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 Topic: future haitian poets |
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| belle_tigason18 |
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Standard Member
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United States
January-04-2003
46 Posts |
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post any poetry u wrote or would like everyone to hear
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mint |
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Message posted by Kokorat on January-22-2003 at 7:31am - IP Logged
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| Kokorat |
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Standard Member
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Haiti
October-24-2002
192 Posts |
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How about some Haitian petery...or poetry about Haiti?
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Respekte Kokorat! |
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Message posted by amberabdias on January-28-2003 at 2:02pm - IP Logged
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| amberabdias |
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Standard Member
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United States
December-02-2002
410 Posts |
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guess there isn't any!
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"Prejudice is the child of ignorance." ~ Hazlitt |
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Message posted by Guest on January-29-2003 at 12:11pm - IP Logged
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| Guest |
Standard Member
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October-03-2002
3065 Posts |
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kiyes kap soufri si pa ta janm gen goumen?
si'w vle demen annou met men pou'n ka renmen.
Twonpet liberasion an / li sonnen.
etwal di maten / ve lorizon li gentan limen.
se pa tout sa je we / men (la main) ka manyen.
men sa je pa we / ke (coeur) nou ka touche.
Bennchoumy "the analogist" du groupe SHEPHERDS |
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Message posted by makendal30 on January-30-2003 at 10:33am - IP Logged
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| makendal30 |
Standard Member
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United States
January-30-2003
11 Posts |
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Raining Revolution
It's
Raining
Revolution.
No you, no me, no us
we turn to dust
if we lose the lust
for rain.
Let the higher one
drop me some
hide the sun
for just one minute
so I can feel it
I can drink it,
some rain.
Hear it, see it
on my face I feel it
rain,
have everything to gain
and sometimes/all times
in my head
where clouds are always fed
there is rain.
many forms
and many norms
need to
let it rain
on the insane
mental deserts
that seem to blame
everything around them around me
just let it rain
feed the seeds that will birth
black conscious babies
not poisoned with white anglo-saxon protestant isms or six-pointed middle eastern stars of control and domination,
lost in cultural prisms
or are they really building underwater prisons
cuz black men can't stay underwater anymore than we already have
drowning mentally, physically, legally, socially, LITERALLY!
Hidden in the Bushes is a fear
of the rain I ask for and plead,
they know the need
but fear to feed
and let us grow strong,
it's been so long too long
they now love domination and have been hypnotized by the power,
to the very last hour
black deserts will be forced to remain dry
but their sunlight is an abomination so
Mr. Mr.
let it rain
rain on my people and in my people
let the rain ripple
throughout
let the sun and the clouds scream and shout
but let it rain!
The water of life, mentally rinsing me, physically drenching me
removing the psychological stench in me
I've got a wrench in me
tightening on my nuts
and my bolts!
Mr. Rain, tear drops of Mother Nature
I don't need an umbrella and I don't hate ya
Most are frowning upon your arrival
but I need you for survival
And when you fall on my mentality,
rinse me mentally,
wash my community
cleanse my society
I will run outside to properly
greet you
my hand out with a smile "Very nice to meet you"
Let it rain, take my pain, I said,
along with all the dead
glad to meet you
now please drip and drop so you can fill me
ya feel me, rain on me
with an immeasurable amount of security
knowing my Higher One acknowledges me
as if each drop of rain is aimed toward me
drenching me, soaking me wet with revolution
and washing my dissolution
pulling a magic trick on confusion
snap! gone!
raining on integration
and feeding separation
raining on revolution, washing relaxers out and all of these perms
washing away all the germs
placed in black "un"consciousness
with rain I bless
libations to confess
to the ground
that from it I may have come but "it" I am not,
not dirt but gold
previously bought and previously sold
truth be told
by my own people I was betrayed, black Africans were their own Judas',
everyday with the et tu brutuses
black knives in black backs
listen to the sound on these tracks
black rain train is coming for Black Judases
now having hung ourselves out to dry
mental throat is parched
damn we thirsty
and now my head is arched
lord have mercy
eyes closed,
praying
know what I'm saying?
hoping
while I'm coping
with situation
and everyone's mental/verbal masturbation
I ask author of creation
for a little rain donation
to bring down rain, pour down life
send down joy
ease the pain
kill the Cain
in all our hearts
and just let Abel
be able
to live
let it rain. Rain on me.
Rain on us.
No more dust.
Rain revolution
rain a solution
to the ghettos
so we can get hoes
to realize
it's time to close them thighs
open up minds
and stop gettin mines'
while brothers die in coal and diamond mines
so we can bling bling and profile
close them thighs
and listen to the cries
of Conscious Baby always getting aborted,
minds distorted
baby daddy departed
let there be rain, but let lightning find him,
Let It Rain!
Rain!
hey you, close your umbrella and put away your hat,
let it rain on you and on all inflicted people
let rain be medication for all infected people
let rain bring back all dissected people
let rain be the catalyst to ressurrect my people
with hearts as thick as a million tombstones
names of families previously thrown
to future abyss
with a white kiss
to start slave existence
rain is the only resistance
so brothers and sisters
raise your hands to the sky and...
let it rain.
open up your minds and...
let it rain.
Let it rain in the hills of Jacmel
and let the rain have a story to tell
Let it rain in St. Marc in the sunlight and in the dark
let rain shower
on the ones with the powers
to keep my poor begging outside their doors
on those who still make little girls their whores
let it rain in Cite' Soley and Gros Morne too
in Au Cap and also Carrefou
let it rain inside the National Palace
let them drink rain from a poisoned chalice
let them drink rain for all the malice
for the blasphemy
on Antoine Izmery
let it rain until they search, until they seek
the murderer of Jean Dominique
let it rain on earth and in hell
for the killings in Gonaives and Jean Rabel
let it rain as former sons sit in France
wishing they now had a chance
to once again dance
under a haitian star
perhaps repent for this never-ending cauchemar!
let it rain
let it rain and unearth husbands and children so long missing
buried without even a prayer for them dying
never ever having known where they were lying
for proper burial and tears from family
let it rain into the cavity
that is cavernous, dark and deep
let it rain to remind them of the promises of the past they must keep
let it rain.
rain on you rain on me rain on ayiti RAIN ON OLD MENTALITY. RAIN.
MAK30 |
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Message posted by makendal30 on January-30-2003 at 10:38am - IP Logged
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| makendal30 |
Standard Member
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United States
January-30-2003
11 Posts |
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Like three day old milk left on the counter,
a growing stench that permeates your nostrils,
this is when love goes bad.
Like a 76 chevy that never got a tune up and leaked oil
but she came to change all that put herself back on her pedestal and raise her own standards.
With headwraps
fingersnaps and spoken words
with oils and candles and rocks and all
sorts of ingredients
she brought her manifestation of self into reality,
crossing her would be a calamity
no fast food,
no fast love
and no living in the fast lane,
black man could no longer blame
lack of understanding
on the sister's inadequacy.
Lack of comprehension between the flames of her soul understand?
She was Mammy and maid,
Caribbean Aunt Jemima
but no one could stop her
runaway train destined for a repetition of greatness
, she said to hell with the black man's lateness
no longer wanted to be girlfriend and/or mistress...
Wall street and master of her own destiny
calling her a bitch was your own blasphemy,
cuz now
see how
she is pure
corporate and tar baby thug,
in just one hug
she possessed the warmth of the sun,
the depth and vastness of the universe
her beauty a curse to my eyes
her walk an invitation to my stiffening thighs
and her eyes...those eyes!
deep like the rivers of the motherland
running shivers through the burning sands of my desert and deserted mind. She spoke languages once thought long gone and dead,
made love and gave head to her man while Coltrane was playing
while Dizzy was busy
feeding the arts with fire and brimstone
jazz right next to Monk who sunk classical music like a basketball with three seconds left,
she was slamdunk alley-oop amazing!
She could twist you into a knot
and straighten you out
without having to scream or shout
and never leave you with any doubt
that she had your back.
New sister
Nubian sister each blister on her hands
the pain of her existence to BE...eyes on the horizon
with breasts as soft and enticing
as smoked salmon and ebony vinaigrette
and you could definitely bet
that no mango could be as sweet and succulent as her lips, with kreyol avocadoes dripping haitian molasses too sweet for me to taste.
She read books on revolution
revolutionized books on love
and womanhood,
came from the hood
to make sure she was understood
in high heels or boots, dresses or jeans
she evoked "by any means"
in every one of her steps
ripped stars down from black night's sky,
and placed them in her eyes,
milked the moon of its light,
and turned day into night
filled the universe every morning with her breath
she said she had no man and that no man had her, free spirit, to catch her was to catch wind and smoke in your hands,
touching her was like volcanic
and cataclysmic.
every hieroglyph and ancient drum,
every griot's song
emitted themselves from the locks of her hair,
she asked me why it is i stare
at her with such awe
to which i replied, i have never seen heaven before
embodied in a haitian woman...
with that she kissed my lips
and gently moved her hips
like the tide of the ocean
undulating and mixing with kreyol magic potions,
caressed my neck and said
you are so hungry for love it's time to be fed...
as my hands swept her hair i could tell
she was filled with the rivers of Jacmel
and as i caressed her skin, smooth and dark
i was taken back to the hills of St. Marc
bent my knee to caress her feet
and tasted the sweetness of L'Artibonite.
Even when she was wearing a weave
she looked like a Kreyol Queen from Gonaive
breasts and thighs that seemed to fill
all of the streets of Petionville
with a voice that seemed tongue soft and sure
she became my erotic cure
saliva as sweet as kremas, thick and smooth,
this sister was more of my groove.
She said let's go take over the world but,br> let's start with your heart, and that's when my entire past fell apart. pain was washed away along with disappointment with every one of her kisses and each and every flick of her tongue,
every church bell had finally rung
inside my soul,
her depth and wetness my ultimate goal,
on soft warm grass or perhaps on the beach
I wanted to know if i could reach
her apex and zenith, the top of her mind, body and soul but before i could ask, she opened up the door and let me in,
a whole new world. |
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Message posted by makendal30 on January-30-2003 at 10:44am - IP Logged
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| makendal30 |
Standard Member
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United States
January-30-2003
11 Posts |
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Love Cookin
there is no other way to describe
what you truly imbibe.
black woman of so many shades
whose beauty cuts through me like a million blades
i stare from afar and delight in your edifice
i can see and feel just how sensuous
you could be if i seasoned my love and cooked it in your heart
hmmmm, black woman of many shades
where shall i start?
the heat from your eyes is like a magic oven
preheated to 450 degrees for some seismic lovin
if you were mais moulu i would be your saus pwa,
if you were lambi i would be your nwa,
if you were calaloo se ak toute cinq dwet pou'm ta manje'w
si ou te youn kokoye se ak toute fos mwin pou'm ta graje'w.
yeah baby, this is love cookin, love seasoning, love makin love.
if you were fish, i would spice you and steam you in the butter of my hands, stew you with red and blue peppers of my soul and deep fry you in the mental pot of my third eye so that i could see if you could still swim into my mentality.
you are like dyon dyon that once immersed into my liquids you show your true dark complexion
yet within the boiled waters of our love
i still see my reflection,
sweet dyon dyon woman
feel the movement.
wouldn;t you love to be my pintade au vin noire? simmer in the delights of kreyol love cookin, nah baby i ain;t trippin.
in fact you could be my pitimi and harengsau,
we could eat each other on a nat, on the floor
you could be the kwi that i put my banane boukanin
with love cookin nou prale' lwin
nou prale' jisk nen morne pou gade' la ville,
pou'm karese deyais kou'w and ask, "how does that feel?"
maybe i could suck you like a mango, your juices so sweet,
you could best believe i wouldn't even brush my teeth
but would let all of your swwwweeeeeeet fibers live in my oral orifice
for all to see and all to witness
you would be my kassav whose back i crack and spread my thick "manba"
on our love plantation, no slave or master,
the zaboka to your mayimoulin ak fey
i could be the crab deeply immersed in the psalm 51 of your legumes lalo as you see fit
or the doombwey thick in your bouyon tet cabrit!
either way, there's gonna be some love cookin goin on this christmas and i'm gonna drink you like you were kremas stick my finger into your glass, taste some of that creme ass and ssssssssssssssllllllllllrp the residual thickness, kremas essence, all of your wetness! there's gonna be some kreyol love cookin so just get ready. keep the fire slow and let it burn steady! the chef is comin in your kitchen to stand your heat.
(to be continued)
MAK30
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Message posted by amberabdias on January-30-2003 at 11:25am - IP Logged
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| amberabdias |
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Standard Member
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United States
December-02-2002
410 Posts |
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Thanks you for sharing! makendal30, can we know something personal from the poet?
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"Prejudice is the child of ignorance." ~ Hazlitt |
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Message posted by kreyolbro on January-30-2003 at 7:08pm - IP Logged
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| kreyolbro |
Standard Member
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United States
November-11-2002
458 Posts |
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