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Mishika Feb 16
Your pretty pretty eyes,
Don’t look at me with them.
Your pretty pretty smile,
Goshhh stop it!!
The pretty pretty hair,
And the pretty pretty you,
But all I end up saying is oh cool.
I still write about you and pretend like I don't think of you every day
kokoro Jan 28
Two weeks ago I met the most perfect boy.
I decided to shoot my shot,
and I made my ball in.
Im not ready to truly say I love him,
but I already know I do.
I know because his cologne lingers in my hair,
I know because I can ask him anything without feeling ashamed.
I know because I don't even feel jealous.
From the day that I saw him,
I knew we had a connection.
From the day that I saw him,
I knew something had begun.
I sleep knowing,
      I’m always close to the edge of death
I believe in the air,
      never thinking much to count a breath

I sit comfortably in public,
      not knowing the age of the chair
I accept a leader’s change,
      never questioning if it’s actually fair

I ride passenger,
      never wondering if the driver feels suicidal
I say amen as a crowd,
      not knowing if the people even believe in the Bible

I lie, I cry, I love, I hate, I forgive, I resent,
     I live to treat, but sometimes I need one’s care

But as a man,
     I cannot cheat on my barber, when it comes to my hair.
tell me, what's the key to your thoughts
do you have them locked in your locs –

chasing after a touch of those tangled thoughts
running fingers through your hair, but your
dreads are too thick - still that's alright

                      at least I have you tonight.
kokoro Jan 5
Its been three months
her hairs long now
it cascades down her back
moving as she walks closer to me,
grows closer to me.
I wonder how she feels when she sees me,
how she feels when she sees me standing there waiting.
all i see is guilt, and on top of that shame.
shame how it ended the way it did,
guilt on the way i acted.
i don't know if i should speak,
and if i did,
if she would respond.
Hebert Logerie Dec 2024
J’ai la couleur du café mal grillé
Et celle du chocolat précocement
Sevré, par les rayons du soleil du midi.

Mes cheveux évaporés, depuis des décennies,
Me suscitent à être reconnaissant,
Parce que je suis chanceux et fortuné,
De voir tourner la terre pour tant d’années.

J’ai les lèvres d’un politicien giflé,
Par les poêles d’un chef maltraité,
Et les dents tachées par le sang coagulé.

Ma langue coupée, hachée et fracassée
Sera avalée comme le rôti volé au marché
Des esclaves morts pendus et torturés
En plein air, sous les verrous des voitures.

J’ai la peau des vers de terre assassinés.
Mon nom tachera la langue des oppresseurs
Et anesthésiera la colère des fieffés menteurs.

Je porte avec fierté la couleur du café mal grillé
Et celle du chocolat oublié dans les cafetières;
Aucun humain ne mérite d’être classé parmi les ordures,
Même si demain tout retournera en poussière.

Le marron inconnu est mon frère aîné;
Les rayons solaires nous ont parfaitement flambés,
Comme le café et cacao venus d’un pays émancipé.

Copyright© Décembre,2011, Hébert Logerie, Tous Droits Réservés
Hébert Logerie est l’auteur de plusieurs recueils de poèmes.
Rubianne Foster Dec 2024
I wanted you to brush my hair
So we could talk and giggle
To sit at your feet
And be told how to be
A desire to lay my head on your knee
As cigarettes fill the air
The chores are left unfinished
And I am just another boring task.
So today my hair was brushed by me
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