If only it were true . ... You may call it dirty but when she smiles all I see are gods in all celestial and earthen abodes leaping and fallen to see beauty.
We are dirty colors; it’s like not cleaning the shelf for weeks. We may be considered as rotten some sort of privileged garbage. What is the matter?
It is okay to ask - I am black!
My color can only be gotten from experience and nature you cannot buy it with years and over time.
Smearing melanin over your skin won’t make a difference for you.
It’s not a shirt I wear or some garment I wrap over myself; it is the culture of my experience, the signature my generation would carry on to the latter.
No matter how beautiful I look you can’t see it because your be-shamed lenses cloud the righteousness of your sight. To you,
We are dirty colors;
One you can never wash clean
One the bright lights of heaven will never brighten though we have our brilliance
It is the color of Earth; unlike all its creatures we shadow the sunlight into cool places the heart sure showers the unforgotten semblance of siren ambience
We do not change because this is who we are
We are dirty colors;
You may call it dirty but when she smiles all I see are gods in all celestial and earthen abodes leaping and fallen to see beauty.
A timely poem that hits home. Some of my best friends in my life were black. Some have moved others have passed on. There is one person I think about almost every day. It's not the color of your skin that impresses but what you do and say. Love and compassion will conquer all divisions in time and to love each other is the RIGHT way. Amen
The marvelous thing is, opposites attract. No matter how evil minds have crafted a stupid reflection that "one drop makes all," the fact is opposites attract.
That attraction, drawing us all to the sun will lead to a uniform brown complexion for all in the future as old ideas and bloodlines die out.
Mary Angela Nangini's poems celebrate the richness of life and love. From the city to cottage-country and the roads in between, Nangini explores the changing seasons of her varied region. (This book will soon be reprinted in hard cover.)
(Self-published. Please contact author directly to order.)
Enter the pages of diaspora in quiet introspection. Bathe your thoughts with subtle humor; synchronize your spirit-sense with history-in-heat; fall headlong with eyes wide open into
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That attraction, drawing us all to the sun will lead to a uniform brown complexion for all in the future as old ideas and bloodlines die out.
Ron