"louisy" 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
Multiple braids equal multiple roots,
in the direction my fingers scoots.
Loose braids,
robust cornrow braids in a stack,
chanting all the way down my back.
A loose rope,
or a robust bridge.
You know which root to take….
Justine Louisy
Copyright © Justine Louisy 2016
All Rights Reserved
Jun 29, 2020
Jun 29, 2020 at 8:26 AM UTC
Welcome abroad Thameslink.
Grab a camera a wink at
Shaftsbury’s bootylicious dancers.
Pen in gear and know the answers to
the parade of pub quizzes.
Let your strands of raw seismic frizzes scream
on bonds lightening Thames RIB.
The Louis Vuitton wallet ‘on fleek’ for that crib inside
the Shards slender diamond belly.
Feet stay in groove with that Kidston welly against
the roaring mud at the wireless festival.
Pre dem soulful struts of de Notting hill carnival spicy
spirits, nani wines and **** kisses.
Safari hunt watch out for those hisses on
centre stage of the primeval in the zoo.
Grab my hand and come on boo steady
your bags and steady your feet on the thrilling
ride of Oxford street.
Reminisce its entirety and say goodbye.
As we take in our final view on the London eye.
Justine Louisy
Copyright ©Justine Louisy 2016
All Rights Reserved
Jul 3, 2020
Jul 3, 2020 at 2:19 AM UTC
Be the salt lamp,
that purifies the delinquent dust,
and leaves a path of glow,
so the dark can finally see.
Justine Louisy
Copyright © Justine Louisy 2020
All Rights Reserved
Jul 29, 2020
Jul 29, 2020 at 4:35 AM UTC
I know these people.
Their voice box doesn’t even need to be awake.
I know their character by the way their lips are dressed.
A streak of blue,
I know their brain is sweating stress.
A display of rose,
I know their flirtatious fever is always contagious.
A heap of crust,
I know their anger stings the meaning of trust.
A stream of moisture,
I know their soul sooths and heals the shadows.
A thin size,
I know they seek comfort in a box.
A big size,
I know they feed off centre stage.
A nest of cuts,
I know they want the gift of love.
Justine Louisy
Copyright © Justine Louisy 2020
All Rights Reserved
Jul 25, 2020
Jul 25, 2020 at 1:15 PM UTC
Tickles of the straw fingers,
it will be alright they say.
Wave of the centre wind,
the saint’s at rest on the air’s kisses.
Join us they exclaim.
The scarlet macaw on her acclaimed throne,
art of ranking colours,
colours of a warrior’s triumph.
Rejoice in her name.
Rejoice!
Rejoice!
Bush deer content with the sound of emptiness,
the wolfs an ancient myth.
Bumbles bees retreating from the flowers,
along the yellow brick road.
The sky will never shed a tear
Today.
Tomorrow.
Next week.
Next month.
Next year.
In life.
Gabriel meadow. You are filled with my prospective destiny.
God bless you.
Justine Louisy
Copyright ©Justine Louisy 2016
All Rights Reserved
Jul 2, 2020
Jul 2, 2020 at 4:58 AM UTC
Biro the brave heart,
liberated the wasted words,
that layed lifeless on the rippled land of paper,
imprisoned and not found.
Words that have been fed with feeble fever,
swollen from the neglect injected into its letter limbs.
Neglect from the puzzle prime minister.
But biro the brave heart pen,
together with the motion from his noble ‘hand’ steed,
slowly walking around each word,
in a captivating circle,
made out of incentive ink.
The circle of meaningful medicine,
that cures the words emptiness,
and installs a ventilator
so, it can breathe value.
Words that are ready to breathe value,
the words I am looking for so,
that my figure of speech is finally alive.
Justine Louisy
Copyright © Justine Louisy 2020
All Rights Reserved
Jul 28, 2020
Jul 28, 2020 at 5:11 AM UTC
I know your young feet have the urge to drive a high heel,
but they cannot feel the heartbeats of the ground of soil,
beating beginnings and growth.
So, abide to this simple troth for your naked feet,
to meet with beginnings and growth,
first.
Justine Louisy
Copyright © Justine Louisy 2020
All Rights Reserved
Aug 5, 2020
Aug 5, 2020 at 4:11 AM UTC
So, I have a friend called water,
you can see straight through her most times as
she is so clear in her manner,
but she always has no taste in conversation,
because I can sometimes see,
the traces of dirt she carries with her,
and I’ve come to realise she clearly has no filter.
She often soaks you with shock,
you have to run and sit somewhere tranquil to pacify your stressed heart.
She’s always very cold,
and has to be forced to warm up to you.
People say she’s a healthy fit for you,
but I would think twice before you invite her into your home.
Justine Louisy
Copyright © Justine Louisy 2020
All Rights Reserved
Jul 22, 2020
Jul 22, 2020 at 4:53 AM UTC
Crisp mornings.
The crispness inflamed the soles of my stem.
I shiver at the thought.
The shiver ponders my mind to the last days I ....
Enough.
The succulent hands of the summer breeze is here.
Myself and the other folks sway and cheer,
sitting on the tailored twigs of Oldman the oak tree.
Spencer the sun glazing our trichomes.
Warmth.
We exchange gentle rustling two and fro,
like the sound of an ancient ***** awaiting to uplift the show.
Blackbirds and wood pigeons in the air,
up against each other to strike the berry in the bush goal.
What a perfect life I’m pleased to see.
Maggie magpie why do you perch on my branch so?
your bewitching colours like a piercing cry,
surely I’m not yet to..
The howling of the clouds,
the punches of lightening,
The heavens they open,
good gracious how frightening.
The kicks of the autumn breeze is here.
Stomata is failing.
Stomata is failing.
I’m latching onto the twig,
my ancient armchair.
Carotenoids and Xanthophyll’s,
dehydrated wrinkly skin.
Gut wrenching red anthocyanin,
like lucifer leukaemia stabbing my soul.
Crisp mornings.
I disconnect.
I fall.
I hit.
I lay.
In the flurries of snow,
amongst my other folks.
Oldman the oak tree hospice is empty once again.
RIP
Justine Louisy
Copyright © Justine Louisy 2016
All Rights Reserved
Jun 30, 2020
Jun 30, 2020 at 10:09 AM UTC
Walk through the rays.
Walk through the rain.
Walk through the wind.
Walk through the sleet.
Walk through the hailstones.
Walk through the snow.
Steadily.
Life comes in all moods,
like the weather.
Take your time,
and walk through each mood,
steadily.
Justine Louisy
Copyright © Justine Louisy 2020
All Rights Reserved
Jul 1, 2020
Jul 1, 2020 at 5:36 AM UTC
See,
I’m not your normal kind as
it’s difficult to find the
dedication in me.
Yes, I know you payed a small fee,
to buffer your careless cars looks or
to tend to your metal head hooks.
But believe me when I say,
get ready as you better find another way in
dealing with your troubled goods.
Meanwhile, I will confine myself in a multitude of bin lining hoods.
Justine Louisy
Copyright © Justine Louisy 2017
All Rights Reserved
Jun 30, 2020
Jun 30, 2020 at 10:13 AM UTC
My shadows are out there fighting.
The click of my fingers are shouting not
humming at every beat.
The hairs on my head shedding their
curly laughter.
My vision is chasing the intruding floaters.
My throat is frying pins and needles for my supper.
There are eroded rocks in my mouth.
My breath the stench of life.
I hope you smell it as you walk past.
Justine Louisy
Copyright © Justine Louisy 2017
All Rights Reserved
Jun 28, 2020
Jun 28, 2020 at 6:30 AM UTC
Fly kicked from the hot oil,
the one that said,
“I will coat you in goldenness!”
Your soaked by the cloths tears of bleach a
playful bath-time of toxic shrieks.
Not as sweet as you were.
You tremble into the duplicitous trap of Charlotte’s web.
Tangle and twine.
Magic won’t save you.
You can’t hide away from the Pitbull’s saliva squad…..
Kinetic + Kitchen = your fate.
Enjoy!
Justine Louisy
Copyright ©Justine Louisy 2016
All Rights Reserved
Jul 4, 2020
Jul 4, 2020 at 11:57 AM UTC