December 0

Blog Archive

Thu, 24.09.2009

TO CINQUE by James M. Whitfield.

All hail!

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Thu, 24.09.2009

THE FOERUNNERS (from America) by James M. Whitfield.

America, it is to thee,
Thou boasted land of liberty,-
It is to thee I raise my song
Thou land of blood, and crime, and wrong.
It is to thee, my native land,
From which has issued many a band
To tear the black man from his soil,
And force him here to delve and toil;
Chained on your blood-be moistened sod,
Cringing beneath a tyrant’s rod,
Stripped of those rights which Nature’s God
Bequeathed to all the human race,
Bound to a pretty tyrant’s nod,
Because he wears a paler face…

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New Poem Each Day

Poetry Corner

Black is the first nail I ever stepped on; Black the hand that dried my tears. Black is the first old man I ever noticed; Black the burden of his years. Black is... NEGRITUDE by James Emanuel
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