Free verse, Poems with Author's Note

30/2017: Break

I can see them try to break you, this other, a thing that exists outside the comfort of what they think they know too scared to see you and their face reflected in your eyes. To look those powerful eyes, that allow no lies, and ask them to stare at the hate that they made… Continue reading 30/2017: Break

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Free verse

Day 350: Curly Hair

The texture of my life is not bound by the straightness of my hair. Though you try to tell me, that my dreams can only be achieved by the light reflecting off the glow of my porcelain skin, available today for the easy purchase of my identity. If the wishes I have can come true… Continue reading Day 350: Curly Hair

Rhyming

Day 320: Hey, White Person

I refuse to let the politics of fear, begin to divide the love between us. So much has happened this past year, I get the sway of a blank canvas. Sometimes the choices may seem unclear, but really what's left of justice? Is your view from my shoes, sincere? Or is it easy to pretend… Continue reading Day 320: Hey, White Person

Prose

Day 289: Why Brown Lives Should Care

Let's forget the fact that these lives lost were people, with dreams and families. Imagining future stories to be created and recollecting tales from the past. Let's pretend that these people didn't just step outside to see, and to feel the air of freedom on their onyx skin. Understanding the gift that freedom is, and the ability to share their wonder with others. Let's argue… Continue reading Day 289: Why Brown Lives Should Care

Free verse

Day 127: Speak

Don't be afraid to give light to the noise hiding in the shadows of your mind. It is in that hidden grey space that my heart hears yours, and your voice rings true. So please don't trust me with your silence, instead, besiege me with your words. © Manivillie Kanagasabapathy

Free verse, Poem

Day 68: The Women

On this sacred day, I give thanks For the many women Who have made me strong And the many women Who continue to inspire me To be more than I can imagine. My mother who bore me, Nine months of pain, To birth a child, Who needed special care. She did not stumble, In her… Continue reading Day 68: The Women

Free verse, Poem

Day 44: Culture

Am I defined by the words on this page, Or through the hands with which I write them? My pen traces the curves and lines, Of colonial words used to erase history. My understanding of "Eastern knowledge" A smörgåsbord of people, ideas, and terms, You did not understand, Yet teach me about myself. I pray… Continue reading Day 44: Culture