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CRAYON

CRAYON

A Poem by Tha Wind AKA VERBAL OX
"

an oldie...

"

 
ethnicity cloaked
in a cotton top coat.
don't ask...
won't tell...
she got it from Clinton

her last name may
give you...pause
then
the
thought of it
just fades away
like a
long applause.

a ocean of emotions
swirl & swirls
to a...perfect storm
that crashes
just beneath
surface.

she stands lost
in the western woods.

As a 1st generation
Americano.

Mrs. Chameleon
blends & meshes in
all the right
schoolastic cliques an clubs,

yet feeling as though
she's the only grain of pepper
in a ocean of salt

at recess...
she recesses what has her so depressed
off an running
often runnin
she runs as if
the chime of the
bell makes her
feel...
freeded liberation...

straight to
the box.

were the
love of the
cool, coarse
tan sand
up against her
milky skin.
lets her
escape again.

within the
confinds of her
2nd mind she's
no longer
lost & alone.
her imagination
emerges from
its coccon...

chanting low...

"if only
i was brown...
Mother Mary..."
"if only i was brown...
if only...
if...only...
i was brown...
maybe i could
stop droppin
piggy banks
in fountains
wishin 4 color
& fallin to my
knees ritually prayin
4 colo
r..."

you see...
the only brown
she see's
is in her enviroment
& on T.V.

touching the trunk
of a tree.
"is this what it feels like
to be brown."

changing channels
on the tele
"is that what i have 2 say
...
is that what i have 2 do...
to be brown."

The diluted innocence of a child...

her native tongue
1st
unfamiliar...
then foreign.

abuela
was her
only connection to the
past...& now she's passed.

the umbilical cord
for what lyed before.

severed...

no more food
for thought
to enrich her
soul.

fall
was her favorite
time of the year.
because
she could see
more brotha an sista leaves

of brown.

then comes old fat man winter
layn sheets of blanco
upon the land
 
reminescent of her skin
cold an unrevealing

in the fall...
her vibe stayed
vibrant & wonderous
like the colors,
an she would wonder
along the pond an ponder...
"why not the
outside of me...
why not me..."

as the years fold over
she even felt
her body
giving over
to help perpetuate
the illusionary lie,
with the lack of
curvaious curves
.

the erosion
of heritage
leads to malnutrition
caused from
cerebral anorexia.

no language,
customs,
or self identity
to hold her grounded
widen
s the chasm.

she wants not
history...,his-story...
she wants
herstory.

now...
I find myself
pondering & wondering
if she has a
baby girl
would she name
her

"Autum"...
 
 
Thank you
for the book
"All things Censored"
&...
free Mumia...

Paz con Amor...



 
 
 
 
 
 
4 fingers & a pen poetry.


© 2009 Tha Wind AKA VERBAL OX



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Reviews

Really great piece. I love how fluid it is, and you told this woman's story absolutely brilliantly. You're very talented, wonderful work!

-Howl

Posted 9 Years Ago


touching the trunk
of a tree.
"is this what it feels like
to be brown."

I could see this part in a children's book.

Children often feel lost. So young, and so easy to be molded into something they are not. Or they long to be something they are not. It's so hard to find that place where they are comfortable with themselves, if their surroundings make them "different".

Some of this made me giggle, but other parts really made me feel for her.

I've always loved your delivery. You are the master of word manipulation. Words transform to be the exact tool you need.

Kudos... many kudos.

Posted 9 Years Ago


I've been missing your words and you gave me some to knaw on I like this.
Not saying that cause your my Herbal Cow but because this is good. The
subject is one that is implied more then it is talked about. So many people
from different countries, languages, family histories all in one place trying
to be apart of a melting pot. I like the journey you led us on in this woman's
life and struggle with her identity:

changing channels
on the tele
"is that what i have 2 say...
is that what i have 2 do...
to be brown."

So true had a white girl tell me once that she's more black then
me cause she listens to Lil Wayne, I felt supa bad for her and all
people who think that being black is earned. Like in order to have
my skin or be included in our 'group' you have to mix the following
ingredients together and bake on 375 degrees for 1 hour. I feel this
I got you....raw writer.

Posted 9 Years Ago



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3 Reviews
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Added on March 19, 2009
Last Updated on April 23, 2009

Author

Tha Wind AKA VERBAL OX
Tha Wind AKA VERBAL OX

Chicago, IL, Belize



About
luv livin life through all its adventures an strife more..

Writing