Poets of the Diaspora Log

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Poets of the Diaspora Log

Poetic verse that inspires us to greatness and touches our collective spirit. Your own verse and your favorites too.

Members: 27
Latest Activity: Nov 19, 2010

Langston Hughes


"A NEW SONG"

I speak in the name of the black millions
Awakening to action.
Let all others keep silent a moment
I have this word to bring,
This thing to say,
This song to sing:
Bitter was the day
When I bowed my back
Beneath the slaver's whip.
That day is past.
Bitter was the day
When I saw my children unschooled,
My young men without a voice in the world,
My women taken as the body-toys
Of a thieving people.
That day is past.
Bitter was the day, I say,
When the lyncher's rope
Hung about my neck,
And the fire scorched my feet,
And the oppressors had no pity,
And only in the sorrow songs
Relief was found.
That day is past.
I know full well now
Only my own hands,
Dark as the earth,
Can make my earth-dark body free.
O thieves, exploiters, killers,
No longer shall you say
With arrogant eyes and scornful lips:
"You are my servant,
Black man-
I, the free!"
That day is past-
For now,
In many mouths-
Dark mouths where red tongues burn
And white teeth gleam-
New words are formed,
Bitter
With the past
But sweet
With the dream.
Tense,
Unyielding,
Strong and sure,
They sweep the earth-
Revolt! Arise!
The Black
And White World
Shall be one!
The Worker's World!
The past is done!
A new dream flames
Against the
Sun!

Gold Medal Group Award for content and originality


When posting a poem, please do so as a Discussion Forum.
That will allow for more individual comments to your post...

Discussion Forum

Ghetto City Blues (Makes Me Wanna Holler) 3 Replies

Started by SoleMannKing. Last reply by Soul2verse Feb 9, 2010.

..."You Better Watch Out...You Better Not Cry..." 1 Reply

Started by Emilio Williams. Last reply by Emilio Williams Nov 30, 2009.

FATHER WHERE ARE YOU

Started by Soul2verse Mar 26, 2010.

HELICOPTERS OVER MY HEAD

Started by Soul2verse Feb 9, 2010.

My Grandfather, The Cotton Club, And Billy Eckstine

Started by SoleMannKing Dec 23, 2009.

The Soul Of Homeless Walter

Started by SoleMannKing Nov 25, 2009.

Denial of The SELF Is The Source of the Problem

Started by Emilio Williams Nov 4, 2009.

We Must Never Forget (A Poetic Case for Reparations)

Started by Ty Gray-EL Oct 31, 2009.

Comment Wall

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Comment by Jon Vee on June 5, 2010 at 12:39pm
I love many from Langston Frost Browing Angelou etc but right now I have only one sticking to my mind


HE Says

He says that I'm beautiful
But it's deeper than brothers
Honkin horns
blowin kisses
Buyin drinks

He says my beauty can be seen even better with his eyes closed
And
Every now and then
he swears he can touch my beauty but he says
He's not worthy and he's glad I can't see that

He says he likes my style
Feminine with a little rugged
Just enough lady mixed with ghetto chic and urban funk

He says I'm powerful with poetry
The way I use ordinary words and make them sing
He hums my songs

He says he knows me
Favorite number 4
Favorite color black
Favorite juice peach
Favorite style free

Hey says he loves the way I make love
With my whole self
Imploring, no demanding he do the same

He says that I constantly make myself new and better
he loves the quality
and do I think that maybe on day possibly
I could spend my life with him


He says he loves me
I say I'm just lucky and I'm glad
he can't see that

BY JILL SCOTT
Comment by Jon Vee on June 5, 2010 at 12:29pm
I, Too, Sing America
by Langston Hughes

I, too, sing America.

I am the darker brother.
They send me to eat in the kitchen
When company comes,
But I laugh,
And eat well,
And grow strong.

Tomorrow,
I'll be at the table
When company comes.
Nobody'll dare
Say to me,
"Eat in the kitchen,"
Then.

Besides,
They'll see how beautiful I am
And be ashamed--

I, too, am America.
Comment by Emilio Williams on October 30, 2009 at 8:47am
Building Cultural Capital

How do we expect precious freedom to ring
And have the blessed nature of peace to manifest
When the ignorance and lies are concealed and disguised
Never acknowledging your contributions – your best

For the beauty of your assets
And alllll that you have done
Continue to marginalized and denied
Yet apparently – only for some

If you investigate, reflect and explore
Truths that are substantiated – that are factual
You will make a deposit in your life journey bank
As you build your cultural capital

Please, please… understand …
and don’t take this as a lack of respect
But everybody that does not look like you
Should not be treated with neglect

Though your ignorance is bliss
And you refuse to face it
Let me be the first to tell you
That every white person you meet is not racist

Every Jew is not rich…
and every young person wanting to change
his or her community
Ain’t trying to be a snitch

Every Latino, Hispanic or Spanish person
Is not trying to take your job
And when you see a group of teens hanging out
That does not mean you will be robbed

Every Black person is not lazy,
Shiftless, sexual or dumb
And every politician is not crooked
Not all, quite a few – just some

Every match won’t light and every pit-bull won’t bite
Every Asian is not a whiz at math - just don’t believe the hype
The mental energy fields you have created
My friends… - are only stereotypes

Every person that expresses emotions
Is not angry and ready to raise a fist
Don’t be astonished by the behavior you won’t admonish
Every Russian is not a communist

Of all the heinous assertions you have created and parade
Please know real deep inside as your ignorance takes pride
Every gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender person –
does not carry AIDS

You’ve made the same lies against Arabs and Muslims
And anyone from the Middle East
As fear continues to escalate
Spreading throughout everything – like dough introduced to yeast

Every football team cant win the super bowl
That’s why on that Sunday when the truth unfolds
And it may not come from your churches
…Let the truth be told

We’ve been doing it for a long, long time and one thing I think and I know you will find
Is that its all a lie, while others get by with no conscious sense or civility
While they boast your demise…and their profits continue to rise
As you are put in your place as they tout their superiority

We tend to fear what we don’t understand
and can’t comprehend that which we do not know
In our efforts to fiiiiinnnalllly see,
My challenges to each of you as you walk your path
Is to check your epistemology

As you learn about one another I think the truth you will discover
That we are all very similar and at the same time quite unique
At least that’s what cultural anthropologists, students of life, even what
the gene Nome scientists think

We all want to bring a quality of life
Where there is justice, freedom and peace
But even as much as you have disrespected me
You have done the same to all others from most to least

Get outside of your proverbial box
Open it up and you’ll begin to respond in different ways
Interacting with us differently
Blacks, Latinos, Asians, Middle Easterners, yep politicians, lawyers, women, youth and even gays

Build cultural capital - get your head out of the sand
Your life does not have to be that tasteless and bland
Its not all a roll of the dice – just add some cultural spice
And really help to heal our land

How do we expect freedom to ring
And the blessed nature of peace to manifest
When the ignorance and lies are concealed and disguised
Never acknowledging your contributions – your best.

Emilio N. Williams © 2009
Comment by Ty Gray-EL on October 2, 2009 at 10:09pm
"where
water meets land, and
secrets lay dormant
deep beneath the sand"

Very profound, a moving peace of prose and poetry.
I enjoyed this very much.
Comment by Lydell Jackson on October 2, 2009 at 4:39pm
Excellent as usual Terry!

Such passionate verse...your trademark!!!
Comment by Ty Gray-EL on March 20, 2009 at 9:53am
I grew up in the first black public assistance housing project in the United States. It was called Langston Terrace

I wrote this poem as a tribute to Langston Hughes

"Deferred Dreams"

I dreamed of a home where the grass was green
my neighbors were happy and pleasant
But I woke to streets of asphalt so mean
only fear and despair were present
MY DREAM WAS DEFERRED

I dreamed the schools taught children to think
and the system encouraged our youth
But curriculums didn’t have the missing link
and some books taught lies not truth
ANOTHER DEFERRED DREAM.

I dreamt that crack never entered my hood
and the eyes of my people were clear
But I woke to merchants up to no good
selling five dollar rocks right here
ANOTHER DEFERRED DREAM

I dreamed king heroin lost his throne
and my folk regained their pride
But I woke in the projects, hooked on bone
and my pride, was set aside
YET ANOTHER DEFERRED DREAM.

I dreamt that murder was a thing of the past
and weapons had disappeared
Yet I woke to a generation dying fast
with gunshots loud and clear
STILL ANOTHER DEFERRED DREAM.

Finally, I dreamed it was all a plot
that my deferment was contrived
But when I woke, the reward I got
was the knowledge I had survived
IN SPITE OF MY DEFERRED DREAMS.
Comment by Rasheedah Sabreen on February 23, 2009 at 11:28pm
Greetings, Lydell,
I don't consider my Self a poet but I have a great appreciation of it. I recall the day I learned our people wrote poetry. I was on a bi-weekly trek to the library with my friends.As usual I slipped over into the "adult" section and did my browsing in the poetry section. I was struck by a book with solid black cover and gold letters. The title was "On These I Stand" by Countee Cullen. The librarian was good enough to let me borrow the book since it was poetry. I wrapped my Self in that book and was amazed and stunned when I realized I held in my hands the words of a Black poet. In school all the poetry we studied was written by white people. I enjoyed those verses but my discovery of Countee Cullen's verses touched my soul and inspired me to try my hand at poetry.

Love and Gratitude, RAsheedah Sabreen
 

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