do yall know any poems by well known authors about racism?

Answer 1

EVERYTHING by Langston Hughes.

Answer 2

Robert Service dealt with that in a humorous way, and sometimes in not so humorous a way....He wrote the Athabascan question, and many time his anti racism was aimed at the Native American issues.

Answer 3

INCIDENT by Countee Cullen



Once, riding in Old Baltimore,

Heart filled, head filled with glee,

I saw a Baltimorean

Keep looking straight at me.

Now I was eight and very small,

And he was no whit bigger,

And so I smiled. But he poked out

His tongue and called me, "******."

I saw the whole of Baltimore

From May until December.

Of all the things that happened there

That's all that I remember.

Answer 4

Try Maya Angelou's poems.

Answer 5

"Telephone Conversation" by Wole Soyinka

The price seemed reasonable, location
Indifferent. The landlady swore she lived
Off premises. Nothing remained
But self-confession. “Madam,” I warned,
“I hate a wasted journey – I am African.’
Silence. Silenced transmission of
Pressurised good-breeding. Voice, when it came,
Lipstick coated, long gold-rolled
Cigarette-holder pipped. Caught I was, foully.
“HOW DARK?” … I had not misheard … “ARE YOU LIGHT
OR VERY DARK?” Button B. Button A. Stench
Of rancid breath of public hide-and-speak.
Red booth. Red pillar-box. Red double-tiered
Omnibus squelching tar. It was real! Shamed
By ill-mannered silence, surrender
Pushed dumbfoundment to beg simplification.
Considerate she was, varying the emphasis –
“ARE YOU DARK? OR VERY LIGHT?” Revelation came.
“You mean – like plain or milk chocolate?”
Her assent was clinical, crushing in its light
Impersonality. Rapidly, wave-length adjusted,
I chose. “West African sepia” – and as afterthought,
“Down in my passport.” Silence for spectroscopic
Flight of fancy, till truthfulness clanged her accent
Hard on the mouthpiece. ‘WHAT’S THAT?” conceding
“DON’T KNOW WHAT THAT IS.” “Like brunette.”
“THAT’S DARK, ISN’T IT?” “Not altogether.
Facially I am brunette, but, madam, you should see
The rest of me. Palm of my hand, soles of my feet
Are a peroxide blond. Friction, caused –
Foolishly, madam – by sitting down, has turned
My bottom raven black – One moment, madam!” – sensing
Her receiver rearing on the thunderclap
About my ears – “Madam,” I pleaded, “wouldn’t you rather
See for yourself?”

Answer 6

Racism
Anonymous, Framingham, MA


Hatred,

Names that burn

like fire.

Ridicule and ignorance,

closed minds.

Refusal to accept

and understand.

I begin to question

Are they right?

Is there something wrong with me?

What makes them better?

Confusion