#afro
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.
Jun 23, 2021
Jun 23, 2021 at 1:42 PM UTC
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
Jul 9, 2020
Jul 9, 2020 at 1:38 AM UTC
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
May 25, 2020
May 25, 2020 at 2:04 PM UTC
1960s
mop top,
pompadour,
hippie hair,
afro...
Dad gives me a crew cut...
Nov 6, 2019
Nov 6, 2019 at 8:59 AM UTC
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
Aug 6, 2019
Aug 6, 2019 at 1:30 PM UTC
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
Jan 19, 2019
Jan 19, 2019 at 10:36 AM UTC
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
Jan 16, 2019
Jan 16, 2019 at 8:19 AM UTC
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.
Dec 13, 2018
Dec 13, 2018 at 9:03 AM UTC
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
Sep 14, 2018
Sep 14, 2018 at 12:57 PM UTC
I sit with my afro, tall and round like the trees
I sit with my afro between my mother's knees
And I cry.
She thinks it's because she pulled my hair
I let her feel guilty but really that's not fair
Because it's you.
So as my mother glides the comb through my onyx curls
Your web of lies begins to unfurl
And all at once you were my world
But now you're nothing.
My mother's hands twist my hair into braids
Partings in more ways than one have been made
Memories like my brother's fade
But not for you.
Yours are stronger than my mother's hands
Yet as soft as my Indian strands
And how I wish I could get the clippers and shave
my head and watch my memories of you fall away
But I can't.
So as my mother braids my hair down my back
I remember you and try to forget the fact
That you ran your hands through this Raven hair
Shielded my now tear streaked face from the frozen air
Forget that you loved the coarse strands
As much as the Indian; soft in your hands
So I lock away these memories with each braid
And try to prove to myself that I'm more afraid
Of losing my afro than losing you.
I tell myself that it's my mother pulling that makes me cry
But you and I,
Know that's not true.
Jul 26, 2018
Jul 26, 2018 at 8:35 PM UTC
So different, unique
But decadent and meek
Peek through the deficit
Kneel to the exorcist
Some throw bones
to the wise Voodoo priest
Come throw clone dice
on the Buntu streets
An Angel inside hell
an Ancient Scribe to tell…
Jun 11, 2018
Jun 11, 2018 at 7:42 AM UTC
Your mind is a treasure that I'd love to discover
An abyss of thoughts and logarithms only you can translate
Your mind makes love better than the body can
It's a dopamine high I can't resist
So as I sit here, I **** on your words as if they were a pair of lips
I sip on your wisdom for it is the finest wine.
Feb 23, 2017
Feb 23, 2017 at 1:25 PM UTC
I've been growing out my hair despite my better judgment. Maybe in spite of your hatred of long luxurious locks. Either way my Afro is here to stay.
Aug 10, 2016
Aug 10, 2016 at 2:10 AM UTC
Yo soy *****
**** immigration and the racist white tèjanõs, please tell me how the hell would they ever know what I know, shout out to my Mexicans Hondurans and black Cubanos shut the border down call it the no fly zone. Adios Americanos me and my amigos are stealing ya women and playin em like pianos, vocal terrorist this lyrical revolt should be your primary interest. Public enemy number one the domestic hectic terrorist I'm influencing your white son, right to bear these nuts I'm taking the tea parties guns stealing your freedom from right up under you, all your jobs, and way of life, your point of view. I'm the original black power ranger hide your right winged minds if not I swear they'll be in danger. I am the broken brick the stone left unturned the rhythm of the wind the willingness to learn and the desire to fight and get what you earn. I am the individual placed on the no fly list with my hand balled into a fist cause my turbin is too tight and my beards to thick. I am the man choked to death by nypd for selling cigarettes now I'm rioting with my words doing lyrical pirouettes. Yo soy ***** spitting jive like lingo I want a Pam Grier keep your Marilyn Monroe, from the 6th borough buckin like bronco they said finish em I'm educated and black had to hit em with the combo. I'm non fictions Huey Freeman battling congress and their demons catch me flexing on the law lookin like the black He-Man Standing up for what I believe in writing in my notepad I stay steady schemin with my head up in the clouds I stay steady dreamin. Yo soy ***** freeze em like sub zero not concerned with dolores or the dinero yen or bills yo, I'm still waiting for marvel to make a Mexican superhero.
Dec 25, 2014
Dec 25, 2014 at 11:05 AM UTC
By: Tony L. Jefferson, Jr.
I never felt it was fair to perceive her as just a woman
Just a being that existed beside me
She was natural, with a big afro that weather couldn’t blow
The way she walked, a silky sashay through the room commanding attention
She was like smooth jazz played at an expensive dinner
I longed to meet her
But yet
I was too caught up in mental fantasies
Scared to finally face reality and ask her for a simple dance
She was perfect in every way
I pictured her moving in tune with me moving to our favorite tune
Flowing like natural waterfalls as we fall into an intimate embrace
What a woman I would say
What a lady on this day
I finally got the nerve to approach her
My dreams were being realized before mine own eyes
When fantasy would finally meet reality
Just as I went in to present my case
She turns to me
Dreamy eyes, dreamy eyes
Sweet lips accented in mahogany lip stick
My lady, I would like to partake in a sweet embrace
I would like to move in a sensuous mood
We danced for an eternity it seemed
But alas, our song ended
And as I moved in for a kiss
She disappeared into a fine, sweet mist
Perfection is only perceived in the mind
But with time we shall develop as one and your flaws become perfection to me
Dec 14, 2014
Dec 14, 2014 at 11:08 PM UTC