Posted in Uncategorized


​The body tends to hold onto what is no longer needed.
We nurse ailing organs
In the hopes of resurrecting their function.
The tongue is a beached whale 
Until I love yous slither to shore
Tide recedes taking with it
All the filth and lies once more.
My first line of defense infected and useless
These tonsils wish I’d sterilize my words
And give myself to others less.
Use it or lose it
Wisdom teeth rip through the soil in my mouth
Pain removes my ability to speak
The way you used to do with your sword like speech.
They say vestigial organs have no true function
Outside of history and evolution.
I say they function as reminders
That aching creeps into our bones without warning
Invited by broken truths.
I don’t love you but you take the pain away
I don’t love you but you resurrect my ability to function.
Remind me that I’m not so useless until I believe it is the truth.
Love is not an excuse to pass on your ailing organs
It is not your first line of defense 
Or a place to bury beached whales as you attempt to discard their carcasses.
Love is a vestigial organ we are still learning how to use.
And I’m not sure if some of us deserve to know its function.

Posted in Poetry


​I wish I could take your laughter and harvest it into melodies. 

Carry your voice to the most desolate parts of the globe and watch new life arise from the ashes.

Oceans spill onto the shore masked in your words

And I am a mere sandcastle 

You wash away what was already perfected challenging me to create something lasting.

Our love could be stained glass chapel

Everything that is to be worshipped coming together 

Every time we cum together in mosaic fashion.

Our bodies are the arteries and veins of this mattress 

Each pulse of yearning keeps it alive

Senses blur in alternate reality.

I taste the scent of your perfume mixing with flesh

My back is living scratch off and you’re only in the mood to play until victory rests beneath your fingernails.
Your skin, the color of soil after the rainfall

Is uncovered canvas.

Vines unravel themselves from your navel

What wonderfully crafted masterpiece must be your womb

I’ve already named 3 new beginnings without your knowledge 

For that, I apologize.

I would never leave my last name in uninvited spaces 

Each time I catch your gaze between subtleties 

I’m hoping you invite me to the party.
Your mind is drifting archipelago.

An entire world threatening to engulf unhinged pieces.

I often wonder what language you dream in.

If you see black and white where others see color 

Or maybe various shades of gray.

I speak only one language fluently 

But I’ve studied nonverbal communication for a lifetime.

Your eyes search the floor for control that is lost in your inexplicable happiness.

When a riotous laughter tries escaping your lips your head tilts slightly to one side

Shake your head and sometimes cover heaven’s gateway with your palm

Your gait is confident although your head succumbs to gravity in sadness and disappointment 

You eat like tomorrow’s meal may never come

I chuckle inside at this…but I understand.

The part of my soul longing for companion survived countless winters of starvation without you.

One never knows when their physical body will be called home..

So tonight, after you have buried the day’s troubles in my eardrums

We will build a house of worship using only two bodies

Passion is a universal language 

Only praise dance we need, your temple in sync with me

You sing my favorite hymn 

I whisper the words along.

I am a sandcastle 

And my mouth is starving for a baptism.

Posted in Poetry

The Lost Ones

I look around at my generation and I’m terrified.
Galaxies lacking a labor of cosmic love
Anchors sinking the ships of ourselves into solitude
Such holy vessels lost among the clouds
Worries submerge like submarines
Purging the deepest depths of our demise The pit of your stomach is a war zone
Always determined to battle alone

The drugs become band aids
Temporarily concealing your scars
But you can’t quite cover them all.
We’re never quite high enough
To escape the fall.
Never quite drunk enough
To drown the inner demons
Never quite sober enough
To discover life’s meaning.
When the dust settles,
They’ll challenge you to an arm wrestling match for your soul.
I beg of you; carefully prepare for the attack
Even on the days you may lose..
Arise and challenge them for it back.

Posted in Poetry


I never thought I’d be ungrateful for weight dropping from my chest
Until it began disappearing from everywhere.
The light in my eyes dips itself into stardust
That I snort from the same table I skip meals on.
Stopped looking to the sky for answers
When I started stumbling on clouds
The blue wings on my back are as fragile as glass silhouettes
Everyone in the room is throwing stones
And I’m too high to be recognized at home.

I tell the world I’m fine
With all these lies escaping my lips
Alcohol stained memories dance across my hips
My ribs cage secrets I forget in sobriety
But when your skin starts to crawl and you need that next fix
You’ll do damn near anything to secure it.

The bottle was my best friend on the days death wasn’t close enough
When the grim reaper teased my soul
Into believing tonight would be the last in this living hell
Only to awaken once more in this prison cell.
What’s a nightmare with no inner demons
And what’s an inner demon to someone who’s feenin’?
You can swallow your pride in pills
Close your eyes and imagine what’s real
When you awaken hell will still reside in your veins
Lucifer will still slit your wrist
When you’re sure you can’t do it again.

So when I say I feel a weight lifted off my chest
Be sure you take time and ask me about the rest
If my core still shakes in my sheets at night
If I’m able to sustain sanity without taking flight.
I never thought I’d be suspended in addiction
But I guess we’re all searching for something that’s missing.

Posted in Uncategorized

Sarah and Jane (For Erykah Badu and Janelle Monáe)

Let us rejoice in music on this morning
Let us lay down our buried sorrow in mourning.
And listen to the black girl heart hymn.

The beat drops,
On and on with such ease
This melodic beauty wrapped in a nonchalant elegance
Teaching me to pack this baggage lightly
Carry with me only what is needed to evolve
I’ve spent everyday since in a constant revolution of revelations.
Appreciating them all.

Stepping onto the scene every bit of fierce.
I used to consume my brain with your lyrics and wisdom
Used to consume my head wrapping towels around my cranium to be you.
Taught me to unlearn fear and live outside of myself.
To sit under orange moons with my tea and honey
Becoming a song lyric not yet written.

Let us rejoice in music on this morning
Let us lay down our buried sorrow in mourning.
And listen to the black girl heart hymn.

Always walked a tightrope with my depression
A tip toe of Tangos trying tremendously to trap my being.
Flash to the television screen a woman dressed in black and white.
Nothing drab or ordinary about this sound
It pounds my eardrums and fills everything around.

Whether I’m high or low
I’m inspired by your courageous answering of a calling
Using your voice to scream for those who may only know whispers.
Say her name, sing it and say it once more
Smash down stereotypical boxes and windows
Create your own when there is no open door.
Janelle you are a firefly flickering in my heart of hope
A model for every little black girl in need of a fairy godmother.

I too am an artist
And I’m sensitive about my shit.
This melanin contains my roots
And never again will I make the mistake
Of apologizing for it.

Let us rejoice in music on this morning
Let us lay down our buried sorrow in mourning.
And listen to the black girl heart hymn.
And for the people in the back yet untouched..
Give us an encore Sarah and Jane.
Change the music and the world. Observe.
Then change it again.

Posted in Poetry


I will love the things about you
That you may hate the most.
Remember the fractional details
Others don’t care to know.
The way laughter creeps upon your face
Music holds you in the warmest embrace.
I’d like to capture your essence
To illuminate the darkness in the absence of your presence.

7 billion smiles
And yours is the only one
That brings me to life.
Northern lights gleaming in your irises
Precious stones captive in your eyes.
Diamonds in your teeth
There’s only perfection when you smile.
So when you say,
The magic in the curves of your lips
Actually doesn’t exist
I wish I could give you my eyes
Maybe you could see the truth through different lenses.
Or at least understand my adoration for mine.

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized

Joy (Part Two)

This is not another poem about pain
Not another poem about sacrificing your own flesh
Making an offering to the universe for a sanity you have grappled with.
This is a poem about the morning after
The days my divinity meets bone and muscle
The two coordinate a masterful dance in my honor
Springs in my heels are well oiled and rhythmic
Enchanting enough to entice the rest of me into motion
Not another two step to my favorite song but a joyous roar.

A celebration of rainclouds shifted into Houdini like figures
Your days are a balancing act of everything you can juggle
Muster up the energy for each conquest
Taking sail on the ship of yourself, you are holy vessel.
Though the shackles around your ankles have long been removed
You may feel the prickling nerve damage they have already caused.
But when the rain falls in the shape of flat ovals instead of imagined teardrops
You will have no choice but to step outside of your own Tango.
Happiness is knowing you woke up today
Even to gray skies.
With your soul unbound and nothing keeping your body here on Earth
but gravity and your mind.
Joy is the feeling of the rain though cold and unrelenting
You are still here. All skin and soul.
Laugh just to feel the vibrations rising up
Bask in the human earthquake you are.

There will always be days when the space
between Earth and your personal heaven are light years away.
But you must keep running.
The finish line awaits you with every evolution of your spirit.
Ella Fitzgerald, Nina Simone and Billie Holiday are writing a song
It begins and ends with your name.
Your joy is a mountain and you need only to ascend.
The choice is yours, how and when.

Posted in Poetry

Free write (Joy Part 1)

Right now, there are upwards of 7.4 billion people living and dying all at once
Somewhere, someone is watching the greatest lover they have ever known drift into a sunset that won’t turn into a sunrise by morning.
Their mourning will turn into grief and forgetfulness.
The way I used to shift these holes in me into a holiness of sadness.
Forgetting the sun was still the sun
My joy, though be it morphed was still my joy.
Right, now there are upwards of 7.4 billion people living and dying all at once
And I have been afraid of doing more than existing.
But like the planets, luckily we are right where we are supposed to be.
Aligned even in the darkest of days when humanity is not humane.
The universe makes no mistakes in its teachings.
And this is lesson I am still learning.

Posted in Poetry

For Ava (For Ava DuVernay)

When art imitates life I see an Ava DuVernay film.
Everything will carry sanctity and meaning.
The opening credits are drumbeats to the tunes of souls.
Actresses do not act for they are living these roles.
Production cues the beginning of creating
A definite vision embodied in genius.
A genesis of storytelling in every scene.
Not only to give voice but speak who we be.
And in the background Janelle Monae sings a black girl hymn.
Simple and melodic intros disperse in waves of chaos
The most beautiful symphony orchestrated of gain and loss.

This film will be for the brown girl on the playground
With moonlight in her smile
And midnight in her skin.
She will embrace the holiness of gems in her eyes
For every Lucy who walked before her
Even when they saw no diamonds in her skies.

This film is for the little girls
Who have never shaken hands with Jim Crow
But see the trickle down effects in the faces
Of every black woman she may know.

This film is for the little girls
With dreams engulfing them
Between storybooks, naptime and a rerun of Brandy as Cinderella.
Whitney Houston her fairy godmother
Renewing the fairytale and belief in happy endings.

When life imitates art I see an Ava DuVernay film.
The Door opens to sisterhood
Exemplifying a bond without bondage
From 400 years of dying we give life
Let the blood run deep like still waters
Fill the veins with Jasper whispers
Riddle the flesh with Obsidian roots.
Take root and plant words in these bones.
Grow upright with a straightened spine
And everyone will sing a black girl’s song
Learn her truth in rhythm and rhyme.
How Amazing Grace was and is
When Nina Simone’s blackbird flies in the distance.

You could write a script with no consonants
And I would spend time deciphering the vowels.
Annihilating any angst against avoidance
Empowering enclaves entering external endangerment
Instantly initiating interest into inspiration
Overcoming overwhelming obstacles ostentatiously
Unhinge unjust underbellies until understanding undermines useless utterances.

When art becomes life and life becomes art
I see an Ava DuVernay film
Where I can speak to the characters
As they encompass my journey
There are no bounds to what may be seen
What is given breath has never ceased to exist.

You breathe life into art again
Renew the anxious poet in me to scribble a line
Move the frozen pen of passion
And release what heavens I have salvaged from the hellish days.
So when my daydreams dare to direct the film of life
I see you there,
A nest of hurried Sundays finding forgiveness in procrastination.
Telling the story, telling your story
And never letting the blackened silence tell it for you.

Posted in Poetry

Running With No End

Who taught you to stop running so young?
Turned your Nike kicks into stilts
You are more balancing act than attraction.
How have you managed becoming complete circus?
My depression is the elephant in the room that won’t stop screaming.
Sometimes my depression is unwanted house guest.
Such a magnificent artist, an actress of sorts.
Performing sorcery and wizardry of words.
Stringing symphonies together of truths unheard.
Fearing nothing in the unknown
No escape between this zone and home.
My schizophrenia is a poem with no words.
It is the most beautiful art no one has ever seen or heard.
But miles away there is a stone heart where I find amazement in the moments of silence
I’ve never been so content with uncertainty.
A hopeless plea with the universe to align stars
Planetary perfection in a world that is always flawed.
There are more words in this brain than storms
Beginning and begging to redefine norms.
But hope…you are never wrong to carry hope.
Even when you are forced to carry it alone.
You are battleship and you will fight..
Fight until every day and every night your victory in your happiness.. is won.