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History Dipped in Blue
Dear the color blue/
Oh how beautiful you are
You can tell so much
So much about someone's emotions and feelings
A cold sad winter night or a deep ocean filled with awe and wonder.
But this isnt about that side of you**
Because we all know your ugly side/
How the fields burst** with your indigo weeds/ harvested by the colonized and the enslaved from my people in india to others in the Americas.
The fields where a nation not lead by us gaze wanders
Not to our yearnings but to its own self-interest/
A dominion extending its grasp
A colonial fist/ clasping across the four continents submerging us to a life of servitude and slavery
A life with a purpose to provide nothing*** but the labor neccesary to extract/ you**./
Seens most clearly** when the planters whip opens the flesh of our faces
Exposing our crimson flesh to you.
Dear blue,
do you see the black and brown bodies
The bodies who work tiresly in your fields
Bodies that are dyed of you once they come into contact
Breathing you in and out dying our lungs
Dear blue, do you know where I begin and where you end
Your incarcerating presence is inside me
Under my fingernailsACTION where my ancestors used to pluck you from your green stem
Oh blue I see you everywhere I go
Its engraved in me
My brown skin tells your story when they see us as nothing but immigrant labor to exploit and disregard.
Dear blue, oh how calm you are
How you signify the calmness in life
A color so relaxing
But only some get that privilege
The privilage of seeing the the beauty in color
The privilege of not seeing the hands behind all the comforts in luxurious** tyranny.
I wish i was like them
Its a beautiful privilege to see you and feel calm in the face of all the violence
Because they will never have to see the fields
But Oh blue,
how you paint the sky
Looking up and seeing the hanging bodies with the background painted full of you.
Oh blue how you allure so many
As you paint the threads that weave into the fabric of our clothes
your hue seeps into each thread.
Clothing that has served to cover the scars that marked our bodies with your sins
The same clothes that the whip opens up with each slash.
The cloth that holds together the fabric of our society
Ripped apart every whip** and every slash.**
The hopes and dreams that are torn***
Torn by your blue hate when they compare my skin to your sins
Torn by the same blue hate they say will make this country great again***
But oh blue the blood spilled upon our peoples tells a deeper story, staining history with its sorrow
But still carries hope for a tomorrow where the fabric of society isnt defined by your story
But is rewoven with our threads and our stories.
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The poem is a testament to those who were enslaved and colonized. I do this by using the color blue, extracted from colonies and plantations to satisfy the needs of imperial rulers. The poem is also about the colonization and enslavement that still exists today in our skin, and the words of those with power in this society.