Over the past couple years, I’ve written and published two poetry books. I focus on self love a lot, especially to those who may not be represented in mainstream media. I’ve chosen to share some poetry written for and about brown girls.
1)
dark reddish, brown skin hair that won’t hold a curl
girls who r born with hair that holds too many curls
sepia skin hair that won’t hold any hair do
girls who r born with without a million
sunburnt skin and one
girls who r born with slides
sun kissed skin hair that’s greasy
the colour of smells like coconut oil
bournvita, we before it got trendy
grew up drinking hair that’s lush
a tumbler of chai and lavish
with not too much milk with lots of (unspoken?) thoughts
in it underneath
skin with constellations we chopped off our braids
stars, black holes, & craters or kept them intact
burden in tried a new colour
deep (knock off designer?) eye bags or clung to the fact
no concealer in the right shade that black hair doesn’t bleach well!
to hide i know this for a fact
yesterday’s kajal we glow in the turmeric sun
blending a little too well and shimmer radiance in the moon
into under eye circles the scabs on our middle fingers
dark gums & white teeth from gripping our pencils
abnormally large ear piercings? too tightly
those sterling silver stubs working hard
would almost slip right out shines bright light too
bruises, ashy knees standards while insinuating that
walking dusty strong bare feet my race isn’t attractive-
crocodile skin elbow who’s worse
“does ur house smell like curry” u, for saying my homemade lunch
everywhere we go smells bad
what’s worse or the child me,
“u r so exotic” for caring
-objectifying me- what’s worse
or saying that we don’t stand together
“ur pretty for a brown girl” or the colourism, whatever
-comparing me to eurocentric interracial thing you’re thinking
–love poem to brown girls
2)
brown girls take heartbreak in stride
“never cried about it”
but stay up alone in their rooms
tossing & turning all night
heavy sighs from heavy hearts
that are bursting on fire
burning images of their eyes
they don’t know
how hard it is
to morally/religiously(?)/guilt-freely/what-will-my-parents-my-neighbours-my-dead-ancestors
say to me?
be with them
that’s why if we tell those people
they say “see, that’s what we told u”
not to trust them
get up, move on
keep studying, harder, nothing’s wrong
run faster & faster
talk louder & faster
think smarter & faster
get over it faster
send it up in smoke in silence
dress better, drink water
false bursts of endorphins
keeping us going
till the night
when we can’t sleep
so we write
till the night
is over
3)
a few years ago a true hero.
i went to Costa Rica saving me from my skin
i saw some birds “your dress is so exotic
some bugs can i wear it on my date?”
some flowers “those forehead gems r so exotic,
unusual can i have some for this rave?”
colors u made fun of holi
peculiar but now have color run in san jose
sounds u want the pretty dresses,
alluring music, “henna tattoos”
scents naan bread & butter chicken
exotic when u claim to love indian food
exotic like you called but u make fun of me
my accent when i was young when i talk to my parents
exotic was the word you used ask me if my house smells
to describe my mother tongue like curry
“exotic” was your quasi polite way if i’m going to be
of describing a doctor, engineer, or lawyer
my homemade lunch tell me
but I saw how your nose wrinkled “don’t go in the sun
as u scooted slightly away you’ll become more black!”
“exotic” is what you whispered and laugh
with your hands covering your mouths because it’s just a joke
when u asked me if i just tanned too much right?
and i said i was always this color ask me why i would ever visit india
i was too “exotic”, you said isn’t it dirty?
as to why I couldn’t be in ur club isn’t it poor?
you were sure I was very “aren’t u scared you’ll get raped?”
“interesting” “wasn’t slumdog millionaire, like,
but not sure how well I’d a documentary about india?”
belong u want everything good
“you’re so beautiful,” from my country and my culture
i almost smile but ur thoughts r still bad
but I keep reading ur message exotic is what u say
expecting the inevitable line: because u don’t understand
“some guys don’t like brown girls u think it’s a compliment
but I do. white girls are boring, but it means outlandish
not exotic like u.” and weird
like i’m supposed to what’s weird is that u think this
thank you? tho we both live in the same state
feel grateful that u and the only thing that’s exotic?
like me? is the idea of being friends with u.
–a spoken word about fetishisation and cultural appropriation
4)
when you’re a little indian kid, ur classmates make fun of your lunch that “looks weird” and “smells weird” and “why don’t u eat meat?” when you’re a little indian kid, u mix up ur “v’s’ and “w’s,” and “weather” is “vether” & “violin” is “wiolin.” “ear” becomes “year” and ur teacher tells you to stop putting unnecessary “u’s” in ur papers, but to u, “colour” & “color” r two different words. actually, “color” just looks wrong. u don’t play parcheesi, u play ludo, and u play it differently, but everyone says it’s wrong. they say the american way is right, and that doesn’t make sense to u, because it’s just a game, but there’s more of them than u, and u can’t isolate everyone. some girls say u can’t play with them because ur brown, like that’s a bad thing, and u feel like maybe it’s a bad thing, but it’s confusing because these same girls talk about tanning & which tanning lotion to use & sun in. all the dolls r white and the dolls that have darker skin are ugly, carelessly made, & no one wants to buy them, & none of them look like u. sometimes u say “fust” instead of “first,” and over the years, that changes, and when u go back to india, and u say “first” instead of “fust,” they laugh at ur american accent & the hard “r.” girls glare, men leer, people say ur not a real indian. but ur also not american.
–on belonging to two places, or rather, not belonging
You can find the book these pieces are from here!
Header art by me.
