Tuesday, February 21, 2012

Loco Over My Locks by Jera


Image - freewebs.com

No, I don’t smoke cannabis, don’t get it twisted
Read it again, just in case you missed it
Every man and his dog is obsessed with my twisted follicle
That’s why I wrote this twisted chronicle
I wear these locks in solidarity with my brothers who, in locks and in chains,
Were packed into slave ships, exported for white man’s gain
Exploited on plantations, sun up to sun down
Beaten, chained, raped, gunned down
Centuries later, they were dumped on an island
Island of Jamaica, left to poverty and violence
I twist my follicles in sympathy with my brothers, out on the streets
Vagabond dread heads, rummaging in trash cans for scraps to eat
I do this because the look suits me
I’m making a statement, so go ahead - shoot me
I do this ’cause it’s the natural state of my hair
I do this because I can and, unlike you, I dare
Never, once, did Shaka Zulu’s hair feel a fine tooth comb
And never ever did Nehanda perm out her dome
A Hindu with a turban, to you, causes no harm
And a Scotsman, in a kilt, to you exudes some charm
But me in my locks
Scares you, like a hen next to a fox
Analyse this – dread locks – you dread my locks
Free your mind… for it is chained and locked

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

Wow! wonderful stuff

Catherine Childs Morrison said...

This piece reminds me so much of Maya Angelou. Thank you

Masimba Musodza said...

Those who have locks know all about this!!

Africana Vox Pop said...

Wow, thank you Brethren! This is truth right there:

I do this ’cause it’s the natural state of my hair
I do this because I can and, unlike you, I dare

YEah, keep daring and donning the mane. Big ups Rasta.

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