Degradation of a race
Black hair, black skin, black eyes,
Square face, square teeth, square chin,
Fleshy breasts, fleshy back and fleshy lips
Are features of Dravidian descendents.
Pale hair, pale skin, pale eyes,
Long face, long teeth, long nose,
Thin chest, thin locks and thin lips
Are features of Aryan descendents.
The former is flesh eating, lustful,
Emotion ridden and industrious.
The latter is grass-eating, lust tamed,
Manoeuvring and goal conscious.
Siva, Parvathi, Kali with Asuras
Are portrayed with Dravidian features.
Rama, Krishna, Lakshmi, Sarasvathi
With devas are of Aryan features.
All Itikas, Puranas and Epics depict thus.
They are held as holy scriptures
By both the races alike.
08.10.2000, Paralkemundi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Supremacy is the beauty
Chubby lips, plump cheeks, massive breasts, fleshy buttocks,
Blunt nose, hairy skin, coarse hair and black eyes
Are the features the Dravidians inherited from the Negros.
Thin lips, flat cheeks, rounded breasts, slated buttocks,
Long nose, pale skin, silky hair and brown eyes
Are the features Aryan inherited from the White race.
Aryans are held beautiful by their cultural supremacy.
30.11.2000, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Irony of Things
It is an irony to believe that Ayothya
Is the birth place of Rama, as by the time
When Rama lived around 1450 B.C.,
Aryans never crossed Punjab or beyond.
It is an irony to say that Mathura
Is the birth place of Krishna, as by the time
When Krishna lived around 900 B.C.,
Aryans never reached up to Mathura.
It is an irony to establish that Durga,
A Dravidian origin, fostered later by Aryans,
Is the destroyer of Sura padman,
An asura, a co-dravidian, among Dravidians.
It is an irony that the very Dravidian
Movement has landed in the hand of a Brahmin
And then at a hand who too had mortgaged the interest
To Aryan for sake of his dynasty.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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A World of Diversity
The world is a spicy pot of diverse races
that exhibits colours pleasant on different faces.
Each race revealing features distinct and unique
of varying hair texture but uniform physique.
Oh yes, you know undoubtedly that I am black.
But still my black heritage does not prestige lack
because my black beauty is revealed in the dark.
Oh yes, you all know that I am Caucasian white,
with my magnificent ocean blue eyes for sight.
I am blonde, brunette and red haired with fair skin light.
Oh yes, you know that I am oriental yellow,
having traits distinct that nature itself did bestow.
We look alike but vary from fellow to fellow.
Oh yes, you know I'm middle-eastern or Indian brown.
I adore my skin tanned and hair black as a crown.
I have a pleasant heritage of Asian renown.
poem by Joseph C Ogbonna (9 May 2022)
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black as night, Elvyra
Watch out they'll say,
she'll come and get you,
black as night Elvyra,
will take your soul,
leaving you with nothing,
you'll never see another,
as dark and souless as her,
you wait and see,
i know what they'll say of me,
black as night Elvyra
They'll say she dances,
with the devil,
that she plays with fire,
that black as nite Elvyra,
you wait and see,
i know what they'll say of me,
Black as night Elvyra
look at her they'll say,
how dark with doom and gloom,
black as night elvyra,
look at her face,
pale as pale,
her black lips,
her black eyes too,
you wait and see,
i know what they'll say of me,
Black as night Elvyra
skinny and pale they'll say,
with raven black hair to opose,
Black as night Elvyra,
she knows your secrets,
whispers from your depths,
watch out for me,
you wait and see,
I'm Black as night Elvyra
poem by Jess Terry
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90
your eyes in that picture insist on asking why
well, i was yet 15 but i already keep a photograph of you
in my pocket,
you are the face of my heart beat in black and white
i often kiss your tiny lips and put you on my chest
as though i feel you one with me
in my sleep,
that was long time ago and the picture suffered
with the way i was keeping it
inside my old poetry books
in those pages eaten by bookworms
some scratches ultimately
are inflicted in your cheeks
and even your lips
have become empty spaces
blurred by time
what keeps insistent however are your eyes
stripped of a nose and lips and even a neck
thriving on lesser hair
and thin ears
they float in that picture
still looking at me
asking
why?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Handsome Man
i am a handsome face
long black hair
aquiline nose
slim body
kissable lips
sharp eyes
white teeth
smooth brown skin
lean and muscular body
i promise you nothing
i have no time
and i do not know what
love is
i am the vagabond of
this earth
a wanderer of its bosom
no one owns me
and i own no one.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Your Eyes In That Picture Insist On Asking Why
well, i was yet 15 but i already keep a photograph of you
in my pocket,
you are the face of my heart beat in black and white
i often kiss your tiny lips and put you on my chest
as though i feel you one with me
in my sleep,
that was long time ago and the picture suffered
with the way i was keeping it
inside my old poetry books
in those pages eaten by bookworms
some scratches ultimately
are inflicted in your cheeks
and even your lips
have become empty spaces
blurred by time
what keeps insistent however are your eyes
stripped of a nose and lips and even a neck
thriving on lesser hair
and thin ears
they float in that picture
still looking at me
asking
why?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Bolton
Black skin,
Black eye,
Black hair,
Black lips,
Black tail! !
A small one,
A long one,
With the blue of the sky and,
The green of the grass!
And within time and patience,
And like the elephants at the seaside;
But, Bolton is here to teach you.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Grammar of beauty
The stress long, jet black, tightly plaited,
The eyes, fish like, black, brows blackened,
The face, moon shaped, yellow, with red lips,
And the bosom massive were once of beauty.
Jewels and silk in profuse adorned every part.
Short cut, dishevelled, unoiled is the hair,
Eyes and lips are kept in subdue with out paints,
The face of any shape, stripped of blush,
And the toned body are now taken for beauty.
Coarse garments without jewels adorn.
With the yellow skin, also came in dusky skin.
Plumpness went out and thinness came in.
Why is this somersault in beauty grammar?
Fashion is invented by the upper one and
Is caught by others to identify with the upper
02.10.2000, Vijayavada
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The lady in the black lace
The lady in the black lace
~
draped in black lace she slept
her skin soft, pale to the eye
the room dimly lit bathed in silence
a beautiful serenity eclipsed
the portrait laid before the eye
her hair blonde, lay across her shoulder
stark contrast to the red of the chair
upon which she soundly slept
a story unfolded into thought
did she mourn or sleep in peace
would that pale skin be cold to the touch
through the thin black of the fabric
or warm blooded with desire
a passion of the artistry itself
what little light covered the room
cast shadows about her
framing this work of art
this beautiful woman in lace
slept as though at peace
poem by Matthew Holloway
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Characteristics of People
Long hair,
Short hair
Dark or light,
Black or white
Small or full lips,
Thin or wide hips
Blue eyes,
Brown eyes
Skinny or fat,
This or that
Everyone has one or another,
Wether it's from themselves
Or their father or mother.
poem by Jessica Goudreault
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Beauty is not in colours
Black hair is nice, but not black teeth.
White teeth are nice, but not whit hair.
Red lips are nice, but not red eyes.
Black eyes are nice, but not black lips.
Beauty is not in colours;
Beauty is in the concepts.
25.05.2012
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Mysterious Girl
There is a girl
With long black hair
With her big grey eyes
People can’t help but stare
Her beauty leaves a trace
Every time she walks by
She’s filled with magnificence
Such splendor you cannot deny
With her tall and fit body
She can blow fire off
As she walks past a crowd
Others can’t help but scoff
Her loveliness is admired by everyone
But her charm is envious by most women
By the way she dresses and walks
Her features are adored and gleamin’
Everything about her is stunning
She’s every girl and woman’s wanna be
Yet people did not know
That that girl with long black hair
And big grey eyes
Is me...
poem by Marria Attar
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An island beauty
A tiny frame, as high as
Five feet and three inches,
So elegant, so supple,
Weighing thirty-five kilograms,
So youthful, so tender,
At her two and twenty,
Pleasant but not extravagant,
She stunned me at first sight.
Square face, square forehead,
Square jaw, square shoulders,
And square nose on thin frame,
She had changed
The grammar of beauty.
A Mongolian beauty.
Unobtrusive breast and
Un-ejecting buttocks
Added only colour to her
Bravado looks.
Her velvet hairs, plaited, tucked
Above and pinned atop,
Baring the lemon nape,
Is an Ajenta in drawings.
She commanded my respect.
She summoned my reverence.
But for she, called Zeenas,
My three days sea voyage
Might be a waste.
Long live, the poor Maldivian.
25.12.99
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Cirque
Alone in a dark room
A figure sits
A woman
A girl
Bedraggled hair
White face
Red lips
Scarred
Arms crossed over her chest
X
Clasping each shoulder
Lightly
As though afraid to touch
One hand shakes
Quivers
All she can hear is
Razor blades over a violin
Screech
Her hair is wrinkled
Wet
Like her lips
Chapped and red
Glistening
She’s not in pain
She giggles
Insane
Looks up
Dark eyes
Circled in black
Sunken like pits
Hair, so pale,
It could be green
Dress of purple
Lilac
Fuchsia
Her arms unfold
Her smile widens
Into Glaswegian
She runs her tongue
Across her teeth
Like she’s hungry
“Smile, much? ”
She’ll giggle
As she unveils a knife
poem by Rebecca Kate Summers
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Live in Hope
Green eyes and long red hair,
pale skin and a freckled face.
A huge smile and infectious laugh,
and lips that I’d love to taste.
Deep breaths and racing heart
excite me when she’s near.
Perhaps if she looked my way
she may realise I’m here.
poem by Orlando Belo
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Gothic Angel
Beautiful raven black hair with red streaks
Compliments her pale white heart shaped face
Encases the jeweled blue eyes
Her long Tripp pants rattle as she walks away
The black and red striped top hugs her upper body
Black platform boots make heavy footfalls, fingerless gloves warm her
One day she hopes to get her fluffy black wings
And what she wants the most: her black halo
Then and only then will she truly be a gothic angel
poem by Justina Nicole Haner
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Picasso Youth Mask
youth glazed
green brown
clay framed red
absorb emotion
features contort
experiences run
brow flat lip twist
nose master hairline
forehead eyebrows sight
hair to neck curve straight
above eyes below hairline
world will raw face stiff chin
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Square Peg, Round Hole
He's a square peg in a round hole
Misfit in a slick world
Don't play the game
Don't do what he's told
He's a square peg in a round hole
Square peg don't care
The bright lights he's not there
Catch the shadows see him slip away
Square peg that's what they say
Square peg, Suare peg
Square peg, you have got to be strong
Square peg, he's got his own song
Square peg, I'll see you around
Square peg, face down
Square peg, round hole
song performed by by Chris Rea
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Watching
You sat intrigued
by the way
the old woman
spooned her soup
sitting in the cafe
all by herself.
She had a bread roll
broken up
on a side plate
and fingered it
into her mouth
in between
mouthfuls of soup.
You watched
unnoticed by her
like some voyeur
studying some woman
undressing
from a nearby room
through binoculars
hidden in the dark.
You studied
her wrinkled features
the way the mouth
opened and closed
the fingers
with screwed up skin
fingered the roll.
Someone spoke to her
as they went by
on their way out.
Yes see you lovey
she said in a voice
that seemed to disown
the features and face.
You guessed
she must have been
some beauty once
and had men
gawking at her
for her looks and hair
with lustful stares
as she made her way
with a sexy wiggle
and show of leg
up a flight of stairs.
poem by Terry Collett
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