In America, February is Black History Month. Many people argue that color and race continue to be issues of contention because we tend to keep racial differences negatively highlighted in public thought. The way I see it, America is the great "melting pot" and it is our differences that make the country great. By that I mean, that we should respect the fact that different cultural backgrounds and racial dynamics have contributed to our art, literature, music, language, and even our politics (no matter how negative or positive).
I have often reflected on the subject of color and race as a point of creative inspiration and pride. I am an African American author, and though my literary influences lean more toward Shakespeare and Dickinson, I never deny my open love of Langston Hughes, Nikki Giovanni, James Baldwin, Maya Angelou, or many other writers of color. My greatest point of pride is having the option of drawing from all wellsprings, no matter who I am. I celebrate my freedom to love what I love and reflect my feelings in my own words.
I have included some of my thoughts on color, race, and style through the works I have written which are inspired by the African American writers that I have studied and read.
~Danielle G.
Color Is
Color is a symbol
It bears both right and wrong--
Color is the flavor
Of a songbird’s sweetest song.
Color is diversity
Between both black and white.
Color is the essence
Of sweet silence in the night.
Color is the fear of change
That separates by race.
Color is the essence
Of fresh roses in a vase.
Color is the shade of black
That hovers over Death.
Color is a sunset gold,
That takes away your breath.
Color is the sorrow deep
in one’s unanswered cry.
Color is delightful wings
Upon a butterfly.
Color is the consequence
On every chosen path.
Color is a jubilee:
a child’s young, carefree laugh.
Color is impossible:
the end of a mind’s rope.
Color is a miracle
The greatest gift of hope
Color is confusion
that entangles within noise.
Color is a party,
and a joy to end all joys
No matter what your color is,
no matter where you start,
Color is the feelings
kept every person’s heart.
~Danielle Grace
~Danielle Grace
The Black Man
The vibe he sings with ancient blood ties
Peering endlessly with sight
Into the everlasting depths
Of the universe in flight;
Framed with the ebon lengths
Of darkness: soft and light--
Thicker than blackness,
Imbued with the essence of night.
Arched with raven feathers
Like the plumage of Thebes
Elegantly reigning o’er
Deep orbs of mystery.
Imprinted on the canvas
Of Africa: brilliant and rich--
Smooth, Chocolate, Caramel;
Chiseled features bewitch.
Virile and strong
With rose petal lips,
Soft as the breeze
And the Morn’s fingertips.
Stature of stone
To stand on his own,
With grace in his rhythm--
Ingrained to the bone.
~Danielle Grace
A Plea To My People
You say your words aren’t angry,
you say you don’t know hate;
deny it for much longer,
and soon you’ll learn too late.
Just look at your own people:
afraid of their own face,
crueler than any bigot--
the same within the race
I tell you this, my brothers:
We kill our own today;
You keep the path you’re trodding,
we’ll be no more one day.
So heed these words I’m speaking;
You’d better stop and think.
If we don’t change our ways now,
these people are extinct.
you say you don’t know hate;
deny it for much longer,
and soon you’ll learn too late.
Just look at your own people:
afraid of their own face,
crueler than any bigot--
the same within the race
I tell you this, my brothers:
We kill our own today;
You keep the path you’re trodding,
we’ll be no more one day.
So heed these words I’m speaking;
You’d better stop and think.
If we don’t change our ways now,
these people are extinct.
~Danielle Grace
~Danielle Grace
RSS Feed
