Dreads
It's not a statement of defiance,
I wear my hair in dreads.
It's who I am...
And I'm proud to show them.
Naturally...
On my head!
I use to keep my hair short and faded...
Conservative in conformity!
To fit into a 'conscious' acceptance...
An unspoken, visual uniformity.
Believing to appear like everyone else...
Would bestow upon me,
A certain respected sense of self.
Having no clue it was 'me' I pursued!
It took me a while to realize,
From myself I ran and fled!
Then when I 'woke' up clear with understanding...
I still had concealed a truthfulness not revealed.
My hair is 'nappy'!
And when not cut,
It dreads!
Curling into 'naps'.
And feeling comfortable on my head.
How sweet the awakening...
To a wholesomeness fed!
Not to dred but to wear in pride.
It's not a statement of defiance,
I wear my hair in dreads.
It's who I am...
And I'm proud to show them.
Naturally...
On my head!
Dreadlocked.
And now that I feel,
My best of self can be expressed...
I see so many who are trapped in masquerades.
Doing their best to project...
What they feel someone else,
Will accept without protest!
And I am so happy I can live my life...
With a peace of mind I find at rest!
Knowing a simple thing like 'dreads'...
Exposes a complete identity I keep.
And makes me feel at my very best yet!
Instead.
Forgetting the 'me' who I thought I knew...
And having not one regret!
Not within my heart I thread.
Note:
Dedicated to those dreadlock wearers
who feel the gloriousness of being who they are!
And a deep kindred with 'Jah' The Supreme!
A strengthening of 'spirit' develops when one
becomes...'dread-headed'!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
What Other Place Is More Mixed Up
Black is the color of my skin.
Well...
Not really 'black' black.
But kinda mocha.
You see,
My mother had been referred to as 'high yella'
And my father dark complected.
My sisters and I have this brownish tone.
My hair?
Nappy.
Well...
Not 'nappy' in the conventional sense.
You see,
I have dreads.
They look like braids.
But they are not.
My race?
Gee,
Let's see.
I remember when I was a 'kid'
I was then a Negro.
Then there was that dreaded 'N' word.
Then I became Black.
And 'proud' of course.
To be mistaken as an American Indian,
West Indian, Puerto Rican, Mexican...
And even Italian!
YES.
Because of my last name.
Well...what 'is' you?
Then I had an uncle,
Who thought he had to correct all of our dictions.
'Speak clearly! Enunciate.'
I would hate to visit my cousins.
'Is your father at home?
I hope not! '
Then there was a period when I was told,
'You think you white?
Trying to talk proper! '
Today?
I think more about getting my bills paid.
Or the ones I do pay.
I can not concern myself with race.
There are white folks wearing their hair in dreads.
Hair 'nappier' than mine!
Close your eyes and listen to today's music.
Is that Eminem? Justin Timberlake? Robin Thicke?
They sound better than some blacks that do it!
Madonna ain't no Beyoncé.
But neither is Patti a Gladys Knight or Chaka
Or Sarah Vaughn.
And that list can go on and on.
And Frank? Sinatra! Elvis, the Pelvis!
You know what?
With all this talk about color and race...
What other place is more mixed up than America?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Invisible
Invisible
By: Jean Pullman
Why don’t you look at me
What will it take for you notice me
I try to be myself to you I am real
I tell you how I feel
But still.
CHORUS
You won’t look my way
I die slowly every day
You don’t notice my hair
You don’t like what I wear
It’s as if I am invisible
Because you just don’t see my visual.
I start to wonder why
I think I might even cry
Because you can’t see
That you’re perfect for me
You’re not meant for her
But to you I’m just a blur.
CHORUS
You never look my way
You don’t hear what I say
You never notice my hair
You never see what I wear
It’s as if I’m invisible
Because you just don’t see my visual.
Now I am almost dead
My heart is filled with dread
You still haven’t looked my way
My life slowly slips away
Because of you now I’m gone.
poem by Jean Pullman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Baldly Stated
I use to wear it centre parted.
But now alas it has departed
When I was young I had thick hair
but now my head’s completely bare.
I wear a hat against the sun
a sunburnt scalp is not much fun.
The only plus that I can see
I need not pay a barbers fee
nor spend my money on shampoo
As hirsute men are forced to do.
A sign of masculinity
they say though I would rather be
Possessor of a well thatched head
than one from which all hair has fled.
1-Jun-08
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Boston
Where the ferries come to shore
She never really knew how good it would feel
To finally find herself in a place so warm and real
She wears a Red Sox cap
To hide her baby dreads
The girl she was in New England
Is different now and dead
In all the local bars
She flirts and tells the boys while they're talkin'
She's from Boston
She comes from Boston
Talks to her family now and then
Through e-mails and postcards
She tries to explain to them
That education and occupation will have to wait for now
She loves the Rasta, reggae rhythms, her dreams have changed somehow
She wears a Red Sox cap
To hide her baby dreads
The girl she was in New England
Is different now and dead
In all the local bars
She flirts and tells the boys while they're talkin'
She's from Boston
Her toes dig deep and deeper in the sand
She's seduced by the sunsets and her new life at hand
She wears a Red Sox cap
To hide her baby dreads
The girl she was in New England
Is different now and dead
In all the local bars
She flirts and tells the boys while they're talkin'
She's from Boston
She wears a Red Sox cap
To hide her baby dreads
From Boston
song performed by by Kenny Chesney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Wrinkles and Grey Hair (Children)
Mommy's getting wrinkles.
Daddy has grey hair.
It wasn't very long ago
when those things weren't there.
Wish I could smooth the wrinkles out
and darken Daddy's hair
to stop the changes going on.
It makes me feel so scared.
Grampa, does it mean they'll die?
They have wrinkles and grey hair!
I never used to worry
before those things were there.
Grampa said to look at him.
There were lots of wrinkles there,
and on his head, a snowstorm
was the color of his hair.
'Wrinkles only come to point
where smiles were, here and there.
It's your mommy's turn to get some
for the happy times you've shared.'
His white, and Daddy's grey hair
well, it was there to show
who had lived the longest time
so everyone could know!
Grampa said it's part of life.
We love, we learn, we live.
We earn grey hair and wrinkles,
they're prizes only God can give.
Plea of Love
I never knew that men with really short hair are considered as crazy. The biggest relief for me now is that I never need to style my hair anymore. It saves me so much money now as I do not require purchasing hair styling cream anymore. I feel good, to be honest. The only regret I have is that I do not have any girl in my life, which is truly willing to love me. If I ever find a girl who will hold me tightly and kiss me unendingly, then I will feel like I am the happiest person on this earth. Just trust me and listen to my plea of love.
poem by Rohit Sapra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
As I insist
Certain things I insist not to do
This can be equally true
It is not matter of pride
Still I profess and not hide
It is way of living
It is not to make you believing
Only the thing is it may not favor with me
As friend you have all the rights to feel free
We are proud to be human
It can be with man or woman
We live with ideals
It is simple deal
It may be real
There is nothing to conceal
Wounds may not heal
You should naturally feel
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I Gave One Peanut to many To the Elephant
Graceful slinky ever kinky trunk of yours
once picked me up
down flew.
Racing blood foot to head upside down
peanuts run from me to
you now chew.
Enter from the back afront my trunk stays
true to musky scent
of you.
Allowing humor curling lips a smile from
eats that wayward treat hidden
in some soiled pant's
you wear
Telling ears with some hair bracelet circled
wear no nair funky chicken
sprayed in hair
for you.
poem by Is It Poetry
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Fear
Means you
are a slave
to thoughts,
of future dreads.
An apprehension,
a trepidation,
a feeling of dread,
a sword above your head.
No reason to fear,
do not tell your fortune,
the future is not here,
please do not to fear,
try not to be a seer.
But crimes are everyday,
tomorrow I could be
robbed, hijacked, raped,
of this I’m frightened.
It’s only thoughts,
that make you dread.
So leave the future,
you do not live there,
and you never will.
Life is now
So live right now,
and deal with
future moments,
as they come.
No need to agonize,
you’ll find you enjoy
a gift of peace
when you learn
to only live
in present time.
19-11-2008
poem by Bob Blackwell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A ribbon in my head
i penned you in the head,
like a rainbow
in my hair
glittering, as any body
can see
i
pushed for while, when
iam in my
way
you give me a laugh,
that enjoy
everybody
the ribbon in my head,
always make me
happy
every time, i feel
lonely, you look at
me
now, that i have you in
my beautiful
head as you can
see,
my life gives me
the beauty
that anybody can
be likes
me
' this poem is dedicated to all daughters of today '
poem by Antonio Liao
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Going Grey
I woke up late this morning
And looked into the mirror
But the woman looking back at me
Had a grey streak in her hair
Where did this grey streak come from?
It wasn’t there last night
How did it get into my hair?
My god I looked a sight
I washed and I washed my hair 3 times
And washed my hair some more
But the grey it would not come out
And I was getting stressed for sure
I grabbed the phone to ring my friend
And said get your arse round here
I have a big problem that you need to fix
And bring all your hairdressing gear
Half an hour seemed like a life time
Before my friend was here
She said what’s all the fuss about
I sobbed and wept oh dear
I removed the towel from round my head
Well I didn’t want anyone to see
Look I’ve got greyness in my hair
And I’m only thirty three
She sat me down to have a look
And said don’t worry dear
We can soon cover all that up
With hair dye, so don’t fear
She put this dye upon my head
And then made me a brew
He had to wait for ages
Until the colour did come threw
So now I feel much better
And don’t need to get irate
I don’t have any grey streaks now
And my hair looks really great
poem by Lynn Cowman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Native Born
I love it when I am approached by someone,
Who is totally oblivious to my attachment...
To my ethnicity that is affliated with my appearance.
I want to be identified as a Blackman of pride.
And dignity.
There are many who are of African ancestry,
Who are still in debate about that.
I've never been puzzled about the issue.
So whenever I am approached and questioned,
How does it feel to be a Black man living...
With feelings that are isolated?
I have to ensure I respond to that...
With a confirmation someone with a consciousness,
Has indeed asked me that question.
Since it should be obvious,
I have a head full of hair dreadlocked for a reason.
And one of them is not to keep what I feel hidden.
I have already been a 'Negro'.
I am an American.
Native born.
Like my daddy and my momma...
And their daddies and mommas before them.
And...
I am extremely proud of my Indian heritage as well.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Effects of Racism
I was once invited to participate,
In a seminar.
To discuss the effects of racism,
Conducted many miles away in an isolated
Remote area
Distanced from where the effects took place.
Near my home.
And I was to be the only Black to appear,
On this prestigious panel.
I declined the offer.
Since I felt it was ridiculous,
To remove myself away from those 'effects'
While in discussion with others,
Who kept perpetuated the acceptance
Of expressed indifferences.
Plus I had attended another affair,
At the same location...
As others listened intently,
While I explained reasons for wearing my hair
In dreads!
And if it had an affect on my identity.
I was then asked to come again,
Next time I was in the area.
As if these 'settings' would be missed,
In my life!
And those who 'sympathized' with my plight,
Would embrace my need to receive their acceptance.
With an understanding of my internal turmoil.
Which, of course, had to depress,
My sensibilities.
Yes!
Only an eyewitness experiencing this,
Would appreciate the sacrifices I make.
Living amongst those who have not been so 'chosen'
To escape from their deprived and substandard conditions.
Inflicted upon them by those less liberal of deed.
I feel so blessed to be honored,
By those 'willing' to share their comfort zones!
However...
There is something about my own environment,
That affords me the freedom to express less pretentiousness.
Although I must say this,
Being a 'victim' of those who are racists...
Has, at times, been to my benefit.
At least I know where they are coming from.
And I have been given opportunities to avoid them!
With a choice to leave them and their preceptions,
'Impressed' upon their limited consciousness.
And I,
Could leave them alone to glorify their intentions.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
To Me
Let me start off by saying
To me I think that you are sexy
To me I feel that you are gifted
Just out right talented
Now don't think that I am in love
I simply place you above
Others that I have come across
Once they are gone
I develop memory loss
To me you have sexy lips
They deserve a kiss
So here's one muuuuah
You have my attention
Let me also mention
To me you are so unique
Not because you put on but because
You are who you are real
Now don't let this go to your head
With your sexy dreads
I just felt like being sweet
Letting you know what you mean to me
poem by Tameeka Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The monk with long pretty hair
I love this life,
Sworn to serve the poor,
My body honed to perfection,
With the life style,
The material skill,
The difficult chores,
And the blessing our the lord Buddha,
I will always honor him,
For he gave me the greatest gift of all,
My long pretty hair.
The others start to object,
Claiming my head needs shaving,
There just jealous,
I wear the orange robe,
What more do they want?
I’m always on time,
The best in my class,
I bet that’s why they hate me,
Because who could hate,
My long pretty hair.
Everyday I realise,
My hair is all I care for,
I made my excuses,
I need to be clean,
Because cleanliness is holiness,
Suddenly there’s not enough hours in the day,
I cut the training,
And fall behind on my chores,
To stare at perfection in the mirror,
My long pretty hair.
The Masters are angry at me preaching,
That my hair sets me apart,
As indeed it does,
I see the jealousy in every eye,
They hate me because I'm perfect,
Why should I shave my head?
Am I not the universe’s chosen?
Above all the others,
So what if I’m the better with,
My long pretty hair.
I’m banished from my home,
But that’s ok,
They left me a mirror,
Which I stare into all day,
I found my true love,
Better than my old life,
Helping and healing and fighting,
I rebel against my order,
Despite all I lose I still have,
My long pretty hair.
On the execution block I stand,
In all my glory,
They took my mirror away,
And dared to touch my hair,
Who can blame me for hurting them?
They deserved it,
And now I stand,
Proud and tall,
With my hair flowing free,
Caressed by the breeze
My long pretty hair.
And I now hang by the gate,
By my long pretty hair,
Final glory for everyone to see.
My long pretty hair.
poem by David Whittingham
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Inclusive
I use to think of it as inclusive.
Those with appearances,
Of a similar and familiar physicalness...
Immedicately identifying,
One's own ethnicness!
And everyone I knew,
I thought...
Chose to be inclusive too.
Until I was told...
I have a wide nose,
Hair that napped.
And I spoke with an obvious,
Ethnic dialect!
And...
I thought 'How strange.
How ridiculous it is!
To have someone wearing a flowing wig.
A nose wider than mine...
And 'blue' contacts.
With painted fingernails paid,
Before feeding unfed kids.'
And...
The men wore suits and ties.
Appearing much 'affected' too!
Inclusively denying a heritage...
Until they felt they had to,
Fess up to that too!
'Did you see him,
Wearing his hair in those awful dreads.
Trying to get specific attention.
To prove a pride connected to an African descent.
When 'we' represent...
A progressive intelligence!
I am so glad his appearance near us was brief! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
At Last My Life Begins
As you matured and fell in love,
This was going to be for life,
You knew that when you met him,
One day you'd be his wife.
You both had really good times,
Three kids and a beautiful house,
Your life was really rosy,
You never realised he was a louse.
When you met and fell in love,
The charm he had mastered,
Little did you realise,
He was a dirty cheating dastard.
Now he's gone and left you,
You think to yourself, why me,
Banish those thoughts and look ahead,
Then very soon you'll see.
It's not just you it's his family,
All his friends as well,
He's showed he never gave a damn,
Now let him rot in Hell.
Throughout all this you're innocent,
Remember you stayed true,
This will give you comfort,
Whenever you feel blue.
Never ever blame yourself,
You always did your best,
When you learn to accept that,
You'll give your mind a rest.
Now that you're away from him,
You can start your life anew,
You'll soon gain your self- respect,
He'll be the one to stew.
We humans have a conscience,
It can give us serious strife,
His will make him suffer,
For the remainder of his life.
Never ever seek revenge,
That gives some sick pleasure,
Time will show and he'll soon know,
He's lost his greatest treasure.
Discard the hatred you feel inside,
Then you'll start to feel elation,
That's when you'll find your inner self,
It's a wonderful sensation.
Banish his memory from your mind,
Although it lasted long,
You can live with conscience clear,
You did nothing wrong,
One thing you must never forget,
He's a filthy lying cheat,
So get out there, enjoy yourself,
Show the world you can't be beat.
You must stay strong and resolute,
Stay true to what you've done,
When you see your life improve,
You'll know you've finally won.
When your kids have grown up,
You can shout out loud,
I kept my values through all this,
For that I'm really proud,
Life is short so make the most,
While you're still here,
Be proud of your achievements,
Your future is now clear.
Then as your life moves on apace,
A message you can send,
Is life goes on regardless,
Your broken heart will mend.
Soon you will be back in life,
You'll show him with a force,
That you'll be even stronger,
When you get that divorce,
You can walk with head held high,
You'll be the one who wins,
New love will come and you will shout,
'' At Last My Life Begins''
Somebody Knows
Out of my head and delighted, somebody knows how I feel
If you ask me to play it, you wont have to say it twice
cause Im goin to the head of the line, Im takin my life away
Im so glad you made it, and now that youre ready
Ill begin to tell you what you want, but I know
(I feel, I feel) somebody knows, (I feel, I feel) somebody knows
(I feel, I feel) somebody knows, (I feel, I feel)
Somebody knows what you want and what youre tryin to do
cause the same thing can happen to you
A little smoke, a little drink, can make somebody start to think
That he knows
(I feel, I feel) somebody knows (I feel, I feel)
Somebody knows what you want, when you want it
(somebody knows) when youre doin it right
Somebody sees with their feelings, and feels what theyre being tonight
And were doin it together, I know
(I feel, I feel) somebody knows, (I feel, I feel) somebody knows
(I feel, I feel) somebody knows, (I feel, I feel) God I know
(I feel, I feel) somebody knows, (I feel) I feel somebody knows
(I feel, I feel) somebody knows, (I feel, I feel)
Got what you want on the run now, keep it on in sight
Make me crazy, and you wont need me to tell you that youre doin it right
cause I know
(I feel, I feel) somebody knows, (I feel) I feel somebody knows
(I feel, I feel) somebody knows (I feel, I feel)
song performed by by Kenny Loggins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Want More Hair?
I'd love
I think
more hair
more hair
like a big
old grizzly bear
more hair makes
you manly
more hair
makes you tough
more hair feels
like carpet
more hair keeps
you rough
more hair
for pretty ladies
to rub their faces on
more hair for
guys to jealous of
and more locks that can
be flung
I think more hair would be awesome
but I wouldn't wanna overdo it
because too much hair would make
me like a little furry blanket
and I couldn't cover both of us
just you and that ain't fair
more hair!
poem by John W. McEwers
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Eternal Love I'll never know
Your body lays in the coffin stiff as a board. I only knew you for a glimmer of time.
I heard you passed away the other day, my heart sank, like the day you left me.
Before you were gone from my life, now you are gone from this world.
I sit here and wonder where your spirit is floating now. I hope it will be pleasant and in a place I would recognize. A place where I could maybe wander and find you someday.
Your beautiful white face, that use to be caressed by the love of our Sun, is expressionless.
Just like the day you crushed my hopes and dreams of being with you.
Sometimes I feel like I've let those days go, and some days I don't feel alone.
Today I'm with someone new, years have passed us by, but I feel dead to her and life on the inside.
Maybe it's in my mind, so determined to be with you, the only one I let myself love.
Or maybe it's just a simple fear and I don't have enough courage to just let go.
This bond I feel for you is beautiful yet so sadistic. It has controlled me ever since that day, and I'm not sure how to help myself. Everything I look at now lacks color and is seen in black and white.
The angels are flying over my head, I'm lying here thinking of you in bed.
Your dark brown hair is spread through my finger tips, I can feel every crevice in your lips as I lean in to mend them with mine.
And now your dead...I don't know where you have gone, but search for me okay? Like I have searched for you. I'll know when you return, I'll know when you are there. If I could breathe the breath of life back into your lungs, I would. If I could give life back to what we had I would try. Because is those short moments, I've felt more alive then all these twenty five years.
You'll never find someone like me again, not ever. I know everyone says that when they are left standing in the dust, but this time it is true. I never had a human choice, but as if a puppet master above my head pulled a string, and my heart loved you.
But be still now my love, be at peace and rest because I have done all the wandering and anguish for the both of us for so long. I look forward to the day I see you, and my heart skips a beat one more time.
Because in that moment I'm jolted back to life, and I know everything is going to be fine.
And in that instant it's gone, it hurts me to feel eternal love I'll never know.
poem by Midnight Writer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!