I'm salty (originally penned March 7, 2016)

I'm salty

I'm tears

I'm pain

I'm hurt

No apology

He's wrong

She's wrong

They lied

They cried

Nobody tried

To fix

No apology

Its over

No apology

I'm tears

I'm pain

I'm salty

Now lonely...

I am undaunted (originally penned March 28, 2016)

I glitter

I glint

I glisten

I gleam

I twinkle

I flash

I shimmer

I shine

I wink and I sparkle

I flicker and glow

I'm ablaze

I am brilliance, undaunted

Same Chase

George Floyd
Breonna Taylor
Elijah McClain
Philando Castile
Michael Brown
Terence Crutcher
Eric Garner
Alton Sterling
Oscar Grant
Freddie Gray
Botham Jean
Atatiana Jefferson
Bettie Jones
Ahmaud Arbery
Laquan McDonald
Tamir Rice
Dominique White
Rayshard Brooks
Daniel Prude
Aura Rosser
Stephon Clark
Michelle Cusseaux
Janisha Fonville
Akai Gurley
Gabriella Nevarez
Tanisha Anderson
Sandra Bland

Roger Fortson

America,
their blood,
and the blood
of so many others,
is on your hands.
You refuse
to prosecute
their murderers
to the fullest extent
of the very law
which they pledged
to enforce
by protecting and serving.
But we cry out,
"Protecting
and serving who?????"
Not us.
Not the ones
who are
still being
whipped
by bullets,
and hung
by chokeholds.
Sirens
have replaced the hounds,
and badges
have replaced hoods,
but its still
the same chase.
Tweets
have replaced
burning crosses
It's still
the same chase

monotony road (penned July 3, 2015)

You're calling me

Again

Black white black white

Broken

Yellow

Solid

Green patches

Tall, swaying

Short, patchy

Pylon pylon

Signs, directions

Fences, divisions

Black white black white

Rumble rumble

Ooooh water

Break the monotony

Car truck van

Black white...

Yellow...

New Jersey Turnpike

Don't call again

Boring...

what would GOD see (penned July 3, 2015)

If God walked up to me right now, and tapped me on the shoulder, what would He see?

Would He see His reflection? Or just scars and rejection?

Would He see the gold that He's placed deep within?

Or, would He just hear excuses for my many ways to sin?

Would he point out the ways I whined when I felt

He just didn't hear me when I cried out for help?

Would he just stand there watching, shaking His head

As I made more excuses for staying in bed.

No, He's not like that; He's gentle, He's kind,

Yes, He will forgive, but these faults, He does mind.

Can't take Him for granted, He will stand as Judge,

From these stubborn insanities, I will have to budge.

For on the last day, I'll still have to bow,

Believer or not, I'm telling you now,

This life that I'm living, may not be perfected,

But I'm striving so that I will hear that I won't be rejected.

I want to hear from His lips, "My servant, well done,

The battle is over, the victory is won!"

But for now what I have to do is get out of bed,

'Cause this life that I'm living, still has to be led...

It's so expensive to be Black in America

The luxury ferry from Africa to America

Cost our freedom

But any objection

Cost our lives

Working on those beautiful plantations

Cost our voices

But any objection

Cost our lives

Sharecropping in the open air

Cost our financial foundation

But any objection

Cost our lives

Worshipping in the warm balconies

Cost our religious freedom

But any objection

Cost our lives

Riding in the cool back of the buses

Cost our dignity

But any objection

Cost our lives

ANY objection

Costs our lives

Running with headphones

Death sentence

Reading in a car

Death sentence

Sitting on your porch

Death sentence

Sleeping in your bed

Death sentence

Selling CD's

Death sentence

Selling cigarettes

Death sentence

Comforting a friend

Death sentence

Buying Skittles

Death sentence

Walking while Black

Talking while Black

Dancing while Black

Singing while Black

Jogging while Black

Driving while Black

Playing while Black

Studying while Black

Meeting while Black

Eating while Black

Trying while Black

Crying while Black

Death sentence

Death sentence

Death sentence

Death sentence

Shotguns

Ropes

Batons

Knees

We can't breathe

But asked to pay more

With life

And breath

And blood

And pain

And wails

And cries

And tears

And anguish

And injustice

And intolerance

And bias

And profiling

As indignity

After indignity

Is poured over our heads

And runs into our eyes

And seeps into our hearts

And stains our souls

As heads explode into rage

As eyes erupt into hate

As hearts explode into venom

As souls explode into violence

The cost keeps growing

As more lives are claimed

In the name of justice

That we were told

Was ours to begin with

But have to pay

For the right

To earn the right

To live it

The cost is too high

Asked of pockets

Already devoid

Of any more funds

Of hearts and souls

Already bankrupt

Of minds and spirits

Bone dry

It costs too much

To be Black in America

It's too expensive 

To be Black in America

But where can we go?

This is our home!

This is what was built

By our very own hands

On the broken backs 

Of our forebears

Mortared with the blood

Of our martyrs

And cemented together

By what we've overcome

The cost is high

But the value incalculable

Expensive, yet priceless

Tangible, but just out of reach

Reaching all the way back

To the mothers and fathers

Who sat on those shores

And wailed as their children

Departed in ships

For shores unknown

Who paid in despair

Who never forgot

We rise in payment

In retribution

In vengeance

In rage

Not backing down

But demanding to be heard

To be reimbursed

For our expenses

The Psalmist 6-14-20

#icantbreathe

i can't breathe

my life is being choked out

i can't breathe

the noose of society tightens

i can't breathe

i want to go running but 

i can't breathe

i want to sit in my car and read but

i can't breathe

i want to make a living but

i can't breathe

i want to sing, and dance and enjoy life but

i can't breathe

they laughed as they pursued me so

i can't breathe

i just gave birth to a black son, Oh God!

i can't breathe

i want to take a walk to clear my head but

i can't breathe

im told i can't get angry because 

i can't breathe

i pull at the shackles around my protest because

i can't breathe

they fired tear gas at me, so now

i can't breathe

Lord, what am i to do, Lord what am i to do,

i can't breathe!!!

my heart is breaking because

i can't breathe

i can't breathe

i can't breathe

i can't breathe

What happened to my dreams?

I feel the need to go off by myself sometimes
And dream
To be somewhere else
Where no one is
But me
To think thoughts not normally normal
To dream dreams too big for reality
To fan flames inextinguishable
I want to skip through moons
And dance through galaxies
I want to swim with trees
And climb into atoms
I'd like to fly with stones
And run with sand
I want my mind to be as free
As it was when I was a child
When it had no limits

#BlackLivesMatter

I know you feel uncomfortable when you hear #blacklivesmatter
But imagine how we feel when we're told we don't
We're constantly told we don't matter
By the news
By clothing designers
By awards shows
By historical documents
By the movie industry
By advertisements
By employers
By realtors
By law enforcement
Yet you want us to be quiet
And not react
As we are being led like sheep to slaughter
Yet you want a stiff upper lip
As we watch senseless brutality
Against our people
Yet you want us to stand idly by
As we clean up yet another bloodstain
Yes, all lives matter
But we need you to get off our backs
Remove the shackles from our feet
Take the nooses from around our necks
And acknowledge that #blacklivesmatter just as much!

From the ground up

From the ground up...
(penned February 10, 2017)

I am so a part of God
And He is so a part of me
We cannot be separated
Even Paul said
Neither death nor life
Nor height nor depth
Shall separate me
From God's Love,
And because God is Love
I cannot be separated from Him.


He built me from the ground up
He took dust
And in the loving loom of His Fingers
Knit a suit and formed me.


To be sure it was the perfect fit,
He breathed His own breath into me
To make sure every nook and cranny
Was filled
Fully filling me
With
His
Own
Self.


Because I am bone of His Bone
I cannot be broken,
Except by Him.
And should He need to do so
He is the Healer and the Potter
To bring me back to wholeness.


I am flesh of His Flesh
Born to greatness
A child of the King
Supreme DNA
Is my makeup
I am made from the strongest stuff.


I am the apple of His Eye
He leans to hear my call
I am embedded in His Heart
Placed squarely in His Palm
Under His constant gaze


I receive a daily infusion of grace
As I am washed in the water of His Word.
His angels encamp around me
And goodness and mercy are my cleanup crew.

I am, after all, His Workmanship,
The chick to His Hen,
The clay to His Potter.
Why wouldn't He take such care?
He built me from the ground up...

Proud to be me (penned Aug. 7, 2016)

Proud to be
The woman I am
Proud to wear
The skin I'm in
Proud to go
Against the grain
Proud to never
Quite fit in!

I like me!
I love me!
I'm proud to be
So much like me!

Hormonal Rain

(originally penned July 29, 2016)

Yesterday's rain
Jumpstarted the river
Into puberty
Because it was swollen
And overstepped its bounds!

She grew tired (originally penned December 10, 2016)

She grew tired
Tired of waiting
Waiting for the wrong one
One who wasn't right
Wasn't right for her
For her self esteem
For her peace of mind
For her ambitions
For her life

She grew tired
Tired of waiting
Waiting for her life to begin
To begin with him
With him always away
With him always out
With him always misbehaving
With him always doing wrong

She grew tired
Tired of waiting...

So she began packing
Packing her pride
Packing her joy
Packing her faithfulness
Packing her love

She packed it all up
And wrapped it
In her self worth
When she found
She was worthless to him

She grew tired
So she packed up
And left
Left him
Left him wondering
Wondering why
Why was she upset
When all he was being
Was himself

He made no pretenses
He made no promises
He gave no false hopes
He gave no illusions

But she saw
With hopeless hopefulness
What she wanted
Wanted him to be
Even though he told her
"I can only be me."

She had given herself
To hopelessness
Hoping against hope
Hopeful, yet hopeless
She knew in her heart
That he was not
Not right for her
For her hopes were too high
And he made no effort
To reach them

So she's packed up her hope
What little there is
Pasted on a smile
And went to face life
Again

Stand out!

If God lead you to color outside the lines,
No matter how painful it may seem,
Don't try to fit in!
Those are not your boundaries!


You are not meant to blend in!
You are too fabulous to blend in!
The lines that society has drawn
Are not your lines.
Your lines lie elsewhere.


You are not meant to fit in.
You are not meant to blend in.


You are meant to go against the grain.
You are meant to swim against the tide. 
You are meant to march to the beat of your own drummer.
You are MEANT to be different.


Start your own band!
Write your own song!
Dance to your own rhythm! 
Croon to your own tune!
Revel in your difference!
In other words,
STAND OUT!

This Feeling (My reaction to seeing "The Birth of a Nation" on October 7, 2016)

I wish I could
Convey to you
The profundity
Of this feeling
I'm feeling.


I'd like your help

To define this new emotion

I'm experiencing.

I just saw "The Birth of a Nation,"

and yes,

my initial responses
were profound sadness

and rage.  

But,

like perfume,

the initial reaction
has now passed,

and the deeper, more lasting effect
remains.

I feel a form of contempt

and familiarity,

a renewed sense of self worth

and purpose,

an underlying pity and shame,

and yet a powerful hopefulness

riding on faith.

This movie

and it's accompanying effects and emotions,

is not for everyone,

for few will know

how to handle

the rush and multitude of the reactions

responsibly

I am unsure of where I fall.  

It comes at a time

when we

cannot cry "#blacklivesmatter" loudly enough,

yet we still receive resistance

and apathy,

pathetically enough,

sometimes from our own.

But what this movie

has helped me to recognize is

that with every battle,

there will always be

Benedict Arnold's and Judases,

willing and unwilling.  

I can no longer blame them.  

They,

like the countless Patty Hearsts among us,

have been brainwashed so completely

that they actually believe the filth

that their captors are spewing.  

I will leave them to their own paths,

and pray I am elsewhere

when they

experience their inevitable,

unenviable end.

But still,

I am left feeling this feeling

that am at a loss to define.

I want to do something,

but am at a loss as to what.

I have so much to do,

but am at a loss as to where to start.

I have so much to say,

but am at a loss as to how to convey the depth of it all.

I wish I could define this feeling...

Just stop

(penned June 14, 2016)

In the news I see
Churches becoming
Charnel houses
In the news I see
Rape charges becoming
Rampant injustices
In the news I see
Nightclubs becoming
Nazi death camps
In the news I see
Movie theaters becoming
Mass grave sites
In the news I see
Schoolyards becoming
Shooting galleries

STOP!

The hatred has to
STOP
The venom has to
STOP
The anguish has to
STOP
The vengeance has to
STOP

We want it to end
We feel the need
To hit someone
To hurt someone
But we have to be the ones
To STOP

We want vengeance
We want justice
We want retribution
But we have to
STOP

We have to take a minute
Unlike them
We have to pause
Unlike them
We have to bow
Unlike them
We have to
STOP

And remember
That God keeps better records
Than us
He says vengeance is His
He will repay

So if we
STOP
And let Him take over
Then we can
STOP
The hate
STOP
The violence
STOP
The anguish
STOP
The injustices

Just
STOP
please...

My Black Heart

My Black heart isn't broken
It's been stepped on
It's been stomped on
It's bled
It's been abused
It's stuttered
It's even stopped.
Sometimes it felt like
It had even been shattered.
But it's a strong heart
Because it still beats.
Trayvon, Emmitt, Sandra, Alton
My heart will beat for yours
Now stilled
I still hear your heartbeat
And mine
Will continue the rhythm
My heart isn't broken
It's been shattered
But it still beats
And will continue to beat
To the tune of justice
My heart isn't broken
It still works

Us or Them?

penned July 8, 2016 after the officers in Texas were gunned down

shots fired
is it us?
is it them?
blood spilled
is it ours?
is it theirs?
someone's dead
is it us?
is it them?
fatherless child
is it ours?
is it theirs?
outrage, retaliate
against us
against them
cycle of hate
against us
against them
someone stop
for us
for them
break the cycle
for us
for them
how?
with us
with them
EQUITY
with them
by us

Menopausal emotions

Sometimes I just wanna cry
And I don't even understand why
My emotions say to grab a hold
But I'm no longer in control
My heart, then my eyes start to leak
And I get so full that I can't speak
Something deep in me wells up and I...
Well, I can't explain, so I just start to cry


I can't explain, won't even try
This need sometimes that makes me cry
My heart just fills and tries to burst
Telling my mind it has a thirst
For a comfort that's not even there
Because all around are unaware
That this need in me to just release
Is at times the only way toward peace


I scream, I wail, I stomp, I shout
I bawl, I keen, I whine, I pout
I throw myself onto a bed
And pull the covers to my head
Throwing a tantrum is so exhausting
With no regard for the energies costing
Emotionally drained, I'm all wrung out
Okay for now, 'til the next bout.

Stood up

guess you got a better offer
you never showed
you didn't call
I'm left here hanging
wondering
was it something I said
was it something I did
was it something you saw
was it something you heard
was I not what you expected
were you overcome by disappointment
why am I upset
why am I hurt
when you were the one
who missed out
you forfeited greatness
for mediocre
you went for immediate
instead of long-term
you chose...
now live with
what could have been