Black History Month- British black poet Shamshad Khan: “High Time” Black elephants jazz dancing gold and red grin i imagine they wave as they pass the window of my third floor flat just in case they are i wave back … Continue reading
Alternative Anthem Put the kettle on Put the kettle on It is the British answer to Armageddon. Never mind taxes rise Never mind trains are late One thing you can be sure of and that’s the kettle, mate. It’s not … Continue reading
London’s first young poet laureate!!! Teaching My Mother to Give Birth by Warsan Shire: “later that night i held an atlas in my lap ran my fingers across the whole world and whispered where does it hurt?” it answered … Continue reading
Poems about The Body. Calvin Forbes, Black poet- “Picture of a Man” He draws a man, bright swirls of red. And I say give me a tree. He points to the middle of his red and says “there’s a tree!” … Continue reading
Poems about Your Body. Lucille Clifton, black poet- The Lost Baby Poem. the time i dropped your almost body down down to meet the waters under the city and run one with the sewage to the sea what did i … Continue reading
Black History Month- poems about your body. listen children keep this in the place you have for keeping always keep it all ways we have never hated black listen we have been ashamed hopeless tired mad but always all … Continue reading
Black History Month- poems about your body. She does not know her beauty, she thinks her brown body has no glory. If she could dance naked under palm trees and see her image in the river, she would know. But … Continue reading
Black History– poems about the body and freedom. This one is by Weldon J. Irvine. Young, gifted, and blackOh what a lovely precious dream.To be young, gifted, and blackOpen your heart to what I mean.In the whole world you knowThere’s … Continue reading
Black History Month– Poems about the body. Your body. Your body. […] alone on the streets/alone not being the point/ the point being that I can’t do what I want to do with my own body because I am the … Continue reading
Flame-Heart by Claude McKay; his tropical memories. SO much have I forgotten in ten years, So much in ten brief years! I have forgot What time the purple apples come to juice, And what month brings the shy forget-me-not. I … Continue reading
For love of all hot dusty roads, and our childhood memories, The Tropics of New York by Claude McKay in 2014 Black History Month’s last days. Thinking of Jamaica. Bananas ripe and green, and ginger root Cocoa in pods and alligator … Continue reading
I am a Black Woman I am a black woman the music of my song some sweet arpeggio of tears is written in a minor key and I can be heard humming in the night Can be heard humming in … Continue reading
The Source of the Singing […] Under everything this movement, stars and wind circle around the smaller circles of the grass, and the birds caged in the kitchen sing it over and over, inexplicably in their sweet chirps. I feel … Continue reading
Photos by: unknown and from corridors magazine.org Photo by JMU Media Services Whispers in a Country Church. Who’s that dark woman Sittin’ next to the preacher Eyeing at his feet? Lord, look at her. Red hat. Flowers. Perfume … Continue reading
