grown woman self love

the poetic greats whisper to me “Young women, live lives of freedom now Wait not for the liberation of gray hairs, and saggy skin, Be free now in your youth” The eyes of the greats bear down on my blank pages Daring my pen to dance the flamenco, tango break out from its measured two-step… Continue reading grown woman self love

Healing Through Poetry

Anyone can be a poet. Yes, you read that correctly. ANYONE can be a poet. In fact, poetry is something we were all born with. From the womb, our bodies were being created by poetry. Not with words but with sounds, vibrations, light—and lack thereof—binding energy, love, pain… everything that is needed for a great… Continue reading Healing Through Poetry

once i’ve seen

I see them consuming our pain Bite after bite, like it’s an appetizing kernel of the popcorn in their hands Taking in the stories of our youth, our desperation, our devastation of opportunity Like they’re candy I’m sitting here, thinking to myself, These are the stories of poverty, of pain, The stories that can become… Continue reading once i’ve seen

Oh, I’m Fine (Dammit!)

“Where have I been?” I used to wonder. Was it a rock or someone’s spell that I been under. Don’t wanna knock my people, but we closed as doors. And the stench up in this bitch we simply can’t ignore. No more! I’m no ostrich, though I been ostracized — kept out, curb-kicked, marginalized. But… Continue reading Oh, I’m Fine (Dammit!)

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Categorized as Poetry Tagged

Papa Was a Rolling Stone

P apa is rolling stone Piece of sediment covered with dirt rain soot fractures my mother’s tears Praise its speed Praise its swiftness Praise the mineral that was never concrete A tribal stone that rolled its way from Africa and cotton field Praise the stone that broke too many glass houses glass women This Rolling… Continue reading Papa Was a Rolling Stone

We.

brothas: you are right. They don’t care. They may never. but We do. don’t let their abuse become an excuse to relinquish your life and your heart. look at consider draw inspiration from your babies, siblings, aunties, daddies, nanas, mamas, spouses, loved ones, pop-pops, cousins, homies, uncles, mom-moms… …We. the lovers that take you in,… Continue reading We.

Open Letter From a Mother

Child, there is greatness in your lineage I won’t trace each and every root for you they’re too nappy Lord knows this tree been grown in some shit soil beady with miseducation southern fried and fatty but there was greatness here still is set in North Carolina cotton fields we had no business breaking mason… Continue reading Open Letter From a Mother

Love Gaps

We are only heard from our graves / Depicted as the help or 40 million dollar slave / To whip work or catch a similar case / Of mathematics is problematic because this tragic habit is not in our fave / Or…institutionalize our lifestyle as a crime / like black military women with natural hairstyles… Continue reading Love Gaps