Betting on the Races: Dark Horse

White folks: pack your bags and go.
Our nut-brown world is quite offended.
Make your shamefaced exit NOW,
And leave your mansions unattended.
Wait—before you pass the doors,
It’s time to settle ethnic scores.

No more ragtime Minstrel show.
Our Moorish science took it down.
Black lives matter. White, less so—
Now move your paleface out of town . . .
But first, shell out for racial shame
Caucasian losers of the game.

Cultural pride is ours alone:
Kings and Egyptian queens, we were.
The glories of our race, well-known,
Bedazzle in a darkened blur—
Clear to Africa’s descendants,
Puzzling to you white dependents.

Blackness lent your world its light,
Taught the Dutch to tend those flowers.
Scandinavia grew bright
Under our beneficent powers.
Negroes gave your blondes their beauty;
Helped those Norsemen shake their booty.

The Seven Wonders of the World:
We built them all. No vain conjecture
Dims our banner, black, unfurled,
Above eternal architecture.
Arts and knowledge gained from us
Are what we threaten to discuss.

We invented math and science
Which you robbed from Timbuktu.
Swarthy wisdom’s brave defiance
Caused Old Europe to renew.
All our treasure that you plundered
Testifies: your days are numbered.

Classics of our Greeks you stole:
Philosophy was never yours.
Shame upon your racist soul;
For Bach and Mozart both were Moors.
Misappropriated treasures
Call for ruthless hard-line measures.

Latino fate falls next—  but, where ?
Jews, Turks, and Arabs: are you. . . white ?
Orientals everywhere:
Choose your side and join the fight.
Blackness rising! Late the hour;
Heed your call to fight the power.

Crackers need to check your race
Stop rooting for that vulgar clown . . .
Rednecks all up in our face;
Racist throwbacks got us down.
But as your statues bite the dust
Your light goes dark (you know it must).

So move on out, oppressor, thief.
Long have you held our nation back.
In some white galaxy seek relief—
But here the light itself is black.
Stars are racist. So is the sun.
Now let God’s great black will be done.

 

 

Samuel’s Anointed

 

Race-baiting covers for agit-prop agents
splitting white hairs in their dark distress;
with name-calling, bullying, lunch money payments
and shifting the blame for their people’s mess.

Reparations are due for your boring screed
that you scrawled at the helm of the Black Star Liner.
You owe it to those who were forced to read
your obtuse agitations (you Afro-whiner).

Poisonous shout-outs to fallen comrades:
holy Saint Michael in reaper’s hood—
endless blathering racial tirades
poor comrade—your dreams are misunderstood.

You’re obsessed with injustice. That’s nothing new.
You’re a David anointed to overthrow Saul—
(as long as he’s white and less rabid than you,
oh prophet and scribe of the activist call…)

Stay mad at the system. Revile all your foes
with raving, with preaching, with bitter bad words.
Insult all your enemies; list all your woes
as you document stink on your turds.

 

 

logo-napowrimo

 

Hush yo’ Puppies, Grit yo’ Greens

Mush Mouth 3

Jesse Jackson, mug full of mush
hustling, shuffling race cards –
hush.jack-spades

your mouth mutters on,
with vague perversity
staking claims upon diversity;

Stirring pots and agitating
mumbling, blaming, cracker-baiting.

We know this is your bread and butter –
but must you thusly slur and mutter?

Rather than home-cooking sessions,
take some elocution lessons.

Spit those crackers out yo’ mouth –
the gravy train is headed South…

Get a REAL job. Join the People.
Stop carding wool and fleecing  sheeple.

You’re hard for the herd to understand
if I were you I’d change my brand.

https://i0.wp.com/verysmartbrothas.com/images/picture-8-400x237.png

J.J. pic adapted from cdn2-bexaminer.com

Hush yo’ Puppies, Grit yo’ Greens

Mush Mouth 3

Jesse Jackson, mug full of mush
hustling, shuffling race cards—
hush.jack-spades

your mouth mutters on,
with vague perversity
staking claims upon diversity;

Stirring pots and agitating
mumbling, blaming, cracker-baiting.

We know this is your bread and butter
but must you thusly slur and mutter?

Rather than home-cooking sessions,
take some elocution lessons.

Spit those crackers out yo’ mouth—
the gravy train is headed South…

Get a REAL job. Join the People.
Stop carding wool and fleecing  sheeple.

You’re hard for the herd to understand
if I were you I’d change my brand.

J.J. pic adapted from cdn2-bexaminer.com