This Brown Skin

I see the way you look at me,
With pity in your eyes,
I see the hatred in your gaze-
But this brown skin, it’s a prize.

I feel the disgust you throw my way,
It’s really hard to miss…
But this brown skin, it is evidence-
Of the Sun’s loving kiss.

I will still go out and play,
And if I get “duskier”, then that’s fine-
This mahogany wood, it gleams and glows,
These desert sands, they shine.

The colour of my skin is perfect-
And trust me, yours is too,
This darkness, it’s beautiful-
And deemed ugly, by who?

Hey, guys!! How’s it going? Normally, I try to explain the meaning behind my poems in this section. But there’s not really all that much to say for this one, is there?? Dark or light or salt white…The colour of your skin does not matter. It’s l i t e r a l l y just a difference in melanin.

Well, that’s all!! Have a FAB day!!

stay sticky,

In Burgundy

“Fantasy is hardly an escape from reality. It’s a way of understanding it.”
― Lloyd Alexander

Under a temporal roof, does
This tale take place.
When they refused to stand
For fear of falling,
In Burgundy, we chased the stars.

Forgotten thoughts left to oscillate
Between realms unknown, were all we were.
As daisies* withered
Under stares of scrutiny,
In Burgundy we blossomed.

Victims of hope, were we
Who challenged gods and fate.
In wars for change and progress,
As we lost fragmentary pages to the wind,
In Burgundy we defied paths unknown yet.

Akin to the setting sun
Of time, we were in dearth.
Whispers left unspoken
Drowned love, that ran out of people.
All the while Burgundy sewed stitches ten .

In Burgundy, life goes on
Fueled by the fluid of passion
That runs deep in our roots.
In Burgundy, children speak
For their dreams and desires.
In Burgundy does hope reside
For beats here, the heart of the just.

“Fantasy is escapist, and that is its glory. If a soldier is imprisioned by the enemy, don’t we consider it his duty to escape?. . .If we value the freedom of mind and soul, if we’re partisans of liberty, then it’s our plain duty to escape, and to take as many people with us as we can!”
― J.R.R. Tolkien

*Daisies symbolize innocence and purity.

Quick note: My friend, Diamond @ Build A Bears Furever is hosting a photostory contest to observe her fourth blogiversary! The best part is, you get to choose which of her bears play your characters (if you want) and believe me when I say, she’s got all sorts of bears with different outlooks and personalities! I’d absolutely love it if you could check out this post and participate!

And today is March 21, World Poetry Day! “World Poetry Day is celebrated on 21 March, and was declared by UNESCO in 1999, “with the aim of supporting linguistic diversity through poetic expression and increasing the opportunity for endangered languages to be heard” {Wikipedia}

Poetry is an ethereal form of expression and an embodiment of beauty, a free channel of speech, open and accessible to all. It isn’t all writing; akin to how Walt Whitman says in his poem, The Voice of the Rain; that rain is the earth’s poem, poetry is around us in all forms of beauty. I’m so thankful for all the wonderful poets I’ve met here and whose books I’ve read. Keep writing and inspiring!

Thoughtfully yours,
Introverted Thoughts aka D

Nocturnal Luminosity

The darker the night, the brighter the stars,
The deeper the grief, the closer is God!
― Fyodor Dostoevsky, Crime and Punishment

It was beginning. With each second that passed, the darker the night became, capturing the silken night sky in all of its magnificence. The sky, home to stars, whose light shone through millennia, to make an appearance today, and the moon, ethereal in her flawed beauty.

She could feel her withered nerves, rising slowly, with all their might, as her heart finally found a purpose to beat. The rhythm penetrated skin, that had for long, sustained abuse at the hands of insecurity and fear. It flowed, syncing with the melody of the night; and dripped like honey, into the darkest reaches of her soul, dancing in perfect symphony to the song of despair.

It was the possibility of darkness that made the day seem so bright.
― Stephen King, Wolves of the Calla

Sprinkling hope and rejuvenating misplaced faith, lost purpose was revived as it broke open the shell that confined it for so long. She thrived in the darkness, embracing her new born soul, realising that life had dropped her in its treacherous depths, so that it could pick her back up, when she realised the beauty of the dark times. She was broken and shattered when she entered the prism of life’s fallacies, only to emerge purer and stronger than ever before.

It was a brief moment of incredibly small significance but the little flame of hope that arose from it, was more than enough to light the path ahead. Not wanting to lose its magic, completely aware she would have no memory of it the next day, she retired for the night, signing her letter of resilience to the heavens. Because giving up was not an option.

I love the silent hour of night,
For blissful dreams may then arise,
Revealing to my charmed sight
What may not bless my waking eyes.
― Anne Brontë, Best Poems of the Brontë Sisters

I sought to write something that was relevant to the current situation but as a wonderful blogger helped me realise the last time, every reader perceives everything in their own unique manner. As such, I look forward to hearing your take on this!

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Natural Nocturnality

Thank you so much for reading!

Natural Nocturnality

“Night is purer than day; it is better for thinking, loving and dreaming. At night everything is more intense, more true. The echo of words that have been spoken during the day takes on a new and deeper meaning.”
 Elie Wiesel, Dawn

I’ve always been a bit of a night owl. But I’ve always thought that it was a weird term because owls are nocturnal birds. The ‘night’ before ‘owl’ seems hardly necessary.

I don’t stay up late just because I feel more productive or enthusiastic. I stay up late because I enjoy the serenity the night has to offer and the sheer beauty of the night sky. I love how the night is fair and just to everyone and everything. I’ve always marvelled at the fact that the trees that boast of their green beauty end up looking blacker than the night sky after the sun sets. If you ask me, that’s when trees look their absolute best.

“I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.”
― Sarah Williams

It calms me down every time I lay my eyes on the moon and the tranquility…..Oh, it’s worth staying up late just for that moment of raw peace. I love working against the dark silence playing my favourite songs in the background. I find it exciting to be awake when everybody else slumbers.

But of course, the main reason to stay up late is because of the view the clear sky offers at about midnight or so. The stars look mesmerising and I sometimes stay up late just to enjoy their company. I don’t have to be afraid of either side feeling awkward of the silence because that is what the stars and I love. Moreover, the fact that they’re not even of this earth and that they’re millions of light years away is just fascinating.

“Night is certainly more novel and less profane than day.”
― Henry David Thoreau

Yes, I am a night owl and I love being one. The night is when I get to be myself, when I don’t have to hide what I feel, when I don’t have to fake anything because I know I’m truly alone and that there’s no one that I need to convince. The night to me, is synonymous with peace, tranquility and freedom.