Her fair-skinned form is not what I desire.
Because my skin is dark, and hers is light,
my passion burns like a flame not so bright:
snow-like complexion ne'er warms like auburn-fire.
Though bred as opposites opposed: one higher,
the other below where I, a dark knight,
she, like a shooting star that brightens the night,
together are a can of worms I don't admire.
The world we know won't permit us together.
She comes from privilege, money, and ease;
and, when it pleases her, she has a taste for leather.
But I loathe her society's disease,
depravity, intolerance, waste, leisure,
and fallen nature's Mephistopheles!
Don't like the look of what's going on
seems to you something's wrong
the smell of corruption in the air
look around it's everywhere
can't place the feel of what's happening here
could it be something to fear
the sound of conniving on the wind
a warning call for all thin-skinned
so round and round and round we go
where it stops no one knows
it takes two to tango or so they say
but that was then not today
ask a question and they hand you
the same old automated two-step quango
one foot forward two steps back
while standing in quicksand
pose a query they'll sidestep the issue
and the matter at hand
giving you the light fandango
they'll look you in the eye and deny
it's all a web within a web
behind a web of total lies
Stay away from a rough-skinned newt
Their poison skin is deadly, it will make you toot.
Better to linger near an angry bandicoot.
Or go to Sam’s house and watch him play his flute.
If the newt comes near you, run off and hide.
His poison skin is deadlier than cyanide.
Her fair-skinned form is more than I deserve;
because her skin is light, and mine is dark,
like Tristan and Yseult's love which King Mark
forbade, we're banned from passion's sweet preserve.
Though bred as opposites opposed, we serve
our needs: and through her milk and my coarse bark,
like Heloise and Abelard, a spark
burns (though Fulbert and Church show their reserve)!
Alas! Were I as fair, as white, as bright,
as her: were darkened complexion, and chin,
not so eclipsed by night when near her light!
Though mores, like the world, moved by lies' spin,
discourage us, the coveted birthright
to merge won't be denied by tribal men.
Light skin, fair skin
All clamoured for by
Creams to the rescue
Fading creams, toning creams
All bleaching creams
Women and men, old and young
all clamouring for light skin.
Looks enhancers
creams a dozen to a penny
Melanin, so disdainful
Ebony black frowned upon;
Beauty markers haven chosen.
Women and men, old and young
All allured to the illusion that;
that beauty is in faded skin
that beauty is in toned skin
that beauty is all bleaching
Creams a dozen to a penny
Enmity with melanin;
Alas the elbows,
the knuckles and
the ankles all but
refuse to bow; shaming the rest
of the body
Patches here and there;
Skin colours so unreal.
Colour and beauty tip gone astray;
Under skin in a state of agony
Damage done is a done deal.
Real beauty is natural
Ebony skin can't be faked
Light skin is Society's call.
(Written in the year 2015)
Always later than I'd like, richness in their cells when ripe
Backberry with Apple pie delight, once to taste is not my style
I've also found them there, at times and whiles, and tasted also before
I'm home.' and now I've opened up the tome, the one on puddings; basin filled.'
Mullberry and plum, raspberry and kiwi, gooseberry and Logan
Make pages of colour, that one could dote on' But I'll admit and without
Duress, blackberries in August are the very best, their deep rich taste
Is always smooth, enhancing many mealtimes; theyre comfort imbued.'
The pot is on; the apples peeled, blackberries tender swiftly yeild
Aroma rich, perfumes the air; there are paintings of them on my spiral stair
All in all, I must profess they are a real forte; in culinary prowess.'
a small child
crouches
quiet
eyes taken
curious sight
brow creases
in question
it a new thing
these pink shapes
on earthy brown
face
fingers
backs of hands
throat
breasts
half covered
the same
familiar
patterned dress
she child
soft traces
them
on toes
tops of feet
calves
where flame's flowers
seared skin
pink thin
knees
knelt down
in plea
in prayer
kept brown
strange
new tattoos
alien
yet not unearthly
she
small
prods
lashless lids
pats
proud cheekbones
insistent
bows her head
dark hair
falls forward
silk waterfalls
stir shadows'
flit
over
sleeping face
eyes open
wide
fear drains
colour
then
warm
deep brown
they glow
for her
knowingly
Posted: 12-12-2018.
NOTE: No to Xenophobia.
her dress smoothed down past skinned knees kissed by amorous lips frolicsome fete
9/1/2018
Skinned knees and darned socks
Hand me down clothes the lot
Playtime under the sun
Backyard cricket when the day is done
No need to be the best
Just join in with the rest
Go to bed dog tired
60s Summer time as we desired.
© Paul Warren Poetry
Oh to crispy skinned Cossages
those tasty morsels of the mind
may imagining their delicate flavours
help your busy days unwind
do they taste like asparagus
or is it peach
do they smell like running socks
or is it leech
To crispy skinned Cossages
those rocket ships of the mind
that can fly you away to near or far
wherever you’re so inclined
you could go to the circus
or just down the road
visit the rings of Saturn
or dine with a toad
Say thanks to crispy skinned Cossages
those gallant saviours of the mind
freeing you from mundane thoughts
where your life is entwined
do you cure cancer
or were you first to the Pole
a boisterous blustering braggart
or a quiet listening soul
My black Skinned knees
I woke up to this misty gloomy morning
with a scene setting unobtainable dream
a dream of impregnable God given justice
shared in a impartial world
never are my emotional
scrapes and scratches neutral
but are occupied upon this scorched earth
have i found that my abuse
is but a mirror placed on my caramel brown skin
with dancing sugar coated lies that the world
can't see due to reflecting lies
that blind you with the light of misdirection's
to the gifted indestructible young
trust not the marked famous
or these who are not there yet
but find safety in research
and know you(r) beautiful enemy
That day you said “No”
I was skinned alive
on the abattoir of rejection
bleeding my heart has been
agony burns as flames
of hell set loose on me
Not everyone see it
Not everyone wants it
Dark skinned
Born with it
Bleach it
Looking in the mirror and sees no beauty
Look at her friend
And see her end
Won't be seen as pretty
What a pity
She cries cause she's dark
Her skin so african
So brown
So fair
She is a dark skinned girl
Her beauty conquers that of a pearl
Society claims she doesn't do it
So all they do is spit
Spit right in her face
Society says she's dark "how can she be beautiful"
And I say she is a dark skinned princess
Her beauty is priceless
Cause she has the beauty of a dark skinned girl
Dark Skinned Lady. the ever poised legendary beauty, granary of compassion & culture whose stunning reign sparkles the night.
Dark Skinned Lady. comandress of matriotic forces, the earthquake that shakes the pillars of racism & sexism the stream that feeds liberating consciousness
Dark skinned lady. epicenter of the ripples of Africanism. Divinity of a soul tranced by a rhythm, a rhythm forged by the beat of a drum, the drum pumping life into the veins of my Africa!
Test my armor, my shield,
lash me, whip me, draw my blood-
Watch my thick skin heal.
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