Skip to main content

Please Don’t Tell Me (from the poetry book "In and Out of Season"



Please don’t tell me
You don’t see color
 Don’t worry
I ain’t mad at you
I’m just confused
Why don’t you?
Would you look at a sunset and say
“Oh I don’t see its radiance”
Or feel the breeze of a Colorado summer morning and say
“Oh I don’t feel that cool breeze on my face”?
Now I’m not delusional
I know I’m not a sunset or a morning breeze
But I am a man
A black man
And I see you, brother
So please don’t tell me
You don’t see me

Ignoring our diversity
Is not bringing us closer together
It’s creating an invisible wall of silence
Acceptance because I assimilated is not acceptance
And pretending that I “fit in” when I don’t creates suspicion and ignorance
Fear and tension
The Enemy uses these weapons to create the borderlines between us
So talk to me
I want to talk to you
Listen to me
I want to listen to you
We don’t have to agree on everything
Believe it or not
I don’t agree with every black person I know either
But the love is there
And isn’t love greater than colorblindness?
So please, don’t tell me
You don’t see my color
When God intentionally made it obvious



Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Watching My Step

I've always had big feet. It's true. There was never a moment in my childhood when my feet were not an object of frustration and ridicule. And those "dogs" were all over the place, facing the wrong direction, tripping over themselves, tripping over coffee tables, desks, chairs, other people. It was embarrasing. Watching my step was a full time job. Since becoming a man, I've mastered my former oppressors (my size 14's) and you would hardly noticed my attention to detail. However, today, at 40, I'm still watching my step. With so much experience and success with walking and watching my step, I've discovered that the same is true in my spiritual life as well. I haven't always watched my step in life and of course, it resulted in me finding myself in all kinds of traps, snares and dead ends. I've spent years tripping over my sinful habits and walking down dirt roads that lead to nowhere. To no one's blame but my own. After experiencin...
1 comment
Read more

Eulogy (part 2)

My father never found his kingdom on earth. The multimillion dollar inheritance that he often spoke of with such hope and promise would never be realized. That two dollars and fifty cents? I still have it today. When I first discovered in his wallet, among his belongings, I wept. Such a proud and successful man should never die with so little. I now keep it among my prize possessions in honor of what my father did leave me. He left me with something greater than a kingdom on earth. He left me with a desire and a passion to be the father that he couldn’t be with me. He left me with a thirst for love and family. In the end when I think of my father, a number descriptions come to mind: bold, passionate, angry, driven. But I know that he loved me best way he could. In his own way, everything he did was for me. The way he lived his life and even the way he died. His cause of death was congested heart failure. Indeed my father had so much on his heart th...
Post a Comment
Read more

whatever

when you notice me do you really know it's me cause i'm a be what i'm supposed to be whether your near or not that close to me fact is, i really don't practice this and i can careless how black this is you can't charge me like paying taxes and turn around and ask me to act like this drag your feet, slur your speech grab your crotch before you teach i understand that's some of the things you see but what does that have to do with me seriously...like, i wanna know how many brothers do you know not all of us are quick, some are slow some, like me, say "four" some brothers say "fo" just because i say "for" don't make me no better i just know how to dress for the weather whether i need to be direct or clever if i'm still not black enough...whatever
2 comments
Read more