Work While You Wait
Farah at 41 wishes she could grab Farah at 24 and give her a great big hug. I would let her know how proud I am of her for
Splinters in Your Booty
Have you ever sat on the bench so long that you feel splinters in your booty?
The Value of Loneliness
i have known alone,
moved into a room in her home,
making my bed every morning
until i was evicted by joyI’m
What Falling in Love Feels Like
i'm thankful for now;
for my smile and the awakening
in my soul and body,
body and soul,
for jazz tones traveling up my spine
and dancing out of my mouth through colorful laughter.
Learning to Fly
My first time on an airplane was when I was about sixteen. I was a semifinalist for a prestigious summer program at Harvard University and was invited to interview on their campus in Cambridge, Massachusetts. Daddy and I flew out early that morning—I still remember the pain and pressure in my ears, the fear I felt at the bumpy landing, and how exciting it was to see a new city.
“The Things Growing Next Door” (POEM)
Bad influences basked in the sun
til the street lights came on;
I went dormant, hibernated all summer long.
Daddy didn’t want me copycatting
the things growing next door.
SPIRITUAL AWAKENING (Poem)
When I inhale,
I stretch my belly out past my belt,
guide breath through every locked crevice,
knock off cobwebs of lies we told.
GRASP WISELY (Poem)
You don't have to correct the past.
It's already forgiven.
Take pleasure in the fact that
you survived,
that what meant to kill you failed
miserably.
NEIGHBORS (Poem)
Welcome to DC,
where we honor Blacks who are dead,
and treat the live ones like ghosts.
THE NEED TO BE LIKED (Poem)
I am divorcing myself from
the need to be liked,
coaxing down forced
church girl smiles
FOR CASSIE
I, too, was a teenaged girl
who fell for an older dude
and realized years later
I was groomed.
REVISITING LEMONADE (Poem)
I witnessed the healing journey
of a human being, not just a celebrity,
moving from heartache to reconciliation.
VENERATION FOR TONI MORRISON (Poem)
Ancestor Toni taught me to protect my stories and language fiercely,
to be wary of Eurocentric editing and code-switching,
to celebrate the way we speak and our intricacies.
THE SOUNDTRACK TO MY C-SECTION (Poem)
I chose Beyoncé,
wishing to be Sasha Fierce brave
as they strapped my arms down to the table.
LINE SISTER (Poem)
You bleed, I bleed—
our monthlies in sync so we
lust, overeat, bloat and PMS on beat.
LET IT SHINE THROUGH (Poem)
Sis, your soul glow like Darryl. On God.
And how you make it look easy? It’s hard.
When the world burns, they expect us to cook.
AIN’T NOBODY DOPE AS ME AT 14 (Poem)
That night, hip-hop sweet-talked me like
Cadillac driving Southern playas rockin fur coats and gators.
Hot and sticky like the South,
rap lyrics flowed from my mouth.
NEXT STOP (Poem)
Imagine two intellectual Brooklyn backpacker rappers
reciting 1970 words from Queen Toni Morrison
on and 88-Keys produced beat.
THE CLOSEST I EVER FELT TO GOD
Minutes after the radiologist called to inform me that
cancer made a new home in my lymph nodes,
my back yard filled with baby blue birds,
an army of angels singing