Waiting For The Rain by Heather Dube

Image - jwproductions.photoshelter.com

The fire ball
Blazing in the sky
Her rays piercing
Through my sun dyed skin
Calling the salty streams
To race down my body
Evaporating into dry air.

My feet fully clad
In bronze dust
Like madam's stockings.
My toes biting
Into the familiar path
That led to the water well.

A bucket strategically placed
On my head
I remember very well,
It's all vivid in my memory
Playing back
like the motion picture
At Master's house
On the canvas wall.

You were seated
On that rock.
Starring at me
Like a dish ready to be devoured.
My belly was in knots,
My eyes scattered all over,
I lost my footing,
The bucket fell
Spilling all its contents.

Now that I remember
You left me empty
Like that bucket.
All my love for you
Spilling out
To be swallowed by sand
And evaporate into dry air.
Do you remember?
The first time
You set your eyes on me,
I thought
They would never leave my face
But they left.

Ever since you evaporated
With my love
I've been waiting
For it to rain on me again.

Cherished Tears by Raylton Nhau

Image - elev8.com

I let the tears flow 

Certainly I don’t bother to wipe them off

Cause it’s not them that bother me

Rather the memories that brought about the tears

I cherish every tear as it reminds me of those days

Takes me back to those moments,         

As I count the times I have shared

I count not the emotions but

Each tear I won’t wipe away on my cheek

Maybe I will forget you or how we meet

But the tears I will forever cherish more

That mirror I stand in front of

Not to see myself in it

Rather to see each tear as it flows swiftly

Hoping I can share those moments once again

Or maybe see a reflection of what we shared

I won’t raise my head high

Rather I bow it down with no regret

As I let every tear drop gently

Hoping they would gather

If not on the surface maybe beneath it

I would rather let them flow slowly

Than to hold them back and let the emotions hold me ransom

I would rather not wipe them off

But I will cherish every moment, feeling, emotion

I won’t taste the tears because I know they are bitter

Rather I will cherish them because the memories are sweet

The same honor I had when I let you go

It still is that honor that let them flow

Each tear being a reflection down the memory lane

Each tear being deeply rooted in that lane

For I used to treasure the moments, feelings, emotions

But it’s the tears I cherish more

Cause every tear is a lost treasure

For I once was rich in memories

Rather I choose to be poor

I lay my head on the pillow

To allow the tears to stream down

And hope that they stain

If its unclean then I choose to be dirty

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