Love Poems About Slavery or Slavery Love Poems

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

Poem Details | by Newton Ranaweera |
Categories: love, lust, slavery, women,

What am I if not a slave

What am I if not a slave?
I cook, clean and mourn;
I wash, sweep and weep
from dawn to fall of night.

I do nothing but cooking;
I cook all day,
three times a day,
from dawn to fall of night.

What are you if not a master?
You eat, teach and cheat;
you write, drink and sleep
from dawn to fall of night.

For three long decades,
I’ve cleaned your dishes:
empty, dirty dishes
from dawn to fall of night

What’s marriage if not serfdom?
You are my master;
I am merely a slave.
You do your part; I mine.

From dawn to fall of night
and back to break of day.

Poem Details | by Cheryl Glans |
Categories: life, love, slavery, spiritual, truth,

Meditate like life

Wake ’n bake
Wake and meditate
Meditate like Buddha
Meditate your mind
Mind over matter
Mind is infinite
Infinite dreams
Infinite power
Power to heal 
Power to see
See beyond
See the truth
Truth be told 
Truth within
Within my heart
Within my soul
Soul spark
Soul searching
Searching for me
Searching to be free
Free to be me
Free mental slavery
Slavery beyond color
Slavery disguised 
Disguised as a job
Disguised as money
Money piece of paper
Money the illusion
Illusion we live in
Illusion called life
Life after life
Life is just a game
Game evil vsgood
Game to play
Play like child
Play to learn
Learn to share
Learn to care
Care about nature
Care about love
Love yourself
Love art
Art of abundance 
Art of nothingness
Nothingness is life
Life is a dream
Life is love

Poem Details | by Zeki Majed |
Categories: abuse, allah, anger, beautiful, beauty, creation, cry, dark, death, evil, freedom, god, how i feel, i love you, slavery, smile, society, violence, war,

Oh Syria

Reality is lost and I fear…
That someday, somewhere so near…
I will fall amongst the people so dear…
I fear…that I’ll just be another one…
Another one lost…

I wonder what the cost of my life is
not to get political…
But I want to know what the cost of my life is
Is it money, is it land?
I do not own any of them, I’m just a simple man

I remember, when I ran across your land…
I remember when I kissed my grandmothers hands…
You ripped me away from her, from my home
You took me away from my heart, you took me away from my soul

I feel helpless, I feel low
It’s hard to play along when I know, I have no role
I have become a slave.
After all the love I gave.

When I look at my country, people I want to save
When I look around me, people I wish to change
It seems like a hard thing to do…
When the world around is bigger than you

To the fools who dare murder in his name
When God gave us life…
He warned us, only he can take our lives…

Oh Syria, my home
Oh Syria, my all
Oh Syria, what did they hurt you for?
I am Proud to be your son…

Poem Details | by humble b |
Categories: allegory, black african american, christian, confusion, death, depression, education, faith, family, fear, children, freedom, history, inspirational, introspection, life, love, music, nature, pain, peace, people, philosophy, rights, sad, slam, slavery, social, stress, success, tribute, uplifting, urban, visionary, war,

Home of the Slaves

Land of the free
Home of the slaves
The blood, sweat and tears of my ancestors resonate
Amongst the soil where they were slain
I’m hearing their struggle
I’m feeling their pain
I can’t imagine being forced to part from my family
All for massa’s gain
So I pay homage to those who promoted change

People like every slave who tried to escape
Nat Turner, Ms Carlotta, Harriet Tubman
And the safe houses who were in accord
And peg leg Joe with his song
Follow the drinking gourd.

People like, the disregarded - those thrown overboard
And who was dismissed and defamed
The ones who were stripped of their soul, their pride, their names

The list could go on  
The full will never be told
So I pay homage to others who were bold
Like John Brown, The Freedom Riders, Sojourner Truth
Ida B Wells, Phyllis Wheatley, Maya Angelou, 
Langston Hughes and Charles Drew

George Washington Carver, Ruby Bridges
Booker T Washington and Mary McCleod Bethune
Charles Houston, Ralph Bunche, Fredrick Douglass
WEB Dubois, Paul Robeson, Ralph Abernathy
Benjamin Banneker, Marcus Garvey and Crispus Attucks
Who’s death by the way
Symbolized the American lie
You cant declare the rights of all men
While the people of African decent rights get denied
But still we rise

Thanks to Dr Martin Luther King, Malcolm X, 
The Black Panthers, the Buffalo Soldiers and Tuskegee Airmen
None who were showed any love
Yeah it’s an uphill battle, 
But obviously greatness can be done.

We can rise above this stigma 
That blacks are lazy and daunting
That our worth is null and void 
And in essence minus nothing
And of all the names mentioned 
And the greatness of their successes
No one has been able to erase the evil transgressions of a racist mind
And once you have experienced just a taste of it
It changes your perception of time
The oppression beats like the drum on the chariot
Of when it was finally time to escape to freedom
It's mine

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 Dee Dee |
Categories: life, passion, political, social, urbanwar, child, children, love, money, war,

A Slavery Mentality

Believe in what I am told or what I see 
This war is bitter and I aspire to be free 
Free from these shackles and discrimination 
Free from selective elimination 
We call our children mistakes so we can free ourselves of responsibility 
And our babies are dying in the streets while we accept no liability 
Governed by aggression it’s said that only the strong survive 
But instead of showing strength we only know hostility 
Creating a place where these demons thrive 
A Child’s innocence is used for selfish gain 
So mommy can get high and feel no pain 
A child that knows no love has no true perception of reality 
And the system has no love our children are lost on technicality 
Now your babies will have babies searching for the love that they lack 
They should have had love unconditional 
But instead they turn to crack 
Because their family has made it traditional 
There is nothing like the cries of a neglected child 
Mommy is too high to provide 
Taught too young to hold it all inside 
Poison their minds with dirty little secrets they are forced to hide 
Teach them to look for nothing and that’s all you will find 
Because that is all that’s left inside 
Fill their minds with worldly possessions 
Take what you can get despite the moral transgression 
Take Godout of our schools because money is the new respect 
Craving only negative attention 
Because of the love they now reject 
First born to poverty and aware before their time 
Unable to provide life’s necessities 
They are pushed towards drug sales and crime 
Society will blame this transgression on lack of affection 
But really they are affected by lack of direction 
No money to feed the hungry and poor 
Our inspiration is music, TV, drugs, guns and war 
Poor because they have been dominated and oppressed 
Push us too regress 
Give to those who already have by taking from those who have less 
The only way to survive is to murder, hustle and deceive 
There is a better way of life 
But not a better way to make them believe 
A better way to teach us to accept this fate is what they crave 
A better way to give us the mentality of a slave 
Their methods of birth control created to control the minority 
We are now the majority 
They are scared to death we have become the priority 
Our people born of whips and chains and still left unbroken 
Fed our children’s sorrows from which we choke 
there are still too many truths left unspoken

Poem Details | by Marilyn Stevens |
Categories: betrayal, christian, god, hate, religious, sad love, slavery,

God Save Me

Love Love Love
That’s what they
Gave to me,
So Why Why Why
Do I live in Slavery

Hate Hate Hate
Always knocking 
At my door
Where life or death
Depends on the floor

Perception changed
In the blinking 
Of an eye
Now all I can do
Is sit here and cry

I cry for lost love
I cry with no hope
And yet somehow
I will always,
Always cope.

Because I am a Christian
I’m tortured everyday
Someone decided 
To take my life away

They saw a chance to profit
From all that I have done
I pay for my confinement
And am the lonely one.

I hope that one day
The real truth will be known
Who I am and what I am
In blood flesh and bone

Until that day cometh
Pray God stay with me
Then I’ll survive until the day
The real me though dost see


Poem Details | by Gerald Dillenbeck |
Categories: body, culture, dream, earth, love, psychological, slavery,

I Am Not His Property

I wake up with a great startle.

My Obama EarthTribe CoOperative WinWin GlobalVillage Dream
was merely my hibernation.
I dreamed we share richly valued properties from healthy-wealthy African Elders,
but awake, once again,
only to painfully remember
I am now merely His disinvested property.

I have become enslaved by His addictions to LeftBrain supremacy,
entitlement to compete,
not for Win/Lose survival,
but, now, more ultimately and climatically,
for His self-aggrandizing scent
of Western White StraightMale entitlement,
naked privilege to commodify others,
to colonize us domesticated quasi-Loser Also Rans,
by raising barbed wire electric fences,
fueled with depleting oil and coal and formerly healthy soil and souls
and air and water,
now recombining toward His Perfect Storm,
His hate-producing Plantation.

Not everyone needs cotton,
but every mindbody can consume and reproduce hate.
Hate sells and commodifies potential African/EurAsian RightBrain Elder love-health properties, 
cooperatively owned and held and shared and transacted 
WinLeft-WinRight MindBodies.

I hate waking up this way,
mere property of Him,
when I can still remember my dream.
We share cooperative-integral-multicultural properties
of BlackElders,
nurturing brown-skinned Earth Mammas
singing rich contralto Exodus
and ReGenesis WinWin full-harmonic anthems.

We shall overcome,
with love of these same shared Elder properties,
what He would capture and enslave as hate like Him,
as EgoConserving-Autonomous empty Hubris,
absence of integrity,
confusing this dawn of and for conserving Earth's climates of gratitude
for shared multiculturing Elder health-wealth properties,
dissembling active hope with WinLose supremacist strategies
for further beheading powers to own me
through His self-addicted
LeftBrain EgoSupremacy
on this new cooperative dawn of Yang/Yin integrity
with LeftDeductive/RightInductive conserve-progress reproductivity,
reweaving not so much hate about His needs
treating me as His mere commodity,
to free Him and me to love how we both cooperatively share
our AfricanElder EarthMother healthwealth fertile properties.

God bless his StraightWhite Master shrinking heart.
He's doing his LeftBrain UberYang best
to keep all His self-condemning ego-conserving slaves apart
for fear we could remember
this cooperative on and off-line potential
to sing our songs
and dance our marches
of circling love
so AfricanMatriarchal Peaceful,
rich fertile Yintegrating Flow of karmic eco-redeeming grace.

No one shrinking heart of fear-mangled RightBrain RePression
could build sufficient firewalls of confusion and fake news
fast enough to contain this viral tsunami of love's peaceful
healthy Left-Right balancing ReGenerative Wealth ReSolution.

This Plantation,
unlike His other privately-held corporations,
is cooperatively owned and administered
by all us former slaves of colonialism,
stretching our LeftHealth/RightWealth grappling dawn
of Let My People Go
through WinWin mutual responsibility
of self-governing
self-helping cooperativity 
as sung through centuries
by BlackMatriarchal EarthLovers.

Poem Details | by jean lars |
Categories: conflict, corruption, freedom, identity, life, love, slavery,



Evil is fierce, always lying in lurk, 
Fighting Man's opportunity to sow, 
Infinite value, a souls greatest perk,
All of us need Love and freedom to grow.

The economy and democracy,
A tease in a tie or king with a crown,
The Goddess of truth as authority,
Love expands your mind, fear will shut it down.

Artificial walls, which cannot be seen,
Erected by the beast of many names, 
Keep your mind clear and let your heart stay keen,
Spirit will fly unrestricted by frames.

The Earth is our home and balance the key,
A sovereign man will truly be free.

Comments are Welcome.

Poem Details | by Thomas King |
Categories: absence, addiction, life, slavery, true love,

Till Death Do Us Part

What is it with you? 
Tiny little pill
That makes me crave you
 Even though I’m not even ill

You have clouded my judgment
And infected my brain
The way I let you control me 
I must be totally insane

I know I should leave you 
Discard you for sure
But I can’t seem to shake 
Your illicit allure

You always seem to know 
How to make me forget
All the things in my life 
That fills me with regret

You numb all my pain 
And chase away my fear
You take me from my reality
And make everything disappear

How ironic it is
Although my mind is sedated
I feel we are as one
Both poison and encapsulated

I guess I must accept
You’re my companion for life
My life’s guilty pleasure
My 80 milligram wife

So forever we are bound
You have had me from the start
Just one dose of your pleasure
So now it’s till death do us part

Poem Details | by Vee Bdosa |
Categories: anxiety, beauty, emotions, horror, slavery, true love,

The Burying of The Virgin

The gloom of death gone bad so near that night,
as circumstance played out a mournful tune,
and echoed through my brain, as if it might,
give credence to the shadows of full moon;
and buried I my virgin, thin and bare,
she bathed in lilac, head down to her toes;
I laid her sixteen feet, to keep her there,
and marked her with a name that no one knows.
Then lest the devil wolves, who loved her dear,
should get a sence of lilac in the night,
and smell their way from there to over here,
to raise her from her tomb, as sure they might!
     I could not bear to end her chastity,
       and so she died a virgin willingly!

She was an early purchase, just a child,
of seven years from gypsies passing by,
and in her eyes, the look, both free and wild,
yet of her bondage never questioned why.
All ladies saw her beauty, as she grew,
and changed from childhood to maturity,
to be more woman than they ever knew,
and virgin that she was, was due to me,
but at her end, her body was afire,
and yearning for the love I would not give,
lest I should lay to waste, in my desire,
the greatest beauty of this life I live!
     So sleeps my virgin, as she'll always be,
      unless my passion gets the best of me!
© Ron Wilson Arbuthnot
aka Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet

Poem Details | by turrner bodeen |
Categories: flower, freedom, garden, love, relationship, sensual, slavery,

taming flowers

there's not a flower
can't grow wild
thrive neglected and ignored
but how much better
some can do when caged
tied to stakes
and pruned
their buds collected
to encourage growth
the sun, the rain, the earth
and care and harvesting
no less important
to renew the bloom.

Poem Details | by J. I. Thomas F. |
Categories: humanity, love, power, slavery,

King of Hearts

Fools! They boast of flight and p'wr over minds.
My gift is greater by far, listen well:
For I have sovereign control o’er all kinds,
of hearts; Yea, I can cast the timeless spell.

And by this grace I bind unto myself,
ev’ry human being and all their strength
Do you know any greater form of wealth,
than a race that will drive to ev’ry length—

for you; because they love you, they will try,
to please you, they would sacrifice themselves,
or spend their lives toiling ‘neath the sky,
your hand can reach stars, to the core it delves!

A billion minds themselves for you command,
Matchless p’wr, brought by hearts caught in your hand

12 June 2016

Poem Details | by Kishan sharma |
Categories: love hurts, memory, middle school, miracle, miss you, missing you, slavery, soccer, solitude, sorry, spiritual, stars, sunshine,

love connection

Love is you,my dear, you are mine,
My heart and heart are you mine.

You are only my every moment,
I know that you know it.

The love of both are tied together,
Mind you are mine and you are mine.

My luck and wealth are you mine.
You stay only in my heart,
Do you know how to know this?

Since birth is my birth,
 you have separated from me since then.

Just got to meet a little late,
We do not have any clue about it.

Love is you,my dear,
You are mine,
My heart and heart are you mine.

Poem Details | by Gerald Dillenbeck |
Categories: addiction, culture, gender, health, love, racism, slavery,

Creolizing Grace

We often lament long-term effects of slavery
on those enslaved across multiple generations.

Enslavement leads to addiction and codependent denial,
then is taught and mentored to enslaved children,
also separated from family and sold,
until third generations and beyond
were dressed in commodified adoptions
and creolizing adaptions
and fear
and anger
and despair
about not born good enough
right enough
correctly enough
healthy enough
timely enough
to gratefully know God's White Caste Grace.

As hellish as this continuing historic lamentation
co-arises a tale of chronic traumatic stress disorder
issuing from slave owners
who purchased human nature
with a contract exchanging money
for rights and responsibilities
and violent terrorism of animal husbandry.

The children of slave owners,
and those who profited by economic and political relationships with this ancient breed
of traumatized neurotic, if not psychotic, people owners
continue a contagious curse of unresolved stress disorders
to the extent we allow ourselves to hide behind
entitled to be superior ego-manias.

To the extent slavery and concomitant addictions
to violence and racism,
xenophobia and sexism,
capitalism and ageism,
(years of potential return on investment)
resolve to heal White Caste Grace,
to that extent we are open to profound creolization of love,
available only through gratitude for sacred dignity
of all God's Earthly Creations,
in all our polyculturing diversity.

Yet unresolved owning of people,
sex as transaction between buyer and sold,
and more violent ways and means of husbandry
as applied to women and not straight enough men,
poor and vulnerable populations,
criminalized and shamed and disgraced stigmatizations,
all carry these worn threads of traumatic stress disorder,
human natural lives as if competitions to own and control and rent and manage
other angry fear-avoiding people
were compatible with abundant political ecology of grace
and mutual gratitude's democratically ubiquitous response.

While the Agricultural and Industrial Revolutions
greatly expanded the scale of slave and people-owner tensions
and pathological husbandry enculturations,
moral ambiguities about humane patriarchal stewardship
and matriarchal domesticating husbandry repressions
appear to be as old as Creation Stories.

Freedom for healthy interdependent relationships
remain in tension with deeply etched fears of self-enslavement
and angry insecurities about intrinsic grace
and value
and dignity
shared by all Earth's Tribes,
all God's Sacred Creations,
continuing internal landscapes of enslaved property
and more exterior climates of growing competitive
rather than Yang/Yin creolizing harmony.

Transitioning from the Industrial and Agricultural Revolutions
into a permaculturally Sustainable Evolution
invites each of us to embrace
this great divide written across each unhealed yet interdependent heart,
part humane slave owner
and part domesticated addict of self-denial,
to continue more resonant matriarchal self-husbandry
with gratitude for healthy grace,
with love for
and with
and of this Earth space,
spiritual interior and natural exterior
creolizing place.

Poem Details | by Lebo Bopalamo |
Categories: sad love, endurance,

Elusive love - Restricted love under slavery

No road elects to prune
a wavy path past mindless
parts of this life, 
resembling our ghosts,
my love

I need no hearing,
no strings and
no sounds,
I need only hear your voice...

No love selects a raindrop's
teary glide, 
that leaves a broken heart 
my love

Those wails we use to un-robe
a sheath of repeated loss,
Demand we know...
and say no,
the second before we deplete
the trust

My love,
I know no worth 
beyond the faith you bestow on me
No right to think
aside from that storied
black man steel

My world elects to choose 
your captive smile,
kept in tow for him...
to signify 
my love denied

My love,
That welts and strain 
wrap our shared images with a glare
is an un-repeated refrain,
of the sunlight at dawn

That strands of desolation
retain misguided parity
with our measured truth,
is dusk's residual question

When rivers line up neglected masses
of sand 
and our curative rain ceases,
in the resulting twilight...
We can only call belief, endurance,
and call sanity...brave

We invoke a fictive trust 
replete with faith
For our elusive love to live

With you, my love,
We ask questions of fate,
that dies under rocks
Until the fate itself
loses its life 
in a lost dream's unneeded

Our triumphs 
call our dark moments reprieve
when all else fails

We lose our loves
in reprieves and dreams,
for our daring sanity
to stay brave

We call for each other's loves
to return like haunted dreams
To say for you my loveUnsaid.
And for me your love...
to never know
for sure...

Poem Details | by Sharline Anaya |
Categories: betrayal, emo, first love, men, romantic, slavery, symbolism,


Hidden - known but unknown: a reflection 
Of a soul; though not of a heart, 
Of a being rent apart 
from himself and from others - 
And futile the struggle 
And futile the cries 
For there is no escape though he may try -
both he and I are caught in his web of lies

Poem Details | by Rosemarie Rowley |
Categories: addiction, games, goodbye, leaving, sad love, slavery, solitude,



I was hoping you would prove me wrong -
Under the ship’s sides the barnacles still cling -
I would have thought you’d never sell our song
But true to typecast, summer mothering -

You, too, proved to be full of guile
To love meant having, which ever was the worst -
In the quiet of my trust, so deep, so fragile
I live down the purple passage of remorse.

I’d sing you happy but you were buffoon
To my trammelled wanderings a parody
Set stiff in coupled rhymes to swoon
With the ecstatic rhetoric of equality -

So passion plundered, what’s left is my disgrace
My jewelled head tortured in your embrace.


Poem Details | by Edward Ebbs |
Categories: abortion, abuse, birth, care, conflict, creation, family, hope, hurt, journey, life, love, mother, sad, slavery, tribute, visionary, voyage,

Believing in Life

My journey
begins with abuse
from an angry seed
a heart starts beating
the rape victim
carries a child
my mother
embracing life
she taught me to love
not always easy
wanting to be loved
not just baggage
waiting for a smile
I love you for you
thankful for mom
she chose me 
believing in life
deserves love 
deserves a chance

Edward J Ebbs- Feburary 19, 2017

Poem Details | by Speare Earth Poetry |
Categories: africa, black african american, black love, history, slavery, symbolism, write,


Award winning poet, PA SHAKESPEARE, With his new poem AFRICANA has been able to win the hearts of members of The Pan African MovementAFRICANA which is referred to as a World Class poem has had numerous Award Nomination this year and lots more..



"Our forebears broke kolanuts And offered prayersTo the benevolent maker,

Whose name varied from one tribe to another.
They lived in peace and harmony."

This was way before
The meek white missionaries
Made landing on our shores.

They condemned our customs and traditions.
They said our ways were primitive.
So they burnt down our shrines
And in its stead,
They gave us their three C's.
(Christianity, civilization and commerce)

These white saviours, in their glowing white robes Baptised our forebears
In the name of the Father, his Son and his Holy Spirit.
Whilst our fore-elders learnt how to pray,
They formed a government,
And on our natural Resources they preyed.

Albeit their government lynched our forebears.
In the church,
Both the oppressed and their oppressors
Screamed amen.
From two conspicuous separated rows;
The salvation bringers occupied the front seats
The back seats, sanctified for the blacks.
And they said their God was impartial.

They captured, tortured and shipped
Our forebears to the americas.
To work their cane plantations,
Cotton fields, paddy fields, sugar plants.
The unfortunate ones, thrown overboard
To swim Frank's ocean.

And many centuries after their first landing.
The descendants of former slaves,
Rose from their slumber and fought for uhuru.
This freedom many willingly lay down their lives...
And when at last, they declared us independent,
Our struggle for survival begun.

Godwin Henry Osaigbovo Pa SHAKESPEARE

Stay tuned for more


Poem Details | by Anil Deo |
Categories: america, appreciation, jesus, native american, patriotic, sin, slavery,

Love Native-American Patriotism: First Chronicles 29

I sang of Caleb at Harvard University, 1660
I sang of Africans come to America unknowingly
I sang of women and children who came to Jesus
Singing Old Spirituals, Crossing the Red Sea

Native-Americans may have lost everything, but one -
Their love for landHighest ratio in our warsTrue patriotism!
Like King David, who wasn't allowed to build God's Temple
Yet the biggest donor, because God Great Giver's, never outdone

I sing of Cheeshahteamuck, First in Theology in 1660
Died of TB, malnutrition, dank & cold dormitory
Like them, I know the HEART OF JESUS, the Victory
He won through sufferingThe Cross: "The Way" of Unity

I sing of Africa, my adopted mother, womb of more slavery
Still, all this world is slave to sin, pleasure, false security..
Whatever GOD allows, is BEST and the best place to be
SURRENDER to NOW: like Jesus, tasting & sharing ETERNITY

Poem Details | by Kofi Amed |
Categories: africa, black love, celebration, slavery, spoken word, strength, youth,


From a tribe called quest;
where we will never give up.
From a nation called hope ;
where we will never stop struggling.
From a region called Ifriqiya;
where the sun never stops shinning.
Part of a race called black;
where they striped our identity.
From a time in history;
where my race is ridiculed and look down upon as low class people.
In a new world;
where they continue push the fate of my people into despair.
In an ever changing generation;
where famine poverty and plaques are still rampant in my nation
On a diverse continent;
where they altered our history and fabricated wars.
Am part of a people;
whose distant cousins continue to suffer in all forms of racial abuses
On a planet where my people are ridiculed scorned and are the most poverty stricken.
From an era;
where some still view our sable race with scornful eyes.
Living in a country; under the pressure to embrace robbery decked out as free trade.
Threading on a territory ;
where people are separated by invisible boundaries but united in dreams…
On a land in which our history did not begin in chains and it will not end in chains.
You know,My race is like a rubber ball ;
The harder you dash it to the ground, the higher it will rise.

Poem Details | by Anil Deo |
Categories: allegory, atheist, forgiveness, freedom, gospel, jesus, slavery,


DEDICATION: To Paul : Tristich Series
Out of uttermost, depths, disappointments, baby deaths.. We have forgiven God, the forgiveness He began in spaciousness Our suffering is the portal to discovery: Abba-Father suffered Eden's losses
If we have any heirs, they'll welcome us in heaven alongside Jesus And Trinity loved Eve as dearly as They did Adam, yet parted with Yeshua To get more sons and daughters; Isaiah sang "It pleased God to crush Him
This is why we can face a spouse, loss after loss: heirs, land, home Suffering is the only portal to take us beyond suffering: like sin, alluvial gold! Easy to find, preciously, invaluably turning us away from here to there: my Home

Poem Details | by Lisa Antley |
Categories: betrayal, black african american, black love, celebrity, confusion, hip hop, slavery,

For Kanye

Never bite the hand that 
feeds you.
Be careful not to burn bridges 
you need to
cross again 
Let’s not pretend 
you’re not the issue
it’s everybody but you.
Sacrifices they made for you, 
but you forgot where you came from.
Actin like an edumacated fool- 
dumb dumb.
Now, you want to apologize- 
say you’re sorry- 
Your eyes cry
lonely tears
feed your fears.
before you speak.
Check your priorities too.
We so done 
playin these games 
with you.


Poem Details | by Beryl O. Adhiambo |
Categories: abuse, black love, dark, evil, sad love, sin, slavery,

Mariah of Magdala

Part I: Sin

Mariah of Magdala

The cursed one among women

Better that you were not born

The one full of black evil

Queen of prostitutes

None of modest can be traced in you

Yet men still Adour you

They still come crawling even in black dark	

They do not care if day is scorching bright 

Neither if its black pitch in deep groovy woods

They hunt you from the cave you hide

When they smell your shadow Mariah

They cannot hold on their dripping appetite

That made wet their groins

What charm are you using Mariah!

Why don’t you share with other women?

Do you want all the men to yourself Mariah?

Poem Details | by John Crowe |
Categories: anger, death, love, passion, power, slavery, women,

Monster Maker

You told me to Go to Hell And walked out of my life Said you never loved me You love to twist the knife I hope that you're happy now Cause I'm sure enough in Hell I'm in your deep dark pit Where all the monsters dwell The evil swirls around me It's starting to seep inside Moving all through my veins And going down my spine So now that I'm full of hate And my life can resume Heaven help my next lover Cause now I'm just like you

Poem Details | by EMILIA NAKAFINGO |
Categories: betrayal, black love, dark, endurance, slavery, solitude, woman,