My love by Almira Lewis copyright!

The love I deserve,
The love I need ,
Is at the bottom of the ocean
Floating towards borders you can’t reach
Flying towards the sky and breaking atmospheric pressures,
You can’t comprehend

My love is as sweet as the honey comb,
As bitter as the sting of a knife pierced too deep as the blood shows more red than your heart,
It’s as high as Mount Everest,
As low as the depths that Satan cannot touch,
Lesser than but acknowledged by the creator

The love I want,
Is inside a hungry lion,
Apart of Daniel’s prayers,
As threatening as Isis,
As calm as the sunset,
With colours of confusion making outrage

My love is as fire, burning up without remorse,
With the healing touch of time,
My love is far from dignity,
But full of pride,
My love is a gun bullet,
Shooting all,
Refusing to save
While causing growth

This love is unknown, mischievous yet so pure!

Drugged Anatomy by Almira Lewis copyright!

Love me, love me oh
Don’t ever leave, don’t dare leave me (sings)

I am the symphony,
The octaves,
Ringing higher than the clouds,
The bystander understanding all that crosses my path,
I will shield thee,
Make my love pronounced upon you,
Sell you for a quick upgrade,
Never again will you be down,
Never again will you be found by what shows light,

A free ticket to the underworld,
Fill the flesh with all delights
And when you bounce back from this Alice story,
Call on the king,better yet the queen of kings,
I will save you,
Get you lost in the mentality of cruelty,
Of perversion,
And if they dare try to close your opened eyes,
My white disguise will strike back

Dare forsake me
And your insides will be the outsides of a vulture’s final climax,
The world will get smaller,your breath stretches only to loosen grip
And my loving arms will be open to receive from you
I am your greek mythology,
I am the missing side,
You am I ,
And I am you,
Don’t be lied to

Let me grip your veins,
Sooth your brain,
Bite at the exposed flesh,
Removing the hurting breaths,
Give you dreams of devils and forsaken spirits,
Let me love you the right way,
My way
Let me hurt you as soothingly
As the beautiful eclipse removing eyesight,
Let me blind you
I am the shiznayee,
Let me feed you,
I am bizzness,
Let me guide you,
Give me your spirit,
Let me torch it and lick the bruises,
And after this euphoria has ended,
Come back for me,
Baby you know your stranded, in your drugged anatomy

Feminist by Almira Lewis

This skin,
Thick with whip soars and insect-bitten stories,
Of everything needed to be done to bore mankind,
A mankind that will turn around and disrespect the ground, you tread on
So you walk lightly,
Seen and not heard,
Your laughter remains in your eyes,
Because it is not just the diversity of your skin that is to be corrected,
But your physical features call for a… less- than- attitude,

The philosophy should be,
If we stand, we stand on the same playing field,
I don’t take lead,
You don’t take supremacy,
We stand as worthy opponents yet companions,
When they tell me come in at nine,
You should be the right hand tagging along,
Forgetting all social imprints of what your being is supposed to be,

If we commit the same crime, then call the foul on us both,
And lock us up,
The game is rather ethical
The referee only sees team against team,
Not my femininity versus your masculine ability to flex at eager will

Together means your decisions and mine must reach a common ground,
For the sake of humanity,
For often wisdom is sensible, when both sides can just shake hands,
Don’t pull out the submissive card on me,
I was never going to disrespect your authority,
That throne you claim so easily,
But respect mines, knowing that my judgement may be more capable of working,
Than your heated, need to show off a quick, type of decision making,
Let’s work with a common goal and reach a beautiful compromise that works for each

When the fruits are ripe,
Let us both be virtuous in our own rights,
Don’t make me the mouse, all-cleaning, made to fit in prototype,
While you slander the name,
Of every inch of the creators project,
A project worth more than 100%

Talking about that 100,
Keep it one hundred and if we both did the work,
Let us both receive the same,
We talk justice,
But lies is the continuous name of the game

Let not pity, or ostracizing or belittling be once called amongst us,
But raise the children differently,
To never see physical features,
But team mates,
Ready and willing to be as equal counter parts to the other

Copyright!

Hair! by Almira Lewis (Copyright!)

White, thick, creamy,
It’s like voodoo,
But they think I’m oblivious,
Quite rude for not uttering my gratitude,
To the creator,
For removing the words kinky and nappy,
From society’s view

A certain forest reserve for the imagination of what my ancestor’s beauty,
With all this afro-nappy looked like,
A reservoir of appreciation to Mother Nature,
For taking her time to create the Keratin protein structure,
Chemically, correctly proportioned so that the kinks of the cis double bonds made sense,

But how could I,
Blinded at the time,
By the imagery of a magazine nation,
Infiltrating my mind with lies of a better hair day,
An uplifting from the plastic surgery of going straight,

My combs did not break anymore,
But the consistency was a bore,
Where was the ancestry,
Where was the innovation,
In the creations of my braids,
They laid unable to appreciate, the complexity of a style made for hair types of real galore
I did not see that,
That is what I regretted the most

But hairance to me, was a disgrace,
I felt cursed to be blessed with a hair so lusciously thick,
I could put chocolate out of the market,
My raw dark infusion with traces of grow,
Showed that my people’s wisdom,
Were already genetically engraved,
In the tones of my pitch,
The glow in my eyes,
The ideas that jump from mouth to paper
However ll I saw was a nappy head

I regret being captured by this foolish ideals,
By being drained for a quick fix,
To replace the outward while the inward crumpled,
For disassociating myself with the hair politics,
While I was a pioneer, unknowingly

But I will overcome and conquer,
The transition may be slow,
But I shall never despise the gift,
Of my forefathers
And yes,
To them I solemn swear to be nappy, kinky, and always care!

Good vs.Bad by Almira Lewis

I see the darkness in the dark,
Light in the eyes of the fugitive,
Dark in the eyes of the pure,
The space between evil and good,
Is but a thin line,
Made thick with bandages, ready to burst open,
We see the smile,
And visualize the perfection in another man’s life,
Yet the doll house,
Crawls with contamination

The pure indulge silently,
In the skeleton’s dance,
But cloth with for another fitting cause,
They attack the mounds with sticks and stone,
Only to lash at their reflection

They have bent and twisted their wide smiles,
Being temptation to the possible on-lookers,
With thinks he’s evil,
Fooled by a matrix,
When all pure purity,
Is in the concentration in his eyes

His eyes black with fury,
But calmed with love,
The injustice of the ostracized,
A building pressure to replace what’s his,
A never-ending sequel of bones,
Falling out of the closet

Yet his deeds,
Are searching for the acceptance speech of a lifetime,
For the recollection of a child burdened,
With the griefs,
Only he knows,
With a certain privilege,
To carry on,
Knowing the beauty of the struggle

A struggle for the love,
He gives so freely,
A struggle of the struggle,
Found within the struggle,
Leaving only a light beam

So, after all,
There is light in the fugitive
And dark in the pure

Copyright!

The Walls by Almira Lewis

The walls tell a story,
Of the broken whispers,
Infused with the haunting cries,
Of that kit-Kat child,
Easily daunted by the touch,
Of the superior man,

One of those men,
Momma lets in,
Because her disease is on an overdrive for victims,
She’s climbed the hierarchy,
And now the highest level is not as soothing,
So, she invites demon in,
After a quick fix, she receives her fixer…

The walls tell a story,
Of the cob-webbed stomach,
The darkness of the only house,
Without lights tonight,
Then there’s the eviction notice,
But its not the typical home,

Momma took off with the stranger,
That close friend she had,
Daddy always knew would slowly steal her away,
Now he’s the big man of the house,
Trying to make ends meet,
But the ropes just won’t get tied together…..

The walls tell a story,
Of the musical prodigy,
Born into the privileges of the white picket fence,
The only analogies he knows,
Are those of the winners of every Nobel Prize,
The famous composers of classical music,
The infinity of numbers,
Just like his parent’s money,
To look at the poor as unwilling to escape their daily reality

But his parents are never home,
He has accepted the replacement of his nanny’s theatrical voice,
For theirs,taking a role she ought not to,
It’s all in the game,
The gifts bought to replace the warmth of a mother’s touch,
Or the beauty in the sternness of a father’s warning,
He is the privileged but, there is no privilege….

The walls tell a story,
The story of the Latino,
Not authentic enough,
Because her role model is Hallie Berry and not J.Lo,
She is not the stereotype set before her,
She is not slutty or a drunkard or in some kind of joke gang,
But a straight A student,
Applying for the prestige scent Harvard leaves on its guests
She is easy on the eyes,
And stubborn in the head,
Knowing the danger of her neighborhood will soon be the past of her existence….

The walls tell stories,
Some never to be repeated,
Some stuck in the transit,
Waiting on the person who dares release the dark,
Because although some of these stories possess light,
Dark seem to take precedence,
Demons seem to override any hope,
Cried unto the ears of the never-leaving pillows,
The angels in their conquest to vanquish may arrive on time,
Most times,
However, the remaining few,
Often face a fate of tragedy,
Featured on the front page,
Of Shakespeare,
Their souls are stolen forever imprinted in the walls

So, open your eyes and ears,
And look around,
Before the walls swallow,
An unsuspecting soul,
Guard your hearts and guard your thoughts,
Even in trials,
Preserve the hope,
Let not your fate,
Lurk in the walls!

Copyright!

The growing love within me weeps! By Almira Lewis

This melodrama of emotions,
Sets Romeo and Juliet in motion,
The strings of my heart pull,
With each blissful smile,
Every look towards my direction,
Leaves only a glint in my eyes

It should be rather therapeutic,
But euphoria only makes it worse,
My pride won’t allow the caged bird within to fly free,
I hush therefore,
Allowing the words to choke me in silence

The ability to feel another body’s warmth,
In closet of proximities to mine,
Is the scoliosis that has curved every part of my mind,

How can this,
All African, Nigerian boy,
Want this easily poised,
Lover of all things on the greener side of freedom,
All Caribbean girl!

Yet there is a yoke,
I wish not to break,
As if some sort of hope,
Tells me that he whispers,
Away from my presence,
To the attentive walls,
The splendor I could possibly bring,
Taking in the sting,
He also feels

But my wishful thinking,
Is only getting the best of me,
Because eager smiles,
Have never really, deeply liked me,
So, I‘ll wait,
With potion in hand,
And a love letter of my heart’s silent suicide,
That if he kills,
His own heart for mine,
I know my feelings can no longer go unannounced.

Copyright!

 

 

Black oppression! By Almira Lewis

We are to pretend that black and white,
Is zing and zang,
That the highest level of judicial meditation has been achieved,
And our dark, suppressed souls are set free
Our blinds eyes,
Are being told to diminish faster,
So our brain starts to go slow

The lies we’ve been fed,
To appreciate the contributions of white paper,
Forgetting the foundation laid out by the black ink,
Because it crosses the margin

Our sons are thugs and idiots,
Having a certain self-righteousness,
Added to on Sundays,
By our Christianity,
A certain voodoo we indulge in by the scream in our cries,
And the psalms we recite,
The creator you say was invented,
An invention you once used to cripple this resistant mentality,

Placing us in prisons for crimes we have not understood how to commit,
For our nature is unwilling to Satan’s plans,
But he lurks in your shadows,
Never dressing as a sheep,
But preferring the exposure of daylight,
With all your pride,
After all, some of our own people have not recognized a war truly in disguise,
Our women,
Are now beautiful for a mocha skin,caramel tasting girl,
With hips spanning Earth’s orbits,
Moving with the melody,
Playing in the stride of her legs,
As she straightens the kinks to become acceptable,
A sort of political propaganda,
That dismisses the oppositions made by us,
The rather unworthy,undeserving of an opinion,opponents,

She decides to wear contacts,
Instead of her eyes,
Capable of cutting through a man’s genetic, built- in manipulations,
It’s easier to wash away the beauty that flows her skin,
With the chemicals made by her oppressor

They have pushed the issues under the rug,
Sweeping away the cockroaches,
Who have built truth,
From the lies

I will no longer be silenced,
I will no longer be lied to,
I will bear witness,
And will stand

The Blues of my people’s souls will be sung,
And if it begins with me,
I shall sing it!

Copyright!

We are woman by Almira Lewis

The movement of the wind,
The ripple of the waves,
The unknowing sand,
The rhythm of the rainfall,
The whistle of the trees,
The worship of the animals,
We are woman

Woman is the combination of all that brings life,
She is the movement of the wind in the sway of her hips,
The ripple of the waves,
In the shiny, drenched hair after washing,
The unknowing sand who will pursue her passion,
Regardless of,
The rhythm of the rainfall in the beating of her chest,
The whistle of the trees as she keeps every secret and pain handed down to her,
The worship of the animals,
Praising God’s creation for her remarkable beauty

The illumination of the sun,
The uniqueness of the stars,
Brotherly love of best friends,
Curling of the toes,
Fear in the child’s eyes,
We are woman

Woman is the combination of all that brings life,
Her smile is the illumination of a thousand suns,
Warming the wounded soul,
Her sensuality and personality are the uniqueness,
That awaken the royalty or star in every on-looker,
Her smooth poetry binds brotherly love with stronger chains,
The curling of the toes are the shyness that is so evident,
But can be such a colorful addition,
The fear in a child’s eyes,
Is every insecurity she allows to lay low,
Just to please

We are woman,
And in every wrong and right,
We are womanly strong,
Womanly brave,
Womanly bright,
And co-exist in every part of mother nature’s delight!

Copyright!