Miss Inde’ Kills Mr. Chivalry

I’m all that
An’ a bag of perzat
Don’t need no man to do for me
What I already do for me.
I’m Miss Inde’.
Educated
Liberated
Complicated
Got my degree, an Msc., a PHD
A house, a car
And plenty of money.
Step back!!
Wid your dry chat
I checked the oil level already
I fixed the blocked drain
Hung the picture frame
Don’t need you taking care of me.
I’m Miss Inde’.

“Let me get the door”
What for?
Got two hands and a brain
I can do it myself
Thanks all the same.

“Let me pay”
No that’s OK!
Never let it be said
You paid to get to my bed
I can pay my own way.

“It’s cold. Here’s my coat”
Is that a joke?
Think I can’t handle a little rain
Brother you’re insane
Coming with you 1960’s tired game.

One! Two! Three”
Stabs to the heart
Miss Inde’ departs
Killing Mr Chivalry
Dead in his path.
Oblivious
Cantankerous
Conspicuous
Murderous

But soon she’ll complain:
“He never does anything for me
No Flowers
No romance
No intimacy
Huh! Brothers!
They’re all the same
Can’t take Miss Inde’
Black Sista Queen
I’m too strong for him to tame.
Says I intimidate
Says I infuriate
Says I emasculate
Miss Inde’ always gets the blame.”

Deborah L. Harper © 02/08/04

Generation Ex

“Excuse me girl”, he said to me
“You’re looking fine, I like what I see”
I thought, hmm not my cup of tea
But I’ve had some fine brothers
Dog out on me.
Maybe the love
Of an ugly bruv
Is what I need.
Soon we realise this ain’t meant to be
He steps, I’m ex, who’s next!

So I stop and look around
I realise generation ex is in every crowd:
Ex-cused, Ex-communicated
Ex-terminated,
Ex-man, ex-wife,
Ex-boss, X-Box

Our generation
Has stopped communicating
We’ve lost the secret recipe
To longevity
Our children grow up with mummy
On weekends and holidays
They may see daddy
She works round the clock
Thinking every man is a –
He thinks all women are the same
We all play the blame game
But then
I won’t get vex,
Just re-write the text.

Generation ex have more options
But make bad choices
More opportunities and get out clauses
Better universities and research facilities
Slicker cars, bigger houses
Wide screen TV, MP3’s
Broadband connectivity
And more single 30 something’s
Than in the 1950’s
Less teenage pregnancies
But older baby-mummy’s
More “Independent Women”
Looking for their “Black Brother”
While affirming “I’m a Survivor”.

There are still some fine brothers out there
And plenty fine sisters who care
But my selection for the next generation
Won’t be based on looks or complexion
Not on height, depth or flight reservations
But on character, openness, communication
Love, commitment, respect and devotion
I want to put a stop to the ex generation.

Deborah © 1/08/04

Closer my tail

The more things change
My constant remains
The more I move
The more I stay the same
There's constant blame
About working for no gain
On living on grain
The more my wheel turns
The closer my tail
The harder I run
The greater the fail
Bloody Hell
Exhale!

Deborah 2005