Speaking My Mind

Supporting The Right To Be White, Multiracial White or Multiracial & Against The Improper Public Posting Of Personal Genealogy Information & Family Trees By Others

Poems

awintercabin_top1.jpg picture by sterry46 

My Great Grandfather's Ghost  

Fresh-fallen snow, untouched by man, tops bushes fence and tree.
It sauntered down in the silence of night; leaving a scenic view.
The strong, gusty wind, whirling it 'round,
while you took shelter in that lonely cabin.
What memories swirled around in your mind?
Your family; simply a miner's lamp, or a remembrance from the past.

My grandfather's ghost; the knuckles of his hands
spotted blue by tiny pieces of coal.
Short of stature, long of stride ... pride in claustrophobic surroundings.
Powder-black face, a bucket of bitters quenches repressed desires.
Thirty-two years of age ... how long can a lifetime be?
The angel's voice echoes in spider-sized corridors ... alone ...
dreams turn into embers which ignite into a flame
that all too soon withers and dies.

He leaves a mark etched in my heart whenever winter comes.


by Roger C. Simmons
     revised & enhanced by sbt
   

 

 

 

 

 

   

 toomer-1.jpg picture by sterry46  

People
from The Collected Poems of Jean Toomer 
 
To those fixed on white, 
White is white, 
To those fixed on black, 
It is the same, 
And red is red, 
Yellow, yellow- 
Surely there are such sights
 In the many colored world, 
Or in the mind. 
The strange thing 
is that These people never see themselves
 Or you,or me.
  
Are they not in their minds? 
Are we not in the world? 
This is a curious blindness 
For those that are color blind. 
What queer beliefs 
That men who believe in sights 
Disbelieve in seers.  
 
O people, if you but used 
Your other eyes 
You would see beings.  
The Lives of Jean Toomer:  A Hungar for Wholeness