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Nola Swan Jul 2017
let's imagine a time when I hated this skin I'm in.
way before ink ever flowed through this pen.
when I was never proud to be told I was
Tanio Indian.
the blacker the berry
the sweeter the juice.
no the blacker your skin the closer to your roots,
and the further black people
will stray away from you.
you'll be called names
that would break even the strongest
to their delight.
you can be beautiful
with long hair.
but their not even aware.
chasing another girl with black skin
yet more fair.
now I'm standing in the store searching though the creams
yes guys.
young black girls do these things.
mom calling your phone,
but your not done
looking.
for the one that works
as the mirror stares at you,
hoping your wishes come true.
turn this dark skin into something
more pleasing for you.
unaware of the tears
that are always there
clouding your vision.
so you can never see the truth
that you are the most beautiful of the two
Brown Queens
this is for you
sometimes you are the only smudge in the room.
we are ignored, chastised, and cast aside
for most of our young lives
until you wake up on your own and realize
those pictures on your phone don't represent women like YOU
women with the perfect hue
never a blemish or imperfection
could ever be seen by the likes of you
and you finally understand the attention
was always on you
veiled by insults you couldn't see through
little brown girls with curly hair
you matter and your skin does too.
that was something I could never tell myself
but then again I had no help from young women like myself
cause most of them wishing they was Gina
we still don't get what that representation means
how Pam had a connection to queens.
but how auspicious they've made the cover up
it never really had quality
but means to further divide our people away from black equality.
Livvy Dec 2017
Between the lips of the mist
Some flowers appeared:
Tall threes watching over them,
protecting the fairies' blue plum.
cher Jul 2017
faded,
stretch marks specking
skin, lines etched into thighs
and chest.

minuscule,
bijou ruby acne wounds;
concealed behind bangs,
not makeup.

hidden,
crescent fingernail indents
in palms, holding a fist
too tight.

unavoidable,
bumps on the backs
of legs, almost as if crinkled
paper *****.

temporary,
blood red threading and
seams on waists, after
shrinking jeans.

saturated,
sangria and eggplant sunsets
ache to touch; swell slightly
before recovery.

these are my organic tattoos.
i thought i'd write a body positivity thing for fun, help everyone understand that these are natural blemishes and that we should embrace them. it's different to my usual writing style-- had a chat with some friends yesterday and i'm still working things out, so i think inconsistency is still ~alright~. this is what came out of that discussion, and i'm happy with it.
Serendipity-lee May 2017
You are complex
You are not all you seem to be
I thought I knew you
But you're a mystery to me

You are complex
You have layers and layers of truths
That I cannot seem to get through
You are a mystery to me

You are complex
I've spent hundreds of days
Trying to figure you out
But you hide so well
You are a mystery to me
You are complex
But I digress
Maybe that is your simplicity
That's my final guess
You are complex
And that is how I rest
Someone you get to know everyday..
pluviophile May 2017
behind monochrome layers of fog,
clouds,
ice,
are beauties of the natural world.
long forgotten and taken for granted,
a variety of reds,
blues,
yellows pile up.
our spectrum -
our prism of crystal glimmers -
fill up our everything.
now,
fading away in my remembrance,
remains nothing but a sheer shine,
a dazzling imagination
filled with extraordinary visions,
replacing the wonderland
outside of it.
written by c.g.
Gabriel burnS May 2017
“several wolves were introduced...
...rejuvenating vegetation
with the deer henceforth
avoiding those areas”

and now behold sprouting grass
and blossoming branches;
makes you think whether balance
always leans on a quota of violence

I start seeing in my park
the flora is suffering
I’ve let in too many deer
and they’ll eat everything offered;
they know not when to stop
leaving the trees bare *****,
chewing the bark
just because it is there.
And I'm sorry my deer
but our gardens could use some wolves
for the good of the land
(but we’re) learning the hard way,
seeing the truth in
“Too much of a good thing cannot be a good thing”
either the wolves come in, or a habitat collapse
Sunil Sharma Apr 2017
A few drivers,
mid-summer afternoon

lean against the divider,
paint peeling

some perch on it lightly---
indulge in hot group-talk;

the waltzing-shadow
of a banyan tree
opposite side of the
auto-rickshaw stand---

a street-art, delicate, dark-hued;

the phantom arms
hug
the disparate crew
in a tight family-embrace,
its breath tousling their hair

and it---
protects them from
the Mumbai heat!
@Sunil Sharma
A real scene witnessed and then embellished.
Àŧùl Apr 2017
That's why I walked right into her
While I knew she would change
Because change is so natural
She just stepped in my life
And pupate out one fine day
But she will not come back here
Whatever that was thought or said!

For she is just another butterfly,
And I'm not looking for insects.
My HP Poem #1508
©Atul Kaushal
Hannah Apr 2017
It took me years
to fall in love with myself.
It was a foreign idea
throughout my childhood.
I remember the jealousy I felt
for the girls with flawless skin,
and perfectly straight hair.
I thought they were beautiful,
and they were,
but not in the most natural way.
I wanted to be the girl
who was beautiful
after rolling out of bed at noon
without any makeup
besides the mascara
from the night before.
I wanted to be the girl
who was effortlessly beautiful
without giving it a second thought.
I always admired those girls.
I loved the security
that radiated off them,
like the shimmer of sunshine
on delicately tan skin.
It took me years
to become one of those girls.
It was a slow process.
It took the shedding
of a society built for
flawless makeup ridden
artificially created beauty.
It took acceptance
for who I am without the mask.
It took forgiveness
for the flaws I was blessed with at birth.
It took years,
but I'm finally there.
I'm one of those
naturally beautiful girls.
I'm one of those girls
that could careless about shaving,
or washing their hair.
I'm a girl without cares.
I'm a girl in love with herself.
Shibu Varkey Apr 2017
Your spirit has the smell of earth,
kissed by first rain,
effervescent with scent of promise,
Your spirit has the smell of the sea shore,
the breeze, sweet with the salty spray of power.
Your spirit has the smell of the mountain side, grassy meadow wild with fragrance of untame flowers
Your spirit has the smell of a monastery, mystic camphor serene thoughts of living.
Your spirit has the smell of the battle,
blood, gore, flesh and fight
Your spirit has the smell of a maiden
out from her scented bath,
sensual, drip dripping
Your spirit has the smell of forest,
wild sweaty, hot and humid.
Your spirit has the scent so honest,
of love pure tho rugged and rough
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