a poet’s jealousy

Elizabeth Catlett and Mickalene Thomas are two artists, both women, both black. Their paintings speak to me. For me they link the struggles made and overcome by generations of black women.  It’s striking to me that the eyes of the women in each of the paintings shown here the subject’s eyes share the same weariness and expectation though the settings and timeline are radically different. It leads me to wonder if progress is really progressing. 

a memory: untitled

are you sisters dancers, an innocent enough inquiry and had we the decency of dancers we may have left him his dignity in response indecency, however, is the occupation of poets so we in synchronized sonnet pounced dripping iambic pentameter across his abdomen like a procession of candle wax our minds weapons of mass destruction…

for my sistren, a poem

we were magnificence woman warriors armed with words piercing souls healing our own babes in tow men in awe imperfect with our flaws spewing necessary vulnerabilities a revolution in our bosom nectar sipping goddesses shat stereotypes spake stories over rip whiskey and dangling cigars sisters in arms poets, we are.  

s.a.d. follows valentine’s (even the calendar is sarcastic)

twilight-isms have yielded a world where love hurts and behind every corner there is a would be billionaire vampire waiting to sweep you off your feet and carry you into his dungeon of kink-dom making your every wish come true so fire up pinterest and get your wedding dress on while tagging your boards with…

nerd girl pep talk (the word is courage)

someone once called me a jackie of all trades. i thought it was a compliment until i began to overanalyze (a past-time of mine) the sentiment. in my life i’ve had opportunity to do many things. i’ve studied abroad, self published books, consulted with major industry and lead. there are a lot of things that…

alright (reprinted in memorial of Glenn E. Williams, I)

today is the 63rd anniversary of my father’s birth. tonight i re-publish this work in his memory. it was originally published in my chapbook my grandmother’s posture in 1996. alright sometimes when I’m alone i hear your voice my tears turn  temporarily to laughter sorrows, i forget sometimes, when the only company available are the…

free. woman. standing.

  When I was 25 I took on a mantra that at the time I thought would heal me, everywhere I went I posted it: fear, it is the only enemy with love I will defeat it I even considered getting a tattoo of it. 12 months ago I admitted to myself after committing to…

a 21 day deadline to…next

i am 21 days shy of my 98 day goal. sitting here writing i’m not sure how i feel about that, these evening works have brought a structure to my day that i frankly lacked before. its allowed me to have conversations before impossible. to excise and share works previously housed in my head. i’ve…

truth, a work in progress

the stuff of revolution of evolutions Love   Love turns a weakness in on itself Love an impulsion‘s magnitude resulting in the formation of galaxies anew   Love omniscience Love connects us each to the other   Love power bringing forth itself igniting Love causing your soul to come aflame   make Love not a…