Tuesday, 3 March 2015

Love/Lust/Passion Poetry



Bathing Girl
(To Dearest Joy,
in reverie of that rapturous disrobing)


Feel young again, my bathing girl!
Draw on the joy
The limpid pool of life
That nourishes your name!

Feel young again, my bathing girl,
Firm-fleshed against all ills
In that deep, loving light,
Lucent as a red-flushed sky.

Wear priestess robes,
And make my deepest awe
Till you release them,
Triggered by our bated breath.

Span the enchantresses of history,
Holding their time-frozen heights
And span their cosmic bridges to the present,
For now you shine!

Let that apparel now cascade
And show you poised
For water’s communion
In glorious luminosity.

Holding all breath.
Your radiant beams
From your magnetic casing,
Beauty to adore.

Reveal yourself
In the glory of a life’s new morning:
Let our two bodies
Be each other's mirrors.

Banish and shrink
The blights of darkness.
Draw on the bubbling rills of health,
Feel young again, my bathing girl!

Author: David Russell

Your Touch
 
The touch of your skin, anywhere on my body,
leave me nervous and begging for more.
Your hand on my back sends chills down my spine,
and your lips on mine make me want to stay still.
I get nervous and scared, yet willing and ready.
Forbidden games are often more thrilling.
you hold me close, and I squeeze you tight.
You take my breath away,
and you breathing tells me you're nervous.
We stay there together,
I'm engulfed in your touch.

Author: Shorty

Your Touch
 
Three weeks without you and your touch,
Your kisses, your hugs, your passion and desire.
The moment you pulled me into your embrace,
My body ignited just like a flame.

The forceful kisses that we shared,
The sensual hunger overwhelming us.
Our hands roved over each other impatiently,
Touching, exploring and satisfying our needs.

You pushed me up against the wall,
And stared into the depths of my soul.
Your mesmerizing eyes were so hypnotic,
They made me want you with even more fervor.

Our body molded together as one,
Moving rhythmically to the beats of our hearts.
Our frantic kisses were insufficient,
And it seemed as if we could not get enough of each other.

Each time you touch me it feels oh so good.
And it evokes emotions in me I never knew existed.
I want you more and more each time you’re gone,
When will be the next time you’ll touch me like this again?

Author: Charmaine

You & I Are About...
 
the love I feel
the love my heart knows
is the love I feel for you
you and I are what
most people read about

you and I :
the comfort zone taking a chance
about going away in a minutes notice
and having fun getting there
we are about tongues and lips
motions and lotions
wild sensual silver links and leather straps
we are about real love and romance
sharin' a bit of spice

we are about :
slow dancing
romantic candle lights
soft music, a bubbling spa
a quiet cuisine
shared at home by the best chef in town
which is you

we are about:
looking out in the same direction
at breathtaking sunsets from the air or the ground
about the taste of experience
pleasing and spoiling
two happy hearts
that have been given a chance

we are about:
the oceans and the mountains
the source that share our thoughts
that bring us closer to our creater
sharing what he has brought together
and exposing our flesh to his majesty
so that he can see
we are happy for what he has given us
and the best feature is held with in
known to all as the heart

we are about:
love
we are the heart beat of the world
we keep all hearts alive
by beating for each other
we are what other lovers crave for in their life
we are the love
all hearts know
and read about

Author: Terrie*

Vanity, Lust, Sin 
 
Vanity; Countenance of everlasting beauty
One only a selfish could love
Gazing into the mirror of pretension
Clasped within its only desire
Her look indeed for that of nobility
Wearing the highest of dues
Jewelry of the finest drip from every core
Flawless to the surface
Disturbed in the soul
Simply the result of a beautiful mistake

Lust; Jealousy prying within her heart
Crave into the etchings of features
Beneath the sensuous eyes covered in lash
Lay the cold vengeful soul of in vain
Lifted into a higher temptation
Securing within contusioned formation
This is the mere outcome of want mistaken for need

Sin; Pesenting a molden corpse
With everything to play on
Strumming fingertips to feel
To touch with the need
If only to make the significant other happy
Would they stay to remain entertained
Only if it were this for the only reason
Yet the reason were highly mistaken

Author: Scorpio

Lust For You 
 
touch me here kiss my there i want to feel your warm body against mine as we become one until the break of dawn even then we want stop i feel so much love in the air nothing else matter i lust for you lips i lust for you body and i lust for your soul as you look into my eyes i look into yours to see the fire that your heart and mind desire the lust you feel for me when you touch my skin it makes me melt i know it a sin my body will start to burn for you again and the lust will start all over again

Author: Nikki Pee

Let's Shower Together 
 
Let’s shower together;
Let’s make the water
Answer our surging fluids.

Let’s get aroused
Through all our opening pores;

See and feel that cleansing steam
Heating us
Heated by us.

Come on: untie your sash’s knot,
Cast back your robe.

And you for me.

Let's take the massage soap
And make it melt;
Let forth, let froth the gel;

Tingle anew as I rub you dry;
Turn on again
With wrapping and unwrapping.

So great to do
Before and after

Sweet liquid out and in –
Could our self-images
Melt into one another

And we rise to the spirit
Of natural rain?

Author: David Russell

Lovemaking
  
Swarthy skinned man, come lay at my side,
Scented sandalwood woman, wants you inside,
My curved alabaster, in your ebony muscles,
Holding together, peel off loves cover.

Meridians and contours,we find we posses,
Oneness of love, bare all we undress,
Loving the flow of clarinet sweet,
A chocolaty mood, Ecuadorian beat.

Limpid the pools, of glistening love dripping,
Lips locked in depths, of cavities gripping,
Subtle the hints, and tactile the clues,
New ground is broken, in love making hues.

Exceptional moments, in ruffled creased nest,
Speak of our journey, to love makings best,
Breaths amplifying, what's meant in loves union,
Partaking of this, called lovers communion.

Again take me there, oh ebony friend,
Let not the loving, experience end,
Nothing, yet all, at the same time,
Ecstasy reached,in love makings climb.

Author: Elizabeth Squires

  
Make Love To Me 
 
Make love to me
Bring my body back to life
Awaken my senses
From their slumber, tonight
Touch my skin
So that it's softness may remind
Caress my lips
So they do not go undefined
Hold me close
But do not close your eyes
Make love to me
And make me feel alive

Author: Pamela O'Brien


I Love The Passion, Of A Working Man
 
Did, what I was told to do, hope, the company, is statisfied
Finally, this day, races to its end, leaving me, with a question
From here, where do I go? I go back home to you, feel your love for me
Another busy day, worked hard, hope the profits, all come through

Yes, I know, money isn't everything, but today, try living without it
I'm heading home, hope, my flowers still bloom, need something
Need something beautiful and soft, you are so far away
Yet, I hear you say, take me darling, be gentle, I have felt your rage

I love the way you take away my breath, God, my heart pounds
As you enter me, your passion is so, hot I burn, deep inside
From where, you share your fire, and then, you release
So, much of you, deep inside of me, damn, I love it and you

When you have had a hard day, then come home to me
And take it out into me, God, I love, when you share, it all inside of me
Then I hear your breath and hear you say, sorry, I didn't mean, to go so deep
I say, to my heart, sweetheart, next time, go deeper if, you can

"I Love The Passion, Of A Working Man"

Author: ShyHeart


Lover's Undress 

You’re a shaft of light
In my crimson evening.

Let’s make each other beautiful;
You in a silver ball gown,
Shoulders shine above it
Above superb resilient breasts.

Slow, sensual dance, rustling fabrics,
Hands, breath to lips and tongues
Held through this breeze.

I’ve striven in my work-outs
For this moment;
I’m yours to relish,
you're mine to savour.

So now undo me, see legs first
- Yours I'll match
Now find my waist and torso
- Feel at first
And then unbutton,
Peel and see.

In shorts I stand before you now,
Athletic
You’re throbbing for the next -
You take my waistband, draw

Now I’m just in trunks
- Erotic in your smouldering light.

I’ll do the same for you, I’m delicate
with zips and buttons, buckles

Release your gown,
A glittering parachute
and you step out
- In what I dreamed you'd wear:
A purple strapless one-piece
Clinging to your toned lovely from

A one-piece proclaims
A woman’s fullest power
Concealing, revealing,
Balance just right – to draw on,
and you can wear one
Before all others.

Now you’re my bathing beauty,
I am yours.

The water calls us, shimmering warm;
Let’s slice the waves,
Please do the backstroke, let me see
Your breasts, your thighs
Thrusting through the surface

And now an underwater kiss
Now to the shore

You lie on me, I rub your back
Our costumes dry, peel off
and now deep cleaving
Of thigh and groin.

You are so deep , so strong in love
Made thunderstorms;
You frightened all the others off
Yet drew me out;
Let me embrace my feminine
In our unrobing

Submission? domination?
Now those terms
Lose all pretense of meaning,
In the flooding flames of total love.

You're a shaft of light
In my crimson evening.

Author: David Russell

 
Bullet Proof My Lust
 
bullet proof my lust
keep on shooting me with your touchless touch
oh but you must.
leave my soul secret, leave my soul with you
leave me standing with this feeling
i'll dream you forever that would never come true.
this emotion of you is draining
your scent is emotionless and true
like dark clouds overhead, but not raining
being around you is emotionally cruel.

Author: Mental


Hot Tub
 
Take your clothes off, dear, and come on in,
You said to me as you sat in the hot tub.
I will if you promise me one thing,
I'm so tense, I would love a back rub, hon.

'Your wish is my command,' you replied.
So I took off my shoes, bra, dress and panty hose,
And I slowly stepped into the tub,
Into this hot, but comfortable water.

You put your arms around me first,
And held me so close to you.
Then your strong hands caressed my back.
Oh, that felt soooo good!

I could feel the tenseness easing,
But an erotic feeling took it's place.
Chills went up and down my spine
In spite of the wonderful warmth of the tub.

It felt so good when you fondled my breasts,
Then moved down to my thighs.
This hot tub really wasn't large enough
To make love the way we were used to.

So we both stepped out and eased to the floor
And continued the mating game.
Our two wet bodies, melded together.
What an erotic feeling for both of us!

Our bodies were so warm from the hot tub.
So at first, the cool air was refreshing,
But I got so hot and steamed up
While we finished what we had started.

Then you kissed my warm wet lips
And held my face in your hands.
Let's cool off a bit, my sweet
And jump back in the hot tub again.

Author: Del


Beach Girl
 
Beach girl, beach pearl –
I’ll dive for you.
I’ll weld into your swimmer's form.

Take off your wrap, reveal your tan
Close in the spectrum to the orange sand.
White costume iridescent –
Moon in sunlight.

I’ll peel for you –
You find my body good; you make it great.
Flash black tingling on my hips
Our currents charged in sight.

Come take the plunge with me;
Let’s match our thrusting limbs and muscles;
Let’s arch and stretch in our exuberance;
Let’s dive into a clinch.

We’ll sunbathe, see our second element
Rise into vapour.

In premonition of a tidal wave
We'll peel our costumes down,
Reveal raw beauty, fuse into each other.

Your half-man muscles matching my deep thrust
Turned feminine delicate at your edges,
By your edges.

And time waits, breathless as we come;
In love we are the ocean,
All currents, eddies, tides and whirlpools –
We are the real fire water!

Author: David Russell


Body In Trouble
 
My body is in trouble
And I am under its command…
I close my eyes and I just
Move my hand…

Sweet sensations conceal
My tender darkness…
I melt away…
I lose myself in my delicious
Madness…
And I want more…
And I adore…

Whispers fade away…
Sighs silence my heart…
Some words my mouth should
Never say…

Such a care has an incredible
Force…
Such a care can’t cause any
Remorse…

My body is in trouble
And I can’t listen to my mind…
I lose myself…who is going
To find me?
My trembling lip denounces
My insanity…and it puts on a
Show…my body is out of control.

I dive in my own ocean
And there are pearls deep inside…
I am my best emotion when
My eyes I can’t hide…

My body is in trouble…
Transfixed I see it defeating
Me…such a fight is my private
Delight…

My now and here is a mystery to be…
My body is in trouble and only you
Can set me free…

Author: Karla Bardanza


First Night Of Love
 
I feel so touched by your love for me,
Like an angel riding on a cloud.
Whatever you do, the sweet things you say,
You always make me feel so proud.

The first night we spent together,
Ignited that spark in my heart.
Two naked bodies clung together,
Nothing could pull us apart.

First the soft gentle kisses,
As you held me so tenderly,
Slowly our passion kept growing,
The hunger in your eyes I could see.

You lie next to me on the bed,
Your body as close as could be.
Then I felt the exotic rapture,
As slowly you entered me.

So fulfilling was our love that night,
We knew our love was for real.
Our elated joy and rapture,
Was very hard to conceal.

Now we'll have this precious memory,
As long as we both shall live.
We'll share our sorrows and happiness,
And all the love we have to give.

Author: Del


Darn That Crazy Dream
 
Darn that crazy dream,
It sneaks into my bed every night.
It brings you right besides me,
And you fill me with utter delight.

I'm still breathless when I awake,
And I'm shuddering with ecstasy.
In the darkness of my lonely room,
You make passionate love to me.

I feel your hands caressing my body,
Your lips kissing me everywhere.
Then I stroke your face tenderly,
And I tell you how much I care.

This dark lonely room's silence is broken,
By sighs of the joyous rapture I feel,
Oh, darn this crazy tantalizing dream.
Why can't it some night be real?

Author: Del


A Heavenly Night
 
Soft music fills the candlelit room,
Just the two of us, with all our love to share.
You kiss my lips and tenderly caress me.
Keep telling me how much you care.

Your hands are caressing my breasts,
The sensation I feel is so thrilling.
Everytime you make love to me,
It gets more and more fulfilling.

Now I'm enjoying your warm wet kisses.
They are awakening my passionate senses.
When you whisper sweet love words in my ear,
The erotic feeling comes on, my body tenses.

Then I tell you how much you mean to me.
I kiss you with my wet eager lips.
I gaze into your dark brown eyes
An caress your face with my finger tips.

Like a magnet your body is drawn to mine.
I moan with utter delight.
With the rhythmical motions of love,
We conclude a heavenly night.

Author: Del


A Delicate Poem 
 
Slowly
You dive in my body
And sweetness
Is all around…
Slowly
I touch your soul
And you feel my perfume
Everywhere you go…
Our intense chemistry
Fills the room with desire
And passion…
I hold
Your heart in my hands
And with you by my side,
Life gets easy to stand and to
Understand…
Slowly
You float gently in my body
And I can see love revealing
So many secrets
Again and again
As we lie in bed
Watching the beauty of the rain.

Author: Karla Bardanza


Desires
 
I just want to hold you near.
Only when you're gone.
These desires are deadly
And I don't know if
I can wait these two long weeks.
I just want to lay you down,
Kiss down your body,
Give you pleasure you never knew existed.
New experiences are what make life so
great!
I just want to lay in your arms,
Smoke a nice cigarette
After love embraced us and created us as
one!
After this seemingly long time passes,
I'll give you the rest of your "birthday
present"!
You just wouldn't believe!
Only because you deserve it and nothing less!

Author: Carol Z


Ah! Those Memories
 
The flame in my heart's growing brighter.
So much brighter every day.
Absence makes the heart grow fonder,
That's what the proverbs say.

All I have are memories,
Of how things used to be.
How you sent me to seventh heaven,
When you made such tender love to me.

I could sense the urgency of your love,
But slowly, you kissed and caressed me.
You knew these feelings were new to me,
So you continued to arouse me so patiently.

Then you told me how much you loved me.
Those words made me want to cry.
Oh, how can I forget those exotic evenings?
I'll remember then til I die.

Will they always be only memories?
Or does our love stand a chance?
Please tell me we'll be together again,
So we can continue this heavenly romance.

Author: Del


Sleep With Me Tonight
 
every night as I sleep
I feel someone sleeping with me

every night when I lay me down
I say a prayer or two
to get a glimpse of you in my dream

shhh
there's someone leanin' against me

every night with out fail
I find myself up against
your warm burning flesh

shhh
there's someone sharin' my bed

I turn around and see no one
but this much I know
that your lying nrxt to me

shhh
there's someone in my bed

I can feel you making love to me
your skin is as smooth as the
satin sheets you wrap over us

shhh
there's someone's warm body up against me

your love so warm and tender
your like the morning sun peeking in
penetrating deep within

shhh
there's someone makin' love to me

your silky love pours in slowly
just like a soft summer rain
washing over every part of me

shhh
there's someone holdin' me

I know it's you
I feel your sensual touch
every night as I sleep
with you right next to me sleeping in my bed

shhh
come back and share my bed

sleep with me tonight

Author: Terrie*


Sweet Release
 
Ah! Sweet Release
Life's greatest reward
Let go of all stress
Of the day that was born

Sparks Fly
With thunder and lighting inside
Holding back vocals
Feeling warm and inspired

Ah ! sweet sensation
Relaxing, well spent
Animated with life
Spine tingling event

All Wrongs now forgotten
All focus on self
Ah! sweet release
Of enjoying oneself

12 June, 2002
Author: Rebecca Ditch-Hammack (aka Dreamer)

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Saturday, 28 February 2015

Racism Poetry

I’m Not My Skin
 https://jamaicanloveblog.files.wordpress.com/2013/02/sexy-black-woman2.jpg


I’m not my skin
I’m not your expectations
I’m the soul that lives in me,
I’m that which the blind can see
And all that you can’t see.

I’m the little boy confused
By the world’s segregation,
I’m the laugh of their talk,
I’m not trying to be you,
Look at my stiff black hair?
It stands tall like trees in the forest:
Its feels so pure and sets me free.
Look at my thoughts, they are diverse
And full of colors.

I’m not my skin
I’m not who you think Iam,
I’m the river that flows and blesses
Every oasis with a touch of water.
I’m the man who sees no color.

Touch my tan skin
And you’ll see that I’m human too.
I’m not trying to gain approval from you,
I just want you to know that I’m not my skin.
My culture is scarred by the human traitors,
I owe no forgiveness to any man alive…
Does the way I walk, smile or wear my afro
Make me any less human?
Should I be ashamed of my own skin?

I’m not my skin,
I’m not my hair,
I’m the soul that lives within,
Poverty, disease, loss of human dignity
Are my arch enemies besides man.

Your broken kisses heal my human body,
You spite for a person of a person my kind
Cannot break or shake to take me away into any
Sort of mortal shame for the skin that covers my
Bones and muscles.
My hearts beats rhythmically like a Zambian drum,
My broad nose inhales the air my ancestors left,
My eyes see the moon, sun and the stars
That Bantu forefathers
Worshiped and sacrificed lives for…
And this is who I’ll always be.

I’m not my skin,
I’m the simple person you’ll never know,
I’m the culture will never touch,
I’m the proud onyx soul you’ll never kiss.

I’m that little girl on mother’s back
Who she carried whenever
She went begging on the street,
I’m that lost lone needle in the hay.
You can only see my russet skin..
In me you can only see a slave,
A second class human!
I’ll continue to walk tall like the beautiful
African queen my mother told me I’m.

I’m not my skin,
Like you I’m not perfect, I react when I don’t mean to.
To kill me, take away my skin
And throw it beyond my children’s reach.
My black skin rages your emotions…
Your lust for another killing of my kind
Fuels every breath you take.

Here’s a knife tear my skin apart?
You’ll see that the blood I hold is scarlet…
Like a human’s or any other animal’s.
When my heart is broken I cry just like you do,
To you good skin means bright and not black.
The sun can’t hurt me I tamed her,
The night’s creatures can’t see me
Because my skin camouflages my soul.
Your bitter words can’t hurt me, I hate them not you.


Nuchi Laccini - Zambia 



My Hair Does Not Define Who I Am

http://www.poklat.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/02/Zendaya-Dreadlocks.jpg

I am more than the 4C type
It does not get me where I’m going in life
The kinkiness does not exemplify what I am capable of
Just how I present myself out of love

I am more than the twist outs, braid outs, and wash and go’s
Even more classy than the glamorous afro
I am deeply enriched in intelligence
To support all of my investments

I am more than the olive oil and coconut oil
I’m just in love with my future to which I am loyal
I am concentrated to make it through
Just like the conditioner and shampoo

I am more than the natural hair product
Even though it not working would just be my luck
I am on a bright path towards my future
In which my dreams only need to mature

I am more than the deep conditioning and protein treatments
For my success does not have limits
I am going to be somebody
But I don’t know if the world is ready

I am more than the bad hair days
Because I conquer them in many ways
I am often misunderstood
In fact I knew that I would

I am more than my hair
Including its texture and style that makes people stare
I am only focused on the characteristics and traits that make up my personality
Therefore, my hair does not define who I am most importantly

Chekayah

Black Girl, Black Girl

 https://locdlife.files.wordpress.com/2010/09/nerrisa-irvingrastafartings.jpg

When I was in middle school, I went through a phase.
I wore distressed skinny jeans and alternative rock band tees and studded belts and belt chains and low canvas converse of nearly every color in the rainbow.
I listened to what to some, would be called "white people music."
I didn't know how to control my hair back then, so a ponytail with more of a mane than a tail was the backdrop to the abstract work of art that was my pre-teen face.
Amtrak braces going across jaggedy mountain teeth and two bushels of eyebrows protecting the fortress of chunky black glasses.

I was different.
There were a group of girls at my school that were more popular than the rest.
They all wore Hollister, Abercrombie, carried Coach wristlets and pranced around in this season's new Ugg boots. And only those.
They were acquaintances, but not friends.
I thought they didn't like me because I was different.
And then I remember my sixth grade self thinking about all the differences between me and these girls.
And I remember my sixth grade self zeroing in on one specific difference that I had to question more than the rest.
And I remember my sixth grade self asking my mom on the car ride to school,
"Mommy? Do you think they would like me more if I was white?"


And my mom didn't know exactly how to respond.
Part consideration and part hesitation. She didn't know how quite to respond.
Because being one of the few black beings growing up in white suburbia did not exactly provide the best answers to these types of questions.
But you know what she told me? 

The truth.
"Maybe sweetie. Maybe."
I remembered thinking that that was just so unfair, so rude, so ignorant of them.
And then I said, "Oh well. Their loss."


But now I'm 17. And social media is desensitizing my generation and granting people cyber courage to say things they would never say in the world outside their front door and attaining opinions that would never be claimed as their own if it weren't for this twisted society we let inside our homes.
Boys, NOT MEN, have become more picky, or excuse me, vocal about their preferences and choices in women lately on social media. And I quote:
"I only like snow bunnies and Latinas."
"I never once said black girls don't look good, I just said white and Spanish girls look better."
"I don't date black girls."
"Brazilian girls are the best then white girls then Spanish girls then dirt and then black girls."
End quote.


I am a black girl and I live in a world where the men who look just like my father with the same brown skin as me that I wear proudly tell me that they do not prefer my race of women, that we are at the bottom of the food chain, of the romantic hierarchy, of motherfucking society.
Black girls in a media picture get painted and depicted as bitter and loud and unattractive and uncivilized and uneducated and bestial and inhuman.
And that is not fair.
To me, my sister or my entire culture.


Just because my hair doesn't morph into perfect circular ringlets when wet or my complexion isn't fair enough to get off scotch free from the cops or I'm not mixed with enough nationalities to represent an entire melting pot, you're telling me you can't love me? Or you don't want to, because that's what society is telling you?

A surprising number of black males have been the culprits of this bullshit and buffoonery.
"I don't like black girls at all."
Look up from your insensitive tweet on your insensitive  phone in your insensitive hands and tell me what you see in front of you, feeding you, clothing you, loving you?
Your mother. A black girl.
When black men get murdered without justice across America, who is there, behind you, supporting you, standing up for you, fighting for you?
The black woman.


"Everybody has preferences, you have to respect them!"
Oh I'm all for respecting people's preferences but once their preferences lead them to disrespect me, fuck that, I don't know who told you respect was a one way street.
Stop feeding into society and basing the image of your ideal soul mate off of fetishes and novelties.
Stop throwing us into a corner and then turning us against each other with statements such as:
"Lightskin girls are winning"
"Brown skin girls are winning"
"Dark skin girls are winning"
Light, brown, dark, yellow, chocolate, caramel, copper - it does not matter.
We are all black girls and we all win together.


I do not want this racially infused hatred to be injected into my blood stream so that when I have a baby black girl she is born with insecurities.
I don't want her to come home to me and tell me that she likes a boy but she has to see, because she doesn't know if he likes black females.
I don't want her to come home to me and beg me to try and make her hair curlier or straighter or lighter or softer or longer because she doesn't think people will like her.
I don't want her to come home to me and tell me that she liked Devon but Devon liked Brittany more, and ask me, "Mommy? Do you think he would like me more if I was white?"
I do not want to give her the same answer my mom gave me.
I want to tell her, "No, sweetie, Devon doesn't like you because he's a fuck face who is blind to all the fantastic things that make you phenomenal."
I want to tell her that she can be loved no matter what her race is.
I want to tell her that love is based on the details of her heart and the contents of her mind, not the color of her hands that she will use to flip you bastards off.
I want to tell her, that just because the movies and tv portrays her as loud and uncontrollable, she doesn't have to be the opposite or just like it.
I want to tell her that if a man lumps her in and generalizes her by saying "He dates only black girls," she should dump his ass, because she is not a novelty.
I want to tell her that she doesn't need someone to love her, for her to love herself.
I want to tell her to empower herself and prove them all wrong.
I want to tell her to carry herself like royalty, no matter what she is told otherwise. 


Because she is a black girl. And that makes her a flawless queen.

kaitlynmcnab


Beautiful Black Woman

http://25.media.tumblr.com/811c8a703ee3f82a72dd059b912f95cb/tumblr_mwhm8d42kh1qas6e1o1_1280.jpg


Beautiful woman this poem is for you
Full of beauty and grace
Rare black Queen sitting high on your throne
No one can take your place
Your heart is full of pure gold
Never to be played with
Bought or sold
Your Love is Patient Your Love is kind
Always trying to bring joy to others even when you can’t do it for yourself
And keeping them close in mind
A good woman is what you are
A woman to whom is proud of who she is and what she stands for
Never seeking definition from whom she is with
A strong woman is what I see when I look at you
One who can pick up the small pieces of her broken heart
And carry on as if she was never hurt in the first place.
When talking about this woman I can’t help but smile
Knowing the woman that I can speak so highly of is ME.


cwoods2119


India Arie:"I am not my Hair" Lyrics
https://ronewzakcleveland.files.wordpress.com/2012/08/india-arie.jpg?w=500 
[Talking:]
Is that India.Arie? What happened to her hair? Ha ha ha ha ha
Dat dad a dat da [4x] Dad a ooh

[Verse 1]
Little girl with the press and curl
Age eight I got a Jheri curl
Thirteen I got a relaxer
I was a source of so much laughter
At fifteen when it all broke off
Eighteen and went all natural
February two thousand and two
I went and did
What I had to do
Because it was time to change my life
To become the women that I am inside
Ninety-seven dreadlock all gone
I looked in the mirror
For the first time and saw that HEY....

[Chorus]
I am not my hair
I am not this skin
I am not your expectations no no
I am not my hair
I ma not this skin
I am a soul that lives within


[Talking:]
What'd she do to her hair? I don't know it look crazy
I like it. I might do that.
Umm I wouldn't go that far. I know .. ha ha ha ha

[Verse 2]
Good hair means curls and waves
Bad hair means you look like a slave
At the turn of the century
Its time for us to redefine who we be
You can shave it off
Like a South African beauty
Or get in on lock
Like Bob Marley
You can rock it straight
Like Oprah Winfrey
If its not what's on your head
Its what's underneath and say HEY....

[Chorus]

[Bridge]
(Whoa, whoa, whoa)
Does the way I wear my hair make me a better person?
(Whoa, whoa, whoa)
Does the way I wear my hair make me a better friend? Oooh
(Whoa, whoa, whoa)
Does the way I wear my hair determine my integrity?
(Whoa, whoa, whoa)
I am expressing my creativity..
(Whoa, whoa, whoa)

[Verse 3]
Breast Cancer and Chemotherapy
Took away her crown and glory
She promised God if she was to survive
She would enjoy everyday of her life ooh
On national television
Her diamond eyes are sparkling
Bald headed like a full moon shining
Singing out to the whole wide world like HEY...

[Chorus 2x]

[Ad lib]
If I wanna shave it close
Or if I wanna rock locks
That don't take a bit away
From the soul that I got
Dat da da dat da [4x]
If I wanna where it braided
All down my back
I don't see what wrong with that
Dat da da dat da [4x]

[Talking:]
Is that India.Arie?
Ooh look she cut her hair!
I like that, its kinda PHAT
I don't know if I could do it.
But it looks sharp, it looks nice on her
She got a nice shaped head
She got an apple head
I know right?
It's perfect.

 

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MY AFRICA IN POETRY

  http://www.contemporary-african-art.com/images/john-kenny-sub-saharan-photography-across-the-african-continent-21632637.jpg

A Far Cry From Africa 
A wind is ruffling the tawny pelt
Of Africa, Kikuyu, quick as flies,
Batten upon the bloodstreams of the veldt.
Corpses are scattered through a paradise.
Only the worm, colonel of carrion, cries:
'Waste no compassion on these separate dead!'
Statistics justify and scholars seize
The salients of colonial policy.
What is that to the white child hacked in bed?
To savages, expendable as Jews?
Threshed out by beaters, the long rushes break
In a white dust of ibises whose cries
Have wheeled since civilizations dawn
>From the parched river or beast-teeming plain.
The violence of beast on beast is read
As natural law, but upright man
Seeks his divinity by inflicting pain.
Delirious as these worried beasts, his wars
Dance to the tightened carcass of a drum,
While he calls courage still that native dread
Of the white peace contracted by the dead.

Again brutish necessity wipes its hands
Upon the napkin of a dirty cause, again
A waste of our compassion, as with Spain,
The gorilla wrestles with the superman.
I who am poisoned with the blood of both,
Where shall I turn, divided to the vein?
I who have cursed
The drunken officer of British rule, how choose
Between this Africa and the English tongue I love?
Betray them both, or give back what they give?
How can I face such slaughter and be cool?
How can I turn from Africa and live?

 

Homage to My Hips

these hips are big hips.
they need space to
move around in.
they don't fit into little
petty places. these hips
are free hips.
they don't like to be held back.
these hips have never been enslaved,
they go where they want to go
they do what they want to do.
these hips are mighty hips.
these hips are magic hips.
i have known them
to put a spell on a man and
spin him like a top


Lucille Clifton 
 
 

An African Elegy


In the groves of Africa from their natural wonder
the wildebeest, zebra, the okapi, the elephant,
have enterd the marvelous. No greater marvelous
know I than the mind’s
natural jungle. The wives of the Congo
distil there their red and the husbands
hunt lion with spear and paint Death-spore
on their shields, wear his teeth, claws and hair
on ordinary occasions. There the Swahili
open his doors, let loose thru the trees
the tides of Death’s sound and distil
from their leaves the terrible red. He
is the consort of dreams I have seen, heard
in the orchestral dark
like the barking of dogs.


Death is the dog-headed man zebra striped
and surrounded by silence who walks like a lion,
who is black. It was his voice crying come back,
that Virginia Woolf heard, turnd
her fine skull, hounded and haunted, stopt,
pointed into the scent where
I see her in willows, in fog, at the river of sound
in the trees. I see her prepare there
to enter Death’s mountains
like a white Afghan hound pass into the forest,
closed after, let loose in the leaves
with more grace than a hound and more wonder there
even with flowers wound in her hair, allowing herself
like Ophelia a last
pastoral gesture of love toward the world.
And I see
all our tortures absolved in the fog,
dispersed in Death’s forests, forgotten. I see
all this gentleness like a hound in the water
float upward and outward beyond my dark hand.


I am waiting this winter for the more complete black-out,
for the negro armies in the eucalyptus, for the cities
laid open and the cold in the love-light, for hounds
women and birds to go back to their forests and leave us
our solitude.

. . .

Negroes, negroes, all those princes,
holding cups of rhinoceros bone, make
magic with my blood. Where beautiful Marijuana
towers taller than the eucalyptus, turns
within the lips of night and falls,
falls downward, where as giant Kings we gathered
and devourd her burning hands and feet, O Moonbar
thee and Clarinet! those talismans
that quickened in their sheltering leaves like thieves,
those Negroes, all those princes
holding to their mouths like Death
the cups of rhino bone,
were there to burn my hands and feet,
divine the limit of the bone and with their magic
tie and twist me like a rope. I know
no other continent of Africa more dark than this
dark continent of my breast.


And when we are deserted there,
when the rustling electric has passt thru the air,
once more we begin in the blind and blood throat
the African catches; and Desdemona, Desdemona
like a demon wails within our bodies, warns
against this towering Moor of self and then
laments her passing from him.


And I cry, Hear!
Hear in the coild and secretive ear
the drums that I hear beat. The Negroes, all those princes
holding cups of bone and horn, are there in halls
of blood that I call forests, in the dark
and shining caverns where
beats heart and pulses brain, in
jungles of my body, there
Othello moves, striped black and white,
the dog-faced fear. Moves I, I, I,
whom I have seen as black as Orpheus,
pursued deliriously his sound and drownd
in hunger’s tone, the deepest wilderness.


Then it was I, Death singing,
who bewildered the forest. I thot him
my lover like a hound of great purity
disturbing the shadow and flesh of the jungle.
This was the beginning of the ending year.
From all of the empty the tortured appear,
and the bird-faced children crawl out of their fathers
and into that never filld pocket,
the no longer asking but silent, seeing nowhere
the final sleep.


The halls of Africa we seek in dreams
as barriers of dream against the deep, and seas
disturbd turn back upon their tides
into the rooms deserted at the roots of love.
There is no end. And how sad then
is even the Congo. How the tired sirens
come up from the water, not to be toucht
but to lie on the rocks of the thunder.
How sad then is even the marvelous! 


Robert Duncan
 
 

Africa


A thousand years of darkness in her face,
She turns at last from out the centurys' blight
Of labored moan and dull oppression's might,
To slowly mount the rugged path and trace
Her measured step unto her ancient place.
And upward, ever upward towards the light
She strains, seeing afar the day when right
Shall rule the world and justice leaven the race.

Now bare her swarthy arm and firm her sword,
She stands where Universal Freedom bleeds,
And slays in holy wrath to save the word
Of nations and their puny, boasting creeds.
Sear with the truth, O God, each doubting heart,
Of mankind's need and Afric's gloried part. 


Joseph Seamon Cotter
 
 

A Trip Through Africa


All the noises, all the sounds, asleep.
Under seven streams sleeps fear.
And the elephant, so deep in sleep,
That you can sneak up, cut off his ear.
All the noises, all the sounds, asleep.
No rough axe will wake them, make them hear.
All the noises, all the sounds, asleep
In two eyes, two eyes still open deep—
The two eyes of God, still open deep.


Abraham Sutzkever 
 
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