Unison in defining skin, reckless beings with assumed profanities
Deeply ripped and dug with presumptuous subconscious drilling,
Feeling the assuaged, hyphenated roars for the uproar is still boiling.
Yet the cataclysm lay bare, in kingdoms and territories so clear, amassed by a striking glare
Like the moonshine glazed and faded, yet the man did not know its existing self,
For even the light of moon and shine could not glow its darkened skin.
Born in a faltering womb, infiltrated territory, maligning body, and will rise and look for cries of not its counterparts but the oppressor.
It's the game the fair woman plays, clawing the laboring hard worker with tentacles and barnacles, led him on to expose his darkened heart.
And yet she feasted on his dark red wobbling blood,
The world shapes and flusters rise and arise.
But darkened skins of the Orient much like these pseudo whites, call the melanin a broken armor.
For the shameless girl with big breasts and buttocks, a sexy fuckable woman, with all things black, yet everyone to hack.
For melanin is like aspirin, phrasing the patterning of behavior that is abhorring and bludgeoning.
The treacherous mind knows all things embezzled, bed your slaves, underage minors, rip their guts out with your whirlpool of lust,
Head Hunting, abusing, opening someone up, and showing your ravaged being, in hindsight not contemplating.
For the melanin is not a problem existing, you want to find people persisting to shadows following.
Of all the blacks from all the world, from west, east, south, and south-east.
As the first slave brought to the US.
As the first Austro-Asiatic men to be Indian.
For the first Dravidian to become a part and parcel of indigenous civilization.
For the first aboriginal to die in Australia as people came and claimed they did not owe their lands.
For southeast Asians are stamped, hoodlum ped, and maligned, traumatized by the demonization of Asiatic Caucasians.
The world matters when you risk it, to end it, the virtue signaling calms the waves, of all fails and stays, for even the countries you come from
Do not know who you are and the place you will be, for that, you know you will wear skin similar to me.
(Cosmic Context is a section where I explain my poem a bit more)
Wearing skin has consequences, for the colors can range anything from light to dark, but the truth is an unchanging constant, with time this will become more clearer and transparent, from histories in mysteries, human decapitation, suffering, and misery; many people lost their lineages, some lost everything for their darker hues skin tone. Africans are just one kind of black, while the world has many,
1. Austro Asiatics.
2. South Asian Hunter-Gatherers.
3. Aboriginals (We discuss the genocide of Amerinidians/Red Indians; hardly talk about them and their displacement and genocide during Britain’s attempt to make the former territory a jai in exile, which became a country later)
4. Malenesians.
5. Veddoids
6. Dravidians
Hello Wonderful folks, I hope you enjoyed this piece on Black unity. I have recently published the third part of Syncing of Fates and will embed it here. I hope you all are well and healthy. Take care and always keep that smile going. For folks who still have not read the trilogy of Syning of Fates short stories, you can find it in the embeds here. From this trilogy, the last part of this piece based on character analysis will be published soon. For now, signing off, hope you have a great day!
Your’s affectionate friend,
Kallol Poetry