This was published in Mizna sometime in the late 90s:
The child’s eyes turned into a big mirror...
Coconut girl saw the mirror for the first time in her life...
A moment of self-discovery..
She didn’t like what she saw,,
She was scared..
She smashed the mirror...
100,000 pieces the mirror scattered...
Each one has the same picture: Coconut girl..
A l00, 000 coconut girls..
The child died on the cross..
Went to heaven..
A whole generation passed..
The 100,000 mirrors grew up mirror trees..
Each with 100,000 more mirrors with brown girls on them..
Mirrors speak;
I am your identity,
I am your grandmother El hajjeh, back in the old country
Look into my eyes; I’m your mirror
Erase me from your diary; you can’t erase me from your genes.
Brown on brown
She tore down grandmother’s picture
But grandmother still existed
The more she avoided looking into the child’s brown eyes..
The more she was dissolving
Living in denial is the best cure!
She turned off the history..
She preached;
I’m felicity,
I am beige now!
I’m the saint of all saints,
I study people
I’m above everyone
I’m exotic
I am hummous
I am tabbouleh!
I’m just another coconut girl who tells people what is right and what is wrong
And in the meantime I uproot me..
To be Arab and proud, what a combination!
Is it logically feasible?
It scares me when I see those pictures of my grandmothers that I burnt...
I apologize to the mirror and the children..
It’s not about you
Grandma visits me in my dream,
passes her gentle loving hand on my forehead
And forgives me.
My self-hatred is blinding my vision;
The cowboys taught me that I am brown because I am dirty,They invented Clorox!
I washed me with Clorox so that I can fit.
I don’t want to be dirty!
Grandma visits me in my dream,
Passes her gentle loving hand on my forehead..
And forgives me...
Brown bleached girl got pregnant..
She gave birth to a little brown boy who was holding a rock..
I’m a mere rusty brown link on the chain of “us’s” identity..
I happened to be a prime number..
A second generation ya grandmother..
Don’t blame me!
Brown Jesus visits me in my dream,
Passes his gentle loving hand on my forehead..
And forgives me...
The child’s eyes turned into a big mirror...
Coconut girl saw the mirror for the first time in her life...
A moment of self-discovery..
She didn’t like what she saw,,
She was scared..
She smashed the mirror...
100,000 pieces the mirror scattered...
Each one has the same picture: Coconut girl..
A l00, 000 coconut girls..
The child died on the cross..
Went to heaven..
A whole generation passed..
The 100,000 mirrors grew up mirror trees..
Each with 100,000 more mirrors with brown girls on them..
Mirrors speak;
I am your identity,
I am your grandmother El hajjeh, back in the old country
Look into my eyes; I’m your mirror
Erase me from your diary; you can’t erase me from your genes.
Brown on brown
She tore down grandmother’s picture
But grandmother still existed
The more she avoided looking into the child’s brown eyes..
The more she was dissolving
Living in denial is the best cure!
She turned off the history..
She preached;
I’m felicity,
I am beige now!
I’m the saint of all saints,
I study people
I’m above everyone
I’m exotic
I am hummous
I am tabbouleh!
I’m just another coconut girl who tells people what is right and what is wrong
And in the meantime I uproot me..
To be Arab and proud, what a combination!
It logically feasible?
It scares me when I see those pictures of my grandmothers that I burnt...
I apologize to the mirror and the children..
It’s not about you
Grandma visits me in my dream,
passes her gentle loving hand on my forehead
And forgives me.
My self-hatred is blinding my vision;
The cowboys taught me that I am brown because I am dirty,They invented Clorox!
I washed me with Clorox so that I can fit.
I don’t want to be dirty!
Grandma visits me in my dream,
Passes her gentle loving hand on my forehead..
And forgives me...
Brown bleached girl got pregnant..
She gave birth to a little brown boy who was holding a rock..
I’m a mere rusty brown link on the chain of “us’s” identity..
I happened to be a prime number..
A second generation ya grandmother..
Don’t blame me!
Brown Jesus visits me in my dream,
Passes his gentle loving hand on my forehead..
And forgives me...
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