Poems
Is So
When the noise becomes too loud
she careens like a John Crow scavenging for food
her thoughts explode like bullets and her eyes swim
into the Rio Grande where she is a rock being cooled
by the sweet gentle water
When doubt covers him like scabs
he walks barefoot all round Parade shouting
about the next coming and ascending to
his rightful place of glory and salvation
while his mind tries to drown out the voices of those
who torment and condemn him just for being poor
and uneducated - but he will show them
When they cannot see beyond seeing
and hope is a field of yam infested by termites
when hunger gnaws in their belly
when vexation is curse itself and every door
is sealed shut they wheel and tumble down
wheel and tumble down until they come back
to their rightful selves and take one one coco
fill basket and ask the day when is fi we turn
- Opal Palmer Adisa
Petrichor
July oppressive heat was overbearing
As the Scirocco type winds came whipping
Down into the valley which was rimmed by
Brooding mountains and wilting trees
People went about in a daze
Sapped of energy and entertaining thoughts
Of times spent in Northern states
Dogs begin to dig holes to lie in, goats running
Unerringly to cover and birds flying in high patterns
To escape.
The soil is parched and caked
Grass turns brown and adopts a droop stance
Leaves wilt and surrenders to the relenting heat
But then thunder peals, and the elements are in accord
To intervene in addressing this imbalance in nature
Small water droplets kiss the clops of earth
And the olfactory senses are assailed
Of all the aromatic fragrances in nature
None can emulate the earthy pleasant and distinct smell
That frequently accompanies the first rain after a long period
Of warm, dry weather.
I am sure you have wondered at the noun that could nail
that singular smell,
It is Petrichor, that is the name of an oil that is released from the
Earth into the air before rain begins to fall, and in Grecian lore is the blood of the Gods
It has to be.
- Ainsley Wilson
-
Changing the Rules
I tried to play it with the Big Boys
But the Big Boys kept reminding me
I wasn't enough with my Degree
Maybe I was too fat
Too black, who knows
Maybe I didn't kiss the ground
Or bend my knees
See, they kept changing the rules
One minute they needed thinkers
Next they wanted likeability
Next they wanted ghetto vibes
From teenage girls
With a lot more lip than me
I was an angry feminist if I had an opinion
But too docile if I didn't give one
A robot, follow instructions!
Think/don't think!
Speak/don't speak!
Serving a master
Who's never pleased
Nine months after leaving the Big Boys
I'm alive and a lot more free
Now I'm at home
Changing all the rules on the Big Boys
Who keep on changing all the rules
On me.
- Lisa Gaye Taylor