"dreadlock" poems
Dreadlock Rasta;
No like informa,
No like imposta,
**** smoke; burning da trees
Mango scented leaves,
Burnt grapefruit scented breeze.
Wolly mammoth size locks,
Steal wool, ***** tied in a knot,
Jamaican colors wrap tie; sitting on top.
I and I, believe it or not.
No woman no cry,
No problem;
Him cool as a rock.
Charles Dickens by his side,
Studying stanzas, deciphering plots.
Prayer's meeting;
meditation- never stop.
Water’s blue waves,
Fresh fish after 12’o clock.
Under the bridge, find my spot.
By his sweet Sugarcane from,
Miss Parker Sugarcane shop
Burning a spliff, because the ****
is his only green; pastures plot.
Mary Jane, his only queen be,
Never leaving he; love him or not.
May 23, 2014
May 23, 2014 at 4:35 PM UTC
teepee dwellers gather rounddancing flames, natures soundhappy hippies, beads and banglesvegan food but leather sandals save the earth, soap-dodgers pleadflower power, worship weedhate pollution, love the treeslove and peace, pure and free dreadlock strands, ***** handssymbolic signs from aeresol cansacrylic colours produced by manthe hairy eco paints his van van thats spews black filthy smokebalding tyres, handbrake brokesigns of peace and global gleeno wipers, tax, or m.o.t workin hippy knows the scoresummer paid by winters choremother earth their passion causeand some drive home in four by fours
Mar 1, 2010
Mar 1, 2010 at 1:15 PM UTC
heavy traffic
so we stash ourselves in the publix parking lot
and watch the flashes of the departing thunderstorm
she lays out on the buicks hood in a bikini top
a bead of sweat kisses her bellybutton
her thick dreadlocks spread like ropes
i pick one up and stick it in her ear
shes not happy with that
afternoon is all sunshine and watered down sodas
isles of plastic goodies and elevator musics
the old woman pushing her empty cart while dragging a bag
she goes to get her nails done
i push pebbles into parking lot puddles
and watch the sky drift in the reflection
she is half my age
she sticks her tongue in my ear
i dont mind
there are palm trees and lizzards everywhere
and pebbles in puddles
im a pebble and shes my puddle
shes all wet
im hard
we laugh in the forever summer sunshine
we dance in the parking lot puddles
of the fiveashes publix lot
and daydream the stars above
this is no ordinary love
this is passion's fire in the hearts eyes
shes my jezebel
im her poet
Mar 19, 2014
Mar 19, 2014 at 11:42 AM UTC
sitting on the floor barefoot in a baby blue dress
perfections dreamscape hewn in lace
romance flower of such gentle strength
and such sweet grace
my life was a blank page
waiting to be written
waiting for my wanderers heart to be smitten
for this wild child dreadlock princess
for this gentle soul to sing her heartsong for me
tremble no more for all darkness is gone
with eachother we are stronger than moonlight
with eachother our hearts beat as one
my life to you and for you my sweet
be my wife
be my life
Sep 10, 2014
Sep 10, 2014 at 3:34 PM UTC
she rides her mountain bike
in the sun
dreadlocks fluttering behind like streamers
shes all smiles
as we come to our spot by the river
this beautiful place called fiveashes
and unpack the picnic basket
the world itself is beautiful when i'm with her
time itself loves her essence
even the graffiti looks like love letters the world
has written for her alone
theres something darkly romantic
about the nights down by fiveashes
something about thouse long miles
flying by on nightbreeze
with her hand in mine
with her lips on mine
its like a valley safe from the worlds seein
a place where naked and free we can be just we
down by fiveashes
the backseat of our buick is on fire
with her passions
and the lust in my soul
and theres something darkly romantic
about the humid warm air and how her shirt clings to her **** skin
about the songbirds opening up the mysterious day
like a gift for the dreadlock girls that shine
she lay with me tangled in her afterwards
as we watch the stars and catch our breath
i taste her on my lips
i can taste her on my soul
like shes a sunrise
rapidly banishing my life's shadows
and breathing life itself into my heart
Mar 18, 2014
Mar 18, 2014 at 4:33 PM UTC
the moving shadows of
the men gathering
flicker in my vision
cause me to ponder the moment
in a way i had not seen before
cause me to fracture the vision
to decode the meanings in
each mans motion
each mans meaning
her long black hair entangles my head
as dose her deep long looking
her neat clean eyes frighten me
with their possibilitys
with their depth
with their hot beauty
it is not my place to find
a place in this womans life
i am but a distraction to her
somthing to occupy the moment
to phish for lost keys
in sections of some dreadlock music
she erased poems to fit onto the kindle
she removes her shirt
to rinse out the sweat
in the tidal pool
a young woman nearby stops
and stares
smiles when they meet eyes
and i am surfing my beach bike alone
walking it
home?
where am I
where am i going?
Jul 31, 2013
Jul 31, 2013 at 12:03 PM UTC
risque thoughts inhabit my mind
as she steps back and forth across the threshold
nubile twenty something hippy dreadlock girl
such a lovely persona
and moist inked beauty of form
she shouts my poem in the parking garage at four am
the echoes add integrity to it she laughs
my girl takes her in our bed
and shows her some integrity
i would so willfully indulge
but i know that such a creature is
the kind i could come to love with true deep feeling far too easily
and i dare not such misadventure
i am so drawn in by her golden patchouli locks
her fine line inked breast
her laughing gentle eyes
i tell my girl
this interloper of her treasures must depart
in the morning
she is unhappy but agrees
i sleep on the floor
waking to my happy home restored
Jun 8, 2013
Jun 8, 2013 at 11:32 AM UTC
Sick dreadlock disease
I am not much different
warmed by your baggage
The most elusive
you can’t love me with no heart
but the seeds still sprout
Up against the wall
charred and naked, you remain
hung like awkward Christ.
Met you at Metro
you told me you could love me
nerdy hipster ***
Blackened ***** thoughts
I ******* killed Nikki Sixx
just to lick your boots
Harangued by drunkards
don’t want a **** up my ***
but thank you kindly
Sit on ***** and spin
lustful carousel, how cute
rinse off daddy’s frown
Aug 8, 2011
Aug 8, 2011 at 2:28 AM UTC
she opens a pack of
sheffield english type number five cigarettes
i rest my head in her lap
as she reads a french newspaper
its raining in paris and theres a girl there who is unhappy
dreams of romantic places never have sad girls in them
she must be a tourist
she sips some strange brew of teas
that has a heavy bouquet
loam and flowers..like a sweet wine
she suddenly laughs and translates a piece of the
french news for me
but i dont hear what she says
i only hear the rich beauty of her voice
i only hear the captivating beauties of her
i lean up and kiss her
she tastes of the sea and english cigarettes
i am lost in her essence and her her girlish delights
she pokes me and makes me look at a photograph in
the paris newspaper...its the sad girl
she looks english
that graceful beautiful elegant sadness
that only english girls can speak without ever saying a word
jezebel sips her tea and smokes her english sheffield cigarette
holding it like girls hold cigarettes in that dainty way
i forget the english girl and her sadness
as i lay looking into the eyes of this dreadlock hippie queen
janis joplin plays softly from her mp3
shes tapping her bejewelled toes to the ancient music
bachelors in literature she loves the written word
she has read everything ever written by anyone
she has read her way through forty years worth of poetry by me
and corrected my atrocious spelling along the way
this is morning in her arms
now you know why i am so in love with her
now you see why she is everything to me
she leans down and lays a single tender kiss on my cheek
and tells me she loves me
this is heaven
Mar 21, 2014
Mar 21, 2014 at 6:44 AM UTC
her afternoon daydream
done for the day is now folded
as the sun slips behind the trees
the lush green leaves burn with golden light
as afternoon gives way to night
clouds once fat with rain from the sea
now race to the west
seeking the mountains where
ground touches sky
her afternoon daydream wiped away
by her lips a neon red gloss movement
these two dreadlock angels
sunbathing ******* in our backyard
on the verges of my mind
no words to her glances
just checking on a tapping old crow
tapping the inky surface of a tablet
tapping tapping
her afternoon face appears suddenly
at my shoulder as she slips me a kiss
tapping at the portals of my soul
the sun having set
the trees now only rustling shapes framed
against the stars
the lush green leaves
burn with the fainter glow of distant suns
as my heart burns faintly for distant loves
but it is my woman
her dreadlocked patchouli scented body
wrapped around me
its her in my heart
its her who burns brightly in me
who ignites me
to burn with the golden glow of
a setting sun
Nov 26, 2013
Nov 26, 2013 at 11:19 AM UTC
the other side of shatterbox's wall
is my room
stretch my hand out
feel the warmth of sun on bare skin
turn my closed eyes to the sky
and drink in the day like wine
intoxicating and bitter aftertastes
but cool and filling the senses
i slake souls thirst for essence of a gluttons bread and butter
taking the dreadlock girl to bed with me
she makes headway to her notions
of making a home here and finding a reason to stay
but i am wary of the fast female now that
i am so entangled within the gears of this past one
my lusts seep from her and soil the sheets
she laughs at this unconcerned
we go for dinner and we laugh and play
on the beach
she loves to be in love
she loves to whisper under the sheets long into the night
even when we are the only two there
i dont want another relationship
i dont want to repeat the last one
grapple with eachother till dawn
and smelling like fresh *** we dash out to the store
get doughnuts and coffee
she eats doughnuts the same way i do
i dont want a relationship
its the wine talking
but the shatterbox man next door
has reminded me that its too easy in this world to end
up alone in a room with nothing but your thoughts
Jul 6, 2013
Jul 6, 2013 at 10:41 PM UTC
And he's provocative, a provocateur, a beacon of free speech and foul speech and vague speech and pointed speech, pacing the Conference Room Alamo on the ground floor of the Hilton, testing his lapel mike, asking the crowd of eighty, ninety to move to the front rows, and he mouths something to the photographer, a dreadlock'd skin and bones white boy, and the photographer flanks the crowd, angling the shot to solidify the intended narrative: he is a provocateur, a popular provocateur, a staunch opponent of political correctness (which this bystander must note strangely equates to a champion of hate speech), a former poster child for the alt-right, but—and quoting here—he says, "I cannot be pigeonholed," and perhaps that's it, the secret to his former success, his viral, shapeless nature, a terrorist of language and persona, and perhaps that's it, the secret to his demise, his shape forming, his identity emerging from the podcast ghettos and GOP speaking gigs, and he's on the stage and he's in all white and this is intentional, this is the redemption tour, the other-side tour, and the crowd claps now as he pumps his arms (at this point in the presentation they used to shout, I should point out), and he calls Hillary Clinton "Satan's ingrown **** hair," and the men in the audience laugh and pant and cough, and he spends fifteen minutes on fake news and hit pieces and the nuance of video editing and how liberal snowflakes won't stop protesting his appearances (for clarity here, there were no protestors at this event), and he wraps everything rather quickly (especially for the $150 ticket price) and says he has a minute for questions, and a young man, twenty-five or so, asks for tips on becoming the God King of Internet Trolls, and he, the popular provocateur, says, "Ah. The next generation is coming up from behind."
Mar 7, 2017
Mar 7, 2017 at 4:58 PM UTC
she forgives the notion
that her photographs are images
to her they are epic tales
to her they are living creatures with lives of their own
they speak to her
worlds full of life and motion
they jump up and get personal with you
still life breathing in motion implied
a girl with dreadlocks moving against the
trees in background
you can sense her laughter
you can feel the warmth of the sunshine
taste her sweat and perfume
epic tales to be told silently to your eyes
beautiful thoughts captured still life
growing in the heart
taste of her dreadlock beauty's hand
Jun 9, 2014
Jun 9, 2014 at 12:32 PM UTC
the goddess deadlocked sweetly
her pale eyes pierce my soul
with the words i hear in her face
reproach me for laying loves upon the alter
of her freedoms
she lifts one delicate hand
signify
but it is her warm hand that catches my eye
for i know within that strength
within that tender caress of a woman's gentle forgiveness
i could find redemption
tears break upon my face like waves
as i struggle to find the words to sway her
this dreadlock princess goddess woman
lifts one hand
signify
her swift eye
and pale thin lips do shine far too brightly
the goddess deadlocked sweetly
please forgive me
Jan 17, 2014
Jan 17, 2014 at 7:12 PM UTC
her scarred lip held a song
it was a hard song
moving like a candle on the dusty road
restless in the bitter wind
feel it in your dry mouth like the taste of snakes
feel it like a misery of the dry sand
but its her song and she sings it to me now
as she gathers the weeds and small bitter things
that will be our penance as a meal
i cast out a whip and its thorny threads
and it catches her eye
looking into me
the sea tilts
and capsizes the rowboat carrying her song to me
my hair is a dreadlock at the root
my hair ends in a fray
which end would you choose
i told her the fray
because the devil rides the dread
like a wild horse its eyes aflame
she holds my hand and will not speak
i kiss her hair
and wait for the sun to save us
and the candle burns brightly on the dusty road
the devil bears the burden of our wares
in exchange we carry his brother
she cradles this child of our fate
it tangles its tiny fist in her dreadlocked hair
and i saw that the fray was mine alone
so i tangled it in my lips
for my own song
a soft one of lovers
May 9, 2014
May 9, 2014 at 12:37 AM UTC
Trippin and falling, high like i can’t touch the ground proper
im stallin and falling like prophetic time stoppers
so stop!
and watch a television show, because when it comes to us you just can’t know
inside the body, outside of time, shulgin synthesized drugs parody the mind.
seen black holes ebb and flow, but you think you on a ro’?
Put on ZINNs shews and check the news
HEADLINE TONIGHT:
PSYCHONAUGHTS PREACHING TO THE MASSES
FROM THE pew pew pews….
our lazers are in favor
ignite the light,
PEW@!
mind blown dead slaver.
2) Silence as my psyche gets psychedelically psychonaugtic, toppin my minds eye-conic depiction of psychotropics, an ocean of dreams, im sailing through thoughts, so potent it seems, l on the drop, this is some psycho-logic……
3)…..Naughty nautic. Sailing through waves of rhymes, try to , but when it comes to the jugger-or-naught, you can’t stop it.
so we dreadlock the dreadnaught just so god can fill the hair lock,
fall from the sky, slow down and reverse this verse,
cause there is no up or down, just forward or rewound,
straight
****** LOGIC
Feb 19, 2016
Feb 19, 2016 at 1:35 PM UTC
sitting here in the late summer daylight
watching her tending to the line
see all her strength and beauty
know her complexity's and her easy smiles
know the girl kicking off her jeans backseat in the cool night
know the woman standing here by her man
everything iv ever wanted
no half measures...no lies
and i gather her up in my arms
gather up our wondrous dreamin
and we weave us a blanket of sun and stars
wrap it round us like a hearts lovin arms
we walk it on down by the old cathedral
sit hand in hand on the steps of forevermore
kissing our hellos and smile to eachother
no one will tread on our sacred stones
no one can stop the sweet love that shines in us
no half measures...no lies
my dreadlock honey asks me
to speak to all of you
weave you a poem
tell you the tale
how we had been two very lost souls
crashed into eachother in deepest dark places
of the world
saved eachothers lives
ran for the border and survived
now madly in love
no half measures...no lies
into the forevermore
Aug 26, 2014
Aug 26, 2014 at 11:42 AM UTC
she came down out of the backwoods
looking for a better life
wearing a wreath of daisy's in her golden hair
and a grey dress a flowin
out of the morning fog into the bright daylight
of his brand new day
he sees her right off
like a bolt of lightening
she strikes all of his senses in a sudden storm
of knowing that she's the one he has
been seeking all his black diamond life
she stopped at the cabaret
and sat by the piano player
who played a song about strangers
on a collision course with desperate love
or terrible disaster
she never hears the song end
cause now its playing in her mind as she eyes him
across the crowed room
his lean face shadowed
by the flickering lights of the stage
he sits to a game of cards to buy some time
but hes just laid down a sheep with wolves
but benith the dirt of the road is his
soldiers dress blues uniform
she wanders up pretending to watch
but she really just wanted to be near him
touch a lock of his hair
he felt her there and drank in the sensation
and was drunk with her presence
the piano player burst into song
as the two of them burst in the fire of lusts
and ended up in a small room at the top of the stair
his black diamond life
and her dreadlock hair
nobody thought woulda made a match
but there they are riding into the fading sunrise
Nov 13, 2013
Nov 13, 2013 at 5:32 AM UTC
You will find me
In willows
Plucking fire files
From the evening
As poets ink
and weave lines
It is where I am
Most humble
Here under
Dreadlock canopy
It harbors and sings
An evening sonnet
As leaves tune the wind
My ink flows well here
Soft and forgiving
Along the parchment
Like the tamed northeast
Blowing through limbs above
You will find me
In willows
Lost in pages
Of past loves and
Attempts for forgiveness
This timber is tall and full
Sending down strains
Of blades that I forge
When in reach
I pull to review
An inspiration, a memory
A past love
I sometimes wonder when
My willow will give in
And not lend its
Strains down to me
That is why I reach farther
Holding what I can
Because frankly
I like being lost
Lost in willows
Aug 22, 2013
Aug 22, 2013 at 4:12 PM UTC
if you saw my eyes
the ones that couldn't fill the tears
the blank eyes
the ones that cant show feelings
the ones that were once bright
that showed happiness for you
if you saw my hair
the hair that I dyed because you loved colour
the hair that is now a mess
the hair unclean and became its own dreadlock
glad something of me is joint as one
if you saw my skin
the skin so dry
the skin so uncared for
the skin so colourless
if you saw my wrist
where your name is in ink
where it'll always be
the only part of you left
if you saw my heart
but you can see that whenever you want
you took it with you
I wander if you are looking after it
the way only you can
Dec 30, 2019
Dec 30, 2019 at 6:31 PM UTC
she moves sleepheaded in the bed next to me
and in the stillness of the mornings dim light
her hand finds its way across my chest and like an idle dancer spins
nonchalant circles of heart shaped wishes on my skin
her lips draw next to my ear and
with a soft wet sound give a tender
lesson in the beauties of her naughty delights
the first tentative kiss in the tempest of her seductions
she wraps herself up in my arms
a gift to own darker delights
and caresses my eyes with her own
the soft texture of her gaze thick with passions and desires
deep with her heart touching mine
and in that gaze i feel her soul moving as one with mine
as our kisses melt us
she pleads with her hands all along my face
and down along my body
she begs and teases the flickering desires
of our heat that rise like the fires of a thousand suns
and with delighted sounds from deep within her
as she explores and plunders
as we dance in the tangled sheets
she finds again the desires that go hand in hand
with her hearts loves
that go hand in hand with her hearts dreams
timeless times later
as we lay entwined in the afterglow of our love's hot tempest
and with such a tender and timid voice looking deep into my eyes
tells me she loves me and no other
i brush back the strand of hair that
has fallen to her sweat bound brow
and kissing her gently
tell her that i too love her and no other
this is no ordinary love affair
this is one soul romancing another with every carnal delight
with every souls true treasure of loving embrace
this is passion
she is my dreadlock princess
i am her poet in shining armor
this is how love was meant to be
Apr 7, 2014
Apr 7, 2014 at 7:26 PM UTC
she moves sleepy-headed in the bed next to me
and in the stillness of the mornings dim light
her hand finds its way across my chest and like an idle dancer spins
nonchalant circles of heart shaped wishes on my skin
her lips draw next to my ear and
with a soft wet sound give a tender
lesson in the beauties of her naughty delights
the first tentative kiss in the tempest of her seductions
she wraps herself up in my arms
a gift to own darker delights
and caresses my eyes with her own
the soft texture of her gaze thick with passions and desires
deep with her heart touching mine
and in that gaze i feel her soul moving as one with mine
as our kisses melt us
she pleads with her hands all along my face
and down along my body
she begs and teases the flickering desires
of our heat that rise like the fires of a thousand suns
and with delighted sounds from deep within her
as she explores and plunders
as we dance in the tangled sheets
she finds again the desires that go hand in hand
with her hearts loves
that go hand in hand with her hearts dreams
timeless times later
as we lay entwined in the afterglow of our love's hot tempest
and with such a tender and timid voice looking deep into my eyes
tells me she loves me and no other
i brush back the strand of hair that
has fallen to her sweat bound brow
and kissing her gently
tell her that i too love her and no other
this is no ordinary love affair
this is one soul romancing another with every carnal delight
with every souls true treasure of loving embrace
this is passion
she is my dreadlock princess
i am her poet in shining armor
this is how love was meant to be
Oct 14, 2014
Oct 14, 2014 at 6:46 PM UTC
how did i breath before i knew you
how is it possible that i existed before you were here
fill my senses with everything you
that smile that is a summer day unleashed for me alone
the way you brush back that dreadlock from your eyes
the way i can feel you with every inch of my bare skin
from ten feet away
the way you taste on my lips
how did i think, breath, exist before you found me
you are a waking dream
its in the way you walk
its in that brilliant light in your soft brown eyes
its in the beads woven into your dreads
its in your ****** rings
i lived in a cold dark mountain world
full of sinister people
you saved me in every way
i was not alive till there was you
i did not exist till there was you
my lover
my wife
Sep 20, 2014
Sep 20, 2014 at 8:06 AM UTC
oh my darling to be
asphyxiated in your dreadlock
hammered by your toes, right on the head
but first
please grant this lonely *******
the kiss
of your inverted ******
slowly picking off all your petals
darling tell me
when will I finally be allowed
to drown
in your freckles
Nov 11, 2015
Nov 11, 2015 at 6:09 PM UTC
942 days 14 hours and 5 minutes
Since I lost you
Each day I remember you
And tell myself you will come back
And I'll spend time with you
And I will tell you how I love you
How I miss having you around
I wanted to write something for you
As soon as you left us
But I couldn’t bring myself to accept that
To accept that you were gone
To accept that you wont come back
Before I lost you
Death was a myth
And funerals were celebration of life in disguise
I didn’t know loss until you left
I didn’t know hurt until you were no more
I never understood regret and guilt
Until you couldn’t hear my apology
And so I cried
For all the times I refused to pick your calls
Because I was mad at you
For all the times I didn’t share my poems with you
For the times I hated you for abandoning me
And I cried for you leaving without a goodbye
I cried because death took you
And I never said how much I loved you
And even when everyone was saying goodbyes
And even singing praises about you
I knew if you were around you laughed
Because you never understood human hypocrisy
Because you knew those praises weren't real
Because you knew you were kind but never meek
So they gave you false praises and cried because they had to
And I realized even in death they misunderstood you
Cause even in death all you would want is them to be real with you
And all around me were people filled with guilt
Not sadness just guilt
Though the world might have forgotten about you
I didn’t for a second allow myself the thought
I wanted to remember you
As a reminder
Of what happens when we hold grudges
Of what happens when we don’t forgive
Of how we lose because of pride
Of how painful it is to lose and feel guilty
And so when I looked at your casket
There you were eyes closed
With that single dreadlock on your forehead
I begged you to wake up and forgive me
To smile at me, heck even hit me
But you were gone and it was too late
And I saw something I couldn’t forget
You in a wooden box lying in it
With that face of yours
That made me angry some days
And made me happy most days
And when they lowered you to the ground
When they made you one with soil
A piece of me followed you to the after life
A piece I will never recover
Others lost a friend, a son and boyfriend
I just lost a brother I had abandoned
A part of me I could never get back
And each day I pray for your forgiveness
And pray for peace of heart
Joyce Tshibasu
Dec 11, 2018
Dec 11, 2018 at 4:39 AM UTC