Monthly Archives: January 2013

Black Woman

Her Glory in locks of pallid mud

Chains and a burden.

Chains and a burden.


Skin reflective of the blood of the nations

dark and rancid.

Forever blue

But only a hue.


Useless mounds of flesh

Surely, this creature should be put to rest.


Oh her chest

Wasted fertility.

Deprivation and misuse.

The Women had suffered at the hands of the habitual Jim Crows, cried out in intimacy.

They were recognised.


Back hunched and broken

“Was this the taste of iniquity,

that brought this upon me?”


Her receptors have no use.

She is not among the creators.


Dark talons take their place

The attainment of beauty is futile


My death grey and drowning blue

Crown her.


She is the Queen of Black

Made from the Earth.

Just beneath you.


As I sit here faded

It makes no difference.


Ash or smoke.

Humans or spirits.


All amalgamate into one


My soul clearly seeking for destruction

But my God will not allow it


Adonai comes like a thief in the night and saves me

A different sort of thief.


I wonder if Robin Hood was actually put death

Heaven is always an alternative.


It never changes.

Look all around and see

It never changes.


No matter the length of man

We always remain pissed.

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Birth Canal

As Time goes on

Tick Tock Tick Tock

The chains rattle.

A reminder.


Of things to come and things to be taken away.


Nostalgia for The Homeland.

The Motherland.


Up on that holy mountain with all the cries of the heavy and light laden ones

In joint harmony.


Rusting chains, mahogany skin.


Welcome Chameleon.


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My Garden

Marsh land.
Grey, green and brown.
The colour of poverty, neglect and bad feeding.

Yellow Jessamines are watered by the River of Life
Their petals become tinted with a glassy veneer

Every creature ever born on this earth wanders this land.

The pale green dewy river emits heat,
as if to allow praise to rise to the Heavens

If only.

Cave encompassing a swamp

Poison ivy and brittle roses.
Beautiful beds of lavender.

You will believe the swamp never existed.

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Black Widow

It crawls up my shoulder
Into my ear
Still enough for me to see it
Feel it
Think it.

All life outside and around it is grey.

Nothing of the physical could penetrate this creature.

It finds the many webs that keep this forest together
Upright and sturdy.

It’s gnarly old bark weary and tired from past onslaughts.

This mist of this forest holds heavy.

She has found males.

Now watch her regurgitate and digest him.

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