
They are broken, shaking, bitter and lost—
I know it well.
I have been standing in the dark
Shadowy corner of my cave,
Shivering in the mildewed enclosure.
I have scraped at these rocks
Pretty girls dance across the room
A parade of blonde hair, red hair, dark hair, light hair
Sleek and shiny
Bouncy and fluid
The kind of hair I dream about
Girls bend and sway in the morning sun
I am the poet
Full of pain
Full of dreams
Full of desires
The page is my escape
The words are my children
I fill them with bittersweet thoughts
until they can no longer take it
Though my skin is white, I still have to fight.
For education, equality, acceptance. I promise I'm bright.
Actually, I'm Hispanic, but you couldn't tell by my skin.
Call myself hispanic, and it's considered a sin.
It's not a burning sensation
More like a puffing
As though you wish to look down
See your eyes fall out of their sockets
Sides are picked, muskets raised
Grey and blue, wool blood stained
The Union must stay intact, but
Brother versus brother are being attacked
In the end, all people are free
We buy our sterotypes off of tv subconsciencely we feed our ignorance without a black face and watermelon red lips but with a pretty face and round ass we've become americas number one pupets our sistahs aunties and mothers have been degraded to o
Here's it
here's that
here's everything.
the discovery, the rise, the fall
the fall, so steep, so black, so surprising
sliding on your skeleton
carrying your deserved cross
remember?
My name.
Since the day I was born,
My destiny was owned by others.
They gave me that name,
Tied to their rotting family tree.
I hated to hear it,
For it only meant trouble.
Snap, Pop, Crack!
There goes an elbow with one firm grasp.
La la la watching those tears mixed in,
Is water, blood, and all the hope
plus determination flowing from that corpse
The colors of the rainbow, hmmmmm!
Red, Orange, Yellow, Green, Blue, Indigo and Violet;
Let’s add White and Black.
Why not even Gold and Silver?
Child you are beautiful
You are the darkest bark
Covered in a sheen from the purest honey
The earth grew grass to soften your tread
The trees grew leaves to lessen your heat
The flowers bloom every morning
A teenage girl cries in her bed
"You're going to hell," the message read.
Is it a sin to be in love?
What makes you think you're that much above?
Show me where in your holy book it reads
Today I take a stand, I take an oath I make a promise, to be the best woman that I can, dignified, untainted, and honest, I will be what God defines me as, instead of a product of my past, so I hold fast to what God says about me, forgetting what
You think this is funny.
Making fun of the sticker that claims me.
You take it off me, so aggressively, as you place it on your neighbors arm.
“You are now number 4131” you giggle as you read the name of my new identity.
As the moon swells from still waters below
The sky turns a dark indigo
Yet another calm night has granted us rest
And blest are those who soundlessly sleep
Who are you?
Walking Down the streets, unseen
You're falling
No one can hear you calling.
White noise-dead quiet
The beating of your heart is gone.
Who were you supposed to be?
Going down a broken path;
You wonder how long it will last.
You're blinded by the dark that's surrounded you
And you're not quite sure what else to do.
I dedicate myself to public speaking
Peaking subtly along with the days and nights and weeks and whatever comes next
Sometimes I talk too much
It’s not enough to always think after I
Open my mind up,
I wake up in the morning, looking like I had a rough night tears on my cheeks from me crying myself to sleep.
I look in the mirror who am I.
The rumbling of the drums to the
gathering of the clans are
where we began.
Mothers and fathers together as one
uplifting their precious child.
Culture, visions, and lives all destroyed
I float like a butterfly, sting like a bee
Knock you out faster than Muhammed Ali
Because the situation in this nation
requires some retaliation, vindication and education.
In the beginning,
There was a God for all
A fierce parent
Loving and righteous.
But men bent him
In their own image-
A lily-white God with blond hair
Fair and beautiful
And biased.
The gym is my Tabernacle,
A place I long for, a place I seek.
A safe haven from all the daily disgust.
The gym is a war against my muscles, A place my sprit is freed,
I must know your name
what secrets lie beneath your face
what tears run thick through your veins
I must know your name
Speak it
Tell it to me slowly
let your fingers
rather than your tongue
I can't stay young forever.
I am not Peter Pan.
I am just a man.
Life creeps on
and on,
forcing us to go.
I want to turn back.
Run. Hide. Run. Hide.
But time moves forward,
A Good Black Man
Our old memories of you
Fly by us fast
And everything we
REMEMBER of u is now in the past
You once told my mommy
If you work she wouldnt
HAVE to work again
A good black man
I need to see my pain
I need to
I need to
Cry for help?
how
I just want it to go
away
disappear
be different.
If only
If only
If only I were stronger
Smarter
I’ve got so many pictures and so many thoughts.
Oh I’m so blue, there’s just so much to do!
I’m scrolling towards infinity.
Should I reblog it, queue it, or like it?
Should I post a picture, a video, or a blog?
But I love him.
Of course I do. I love him more than the world.
But that isn't real love. No. My love is just a phase.
A test of my parents will.
Because why would i love him? I'm only a boy.
I don't understand
This violence
It sickens me
To be cruel is so easy
Yet to be kind is so difficult.
I find this hard to believe.
Although to look on the outside
To believe, is so difficult.
Unlike you,
my copper skin glazes in the sun.
And my almond eyes twinkle.
Unlike you,
I sweat the fruits of my labor,
and make my living plucking from your collection
of cotton.
Unlike you,
I can't help it but to feel
Times wasting away.
With me sitting here
Without words to say;
With everything to say.
This little voice of mine
With big things to portray,
In such a loud place around.
Silent beauty
Fluid grace
Eyes open wide
Head up in space
She speaks of the world
Yet knows so little
And speaks of her pain
emotions brittle
Shhhh! Do not you dare compare him to I!
For he was not born within a skin that does not comply.
I am beautiful, of this I have no doubt,
But this is a fact, not a way to stand out.
My name means something.
It means everything to me.
My name is Latisha. Not Lakeisha. Not Laquisha. Not Latesha. Not Latosha.
There's no K, no Q, no E,no O!
If I am to be one thing,
let me be transparent.
No, not to fade off this earth.
Let me reveal the dreams I nurture within me.
Let my past be exposed.
Let my inspirations and drives
radiate through me—
Some tears say I’m sorry
Some beg please look at me.
Some tears ask just hold me.
Some tears say leave me please.
Some tears say help me… when I feel alone.
Give that I will
Give that I must
They let me walk
They let me run
But I'm forced to crawl while they have fun
They take my keep
They make me weak
They give demands
I don't comprehend
Days and days have went by
still here I stand in this cold night
telling you all about my misery
yes, for this will all stay in history
As our fathers and mothers fight for liberty
Days and days have went by
still here I stand in this cold night
telling you all about my miser
yes, for this will all stay in history
Identity
Is an interesting concept to me
I was me when I was young
But now different words and ideas flow from my tongue.
My name has been Quincy from then to now
Statements that stay behind closed doors, they stay in the room
Hover above your head
Seep into your mind fall into your river of thoughts
Sink deep into your conscious
Straying off to your emotions
You might as well fuck
For virginity, if you war
On account of peace.
Life is full of irony.
Fraught from the plurality of man
Uniformity mistaken for marching to your own beat.
I hide from you all.
My true self, I cannot recall.
You see what you want to see.
I display a fake identity.
Struggling within the mindtricks of doubt,
A voice corresponding the everlasting route.
A system of finding possible self definition.
A move to the dance inwhich lacks a transition.
Eyes closed, head back
My mind tries to comprehend
Bombs blowing up my family
Racist slurrs towards my president
Teens lacking amibition and inspiration
Or
Perhaps they were inspired afterall
Waiting
In the fog of the distance,
impatient, searching for you.
A faceless creature with features blurred,
blurred by the ominous presence
of the fog, thick and frightening.
Gazing off into space with her deep brown eyes
Pleading for someone to notice
All the sorrow she hides
Deep in her heart
Only knowing that tears are not enough
All her memory’s flow out of her mind
I felt myself
drifting
flying
soaring
All eyes on me,
my mask adhered,
my smile plastered,
on plastic face.
What’s this feeling?
If I’d rather watch
Will I ever rather roam?
If I’d rather dwell on futures
Will there ever be just one?
If I never talk about it
Will they leave me here alone?
If I never
Is rather a choice?
my mind is a hidden garden
where my thoughts grow wild
dandelions, savage blossoms,
beautiful weeds, overgrown
from blowing too many wishes
into the wind
I am the man that killed no one
While people protest to free the son
Of Martina
I pray to God for ya!
I am Too Blind in the light Too fresh, too hood, too...Ghetto
World uses me like a puppet; Geppeto
African Americans need to Stop, and think
We want to see the Intellectual abilities you can bring,
Hey, you!
Me? Me who?
Me with the glasses?
Me who is short?
Me who is heavy?
Me with soft, clear skin?
Me with tea-streaked skin?
Me with milk-brown eyes?
Me with dark, vancant eyes?
Music is my life,
it helps me sleep at night
it gets me up and high unto sky,
it gives me courage, when I sing in the choir at church,
I burst into flames of happiness, and
An empty heart leaves room for the mind to roam,
Thoughts unspoken rotting in your brain growing old.
your self conscientious only left to connect with your soul.
I'm what?!?
Oh you say i'm weird
as in erie, different, or abnormal, right?
Does it bother you....
you know, that i'm not like you or your crew
Am i offending you?
Well sorry to hear that!
Express yourself?
Forgotten
Classes
Routine
Every Day LIfe
expression?
variety?
More is less, Less is more
large audience
younger
older
What is my audience?
"Inspiration"
I laugh, cry and think
smile-I feel it now..
Inspiration here to play a role
Flipped on like the light switch of my soul.
Dear Jordan Davis,
When you felt 8 foreign metals scratch its way through your chest,
did it drown out the music?
The Spirit churns
Like the grinding of cogs
The breath of the Spirit
Is the blackest of fogs
It glides through the sky
It makes not sound
But for the chortle of rich men
No other voice can be found
All I ever wanted was to be beautiful.
Like new mothers,
like flickering candles in dark rooms
like flowers pressed into books
like new shoes...
The Light
that comes when they finally see
a figment becoming reality.
The Shadows
that once existed
in the outskirts
of their mind,
resides in their hands.
The Inspiration
I am from purple mountains majesty,With its red rocks and dry, unforgiving air.I am from a mid-American suburbiaWhere outsiders still think we ride horses to school.
We live in a land,
supposedly free.
Good men died
for you and me.
WE can live our life,
to pursue our dream.
Unattainable to others
not for my brothers.
If you're gay, black, or anything else;
Choose
Between
Hate or love
WHITE OR BLACK
Wrong or right
Parents or soul mate
Holding back or holding hands
Being ashamed or being proud
Seeing skin or seeing soul
The way the ignorant bystander lurks,
Enclosed with thoughts and society pressure,
Cradles their mind possessing hundreds of blisters,
Thinking they might overcome the silence.
I am not dark skin.
I am the sound of deep cognition.
I am the voice of thought-provoking composition.
So, if you feel like you are fiending just to stay and listen;
Intelligence used to be a virtue,
Ignorance used to hurt you,
But in the past few decades the roles have reversed . . . I though about rhyming but now it's a free-verse,
attacked, chained and forced on ships
brought to a land to face hardships
there is a light shining above us
illuminating our many shadeds of brown
unique souls and great minds that shaped
I'm known to be a dreamer,
It's my way of sanctuary
but surrounded by closed minds,
Made me less a believer
I am a dreamer, but darkness shrouds me
Storms my mind until my memory
Is washed away
Here I dissociate, alone in awe I am taught
I see what the silence has tried to show me all along
occasionally blinded by intent of the selfish sort
I can never truly understand until I learn to dissolve
Here's to the parents
who think they're always right,
and here's to the mem'ries
that keep you up at night.
Here's to the days
when you can't find the light,
and here's to the demons
Piercing eyes glare at unfamiliar faces
Awaiting rejection
So use to backs being turned, hearts being broken
There's rejection.
Unrevealed truths, broken promises
Kyler Leon Nathan IV is who I am,
Always have been, always will be,
Shy, yet filled with dormant energy,
I strive to succeed evading all obstacles,
I keep my head held high, yet my nose is still level,
On April 4, 1968, Martin Luther King, Jr. was assassinated in Memphis, Tennessee.
What is black?
And, what does it feel like?
Black. maybe its constriction in dark, damp chambers,
and gusts of fresh air once you've come to face the sun.
Industrial Revolution
Builds on her the loneliest right.
Liberty has occupation,
Though she's victim of Mans' old rite.
They call us blacks not only because of the color of our skin,
but because...once upon a time,
we were like shadows.
Black shadows that trailed behind white bodies.
Afraid, and hidden.
Her hair in neat braids, her frock a stainless white
Gazing at the wispy clouds that curl against a cerulean sky
She approaches the white picket fence and waves hello—
It is 1956.
Everything used to be so black and white
Suits that men wore, the color on a T.V. screen,
The photographs that took hours to print.
But so were the beliefs of our countrymen.
It was either black or white—no gray area.
At the beginning there was no love,
Only hate,
But from one man, a brave man,
Layed our society’s fate.
There was sadness and despair,
And enough hatred to kill,
Let’s Go Back!!
Let’s Go Back, back in time, where we began to rhyme
Singing hymns to kill times, of inequality,
let’s go back where we loved each other
while marching for justice
They say choose your battles carefully, but our side of the starting line was chosen for us. Pick by some biased hand in advance, with no perspective for the past or future. We were held hostage in the present with no escape but survival itself.
(Civil Rights make it possible for me to attend this school...thanks...
to go learn and make better life
to marry a red blue green or black wife
I don't know
Now I can see me and her
See him and her and them
She was Born to be Judged
Judged to be Born,
She inspired those of her color,
Those of her class,
Those of her gender,
To be something more,
To defy what people thought of her,
It would’ve been an honor to be a Freedom Rider
To be able to fulfill my desire
To sacrifice my life for a change
For the exchange
Of a better tomorrow
I have the right to school
I have the right to live my way
You have no say
I have the right to speak
Thats my rule
To live everyday
I have rights
Who do you think you are
playing God and deciding our destinies
planting unnecessary scars
claiming our rights are but fantasies?
One man willing to stand up for his rights,
one woman willing to fight,
A man who has a dream for equality in the nation,
The woman on the bus encountering frustration,
Your color does not make you
Your language does not define you
Your neighborhood should not break you
You are you
not what they say
not what they think
you are you
I am stricken with the paint of bigots,
Cast in the colors they throw on me.
I am mulatto, all coffee and cream.
But when I am looked at, not seen, but looked at,
Together as one we stand
The smell of equality is so sweet
Together as one we stand
Our thirst for freedom cannot be beat
What’s the meaning of pursuit of happiness when I can barely exist
When I’m treated like a quarantine disease
When they’re waiting for the next headline to pronounce “New cure for the ‘Adam and Steve’ & the ‘Madam and Eve’”
Everyday we walk
Everyday we keep silent
Everyday we wait
We wait, for God gave us patience
We wait, for success comes in time
We wait, for our voices are still merging into one
Equality, easy as the breaths we take? It's a mind set of minds we make. We have the power to teach and train. We have the power to stop with our blame. You inherit control to set the new path.
I ain't done nothing to you
I ain't even looked at you funny
All I ever done is be me and all you ever done is
Hate me
The simple air of a whistle.
Clean outside air, sweet perfume, cigarette smoke
From the usual porch sitters
Outside Bryant’s grocery store.
Nana tells me,
‘White people pale ‘cause all they kindness been drained outta ‘em.’
Shushin’ her with the harshness of a kettle at boil,
Is Mama,
Scolding her for fibbin’ to me.
Grunting irritation,
My father will never understand the constant frustration
that runs through my mind when I think to chase him.
To run after the man who has my heart but it's an abomination
Why does the mockingbird sing?
Why does she lift her head to die?
Is it the color of her wings?
Or is it the passion in her cry?
The lash of the whip
doesn't define who I am
the burning sun's rays upon my back
don't tell me what my purpose is
it's the tender hugs of my children
that remind me of who I am
a mother, wife, sister, aunt
Birds have beautiful colors.
Their feathers of red and blue and golden yellow
ruffle together against the sky.
Let me break into your thoughts,
I’m a mindbomb, ticking time bomb.
Seven years I wore the the veil
shielded myself and kept pale
news shunned like yesterday’s mail
happier than my previous trail
The harmonious step
Like Ants—Strong in Numbers
Like Tributaries Leading to a River
Starts with a trickle, Becomes a Flood
Overflow of Hope, Love, and Faith
A Faith in the Human Spirit
A Faith of Humanity
A boy sits alone in his closet.
Enmity splattered walls.
His heart, so open to love,
is beginning to wither and fall.
But what, I should think,
makes him live in these walls,
is a secret to me,
We live in a world that has been teeming with hate,
Our ancestors have endured much pain and hate,
Our ancestors have inflicted pain as well,
We live in a world, in which we have no appreciation,
I have lost my voice in the crowd of thousands
from the top of my lungs I screamed down from the mountains
my vocal cords ache from the shouting in the streets
chanting and yelling for the rights of my people
Under protection of our own,
government was created to dethrown.
As a people, we chose to vote.
"Majority rule!" the people quote.
Soon, people debated, hated and fell into moral confusion.
I am bound to my chain
Never to be set free
The state of my confinement is one that is definite
A constant reminder that ensures my inhibition
The bus is hot as it rolls, and with the number of bodies is
Sticky air and sweat-wet seats and the raw smell of humans.
We are the freedom riders, the
Beaten at bus stops and booed as we walk.
The cage is open
But not to free me.
To free me from the bonds
That once held my cellmate
Whom I expect now runs
Far away from the hate
She was a Rose
A beautiful, brown Rose
She stepped up on the bus of separation
She sat down, for our freedoms
She rode the mistreated waves of segregation
She quietly refused, for our people
I have a nightmare.
Twoscore and ten years ago, Mr. King helped revolutionize our country.
Equality for all, he said.
No black, no white, no yellow, no red.
Equality. Shades of gray given what they deserve.
Sweat and blood cradle it,
It’s the mothers old hands that
Wove its breath.
High above myself and earth,
I can see freedom slowly drifting
Across towering mountains and dark
Clouds.
Separate
Has never been
And never will be
Equal.
Paging through the textbooks of history and time
The white, clean pages
Have been bleached of any color.
Black history relegated
I kept silent
haunted by my self
the past
In pain, I once was
recalling a voice that was once home
mama
are you there?
Blinking sweat from his eyes,
His heart is on the verge of defunct,
Light irises face his.
Wild with fear,
His stomach solidifies like rime.
Once happy
then taken
from the land of the sun
Now chained
and broken
the long night has begun
Faster
and harder
the work never ends
Fighting
to escape
the master's demands
Wake me up,
when the days of suffering and pain are over.
Wake me up,
when I can walk amongst others with out recieving a cold shoulder.
Being different,
with my face, color, and shape.
Being different,
The world is cold
The unknown cuss at the unknown
While heads get blown
Summoning all my people, we discuss the harms created by Obama's throne
The change still isn't shown
I'm torn between college
Who Are We?
We build our own lives and souls
We are unique and separate
But how do we think for ourselves
When society guides us
Blind in the eyes of god is the color of our skin
And who said you were in charge of deciding where I eat, drink, watch a movie, sit on a bus?
You think we’re dif-fer-rent but we’re all-the-same
There is a path just found behind the school
Rumors say what happened there was very, very cruel
I go to see the famous place
And find footsteps at the base
I follow it and hear a crack
One.
You mock me, shame me, spit on me;
You deny my humanity and curse me.
You cannot see past my dark hue.
Two.
You mock Him who made me
By burning that cross on my lawn.
How would you feel walking down the street?
Minding your own business just being a teen
When a group of people behind you come to attack
Only because in their eyes you’re a “fag”
Dear God,
Is it time for us to live?
And break those shackles that bound our hands and ankles?
Trying to escape, danger lurking around every angle
Whip marks on our backs, blood leaking from the wounds
I am blessed
To have been born
Inside a place
Previously torn
But now repaired
With the thinnest thread
I remember this
As I go to bed
A month after I was born, in 1955,
Mother told me
Of the beginning of the bus boycott
Because a woman of color
Refused to give up her seat
To a white man.
And that was the year
accusations against innocents
crime against the colored
fear, disgust, seclusion
we take one step forward
little by little
were pushed two steps back
continue to push
continue to fight
I stand for the people who walked down the street for equality.
Dr. King said it best in his “I Have a Dream” speech.
I stand for the kids who were pushed to the back of bus
The Civil War is 19th century news
Only talk about it in history when my brain is on a cruise
See the Civil Rights Movement ended years ago
And there’s just no more desire to know
If you closed your eyes
Would you know who I am?
If you closed your eyes
Would you see who I am?
Is it possible
To see who I truly am
With your eyes closed
When you can't really see me
If it wasn't for the magic
when this universe was born-
the gravity that held it down
the sun that kept it warm
Racism why is it even here
all it does is bring us tears
Whatever happen to a world of peace
its time we bring a new life lease
We stand in unity to raise hope
so that we may live in a place of harmony
Black boy
(Hook)
Last night
Night before
24 robbers at my door
I got up and let em in
Hit em in the head with a rolling pin
Rosa Parks. Malcolm X. Dr. King. Jesse Jackson. Mamie Mobley.
Tears shed, blood spilled, injustice fought.
But for what?
You may know me,
But you can’t see the pain.
You can’t see my struggles
And you can’t see my strife.
For my identity, it isn’t superficial,
It’s an identity that is rooted deep,
Below your hateful words
We washed upon the shores
And traveled in rivulets through the veins of a nation.
We filled her cracks and hollows
And saturated what was parched and wanting.
People
A head, a heart, a body, a soul
Working, breathing, loving, hating
Brothers and sisters
Created as equals
With only small differences
We live, we love,
We take part in others lives
When I see into my future
I have to look behind
To those who sacrificed
And even risked their lives
The freedoms I am given
By right of Birth and Law
No matter what my gender
To be of fierce defender
Here is a man
Proud and strong
black
Here is the Law
Strict and harsh
White
Here is the school
Whites only
Fair
Here is Oliver Brown
Stop this
Please
My room mate, my friend.
She doesn't see me,
She sees my almond eyes.
Her white-tinted glasses tells her eyes,
those orbs of ice, what is Asian.
Despite the spots on the map
that my people come from.
Ever since I came out the womb,
they said it was power to the people
But what power do you have
when you aren't allowed to speak back when being speaked to
We've spoken, the world has been broken
At first just yelling.
Spiteful cries,
Words like cleavers,
Got under her fingernails,
and the mahogany skin on her cheeks.
And then the stones came,
an ambush,
penetrating deeper
Free at last, free at last!
Thank God almighty, we are free at last!
That’s what I want to say
But it’s not the truth
I mean the whole truth
Civil Rights
More than Dr. King
Rosa Parks
Malcolm X
The story of then,
The story of now,
and then the story yet to be unveiled:
Tap-tap. Tap-tap. Tap-tap.
Yes I am angry. But you wouldn't know.
Staring down at the floor, how could anyone tell?
I clench my fists. Tap my foot.
I smile. I say "yes, sir" and "yes, ma'am."
We are the people of this world
We are the people of America
What are rights?
Does rights have a color, a ethnic a gender, a race?
NO
Rights are something that is given but yet earned.
Freedom IS costly
Costly?
The lives that were Volunteered,
made freedom costly
The lives that were damaged beyond Repair,
made freedom costly
The urge to hold the family Dear,
made freedom costly
They march and march, but not without a reason.
With no guns or knives, but they're still accused of treason.
Signs in their hands, begging for a change.
Visions in their heads of better days.
Standing alone on the corner
Listening, waiting, hoping
The message, loud and clear
But everyone else refuses to hear
All created equal they claim
But their actions don’t match the words they say
I am not just a number for you to process
I have feelings.
Nothing you say can change how I feel.
Just because you think you can shut me up with
words
hate
violence
secrets
Why you so surprised?
You thought change was gonna come
But let me explain something to you
History repeats itself
And it’s just a matter of time
Before you’re back in the fields.
I had a dream
Where a world was free
It never mattered who you are
but what you will become
I am fighting for a dream
where I can be free
It doesn't matter who I am
Just what I want to become
I was the slave girl taken from the South to the West
I was the sister that was beaten tortured and ripped from the home of my loved ones
I was the young mother dragged and taken in chains forced to kill the life inside of me
I walked miles to school every morning, past the closed doors of the all-white school.
Dirt clouds ruined my clothes and my shoes became worn and my hair mangled.
When the world goes blind,
It will only be love that we find.
Everyone will look the same.
We will no longer play a vision game.
You're a strong young woman. You know you are.
He's just some jerk in class that always has to have the last say.
But there's something about his wit and attitude that you like.
You know it's dangerous.
For hundreds of years the black man has been crying
with inner tears, striped from his manly dignity and
identity, his self love has been ripped.
For centuries the black woman has been
demoralized then defamed.
As well as watching her dignity being put to shame.
Because of the pigment of my skin, they do not see me
Since I am "different", I am separated
And although they give many reasons
I know that it is not because of
My hair, or the way I dress, but
Like crayons are only colors our skin is too.
We should all be equal shades to the human sight,
but fighting over colors is a destructive thing to do.
The sun began to set as little Johnny trudged on
three hours ago he found out that his mother was gone.
Dead by water maybe dog or cane
but all johnny knew is they didnt even know her name.
Hit the mirror - watch it shatter
Not liking what you see
Blood running down your arm
Oozing like your broken heart
-
Empty inside - no friends outside
Why even bother trying
Children,
Windows are now doors
Streets are now sidewalks
They are now history
D-day,
Don't forget your toothbrush.
When Obama won they said it’s over. He won. He’s in.
I say no. One triumph does not erase past sin.
The pen has hit the paper, the paper has been passed saying in the United States of America, slavery no longer lasts.
The disease of men
That put us in pens
The beatings and bruises
That was so abusive
A disease of their mind
Our punishment wasn’t kind
Back then it seemed
That it was okay to be mean
My Bones Ache
My Hairs Grey
My Pride is Gone
Can I Rest Now?
You Ask For My Seat
I Say No
My Hands Are Cuffed
Can I Rest Now?
We fight For Whats Right
Boycotting Transportation
As we are black ,
we tend to be underestimated
as we fought for our rights they couldn't hold us back
Our forefathers bled for us.
They took the pain of being
different away.
They fought against the
stubborn who would never
allow black people to have
rights.
They say we are equal.
Why the bullying?
Do you think it's fun?
Is it satisfying?
The way you treat them?
They say we are equal.
We take for granted the freedoms we have
The biggest freedom of all to some
Are civil rights and liberty
African Americans will stand on my behalf.
We often do not look back at the past as if we were there
Who gave you the right to take away mine?
Who gave you the right to tell me where to sit
To eat
To go to the bathroom
And even drink some water
Can you imagine what it's like to struggle?
To be confined to a suffocating bubble.
To not be able to live peacefully and equally with man
Or be condemned because of your love of man.
We are taught that we are one.
They say I’ve got dirty tears,
The ones that run down my face are not the same,
The blood I bleed is much too dark
My bruises far too faint,
And I’ve got dirty tears
Don’t get me started about my skin
Society
By: Megan Williams
Society
Please tell me
What have we become?
We sold our souls
Our inner being
And for what?
Society
Please tell me
Why are we so mean?
My rights are my rights/ got infinite time to put up a fight/ going through the system/ listen to your mther respect your father/ dont speak out/ dont stand tall/ fit the mold of the kid that will work till they get to old/ my dream job unattain
The pain they felt
I cannot imagine
They fought for rights
With such great passion
They fought for right
With all their strength
They fought to be equal
To fight this hate
The fight for rights
The pain they felt
I cannot imagine
They fought for rights
With such great passion
They fought for right
With all their strength
They fought to be equal
To fight this hate
The fight for rights
I can hear America working
their shuffling feet and their clasping hands
I can hear America singing
with their tutting horms and their high pitched whistles
I can hear America speaking
If that mysterious man of old awoke
What tales would he tell?
If that mysterious man of old awoke
What praise would he sell?
What are our civil rights?
Can they be won without a fight?
The world is trying but people are dying.
Children are crying and the whole world is lying
in the bed of all that is bad.
Growing up, all I ever heard was how the "white man" would keep us down.
How all they ever wanted to do was see me frown.
How I was suppose to accept this as life truth
and never enjoy the fruits of my youth.
I left the Home, a shabby lumbering shack,
Taking only the clothes on my back
And the chime of Symmetrical thoughts,
And walking with Ambitious steps,
Trampling the Dirty paths, and
In a time of hardship,
Many fear the fight,
Many face the fight,
Going day by day struggling,
Many face the fight,
Trying to ignore the ignorant people,
Many face the fight,
You sit up on the bed you were sleeping on
The Pain inside of you shudders your every bone.
The youth that once was is now forever gone
You vainly try to remember all those moments you were happy,
How do you describe my skin? Do you only describe me as light skinned? Do you not see the pain and scars that are visible to the surface? I know I'm not perfect... I'm different My skin is my shield hiding all the, pain, sorrow, the quilt?
Beaten and tired of being called on last,
Mocked and threatened, living this way is no easy task.
Viewed from the bottom of society’s totem pole,
White faces all around and they expect us to stay small.
A whistle to myself,
I whistled a song,
A song about a woman,
frightened by the black night,
frightened by what she don't understand,
she calls upon the daylight,
and then it comes,
Many a man has lived that has given his life for another.
Not many a person, though, who has changed the world forever.
whispering wind will pass
the booming thunder will overpass
your voice will shutter and ever-last
but i wonder who will hear it
make souls shiver at your voice
to hear the goodness of men
This is the public, right?
Than why shall I be set aside.
This is wrong, we will fight!
We just want to eat.
We all need to care.
So here is where we’ll sit,
Until we’re treated fair.
How do I repay
the deeds done by
the civil rights leaders
of the bonded past?
How do I shine light
on the dull, average people
who became heroes
by taking a chance?
I felt connection there,
my yellow skin flashing in stark contrast with
the black in my right hand,
the white in my left.
It is August of 2012 and I walk through your memories, a museum.
My feet pace the floor where yours once did, a battleground.
I gaze at your portrait and into your eyes, silent.
In the election of 2016 I will vote.
There is a life. A life of a new age in which all men are free. I never dreamed that I would see this day, ho how my soul looks back in wonder. Our Ancestors, who bore the strife and the hardships of this life, they call to us.
From the beginning of time we have been judged by the color of our skin.
Not caring for what was within.
People have told us for years we are not wanted here, but what makes them think we had a choice?
I AM,
Somebody.
Initiating the vigorous montage of syllables sliding down our tongues.
corruptedly speaking
our words of passion
and love of grace.
Bullets of sweat trailing down the shell, we can not change
Some say black,
Some say brown.
They call us monkeys,
Some still slaves.
They call us stupid and uneducated,
But really there is some irony in that.
Lost soul
Lost faces
One Color
Lost Races
Here but not in existence, just traces
Draws warnings on these spaces
Knows but doesn't feel
Wounded but never healed
Eyes open or close they see
The ride to freedom was long
Time would never heal
The wounds and the cries
From men and children alike
Full of tears, pain, shame
first foot, second foot march.
here and there everywhere just march.
to get where we half way are today they had to march.
to get where we want to be tomorrow and never be sorrow we have to march.
A century before,
Not quite a distant enough memory
brother fought brother
on an all too familiar soil.
Fight, they said.
Puncture the minds of those who choose not to listen.
Free your voice.
Let yourself be known.
Fight, they said.
Persist upon your rights to be.
Unbound, unarmed.
Fight.
Black and white
White and black
Ying and yang
Colors that make this world bright
Why should color of skin matter
When trying to achieve rights?
Every minute of my fifteen years on earth has been spent examining the various colors around me
The chestnut trees that stretch their tired branches shed a great deal of vibrant green offspring
My life is in pictures color and black and white. I hear the ocean roar and see my family's fight. Struggle to third floor just another day. Mother worn weak and ragged like the scarecrow hanging by a few pieces of straw.
One mind,
Same heart,
Why are we blind
to see that,
But yet quick to see color,
Black, White, Orange, Green, Red,
We all bleed red.
Pain experienced,
Violence involved,
Tragic heartbreak.
"After working all day.."
Tired, i bet,
All day had she worked, worked up a darn good sweat,
Oh Lord, this woman said no.
Imagine this life
Divided by segregation
No equality
No independance
A life not worth living in
Ruled by skin color
E - Everyone is loved in God's eyes.
Q - Quietness about this issue is not needed.
U - Understand how important it is to stand up.
A - Anticipation for a better future.
L - Let people know what you stand for.
Cradled by life, mind so naive
Fierce within, yet shackled by body.
A voice so strong, a will so powerful,
Humanity's gift so humble yet so. Very striking.
Ghouls gaze upon onyx skin and fall behind deviled eyes.
You look inside the bus
You find a sea of people
Much like an ocean
Both filled with life
Colors are scattered about
As people move around
Much like a rainbow
Both vibrant and beautiful
Little do we know,
A Civil Rights Movement
Is happening right now.
During these times,
Protestors remain silent,
Hiding in shadows.
Paralyzed by fear
Of being snatched
Away from family.
Fear
Filled within their hearts
Individuality, discouraged by the Xeroxes
Adversity, scorned
Change, frightening
The Unique
With an appetite
For speech
For Identity
For Recognition
The smoke burns
My throat is sore
Daddy says run
But they’re doing more.
I never knew
How bad it was
How much hurt
Came from us.
‘Cause Daddy says
This is okay.
And any lies
I'm going to take you back in history and I don't just mean yesterday's history.
I'm talking about to the history of our ancestors
To the History of slavery
where the color of our skin made my ancestors slaves.
They were treated different,
Because they looked different.
They were a different race
They were made no space
To live together in their world
They weren't equal enough, and were hurled
You try to tell me, that we are not one
You try to tell him that he is not like me
You want to separate us
But what you don’t see is that we are truly together
You are me, I am you, you are him and her!
A few weeks ago I was reading a book on theater
And someone saw me reading and told me, "Black people don't read".
That made me sad.
Then the quote started to sink into my thoughts
and it started to make me mad.
Living in the Shadows, the man of color
Looks for work, only to be turned down.
Another day for food stamps
and support from his wife
Living in the Shadows, the man of color
They tied him down with the same thick threads and chains that he busted out of a few scores ago
Unknown white men in white capes with white tips strung him up upon a thick black stump
You stand with Me.
Hands connected. contrasting skin.
Warm from the fight that flows through our veins
Damp from the tears of our palms.
Against Oppression neither of us can take.
You stand with Me.
I remember you sitting next to me learning about our history,
about the protest that our ancestors took part in.
For you and I to live free, with equal rights as whites.
Belittlement, beatings and such things as slavery.
Black and white are as opposite as the sun and the moon.
People can be so thick skulked, like stuck in a cocoon.
Even if the colors are on the opposite sides of the color wheel.
But judgment is what all people can feel.
You took charge.
You had power with your words.
You are a hero in so many eyes.
Your spirit will never die.
You are the only reason I'm here.
You made it possible for me to be here.
Together we soar,
Together we strive,
Together we are great,
Together we are alive;
But not today, no,
We have lost all equality,
Judgments and discrimination,
Create a growing fatality;
I've overcome…
From the whips and chains..
I've overcome…
From the bitter taste and sinking pains..
I've overcome…
From the shackles and wounds that burn all day..
I've overcome…
We were making history.
One thought that kept us going
as others viewed us with faces of disgust,
for we knew that the same faces of disgust
would be present upon the people reading about us.
I stare in front of me as I put one foot
In front
of the other
I look down
At my wrists
And see them yoked to my brother’s
And my sister’s
I think about how proud my mother
Would have been
It hurt, you know.
The way you treated me.
The way you made fun of me, the way you hurt me, the way you talked about me like I wasn't there.
It was like I wasn't even human to you.
Falling.
The fresh taste of blood salts my lips.
Rage. How dare I dream about a future that may never come?
For dreams bring the pain, despair of hope.
Hope for the better.
Anything better.
Racism is something that one can't speak on unless they experienced themselves
Looking to be treated equally like everyone else is simply like a toddler reaching for a 6 foot shelf
Passing by their faces show,
The ignorance hidden deep below.
I read their faces like a book,
Absorbing every dirty look.
Fear and guilt consume their eyes,
Unconcealed through pretty lies.
Though some see no light,
On they must fight.
Though they faintly hear the ring,
The freedom bells bring.
Man, woman, and child,
Their ideas seem wild.
Their lives not in vain,
I strive to take a breath as my lungs fill with the heavy smoke
The fire burns so hot sweat begins to trickle off my arms
The burns sting and the heat dries out my eyes.
The power of the right,
Was not acknowledged by the Might.
They fought and fought,
Yet they were left distraught.
No one’s pointing a finger,
But did you do more than linger?
The world was so cruel
All the blacks were treated like fools
They were enslaved by whites
They had no civil rights
But now look where they are
They have made it so far
They fought for civil rights
(poems go here) Shut Out by Injustice
The only way I will ever feel in this empty world of hatred is belittled.
The whiplash created from the names being thrown out left to right.
"All of you boys best move right now!" yelled the officer.
I did not move, for I was unafraid.
Dr. King said we must not move, so I do not move.
"If ya'll don't want to listen, I'll get the hose"
Law
Righteousness
They are not the same
One
Yet two
To the naked eye
The other is blind
They can come
From two different minds
And never intertwine
For some reason
The night was thick like a nightmare,
The shadows lurked with fear,
The gentle wind felt cold on our dark skin,
Our hearts raced like a caged bird’s wings.
A protector from discrimination
You come for my salvation
In your eyes there is no difference of color
No shame in sexual orientation
No barriers for speech,
No integrity that is beat down
Met a man on the street today, black shoes, black glasses, black skin
Talked a while about this age we're living in
Told me his story, how he'd nearly made history
Until he realized the strings were pulled by white hands
When dreams long since are spent
and broken-
when a weary people can no longer
wait-
they will rise up, rise
from raisins and sores and rotten meat,
and they will speak.
Minorities,
Women,
LGBT,
Why is it that no one sees,
The world is not just white men,
That conquered land across the sea,
And called it home?
(A colored skin individual with dreams and aspiration in their eyes
Faced with the choices of the now and the then
Reminded of the options and choices they never had
No opportunity to frolic among the most educated
In the beginning, there was darkness.
There was no room for sense,
No room for differences.
But one day, a light suddenly appeared.
There was laughter and tears,
Celebration and mourning,
Mi abuelita is ripping apart carnitas with her fingertips
Through my squinty eyes I am sifting through the lavish, glamorous sky
I want to speak Spanish to her but I always forget
To resist an opportunity in the midst of our days
by the sunlight catching the inner core, it holds
weakens the penetration of the mind,
the many splitting of the selves,
the gold no one can take
I was once a strong weak thing.
I often looked in the mirror
And asked who the girl staring back at me was.
Was she strong, brave, and steadfast?
Or was she weak, scared, and indecisive?
For there were two girls
To all my sistas and brothers with
dyed afros
multicolor braids
septum piercings:
this one’s for you.
shuffling through old Aaliyah jams with anthems of white teenage surburban angst
All the world is a stage and I am a one-man comedy act.
“Be funny!” the people shout. “Dance for us! Tell us some jokes!”
“We like you,” they smile and say, “You make us laugh. Do it again.”
I am an American
For my blood helped build this country
It was this blood that grew crops and
weaved the clothes on the moon's back
The moon would be nothing
without the sun
to graze it's face
