Black Poetry : black history, who

baller

Well-Known Member
REGISTERED MEMBER
Jan 28, 2001
3,805
675
the near north
“Black History,” Who?
Our fore-parents hail from
The West Indies
Sold down the river by (rival) chieftains of ME
Like the PJs
On the fifteenth…and the first
(A few) play-pretty things
That’s all I was worth
Sold…by my people into a life of SERVITUDE
Forced across those rolling waters against the sounds of the loon
I crossed that forever river before land discovered ME
Saw (many) my sisters and brothers…asleep
In the darkness of that deep blue sea
Before the auction block found us
…Numbered our tally and made gold of us
‘Til the auctioneer cried SOLD of us
To the highest bidder, he delivered us
Into the hand of their liberty
The liberty they stole
And took
And transposed
Into their woes
They rose
To the level of DeMoN sPaWn
Went to hell and beyond
To deposit their sorrows
(For fun)
In those days
The days of our CRYptic past
When we thought we wouldn’t last
Beyond the next PLANTATION UPRISING
That brought forth many disguises
HARRIET TUBMAN
NAT TURNER
And radical abolitionists
Who waged war against the white man’s wish
To own the black man as his (Property)
Didn’t want to take dem shackles off’a me
From sun up to sundown
The heat bore down on us
The over-seers growled at us
Massa’s whip dug deep into us
We could not stomach the patchwork of scars
Cris-crossing our brother’s back
Forcing us to act
Realizing…we could not live our lives like that
If FREEDOM existed
We had to know
…Had to see
A man-superior
We could not believe
Our (mind) had to be FREE
Not cluttered by sensitivities to
“Massa, please…”
“Black History,” to me…
(Is that just) another means
Of trying to control the destiny of me
…Trying to tell me when I can celebrate my (ME)
~ Like my story only exists between the boundaries of Feb-ru-ary
One through twenty-eight days, We EMBARK
The other three hundred thirty-seven days, they say
We refuse to carry the torch
Au contraire
We led and bled
Three hundred sixty five days
EVERY year
Put this nation on our shoulders
And refused to show fear
Slavery didn’t kill us
Jim Crow couldn’t destroy us
We knew what to do
We tried and cried
Some of us lied…and still died
But WE pulled US through
Racism stood against us
Prejudice was never in favor of us
The whips and chains weren’t kind to us
‘Til the noose befriended us
Renamed us
“Strange Fruit”
Let the white man’s loot go to dust
As “ashes to ashes” reclaimed us
FREE
(Have we forgotten)
They fought a war…for us
The system turned water hoses on us
Beat us
Lynched us
Set the dogs on us
Still, they couldn’t destroy us
And we sit here…like the fight is over
Have we forgotten that
FREEDOM AIN’T FREE
Or, the price freedom paid
For you and me
Have you forgotten the struggles we endured?
Have the results obscured our plight?
By the patience (of waiting)
The procrastination (of hating
The patience relating to our success)
And the years it took to get us HERE
And we sit on our backsides claiming we have no fear
Sitting ‘round
With our heads in the clouds
Like we’re the “ish”
And don’t own ****
How did we so easily forget

Martin Luther King, Jr., or
Malcolm X, or
Marcus Garvey
And what about
Paul Robeson and
Medgar Evers
Have we forgotten them, too?
Or the hundreds of others
Of our sisters and brothers
Who’ve died for the privileges
We have THIS day
When I speak to you
You have nothing good to say
Is that what they died for?
Is that your way?
My brethren…of the struggle
Through the “civil rights” fights
And klan lynchings by midnight
All hooded and afraid
Couldn’t face daylight and be brave
The struggle
Through the marches…and sit-ins
Boycotts…while at wit’s end
We struggled to get in (with)
A people we couldn’t fit in (with)
The struggle
“In God we trust”
We committed our soul
Ready to die for us
The struggle
Through slavery days
When STRANGE FRUIT seemed a better way
Of opposing their choosing
For, in death, we weren’t losing
The struggle
Through jim crow’s tyranny
Racism and bigotry
Other oppression…we could not see
Still…we pressed on……..gallantly
The struggle
In societies of recent years
With lackadaisical atmospheres
Where creature-comforts readily define us
While the enemy’s reach is within grasp of us
An endangered species we’ve become
~ A separate people
While they’ve become one
Yet…you think we’ve won
My brethren…
 
The sincerity of our struggle is not apparent to the masses
Rendering shallow shades of unity
Called disharmony
Making resistance seem
Futile
In the Absence of tranquility
Senility seeps in
But do not despair
Strugglers are long-sufferers
Accepting the “pain of their struggle”
As their “breath of life”
Knowing there is no instantaneous resolve
We struggle to last, and
Last against all odds
We fight for right, coz
Right is all we have (to fight for)
We last beyond now, because
We don’t know how to lay down
So, we fight one day
And then…another
Holding on ‘til right pushes wrong aside
Remembering what our forefathers cried:
Keep your eyes on the prize
And never look back
To stay the course
You must be strong
…embolden by this fact:
Right is right
(do yo’ thang)
THANKS for reading.
 
“Black History,” Who?
Our fore-parents hail from
The West Indies
Sold down the river by (rival) chieftains of ME
Like the PJs
On the fifteenth…and the first
(A few) play-pretty things
That’s all I was worth
Sold…by my people into a life of SERVITUDE
Forced across those rolling waters against the sounds of the loon
I crossed that forever river before land discovered ME
Saw (many) my sisters and brothers…asleep
In the darkness of that deep blue sea
Before the auction block found us
…Numbered our tally and made gold of us
‘Til the auctioneer cried SOLD of us
To the highest bidder, he delivered us
Into the hand of their liberty
The liberty they stole
And took
And transposed
Into their woes
They rose
To the level of DeMoN sPaWn
Went to hell and beyond
To deposit their sorrows
(For fun)
In those days
The days of our CRYptic past
When we thought we wouldn’t last
Beyond the next PLANTATION UPRISING
That brought forth many disguises
HARRIET TUBMAN
NAT TURNER
And radical abolitionists
Who waged war against the white man’s wish
To own the black man as his (Property)
Didn’t want to take dem shackles off’a me
From sun up to sundown
The heat bore down on us
The over-seers growled at us
Massa’s whip dug deep into us
We could not stomach the patchwork of scars
Cris-crossing our brother’s back
Forcing us to act
Realizing…we could not live our lives like that
If FREEDOM existed
We had to know
…Had to see
A man-superior
We could not believe
Our (mind) had to be FREE
Not cluttered by sensitivities to
“Massa, please…”
“Black History,” to me…
(Is that just) another means
Of trying to control the destiny of me
…Trying to tell me when I can celebrate my (ME)
~ Like my story only exists between the boundaries of Feb-ru-ary
One through twenty-eight days, We EMBARK
The other three hundred thirty-seven days, they say
We refuse to carry the torch
Au contraire
We led and bled
Three hundred sixty five days
EVERY year
Put this nation on our shoulders
And refused to show fear
Slavery didn’t kill us
Jim Crow couldn’t destroy us
We knew what to do
We tried and cried
Some of us lied…and still died
But WE pulled US through
Racism stood against us
Prejudice was never in favor of us
The whips and chains weren’t kind to us
‘Til the noose befriended us
Renamed us
“Strange Fruit”
Let the white man’s loot go to dust
As “ashes to ashes” reclaimed us
FREE
(Have we forgotten)
They fought a war…for us
The system turned water hoses on us
Beat us
Lynched us
Set the dogs on us
Still, they couldn’t destroy us
And we sit here…like the fight is over
Have we forgotten that
FREEDOM AIN’T FREE
Or, the price freedom paid
For you and me
Have you forgotten the struggles we endured?
Have the results obscured our plight?
By the patience (of waiting)
The procrastination (of hating
The patience relating to our success)
And the years it took to get us HERE
And we sit on our backsides claiming we have no fear
Sitting ‘round
With our heads in the clouds
Like we’re the “ish”
And don’t own ****
How did we so easily forget

Martin Luther King, Jr., or
Malcolm X, or
Marcus Garvey
And what about
Paul Robeson and
Medgar Evers
Have we forgotten them, too?
Or the hundreds of others
Of our sisters and brothers
Who’ve died for the privileges
We have THIS day
When I speak to you
You have nothing good to say
Is that what they died for?
Is that your way?
My brethren…of the struggle
Through the “civil rights” fights
And klan lynchings by midnight
All hooded and afraid
Couldn’t face daylight and be brave
The struggle
Through the marches…and sit-ins
Boycotts…while at wit’s end
We struggled to get in (with)
A people we couldn’t fit in (with)
The struggle
“In God we trust”
We committed our soul
Ready to die for us
The struggle
Through slavery days
When STRANGE FRUIT seemed a better way
Of opposing their choosing
For, in death, we weren’t losing
The struggle
Through jim crow’s tyranny
Racism and bigotry
Other oppression…we could not see
Still…we pressed on……..gallantly
The struggle
In societies of recent years
With lackadaisical atmospheres
Where creature-comforts readily define us
While the enemy’s reach is within grasp of us
An endangered species we’ve become
~ A separate people
While they’ve become one
Yet…you think we’ve won
My brethren…

I have not forgotten. Cannot forget. Will not forget. Powerful, my friend!
 

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