I am attempting to canvas the world with no passport/ in my future, there is a tongue that carries its anthem in a knapsack/ I am sitting atop its knees/ my chest adjacent to the ballad of his/ I learned the Pythagorean theorem by watching my heart prepare for three/ there is a boy on the other fringe of this town/ who loves falling in /love with me falling in /love with him falling /in love with...
she is an afro-bohemian butterfly: "Sisterhood" by... →
sheisanafrobohemianbutterfly: white sister told me all women are one united in de face of chau’vism. (paa’don my engilis) I smiled pa … paa pa . . tri . . archy is the cross women carry, she charged we must unite to fight it with all our might. I laughed … racked by spasm my head jerked back and crazily wobbled from side to side. pampered sister titillates herself to frenzy ...
seedlesschicken asked: Call me please.
joseliaunravels asked: Camonghne, young adult, cupcake enthusiast, baddest chick I know
aliceisdeadandgone-deactivated2 asked: Your poem made me cry. It's so beautiful, and so are you my dear. Thank you for writing it. Thank you for performing it. It has become an instant favorite and I hope that it would not offend you if sometime in the future I chose to showcase it. Which brings me to my next question, what is your name? And the name of the poem? So I can write it down and have it. And be able to tell everyone...
The mother leaves her body on either end of the bridge does not know which creek she crossed in order to have left it behind does not know who’s eyes to use does not remember the noise breaking steals does not remember to be gentle about it does not remember how to kneel below a sky without being swallowed does not remember her hands cannot use heart for...
12/30: “The Warrior Logs Stock of the Weak"
“Mothers can’t be good single parents, its impossible. Something will definitely go wrong.” - My sisters’ stepmother (paraphrased). The patient foot knows that it will never walk with dinosaurs. You are the foot, I am the fucking dinosaur. I am collecting you from the knee of the road with my teeth - a cornucopia of stale fruit - I fully intend to waste you. I am...
I Don't Really Think About This Part Of The Story...
But I’m starting to realize how frustrated I’m becoming with the lack of black women in television. Girlfriends is monumental to black women/black girls because it analyzed a reality most similar to black cultures. This is not to say that Girlfriends is always an accurate representation of all black women - but when there are faces that resemble yours, it makes relating a lot easier....
Cleopatra VII (9/30)
Perhaps there are many spells of darkness Perhaps I am the hand which borrowed the last Perhaps I hailed The Isis from her annex Perhaps she stole into my body and made feast there Perhaps I loved an adolescent moon Perhaps it dimmed after Perhaps I am the apple of the blasphemous mouth Perhaps the obscenity from the jowls of a fallen god Perhaps my belly as the sole stretch of sky Perhaps my...
To My Baby Jewssss
Who remembers going to school with ziplock bags of crushed matza and having to begrudgingly explain it to your class like show & tell? *Raises hand slowly*
On weekends, the D train crickets through the tunnels in its own, patient revere. I stand, shuffling my heavy from foot to foot. I hate waiting for trains. I can urge it to hurry-up but can never expect it to give a fuck about that. The rats are quartering their meal, jerking their heady heads at the Styrofoam from the block chicken spot. I remind myself that beauty is a mirage we all...
I messed this up all crazy, but I was inspired by Bey today. This is my 5/30.
Its 9 PM, on the spot. If I were a measure of anything right now It would be a trail of garment from the pastor’s pocket on its way to the bottom of the baptizing basin. I wanna have a few conversations: One, with the entity who decided on bringing me here. You got a guide? Where’s the sojourner’s map, the flint for the wick, the road, even? Do you not see how small I am? ...
The Years the Locusts Have Eaten: 2/30
1998 I am still mainly a strange thinking one, with large eyes of other and no bark. I am caught touching another girl in the bathroom stall furthest from the slop sink that had yet reached my waist, I am too young a sorcerous - they are confused. I am asked to sketch a picture of where it had first tickled me, of where I had come to know too much. 2000 The middle miracle...
Anonymous asked: I respect u so much. It's surreal to me how you've been able to help me n have an positive impact on me without actually doing somthing specifically for me. I'm am grateful.
Anonymous asked: Tell me a story bout your best friend
Come celebrate /with me that everyday /something has tried to kill me /and has...– Lucille Clifton
Slipping Through the Noose (1/30)
The body is blue jay with Phoenix heart/ The body has lit into itself with big, arching flame/ The body branches forward to suspend itself/ The body is in constant/ conversation with gravity/ If it were not an instrument of/ shadow, if it did not spell under the/ bulb, if it did not burn so expertly/ who would claim it? This is what I have learned of survival: You were spoken here by the divine...