Poetry
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Murder She Wrote
No, it wasn’t suicide the freedom in her chest the genuine in her throat and the explosion of awareness she didn’t try to hide packing a strap never hesitating to open fire leaving trails of Earthquakes lingering at your side pen to paper creating a new world of gun smoke white dope and fienes who… Continue reading
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Why I Write Black
Because flowers grow in strange places like tattered pieces of wood and recycled paper Because history is frost bitten and winter refuses to be comforted by the sun bluish-white and numbed pain cold skin and prickling feeling Because the sky don’t stay dark forever but light ain’t taught in history class Because… Continue reading
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I’ll Carry It With Me
From the bowels of the deep south To the place of the rising sun She’ll stretch her roots to the ends of the Earth And her scent to the universe edge From the Nile To the Euphrates Her soul is Langston And has grown deep like the rivers On her bark Are the names whipped… Continue reading
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Brown Skin
Mississippi lips Lousiana tongue West African shaped nose Skin kissed by the sun Israelite Culture American Captive Egyptian Color russet brown seal dark puce blue black eastern man blue black woman symbols of authority over her head natural beauty no longer dead hair like sisal rope braided coiled nappy strong prayer hands that crack open… Continue reading
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Her Skin
She has heard for too long now that her pores bleed the color of slave ships that chains have been seen in her smile that her skin shines like a beacon of shame sprinkled amidst Mississippi cotton fields sometimes her beauty sticks out like a diamond in the ruff they notice her and still she… Continue reading
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Writing 101: Assignment #3 – One Word Inspiration–Choice (a poem)
Created to choose good we traded our crown for the right to understand evil And stand now as soldiers in a time of war load me down with breastplates and helmets for we shackle ourselves to the decisions we make There are many paths before us, a starlight fantasy for our dreams a playground for… Continue reading
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I Promise You a Woman
I promise you a woman. You see I know what kind of girls you’re used to I know that little black girls can’t appreciate you like I can see I know that those little girls you’re used to doesn’t know what you’ve been through cause kindergarten fingers on small hands don’t know how to hold… Continue reading
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