spoken word
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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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The Written / Spoken Word
OK, so you’re sitting down somewhere and you decide to read a book. Everything is going well and you’re sure that if given the chance you’ll win “The Best Reader Ever” award. You sit there and you think to yourself: “Wow, I am such a great reader!” All smiles as you professionally turn the pages.… Continue reading
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Dear Hip Hop…
Who Willie Lynched your mentality? Who put you under a spell? Why you let them teleport you back to slavery? They could have at least made it look good didn’t have to hang you on the block in your own hood from your own trees could have bridged the gap between the souls you “sold”… Continue reading
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We Trust
Born into the ticking clock of innocence a hurrying forth of second hands to match the inhale and exhale of lung we sing truth against the fragile voice of newness and taste of the refreshing sound of belief Trust it is the automatic gift life births us with against the cold relentless winds of the… Continue reading
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I Wonder
I wonder what would happen if I threw my pen into yesterday let it scribble up the past and teleport those memories to the edge of my fingertips If I splashed this page with infinity so that you remember forever where you came from. Or what if I just thought about it wirelessly sent messages… Continue reading
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Mama Put a Curse on Me, by Stella May
Mama put a curse on me When she gave me that name Attaching history to my skin When she knew it had stains on it Though her eyes were green She acted like her skin was brown And teleported her daughter back to slavery What kind of name is Stella anyway? It don’t hardly go… Continue reading
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Those Who Love
It’s their presence alone that lifts the floor and commands the clouds to unclench their fist cause love wraps its garment around their bodies like insane prisoners to compassion confined and restricted to the affection that binds them stitched and knitted like a fresh garment, like fresh skin to the beautiful body of genuine call… Continue reading
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