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Odd Odyssey Poet Jun 2021
Letting off your despair,
looking ever so lovely today.
Let me run errands with my fingers
throughout your entire hair.

Those afro and curls,
how can I make you my girl?

What I see is what I get.
And once I have it, I won't regret.

Let go, and let go of your hair.

Seems wild to others, but tame in my eyes.
Running thoughts running in your hair,
telling me what's on your mind.

Going round and round with words,
tying knots to an issue with your curls.
Always to get on your nerves,
for speaking in vein of how I'm in love with your Afro & Curls.
Justine Louisy Jul 2020
Mummy used to buy me hair grease,
for my hair was a seismic wave of crease.
The scalp crying sweat,
the tantrums were the onset.

Wide tooth comb have mercy on the nots,
nests of lies and cheeky clots.
The flurries of dandruff deposit,
the skeletons in the closet.

Mummy brought out the blue magic,
the long strands thirsty to become ethic.
Such a wave of moisture,
like the silkiness of an oyster.

A perfect layer of braided Cornrows,
blended amongst the tropical mangoes.

Mummy says to me you’re a woman now,
be prepared and ready to plough,
the knotty hairs of your little ones.

Go and buy the same hair grease,
to ensure their naughty traits mature into peace.

Justine Louisy

Copyright ©Justine Louisy 2016
All Rights Reserved
So... I’ve mentioned about braids but now let’s talk about the preparation of Afro hair and the goodness of hair grease (metaphorically speaking 😁😅) enjoy!!
Shayloves May 2020
Cast Iron comb held freedom between its teeth
Release me from these naps- it’s straightness I seek
Praying I don’t get burned and have to pay a price
Just to get someone to notice and say my hair looks nice
It’s blowing in the wind just as smooth as you please
Fingers don’t get stuck; they flow through with ease
Walking down the street I catch a few winks and stares
I’m flowing with my hot combed hair without a care
Thunder rolls and lightning strikes...cumulus clouds gather
Umbrella in the car😳, this is no laughing matter!
Minutes pass and strangers still smile as they stroll by
I couldn’t muster the energy to figure out why
My hair, no longer straight, must be ***** and knotted by now
I looked in the mirror and still gathered compliments but didn’t know how
I thought for a moment about how carefree I felt as the sun came into view
I realized I’d just been released from those sad old hot comb blues.
Shay
Mark Toney Nov 2019
1960s
mop top,
pompadour,
hippie hair,
afro...

Dad gives me a crew cut...
6/8/2019 - Poetry form: Free Verse - Copyright © Mark Toney | Year Posted 2019
Diana Santiago Aug 2019
His hair so rich and thick
Spiraling upward higher and higher
Voluminous in appearance
Bold in its statement

Copious curls demanding attention
Natural, beautiful and free flowing
Standing tall to whomever it encounters
Sunlight beaming into its brown hue

It tells a story of bloodline and culture
Narrates history, prejudice, acceptance
Perseverant by nature
Resilient against criticism

I worship his hair from a distance
Yearning to feel it in between my fingers
Kiss his strands one by one
Inhale its scent like aromatherapy
There's history in my hair please don't touch, handle with care.
It's the same as this perfect pigment,
this melanin I wear
Richly rooted in my blood
Whether dark or fair

Sun kissed and kinked in bliss
More love for my 'rough n tough Afro puff'
She shines like the Sahara sun
She smells like the salt of the Gold coast sea.
Theres a hint of the bittersweet seed of the cocoa tree.
Feels like the pillow that holds all your dreams with the dry Harmattan wind brushing against your cheek
She'll whisper secrets of the motherland.... If you get close enough

She holds like Mina
Curls with pride
Falls with grace and integrity.
Stubborn like the struggle of the ones before me.
Gravity defying masterpiece that's just a single piece of me, a reminder of my ancestry.
It's my glory, my covering

Don't take it lightly, don't misunderstand, I'm a work of art so please peep but just don't touch.

© Raphaela Israel Öbeñg
Words are meaningless
and forgettable
Feelings are fleeting
and unreliable
Presents get old and worn out
People change
from friends to strangers
And change is inevitable
Nothing remains the same
Letting go means you're stronger than you think.
the black rose Dec 2018
there is attitude as strong as my own in these kinks and these coils,
my Afro has a mind of its own.
she stands tall when she wants,
shrivel up when she’s cold.
sometimes shy,
she is not a people person.
my Afro only communicates with other Afros.
she ain’t stingy but she **** sure don’t like to be touched.
don’t you try to sweet talk her
when she’s in a rush.
only like a wash & oils.
sometimes gel and finger coils.
she’s amazing,
i love my twa.
So many strange fruits,
       In the streets.
Black bodies living in the sewers
Africans hanging from the apple trees,
Used needles on concrete,
Blood has a new home build with tears,
It's sad to say,
It's sad to say,
Children are born here.
They wonder why life became so rotten.


©MH
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