For everyone who has served, with gratitude and thanks.


Freedom isn’t always free.
It depends on the brave and honorable.
Those gifted to serve, protect and defend.
Who watch over us not just in peace
But always.
This is a gift and a treasure.
Which is why we should cherish it
And those who work so diligently to
Ensure that we can enjoy
days and moments like this.


My hair is not a statement


My hair is not a statement.
It does not require t-shirts, routines, questions or mantras.
This hair does not listen to me, combs, brushes or products.
She is tumbleweed, cacti and an ocean of numerous waves and curls;
Nearly indestructible.

My hair is a testament to my
Laziness. And of my intense dislike of any type of dryer, utensil, or shampoo
And it often seems that
She loves my neglect which is why she continues
To ramble down my back
Like kudzu.


You Can’t Spell Duo Without Me


How are we a couple when that means
And we’re never together
There is no
Me and you
When we love different things
It’s like we’re living
And I’m never gonna
Earn a place in
Your heart
It’s like you were
So concerned with leading
That you ended up
getting left
I held you down
And you held me back
What kinda happily
Ever after shit
Is that


I Hate Poetry Movies…

movie screen

Okay, that was a lie but these movies always affect me. They stir up emotions and stoke my creativity. They cause lines to pop into my head until I can’t help but start writing. Freaking Love Jones, Slam, and the movie I just finished watching Things Never Said.

One of the lines from Things Never Said is “This ain’t no poetry this is real life.” I have heard that line myself. Heard it from my ex, which might be one of the reasons that he’s an ex. It’s a great, wonderful, strong sentiment but the problem with this line is that poetry is real life. It is in everyday moments large and small. It is in grief and joy, in laughter, cooking and shoe shopping. It is in friendship and love. I think I have a poem entitled Poetry is Life (or Everything) but you get the idea.

For better or worse, for me, poetry is there. So while watching these movies brings me immense joy and reminds me of how much I love poetry as an art and the act of creating it; I am always most grateful for the fact that it leads me back to pen and paper or fingertips on a keyboard.


The Birthday Gift Pt 1


My best friend has to wrap herself in darkness
Life is too much
And she’s all caught up
But she has to remember
That she was meant for light
Meant for life
Meant for flight
She was meant to soar
Was meant for more
I wish she could see herself through my eyes
While we drink wine and compare the size of our thighs
Wish she could find what she lost back then
In those moments when
she should have been safe
Before safety was ripped and yanked away
Wish she saw
That makeup is no good at covering flaws
when the spots are still raw
But I’m simply grateful that she’s
My best friend


Ego Tripping (There may be a reason why)

ego tripping

This is one of my favorite poems ever. It is probably the piece that made me realize that certain poems were written to be performed. I remember seeing this piece performed on the TV show “A Different World” when I was a teenager and I felt so connected to it. I don’t think that this poem is solely for any ethnicity but I love that it includes historical components and it always makes me think of the spread of civilization and across the world.

I was born in the Congo
I walked to the fertile crescent and built
the sphinx
I designed a pyramid so tough that a star
that only glows every one hundred years falls
into the center giving divine perfect light
I am bad

I sat on the throne
drinking nectar with Allah
I got hot and sent an ice age to Europe
to cool my thirst
My oldest daughter is Nefertiti
the tears from my birth pains
created the Nile
I am a beautiful woman

I gazed on the forest and burned
out the Sahara desert
with a packet of goat’s meat
and a change of clothes
I crossed it in two hours
I am a gazelle so swift
so swift you can’t catch me

For a birthday present when he was three
I gave my son Hannibal an elephant
He gave me Rome for mother’s day
My strength flows ever on

My son Noah built new/ark and
I stood proudly at the helm
as we sailed on a soft summer day
I turned myself into myself and was
men intone my loving name
All praises All praises
I am the one who would save

I sowed diamonds in my back yard
My bowels deliver uranium
the filings from my fingernails are
semi-precious jewels
On a trip north
I caught a cold and blew
My nose giving oil to the Arab world
I am so hip even my errors are correct
I sailed west to reach east and had to round off
the earth as I went
The hair from my head thinned and gold was laid
across three continents

I am so perfect so divine so ethereal so surreal
I cannot be comprehended except by my permission

I mean…I…can fly
like a bird in the sky…

-Nikki Giovanni