"straightness" poems
Black power!
I stopped hiding from my roots, I do not let my natural tightly coiled strands become chemically manipulated into bone straightness. I'm no longer hiding from my roots.
My natural hair will represent this
I went on an interview today for a position as a dental assistant, checked out the office on the website right after and then
oh no
The staff is all white, what if I don't get hired because of...
Black Power!
I stopped hiding from my roots; the sun is not my enemy. I no longer veil from its rays because the fear of getting "blacker." Look at that skin; love its rich deep melanin. Follow my movement; I'm no longer hiding from my roots.
My black skin will prove this
The other night I went out with a couple of new friends,
to be more precise they were homemade Alantians.
Born and raised in Atlanta!
It was a nice warm night, and at the end of it they wanted to take some pics to post up on their instagrams. But guys wait; let’s get into the light, I don’t want to appear all dark next to you light brights. You are all mixed which makes you effortlessly good lookin'
snap
Ugh I hate it I'm to black, don’t post that.
I stopped hiding from my roots, I rock my tightly coiled natural strands.
I'm not ashamed of who I am, Look at my skin and its deep rich melanin
Walking with my fist raised up in the air to represent what I on a daily contradict.
Black Power!
Forgive me, I'm new to this. When I was growing up the things that embodied our black nation was never accepted.
Black power! I'm ready to follow this radical movement.
May 8, 2014
May 8, 2014 at 10:27 AM UTC
are you generally happy?
a semi-innocuous query
now actualized as a two sided bladed poker,
hot stabbing me smack dab in
the chests hollow crown bullseye,
continuously, as in all life long, and eternal longing for a
“yes”
it fits inside a pubescent aged wound that
refreshes with every breath;
a life long struggle for an accurate definition,
be a general of genuine happy,
that alone would deliver, bringing on bright day satisfaction
as a human, one operates on parallel continuums;
slide slipping on well oiled poles that over the years,
their lengths, increasing with add-on extender poles
formed by
twisty turny slips and falls of sundered hearts and sad loves,
marriages nicknamed Titanic, children found and lost,
complications responsibilities that are denied meeting the words
“The End”
a life that many would envy, questioning what’s wrong
with you dude, are you blinded to the riches yours,
reality is
shoulders permanently bent, a spine that’s held together by
spit and solder and curved by wearying wearing longing for
a straightness that is also called crooked unobtainable
and a piece of a peace that comes and goes
like a highway billboard that you pass too fast to be fully read
the body is corroding and worser yet to come and that’s a hand
you selected - luck of the self-selecting-drawing -
the opioids of the mind offers are rejected
the clarity of painful self exploration valued overall -
the place where the poems come from,
and go to die,
a landscape of a scene repeatedly visualized
but never been and never left,
the crazy contradictions come in two flavors;
vanilla smiles and chocolate weeping of tears that have
etched pathways cheek-chiseled
the city is a struggling strife for most,
the next red line on the side
of the measuring cup and
everyone has a cell, a credit card,
and a measuring cup
<•>
here I stop can’t finish
someone missing alerts me
to their real worlds troubles
making my complaints super superficial but
the silent running of the stilleto
cuts shallow
repeated hourly
the cut color,
pitch black
May 26, 2018
May 26, 2018 at 2:05 PM UTC
You, you and you
Why do you seem blue?
Must I say you’re amazing
Now trust me, I’m not the only one that is praising
You have already beaten the odds
You are alive not from the gods
But you and your strong persistent ancestry
You and them have this unique chemistry
So powerful, that you are alive during the present
Which has so much more value than every cent
Your will makes you capable
Which brings you to a fate that is inescapable
A fate that leads you to greatness
Built from a foundation of moral straightness
Dec 12, 2015
Dec 12, 2015 at 12:17 PM 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
To the boy in my German class who critizised me for picking a male name instead of a female one.
I wonder how your head will ****
When you see your best friend Joey
Become Johanna
I wonder how your jaw will drop
When you see your son
Beg to be bought a dress
I wonder how your ears will suffer
When your daughter
Shows up at your home with her girlfriend
I wonder if you will care
You called me crazy
My name is Dirk
My name is Gender Roles
If you are born a female
I come with
Flowers
I come with
Barbies and pink accessories
I come with pink kitchen sets
and doll hair brushes and fake makeup
I come with pink
I come with pink
I come with pink
I come with pink
I come in fusha
I come in burgandy
I come in lilac
I come in white
For the added package
I come with liposuction
and days without food
I come with too tight clothes
and more labels than you can count
I come with kitchen jokes
I come with being judged if you
had ***
or
Haven't
But wait there's more
If you are male
I come with toy trucks
And remote controls
I come with not crying
I come with blue *****
And Sunday football games
And rough housing and be a man
Be a man
Be a man
Be a man
Be a man
I come in Testosterone black
I come in beaten up blue
I come in Grades don't matter green
I come in what're you looking at white
For the added package
I come with teasing
Required gym time
Peer preasure
Don't cry
I come with straightness
And close minded friends
I come with video games
I come with make the money
Pay for dinner
Pay for movies
Pay for living
Pay for squirming
I come with physical torture
Critizised
For having ***
or
Not having ***
My name is Gender roles and I come in a school room
My name is Izzie and I'm alive
My name is Christy and I'm crying
My name is Dirk and I am satisfied
My name is Gender roles
Sep 19, 2012
Sep 19, 2012 at 7:52 PM UTC
She wanted to travel
Unravel the world
Like famous explorers
Who's wandering was all the will to ask
If there was anything beyond the horizon
That they could see.
Now shes everywhere -
Frozen stare, pigtails and grey red uniform,
Tie needling south with the straightness of a compass
And shes lost.
Where is she?
Everywhere anyone turns
Trapped in the undergrowth
Where cans and cat **** go to pasture
Her wrinkled smile
Is caked onto the branches
Paper machet - ed and as brittle
As an old map.
She breaks apart like bread crumbs
That will never lead her home.
Have you seen her?
Not tumble weeding her news
Across the m2
Or pinned to a lamppost
Weeping her ink into the missing
like a watercolour.
Have you spied her?
Not tied with weak ribbon
to brown stalks who's little
Notes speak of hope
And other things, like Angel's and innocence,
The innocence shes frozen in.
Can you find her?
Not hopefully
Flying her flag of the forgotten
On the tv
Budget crew
Remaking her last seen
With shaking cameras
And discount queens of the smaller screen
Hoping for Hollywood.
Is there a tangible
Left to her name
Thrown as it has been across
State lines, and small places
That only the locals know.
She has Columbus - ed the globe
And she only left home
Walked down her drive
And disappeared.
May 20, 2021
May 20, 2021 at 5:39 AM UTC
I align myself with the notion I have it figured out .
But surreptitiously imagine traveling to the ends of the earth, until my mind is plastered with its beauty .
"But that's not a job " they say , "you can do that when you have money ."
It all comes down to the money , pieces of refined wood and words .
I have to get this morphised tree things to actually see those trees .
For how long ........
4 years
maybe 5 .........
15 ?
It displeases me, that maybe living through my worst fears could lead me to those trees .
Being confined into a little room and typing away on a ancient computer .
The smell of expired coffee and over polished leather shoes settling on my nose .
"But what if I want to be creative then ?"
"Surely you can't mean being an artist " they scold
"No.....maybe architecture or graphics design ."
They nod , "yes those seem to get you the money then ."
But architecture means making buildings.
I can't , that would require me to reprogram my hand to stop the doodles of swirly lines and unfinished thoughts .
And to draw lines of accurate straightness and concrete ideas .
Maybe I just don't want to grow up .
Yet I'm told I seem mature , held together .( the irony )
But that's because the system wants someone docile .
I just don't want to be observed,
so I squish myself into normal. Just to be grey in the sea of discolored faces .
I don't want to be picked out and ridiculed for my indecisiveness .
But that will change when I have passed their tests . To move out of their schools .
Get the piercings I wanted and feel alive when I plunge into death contained situations
But I'm not sure though . I think about the future .
Repeating thoughts to people of what I want to do .
And each time I become less and less sure .
And more and more certain I will be made grayer , more uncertain . Then be the fraternal twin of black , white and have a bright light, coaxing me into the future .
Aug 21, 2014
Aug 21, 2014 at 2:35 AM UTC
Blonde hair hangs heavy
Soft to the touch and coated with oil
Barely touches the shoulder
As it curls outward
He wishes it was longer
Clad in black band t-shirts
Skinny jeans that were outgrown years ago
Sneakers accumulated grunge
His feet prefer to be bare
As well as his legs
Straightness defines his body
No curves
No waves
He yearns for the softness of shape
The feeling of roundness
And a pair of hips
Beneath his fingers
Polish to adorn his nails
And studs through his ears
Among other things
His blue eyes cry sad memories
They speak words no one else knows
This is not my body and never will be
Until I reclaim my stolen femininity
She strips off her mask
Her false identity
Spins around
Blonde curls cascade down her back
A shimmery black dress swirls
Making waves
Along with a pair of silver stilettos
Leaving a legacy wherever she walks
Black lace gloves guide the way
Acrylic nails
And smoky eyes
That tell stories without words
Paint me female
She says standing tall and proud
Your words can’t hurt me
They never have
And never will
I am stronger than I ever was before
If you try to break me one more time
I will kick you with my stilettos
And whack you with my purse
Jan 24, 2014
Jan 24, 2014 at 4:24 PM UTC
Overhearing the torrents of spring
All she said she needed was a ring
Pouring out over the dam walls
All night she said we would learn to fall
But instead of the rose petals lit aflame
We came to our senses all the same
Where the train smoke pours from its engines
Passengers sip on their coffee and eat their crackers
Yesterday there was nothing that was repeated
But today feels much like the one yesterday
Each note of the violin passes into the wind
And the molasses slow in sin away from kin
Expecting that the money would come in
And we would be happy but well
That means that what we need is not what we want
And these definitions of nutrition make my mind go lame
Telling me that your straightness
Was just a game and that you could always go on your way
And since I know you and you think you know me
And you believe you can go on living
As if what you have you can just go off and give for free
But the streets aren't that forgiving
And the hobos near you sure aren't thinking of reading
Recollection was never your strongest suit
And the demons and angels and elf boots
You left them by my door
They weren't made for me
For I was made for something more
I must have written down the wrong note
Or you have walked through the one story book
Because what you are giving me isn't right
Something I never wanted to live in
Like a man taken in chess now without a rook
The bubbling has turned blood red
And what was never said
Churns underneath us now
Like high Vesuvias rocky ashen and grey
Feb 14, 2012
Feb 14, 2012 at 3:46 AM UTC
"This is me" is what you say
and what was white has now gone grey
and what was black seems faded away
and some line I can't measure has somehow been crossed
but you don't understand; you've changed
though for you it's always been this way
for me there's muddied confused pain
which falls upon my life like rain
and seeps into the day to day
til no longer can I see the way
out
the light
at the end of the tunnel
is a stretch to find in this maze
go left or right or middle way
the straightness seems to have gone astray
the clarity gone, the bills unpaid
the work undone, the mind in disarray
your life has moulded, set like clay
mine is the mess you throw away
"This is me" is what you say
but did you ever
stop
and ask
"are
you
ok
too?"
Oct 28, 2012
Oct 28, 2012 at 8:25 PM UTC
We need to measure the diametrics
Of your ****** and body structure
The radius of your smile
The appearance of your eyes
The height of your forehead
The size of your nose
The straightness of your shoulders
The firmness of each breast
The contours of your stomach
The circumference of your waist
The curvature of your ****
Your thigh gap
Hip width
Knee symmetry
Leg taper
Hair growth
Navel shape
****** color
***** length
...
So we can
Make you
"Perfect"
Dec 28, 2019
Dec 28, 2019 at 9:48 AM UTC
spending time figuring out the stress lines of your face
the dimples in your eyes and the straightness of your teeth
finding a way to touch you in the right way
spending time moving my arms in every embrace
to find the one that fits perfectly
like the way you fit on my mouth
Sep 20, 2012
Sep 20, 2012 at 1:03 AM UTC
this is
where two points collide/
where a body meets a soul/
where that gold tint in the skyline
is a reminder of how a past lover’s hair
appeared in the sunlight.
this is the place where the sky falls;
sun, moon, stars, and clouds
hit the ground. they crash
and they burn.
the ocean spills out so many gentle words.
but like love tokens in the night time
they mean nothing when
what is done
is done.
we are what we are.
scarred and unmade.
messy and undone.
what is holy?
is it the way you hold your lips,
or the straightness of your spine?
the glistening of skin in the moonlight
or the kiss of sweat on your forehead?
or is that just human?
when did i ever
stop being able to tell
the true difference?
in this place where
our points collide
and our stars align
something
slants in our sky
and it falls/flies/forces itself
upon the horizon
inside our rear view
is something we’ll forget
leave the past behind
and the stars,
they shall follow.
Mar 15, 2018
Mar 15, 2018 at 11:46 AM UTC
Today.
Today long stripes of sunlight
split by tree-trunks
lie dappling a meadow where
hills fold down into
patches of sunken creases.
A shaky bridge strides banks
of transparent
water while horizon clenches
tight to itself rows of
cropped-naked poplar trees.
A decorative oak sheds nearly
black-shadow necklace
of rings over dewy landscape
scattering diamanté
glitter curving thru straightness.
A front of pale light floods sky
with azure blue and
falls on cows lined alongside
nearly dried hedgerows
munching cud's first fragrance.
A kingfisher strikes quick end
to a fly in flurry of
colour and puckers of current
cover his exit
with stippled chinkles of music.
Today marches on with astute
unawareness while
I clumsily note-taking notice
oozing from wild
nature its fine-textured beauty.
Jun 23, 2016
Jun 23, 2016 at 6:26 AM UTC
6:30 am
time to hit fifty
before I hit the door
Wash away yesterday’s grind
Hoping today has more sunshine
Thrown on clothes darker than my mind
Hit the App that controls my income
Unemployment still ain’t come
So I move somebody’s lunch like a ransom
Even Ranch and Dim Sum
Cause bills ain’t immune
Morning, night and afternoon
Even when my life has gone National Lampoon
By 1:00 pm 45 miles til empty
Stretching the gas past E
I don’t need Jesus grabbing the wheel unless he putting ten on pump three
Turn the clock back before 3/16
Back before covid19
was the fiend
That has me addicted to this gig economy scene
6:00 pm refill
before the dinner rush
Helping Susie make the home like Im the one who cut off the crust
Disgust with my lack of opportunity piled higher
So I’m burning more woods than California wildfires
Since I’m constantly on the wire
Applying To be more despite the Ravens
Moving in Closer directed by Wes Craven
Scary combination for a brother just trying to get out with his family
11:00 pm taxi as a luxury to another essential needed for my daughter
Whose father fights his introductory
Instinct to be extinct maybe it’s depression,
“What do You think?”
I ask the Waffle House waitress
Whose facelifts to expel “ the bill
$19.86,” with straightness
No hiatus dropdown 30
With the hurry hoping for a better season
For us both Like curry
Too many Wiseman on my team
so my future is blurry
So the star I seek I see only week to week
How unfortunate but no time for grieve
It’s 4:00 am only two hours to relieve
Swiftly I snore, snooze the alarm button
The real horrorcore
May 20, 2024
May 20, 2024 at 8:27 PM UTC