"locs" poems
welcome to houston texas
we roll swangas n swishers
we might hit cha
with the torch
if ya dont know where ya stand
in the ghetto we never let go
of painful memories
we got brothers get shot by cops
to brothers getting got
by they own i try not to led a path of sin on my own
phone home
soon to be at the crossroads
knockin at thugs mansion door
got **** how did i get smoked
i thought i was backed by my locs
now im sittin with malcolm
and martin n garvey
enjoying a smoke
wish i could reach deep into the pains
of black folks brain
and let em know
we used to be kings n queens
but **** dont flipped
once they change the color of the script
but ***** i peep game since i was embryo
last of a dying breed corrupt seed
we can changr indeed
we just gotta change waht our minds feed
but we too intrigue
from the worlds scent
a ghetto ih
now that've got your intention
lets form a syndication
reform strategize black nation
we all brothers from haitan to jamacian makin
nothing but flawless beats
smokin swisher sweets at the swap meet
or better yet the bayou classic
listenin to magic
1 0 2 point one everybody having fun
without the use of a gun
buts ther3s always one
that wanna start ****
got his wig split
now take a picture for yo casket
wish times wasnt so hard
but im always on the guard
sneaky *** white supremacy
pushin gay antics
miss with that semantic
yall aint slick
so let me hit ya with some of the realist
rhymes that make up for the crimes cuz im
tired of this ****** poor livin
everyday sinning
no winning stuck at a permenant loss
but somehow my soul still grows
even though the world be a ghetto the ghetto
Oct 18, 2016
Oct 18, 2016 at 9:45 PM UTC
Closet freak..
As the lust in my eye turns into pure fantasies of how I want me on you in the most compromising positions...
Stroke game on repeat as these walls begin to beat on your meat...
Eyes closed because no witness to confess this sticky mess..our souls is on fire and this love making has turn into a straight **** fest...
Faster as my emotions begin to cloud my better judgement...fuck it...i want you..
Is an UNDERSTATEMENT..let's see if you can keep up...
Under me...Is how you're gonna be...
stat is how I'm cumm'n
E..every inch touching my deepest spots
Ment...ally seeing you hitting it from da back..this is sex..straight ****** on a new level.
Pull my locs as I **** your **** maybe you'll pop as I look in your eyes because you and I both know what this mouth can and will do for you..fuck my pain away...hips rocking ...and they say a big girl couldnt keep up...well they cant compete with an arch like this...make em weak at each peak...now say my name..because you're all mines..on a new level confession of a closet freak!
Nikki.the.goddess
Apr 6, 2019
Apr 6, 2019 at 8:35 AM UTC
I'm just trying to find my purpose
Isn't that the theory behind what our time here is?
And when I leave here let it be with no fear.
Not on my knees begging please,
But on my feet like a beast!
This is me. Here I am. Hear me ROAR.
Watch me soar. See me fly. Or pass me by.
I don't have time for the negative,
It's draining mental sedative.
I need that progressive ****
Sapiosexual. Heavy Mentalist.
Learn not to speak when you should listen
Like when your creep'n at the corner
and your mom's in the kitchen.
Drop'n that real knowledge
The kinda stuff they didn't teach in college.
Facts I'll keep with me for life
Because somehow I didn't know what she ment
but I knew she was right.
Yeah yeah, mom was right.
She said **** ain't easy and **** gets tight.
You gottah learn to roll with the punches
Follow your hunches.
Do what make you happy
even if that means excessive fat jeans. (Eat, eat)
Let them call your hair *****
Because little do they know tangled in these curls
Is a good *** leave in conditioner,
And the heart of a girl
Who's as strong as her locs
Who just doesn't know when to stop.
Who isn't afraid to top rock, knock down her obstacles.
Hulk ****** clear vision
Though I'll be honest,
Sometimes I don't know what to seek
It always seems to be hiding.
But I know, what ever it is I'll be sure to find it.
Jan 23, 2015
Jan 23, 2015 at 6:08 PM UTC
Sitting on trains plastered in rainbows
Hues of the fairest gray periods
Heart tired
Eyes glued
My grandmother always said not to stare...
I got caught in the naps of his hair
His 6 foot awesomeness
Maybe he's texting about business
His holiday arrangements...
Maybe his locs long for her
Maybe he tells her she's amazing
That he cant wait to see her
He'll kiss away her fears
Install the mirage of his emotions
Hold her, rub her back
3:00 am "you're beautiful"
Dreams of morning oral soliloquys...
Awakened by his agenda
She's remissed she couldn't wake earlier
To spend those last moments glancing out
Into the moments paradigm
To play a lil' house within his eyes ...
Suddenly
A faint streak of saliva on her cheek
muah
He's off...
She walks into the lavatory
Wondering why the hell the bathroom light's on...
LP
Dec 2, 2020
Dec 2, 2020 at 3:08 PM UTC
I am a black girl with locs
I wear head wraps and put on African prints
I do not speak with an African accent
or religiously follow the traditions.
For that I am not African enough.
One says he loves me
One looks at me enough to burn holes into me
One comes looking for me only to act like he doesn't know me
One winks and seeks attention when I'm done giving it
One.... one said He can never like me
That one I think I like most
For that I'm foolish.
I am a small girl
I however seek to loose weight more
than people way fatter than me
They all say my size is okay but they are not
my brain and thus don't get to feel fat the way I do
For that they say I'm ungrateful.
I appreciate black men
I just prefer white men
I try not to date black men long time
For that I am racist to them.
I speak to my parents but don't go out
of my way to spend time with them
Past hurt and experiences and avoidance
of future heated discussions leads me
For that I am ungrateful.
I sit in my house and cry.
I cry at worship and feel less and lost most of the time
I take smiley pictures and eat a lot of ice cream
For that I am happy.
I love eating at restaurants and cafes
I love ice cream , cake and wine
I don't like food and rarely eat
I take pictures of my food and ice cream a lot
For that I am a show off
All assumptions, all untrue, all your thoughts
Ask me my name and hold me when I feel I'm falling apart
Love me on days I cant love myself
Ask me about me first.
Then think truths about me.
Jan 7, 2019
Jan 7, 2019 at 7:04 AM UTC
I forgot to stop by the post again
But the kitchen is already burning.
The walls are aging in bursts of thick black wrinkles
That roll
Like the unsteady jiggle of jumping baby legs.
They are begging for steady wrists.
And kiss.
The pinch
And **** routine
Of freshly minted aunties.
You see, I couldn't find an envelope anywhere.
So this foil gone have to do.
This aluminum ain't no ruse.
Ain't no poetic device
Manifested in the silver breasted
Flesh.
I swear
I had this whole thing
planned out differently.
Me, a gray storm of locs
Running beneath morning's chin,
Wishing you safe travels
From the boat of her collar bone.
You, a memory tucked
Inside my favorite tooth.
The two of us,
A tuft of life only separated
By a mountain
Called Heaven.
I had planned on helping you climb
This one day.
But the kitchen is already burning.
Tomorrow, that journalist you look up to
Will write
About how another one of our daughters
Painted herself visible.
And she gone wonder why.
In this foil, rests my skin. You give this to her.
Here, X marks the spot.
Tell her that if this skin
Is such a gem worth fighting for,
She can keep it.
Nov 1, 2014
Nov 1, 2014 at 3:13 PM UTC
She taught me that if the first one isn't just right try again
She also taught me that each try that you risk could be fatal or peaceful
She taught me you can't walk into the beast's home without being aware of it
Sep 24, 2016
Sep 24, 2016 at 11:30 AM UTC
I keep running, running, running
A young girl trying to find her place in the world
A grown woman trying to be respected for who she really is
I look back at the past and
Down on the present
And hope to God that the future gives me something to look up to
Family curses trink’ling trails of hate in my blood
Reminders of loved ones who were hurt by ones they loved once
Inspirations inspiring me to keep chasing my dreams but reality is …reality
I wake up and wonder what proactive thing I can do today
But reality is reality.
And reality smacks me down and says “nothing”
I’m not a pessimist but I bear a weight with the wield of the world as its stamp
Its not on my back but its on my sisters’ back. It not in my home but its in my brothers’ home
Reverberating in my mind the terrible wonders of the world
Feeling ignorant, not knowing how to help
I read the world news to find out what to do
And lo’and behold a “disabled puppy can only walk in circles”
WHAT?!
Darfur must be a myth and I guess AIDS isn’t “in” anymore
I keep thinking..wait till I’m established
Wait till I’m out of this rut
My life will be holy and pure and intelligent. giving and tithing and..happy and busy…and.. **** and rich?
Cause that’s how it should be right?
Confusing
Why cant I be a soul sistah with locs that likes to listen to rock and give spoken word wearing knit hats and demanding answers? Then go home and maybe watch some anime.
I’m conflicted
I’m disdainful
I’m selfish
I’m vehemently out to get what I want because my forefathers died trying to get it for me
And you know what? I’m gonna get it, because while all this crap goes on in my brain and in my heart , in my family and in the world. Its going to stay at my heels because I keep running, running, running
Aug 26, 2014
Aug 26, 2014 at 10:32 PM UTC
Head spinning
Hands trembling
Body ready to give up
Tears rolling down in streams faster and faster
Mind confused
Lips quivering
Emotions all over the place
Doesn't know whether to feel betrayed or hate
Infuriated with everyone and everything
Thoughts were scrambled everywhere
Her brown curly locs no longer cascaded down her back
It now masqueraded her face
She wanted to be embraced
Wanted to feel like she felt before
Not this feeling, that she was foreign to
Her quiet gasp, her salty tears, and struggling whispers
She grabbed her chest and asked what is this ?
Aug 10, 2017
Aug 10, 2017 at 5:09 PM UTC
You can't put her in a box,
the walls'll collapse each attempt
beneath her choice of locs to rock
Visions voices no relent
Of overcoming lifes struggles
Those with surviving
and those within
Ridin along while it plays out
She don't care to fit in
She gon do it how she want
**** who & whatever she please
Shittin on every I'll wish
And she does it with ease
Dec 31, 2014
Dec 31, 2014 at 7:58 PM UTC
Dancing on the mangled
corpse of Jupiter, we recall
nothing but revelry. I wonder
about God and summer and
poor boyish ignorance.
There are eggshells in my hair,
or maybe they simply are
my locs. Snapping like shedskin,
left and right, they are an offering.
Divining me, divining you.
Pan-fried resistance,
Your tongue beckons
I am a celestial body
blindly hopping galaxies;
Devour me.
Jan 11, 2015
Jan 11, 2015 at 11:50 AM UTC
A bitter taste so bitter sweet
From what I can see that’s no description of me
Small locs and edgy face
It may be love but it’s bitter taste
I’m so confused and I never should question
What was your intentions of making this happen
As it creeps up
Try my hardest to play it cool
Flashbacks and flashbacks
From the corner of my eyes I can tell it’s you
Not so sudden not so quick
No you can’t have me like this
A bitter taste
Such a sour feel
I see images of a reflection laughing at me
Got a taste of refreshness
And still it never put my mind at ease
Greed
So selfish when we’re involved
I should’ve known this love had a strong hold
One that would never be divided
I don’t know why I tried it
With every step I’m cringing
Because how I feel I cannot hide it
Go far away from me
Even at a millions miles
I don’t wanna try it
I cannot get away
Set my mind at ease I no longer crave your presence
Cause it takes control over me
No control over my mind, thoughts and actions
Everytime I see you I get sweaty and nervous
Why do you torture me do you do it on purpose
But so long and goodbye
Easier said then done
I let you go but I know you won’t be gone for long
I say I want you gone but it’s fatal attraction
We no good for each other but we even better together
So long friend I won’t write another letter
This bitter taste in my mouth
Seem to have made me better
Apr 17, 2021
Apr 17, 2021 at 6:35 AM UTC
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._
Jan 8, 2025
Jan 8, 2025 at 9:05 PM UTC
Here's a poem that I wrote the other night at late o'clock while working my usual midnight shift. Personally I think this is one of my best pieces because I usually don't write stuff like this, I call it "sappy" haha but thats just because I'm such a boy sometimes. Anyway, I like this because I'm a little less inhibited in this piece and you guys get to catch me being girlie. Hope ya like it.
I WANT LOVE. I want late o'clock conversing that leads into morning. I want your aspirations to become ours. I want to lay in the security of strong arms and broad shoulders.
I want good days and bad days and great days and drama and I want love.Love thats deep and blue with strings and knots and ropes and braids and faith and trust, you know?
I want my own key for cloud nine.
I want love recursive because it's too close to perfect not to do it again.skin meeting skin.
hands meeting hips
Lips meeting lips feet in the air and locs in the wind.
Love that embraces what I embrace and you embrace and the differences between them.
I want to study the map in the palm of your hands and follow it and create new destinations. I want the painting we'll create when our complexions are twisted together, then another and another.
I want altruism, recklessness, spontaneity, pure concentrated freshly squeezed love with extra pulp.
And I think 'pulp' is an ugly word but I want love so good that I just might wake up one morning and write a song for pulp because all o'sudden everything's beautiful.
I WANT prayed-up non-perverted divine order love.
Love that ascends and evolves; that challenges scientists, intrigues mathematicians, and inspires artists. I want love, and as far as I'm concerned that is the only way it comes.
Sharde' Fultz 3:56 am Aug.31 @wk
Aug 26, 2014
Aug 26, 2014 at 10:27 PM UTC
Must I tell you about her locs,
That dance with the rhythm of her hips,
Watching their twist, and turn – a testament
To the tangled thoughts in every strand, a reflection
Of the tender care she donates upon her hair.
And would I love to keep a lock, and key
To her locs, being a LONG story in itself—
Free, vibrant, and unapologetically bold
The sunlight catches the rich hues of her hair;
Tales of her heritage, struggles, and her triumphs.
I swear, I promise; I must say...
Her locs are the echoes of the laughter
And tears that have shaped her journey.
Feb 20, 2025
Feb 20, 2025 at 12:25 PM UTC
I now recognize my youth
she hasn't been gone long
more recently
ending of one
begin a new song
I understand what happened to my mom.
my youthful days were free
in a way they no longer are.
yet freer today still.
motherhood and maturity,
marriage and low energy purging,
self imposed isolation for healing
and not really sleeping
have aged me.
not physically as much
though I see the crows feet
creeping in quietly
they don't bother me
passed through family,
lines my brow can sustain.
these babies remind me of my youth
times of a quieter mind
and a deeper desire to travel.
now all I daydream of is roots.
the underground is astounding.
my locs keep growing
rooted at the crown
I feel the beat pumping out
the essence is vibrating
causing me to giggle
youthful in my soul.
my locs grew up with me
we continue to mature
rooted together, they extending outward
an extension of my being.
tentacles that develop meaning
and develop me.
and with each development
the youthful cloak
gets thinner and lighter
translucence promised
as the days pass by.
this life's lessons heavy handed
on the front end.
pure passion for each message to come
only gratitude and love to my youth
She,
the master of my mind.
Dec 30, 2014
Dec 30, 2014 at 9:39 PM UTC
you hear my song
as the wind blows
it sings tunes
of generations past
times before record,
that were necessary
for now.
my song whistles
through
corridors of rock
races with the geese
drifts through a monarchs form
provides space for the hummer
its wings buzz
moving faster than my mind.
DONG DONG DONG
the bell welcomes my song
it touches me with
vibrations
I am tuned to.
which radiate down and out
along the locs
through to the soil
nourishing my
mind,
her smile.
the pitch of my song
depends on the medium
in the dawn and dusk
low and warm
at noon
charged to sing
inspirational seeds
so they can sprout, and
be left alone.
to send her children
into the wind
and then turn to dirt.
this is my song
wind song
bits of me release themselves
are carried off with the wind.
commune with bits of you
and ancestors,
circle the sphere
wisp through bamboo,
I breath again.
I taste you.
I breath the molecules,
out again.
they start their path
with the wind
again.
recombined, except argon.
the one wholly breathed
since the beginning
the wind will circle it
around until the end.
these bits of consciousness
will touch every lung
that needs it
connecting everything that is it.
I hear my song...
Jul 9, 2015
Jul 9, 2015 at 12:19 PM UTC
A permanent commitment of growth
Strength knowledge and wisdom waxed and positively twisted into the main stream.
Unique & rare is what you are to society. Bold and brave is what you stand for.
A lioness leading this jungle like world, marking her presence to protect not harm.
Informally blindsided by you. You remain loyal to your pack as I roam searching to return to mine and be home.
Jul 20, 2016
Jul 20, 2016 at 6:36 PM UTC
She built big and pretty
Got those wild ***** locs
Driving coils in her spring
She make what she got good
and plenty of it because
she know she comes from an old
divinity and in her roots
Come raging like a God with ashy skin
But she clean and got nature
on her side
and the cocoa butter smells real nice
She is the salt
the earth, the storms and as sacred as
the wind
Remember this always...always
Feb 25, 2017
Feb 25, 2017 at 7:00 PM UTC
HIS
EVERTYHING
RIGHT
Wanting you has left my soul suffocating...
Never realizing the length I would go to please you.. guilty by submission..becoming submissive inspite of me not belonging to you..pleasing you always came first..but for you its H.E.R...you say you prefer natural hair...I grew locs in spite of my free spirit that leads me to do a big chop annually...because to me that's me removing all the bad reminders...but for you I made that scarfice..inspite of you wanting H.E.R .....blemished skin...scars of heartache and pain...proclaiming you prefer naturally flawed..over this mac bottle that makes me feel completely irresistible because unlike other things it hides scars of what made me who I am...but for you I allow this bottle to go untampered with..unlike my heart always being tampered with...but H.E.R...is constantly on your mind.. never taking a moment to realize me putting you first...your only thoughts is of ....H.E.R..how to please and cater to H.E.R every desire...and need... "she has potential to make you happy"...when it's me that constantly strive to make you happy...consistantly taking you in deep until my muscles become weak...I can't compete...because even though I get on my knees and **** you deep...I'm still not H.E.R...and just because I made you ***** in one of your many random places...in fear of pro life with M.E because its H.E.R you desire..I've allowed my soul to weep...because by next week I'll be back in your sheets... giving you all of me...like a piece of prime meat..enough of me to fill what makes you weakkk..never understanding you want me mentally but her psychically...but she doesn't want you psychically...so you imagine H.e.r while doing M.e? I'm done with never being enough... but always too much for you...let her learn or care to know that you like a person that listens..you're a closed book..that pays attention to vivid detail..you do from the heart with happiness as a form of payment...liking your women of somewhat of a variety but not too much of a variety because if you lived in a world of H.E.R.'s you would be completely satisfied because her outer is what sets your soul on fire...allowing yourself to linger on what little she's gives because she's da bomb in everyway..bomb enough for you to hurt the feelings of someone that would've given you the world..but because my **** ain't "perky" and I'm not a size 8 my validation..means nothing....being super thick is more superficial..I'm self reliant..thick in all the right places..constantly loving you in all the wrong places....I'm not H.E.R I am M.E....My Everything on repeat...repent at my feet because my heart has always been on repeat...you have made me weak...we haven't spoken in weeks...
Nikki.the.goddess
Apr 17, 2019
Apr 17, 2019 at 11:04 AM UTC
She doesn't like to talk much when we're together. She's too busy thinking of him while I'm stroking her head, thinking of her. She twists and she turns, contorts herself into something desirable, because she doesn't believe for a second that she's already something desirable. At least, not to someone she loves. She paints her face, not to enhance the existing masterpiece, but to create a new one altogether. 'the muse,' she says smiling at me through the mirror, covered in self loathing and insecurity 'i have to look good for him, like me, but not me' she folds her luscious locs into waves of pity and hurt and she covers her scars and body with too tight tshirts and scarily short shorts, which is different from her usual "hipster ****** look. She loves baggy clothes. He prefers no clothes. I love her the way she is. I beg her not to change who she is, which is only ever met by anger and resentment. She thinks I love him too, that I want to ruin their chance to be together. I want to tell her she's beautiful, that she reminds me of the sunrise at 6am in summer, when the air is warm and dewy and when just a sliver of sunlight brightens your whole day. Because she is my sun, my moon, my whole universe. She is the centre and I can only gravitate around her in awe. These are the things I want to tell her, but she'd never speak to me again. She doesn't like to talk much when we're together. She's too busy thinking of him.
May 22, 2018
May 22, 2018 at 10:51 AM UTC
He talks so smooth, **** and sophisticated
He amplifies and exhilarates my dreams
Debonair dreadhead attraction
Heavenly fresh locs locked to my heart
Dazzling black diamond eyes
He is my wild
My smooth sensational high
I crave to dance in his sea of waves
Harbor his hot sauce in my heart
Marvel at his swirling chocolate thunder
How I hunger for his fragrant fluid flesh
To fuse to mine, enliven my mind
Bright bold trailblazer
He is a sultry sweet simile
Shimmering in my mouth
A spectacular amorous anaphora
Sliding along the walls of my throat
I want to feel his vibrant valiant masculineness
Lingering in my digestive system
Charm me with his hot starry wonderment
Change my world with his magical jazzy attractiveness
His flaming electric gregariousness
I yearn to venture to vivid thrilling sights
Within his scrumptious dimension
Melt into the steamy memories we make
The teasing wet, and long kisses we engage in
His invigorating fragrance flowing in my marvelous midst
Mar 26, 2022
Mar 26, 2022 at 8:15 PM UTC