Apollo The Child - OG 500 Winner
Photo by James Park
Khaleefa "Apollo The Child" Hamdan, spoken word poet and co-director of Ottawa slam poetry collective, Urban Legends, won the OG 500 Poetry Slam at the 2017 House of PainT to a roaring audience of Ottawans. Hamdan is an active member of the Ottawa cultural scene, co-host of The Home Invasion Show, on CKCU, and a regular contributor to PACE Magazine.
I watch it shake
Curl and take shape
Moving in the way it wants to
In it's own pace
Envious of the way it lives,
You should see the way my mouth gapes
My hair, the mane
Defiant in the way it hangs
I remember my father once asked me
When I would cut it down
This was back in my afro days
Back when I wore my own crown
I've never been one for monarch
Or even world leaders
I've often seen their evil ways
But this crown was mine
This was around the time
When the United States went to war
With Iraq again
Under the guise of weapons of mass destruction
Defiant
I refused to reduce the size of my hair
Defiant
I told my pops I would do cut it down when Iraq was truly free
Defiant
Free from Saddam Hussein
Free from the United States
Free from the hatred my people seemed to have shackled themselves to
A shame
How we try so hard to differentiate
Even though we are one and the same
Sunnis kill shiites
Shiites kill Sunnis
Even though we are one and the same
And what Saddam Hussein did to the Kurds
Can never be forgotten
It can never be forgiven
And so I grow my hair
And I am proud of the way it hangs
Like octopus tentacles
It tangles
Knowing it is stronger together
Like my people should be
I thank the old white ladies for the compliments
I tell them,
“No you may not touch my hair, I am not your dog to be petted. To you it is only hair but to me, it
is my antenna to the Heavens”.
And it curls
And it shakes
And it moves
In the ways my life's avenues do
It is for me, it is not for you
Samson it gives me strength
It reminds me of my heritage
Of desert sands
And palm trees full of dates
And so
I will sow a date tree seed in me
So when I die
And meet the reaper
I will always have my home with me
I want my body's decay
To be able to provide shade
In a place
Where they are so quick to throw it
Rather than break bread
I kneed the dough
Because I need the dough
Working overtime to feed my home
So fuck your hair nets
And minimum wage
I'm trying to keep my family fed
Callused hands to complete the set
In kindergarten they used to mock
My mop and my locks
Like their wasn't beauty
In the wild and unkempt
So for a little while
I lived in self contempt
I thought I was ugly
But now I realize that this wild hair is a gift
Ma ameshud sharee
Akalee whoua whoua
(I will not comb my hair
I will leave it as is)
I'm more proud of it
Now that I grew up
And I let it loose
On every stage
As I produce
Art with these words I say
And I leeeeeaaaaan back
And I oil my curls
And I repeat
Ma ameshud sharee
Akalee whoua whoua
And I repeat
I will not comb my hair
I will leave it as is
And I hope to God that it tangles
Knowing that it is stronger together
Like humanity should be