Share article Poems about segregation in the US from the Civil War to nowadays - 3/3: Poem #11 Spotlights are making me feverish. The w ...
Spotlights are making me feverish.
The warm sweat flows in my mouth,
The caustic salt creaks my lips.
My throat – my ghastly skin is flaming.
Colored companions are plucking my strings.
Corrosive notes under keys,
At a highly spiced cadence.
Furious vengeance against the torturer.
One band, one fight, one voice.
– One shooting
Icy, white and iodized skin.
A black body on the scene.
– No more voice.
The White World
At the top, below, to the left, to the right,
In front of me and behind me, all is white,
Everywhere and always, from dawn to midnight,
When I woke up: no more fights,
I was ready to receive my rights!
I heard promises of freedom, promises to my heart,
But actually, they just rang in my head.
Now I run during the day, during the night,
Against the sand, against the wind,
From morning until twilight!
Because there's a monster behind!
A terrifying monster with a white hood!
What does he want? Nothing good...
He's thirsty? Maybe he wants to drink my blood?
It's a white world, it's a blinding world,
Without life and word!
What's my horizon?
Just death and prison...
Now I'm suffocating, noiselessly,
I'm much too tired to flee.
I smell the odor of death: I'm over.
My rights will come, but later...
With a hood look at them;
They light up the night,
and bring heat.
Carried by the wind,
They rise up towards the sky, veiled:
A warm light
Lost in the darkness.
Have given their penalty.
What burns have become common,
A bitter smell known of all.
It's the fate
of the rebel Negroes.
Poem #15 - All these eyes on me (click to
Poem #16 - Segregation in the US (click to
With the devil you made a pact.
In white you are dressed,
Black when we are naked.
We have all the same red blood,
Treated as dogs,
Beaten, hounded down and burned,
Your hatred on us is unchained,
Hatred in this State is the key,
It is what you were taught by the KKK.
During your necktie parties,
You represented white supremacy;
The smell of our bodies in decomposition
Did not make you change your position.
May God feel sorry for your souls!
Listen to the blues of the black people.