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Poetry 7/7/20

Thanks so much to the people who sent these poems in! Hope it makes ya'll smile. They wanted to stay anonymous. Enjoy x


Angels

I've got these wings on my back,

That lift me up,

Higher than the clouds,

And weigh me down,

All at once.

Everyone can see my wings,

I can't tuck them away,

Can't dye them,

Can't cut them,

'Cus they're a part of me,

Attached by tendons,

And veins and blood,

And the history of angels before.

God made angels in perfect submission,

Humans with free will,

But see I'm a different kind of angel,

I'm perfectly peng,

With the will of all my aunties combined,

Not a one dimensional creature of God,

I'm a creature of the earth,

Of habit,

Of my family,

Traversed continents and waves,

Broke free of chains,

Sang with voices, with trumpets,

With scats and sax,

And beats and spitting rhymes,

Wrote books and lines and empowered,

Nations with voices,

With the voice of an angel.

We're all angels.

Angels of our own creation.

Angels weren't meant to hide their wings.


Jamaica Man!

Jamaica Man!

You like Usain Bolt,

And Bob Marley?

Yeah, that's all white boy really knows.

Doesn't know the secret like me.


Doesn't know irie,

Irie with God,

Into irie with the world,

Into you irie with me,


Doesn't know how it feels,

When the reggae pulsates,

Up through my feet,

With those first few beats,


Doesn't know the feeling,

Of a raw scalp,

As familiar hands twist and pull,

And a stern voice lies,

"This gon' hurt a bit chile"


Doesn't know that feeling,

When you give someone the nod,

Passing in the street,

A stranger and a bruda all in one,


Doesn't know the laughter and the hurt,

Of an island, of a country,

Divided by music

And sports, and drugs and crime,


And unfair laws,

Of a history lost,

Of a history intertwined,

English and Akan into pidgin into Patois,


But knowing Jamaica can,

Never be washed out of you,

Can never be condensed into two little words,

Jamaica, Man.




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