The Night the Blacks Came

[rowens]

Mama was white,
and she was pissed,
and she was good at making money:
so no one said anything.

But the night the blacks came,
she got out of line.
—It was a white Christmas,
and we didn’t get much that year;
though mama made sure that what we got
was worth every penny she spent.

That was the night the blacks came,
it was twenty past twelve,
Christmas eve… Christmas day was on its way:
but this was the night the blacks came.

They were quiet, and polite,
nothing like mama had told us about blacks.
We hadn’t been in town for months;
there was a new night club,
and the blacks hung out around there,
and walked up and down those streets
day and night.

We had missed our town,
and longed for our town, in all our dreams,
with our eyes wide open, we watched
time take its toll on what life had become.
Mama said it wasn’t our town any more.

The blacks came,
I heard them, their soft, warm voices;
their delicate, open footsteps on our so silent sidewalk,
up onto our deserted porch.
—I heard the animal sounds,
the four-leg running through the woods
behind the house…

And they’d come to offer us a deer.
In case we were mad that they were chasing
deer through our lawn.
As fair in their guilt,
as their innocent palms could offer
in front of us,
the children that harbored reindeer, and dreams
of suga plums in our heads…

But mama sent them away,
with their hands, their smiles,
their fear and their innocence.
Mama was white, Christmas was white,
but night was black, the town was black…
And we, adopted children, were too.

And mama couldn’t shine us,
no matter how much we owned.










.....................................

Mama was white,
And she was pissed,
And she was good at making money:
So no one said anything.

But the night the blacks came,
She got out of line.
—It was a white Christmas,
And we didn’t get much that year;
Though mama made sure that what we got
Was worth every penny she spent.

That was the night the blacks came,
It was twenty past twelve,
Christmas eve,—Christmas day was on its way:
But this was the night the blacks came.

They were quiet, and polite,
Nothing like mama had told us about blacks.
We hadn’t been in town for months;
There was a new night club,
And the blacks hung out around there,
And walked up and down those streets
Day and night.

We had missed our town,
And longed for our town, in all our dreams,
With our eyes wide open, we watched
Time take its toll on what life had become.
Mama said it wasn’t our town any more.

The blacks came,
I heard them, their soft, warm voices;
Their delicate, open footsteps on our so silent sidewalk,
Up onto our deserted porch.
—I heard the animal sounds,
The four-leg running through the woods
Behind the house…

And they’d come to offer us a deer.
In case we were mad that they were chasing
Deer through our lawn.
As fair in their guilt,
As their innocent palms could offer
In front of us,
The children that harbored reindeer, and dreams
Of suga plums in our heads…

But mama sent them away,
With their hands, their smiles,
Their fear and their innocence.
Mama was white, Christmas was white,
But night was black, the town was black…
And we, adopted children, were too.

And mama couldn’t shine us,
No matter how much we owned.

[tectak]

[quote='rowens' pid='113851' dateline='1359565177'] I have read this through rowens. It is very good. There are inconsistencies of language but they could very easily be "in character". There are some irritations ( I use that word a good deal to indicate a personal foible) which others may disagree with....but they are of minor consequence. This piece does not need a line by line but it deserves one. Here goes.
Mama was white,
And she was pissed,
And she was good at making money:
So no one said anything.Irritating capitalisation of each line, particularly when using conjunctions. Excellent opener and scene-setting.

But the night the blacks came,5
She got out of line.
—It was a white Christmas, The hyphen/dash means,and does, nothing. If you want a pensive pause before the line push the first two lines of this stanza up to the first stanza. That is where they belong, anyway. This stanza will then begin with "It was a white Christmas" Perfect.
And we didn’t get much that year;
Though mama made sure that what we got
Was worth every penny she spent. Very appropriate observation and thought. Excellent conceptualising. As simple as it needs to be but no simpler.

That was the night the blacks came, A full stop at this line end?
It was twenty past twelve,
Christmas eve,—Christmas day was on its way: Again with the hyphen/dash. There really is no need for it. Full stop after "eve" does it. A hyphen links words, not cameos. Dashes usually interject a comment to add a little more information-like an explanation-to the reader.
But this was the night the blacks came.

They were quiet, and polite,
Nothing like mama had told us about blacks.
We hadn’t been in town for months;
There was a new night club,
And the blacks hung out around there,
And walked up and down those streets
Day and night.

We had missed our town,
And longed for our town, in all our dreams full stop here. You have completed a perfect sentence. Move on
With our eyes wide open, we watchedComma superfuous?
Time take its toll on what life had become.
Mama said it wasn’t our town any more.

The blacks came, Though a repeated refrain I think this line needs the resigned finality which isolation gives. Full stop at line end would do it
I heard them, their soft, warm voices; I am getting drawn in to this and so I might be over-sensitive. I think full-stop after "...them." same reason as above.
" Their soft,warm voices and
their delicate, open footsteps on our silent sidewalk," . Not sure what an "open" footstep is, though
Their delicate, open footsteps on our so silent sidewalk,
Up onto our deserted porch.
—I heard the animal sounds,Drop the dash. New stanza
The four-leg running through the woods
Behind the house…

And they’d come to offer us a deer.Superfluous "and" but this is the "in character" style which may be deliberate. If so, ignore me
In case we were mad that they were chasing
Deer through our lawn.
As fair in their guilt, No comma required
As their innocent palms could offer
In front of ussemi-colon, to give credibility to the thought process.
The children that harbored reindeer, and dreams
Of suga plums in our heads…sugar typo. Now the thought process is in its whistful end. Some may say no to the ellipsis...but not me
But mama sent them away,
With their hands, their smiles,
Their fear and their innocence.
Mama was white, Christmas was white,
But night was black, the town was black…
And we, adopted children, were too.

And mama couldn’t shine us,
No matter how much we owned.Quite,quite beautiful. A great perceptive rush of an ending. Commendable. Are you listening, leanne.
Hogworthy best,
tectak
[quote]

[rowens]

Thanks for the advice. Like you said, I'm trying to get away from the way I do things here, as if another person is writing it. So I was lax with the punctuation; I wanted to see what comments would say. The dash is something I use a lot though. For a pause, like you said. I like dashes, I like the way they look, I like the way they look and are used in other poems I read by other poets. So you can call it a quirk if you want. With this poem though, I can consider what you said about them.

[Wjames]

Mama was white,
And she was pissed,
And she was good at making money:
So no one said anything.

But the night the blacks came,
She got out of line.
—It was a white Christmas,
And we didn’t get much that year;
Though mama made sure that what we got
Was worth every penny she spent.

That was the night the blacks came,
It was twenty past twelve,
Christmas eve,—Christmas day was on its way:
But this was the night the blacks came.

They were quiet, and polite,
Nothing like mama had told us about blacks.
We hadn’t been in town for months;
There was a new night club,
And the blacks hung out around there,
And walked up and down those streets
Day and night.

We had missed our town,
And longed for our town, in all our dreams,
With our eyes wide open, we watched
Time take its toll on what life had become.
Mama said it wasn’t our town any more.

The blacks came,
I heard them, their soft, warm voices;
Their delicate, open footsteps on our so silent sidewalk,
Up onto our deserted porch.
—I heard the animal sounds,
The four-leg running through the woods
Behind the house…

And they’d come to offer us a deer.
In case we were mad that they were chasing
Deer through our lawn.
As fair in their guilt,
As their innocent palms could offer
In front of us,
The children that harbored reindeer, and dreams
Of suga plums in our heads…

But mama sent them away,
With their hands, their smiles,
Their fear and their innocence.
Mama was white, Christmas was white,
But night was black, the town was black…
And we, adopted children, were too.

And mama couldn’t shine us,
No matter how much we owned.

I really like this poem. I think the words you use have a very natural feel or ring to them. The second stanza is a great example of that. I dont have much to say in terms of critique, but I have a question. I am left wondering why Mama adopted black children in the first place if she is prejudicial; though it could be in some sort of orphanage setting.

[rowens]

I really like this poem. I think the words you use have a very natural feel or ring to them. The second stanza is a great example of that. I dont have much to say in terms of critique, but I have a question. I am left wondering why Mama adopted black children in the first place if she is prejudicial; though it could be in some sort of orphanage setting.

I have more to say about this poem. I'll wait and see if I get more critiques.

Lots of white people in America adopt children of other races. I have black kids in my family, and my family aren't exactly the most open-minded people in world. And I'm not only white myself, though most people identify me as white.

[billy]

breakfast now but so far i've read it a few times and liked it a lot. will give some feedback in a while

---

hi rowens, i like the gritty stereotyping you have going on here. it's sets up a good tension within the poem. i think this is one the best poems i've seen you write. it's earthy and cold and warm. the rural feel of it is extremely well done and the narrative is strong and un-clichéd
really enjoyed the read. no constructive feedback bar what's in the body of the poem
thanks for putting it up

Mama was white,
And she was pissed,
And she was good at making money:
So no one said anything. not very image rich but a great start, it shows that not everything needs an image. narrative also works well.

But the night the blacks came,
She got out of line. this is where the tension builds
—It was a white Christmas, is the - needed, and why isn't it capped (just a joke to show that not every line needs a capped letter to start it, that said you did cap the it?
And we didn’t get much that year;
Though mama made sure that what we got
Was worth every penny she spent. i like the way you show her to be this strong minded woman

That was the night the blacks came, i like the reinforcing this line has, again more tension
It was twenty past twelve, if it's in the am isn't it christmas day?
Christmas eve,—Christmas day was on its way:
But this was the night the blacks came. the build up is still working well

They were quiet, and polite,
Nothing like mama had told us about blacks.
We hadn’t been in town for months;
There was a new night club,
And the blacks hung out around there,
And walked up and down those streets
Day and night. here the tension is eased and the blacks start to be less fearful

We had missed our town,
And longed for our town, in all our dreams, i think i see what you're saying but i'm forcing myself to.
With our eyes wide open, we watched
Time take its toll on what life had become. this line feels like filler
Mama said it wasn’t our town any more.

The blacks came,
I heard them, their soft, warm voices;
Their delicate, open footsteps on our so silent sidewalk, no need for the first comma
Up onto our deserted porch.
—I heard the animal sounds, no need for the - the animal makes the tension rise again
The four-leg running through the woods and lowers, i love the use of four-leg
Behind the house…

And they’d come to offer us a deer.
In case we were mad that they were chasing
Deer through our lawn.
As fair in their guilt,
As their innocent palms could offer
In front of us,
The children that harbored reindeer, and dreams
Of suga plums in our heads… i'm wondering if suga plums is the right spelling? for me this verse is excellent in turning the poem completely around.

But mama sent them away,
With their hands, their smiles,
Their fear and their innocence.
Mama was white, Christmas was white,
But night was black, the town was black…
And we, adopted children, were too.

And mama couldn’t shine us,
No matter how much we owned. great last two stanza.

[rowens]

I'll think about this one for a while, and see what I want to do with it.

I'm usually stubborn about the things I write. Like I've said before, I feel so connected to them. Kind of like they're my children or something.

With this one, I wrote it in a kind of trance. You know that light-headed feeling when you haven't had anything to eat in a couple days, and you start to feel high? I was feeling that way, and I started thinking about a lot of poems by women (not just black women) in the '60s and '70s that dealt with these social issues. How many of them read at a very fast tempo, with lots of "And"s. I was using that rhythm, tone and tempo.

Some people cap every line. I don't always do it. And in this poem, it might be better if I don't. "Suga plums" is letting the black dialect sneak in. I say "suga" when I talk, most people in the rural south, around here, speak in the so-called black dialect, even the openly racist white people.

Of course, it's Christmas day if it's in the AM; but it's still night, and the person speaking would most likely consider Christmas to be "tomorrow". Other than the dashes, which are something I use a lot, I wanted to write it as it would be written by the speaker. He or she might even use the dashes.

So I'll think about this one. And come back to it in a while.

[Mr. Shankly]

Interesting poem.

I would agree with the other person who said the "and"s become a bit to much. For me, they become the 'heaviest' word on the line, when it seems that other words/phrases make much more of a statement. Perhaps if the "and"s did not start out lines (but instead were more frequently placed within a line) they would be less obtrusive to the reader but still carry the same tone.

[serge gurkski]

Fits my bill.
The conceit arose that one understood.*

________


Ok. I liked the repetitions a lot. They give rhythm to it, structure it.
Maybe it is a bit too pc, I dunno.
There are black arseholes too. etc.
Enjoyed the read
---
*stole that from Mailer (Oswald's Tale)

cheers
Serge

[rowens]

This is the fast paced, sometimes melodramatic-sounding style of poetry that many people write about these subjects.

There's a warmness to it; like the poetry made by other people that I rarely read.


This is a bit melodramatic, in my mind:

With our eyes wide open, we watched
Time take its toll on what life had become.
Mama said it wasn’t our town any more.

And this is keeping tension while pouring on sweetness in a child-like way. Childhood memories are important in this style of poetry. That goes for the "And"s too; it speeds the pace, and sounds child-like:


The blacks came,
I heard them, their soft, warm voices;
Their delicate, open footsteps on our so silent sidewalk,
Up onto our deserted porch.
—I heard the animal sounds,
The four-leg running through the woods
Behind the house…

And they’d come to offer us a deer.
In case we were mad that they were chasing
Deer through our lawn.
As fair in their guilt,
As their innocent palms could offer
In front of us,
The children that harbored reindeer, and dreams
Of suga plums in our heads…



So I can't disagree with any critiques so far.

[serge gurkski]

I have 2 words to add:
the first one is easy (to tec i think): It Is: suga or suguhh pum.

the other is to the "and". no, rowen, that is not just child talk. It is ancient. "and" or "ve" in ancient Hebrew keeps the whole pentateuch going. It's one - if subconscious - poetic device. this is about spoken (narrative) poetry:

"be·re·shit ba·ra e·lo·him et ha·sha·ma·yim ve·'et ha·'a·retz. 2 ve·ha·'a·retz ha·ye·tah to·hu va·vo·hu ve·cho·shech al-pe·nei te·ho·vm ve·ru·ach e·lo·him me·ra·che·fet al-pe·nei ham·ma·yim. 3 vai·yo·mer e·lo·him ye·hi o·vr vay·hi-o·vr. 4 vai·yar· e·lo·him et-ha·'o·vr ki-to·vv vai·yav·del e·lo·him bein ha·'o·vr u·vein ha·cho·shech. 5 vai·yik·ra e·lo·him la·'o·vr yo·vm ve·la·cho·shech ka·ra la·ye·lah vay·hi-e·rev vay·hi-vo·ker yo·vm e·chad.

In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth. 2 And the earth was waste and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep: and the spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters. 3 And God said, Let there be light: and there was light. 4 And God saw the light, that it was good: and God divided the light from the darkness. 5 And God called the light Day, and the darkness he called Night. And there was evening and there was morning, one day.


Got the gist? ;-)

[rowens]

Yeah, I get what you're saying about the "and". And it can be child-like too, like when a child's telling a story, and they say "And then.... And.... And.... and then.....and then he said....and then...."

So like most things, you can look at it in different ways. As to why somebody would talk or write like that. Whether it's proper or not isn't really an issue. It's just the way it is. With the speakers, and poets I'm thinking of.

Maturity and Security are two things I don't care too much for. I think everybody becomes child-like from time to time, or stays child-like their whole life. And nothing is ever safe and secure, just "lucky".

[serge gurkski]

yes! It IS child-like too, which is good. which you will approve of. As anyone should. (Pentateuch just being too gory for me). I have my own demons.