Poems About Being ‘Black’.

A few weeks ago, I felt the urge to write something in my notepad. The words that dropped in my head were, “when in doubt, blame the black man”. Not thinking much of it, I typed it out. Several days later, I thought it would be cool to add something else to it like “crack man” so it started looking more like a poem. Months went by before I felt like going back to it. Today, I felt like doing just that, to see if any poetic muses were nearby. This time I knew exactly where this was going. With at least one muse close by, I then proceed to make this a series of poems about the color black. For now just two. Enjoy.


When in doubt blame the black man.
Doubly so if it rhymes with that man,
the crack man. The cap man, the rack man. We got you on a lock man.
Shoot em, kill em, fuck em up, all the way up!
Till he’s nothing but black, man.

Cus what could be worse than being black?
A half-man.
Ubiquitous; everywhere, but fits in with no man.
Woman? The last said there’s something off about that man.


All I did was swipe right, and now it feels like a wrong turn.
“Maybe it’s just not your turn yet.”
Or maybe I’m trying too hard, with nothing but bad bets.
Feelings of desperation, manipulation is damn near perpetual.
Fuck it. I’m just tryna get another quotable, man.