I have slacked on uploading poems to YouTube but I’m back on it. Listen to new uploads “Addict,” and “She is,” and be sure to subscribe for notification of more poems. (Courage and On the Self-Care Movement have also been added.)
She is Neo-Soul
And conscious rap
She is a jagged edge
And digital underground
And Steve Cokely
She is Luther Vandross and Jaheim
Destiny’s Child and SWV
She is smooth like Joe, political like Kweli
And rules like Deborah under the palm tree
She is no newborn
But neither is she ancient
Her mind is both fresh and seasoned
Experienced and innocent
She does not fit in, nor does she try
The world isn’t big enough to shelve
light is MC
Souls of Mischief
She is a timeless prayer
And worth far more than rubies
She Mos Def does not seek to be understood
By people already committed to misunderstanding
Are not up for debate
She is classic literature
And urban fiction
She does not waver
She does not fold
an old soul
Your scent lingers long after you’ve gone
I breathe you
Intoxicated by the integrity
of your soul
You leave and I lay in bed
inhaling your spirit
anxious for a whiff of your mind
hungry for a sip of your wisdom
dazed by the intellect of the lyrics you spew so effortlessly
I’m an addict for your words
Conversation is an intimacy
deeper than penetration
All these years
and we are closer
than when we first
Every living thing wants to be loved
We need it like the lyrics in our throats when the beat drops
on our favorite song
like the natural way our bones jump
and our legs twitch
and our hands move about
and we dance
Every living thing needs to be loved
like dandelions in a field trying to convince the world
that they are not just weeds
We hope someone will care enough to watch over us
And not transgress our boundaries
Won’t severe our flowers from their roots
Won’t pluck our souls
From its skin
We do not need to be picked and fussed over
We hope only, to be loved
To be cared about while breath
Still feeds our lungs
Hoping someone will love us intentionally
Like the giggles of a child
Free, raw, and innocent
Hope to be as valuable as the swell
Of a woman’s womb
and the protruding belly that everyone wants to touch,
but no one does without permission
The delicate miracle we all want to protect
and we hope to be miracles too
a surprising welcome worthy of protection
because every living thing
wants to be loved
Not all poems are conceived in light
Some of them are buried in darkness
Surrounded by dirt and soil
and clenched fists.
Sometimes the lyric is a resurrection of rage
a fire that is only quenched through spilled ink
on blank pages.
Sometimes poems are tears
because not all compositions are conceived
in well-lit rooms
some poems are seeds that only grow in darkness
or did you not know that is how seeds grow?
Hidden, covered and planted in the dirt
the sun coming in from someplace outside of itself
water pouring in from someplace outside of itself.
Some sonnets are crushed grapes
crumpled and left for dead
or did you not know that is how wine is made?
festered and developing into something worse.
Some poems are nearly dead
before they reach the light.
Or did you not know that is how Messiah rose?
from the grave
from the pit
from the earth.
When you feel that you cannot write
that your life is a laughing contradiction
thrown back into your face
a joke everyone gets but you
when your hands tremble with uncertainty
too weak to hold the pen
too fragile to unvirgin the page
Because not all poems are conceived in light
some of them, the best of them
are buried in darkness
and covered in dirt.
until suddenly, like a sprouting seed
a poem is born.
REMINDER: Don’t forget to preorder Keep Yourself Full in ebook below. Free with Kindle Unlimited.
Keep Yourself Full is a spiritual handbook that focuses on our return to self-love. It is a reminder that self-care nourishes the quality of our lives and makes us fit to be of service to others. Through my testimony, I give examples of how we self-abuse and how that differs from self-love, why it is essential not to take things so personally, why we must establish and enforce healthy boundaries, and how assumptions kill relationships. We learn that by investing in our well-being spiritually, physically, mentally, and professionally, we can be of service fully to others. It cannot be ignored that we treat others how we feel about ourselves. When we realize that what we do to others, we are equally doing to ourselves, we can use this awareness to heal. By treating ourselves better, we treat others better. Keep Yourself Full is about keeping ourselves filled with love and all that is good so that we are overflowing with enough to share with everyone else.
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Negroes are born
they are boys despite age
Negroes are sign language
using symbols to communicate
born without land
what King referred to as
they are sojourners
wandering from person to person
in search of themselves
Negroes are born
their umbilical cords
their screams muffled with injustice
their bodies sold
and bellies stuffed with lies
Negroes bleed death
and cannot recognize their own corpse.
But we are not Negroes.
We are soil and Earth
lips that sing
mouths and song and praise.
We are bodies and flesh
veins and blood and salt
We are salt
of the Earth.
We are crowns and rubies and pearls
eyes and nose
vision and smell.
We are scripture and fire
and dripping honey
We are blood, teeth, and bone
We are people
brave. proud. strong.
But we are not your
I want my truth
I want customs and traditions
without being conditioned
I want unconditioned
I want my stuff.
I want my Kings and Queens
my silver and my gold
I want my laws and commandments and my stories
I want do-overs
for how we’ve been done over
I want my children re-educated
Give me raised fists
and two-parent households.
I want functioning Black family units,
Afros, Black power, curly hair
and I want my cocoa butter skin.
I want credit for all my skills.
I want my midwives
I want my tribes
I want my inventions before you re-invented them.
I want Lewis Howard Latimer
not Thomas Edison.
I want my covenants renewed
I want my 40 acres and a mule.
I want my land rich as I left it
I want my spirituality accepted
I want my names changed back
I want my Proverbs and freedom songs
and I want my Moses Black.
I want what you stole from me
I want King Solomon Black and comely.
I want it all back.
I want my stuff.