"cornrows" poems
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
*I try to remember the kind of September
When life was slow and oh so mellow*
I try to remember the kind of September
When I wore my navy blue skirt
with white bottom down top,
with glistening extension cornrows
so tight like dreadlocks.
I try to remember the kind of September
When I was young and carefree and no responsibilities
Now it’s September those after school activities.
Oh shiver me timbers to all the bus drivers
Welcome to another school year with tears
Sep 1, 2015
Sep 1, 2015 at 5:09 PM UTC
Sometimes I feel uncomfortable in my own skin
It's like this chocolate shell is slowly killing me from within
Sometimes I think about taking up that cream and bleaching my skin
But it's only gonna lighten my complexion while the light inside me is still dim
Sometimes I wonder why I get left behind just because I'm not light
I mean we're from the same race, aren't we supposed to unite?
sometimes I think something is wrong with me because I'm not light
I guess the lighter girls at school feel sorry for me which is why they act so contrite
People pick up the book entitled me and they see a dark-skinned girl who is free
And they just put it down because they can't bother to read
But I don't want someone who worries about the knots in my hair and the cornrows
I want someone who's not afraid to run their fingers in the knots of my soul
So why can't you love me for my big lips and round brown eyes
And my wide hips and shapely thighs
Why cant you see that I'm beautiful, I'm confused
Don't you know that I reflect you in all my hues
Brown, caramel, black and all that's in between
We're all just the same if you know what I mean.
May 20, 2014
May 20, 2014 at 9:10 PM UTC
Lumpy, bumpy, feeling rather jumpy.
Nodule? Cyst? What have I missed?
Kindness pouring from soothing eyes - ladies in purple who have seen it all, beckoning sirens though to the hall.
Consultant - God, Guru, Man, Father, Lover, Philanderer, Tooth Fairy, Assassin
He checks like a 15 year old boy, passionless, conscientious, circling
Is this ok?
Lump - Yes. Bump - Yes. Am I going to jump? - Yes
Off to see the coolest man in the hospital - the Ultrasound guy
But first back to sit in cornrows with the ladies who coyly all dressed like me.
Russian roulette - someone will be upset.
Mamm-o-gram - scans your ***** like ham.
Kindness of the operator who's careers advisor could never have predicted this.
And then up and off to be seen by James Dean
James Dean with a wand and gel and a screen
And a squint then a glint - it might just be ok....?
90% its benign - oh mine the benign, fine, tine-y lump
But we had better double check.... with this massive needle
Please Mrs D please don't wheedle
Eyes shut tight anaesthetic mirroring a mastectomy....is it still there?
Then back to see my crew
Of ladies old and not so, a sea of tight smiles and frightened eyes
90% it's benign
90% it's benign
90% it's benign
Sep 1, 2017
Sep 1, 2017 at 10:19 AM UTC
Cornrows forge a rhythm to the sun
and self love feels like a line dance.
A shake of tassels and silks that
unfurl in the nick of time.
Love flowers on a stalk, above, below.
The wind sweeps in an airy betrothal,
a surge and then a sway, sashay,
a whirl in the nick of time.
Pollen, sparkles, pixel burst.
How do the ears of corn know,
to listen to the wind holler,
to twirl in the nick of time.
In a Caryopsis, a synopsis
of self seducing passions,
crushed to cornmeal. Floury
swirl in the nick of time.
Mar 30, 2021
Mar 30, 2021 at 12:32 PM UTC
feeling it
cornrows blasted by tulmoultous dust storms engulfing the plains
gunshot wounds to the hand
a teenager and his dad's cockfight
building split by the demolition team
can't really put it into words
my enveloping ambitions kick the family chair away from this hanged man's goal
i'll change
and finally I will be strong
Aug 9, 2015
Aug 9, 2015 at 3:55 AM UTC
*Blue jean hitchhikers , sweet cornrows
Wild Plum groves off Roseberry Road
Knee high grassland , matted trails home
to dusty , dog day Farms* ...
Aug 24, 2016
Aug 24, 2016 at 8:01 PM UTC
Mad archangel 2020 scam, dead weatherman noos report blam
be live-r to the umbrella storms;
“Stiffen up, you needa chief more
kid, you’re riffin’ with a
legend— as it is,
it’s a sewage drain,a bed
Pan the pipes of dawn’s
crack;at end of the tusk,
the silverback-gorilla camo on the lawn
kept the rusted metal on a locket-chain
hanging off his pocket;pocket-watch
hang from his eye-socket;
.seed sewn, from the cornrows
in his carriage-patch, 3-wheeled rig and [a battery-pack
lithium frame, told him, ‘slow down black’
—ain’t no money in that”
magazine gass’ed up -let me hand em the curls;
code to the Source,name
the names, bigstick for walking a sideways polemic
fortyoz forecast for
hisshadow stringed-up a harpwing tune
the maddog politick;
Show ‘em on the map
-where it rain tonight?-
(not that alley X the liquor store—sea the eagle
swim gelatinmass of marvelous cherrylime-green sky;
posse told him to pass
his flying colors, vomitspittle—
Magnesium flare—was all his
day in the dunya,(we all got’em)
bent youngblood ear like a
bloodhound:
What’s the static charge?
Smash!pumpkin brain s-p-l-a-t, rush to eat the seeds?
all the sparrows scatter cuz the lights
is red,white&Bluuuue on L juice
—Ah! Hell’s loose, call me a river and
press
snooze.
Sep 29, 2017
Sep 29, 2017 at 4:44 PM UTC
It's like you threw a curve in me
Never understood how love songs could make me blush as if they were written for me personally
Thank you for making me feel like I'm the prettiest girl in the world
Until I met you
Smirking at my screen
No matter what I have on he thinks I'm beautiful
Reminding me of all the times you just ignored my glasses, bonnet, cornrows, and even how you met me with swollen eyelids and no voice
Make me scream I'm all yours
Holding back because I don't know how to feel
Alone in a room, but all these notes are warming me like
the last snowflake on the first day of spring
Sounds of Love
Jun 4, 2014
Jun 4, 2014 at 12:40 AM UTC
Wearing a white dress and gold necklace chain.
Ella looked so sweet walking barefoot in the rain.
She just wanted to feel the rain between her toes.
And the raindrops falling lightly on her cornrows.
Just a pretty little inner city girl.
Loving her rainy day world.
Dec 16, 2019
Dec 16, 2019 at 9:57 AM UTC