When all is said and done, we are all rendered mute. Death does not care about our feelings nor opinions about our political leanings, religious
I keep getting death threats from my cells. They’ve warned me that if I keep up this mess about growing my hair without locs, they’ll
Burn with anger, woman. Your fire voice was temporarily extinguished with water, but you did not let it drown you. You turned everything that touched you to steam. The destroyers dissipated into the air, mixed in with the ancestors who lost their way and told un-truths about the place of woman. They now mourn their…
My mind grows, inch by inch, into a place where all of nature exists and evolves.
we are here to see the impossible sometimes through the night other times through the rain we must see inside self see inside the places
Last semester. I need to get through this. Can’t let illness stop me. Whatever lives, breathes, thinks, intervenes, loves, sees…. …ancestors, alien overlords, yoruba deities,
There is nothing here. Only waves of memories folding over unrelenting experiences. I will no longer question my thoughts, but instead, carve question marks into
I live inside this skin of flesh, blood and bone. I am fragile life dreaming of infinity. Threads of memories stitch themselves to the stars.
I’ve been away for the last two weeks. My vow to write daily has been broken by debilitating illness. You see, I was poisoned by
I am lost in thoughts that I do not own.
I am halfheartedly searching for a road back to Earth. The other half of my heart seeks a quiet world.
Writing Prompt: Whisper Write a new post in response to today’s one-word prompt. Most of what I write is an experiment where I allow words
The poem below by Frost is the life I’ve always lived, the road less traveled. It keeps me sane, even as it sometimes leaves me
I won’t be saved by you. Only the sky can save me from this blue world wondering how it came to be.
I read this piece by Yeats recently and it struck a cord. The Lake Isle of Innisfree W. B. Yeats, 1865 – 1939 I will
Someone called me today, a loved one. She said she was lonely. But I am too far away to just show up on her doorstep and take her out so we can run the streets like school girls. I could hear it in her voice, the loneliness she tried to conceal behind laughter as she…
The days meld into each other. Each one a link in a chain. The chain slowly reaching into the distance. This is our lives, each
Photograph by zaji This was the sky over my house yesterday. Such a beautiful sight. The sky is a constant reminder of my mortality. When
Every now and then a bit of beauty falls onto my lap and reminds me that there just might be a pinhole of hope for
Photographer Unknown It was the mid 80s. I was 18 years old. I was working at a local video store renting out videos for a Prince height Italian man whose accent betrayed his birthplace, which was clearly not Italy. He was a Bronx born Italian, who mixed Americanized Italian with yiddish insults. When I didn’t…