Friday, June 20, 2014


His eyes reflected spring sunsets and rainbow filled skies
speaking Nile
breathing rivers
With each syllable he spoke
I saw life float from him
Our connection read pages of irony
unfit puzzle pieces
scrambled across many boards
He made me a fan geometry
intrigued by the congruency that respired between us
I anxiously wait to surf tomorrow
I know the waves won't be like today's

he was like winter wind
free flowing
yet invincible
and no winter coat
could protect me from his storm
and yet
I loved him


I am a writer
writing from my experience
turning autobiographies
into poetic lines
I spill from my pages
and watch my soul pour from me
I give life
to secrets buried
of worlds you keep
tucked in only to bring out
on the 10 news
I make contradictions of your headlines
color in rainbows
where you paint the blues
I'm a poet
who writes freely
Bringing pictures to life
through 1000 words
my spirit flies through the pages
I give you my truth
because it gives me peace

Momma's Eyes

Mumma/ Ma aaaaaaaaammmma/ Momma
Where is daddy/ I say where is Daddy
I seen him before
so I know I'm no bastard/said I know I'm no bastard
Where is daaaady
daaa dd y
where is that man I once saw in the pictures
Coming home after school, as I pretended to be
of of his, Sandra, Vanessa, Denise, and Rudy
wanting in my mind and heart, the love and support he gave and instilled
But I was young and Bill Cosby wasn't mine
Because he birthed me
I remember being eight years old
in the middle of Santa's workshop
urgently searching and smiling for the gift I thought would appeal to him most
(I always got tools/thought maybe they could help fix us)
rushing off the school bus and running past all the other kids
mamma opening the door to long breaths and anxious hands
to wrap his gift with the paper I begged momma to buy
Putting it under the tree and waking up to find it there the next morning
And the look on mamma's eyes comforted me
They were beautiful
I wonder how many times momma had to bat her eyes to make him fall
Like a falling dream/ shot from the star
or little six year old girl falling off her bike
left only to fall in mamma's arms/mama's eyes
thru her eyes, I saw the story of you/ I wuz able to know u
Her eyes were beautiful
like seeing me on Easter Day
from the lies u sold her and the y0uth you robbed her of
of bags, you left her to carry alone
dried up puddles that went thru longer water shortages than those in Atlanta
Because you chose to make habit and drank all her waters
leaving your empty bottles, to leave her empty without a tiny drop
When I was a little girl
I used to try to put band-aids on the scars you gave her
cutting fiercely into her soul
when the bleeding stopped
I would hide myself in the bathroom
and take pencils to erase my cheeks, dimples, freckles and ears
your cheeks, your dimples, your freckles and ears
and try to color mommas into mine
Momma was beautiful
She never told me your secrets/daddy
I saw them through mamma's eyes
and when I wuz good, she'd let me borrow them so that I could see clearer
Never could keep them on long enuf/ they were too heavy
and I wasn't strong enuf
Have you heard what they said about her
said she used to rule a million thrones
was Cleopatra's best friend
Showed Queen Sheba how to rule
Queen Elizabeth flew her in her advice
They said mamma created rhythms when she moved
needed shades to gaze at her beauty
and eyes put an end to the blues
But I guess that all ended daddy
when mommy fell for you
But I'm sure you thought this poem
was another, I'm so lost without you/can't manage/need you to know me
so that I can breathe in a society where I am suffocated into single mother
households boxes
from the ongoing epidemic of little boys pretending to be men
spreading seeds to birth Black nations
and fatherland becomes never never land
fatherhood becomes filled with fake imaginations
colored in with TV dads
And Father's day becomes just another day
See I saw you through momma's eyes
Peek a boo/ peek a boo
thank you momma


I want to write a poem that
from my ovaries
to my roots
and I want her to be natural
unlocked/ untwisted/ straightened
but not yet permed
I want her to be as powerful as hearing Amiri Baracka recite "Someone Blew Up America"
Causing all the white people to feel so comfortable that they walk out
"Because it wasn't the niggaz"
But let her be in the voice of a woman
strong/like Black single motherhood
causing you to sweat
and giving me blisters from walking down Harriet's railroad
Make it as pretttttiiiii/ as Dottie on Oscar night
a rebel to society/ let her get arrested
Making the FBI's top ten list and escaping jail to gain exile in Cuba
and name her/ ANGESSATA
I want this poem's ego to be so big soooooooooooo big
"that it bowels deliver uranium"
so hip/ so cool/so real cool
that it went to school and lived long like Melba Pattillo Beals
emotional/animated/Black woman real/ straightforward/aggressive
Sanchez's poetry
let her lines be like Josephine Baker and dance
off the paper in hopes of not being bound by the margins and lines within the page
black and white
give her heritage/culture/emotion/struggle
and feed her love
Speaking the shades of Shange's rainbow
Let her blueprint be the voices of those unheard
and unknown
Giving birth to Michelle's
tattooing her DNA in OBAMAs all over the world
But make it where this poem lives
Just like Tupac
and title her


I feel as if they think
we come equipped with
armored skin
and elastic stomachs
with all pain and bullshit
we're hit with and swallow
Or maybe Saturn's rings
circling him as if we were
created to fit his purpose
We love them so we do
and because we love them
we wear our capes and bullet proof vests
protecting them against tomorrow's detriments
and the fragmented fears that live on in his nightmares
causing his cold sweats
freezing the walls he chooses to place between us.
I blow him warm kisses
of my inner soul
hoping they will reflect
the depths of me
His electric waves have me sparked
and because I love him to the exponent of
Me power
I have this dire craving for his wholeness
and the tender pieces he's careful to expose
have imprisoned me
along with him
he won't even allow me to be his cell mate
I don't even know if we share the same prison.
You see with his pieces
I want to build diamond prisms
and present to him
But I can't because they are too heavy
The strength I once had before
I gave to him
trying to show him the stars


I wonder
if he thinks about me
Sees me when he's looking through her eyes
Hears my voice when she's calling his name
Feels guilty texting me
And she's beside him
To fill the void of my presence
I wonder does it kill his soul
for him to say good night
when his night is just beginning
while he's laying with her
my mind is constantly spinning
on a rampage, driving me insane
because I know him
and greedy
yet he says he loves me
I like to think that over them
he chooses me to be his queen
So I treat his dirt like gold, packing light
There's no room for two sets of bags
I wonder when he says he loves my smile
does he mean, he loves my pain
He's the cause of my sunshine
more so the cause of my rain
I've seen more floods than rainbows
I'm scared the man I love will freeze my heart cold
I cover myself for you
I cover my tears and draw in smiles
So that I can savor the good moments
And I want you to remember me for the person you love
Not the person you created
Each minute with you is like it's own separate poem
I could write a million poems about you
There aren't enough words
When I'm at my worst with you
I think some things are better left unstated


I told myself I was tired
of writing sad love poems
but my tears were suffocating my soul
my heart needed to breathe
I had to give her a couple of life lines
she was screaming so loud, she made my ears bleed
Listening to her meant facing reality
I am tired of singing sad love songs
and feeling sorry for myself
for doing nothing and everything wrong
Fuck it
Yes, judge
arrest me
been loving wrong for too long
Men don't come with signs
telling whether they are equipped to love
If they did
I swear I'd place the highest bid
Love is already a gamble
And if I'm going to spend my love
I'd rather do it wisely and know what I'm going to get
Hearts don't come with receipts
Yes I can exchange him
But let the statistics tell it
he will just be a repeat of all the ones
I've loved before
With all the lies and dreams I've been sold
If I was to become a man tomorrow
I could be the Man of Forever
Could get, keep, and flip any
Or maybe I should just bleach my skin
and dye my hair blond
didn't know that taking our men's hand in marriage
was what they meant by they're the ones who have more fun
Although they spend millions
to have our lips, thighs, and ass
we're the white woman's trend
But the Black men seem to pass
In all honesty I just want a REAL BLACK MAN
who means what he says, loves me and has my back
Wanting that is like believing in fairy tales
And my mom didn't name me
Cinderella, Sleepy Beauty, or Ariel
Where love ends, is where my story begins
I said I was done writing sad love poems
But my heart needed to breathe
So I gave her a couple of life lines
Keeping this inside
Was like internal suicide
My love for myself and writing is too great for that
for they are the only love
that have ever stayed with me