Author Archives

Archive of the posts written by author : zaji.

the sea

the wait

it has always been about the wait. we stumble toward the grave  in a blinding fog pretending we can see. we wait for the end, living in the footnotes of our lives, the summary we try to pass off as story. but we…

black history month melancholy

Black (Brown) History Month is a sad time for me. I watch as people post a mere inch of who we are as brown people on Earth, leaving out the many miles of our existence. I read endlessly on my feed about our…

when i expire

When I expire, lungs emptied of air, heart still and unmoved, do not say I died or transitioned or passed away. Tell them that I left. I walked away from here. I packed light and went a travelin’, tiny knapsack stuffed round and…

spinning

She spin dark brown clay, forming body and mind into soul She spin her child into bird and lion and dolphin and mermaid She then place clay inside her womb and fire it into human, mixed with everything Earth and sky, gift wrapped…

joining the flock

In the summer of 1986 I joined the United States Army Reserve. I was 19 years old and had no inkling of the nature of my upcoming journey. I was young and naive with high expectations and childlike dreams.  I required money for…

in the small places

I’ve always felt that I, human, am frighteningly small and whatever this is that we exist within is big, bigger than anything I could describe with human words. Not even numbers, math, arithmetic can illustrate what this is in ways we can fathom.…

recycled soul

Come, let me recycle your soul. I will rinse it clean, sanitize it, then send it back to Earth. The sanitization process often erases all traces of memories. For some, however, a few latent memories of time spent here are retained, fully realized…

memories in a can

she was dying not from disease it was much more invasive than that there is no vaccine for pain no vaccine for the insecurity he bred inside her turning her into a genetic modification of her former self her soul is now broken…

under the baobab tree

she waited for herself at twilight under the baobab tree black skirt raised above knees red and gold painted bare feet on haunted ground spirit rising through ancient soil seeking lost self and awaiting life the agape dance gyrating for the coming moon…

yesterday’s words

there is a forgotten life inside this aging skin fragmented memories of an ancient epoch ancestral reinventions laced in lost stories our flesh matters less than the words we leave behind the lyrics endure; a griot’s invocation the deluge of stories return to…

unrehearsed

i will write for you i will live and die for you i will tell our story through song and verse through poetry that is unrehearsed      

my snow covered soul

The snow covered my soul just as much as it covered the porch. They both were cold, one to the touch, the other to the heart. I shoveled until my shoulders ached. But what could shovel my soul of the heavy cold weight…

the unseen spectrum

i am more than the words i speak or write. more than what you see. i am the unseen and unheard ends of the spectrum. i am the invisible that exists, not needing eyes or ears to simply be. i too require instruments…

the witch of the aegean sea

I want to tell you a story about a short stout woman who lived on the island of Lemnos in the Aegean Sea. She fished barefoot next to her shadow just before the sun found her copper face and presented her to the…

chrysalis

Chrysalis i wrap myself inside myself i grow i changei emergei fly

into my soul

I knew from the day I met you, that every inch of you would be carved into my soul. Writing Prompt: Carve

turn to stone

If I don’t begin posting to my blog daily, I will turn to stone. It’s true. I read it in a book.

marcus garvey’s house atop a hill

I had not been home to Jamaica in over a decade. In August 2015 I took a trip, and while there, visited Marcus Garvey’s house, which still stands atop a small hill, with the same ginep tree that was there when he was…

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