Another Weeping Woman – Wallace Stevens

As I said last week I am a lifelong student. I still crave knowledge so I am constantly exploring the world of poets and poetry. This week I wanted to share this poem that speaks to loudly to my spirit. I stumbled across this piece while looking for writing inspiration for a short story. I hope you all enjoy it.


Pour the unhappiness out
From your too bitter heart,
Which grieving will not sweeten.

Poison grows in this dark.
It is in the water of tears
Its black blooms rise.

The magnificent cause of being,
The imagination, the one reality
In this imagined world

Leaves you
With him for whom no phantasy moves,
And you are pierced by a death.


The Purest


-For my lioness and every mother who loves the way she did.

I have already loved
the purest love.
Have spent nights
being nurtured and nourished
by the hugest heart
I’ve ever known.
I have
stood in the shade and shadow
of that smile
learning how to give and live.
I’ve had a protected existence.
Was shielded yet free
wild but intelligent; perfect dichotomies.
I am simply waiting
to experience it all again.



Today, I’m sharing with you my most personal piece because this poem jump started my professional poetry career in a sense. I wrote this piece in 1998 (I think). I write it for my mom and grandmother for Mother’s Day. This poem was the water that tore down the dam. It is the piece that caused other people to ask me to write pieces for them and for events. It is the foundation of my poetic career in so many ways. Today, on what would have been my mom’s 57th birthday, I want to share it with you.

Unfortunately, I can’t find the original version so I have to attach the framed copy that I gave my grandmother. You won’t be able to make out the words but it really is just a loving tribute to the woman well women who made me who I am.

Here it is…Tribute



Son of Msippi – HENRY DUMAS

Fortunately, I’m a perennial student. In so many ways I am still the childhood version of myself; always thirsting for knowledge, always wanting to know more. Last week, I finally had a chance to read the New York Times article on Toni Morrison “The Radical Vision of Toni Morrison”and I fell in love all over again. I fell into deep and abundant awe anew but most importantly, I learned so much. One of the things that I learned was about the poet Henry Dumas who I’d never heard of. So I did what I do and researched him. Today, I’m sharing one of his poems. I hope you all enjoy and are inspired.


from Msippi I grew.
(Bare walk and cane stalk
make a hungry belly talk.)
from the river of death.
(Walk bare and stalk cane
make a hungry belly talk.)

from Msippi I grew.
from the river of pain.

Out of the long red earth dipping, rising,
spreading out in deltas and plains,

out of the strong black earth turning
over by the iron plough,

out of the swamp green earth dripping
with moss and snakes,

out of the loins of the leveed lands
muscling its American vein:
the great Father of Waters,
I grew
beside the prickly boll of white,
beside the bone-filled Mississippi
rolling on and on,
breaking over,
cutting off,
ignoring my bleeding fingers.

Bare stalk and sun walk
I hear a boll-weevil talk
cause I grew
beside the ox and the bow,
beside the rock church and the shack row,
beside the fox and the crow,
beside the melons and maize,
beside the hound dog,
beside the pink hog,
dog pissing
in the Mississippi
rolling on and on,
ignoring the colored coat I spun
of cotton fibers.

Cane-sweat river-boat
nigger-bone floating.

Up from Msippi
I grew,
wailing a song with every strain.

Woman gone woe man too
baby cry rent-pause daddy flew.


The Sleepover


It’s night again
Just me and my books
In my bed
These words and characters
Keeping me company
While others are sleeping

These late night sessions
Are such fun
Reminiscent of nights
Spent under the covers with a
Flashlight and a book
Giggling and immersed in a story

It’s like hurtling back
Through time
Just me and one of
my oldest friends
This love of books
Keeps me company

On the many nights
When my constant companion
insomnia; keeps me
Wide awake and
Won’t let me


I’m Waiting


As many of you likely know, Harper Lee’s follow up novel Go Set a Watchman is being released this week. I pre-ordered as soon as I found out. I am of the school of people who believe that Lee’s introductory novel To Kill A Mockingbird was one of the best things to happen to American literature so to say that I was excited about the release of new work by the author would be an understatement.

So I am patiently waiting for Thursday’s UPS delivery and I will try to post again later in the week but I fully expect to be engrossed in that book for several hours. Yes, if the book is great I expect to finish it in one sitting. I plan to devote that time to the #1 book on my summer reading list (since I’ve only read one book from that list so far).

Are any of you planning to read Go Set a Watchman? What are you reading? Have you had more success with your summer reading?


Another Acquisition



Along with the secretary that I wrote about a few months ago, I have been wanting to acquire a vintage typewriter for a long time. Much like my extensive secretary hunt; I searched Etsy, ebay, yard sales and antique shops in the hopes of finding one. My grandmother had the amazing advice that I search the latter two in hopes of finding the perfect one.

   I had my mind set to pay the expensive prices for one that I’d stumbled upon on Etsy or one on chairish; those ranged from $170-$350 but…a couple of weeks ago I had the strongest feeling that I  needed to visit my local Habitat ReStore. I did and picked up a few things but was still just rambling around when someone came in with a donation and I heard the magic words “old typewriter.”

  Needless to say, I jumped right on that asking the clerk if it would be for sale that day. Yes, I was ready to buy it sight unseen.  That’s her, my beauty! I snagged her for a GREAT price and although she doesn’t work right now I am still the proud owner of a cast iron typewriter.


A Woman Speaks



Moon marked and touched by sun  
my magic is unwritten
but when the sea turns back
it will leave my shape behind.  
I seek no favor
untouched by blood
unrelenting as the curse of love  
permanent as my errors
or my pride
I do not mix
love with pity
nor hate with scorn
and if you would know me
look into the entrails of Uranus  
where the restless oceans pound.

I do not dwell
within my birth nor my divinities  
who am ageless and half-grown  
and still seeking
my sisters
witches in Dahomey
wear me inside their coiled cloths  
as our mother did

I have been woman
for a long time
beware my smile
I am treacherous with old magic  
and the noon’s new fury
with all your wide futures  
I am
and not white.


My apologies


I feel absolutely horrid as if I’ve been ignoring the blog or not being as diligent in posting and I am normally so much better at time management and blog posts.

There’s really no excuse. I can only say that I have been taking care of some health issues and busy writing a paper (yes, I procrastinated horriby!) In any case I plan to do much better in the next month or so and I hope to be back to normal way before the fall semester starts for me. Hope you all had a great holiday weekend!

But this did happen and I had to share it with all of you. This is a piece that I’ve shared here before and it was recently published on this site.