Poems

Mind your mind.

I told myself, that I forgot how to write.
I forgot what it was like to let the pen,
lead my life.
S t e p p i n g back. I can see that my false busyness,
self doubt and insecurities bounded me,
trapped me &
I couldn’t be set free from the cage that is one’s mind.
The place where inspiration comes alive & dies.

Maybe, that’s why it’s called a battlefield of the mind.

© 2017 Nikkita Robert

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Poems

2/3.

They ask me where my strength comes from?
As if I went out and bought it.
They don’t understand, it’s embedded in me.
It has become me. It is me.

Dig deeper, digger.
Dig deeper.

When I say scars are familiar to me,
it is because I’ve let them filter
into my blood stream.
Not to define me, but always to remind me…
That the journey of woman, is never easy.
No.

But know this… I was raised on the shoulders
of women,
who fought injustice while smiling.
Who sung freedom songs
while working .
Who carried on when every ounce of them
wanted to stop.

So dig deeper, digger.
Dig deeper.

© 2017 Nikkita Robert

Poems

1/3.

In honour of International Women’s Day || Poem 1/3. 

Woman.
Women.
How beautiful are we?
Our eyes carry a vision,
of a world we want to see.
We gaze at the sunlight
and let her beam
reflect our beauty.
We travel through the world,
creating and raising life.
But women,
when we unite.
There’s something we’ve done right,
we reach another level of respect,
for every woman we’ve pulled up
and cheered on – while she fights,
her hardest battle ever.
Being woman for the rest of her life.

© 2017 Nikkita Robert

Poems

Smile, baby.

Smile baby, smile baby, smile.

Inside my Nana’s laugh,
I witness my mother.
Her candid spirit which,
stretches deep like the ocean
with no telling whose heart it’ll reach.

Smile baby, smile baby, smile.

Inside my Nana’s laugh,
there is a struggle overcome.
Her journey to reach freedom, done.
By the ability to love souls,
even those who lay cold.

Smile baby, smile baby, smile.

Inside my Nana’s laugh,
I witness myself and the woman
I’ll become. Freckled face, chest and back.
Each one a visible reminder
of the generation of women, I come from.

Smile baby, smile baby, smile.

Inside my Nana’s laugh,
there is a confidence that only God
can provide. Where tomorrow’s troubles
stay for tomorrow. And the laughter for today
is shared around the room,
equally.

Smile baby, smile baby, baby.
Smile baby, smile baby, smile.

© 2016 Nikkita Robert

Poems

I am black girl…

I am black girl, and she is me.
I won’t apologise for the way God made me to be.

But you.
You, who twist your neck,
when my hair doesn’t seem in “check”.
You, who notices the pigmentation of my skin,
before welcoming me in.
I won’t apologise for the way God made me.

I am black girl, and she is me.
I won’t apologise for the way God made me to be.

And you,
Yes you.
Who constantly paints stereotypes
over my body, erasing any speck of melanin you see.
You, who judged way too early.

I am black girl, and she is me.
I won’t apologise for the way God made me to be.
This melanin pumping, afro wearing
princess,
the daughter of an almighty King.
Who teaches to look beyond a person’s skin.

I am black girl, and she is me.

© 2016 Nikkita Robert

Poems

Goodbye.

My goodbye didn’t mean forever
nor see you later.

It meant that I would keep our memories,
memorise your heartbeat and love you forever.
When I said goodbye to my Papa,
I was asking Jesus to take good care of you.
Making sure he had a rum punch or two,
waiting for you.
When I said goodbye to my Papa,
I knew that tomorrow looked different
and it would take a while to trust the sunshine again.

But when I said goodbye, I meant
“Thanks for the ride”

© 2016 Nikkita Robert

Poems

Only Girl.

I don’t know if he looks at me like I’m the only girl in the room.
But I hope so.
I hope his eyes recognise every outline of my character.
I pray his ears hear every word I speak.
And may his heart react to the glimpse of my smile.
Making him nervous, extremely nervous.
May his hands want to reach out for me.
Pull me closer,
and call me his.

I don’t know if he looks at me like I’m the only girl in the room.
But if he does,
I assume he’ll react this way.
Leaving this heart at the finish line of fear,
and declare me as his four letter word.

© 2016 Nikkita Robert

Poems

A dreamer’s reality…

You have become my dream,
you leave me experiencing
symptoms of a contagious nostalgia.
Memories become blurred,
and I wonder if they even happened.

You have become my dream,
and I can’t keep hold of it.
I try and place you in a jar
and picture our moments in a cloud-like
bubble.
But, even bubbles burst.
And reality dawns on me,
that you. You are a moment of a season,
in a chapter of my life.
That I had stuck on replay.
And these days, my mouth cannot
even fathom to say your name.

© 2016 Nikkita Robert