ebele has been writing (& writing & writing) since mid-2002. It all started with a poetry competition, which later turned out to be a scam, but by then, the desire to write had been firmly planted. A Nigerian-brown East-Londoner who loves hugs, mangoes, dreams, ice cream ...and Body Shop Coconut Body Butter ...and New York.
poetry is a woman
Un-natural blonde from poetry is a woman
I’m really upset.
I’m really, really upset.
I'm really upset
'cos I just found out that
is not a natural blonde.
This is my story.
This is my truth.
I saw her coming out of Boots
you know - the one down High Street Kensington?
Saw her coming out of Boots
clutching a box of Clairol to her chest.
Was gonna go up to her
ask her if she’d ever tried
porridge with cinnamon,
chopped banana and raisins
but then I saw her hair
and it was brown – I tell you – BROWN.
You see, we as a people
have been lied to
for so long, too long if you ask me
and I say it’s time to stand up
time to stand up to the web of lies
they weave so effortlessly.
So, head held high, I walked up to Goldilocks
and gave her a piece of my mind.
Told her she was nothing but a storybook ho’
a figment of no-one’s imagination
and I can’t believe it
she just kissed her teeth and kept on walking.
You guys don’t believe me, do you?
Open a storybook
and look at her roots real close.
But I’m telling you now
when the truth finally comes out
when the baby poo hits the fan,
where you heard it first.