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Rating: 5.0
As a child I had a 'coloured' nanny
(actually I'm coloured too - I'm pink) .

Perhaps that's why I've always loved dark ladies:
their skin needs no bronzing, burning sun
and their lips are sooooo kissable!
(Mine are thin - unappealing I imagine.)

I once made love to a 'mulata'
on an overnight Mexican train.
The cactus-ridden desert slid on by
un-accusingly, as we lay
beneath a brightly 'coloured' blanket.

Next day, enthralled,
I asked her to to come to England,
but she was bound for the U.S. -
more opportunities there, I guess...

Thirty swift years later
I met a white South African:
he told me that his idea of God
was a beautiful 'coloured' lady
(it's politically incorrect to say 'black',
though it's fine to say 'white')
and the man was a conservative!

In the long term, racial integration
will happen through a huge
attraction of opposites.
Our great, great, great grandchildren
will be coffee-coloured
and therefore unprejudiced.

In Cuba and Brazil
(among other places)
this process is already going on.

I would have liked to join in,
but I'm afraid Naomi Campbell
never noticed me...
Saturday, December 20, 2008
Topic(s) of this poem: race
Sonny Rainshine 26 December 2008
Finely executed poem with a subtle message about race and skin colour. We here in the U.S. are very hopeful that the historic election of a black man to the highest office in the nation is just the beginning of a long, healing journey toward equality and 'colour-blindness.' Keep the poems coming.
0 0 Reply
Andrew Burant 25 December 2008
I understand this poem completely i love darker ladies to good work
0 0 Reply
C. P. Sharma 20 December 2008
A good poem coupled with good sense of humour too. +++++++++++10 CP
0 0 Reply

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