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Izzy Mar 2017
I know you think your eye are nothing special,
But I disagree.
I love that they light up when you’re happy or when the light hits them just right and they aren’t just brown anymore.
They turn gold.
They shine and sparkle with amber flecks.
They turn chestnut,
The color of the tree we shared lunch under.
They turn the color of your favorite chocolate candy, streaked with caramel.
They turn to color of the coffee you drink in the morning.
They turn the color of the hot chocolate we shared one cold Friday morning.
And all these different shades of brown.
I especially love when they light up because of something I did.

They remind me
Of warmth,
Of your hugs,
Of a lot of other things.
All are good.
cait Mar 2017
when i feel your gaze rest upon me
a weight is lifted from my heart
and another is placed upon my throat.
for when you (who is perfect)
and i (who is ******)
join eyes like the mixing of mud and
water
you steal my words and tear out my voice
imprison me within your sight
and i comply.
for it is you (who is perfect)
and i (who is ******)
why is it that after all this time it doesn't feel like prison?
mk Mar 2017
my face-wash is a whitening cream
but what if i don't want to be white?
what if i just want my skin to be clean
since when did white and clean begin to come in the same package?
are white people the poster-children of cleanliness
because they've washed their hands
with the blood of my ancestors?

am i *****
because i have not?


it bothers me when my grandmother tells me
that i am lucky
because i was born the fairer one of the two sisters
she says she fears for what i would have looked like
had my colored mother not fallen in love with a white man
mixing her ***** genes with his pure ones
to create a mix-bred child, who, in any case
was better than being born brown.

it would have been a sin
for me to have colored skin


i am still dealing with the remnants of my colonial past
because i am still afraid of telling my mother
that i am in love with a colored man
she will accept him because he is loving and kind
but in the back of her mind
there will be a little voice that whispers
wouldn't it have been better if he was white instead?

and i've heard a lot of people tell me
"thank God your hair is the right kind of curly
not the frizzy, afro-like hair
wild and free
thank God your hair is tame
thank God your hair falls in neat little curls
(you got your dad’s genes!)
thank God
we can hold it
and mold it
into what we like
thank God your hair is the right
kind of curly."


you see my mom escaped by marrying a man with white skin
but with me the cycle begins again
because he's two shades darker
and my children will be too
the white genes of their grandfather
lost
among the dark genes of their father-
with chocolate eyes and hazel skin

i am still struggling to see at my father
as one of "us" and not one of *"them"
struggles of a bi-racial child
Kee Mar 2017
and my heart feels heavy while my head is light, everything is dizzy and i can't sleep at night
i think of my monsters and know they'll always be in my head
i can try to stop them, but they're like the plague-
contagious, fast paced, and deadly
there's no freedom from the oppression i've been given
ever since i popped out the ***** with brown skin that's when my label was given
my statistics- given
stereotypes- given.
poverty- given.
everything that the 'superior' dont want or need- given.
life aint easy, and it never will be
they say keep ya head up
but i want it to fall
i want it to crash and burn
and i want to go down
i want to let go
but i cant
Was in my private,  Idk why.
mi Mar 2017
when i was younger, this boy used to tease me about my skin color;
how much it resembles coal,
and how it makes me look like an Aeta,
and how they can't see me in the dark,
but even before that i was insecure.
because when people bothered to look at me,
they'd only see ebony
and to them it was synonymous with ugly and *****.

but i don't blame them.

they're just caught in the current of colonialism
when we measured one’s status through the hue of their skin
and we followed.
we followed their discrimination of the ones whose skin didn't look like the exact duplicate of ivory and marshmallow.
we followed their system of supremacy of putting the lighter ones up in the stars to match whiteness with brightness.
we followed their standards of beauty which just happened to be the exact ******* opposite of our majority.

now our country is driven mad
by the idea of whitening your skin
until your heritage is nowhere to be seen;  
it has been scrubbed off by papaya soap,
masked by glutathione
and devalued by insults.
but hey,
who cares about heritage if you look like that European actress?
who cares about culture when you could pass off as an American?
who cares about natural brown when synthetic white wears the crown?
a poem about the obvious but ignored colorism in the philippines

d.j.
Amanda Kay Hill Feb 2017
I am driving on
I-25 in Fort Collins
Colorado and I see a
Brown house
Brown house
Old little house on I-25
I wonder what the
Brown house
Will say it has a story
To say I bet you some
Of the story it have to
Tell are interesting stories
And it has see a lot of things
In it years and sunrise and sunset
I love driving by the little brown house
And see the sunset behind the little
Brown house
@ Amanda Kay Hill
2/15/17
The Calm Feb 2017
Nothing more beautiful
Than a pair of big brown eyes
Our world tells us that for eyes to be beautiful they have to match the skies but that's all lies
There's nothing more beautiful than staring into her eyes and seeing how her soul is connected to the earth
Mother nature's nectar, and me just a hummingbird
Only needing one, I don't need to be a collector cause you see
Her beautiful brown eyes are deeper than blue skies
her beautiful brown eyes are compassionate and wise
I could not vocalize, all her brown eyes symbolize, or how much I love staring them as she wakes me up at sunrise
And when I'm with her it's hard to prioritize, all I want to do is romanticize, hop on our cloud and rise
I'm so happy I met you, my darling, the girl with the brown eyes
romatic
Caitlyn Ann Yost Feb 2017
Your eyes hold mountains in them.
I could easily trek through every trail, count every stone, and memorize the amount of steps it takes to hike to the tops and back down each hill.

It's safe to say, I would not mind.
I would not mind adventuring you
for the rest of my life.
inspired by those brown eyes
Pagan Paul Feb 2017
.
I think I may have just died
looking in to your almond eyes.
Cedar hues of beige and brown,
for me such beauty in which to drown.
Chestnut and umber, darker shades,
silently dissolve my barricades.
Soft bark pastels of hazel and fawn
delicately hold my heart reborn.


© Pagan Paul (09/02/17)
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