Putting a Face on Love
Secretly,
I'd often wonder
what you saw
when you looked
at me...
Did you see silvered
lengths of hair and
time-worn skin
stretched thin
with living,
or did you see youth
dressed in black tresses
with eyes of green
laughing,
softly,
at life's
irony...
and I'd always realize,
if love had a face
it would be yours ~
every contour,
curve, and shadow
searing my memory
with radiant
light ~
burning their imprint
upon my skin
with eyes of
brown.
poem by Hazelmarie Elliott
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Related quotes
Brown Skin
Brown skin, you know I love your brown skin
I cant tell where yours begins, I cant tell where mine ends
Brown skin, up against my brown skin
Need some every now and thenoh hey
Where are your people from? maybe mississippi or an island
Apparently your skin has been kissed by the sun
You make me want a hersheys kiss, your licorice
Every time I see your lips, it makes me think of honey-coated chocolate
Your kisses are worth more than gold to me
Ill be your almond joy, youll be my sugar daddy
Brown skin, you know I love your brown skin
I cant tell where yours begins, I cant tell where mine ends
Brown skin, up against my brown skin
Need some every now and thenoh hey
Every time you come around, something magnetic pulls me and I cant get out
Disoriented, I cant tell my up from down
All I know is that I wanna lay you down
Every time I let you in, abracadabra magic happens as we swim
Higher and higher finally we reach heaven
Come back to earth and then we do it all again
Yeah..
Brown skin, you know I love your brown skin
I cant tell where yours begins, I cant tell where mine ends
Brown skin, up against my brown skin
Need some every now and thenoh hey
Skin so brown, lips so round
Baby how can I be down?
Beautiful mahogany, you make me feel like a queen
Tell me whats that thing you do that makes me wanna get next to you, yeah
Brown skin, you know I love your brown skin
I cant tell where yours begins, I cant tell where mine ends
Brown skin, up against my brown skin
Need some every now and thenoh hey
Brown skin, you know I love your brown skin
I cant tell where yours begins, I cant tell where mine ends
Brown skin, up against my brown skin
Need some every now and thenoh hey
song performed by by India Arie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Encountering A Black Memory
Encountering one dark black memory,
As the Wind eternally whispers to me.
In another time, at this special place,
We were dressed in leather and lace.
Many times I have made my way back,
Searching for a memory turned black.
In search of our encounter by chance,
Where by firelight we once did dance.
By moon’s light with fire burning dim,
In the refreshing water we would swim.
A time I wished would be without end,
Chilled we held each other skin-to-skin.
From the chilling water to the fireside.
Blanket wrapped one another we eyed.
Without uttering speech our eyes spoke,
As we kindled love’s fire without smoke.
Until morning our spirits became as one,
When back to your mate you had to run.
Time did pass and the years they did go,
The view seen here now I hardly know.
All night long, returning with the dew,
I send forth my spirit searching for you.
poem by Joseph Blitch
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Skin Hair
Skin Hair…
Where else does the earth rise?
settle down with a fall,
cover with strand...
after other strand,
of hair curl,
loom adversely,
along the length,
along the breadth....
of a man, woman
where it is delicate, where it is private...
pronounced an' concealed.
on the face above the eyes,
like a brush of feathers,
above the lip,
a moustache…
eloquently trim,
tweezed eye browses,
hair flock grace the neck,
onto the back.
Along the shin,
Along the skin,
Smooth touch rendered,
Chill rising the hair follicles,
Desire burn,
In the shower wet with soap,
Silk fiber strand,
Run through fingers of a lover,
Relishing the sensations erect,
Tiny hair, almost as fur…
Souring along the back,
Trough upon the skin,
Collect scent of a love scene.
The skin here dark,
Chocolate born,
Wind caress these, both hair an' skin
Creature so supreme,
Conquer all but this, delicate
Feather brush of skin against skin,
Hair rise here thin,
Space of a love gaze seen,
Hair on skin….
poem by Merlin Mwaura
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Skin Hair…
Skin Hair…
Where else does the earth rise?
settle down with a fall,
cover with strand...
after other strand,
of hair curl,
loom adversely,
along the length,
along the breadth....
of a man, woman
where it is delicate, where it is private...
pronounced an' concealed.
on the face above the eyes,
like a brush of feathers,
above the lip,
a moustache…
eloquently trim,
tweezed eye browses,
hair flock grace the neck,
onto the back.
Along the shin,
Along the skin,
Smooth touch rendered,
Chill rising the hair follicles,
Desire burn,
In the shower wet with soap,
Silk fiber strand,
Run through fingers of a lover,
Relishing the sensations erect,
Tiny hair, almost as fur…
Souring along the back,
Trough upon the skin,
Collect scent of a love scene.
The skin here dark,
Chocolate born,
Wind caress these, both hair an' skin
Creature so supreme,
Conquer all but this, delicate
Feather brush of skin against skin,
Hair rise here thin,
Space of a love gaze seen,
Hair on skin….
poem by Merlin Mwaura
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ines
I saw that glance
As you looked back
Your eyes so brown
Your hair so black.
Those perfect lips
A sculptors dream
That oval face
Your skin like cream
You hair like silk
Down that sweet back
I wish you'd looked
At me like that!
Copyright © Res John Burman 2009
poem by Res John Burman
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Laughing In The Lilies
I see your face laughing in the Lilies,
Golden skin shining like the sun,
Eyes bright and full of fun,
Green hills surround us,
Beauty abounds in all I see,
Your heart makes me happy, you see,
Yours is a sensitive soul, it matches my own,
In your eyes I see glimpses of me,
In times of peace, just happy to be!
The breeze lifts your hair,
The sun caresses your skin, very fair,
To me there is no longer a care,
I think I would like to stay here, with you,
Will the world call me from your frocks?
Can we really be at one again?
How long has it been, sight unseen?
Too long, it is time to redeem!
8 May 2012
poem by David Andre' Klopper
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Half my father
Half my father
Half my mother
My mother white as a ghost
My father black as coal
In my face the mixture glows
My skin is white
Still I am a black man
By the make of my nose
My hair is curly
My eyes are gray
Within me both if them lives
My mother’s race
Did enslave
My father’s race
Was never paid.
Still within I bare the two
Am O the new American?
My father is white
My mother is Korean
They met during the war
And I was born
Their only son
By my tone of skin
And by my eyes
You can tell
That there is a divide
And by my blonde hair
It is there for you to spy
Am I the new American?
My mother is German
My father polish
I learned three languages
As I grew older
Both of them
Did love me well
And of each country did tell
That I could draw
From each well
Am I the new American?
My father is Chinese
My mother Spanish
Both crossed over the Rio Grand
I am in the make of my father
But I have my mother’s brown skin
Am I the new American?
poem by David E. Patton
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My Chocolate Brown
My chocolate brown I'd dip you in honey's hive
give you the shades of brown aligned in your skin
even there
even then
We fade in the highest air
I want us to be particles known only to us
My chocolate brown
you curve the windows of me at 17
17 could not i resist
You linger on me skin
I smell you when I
out
in
breathe
When thinking of you I winced in between
I 17
not been had but you had me
every way but physically
Dark eyes
I exchange you the moon
every encounter
Chocolate brown
Chocolate brown
It's me you woo
melodic notes
I sing
I pronounce you the key
I fall for you
irresponsibly
poem by Urshula Davis
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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He calls me Honky.
My friend’s as black as ebony
and he delights in teasing me.
He says I am the coloured man
I can’t deny it no one can.
My hair is blond my eyes are blue.
His words are obviously true,
My facial skin is pink and white.
to anyone with normal sight
His eyes, his hair and skin are black
I cannot counter his attack
But he’s my mate so I don’t care
His banter isn’t hard to bear
We’re much the same bar for our skin.
What matters most must lie within.
Monday,16 November 2009
Http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Have hues a role?
Grass lends beauty to ‘green’;
Tooth lends beauty to ‘white’;
Sky lends beauty to ‘blue’.
So do lips to ‘red’.
Red lips excel red blood;
Brown horse excel brown ass;
Yellow gold excels yellow brass.
So does black hair, black skin.
Black hair yields to white hair;
Green meadow yields to gray one.
Brown curls yield to fallen leaves
So does tender skin to one wrinkled.
The stuff rules; the merit rules;
The young rules. Have hues a role?
13.03.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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White Skin Black Heart
Yeah, whatcha gonna do now, now that you started?
Whatcha gonna do now, now that its done?
The words got out there, they float around and are coming right back down.
You gonna leave us lying here
Dealing with the consequences of a bad sound
Of a bad sound.
White skin black heart
White skin black heart
Whatcha gonna do now, that its spoken?
These words of a habit, have not faded away.
.................... it clear, conscious gets opened like a wound.
If you cant concieve a better line and better times,
Then let silence bury you, in the end.
When you feel it, when you feel it
Youre condemned.
You see, youve lost your strangle on the freedom road! you
Think ........................of something a long time ago! you
[spewed it out you were so] insecure! it was like ............. on
The toilet floor! youre a [nine seat] drunk, ............... and
You say you want something, .......... you heard the rednecks
Roaring for blood and then they wanted more! life was so small, you
Couldnt get enough. you made a start.
White skin black heart
Dripping,
White skin black heart
White skin black heart
White skin black heart
White skin black heart
Drag your eyes from [aurora] black heart!
White skin black heart
Drag your leg, get outta here [my sight]!
White skin black heart
White skin black heart
White skin black heart
White skin black heart
You didnt have to start
White skin black heart
White skin black heart
song performed by by Midnight Oil
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Skin Cannot Hide!
black skin,
...white skin,
.....red skin,
.......brown skin....
human beating hearts!
...red blood, needs and wants,
.....all breathing,
........the same air!
diverse souls,
...unified spirit!
coming from darkness
.....into the light,
wrapped in different packages,
....all by the same hand,
small pieces of the universe,
...crying out to be joined!
skin cannot hide God's reflection!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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All Different, But Still The Same
Some people have short hair, some have long.
Some people have thick hair; some people’s hair is all gone.
Some people have black hair, some have gray.
Some people have brown hair, some blonde, some red.
Some people’s hair a color unsaid.
Some people are short, some people are tall.
Some people will love you; some won’t like you at all.
Some people like hot weather, some like cold.
Some people are timid, some people are bold.
Some people have dark skin, some people have light.
Some people have black skin, some people have white.
Some people eat meat; some won’t touch it at all.
Some people have a good memory, some can’t recall.
Some people accept Christ, some never will.
Some people are stingy, some people give.
Some people like school, some people don’t.
Some people will excel, some people won’t.
Some people smoke cigarettes, some never will.
Some people are honest, some people steal.
Some people have book knowledge;
But don’t know the Holy Book.
Some people burn food, some people can cook.
Some people are old, some people are young.
Some people do smart things, some people do dumb.
Some people just have a diploma
Some people have degrees.
Some people do things slow, some with a breeze.
Some people are complainers, some easy to please.
Some people hate shopping, some stay in the mall.
Some people hate God, but God loves us all.
We are all different, but still the same.
When I get cut, I bleed red;
You get cut, red blood you’ll shed.
Some people are plump, some people are thin.
But we are all the same, we’re all human being.
Copyright © 2010-Phyllis Strong
poem by Phyllis Strong
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A Handkerchief Surrenders
If I can but see
those reaching arms before me,
feel flat against my chest
your welcoming breasts;
for me this would content.
If I could but feel
that dizzying quivering
your touch makes,
that for me would content.
If I can see
my own soul stirrings
in your beckoning eyes,
my contour
fitting your contour
perfectly,
I'd sigh
the perfect sigh.
So close we;
paper thin
the space between;
that all points of contact
blend
smooth skin
against smooth skin.
.
Give me your handkerchief;
wave it
before me;
and here is mine
in sweet
surrender,
buffeted
by that perfect breeze;
my
and your
deep breathing
brings.
mutually;
handkerchiefed.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Not Always What We Seek
After you'd got on
the school bus
and sat down
in one of the side seats
Jane said
who did you fight with
in the playground
lunchtime?
Woolgar
you said
he pushed me over
against the wire fence
and I got up
and went for him
she looked disappointed
I didn't think
you could be violent
she said
I'm not usually
but it was an automatic
response to being
pushed over
you said
my daddy said
one should turn
the other cheek
especially if you're a Christian
she said softly
the school bus
started up
and took off down
the school drive
sorry
you said
but the creep
got under my skin
and if you let them
get away with it once
they'll always do it
she gazed at you
then out
of the window
at the passing shops
and buildings
of the town
were you watching?
you asked
yes I saw you
from the girl's playground
she muttered
not looking round
guess it looked
kind of bad
yes it did
she turned
and looked at you
but at least
you don't do it
all the time
she said
and touched
your hand
with hers
and you felt sad
inside that you'd
made her feel like that
and you saw
how lovely her
dark eyes were
how there seemed
to be a mini universe
in them with their own
galaxies and stars
and moons
next time I'll think twice
you said
before hitting
the other boy
she nodded
and smiled
and her hand
squeezed yours
her skin soft and warm
her hair black
and drawn back
into a ponytail
sitting there
beside you
her grey school skirt
and jumper
and white blouse
the neck open
the sight
of her throat
and you wanting
to kiss but not doing so
her neck
her skin
the feel
of her hair
against your cheek
sometimes
you thought
we can't have
what we seek.
poem by Terry Collett
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Brilliantine
This hair,
They never looked her way,
Never understood from where she came
And digressed on the story of the grease
In her hair.
There was none.
They never touched her face,
Looked her way,
Nor saw importance in the moment
When she needed one
To hold her hand.
Or take the time for her
When it was called for.
It was the glossy brilliantine.
And the hidden styling.
The face again,
Which had the tendency to glance away.
And the hair which had no grease.
The clear hair that shone of cleanliness
In the light of the dirty windows.
The brown hair
Giving importance to the chrome
Of her eyes.
But they never looked away,
Digressing on the story of the grease
In her hair.
poem by Sammy Edrisi
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I Am... (Human Heart Beating)
i am...
the silent tomb that has no face.
the burnt edges of the holy book.
the hand that fits the yearning hand.
the light inside the shadow.
the cross carried without a murmur.
the house built out of simple things.
the grandchild, and the old dog.
the plane dropping medicine
instead of bombs.
the oil rig shut down and deserted.
moonlight on the ocean calm.
straw huts burning with devouring fire.
lines of women and children going nowhere.
the stock market crash, and the day after.
big trucks shut down, and markets bare.
familes joined together to share the little.
the wind crying freedom's hidden name.
white skin, brown skin, black skin one.
the human heart beating, red and raw!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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