“Next up to the mic…” A voice over the PA system announced to the crowd anxiously awaiting the next poet in the Open Mic lineup. Langston sat in the back, remembering what his first time felt like. “Next up to the mic is a young man who goes by the name of Langston. You know… Continue reading Freedom (a short story)
Strange fruit, now covering the streets Juice bleeding black, dripping at my feet Black bodies dropping with each new day Quickly becoming the amerikkkan way Blatant bleaching of the stars & stripes Profiles to fit all stereotypes Cries for justice fall on deaf ears We be the victims of their fears Here is the fruit… Continue reading Strang(er) Fruit
I deleted and wrote this essay over at least twice. It was difficult to write because I was still sorting out my emotions. I didn’t want to vent and write an angry piece or feel compelled to have something encouraging to say. I also wanted to make sure this essay had a clear purpose, given… Continue reading Maybe She Should Have Just…
As more footage of the late Sandra Bland’s final hours of life spirals onto the desks of talking heads and news channel producers, I think it’s important to acknowledge the ability of film to distort and desensitize us to the abuse of another human being. We live in an age and culture where we have… Continue reading Traumatized Bodies, Desensitized Minds
You often hear about mass shootings on the news, but when it happens in your hometown, a small part of you dies. A few nights ago, a small part of me died. It was killed by emotions of anger, sadness, disappointment, a lack of understanding, and unabated rage. As a white man walked into what… Continue reading Cold-Blooded Killer or Mentally Disturbed?