Black Poetry : How We Learned To Un-Love Ourselves In Cosmopolitan: Dedicated To Toni Morrison

Discussion in 'Black Poetry - Get Your Flow On!' started by Hunter, Oct 18, 2001.

  1. Hunter

    Hunter Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    I woke up this morning

    Thinking about Toni Morrison's
    "THE BLUEST EYE"
    And I realized
    How we learned to un-love ourselves
    In Cosmopolitan

    This morning

    I thought about
    The conspiracy of toy shelves
    And 'Pecola's' bluest, blackest eye
    My tears flowed 1940s
    For a country
    And brand new flowered dresses
    That she would never own

    Those hands that mass-produced
    American "Made In China" dolls
    Will never know
    The devastation of caucasian cults

    How they recruited us
    Still wearing our
    'Negro Slave' mentalities
    In the days before
    'BROWN VS. WADE'

    And those little negro girls
    Told the truth in court too
    When they told those white men
    That they would rather play with a white doll
    Than a black raggedy Ann

    Cos' little black girls really do
    Possess the power to understand
    That the sight of their Mama's
    Scrubbing white women's kitchen floors
    Meant glass-ceilings


    I woke up this morning

    Thinking about the first time
    I tried to embrace all of me
    With that blond-haired, 'Sally' doll
    Some Uncle-Tom-loving Santa Clause
    Left for me underneath the Christmas Tree
    My father's hard-earned money
    Unsatisfied me

    I tried a few times
    To tame that yellow hair
    With my black knuckles

    But the corn rows just kept unravelling

    My mind was still travelling...

    This morning

    And I stopped to remind myself along the way
    That there was nothing wrong with my cuticles
    It was those white girls that couldn't stand the plaits

    But I don't ever really go back
    Reversed racism is not the solution

    I woke up this morning

    Thinking about the magnitude of the cosmos
    And how they force-fed us
    Every nation but our own
    Until the Memorial Day

    It took us a long time to eat
    Our own home grown
    Beautiful brown eyes
    To embrace the thickness of our thighs
    And to ask the world to ride
    The elevation of our behinds

    I woke up this morning

    Thinking
    That we make beautiful black dolls


    *Hunter*
    All Rights Reserved
     
  2. Kitana

    Kitana Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    Hunter....this is awe-inspiring..a beautiful story told here that speaks of so many emotions...with so much truth and pain..

    this verse..
    "I tried a few times..to tame that yellow hair...With my black knuckles"....paints a picture so clear, so sad, so unfair...but says so much at the same time...

    the price some people have to pay, not for a different coloured skin...but because of anothers ignorance, hatred and intolerance towards that difference ...

    this piece was delivered with your usual sense of unlimited style and depth...

    K
     
  3. poeticdelight

    poeticdelight Member MEMBER

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    Kitana beat me to it

    *snapping my fingers*

    this poem speaks the truth


    yeah, i remember quite well that
    the white dolls with stringy hair
    could never stand the plaits *smh*
     
  4. blakverb

    blakverb Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    I stand in amazement....

    "10"

    blak
     
  5. alyce

    alyce Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    You know I sit

    here in awe, reading you. I am so very thankful to God above, from whence cometh ALL FLOW, for you!

    You command the English language, my sista...making the crooked straight and the rough places "plain".

    Much respect,

    :heart:

    a
     
  6. $$RICH$$

    $$RICH$$ Lyon King Admin. STAFF

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    ya on point

    speaking da truth sista
    now to canvass u paint!
     
  7. j'hiah

    j'hiah Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    amazin'

    b(you)tifull black woman,

    this surpasses any good thing there is to say about this piece-
    2 great to respond..

    jh.
     
  8. msluciousb

    msluciousb Well-Known Member MEMBER

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  9. msluciousb

    msluciousb Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    I stilll get angry about the little girls who cried on Easter Sunday morning cause their Shirley Temple curls did not last all day!
     
  10. dnommo

    dnommo Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    what can i say about this but...excellence in scriptive form...
     
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