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Reece Dec 2013
hatasha hullah - dey
parablah nuh parrah
vey, okay, huttah, ulay
narralah, narrah, nutay

That interim between dreams and consciousness, that momentary lapse of reality
When slave children don't howl and the wild animals lay tamed in sun traps, weary

Your scattered thoughts betray reality
and you
question everything - now waking
Smiling chief, chirping loud
Your body gathered and prepared
under torchlight in dusty tents
Ingesting iboga and that old familiar numbness overpowers
You've been here for a life now, looking back on your life now
hatasha hullah - dey
vey, okay, huttah, ulay

Witch doctor, tribal medicine, fanning smoke from a wild fire
flashing imagery akin to memories of when life was decadent
you remember the taste of stray rain drops on your upper lip on muggy British summer days
and waking on a beach, bloodied as the sand at your feet is the next recollection, how powerful
the act of reflection, as you recall the mirrors of the sea and your torn body weakened and inept
The gathered village chant in unison and splinter groups fall off beat only to rejoin intermittently

Remember the Burmese boy far from home on the Gabon shoreline
and he informs you of your own death,
and asks you why do you breathe still?

hatasha hullah - dey
parablah nuh parrah
vey, okay, huttah, ulay
narralah, narrah, nutay
Oh laa, ley ley lahh ley lah
ley hatasha hullah - dey

On some beaten path lost in Angola you carried two packs, food for the world
but you fell starving and spluttered on the rock that looked like your home
Rebels run wild in jeeps black as night, your supplies strewn on rubble grounds
- hatasha hullah - dey
Taken in a flurry, twittering birds in far off trees betray your trust and fly away
in the opposite direction, and the juggernaut jeep catches air over uneven tracks
You were scared and crying under blindfolded eyes and captors jeered, captivated
- parablah nuh parrah
An orchestrated mass of military garbed children with rifles gather you abruptly
when the car stopped with a rumble
And tied to rusted rigs you're gagged and stripped, bloodied your face now
as they beat you and laugh
- vey, okay, huttah, ulay
Congolese giant man, sword in hand and grimacing through bared teeth
Making bold gestures and speaking some inscrutable language
You cannot answer and fear is now in control, you shiver in the ghastly draft
On failure to answer you must be beaten, your back is lashed, repeatedly
- narralah, narrah, nutay
You remain silent but cry in disparity, after shrieks of horror finally escape your barren lips
Through stinging eyes you assess the surroundings after hours of torture when they retire
to their leather beds of shame and innocence faltered, try and remember how to live
- Oh laa, ley ley lahh ley lah
Months must have passed, survive off insects and morning dew on the muddy floor
This African wasteland, time forgotten, child soldiers and lack of humanity is trivial
Always scheming, recollect the armament and through door-way shack trapped light
you see a clear path, and it is good
- ley hatasha hullah - dey
The pinnacle nightfall anticipated arrives, and your skinny wrists released now easily
(their faltering lack of knowledge and abundant braggadocio betray them)
AK laying in moonlight illumination, a sign of God perhaps, but experience proves otherwise
(How cruel the dreams you had of such a gift)
When they spot you leaving, the night lights up, wild crackle of gunfire, heart beats, tribal drums
(To massacre children, such proficiency, the dreams were mindful)
No lapse in concentration, you may ruminate on objective morality in due time
(Crawling through blood and bodies of children, so pure, cadavers tell lies)
The clearing ahead in giant trees, you run and don't look back, praying for no pursuit
(Another genocide committed by a white man, justified perhaps this once)
Weeks pass and you falter only to slurp rain water from Congolese sipping cups the leaves
(Blacking out somewhere in the Republic, or on a border or who cares, as you died long ago)
- vey, okay, huttah, ulay
  ley hatasha hullah - dey

To awake from hallucinogen dreams, and cruel memories linger, it's painful you agree
Witch doctor still sings, lonesome now as the tribe apply ointments and silently pray
The fire still dances to some incredible song and your scars redacted, physical and other
How incredible the mind feeling fuzzy and that insane dream is just that - a dream
You black out again, a common occurrence but upon waking you're free, no tribe exists
With a sheepskin rucksack full of cassava, plantains and sugarcane and cocoa beans
Months pass and you make it to the North, when you leave Africa your body is new
and your mind is stable, no lingering cognizance or frightful thoughts of a forgotten ordeal

You arrive in Turkey, to partake in ***** with nimble girls
and I see you floundering on silken sheets,
My memories were fresh as the nymph on your lap
I write to you a note, and you turn alabaster, moon faced being
I was there always and saw every moment
Your ideals on morality are hazy at best, and to your behest I detest all that you stand for
Is your afterlife so pure, now that bodies litter the forest floor
and do you believe that I am not (a) God
and is this mere poetry, or an indictment of your folly and a warning to all whom engage
but do you not also see that every reaction was an action taken to your original action
and when all is said and done, do you no realise that from the day you were born
you were born a God and that God was born dead
and this is just that interim between expiration and consciousness, that momentary lapse of reality
when slave children don't howl and the wild animals lay tamed in sun traps, weary

hatasha hullah - dey
parablah nuh parrah
vey, okay, huttah, ulay
narralah, narrah, nutay
hatasha hullah - dey
parablah nuh parrah
vey, okay, huttah, ulay
narralah, narrah, nutay
hatasha hullah - dey
parablah nuh parrah
vey, okay, huttah, ulay
narralah, narrah, nutay
Oh laa, ley ley lahh ley lah
ley hatasha hullah - dey
Emeke Lewis Mar 2021
Lard Gad I cant tek it nuh more
Right now mi feel like church life unsure
Mi cant even see weh fi embrace nuh more
Cause the covid thing seh nuh embrace nuh more.

Lard Gad I cant tek it nuh more.  
Right now mi feel like church life unsure.
Mi miss sis jenny cooking,
The good sat deh chicken,
Mi usually lick mi  finga
Like a happy baby pigeon.  

Lard Gad I cant tek it nuh more
Right now mi feel like me church life unsure
Weh affi mask up
Face cover up
A cough or sneeze mek everybody flair up.

Lard Gad I cant tek it nuh more.
Lard Gad I cant tek it nuh more
In God we trust
In  God  we  trust
In   God   we   trust

I nuh Gaw duh wii tr uhst
Ein nuh GAHWD wiie TR UHST
EINUH GAHHWD WEIIIE TR UUHS T

EEEEEI NUH GUH AW DH
WUH EEIIIE TH RUH SS TH

EEEEEI  NUH  GUH  AW  DH  
WUH  EEIIIE  TH  RUH  SS  TH

­EEEEEI   NUH   GUH   AW   DH  
WUH   EEIIIE   TH   RUH   SS   TH

EEEEEI    NUH    GUH    AW    DH    
WUH   EEIIIE    TH    RUH    SS    TH
ogdiddynash Jul 2018
helping the kids with homework


no one told you,
was part of the job description
paycheck earner a-ok,
gruff but tender lover,
knowing her special places,
building a tree swing,
a tree house safe and satisfactory,
one the neighbors envy

taking them to the hospital for
broken arms and chemotherapy,
part two of the non-routine but a very possible foreseeable,
going to school to give that principal a look
that will make him think twice before suspending
one of his for defending himself

you remember your daddy doing the same for you,
forgetting to repeat the tar and hiding that came later

the tucking in, the pretense ouch
when your end of day
scratchy beard ruffling the skin of babies,
carrying tissues in a toolbox,
never heard of, nevertheless done,
tho not a memory defining the future inclusive,
definitely a learning ability, a likeability

doing homework, nuh uh,
no way jose, don’t dare let them
know how you never got a gold star,
always sat in the back row, outta sight,
all day dreaming, chemistry rhymes with mystery,
and poetry is rhymes needing a big vocabulary
which means lots of words for a man who don’t talk much

ain’t exactly his strong suit

sure, heard of Shakespeare but never met him,
know where the on/off computer button hides,
the rest is up to them;
got no email address, but taught them sir and ma’am,
how to address humans with respect,

i’ll promise them anything
but not doing any homework,
unless it the kind that that makes

a home work
#homework
Suraj Narine Sep 2015
Everywhere meh look, all meh see
Is suffering and bare tragedy
Rasta nuh blind, Rasta nuh deaf
Not even ah loaf ah bread pon ah shelf

War, bust we skin, ah left scar
While politician ah drive fancy car
Meh pickanny hungry
Baby madda angry
Everywhere meh look all meh see
Is blood and bare treachery

For survival, youth turn cannibal
Inna dem head, positivity nuh linger
Pick up de gun, tun trigger finger

Guide them oh Jah
Protect dem likkle ones
Dem ah de future
Our salvation, our cure.
Selah...
Beat the Congo
Blow the horn
Wave your hand
Out of many one people
What a vibration
In a this little island

Even though we can’t live as one
But when a party time
We unite
Nuh matter the culture (it doesn’t)
We a full joy we self
You have Rasta talking
Christians praying
Bay song playing (in the context Bay means a lot)
Smiles on everybody faces
Out many one people

So come the Chinese, British, Syrians, Americans, Indians
Every Caribbean and rest of the world
Come to Jamaica
And feel alright
Listen some Bob
Don’t carry no jewelry
Because you will get rob
But come and eat
Have a feast
Enjoy we beach
Entertainment

Energy a shot
Drink a cold beer
Relax under the coconut tree
Feel free
We have **** chicken
Curry goat
Festival, rice, Bammy
Fry and steam fish
Come enjoy we cultural dish
Food galore
Go back a your country
Tell every boy and girl
Say Jamaica nice

We know say crime and violence
Corruption
A plague
But don’t let that stop you
Cause everybody welcome
Nuh matter taste (It doesn’t)
Come in a haste
Cause we have a celebration
Jam dung vibration
Me a tell the politician
Say me a send out a special invitation
But first we yard need renovation
Build up Jamaica
And education
Cause we live in a paradise
Black, green and gold
We proud and bold
As we motto say
Out of many one people.

CHRISTENA ANTONIA VALAIRE WILLIAMS ©2012
JAMAICA
I spoke my native language mixed with English.( Patois or Creole) this poem was Short listed in Desmond O' Grady poetry competition in Ireland. A spoken piece was done also.
LearnfromBOBD Feb 2019
My Haseena

late night
pillow fights
watching stars
airplane flights
Wow’ babe, come see the morning clouds
With peaceful doves
Flying above
Wet kisses
Like a washed dishes
Sweat on yo breast
Di* grew stronger
Felt the touch of your hand on my hair
And the other hand romancing my back
just me and you
After waiting for so long
Oh my gosh,
Yo high heels tinkling my legs
Night gown wet
I’m ready and set
***** shaved clean, nuh hair.
My dear queen can I come in ?
No! Not what you think
I mean can I **** it ?
Let me give you the legendary of me
Dearie
Note to dreamboat ♥️
“Top of the Morning to ‘Yuh, Guv’nuh.”*

Oh, to be father of a
Cockney flower girl,
To be Eliza Doolittle’s
Dear old Dad,
Alfred P. of that surname.
Oh, to be a cockney dustman,
On this fine day,
Another fine day in
Northern New Mexico, as I
Sell my daughter to
‘Enery Iggins, or
Some equivalent
Princeton poofter.
I am Rhett Butler,
Daring blockade-runner,
Persona –non-grata*
For any decent
Family—including my own,
Charleston Carolina.
In time, I crave
Social acceptance for
Bonnie Blue—my ill fated
Would-be equestrian offspring;
I surrender my daughter to the
Upper Class.
Spenser Bennett Jun 2016
Whether weather withers
Heavy penny pinchers
Or orders hor d'oeuvres
Don't mean I'm richer
I'm just not a city slicker
Don't say I'm bitter
I got honey in my pitcher
Oh no wait that's pilsner
Sorry I forgot my censor
And she told my I got a ****** up
******
There's a reason I don't miss her
And I'm just trying to be honest
But she left with my wallet
And now I'm elbow deep in Comet
Paying for a dinner, faux gras, I said that like ***** grass to the waiter
I know I can't pronounce it
**** it he's a hater
And she said see ya later
Later on Imma be Dark side
Like Master Vader
I roll up like high tide
And my homies roll up to Eastside
And I tried to go nuts
Now I gotta run hide
'Cuz bacon munch next door on their donuts
Call me crazen, brazen, but
I was cravin' me a donut
So I strolled up
And then she showed up
Tryna get some tacos
And she was with her ****-o
Head look like a rock-o
And he knows bout them rocks though
So I zip-zap-skidaddle
Back to the Eastside
Now the bar died
So I try to find a quick ride
Down to mi casa
But the cars they passa
Without no second glance - uh
Until I drive myself - uh
Now I'm in a jail cell
Callin' for a lawyuh
Writing out my woes nuh
Hiding from my phone bruh
Cigarettes at home
And my heads all full of fog
I should sleep this off
Imma sleep this off
Story poem/ Awful rap? Are those a thing? I feel like they're a thing.
Dreams of Sepia Sep 2015
The house is chaka chaka
the guests are due tomorrow
but wi hab di ting lack, Mon
a Tap a di Tap is a comin'
n' we nuh live nowhere
but wi hab di ting lack, Mon
now a storm's a-brewin'
& the Babylon, they outside
but wi hab di ting lack, mon
but wi hab di ting lack
A poem written using Jamaican expressions..
P.S I'm not Jamaican

wi hab di ting lack - we're in control
chaka chaka - untidy & messy
Tap a di Tap - respectable person
nuh live nowhere -  to have nothing or little
Babylon - police
Mon - man/woman/child
Peanut Butter  May 2015
Hot boy
Peanut Butter May 2015
[Intro: Quavo]
****, man. Brrrrtttttt
Hello?
What the hell you mean Ma? I ain't did ****!
****!

[Hook: Quavo]
Feds hit the spot man I ain't saying nothin
They came around about 5 o' clock this morning (12!)
They telling me I'm copping contraband from informants
Channel 2, Fox 5, I'm America's most wanted! (Ooh!)
Hot boy, hot boy, hot boy, hot boy, hot boy
Hot boy, hot boy, hot boy, hot boy, hot boy
Feds hit the spot say I'm copping from informants
Channel 2, Fox 5, I'm America's most wanted! (Ooh!)

[Verse 1: Quavo]
Yeah, yeah, Quavo
I pick up my **** and then hit the door (Oh ****! **** 12!)
Surrounding my house and they kick the door (Boom! Boom!)
"Don't move, get on the floor!" I hit the window and fell on the curb
I'm trying to get up and take off, the officer speared me, like Goldberg
Say "Where were you 3 o clock on the dot?" "My Momma's house" "You a ******* liar"
Have you heard about your new worker? (Nah) Know I put him in your circle
I witnessed you purchase the pound (nuh uh)
I witnessed you purchase the brown (no you didn't)
I witnessed you purchase the white (no!)
Say goodnight down the road for a long flight

[Hook]

[Verse 2: Takeoff]
Hot Boy like Silkk the Shocker, pull up on your blocka with the Waka Flocka
Momma hit me on my cellular told me that Quavo got caught by the coppers (****!)
They say they've been investigating and Migo gang we connected with the mobsters (Huh?)
Can't talk to you ****** my lawyer talk. **** the prosecutor Mr. Marcus
****! Lookin out of my window, I see a black truck and it's empty
Walk to the door check the peephole (what that is man?)
Then I start hearing a noise and it makes me paranoid (****!)
Thinking what the **** is going on? (What the ****?)
All of these tools like it's Autozone
If I get caught I ain't coming home (No!)

[Hook]

[Verse 3: Offset]
Offset!
They said that I sold to informants
I told them I just got off touring
They circle my house like an orbit (****!)
He telling me he gon extort me (huh?)
50% of my income, unfortunately he not gon get none
Life sentence or freedom so pick one
**** ***** you trying the wrong one (**** *****)
Quavo call my phone, his spot got raided it just got kicked in
We all met up in the Westin
Who know what the **** going on it ain't making sense (who know?)
The police talking they got evidence
I told you ****** bout serving them Mexicans (I told you ******!)
****! There go 12 (****!)
I picked up my **** and I moved out the residence

[Hook]
i lovwe youtoo much yo let you gof
Criss Jami May 2014
Right now, my cranium is spacing out
My brain is racing up and down and
I'm left pacing like I saw an alien in a nightgown
Man I can't really write right rite right now so
I'm hoping this'll flow
Maybe later still able to kiss and ***** the flames at the tip of a missile toe
And Ms., miss it won't if you don't spit it slow
Oh you know
This is so that it'll go and blow
Grow, explode the mind
And then it glows
For sure, no lie

I'm a show-off to get the mind out the gutter
Up and out, now it's not about some snuffing out or really a ruffling bluff-like fisticuffs to handcuffs riff-raff fluff about my rugged Scruff McGruff tuff scuffed-up stuff with a huff and puffed-up "ruff! ruff!" buff enough rough and tough mudder style but
Somewhat it's done out of love for even the loudest mouth out there somewhere, somehow

So someday in someway to someplace
I'll send your message in my package and pass it
Over and out
Ground control and the days are long so
I have the gift just to give the shout-outs
Yeah before it's gone, oh
Over and out

He might be a writer and he can't even hide it be-
Cause communication's the communion, union of the unified nations
Relationships and maybe even sensationalism
But hatred rests in a safe the dangerous once made
While a good intention not to mention is
A common premise in this mix we try to fix
And then we pray
But in games we trust because
We think it's made for us for fun and
And what we crave, nuh-uh yuh-huh
Uh-uh, uh-huh

So sometime for somebody, somewhen for someone or something
I'm sending my message, my package I'm passing it
Over and out
Ground control and the days are long
So I have a gift, oh to give my shout-outs yeah before they're gone
Over and out

Now let us get some shut-eye so
This introvert can shut-up, oh
Over and out
Who wrote it right on time about how

Somedeal and somewise it's this diss-functional brain of mine
My pen's pensive motor-mouth is left rightly in its creative state of sane now I'm
In between and staying safely stable
Without withering within her ring somewhither with his SAM-wise fable
And that my baby is what I call in-sane
Able to lay it on our table when
We're stripped bare to the underwear with
Our ways and our whereabouts on paper, amen
From an omen of ol' men
Over and out, send

— The End —