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
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
Remembering Her Through Streams of Words I’ve always felt that I, human, am frighteningly small and whatever this is that we exist within is big,
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
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
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
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
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
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
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 want to tell you a story about a short stout woman who lived on the island of Lemnos in the Aegean Sea. She fished
Chrysalis i wrap myself inside myself i grow i changei emergei fly
I knew from the day I met you, that every inch of you would be carved into my soul. Writing Prompt: Carve
If I don’t begin posting to my blog daily, I will turn to stone. It’s true. I read it in a book.
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,
There are days like today when the living ain’t easy. I sit in the back of the store—breakroom slash stockroom—waiting for things I cannot name.
Your whispers reach me across time. They find me standing on the edge of awakening. My dreams leave, then your dreams ask to enter the
It snowed last night. This morning the sky was clear and the snow bright. While I do feel a sense of jolly when I look
I built a story that was tall and wide, stretching across miles of land like the Great Wall of China. I did not use brick
Mighty Voices Rise I don’t give two damns about “hate speech” against me, a brown woman. Not two. I have a mighty voice and know