Featured Poems
A Painful Grandmother
I’m still in shock,
I can’t believe the news,
How could she do this?
Couldn’t she find another dude?
I’m not saying I’m racist,
Not even gonna lie
But why did she have to do this,
Why did she sleep with this guy?
I don’t care that he’s white,
I don’t care about the stares,
My main concern is his mother,
And the hole she’s trying to tear.
That woman despises blacks,
And takes it out on my baby girl
Then when she’s in her presence,
It looks like she’s gonna hurl.
She doesn’t acknowledge her,
Treats her like a spot on the wall,
Talks about her appearance and hair,
Like she’s some rag doll.
She refuses to talk to her son,
Who I can say is a good father,
He and my daughter want to get married one day,
But I’m afraid she’ll have something to say.
I want her to learn,
To stop thinking with her eyes,
Her grandchild is a gift,
And should connect to all family ties.
She doesn’t have to talk to my family,
She doesn’t have to give us the time of day,
But that child is innocent.,
She doesn’t deserve to be treated that way.
A Black Family Reunion
How often do we celebrate our loved ones?
How often do we pay tribute to our past?
How often do we take the time to say I love you?
Not know if the sighting will be our last.
We see each other again,
And share hugs and kisses all around,
While welcoming the new members,
We haven’t seen until now.
We sit around the picnic table,
Agreeing how time has gone by so fast,
While in the back of our minds,
We’re reminiscing about those who have passed.
We laugh and we smile,
As we enjoy the time we’d spent together,
Definitely not wanting it to end,
As we wait the next time we’ll meet again.
Being Myself
I walk into the room,
And they whisper,
I sit down,
And they stare,
All awhile with a look on my face,
As if I don’t even care.
They down me ’cause I’m quiet,
But maybe I don’t have anything to say,
If you were really concerned about me speaking,
Maybe you should ask me something one day.
They say I don’t have fun,
Just ’cause I don’t like getting on rides,
You can judge me all you want,
It’s not darkening my pride.
They down me ’cause I’m not like them,
Like judging me ’cause I like milk in my tea,
And I wonder if I should give them an apology,
Um, some might agree to disagree.
Then they’re some folks like me,
That would just say “let her be”
‘Cause in my opinion,
I’m not gonna apologize,
For just being me!
Don’t Ignore Me
This is my friend,
A Black woman,
Looking at me,
As if my appearance put her to shame,
Judging by appearance first,
Without even knowing my name.
“Ma’am, I don’t see color,
It doesn’t matter the race,”
Yep, “I don’t see color,”
That’s what she said to my face.
If you ignore the color of my skin,
You’re ignoring over a hundred years of struggle,
Ignoring the fights by Dr. King,
Ignoring the reason Mrs. Parks set on that bus,
Ignoring these issues is a disgrace,
‘Cause they did this for us.
You say no color,
So pay attention to the streets,
With our daughters having babies,
And our sons,
With their pants, sagging,
Looking like fools,
All because you don’t wanna provide funding for our schools.
Just ignore our ancestors,
Ignore their sacrifices for us,
Some, by their masters, were treated rotten,
Oh, the next time you have an ear infection,
I dare you to use cotton.
Ignore the month of February,
Forget the celebrations,
Ignore the power and civil rights movements,
Ignore the importance of gold, green, red, and black,
Oh, and remember Nelson Mandela,
Yea, he won’t get those years back.
Ignore that Shirley Chisholm ran in the Democratic race in ’72,
Yes, you thought Obama was the first,
Well, history just taught you.
So when you say no color,
To me, that’s a sin,
‘Cause see within my race,
There’s power from within,
I take pride in where I come from,
And that pride comes from within.
See when you say no color,
Makes it seem like the color of my skin is a waste,
That’s the reason why I’m proud to be seen,
That’s also why I refer to myself as a Black Nubian Queen.
For the Confident Sistas
I don’t need a man to tell me I’m beautiful,
Don’t need a man to compliment my hair,
Don’t need one to judge my looks,
If they don’t stare,
I don’t care.
Some sistas change their appearances
Based on what men say,
They didn’t help bestow the beauty in me,
Didn’t help me maintain the confidence
That makes other women envy,
So why listen to them,
Why hear what they gotta say,
‘Cause the conversation won’t go that far,
With it only being one-way.
They’re men out there
That will accept me for who I am,
‘Cause when I look in the mirror,
What do I see?
A beautiful Black queen,
Looking back at me!
