Nappy Hair


Doesn’t matter how rich
or poor she is,
‘creamy crack’ is the antidote
to her nappy hair.
Can she go back? It’s difficult.

For if her hair is knotty
she ain’t happy –
so groomed
by sodium hydroxide
white people relax around her.

The burn of a perm
though excruciatingly hot,
her fiery scalp is worth it
as later she gently caresses roots
with ecstatic fingers.

In addition there’s an erroneous
friend in town,
from wig –
to an extension of reality –
100% protein filament

stitched/glued onto cornrow tracks –
weaveologists charge big money.
It  can be combed,  curled
and it will not melt.
It’s also been prayed on in Temples.

Tonsure, the cutting of hair
in religious devotion and humility?
The Indian woman’s stolen
in the dead at night –
a rite of passage

to sit upon this black lady’s head
thousands of miles away:
seemingly Godly but
now paraded in high esteem
though evidently not original.

Does anybody like me?



Websites & applications fuel
“internet addiction” a condition
linked to depression
they say.

The way we communicate
rapidly evolves –
an integrated component
of human interaction.

Physicians weighed down,
placed in position
to judge whether this internet
is positive or problematic.

People lacking self esteem
turn to social media,
filling a void, resulting
in increased cyber activity.

The journaling and linear
associations measured in terms
of time spent &
frequency of visits.

Thoughts & actions exposed –
peers elicit senses
as envy propels an array
of distorted beliefs –

That others are happier
& more successful –
the addict trapped
in endless isolation?


15 Ways That Social Media is Killing You @




thinking is an important thing /
or concept best revelled in solitude.

was surprised when the commentator
revealed: by listening to music

one does not think.
or when reading a book

we are never alone but
engaging with the writer’s thoughts.

too, that solitude is different
from loneliness.

In the midst of the metropolis
the commentator said

you can still feel alone /
or garner

solitude amidst the people.

you are never quite solitary –
lonely – but not alone.

Back in the Day


A man happily roamed the forest of Juffureh
Looking for wood to make a djembe.

Dew glistened grass and croaking frogs and
Hungry vultures circled the dead.

How did it get to this?
Naked, chained and shackled

Gasping for air in the darkness.
Madness the English say. Utter madness.


Countless Africans
Set for the seas seeking a strange land.

The dinghys rock, the nights are black –
We hear sharks encircle the dead.


Residing under the sea bed
Slaves who failed the perilous journey

Cannot fathom the screams of drowning migrants:
They are astounded.

Of how a people once ferried across the seas
Force themselves on colonial masters

Risking life and more but are not welcome
Albeit by brutal means.



the spirit animates the living
it constitutes the intangible being,
breathing life into words and
Giving life too.

said to be separate
but the spirit pertains to the incorporeal state
so the soul is spirit though not identical
bounded together and makes the spirit+soul
Dual of the ‘Unsaturated’.


a sequence of events set Earth in space?
magical story that strives apace
seemingly tender and perfect,
absolutely sustained but imperfect.
sacrifice essential in the sequel
all evil duly down reigned.


unscrupulously invited to eat of knowledge
the offer was eagerly accepted –
rebellious, growing up in liberation discovered
Who swiftly seized the situation? now residing
in a secular destination
beneath in rank and quality –
a descent straight down into folly

but love always salvages
a bad situation –
Earth was saved not destroyed.
Creation for those who navigate
embracing the composers verse
back up to Pleasance.