LINDA THOMAS

LINDA THOMAS

FIRST POEMS

she is more than you will ever know

because you would never take the time to know her

she is witty and charming and beautiful and black

her skin the color of milk chocolate

and her soul just as sweet, as are her kisses

explanations should not be necessary, but I will

I see people, just people, all one race; the human race

the color of her skin means nothing more

it is color, like the color of her hair or her eyes

I see the fire in those eyes and the rainbow in her soul

she is gentle and kind and has a passion for life

this girl is smart and funny and has a smile that shines

but you would just pass her by without a glance

murmuring something derogatory under your stale breath

and being the lady she is, she would simply ignore you

so you just move along, your opinions mean nothing

she is my life and my happiness and I love her fiercely

trifle with her and I would defend her with my life

so you just pack up your little bigotries and leave us

in our world we are all God's children equally...

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SECOND POEM

white people are not actually white

and black people are not actually black

we are pink and beige and brown and tan

we are all simply the color of our skin

and that changes with the weather....

we are all the color of flesh, flesh is merely that

we are one race, one species...the human race

we hail from the four corners of the planet

but his planet is our domain; it is our territory

the human animal is sophisticated and complex...

we are also naive and fearful and rather stupid

someone, somewhere, sometime long ago

decided that the color of our skin had some bearance

that our pigment implied something about us

and that a particular tone of flesh should be better

there are two distinct types of life on this planet

plants and animals, and though some may argue

we are animals; just as cats and dogs and lions and bears

every species comes in a multitude of colors, it's nature's way

how dismal a place the world would be devoid of colors....

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THIRD POEM

a battle since time began

from the first time man judged man

seeking that which is the same

seeing skin but not the flame

all hearts beat the rhythm of life

all bleed red when cut by a knife

why is different something to fear

to ridicule with verbal smear

men of good character close their eyes

they turn their heads and ignore the lies

but the ignorant hear and believe

and loudly preach what they perceive

in truth man is simply man good and bad

having nothing to do with the skin they clad

less we forget we are all of one race

our own destruction we may one day face...

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Linda Thomas

United States of America