racism poems

Baltimore's Son, Freddie Gray | Najwa Kareem - Contemporary Poetry Website Featuring Notable Poems

Baltimore’s Son, Freddie Gray | Najwa Kareem

Would you have guessed you’d be next?
Perhaps you said so to someone close once in a text. Your suspicions concerning the police kept you running.
Did you ever consider that maybe you were too stunning?
That maybe your continuous smile was too bright.
That maybe your face was filled with too much light.
That maybe your comings and goings, your daily visits to Mom were too much.
That perhaps your happy, cheerful, respectful demeanor could reach out and touch.
That maybe a look into your eyes, they were blinded by the sun.
That surely at the ripe age of 25, your life would be done.
An act of racism I ask?
An act of brutality I ask?
An act of inhumanity I ask?
An act of injustice I ask?
Where in police school does one learn that a young black man standing on the street makes him a suspect?
Where in police school does one learn wearing Prada makes you a
prospective criminal?
Where in police school does one learn that having a nickname Pepper
makes one a target?
Where in police school does one learn that a citizen’s lead
poisoning makes him a magnet for a 6 police officer raid?
Where in police school does one learn that having no knowledge of a
man carrying a knife makes him the next chase?
Where in police school does one learn that being a human officer
entitles one to act unjustly against a human person?
Who are you or I to say because he couldn’t read as well as you or I his life didn’t matter?
Who are you or I to say because Freddie lived like many in low-income housing he didn’t deserve a chance at a better life?
Who are you or I to say because he had been arrested for drug
possession in the past he didn’t deserve to live out his dream?
Who are you or I to say because he liked to sing and make others laugh he didn’t deserve a life of dignity?
Who are you or I to say he didn’t have the right to continue
visiting his dear Mother, Mrs. Gloria Darden?
Who are you or I to say he shouldn’t have had the privilege to
continue walking Baltimore’s streets?
Now Freddie our hearts grieve your loss.
Now Freddie my heart grieves your uncalled-for death.
Now Freddie your prideful city has simmered down but it still feels
the pain.
Now Freddie my warmest sympathy to you, your family, your friends,
your supporters, and the city of Baltimore.

Blanket | John Baverstock - Contemporary Poetry Website Featuring Notable Poems

Blanket | John Baverstock

The boy was surrounded by the gang,
One looked straight into his eyes,
Then asked are you frightened man?
The boy who was black,
His eyes had fear written all over them,
Though he was never going to say yes to the question,
He had been subject to name calling and being bullied,
Throughout his short life,
Once being threatened by the gang wielding a knife,
Fear was relatively all he had ever known,
This because of his skin colour and its tone,
An onlooker rushed over and came to the boy’s aid,
The gang backed off, they could tell he was afraid,
What’s up with you lot? the onlooker said,
What has this boy done to you?
Why are you surrounding him?
You should be ashamed of yourselves,
Persecuting someone because of their colour of their skin,
Inside we are all the same,
We all have hearts, we all have lungs,
We breathe the same,
That is because we are the same,
You need to understand your shame,
Our skin is merely a blanket,
That is wrapped around our frame,
Inside we are the same…
That is because we are the same…

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Unintentional Anonymity | Langley Shazor - Contemporary Poetry Website Featuring Notable Poems

Unintentional Anonymity | Langley Shazor

Just another
Black face in the crowd
Going unnoticed
Overlooked
Even in this town
Where we are few
And far between
We are inherently
Paid no attention to
You glance again
“Oh hey, I didn’t recognize you”
And you wouldn’t have
Had you not thought
I was going to relieve you
Of your items of value
We have sat together
Shared meals
Conversed
Celebrated ideas
The genesis of great opportunities
But the conditioning
Stands at attention
Alert and aware of my presence
But unaware of my identity
If I hadn’t spoken
You would have walked by me
Just another
Black face

A Letter to the Racist | Joseph C. Ogbonna - Contemporary Poetry Website Featuring Notable Poems

A Letter to the Racist | Joseph C. Ogbonna

I love only my kind.
But a world of just
your kind would to
monotony consign you.

I celebrate just my kind.
But a world that celebrates
only you, would to the utter
depths of boredom relegate you.

I prefer just my kind.
But the preference of your kind
would your curiosity wear out.

I only recognize my world.
But a world of only you
can never its horizon broaden.

I only relish my own race.
But a world devoid of
other races would be the
most uninteresting.

My race must the entire earth occupy.
But without the ‘inferior’ races,
how could you ‘superiority’ claim?

I have a lebensraum for my
race to occupy.
A lebensraum for only you
would geography obliterate.

So let your world be yours,
and let mine be mine.

Your culture and language you
may retain, whilst mine I also
retain,

as we both our diversity
celebrate.
Because diversity is nothing
more than the spice of life.

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Prodigal Mother | Nyashadzashe Chikumbu - Contemporary Poetry Website Featuring Notable Poems

Prodigal Mother | Nyashadzashe Chikumbu

What am I?
That gum you spat seconds
before you even chewed.
The black illegitimate son
you exorcised from your
societies.
With Regurgitated filth – rats
I was baptized in the slums.
Graced in proletariat garments.
My Creative ingenuity Splatter(ed)
like a fly between
a spatula and gravel.
As I dived, medulla first into
stagnated mud pools.

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