Love Poems About Race or Race Love Poems

Race love poems and/or love poems about Race. Read, share, and enjoy these Race love poems! Also, try our sister website's powerful search engine for poems.

Poem Details | by Anne-Marie Coreggia |
Categories: love, music, race, romantic, sea,

Love me in Black and White

Love me in Black and White musical intro From the keys of your heart a melody rolled back the night illuminated the sky with its symphony of lights and fired new stars in the firmament, each a budding soul, a firework of colors spun within the black and white keys of your heart. lyric /song (0:30 / 2:18) If you find me If you love me I’ll open all the doors to that secret place where time and space lie all snuggled up in place into love’s embrace and eternity’s grace just love me (x) in black and white (x) and all the grey of my heart will soon disappear for your sea-foam brush will spray clots of colors in fertile soil just find me (x) and love me (x) black or white and a burst of moonbeam will unfurl its loving sails and my pain will drop right back into the sea of moonless dreams. back to musical intro (1:52)

Poem Details | by Dorian Petersen Potter |
Categories: beautiful, horse, love, race,

The Kentucky Derby- The Quatrain Style

~The Kentucky Derby~

What a glorious day it is today,
As people of all ages are having fun,
Because  the Kentucky Derby race,
Is taking place  till the day is done.

You can really see all around the, 
Throughbred beautiful horses,too,
That will be competing for the, 
grand prize that they'll give today.

There are very large crowds everywhere,and,
Folks are laughing and making bets to,
For their favorite horses everywhere, and,
You can feel their excitement mounting too.

You can see the jockeys walking around,
Displaying proudly all their best colors and silks too.
They all seem to be,more than ready for this race,
While taking last notes here and there to make things okay today.

Well,this wonderful race is about to start any moment now.
The horses are being prepared in every way,and that's true,
As they're all looking their very best from head to hoofs,
The winner will receive a very beautiful cup and great honors,too.

So many bets that are at stake here for so many today,
People are very excited, rushing all over the place to,
As the horses and their jockeys are getting ready now,
The jockeys are looking so proud atop the horses they'll ride, too.

The horses and jockeys are now set for this much awaited race, 
They're all  in line and in their position to start anytime to,
But it will take a long time for sure for this race to be over,
But already it looks like "Black  Beauty" is about to make history today.

Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000


Poem Details | by Laura Breidenthal |
Categories: adventure, best friend, cat, crazy, cute love, friendship, funny,

Staircase Race

March 21, 2015

you shan't win
not this day my furry friend
watch me run

head start - yeah!
close to end he leaps down ledge
watch him fly

staircase race 
wins and rubs it in my face
prissy proud prance

Poem Details | by Tahnee Frtiz |
Categories: car, love, race,

A Man and His Car

Once upon a time
In a land not so far
Lived a lead footed man
Alone with his car.

He longed to go fast
Speed flawlessly down the track
So he looked for a car
A Mustang in fact.

It was love at first sight
From bumper to bumper
He adored her sleek look
And got rid of his clunker.

The metallic silver hue
How she sparkles in the light
Those amazing blue headlamps
Just look killer at night.

The windows tinted dark
The car low to the ground
She’s sure to turn heads
While driving around.

She was built to go fast
She was built to go far
Not sit in some garage
Like an old man’s show car.

He steps on the gas
The engine begins to roar
The turbo whistles loud
As the rpms soar.

The excitement is great
His heart beats fast in his chest
Shifting through gears
This time will be his best.

He speeds by his opponent
The world goes by in a blur
To the young man
Winning is the best to occur.

He’ll be noted as great
By friends and other men
Then get back in the staging lane
To do it over again.

Poem Details | by Akua Lore Zaan |
Categories: africa, black african american, black love, desire, education, identity, inspirational, prejudice, race, racism, slavery, uplifting,

Hidden Figures

I am black and I say to kindred flames...
Never assert nor cry "things are the same".

It is the height of dishonor to our fathers,
Our hidden figures of the past, and our martyrs.

We no longer must hideNo need for underground trains.
Do not keep blaming injusticeIt's a crooked cane.

Wait for the hand of the oppressor? That is madness!
Why would the oppressed ask the slave owner for access?

Let's take it upon our lettered selves to advance.
So, do not say "things are the same"Now is our chance!

If one hidden figure can succeed, there are no excuses.
If one hidden figure has engineered, where are the nooses?

It is a disgrace to our history to assert "things are the same".
It is a dishonor to our hidden figures...a noose and a chain.

Poem Details | by julie clark |
Categories: father, feelings, love, race, religious,

Rest in Jesus

Rest in my loving Jesus arms
Rest in him he will make no demands 
Feel his arms securely around you
Giving you strength and peace anew

See in his eyes a love that is true
Feel his cleansing, making you new
Grow into love and joy untold
And see his purpose for you unfold

He loves the young ones and the old
His love alone more precious than gold
So in his arms and feel the peace
That comes from a love that knows no bounds

Rest in his arms and always be safe
Rest in his arms and you will win the race
Rest in his arms, have a smile on your face
And feel the warmth of his heavenly place

Poem Details | by Caroline Cécile Delacroix |
Categories: inspirational, love, music, uplifting

The Love Race

The Love Race

A place
Where all my cares
Seem to fly out the door  
Because I can raise my voice there
My grace.

In praise
Voices blend in
Like a choral dance
Upon keys and strings upholding 
God's grace.

Heart rate
Quickened by joy
Mirrored in percussion
Encircling all present as one
Love race.

By CarolineCécile
Copyright © 05/31/10

Poem Details | by Gaurav Sharma |
Categories: loneliness, lonely, lost love, love, miss you, missing you, race, rap, religion, rights, rude,



Poem Details | by Brad Nicolas |
Categories: death, love, morning, poetry, race, racism,

Blood On The Leaves

Blood on the Leaves

It makes me sad
To think, then mad
To be associated with them,
only by color.
You play us like they judged that man.
The blood on the leaves;
Warm and full of life.
Don’t put that on me, Ricky Bobby.

We lost someone today.
Sad is all this is,
Pushing us 100 years in the past.
I can’t imagine that town’s shame.

Poem Details | by Charles Melody Lightning Ink |
Categories: dedication, forgiveness, friendship, happiness, hope, love, passion, peace, religion, me, me,


Another day, meditating
On ways to please you
On qualities to make me true
That you and i be stuck as glue
Oh! Lord in you i won't be blue
You are my being, without you i can't be
And when i look up, only you i see 
MY love for you is taller than a tree
Thinking of my hope in you gives me glee
Outside your camp, depression sting me like a bee
Looking unto you makes the devil flee
Because am in you,am now so free.
You are my base and the defender of my case
I'll keep on searching, more of you I'll trace
As i remain loyal to, and protected by your grace
Thank you JESUS, you're the strength of my race.

EvangCharles Melody
  (Lightning Ink).

Poem Details | by Keith Baucum |
Categories: black african american, conflict, corruption, friendship, love, race,

GREEN Chapter Two

A short while later the most attractive man 
she had ever seen entered
the bank Lost in his good looks Kenya 
had to find the words "May I help
you?"  He introduced himself " Yes my 
name is Malik Maxwell Williams.
I would like to open an account" "Mr.
Williams please follow me to my
office" Malik was in Kenya's office for 
twenty minutes before making his
departure Kenya made it up in her mind 
that she would get to know Malik 
on a personal level Kenya lived a rather 
dull life unto the point she decided 
to get involved with Malik Kenya was a 
plain looking black woman in her 
30's who never had any real luck with 
men The next day was Saturday so
it was Kenya's day off She spent most of 
her time paying bills and shopping.
She pulled into the Emerald Lady 
parking lot got out 
of her 2003
BMW and went inside Looking for 
something to make Malik notice her.
Kenya picked out a low cut v-neck red 
top, a short black skirt that flattered
her figure, and black knee high boots 
Kenya paid $236 for the attention of a 
I must be crazy thought Kenya as she 
handed the cashier the money Walking
back through the Emerald Lady parking lot 
Kenya bumped into Nubia her one and only
Written by Keith Edward Baucum aka Red
Seven aka The Green Poet
aka The Brown Philosopher

Poem Details | by Gerald Dillenbeck |
Categories: community, health, history, integrity, love, race, racism,

Not Your Negro

Last night I was mesmerized
by James Baldwin
in a documentary
"I Am Not Your Negro"
in which Baldwin reflects on
Medger, Malcolm, and Martin
who were shot in that order
within six years of each other,
all under age forty,
by guns newer nationalistic leaders of the NRA
would most likely celebrate
for sale and use to hate,
for sins of uppity last-class birth.

One picture stands out
among several shocking views.
A Birmingham Alabama protest placard

Both Marx and Engels
would have been surprised to read this,
but perhaps such an obvious display of ignorance
merits no alternative definition,
or even grammar,
having more to do with economics
than monoculturing misuse of supremacist politics.

So allow me
this one much belated try.

Communism is an evolutionary theory
of economic development
assuming competition between those who own
and those who do not
will inevitably lead
to falling aristocracies of hoarded wealth,
regardless of race, color, creed,
gender preference,
whether you vote blue,
or red,
or green,
much less black and white not together.

is a cooperative evolutionary experience
in which co-investment between and among co-owners
leads to optimal quality improvement
of healthy wealth outcomes,
regardless of race,
creolizing mutually enculturing
as above.

Democratic whole Earth system healthy politics,
both sacred and secular varieties,
support communitarian wealthy co-investing economics,
and vice versa.

neither competitive totalitarian communism
nor cooperative subsidiary ownership
and responsibility
and authority of communitarians
is defined by racial integration,
or libertarianism either, for that possibly unrelated matter,
although these might agree
that continuing freedoms for segregation
and its fossilizing maintenance
prolongs and builds higher walls
between those who have most,
those who have nothing,
and those who worry about joining the latter
by waving placard ignorance
for the former,
too busy hoarding their money
within gated communities
to actually show up,
while quietly financing
our most avid absence of integrity supporters.

Enforcing segregation of races
works about as well as
forced separation of food-chain species,
where eventually everybody starves separately
rather than feeding off
and on
each other
more like an actually healthy community.

Poem Details | by Ivor Davies |
Categories: child, discrimination, family, love, parents, race, prejudice,

Love Story

With heritage of dragon lore,
and hills and valleys shore to shore.
From the land of leeks and daffs,
there came a lass born of a Taff.

Roman walls built strong and bold,
surround a fortress very old.
From English city of great fame,
came a lad with a Welsh name.

This girl named Joan had lived to love
the Celtic ways as all Welsh should.
Now Ivor born of English greed,
had lived his life at lightning speed.

But race and culture cannot tame,
love’s strong flame in any game.
So when this lass and lad did meet,
they swept each other off their feet.

So English mad and Welsh so wild
came together and bore child.
A girl as beautiful as night,
with mother's spirit, father’s fight.

Before their daughter was quite one,
our couple then produced a son.
A lively lad who screamed for fun,
his mum and dad, rolled into one.

Through history, it seemed a must,
to save each race from others lust.
But now our pair combined as one,
their cultural change had just begun.

As their two children grew to teen,
two more children, our pair wean.
Not by birth, they came their way,
but sheltered from their darkest day.

An Arab boy of noble blood,
who never knew his mother’s love.
The other dark with curly hair,
who carried genes from everywhere.

So now, as family of mixed race,
they show the world a better face.
It isn’t colour, race, or creed,
that binds together mankind's seed.

So shed your mindless prejudice, 
for in it you will find no bliss.
And look beneath what you see there,
your eyes will just find skin and hair.

The truth's much deeper than you see,
unless within your mind you're free.
All mankind came from the 'whole',
so ‘feel’ their presence with your soul.

Now Ivor, Joan, and their family,
accept each other and are free.
It matters not from where you came,
beneath the skin we’re all the same.

So try and open up your heart,
and let your inner fears depart.
Your culture then may join Mankind,
now that’s a gift, for you to find.

Ivor G Davies

Poem Details | by Brian Stoaks |
Categories: love,

Race to the Pillow

                                               “Race to the Pillow”

Thoughts of love seem to secure my heart in webs of roses pedals and candy hearts
The feeling of love my hide from my heart but the thoughts of love keep my eyes open 
Fluttering flip flops in thy stomach may keep their distance but her smile has me smiling
If only in a dream of unselfish images of the angel’s laughter I have yet to meet

When my eyes close out the brightness of yesterday I see the most beautiful sight in all the world
The woman who carries my once broken and lonely heart in her tender hands no longer cracked
With a smile only the angels of God could ever create I can see my forever for the first time
To dream a little dream that creates such hope for tomorrow and beyond yesterday’s sadness

This journey of nightly dreams slowly revealing the face of my future 
Dreaming will finally succumb to reality when the angels have built her just for me
She will not be perfect for anyone but me with her loving arms around me in warmth
Let love become the love I no longer have to close my eyes for but keep open to cherish daily

Until the day my love has engaged with myself in an embrace of soul shattering happiness
Until I can feel her lips whispering upon my lips I love you 
Until the dreams are shattered like the rock that holds my diamond that keeps it safe
I will race to the pillow and return to where love is always waiting for me

Poem Details | by Gerald Dillenbeck |
Categories: allegory, earth, family, health, humor, love, race,

Burly Bear Follows Buzzing Bee

Honey Bear,
I would like to say goodbye
and would appreciate your reply.

Where are you going?

I am going to sing farewell
before my minute hand wears out.

yet I hoped you might first learn
to dance hello.

Yes, so I too presumed,
yet in epiphanies of dawn’s delight
dancing hello toward Earth’s light
follows learning to sing night’s lullaby
enduring dusk's darkening evaporation
of bright transparent regeneration.

I would like to sing farewell
not sure whether we will ever find time
for another healthy hello,
good mourning death’s surprising pass
right through our daily hello-goodbye liturgies
of BusinessAsUsual love.

Just once before either of us further dies
and lies within Earth's sacred skin,
I would like us to learn to sing farewell
to our dusky love’s evaporating celebration,
multicolored disincarnation,
wildflower struggling together dissonance
within Earth's MultiTribal Solidarity.

With this pearl of our shared memory
how much brighter next time’s dawn.

Better than whole wheat pancakes
with strawberries
and butter
and maple syrup springs
of wildflower bee songs?

Breaking night time’s fast 
with love’s echoing farewell lullaby
warming daylight’s first embryonic memory,
spreading farewell liturgies
like warm apple butter
throughout love’s remembering twilight day.

You would have your farewell pearl
with breakfast too.

I would sing farewell
not knowing we will have another day
to dance our hellos of gratitude
for love syrup warmly given
transforming sacred memories
of EarthTribe’s struggling mutual light within,
dancing and singing tender humored
and raving raven memories
fading back to our first eyes greeting.

You were redhead magnificent
and bright as nuclear light,
yet not sure you had enough to share
with all my dark bear ways.

And you still growl your raw reviews
about light’s honey lacking as yours and ours
and cubs who have never learned to dance
a dignified hello
much less sing a well-timed farewell lullaby,
softly fading into some other household’s light
of their own healthy making.

Stars have never sung the same
since they first twinkled through your RedLight hungry eyes.

Moon heart glows full color harmonics
to know your quiet delight,
teasing might,
sharing your monopoly of wild investments
in GrandMothers’ flowing afrocultured light.
Too seldom has sailed
our full octave light and dualdark racing pilgrimage
through transgenerational childhood brights and fights,
embracing dawns,
effacing dawns together.

Honey Bee,
I love to sing farewell struggling harmony
while slow dancing our mutually gratuitous hello-farewell,
folding and unfolding eco-memory flying fling 
YangBear/YinBee soul-dancing,
Tipping PolyPoints of Light/DualDark MindBody.

Poem Details | by Jean-Pierre Gregoire |
Categories: girlfriend-boyfriend, imagination, inspirational, love, passion, romance, uplifting, visionaryme, sweet, me, sweet,

You Race Though My Veins

you race though my veins
like a manic fire truck
my eyes smodering from the engine
of your torrid passion
fire hoses squirting out my skin
let me in sweet darlin'
fling the ladder from your pounding heart
climb into my vacant mind
strip me naked and fling me
into your bubbling inferno
your liquid lava seething
every sweet cell breathing me in
as I slowly rise,
and dive into your
silky undulations 
microscopic penetrations
wrap yourself around me
and catapult me deep 
into your long forgotten sleep
let me in sweet darlin'
envelop me completely
my senses scintillating
corpuscles palpitating
drown me with your magic potion
breathe me like a dragon
soak me with your moist emotion
and lift my heart
into the tranquil eye 
of your whirling swirling hurricane
let me in sweet darlin'

Poem Details | by Sam Jameson |
Categories: anger, conflict, love, people, race, religion, society,

Why Not

Ask me why not. It is all that I see, Selfies and likes, Our society. Please ask me why not. We fight and we moan, Always offended, Just to pick a bone. Then ask me why not. So hard to handle, All the obsession, With racial scandal. So ask me why not. Many choose to pray, Yet we never keep, Our hatred at bay. But ask me why not. We just can't decide, Our moral compass, Now a lost guide. Just ask me why not. Because if you do, White is for peace, We're red, yellow, blue. Won't ask me why not? Fine, I'll say it then, We need to love all, Like color blind men January 12, 2016

Poem Details | by Gerald Dillenbeck |
Categories: culture, earth, health, love, political, race, trust,

Portraits of Racial Politics

“It is the custom of scholars when addressing behavior and culture to speak variously of anthropological explanations, psychological explanations, biological explanations, and other explanations appropriate to the perspectives of individual disciplinesI have argued that there is intrinsically only one class of explanationIt traverses the scales of space, time, and complexity to unite the disparate facts of the disciplines by consilience, the perception of a seamless web of cause and effect.”   Edward OWilson, Consilience: The unity of knowledge

How could interdependent politics,
studying effective/ineffective power in relationships and transactions,
in communication’s productive/unproductive exchanges,
in communion’s transubstantiations,
be an intelligently humane science
without also growing art-forms of imaginative expression?
evolving culture’s powerful articulations,
how best to constitute, contract, and behave together
toward daily through global social economic justice.

Political effectiveness is about control,
resources and rhythms of normative creation
favoring multicultural inclusiveness,
democracy of conjoining powers
to enrich future generations of Earth’s healthy prosperity.

Political relationships,
economic transactions,
ultimately support radically regenerate health trends.

The political evolutions of well-formed and reliably executed democracy
have become Favorite Sons of political scientists,
just as totalitarian monopolies of invested power
have become the scientist’s Straw Man for sociopathology
opposing mature polypathic political-economic powers
to effectively advocate socially therapeutic outcomes.

With this same normative assumption of political health science,
we evolve toward ever more inclusive
and therefore hopeful and healthy emergence
of cooperatively organized empathic trust
between political-economic cultural behaviorists.

The politics of healthy regenerative behaviors
unveil the arts and sciences of empathic trust
as dipolar contrasted to distrustful mutual immunity,
antipathy between individuals,
competing histories.

We emerge with a positively deviant cooperative political/economic culture
struggling against older pre-millennial WinLose Gaming assumptions
about this business of not only self-governing
but also WeThePeople governing
throughout an overpopulating Earth,
currently drawing too much energy to sustain a healthy home
for grandkids
and their extended genetic families
in the animal and plant ribonucleic kingdoms.

In Empathy and Democracy Michael EMorrell critiques 
“Agonistic theories…
because they tend to reify conflict to the detriment of possible cooperation and do not adequately theorize why we should expect people to remain [loyal] adversaries rather than become enemies.” (pp194-5)

What is this difference between a political adversary and an enemy
if not continued respect for co-empathic possibilities for mutual trust
in more cooperative political outcomes
through a “consilience” of mutual subsidiarity.
We can learn to become grateful for adversaries
to produce a more optimally discerned outcome.
On the other hand,
if we succumb to monocultural supremacist political thinking 
as always and everywhere competitive WinLose strategics,
then our political choice of enemies for all “loser” roles and rules
precludes full maturation of a healthy cooperative democracy
for every economic body,
every political mind.

Shayla CNunnally
uses the language of trust and mistrust and distrust
to mine U.Sracial politics
(Trust in Black America: Race, discrimination, and politics).
Perhaps trust refers to the cognitive syllogism side of empathic feelings,
whether positive or negative,
as absence of trust appears
if and only if absence of empathy.
They co-arise nondually, to borrow from Buddhist Philosophy,
as thoughts have feelings attached,
and feelings manifest in thoughts, language of consciousness.

How might we pursue the art and science of politically empathic trust
given the historical predator v prey brand of slavery,
the hunting and gathering of dark-skinned people
supported by a Winners v Losers evolutionary enculturation history?

Cyrus Ernesto Zirakzadeh
(Social Movements in Politics: A comparative study, expanded edition)
rests political Identity-Formation Theory 
“on a simple assumption:
people’s actions are structured by deeply held beliefs.” (p240)
Perhaps nondual trust/beliefs with empathic/mutual feelings.

A relatively autonomous “non-elite” popular culture
drives political-economic participants
who become immersed in a movement culture.
A non-elite political-economic subculture
might be expected to also aspire to fulfill itself
as a movement culture,
from non-elite to co-elite,
more radically,
a cooperative co-arising aspiration that thrills
and virally spreads
by co-opting elitist dissenters into active empathic-trust.

The cooperative optimization of future generations’ health and safety
is an ancient political-economic externally dialectical agenda,
apparently supported by regenerative ecosystemic evolving processes
across most, if not all,
living poli-economic systems.

In both Eastern and Western wisdom traditions
we find the feeling/belief,
that the political and economic systems of a society
are best judged by how well they govern themselves for those most vulnerable,
including the “non-elites” of this generation
but also children,
our future as global residents of Earth.

A cooperative turn to a level of multicultural and polypathic empathy-trust
seems to inevitably expand our Golden Rule
to explicitly include all life forms living,
not yet living,
and no longer living.

Here lies our cooperative political-economic dual destiny of discernment,
as “elites” actively listen to those speaking of non-elite empathic trust
that we are each predator/prey hybrids of mutual subsidiarity
evolving movements toward consilience of love
emerging Earth’s health-optimizing future.

Poem Details | by Chirayu Sharma |
Categories: adventure, inspiration, life, love, poems, race, youth,

Life is a Race

#Life #Success #poetry #Race #Poetry.Life is a race..

these race lanes are ours, these roads are ours

Who shall come in front of us 

the one who shall clash with us in the paths

they shall back off in fear..
Life is a race of talent..

Some hope to get around it,

In trying to be all over again Across path,

 Every night this past Wishes to walk..

 Fire with Fire from the sun Be performed our passion..

               Life is a race

                                 it never ends..

              Life is a race

                                 it ends with journey..

              Life is a race

                                 it begins with new path and new journeys......
                                       -  Chirayu??

Poem Details | by Gerald Dillenbeck |
Categories: anxiety, culture, fear, identity, love, political, race,

Riding a ColorLined Bus

I have typically had the experience
of riding comfortably
on a polycultural,
including multi-generational,
populated bus.

I also have memories
of stepping onto a subway
and not feeling I am welcome
by my fellow-alien riders.
And sometimes this goes OK,
and somewhere the line keeps going out dark
and darker
as I get whiter and 
more mutually parasitic,
like haunted and hunting bugs
exploring each other's piece of the pond,
sniffing fear and anger
about needs and eco-tribal identities,
or total defense against co-empathy.

I have walked into a Louisiana bus stop
with a brown-skinned friend 
to soon notice
each of us would have been safer
checking in without knowing each other
than we were checking out as multicultural friends.

I've been on a NYC train
with my brown-skinned sons
and felt like they were more welcome
than I,
and other Connecticut way more welcome than they would have been
without me,
profiled by angry women of color
aggressive with those cellphones 
aimed toward the police,
about my suspicious white man ways,
what business could I possibly have
with my own sons?

now that I think about it,
we often shared this question.
How could we possibly have anything to do with
or without each other?

Whatever it is and has been,
it is ours to do and not do,
others to watch kindly,
if possible,
or not watch
with the courtesy we are learning together,
to continue exploring some other polycultural way.

Poem Details | by Gerald Dillenbeck |
Categories: culture, humanity, love, music, political, race, racism,

Singing for Stevie's Wonder

I remember,
in the early 60s,
our thirty mile drive
from our historic family farm,
in all White rural Michigan,
not counting the Mexican migrant workers
which adults made a point of discounting,
on the first of several shopping trips to Thrifty Acres,
through vibrantly young all Black urban streets
of nearby Lansing.

Making Stevie Wonder and I,
him singing in all Black city churches
and me in all White rural and small village churches,
harmonic neighbors in my privately humming heart
yet never possible to publicly meet and greet
as this nation and this world were meant to sing
and dance our regenerations not apart.

I didn't know apartheid by default yet
but I do remember
seeing nearly black as ink skin for the very first time
on a smiling brown-eyed boy
on a chipped white painted bicycle without rims,
and longing to talk and listen with him
and laugh with him about the fresh green smell of freedom from training wheels,
freedom to create our own fast pedaling breeze
across our summer-hot black and white faces and arms,
and knowing that I would touch his dark warm skin
with loving wonder
about what it could be like to become with him,
to grow together,
to smell and feel and fly our satisfying diverse integrity
on a tandem red in-your-face bike,
bright shining all the way back
from Black-streets Lansing
through little White Woodland,
spreading across all Black with White Capital Cities
on out to woodland farmers,
to peddle fly while singing our glad hosanna wonders.

As I reweave
this first drive by encounter with racial diversity
and humane ecstatic curiosity,
I imagine asking Mom to stop,
pull our metallic gold Ford over
so I could ask his thick black-framed glasses name,
which would be Stevie,
and take his hand
to walk his bike back to his home and family
where we would live together
happily and most prosperously ever after.

This was my moment,
too quickly passed,
to know passion's love at first sight,
these sublime sounds and dark satin skin smells
of Stevie's Wonder.

Poem Details | by April Mae |
Categories: art, confusion, depression, fear, forgiveness, friendship, girlfriend-boyfriend, growing up, happiness, hope, life, loss, love, house, me, heart, heart, house, me, race, time,

Life All At Once

Too young to remember , remembering is all I can do , stories told , may different , not never knowing the truth , a scar for life , not knowing the story behind it all , feeling like a leap and a frog , alone always and forever , standing strong on my own tow feet with no support , about this time I still have tears in my eyes, hurting and weeping from all the pain thats inside, feeling abandoned at a young age, my heart filled with hurt and emotion , like a boat on a ocean , screams and fights , something that I didn't like , it never excites me , it just makes me wanna go far way , running way all the time was getting old and leaving me out in the cold with no place to go , house to house , different rules , different place , different race and different paceIve been through hell and back again7:00 , lying on the floor , stomach growling , tears falling , left alone , hurting inside , just about to cry , flooding my face , with a salty taste , forgetting my race , forgetting my struggles , going blank with no trace , comes to comfort me , I pull away , with a lot of force , not wanting to be loved by someone who hurts me the most , running away thinking its a better place more hurt occurs , not giving no one a chance , to dance in my present , but finally I give in to something special to me , he who sees the best in me , he who takes me for myself , he who loves me more than ill ever know, he that stunts but deep down he's feelings truly shows , he that I love with all my heart , he that I don't want to leave , he is something like my everything , he is so much like me , he you wouldn't understand , he is my man , I could keep going on and on forever but Ill just end it here this time....

Poem Details | by Gerald Dillenbeck |
Categories: culture, love, music, race, sensual, society, spiritual,

For Spacious Time

I need some natural,
spacious kinda time.
Where is nature in this time,
my time,
our time?

Perhaps nature is to time
as solid forms are to functional creation,
as solidarity is to creativity,
as Yang is to Yin,
as Full-Blown Climaxing polycultural kinda natural jazzy space
enters permacultural swingin' revolutionary time,
bangin' and beatin' our hearts to ping.

Where was I, again?
Well, never mind,
you can't go home again
in this polycultural space within permaculturing time.

Shout out to your sisters and your brothers
celebrating their multicultural Universalist space
balancing their Right-brain Co-Synergetic
Unitarian lusty kinda co-operative rhyming time.

Dubois soul sings Beloved Community
rhymes with Positive Integrity,
opposed by that nasty one "mendacity,"
a negative double-binding not yet not true,
our passive-aggressive cultural dissonance,
lack of cooperative resonance,
coupled with abject insolence,
when faced with Beloved Integrity
growing transgressively regenerative
revolutions of space in well-timed 
full-racing DNA prime.



Dubois begat integrity
as Nazareth, that nada nest,
begat love,
as Bucky begat synergy,
as Atlee begat co-intelligence,
as Permaculturally natural eco-logical designs and long-term plants
begat RNA's ubiquitous wisdom.


If justice is what love looks like in public
and tenderness is what love looks like in private,
I'd say we're lookin better on the privates of our face
than on the public beaten side of our race
through space
to trace
this RNA place
where eco-justice was most originally defined.

How much more RNA do you really think there could be
in white skin than in black?
And would you not say that RNA is our most omnipotent,
most omnipresent,
most ubiquitous space and time 
of intelligently regenerative design?

Yeah, I'm wid you,
I ain't neve' heard a no more DNA in The Dominant Left-Brained Man!
I jus' a dumb cooperative minded gay guy
who thinks you're playin' me,
and my playin' days is over!

DrWest reminds,
transgenerational catastrophe is to reissuing problems
as torrential flooding is to dust in my cognitive dissonance eyes.
A chronically possessive culture
breeds a catastrophically dispossessive economy.
A competitive economy 
breeds a rabid lack of eco-logic.
Cancer cells always consider themselves chronic;
never would think of ourselves as catastrophic,
because we're just so in love with that Positive Psychology
face in our cultural mirror.

The darker subconscious will have her intuitional revolution day
as she does every night we dream of polycultures
and nightmare with co-operative strength
against monocultural monotheistic monopolistic monochromatic 
monomial universalism.
That's our Black Hole womb from which our comprehensive consciousness evolved
enlightenment and light, 
and bright, 
and transparency,
as Father Time's Left Deductive 
gets it on with Mother Space's Right Inductive,

Discerning justice, integrity, synergy, loving spaces
for here-and-now time,
would best redeem this transparent moment
as co-investment for our co-operative future Time.
Balancing discernment is like learning to ride a bike,
once you get the knack of positive-deductive-left
greets negative co-inductive (double-bind knot,
or not) right,
with self-optimizing cooperative environmental momentum,
sufficient to sustain nature's well-tempered life,
the rest is just peddling,
day in and night out,
eventually decomposing dismount
into further co-prehensile consciousness of death reborn...

"naturally, organic, spacious kinda' time
rollin and weavin our narrative songs
sung in RNA's pre-digital key of UCAG...
swingin' as we"

why does breathing feel like floating and swimming inside?

and what was that thing called phantom limbs of consciousness?

Sing that song,
all day long!

Ooooh yeah!
Look at our cooperative nature
in this most polyculturing time.

I feel sublime.

Oh yeah,
thump to my thump,

Spacious skies.
Golden waves of yummy grain.
Ultra-violet mountain range of consciousness,
Earth's permaculturally fruitful plain.
Universe's co-operatively jazzy face.

Poem Details | by daniel sainz |
Categories: faith, inspirational, love, passion, peace, religion, uplifting, visionaryrace,

Race for Grace

Race for Grace, tighten your lace
Heaven is the place, its always been the case
Stare in space, wonder where is this place
Can't win with a 9 and an ace, go all the way
So seek HIM and pray, so when is the day
We go unto Grace, in my heart HE is 1st place
So do you still wonder how to win, the Race for Grace
You are puzzled, or in a maze
But i found, the only 1 to arose from a grave
It is we HE saved, so do you see
We all can win, The Race for Grace

Poem Details | by Richard Moriarty |
Categories: lovesound, water, love, race, sound, water,

Paradise not Lost

Surrounded by tropical treasures
large plumed birds called in 
strange and beautiful ways
only to be answered from another 
a long way away,
flowers with bright petals provided
a blanket of color with a dazzling array.

Cascading water forms a foaming white tower
falling, falling down a long wet slide
broke the calm of an otherwise peaceful day.
Breathtaking in speed and power the race of the
falling water deafening to the ears causes
the heart to race with its power.
Green footprints form where the falls left their trail
a lasting story of a never ending tale.

Two hearts intertwined in a paradise
far away from the noise of another land
Lost in love like no other love
two souls joined as one on a tropical sand.

With passions meeting as two deeply in love
a kiss - a touch - an embrace to last
away from the life so far past
lost in love, like no other love could be.

Pulled to the sound of the never ending fall
high above the turbulent pool beneath
the two lovers watched the waters falling
their hearts racing with the rush of the water.

Arm in arm they stepped into the rush
and down with the flow they went
falling with unbelievable speed and power
to meet the pool far beneath.

Deep into the pond they fell
searching for each others arms
at last touching their fingers
pulling each into the others arms.

Lips touching the others
deep and lasting the effect
as they reached for the light
that shown above them before they
lost their breathe.

Gasping with one last effort 
to reach that final breathe
a sound was heard in the distance..

..."Good morning America, its 6:00 a.m.
in the morning, and here is the news of 

Poem Details | by Dawn Crow |
Categories: love, day, hope, love, race, time,

I've Loved You From The Start

Like a race car in a derby,
time sure flies by fast.
I always treasure every second,
for who knows if it'll be my last.
From the very moment I was born,
I never knew what to expect.
I didn't know what else to do,
but to live from one day to the next.
But from the moment I laid eyes on you,
I knew what was in store;
my soon to be companion,
who was knocking at my door.
Our love gets stronger everyday,
as time passes us on by.
And the more it soars by faster,
the more farther our love will fly.
My love for you is surely pure,
so have no thoughts of doubt.
For all of your love and kindness,
I surely couldn't live without.
Your heart's all I need,
to assure I have your love.
For love's a priceless gift,
sent from our good Lord from up above.
We have our good days and our bad,
and our ups and maybe downs.
But one thing rest assured,
is that my heart holds not a frown.
We must give it all we got,
and make it through the thick and thin.
Get through the rough and toughest days,
until we finally reach the end.
Although time may fly by fast,
there's no race to the end.
Because every moment that passes by,
our love will always win.
My life wouldn't had been complete,
if it hadn't been for you.
Of all the dreams I've ever had,
you're my dream come true.
What pursuades me to strive ahead
and to never strive behind,
is knowing you're right by my side,
on any day at any time.
From the starting line to the finish,
I hope we don't depart.
I hope we both finish together,
for I've loved you from the start.

Poem Details | by Stephanie Weeks |
Categories: love,

'I Love You' Race

I imagine myself, in your invisible embrace,
I want to win this "I love you" race.

Poem Details | by Gerald Dillenbeck |
Categories: humor, love, nature, race,

Earth Tune

I love our richtimes
moments stolen from starched yesterdays,
we live warm steam scentimes
through future's dualdark crime.

I miss our deep earthtones
our space for free reign
before we missed race rhymes
shouting thin through bland bones.

I know our lovetones
our place for free form
we fly empathic spacetime
where Earth's reasons have rich rhymes.

I love your vast humor,
co-passion with fools,
your red flows rich manna
free grow golden life rules.

We live our fast humor
compassion's love fool.
We love co-paced echoes,
co-rise life's kind cruel.

Poem Details | by Brandlynn Young |
Categories: death, introspection, loss, lost love, places, sad, sea, race,

Yonder Setting Sun

I have taken my final arrow,
My race has now been run
I’ll depart from here and go in peace
Into yonder setting sun

I will climb aboard the ship of death 
And cross the chilling tide
I will go to yonder setting sun
As on this ship I will ride

I will not fear what lies ahead,
Or what I cannot tell
I’ll stand upon the bough and wave
To this life farewell

I will now close my eyes in death,
Weary from the race I’ve run
As upon the bough of death’s ship I will ride
To yonder setting sun

Poem Details | by Kathleen Callaway |
Categories: animal, cat, dog, food, happy, house, love,

Master Cat Race Rules Of Living

Attention seeking gets rewarded so use anything that works.
Baby humans can be dangerous, especially for tails, ears and whiskers, so watch out!
Cats are masters and rule, everyone else follows, period!
Dogs are great for teasing, blaming, stealing good food from and the lowest species, period!
Eating well is an art so snub dry food and play sickly to get better quality.
Furniture is wonderful for climbing, attacking, napping and removing hair all over.
Going to the vet is NOT  fun so PROTEST VIGOROUSLY!
Human hands are designed for petting, rubbing, carrying, and scratching cats
Jumping from various heights without knocking stuff down is a talent, but if something breaks find the nearest human and love them to death!
Keep claws sharp by scratching a variety of materials, furniture, walls, and floor coverings
Leave gifts for humans to help them feel loved-like dead animals; prove amazing hunting skills and keep them in line
Messy meals and litter boxes aren't allowed but if there's a dog around and something else happens, use the scapegoat ploy(with innocent look thrown in).
Napping 80% of each day is essential for physical and mental health so don't skimp.
Owning humans is an important responsibility; play, snuggle, entertain, keep happy but avoid hissing off at them!
Purring while snuggled and gazing up at humans will delight and make them easier to control but be careful one doesn't become too attached and lose control
Quiet meows, a sad look, waving a paw while one is on their back playing helpless makes upset humans happier
Remember, don't be nasty for life can get MUCH SHORTER.
Staring out windows while planning on ruling Earth or torturing lesser species is awesome; so practice!
Tongue drooling or hanging out is for dogs or dumb felines; awesome cats tuck it in.
Until further notice: all humans from youngest to oldest, need training to serve the Master Cat race.
Viciousness is forbidden; cats acting so get ranked lower than a puppy...forever.
When choosing napping spots remember, size IS important; where tiniest or biggest humans sleeps IS the perfect place.
Xanthouse is just one color cats appreciate so experiment redecorating the home while exploring.
Yikes, if litter boxes fill up it means new pooping piles must be left elsewhere like planters, closets and bedrooms.
Zits, bug bites, other sores, or just plain dirt- humans lack an adequate tongue and need professional tongue licking help!