Quote

“W”

There was a crashing sound, I jumped out of my sleep

With my eyes still half shut I tried to make out what was happening

SHE was in tears on the ground fighting a shadow over her

This dark shadow was moving very fast

Without thinking I ran over –

Wrapped my arms as tight as I could to help HER

But he was stronger than me, than US

He swung me from him his side which landed me in the wall

The lamp on the table was shattered and some broken glass cut me

I sat there BLEEDING as TEARS and BLOOD ran from me

I sat there HELPLESS on the floor looking at HER

HE was enraged with so much ANGER that he didn’t notice me and what he’d done

So SHE ran to ME

Even though she had her fair share of bruises – SHE still RAN to ME

WE RAN TOGETHER ….OUTSIDE to ESCAPE

ESCAPE HIM, not sure what the next step would be but-

WE HAD EACH OTHER and that was ENOUGH

 

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  • For all WOMEN

 

 

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Love Goes Beyond Titles (LGBT)

Don’t label me please because I go beyond your narrow minded definitions

I love just as deeply as you do

I bleed the very colour you do

So I will NOT be labelled.

Don’t label me please because I have just as much rights as you do

I should not be conformed to a box you try to force me in because of your insecurities

I hurt just as much as you do, with a beating heart that can be transplanted in you should you need me one day…

So I will NOT be labelled.

Don’t label me please, because of all the names you call me, I am first and foremost human…

I am ME

Little black bird

Who told this little black bird that she couldn’t sing?

Her lyrics tell tales of a broken heart searching for a home

That to me is a tune we all can relate

So who told this little black bird she couldn’t sing?

Who told this little black bird she couldn’t fly?

Her wings were made to rise like a phoenix

From the ashes of pain, poverty and her past

That to me is a journey we all walk

So who told this little black bird she couldn’t fly?

Who told this little black bird she couldn’t?

This little black bird sings through poetry, she flies in her imagination, a journey with no limits

So who told this little black bird she couldn’t?

Because this little black bird lives.

…………………………………………….for all birds

Collision of Pride

Carved from the same clay

But uniquely fashioned

Not everyone likes to see two of the same things together

But I do

Not many have felt the difference between the two
But I have

So even though it has been designed from the same canvas

It’s a separate work of art

and when they collide…the unison is like magic, music, a gallery of the best designs ever created.

 

For: Pride celebrations

Are you trying to remove Black with wipes?…

Yellow taped; told to sit in a corner, feeling like I don’t belong there

Looking for an escape or maybe a distraction from the memories of Rosa Parks, Martin Luther King, Nelson Mandela, Malcom X, Nanny, Bustamante, Paul Bogle, Sam Sharpe, Norman Manley, Marcus Garvey. George William Gordon.

Thinking of ‘Roots‘ and creating strategic plans of running like Kunta Kinte

It isn’t much same or different in the 21st century is it? along some line of authority I am reminded of  my origins and some where sometimes submissively directed to stay within the lines of my family tree. As if my branches cannot be extended or my seed cannot be re-planted in that ‘upper’ soil? Are you saying my ancestors wasted sleepless nights carrying blue prints of their ambitions whipped in the deep creases of their black velvet skins?

That even now anyone looking like me are given parameters within which they are governed by rules of conduct…might I add your conduct?

Why are offices mirroring plantations? Why are bodies still sold after hours? Why are children still forced to work like adults? Why is the whip now called the belt? Unfair labour governed by contracts? Does this make it right?

Cry me a river will you? perhaps the Mississippi?

———————————–In honour of Jamaica’s Black History month & Upcoming Bob Marley’s birthday

Black Veins …Black story

9 months 8 hours

C section

I am my mother’s daughter 

Stripped of her virtue not by choice but by demand

Ridden upon your request foiled by the very prints of your hand, her black velvet…you bought, it’s finest -richness

Until torn, threaded, discoloured , it never did glare once more, like it glared in her garden when she spoke with nature like sisters.

They would have drinks together in her back yard reaping nothing but laughter, they made laughter-until

you showed up unannounced! uninvited! you took her from her garden to your Eden you serpent!

disguised in language of Shakespeare, speaking ballads unknown to her kind

She never laughed again

In your eyes a commodity another item on your shelf, assimilated into your world, your birth

She forgot her name… But

9 months 8 hours

C section

I am my mother’s daughter 

You want me to forget those long rides you took over her garden

The smiles you took, while you went in and out, she rained tears, her sister rained, while they sat together in …the dark

Her sister lit her journey while she ran, she ran with her sister, raining tears, stripped of her virtue not by choice but by demand, ridden upon your request foiled by the very prints of your hand!

You serpent!

You want to forget!

But ….9 months 8 hours

that C section

I am my mother’s daughter! 

Standing in between what is wrong and right, an image with your scales, your fangs, with your eyes, her black velvet

The kink in my hair

You pretend not to see me

I live as your nightmare

because you know…

9 months 8 hours

that C section

I am my mother’s daughter!