She walks up the street

Head down

Hood up

The pavement is her catwalk and the rain is her music

She walks confidently

Taking her time with each stride

Dancing with the wind at her side

They are scared

Scared because her face is unseen

Scared because of the colour of her skin

But she is human

As real and as human as you or me

Yet they move swiftly to the other side of the street


She continues up the street

She notices a bunch of men behind her

That does not seem to change her manner

But she is aware

Aware of the potential risk

She plans her escape route in case things should go awry

They see her

They laugh and giggle

She notices that too, so her pace increases by two.

They follow her,

and just as she was about to turn the corner

They pass in front of her, smile, and keep on walking.



My heart cannot beat for nothing.

I get all the attention but never from you

Like a nightmare, you torment me

Delve into my subconscious

When you say you will call, but don’t

I don’t even know if it’s because you’re genuinely busy

Or you just don’t care

You choose to call me when you want to talk

Am I just your side bitch?

But I still like you,

Still drawn to you

I can’t say no.

I need someone to brainwash me,

Remind me that I’m suffering,

Because you were older,

I thought you were going to be more responsible

Guess I was wrong.

And now I am stuck.

Do you love me?

Or do you not?

That is the question.

By Georgette and Shalom



I really want to love you.

But I’m scared you might spoil me rotten.

Or chew me up like a dogs bone.

You might love me tenderly,

or let me go easy…

It’s all the same.

You are the risk.

If I was explicit you’d lose interest.

But if I don’t let you know, how can you know?

Boys are so slow in figuring out what they want at the right time.

A guy once said to me, “Girls know in 10 minutes, guys in 10 years…”

So far it seems to be true.

Your smile,

your voice,

you make me laugh,

Fill up my day –

You are who I think about.

I needed to let this out,

to let this go…

Cause the way things are going…

my love for you is confined to this poem.



I’m tired of saying the same old thing to the same people every damn time
It’s like it goes through one ear and out the other.
Is it so hard for people to understand you, to comply with your words?
We live in world that even though we think we have choices, we really have none
We have to be friends with certain people.
Because without friends, you never really learn life’s lessons
Without friends, you never get to go to sleepovers, or birthday parties
All trivial, but yet so important!
We concern ourselves, with surrounding ourselves with amazing people
The smarty’s who make us smart
The popular kids who invite us to all the shindigs
The Afrocentric peeps,’ cause we want to remember a little piece of home
The gang, the unit.
The boys, the girls.
Our people,
Your person.
Because those people are your friends
Or so you think.
In a little while, you’ll be ostracised, put aside,
Left to crumble and cry.
Why? So you can learn a lesson, remember who is boss.
The fact is, without you, they will be nothing…
Without you,
What they think is perfect, becomes a single shade of an opaque glass
Left in the rain, with raindrops covering it.
In the cold, in the snow.
With no one,
To all the people that have ever been victimised: this is for you
Pick up all the pieces to the puzzle they have created,
Put it all back together,
And take solace in the fact that they make your life hell when they themselves are living in a mixed up conundrum.


The Youth

Look at the youth of our generation, crimping and crumping to beats of the beat boxers heard over the radio station

‘Stay tuned for more’ it says while he goes off for a second.

So the youth in the meantime try to ensure that someday their song will be heard by millions

We seem to be so obsessed with this new phrase Y.O.L.O

People’s rebuttals have been but you only die once yo!

We concern ourselves with the ‘get rich or die trying’ analogy

That’s why you have greedy men, and hungry girls diggin’ for gold

It’s the pot of gold that is only found at the bottom of a rainbow

So off they go in search of success, using any means possible which leads to regrets

They realise too late in the day the kind of path to have followed

Meanwhile they tease those that choose to concern themselves with books not looks

Don’t get me wrong here, if music is your passion, then by all means go for it

All I’m highlighting, are those without talent who continuously try to push it

Music isn’t your only platform for success, what about Art, Drama, Astrology or Contests

Why not try your hand at that, instead of trying to conform

Instead we hear “them bitches, them n****s in the house, we gonna f**k this place like p***y’s never asked!”

Is that the kind of music we should be used to?

Why accept such trash when we know they haven’t got a clue

A clue to the way music is and should be produced

Our parents frown and state ‘‘this music of nowadays,’’

With a look that demonstrates their disdain

I guess what I am trying to say is live your life to the fullest

But do it so that you are following your real passion; not somebody else’s vision


The Search

How does one explain that they have so much love to give, but no one to give it to?

She has different guys, knocking at her door, giving her one lie after the other

As a self – concious girl, who wants to guard her heart, she decides to put aside her first thoughts

Her mama taught her never to judge a book by its cover…

But she also told her to trust her gut…

Trust her gut she tried, but with his beautiful smile, she decided to deny her heart

Her heart of the true love she knew she deserved.

Instead she went down a road that was not the truth to behold.

She soon uncovered months later that it was all a lie.

He claimed he wanted out,

She asked why?

Why didnt he tell her earlier, was he expecting her to pull her cookie out of  her cookie jar?

People tell you to embrace life as it comes, allow people to come into your life

Little do they know that you still have a reputation to uphold.

We live in a world that favours men,

Ever heard of the phrase double standard?

Women are perceived as sluts if  they have had to kiss more frogs than princes.

Men on the other hand are given the upper hand, are hailed and seen as tuff guys.

So the ugly cycle continues, until it gets to a point that she totally breaks down,

She sheds a few tears, is depressed for a few days and then she picks herself up.

Up she goes, to live another day, face another male.

Another comes, this time wth the same story, just packaged differently, will she ever find her man?



I am not in the mood to speak to anyone.

It seems like the words that protrude, from their mouths seems so crude,

I don’t mean to be rude,

But I rather be alone, and lost in my thoughts – alone.

I know they reach out because they care,

But can’t they see that I rather be rare.

A rare animal left on its own, away from the world.

Not locked in a cage they have asked it to call home.

I don’t need to belong.

I don’t want to be seen in the state that I’m in – alone.

I rather be away from this place, away from the people who care, who leave me to wear.

My head hurts.

My heart hurts.

It’s been bruised and confused, and I stand here bemused, because I caused it.

I take my punishment like anyone should…

I want to be alone.

My heart crunches.

With every heart beat, my blood boils within me.

My mind is on replay.

It replays every last moment, it harbours of us. It places that in mind – and my heart beings to cry,

Because it has been hurt.

I have been hurt.

I laid myself bare, no boundaries, no care.

Because of him.

So now,

As I am locked in the confines of my mind, with my heart that cries,

I want to be seule.*

Georgette Monnou ©

*Seule – alone in French