
ZZZZZZ ZZZZZZ BUZZING (Poem)
Zzzzzz zzzzzz buzzing,
the 1 am “Hey big head” texts from tempting ex-boyfriends threatening abstinence.
“It takes consistency to be with me,” they say,
then pray the Rose of Sharon won’t mind

SAFETY GHAZAL
My heroes are negroes older and blacker than me.
Fermented melanin plus God is medicine. We still safe.

WHY I AM NOT A HIP-HOP SONG (Poem)
And frankly, I’m tired
of being “hard as hell” like LL,
would hate to get shot like 2Pac,
and I’m way too private
to yap about my WAP.

WATERMELON DAY (Poem)
The textured, soft blood-colored juice is a reprieve from the mocking we’ve received. We throw away stereotypes like rinds. Leave that mess for the flies.

A HYMN FOR ROSES (Poem)
Me, as beautiful as I am,
ain’t nothing but trouble.
I pour out libations through tears,
call on Ancestors to prune fears,
chase illness away with my prayers

LIVING WITH 3 RASTA MEN (Poem)
“Dreadlock no live in a tenement yard,”
and they no longer stay on the same redlined street
where an old Karen drove past me, mouth agape,
asking sharply:
“You’re moving?”

I AM A POET BECAUSE
It’s lonely as hell here.
Words don’t just
up and abandon you
the way people do.

DEAR CORY (Poem)
Sir,
I admit that I joked more than twice
that you only have two facial expressions:
surprised and resigned.

WE ALL SING DOWN HERE (Poem)
We all sing down here—
sing the praises of the rich
and memories of being poor.
This drame lyrique has no beat

What Flower Represents You?
What y'all thought was dead, Spirit brought as protection. Each challenge I overcome becomes my legacy. For future generations, my beautiful family, they are everything. When I see beauty, it's merely my reflection shining back at me.
This spring, my driveway will be purple. Aligned with my energy. My gardening is offering.

What Are You Trying to Prove?
"Every time I get sick, it feels like God is telling me to slow down and reevaluate my intentions. Recently, I’ve been asking myself: What am I trying to prove? Am I falling into the same patterns of overdoing it, trying to 'do it big' instead of focusing on the simple, meaningful parts of my work? If you’ve ever found yourself stuck in the cycle of striving, ask yourself this: Who does this action serve?"
OUR SELF-LOVE IS REVOLUTIONARY!
In a world that often challenges our worth, self-love becomes a radical act of defiance. My poem, "Our Self-Love is Revolutionary!", celebrates the quiet strength and resilience of melanated beings. Through each smile and every embrace of self, we reclaim our power and write our own narrative.

EMERALD, RUBY & GOLD (Poem)
In my mid-life years,
I savor their stories from the past —
hit ‘Record’ when I can
or type notes furiously.
This is how I keep my parents alive
for eternity.
I venerate my parents
while they are still here on earth
to add ease to my ancestral practice
for future me.
Future generations will know their names,
and through their children,
their legacy.

From Busy to Well: How Cancer Taught Me to Truly Live
Cancer forced my life into stillness. In that quiet, I noticed the silence of artistic colleagues who knew I was sick but never reached out. I felt the emptiness of achievements that once seemed so important when my health was on the line. Slowly, I shifted my focus inward, learning to embrace the profound value of family and spirituality over the external validation I once chased.

IF ONLY WE KNEW WE WERE STARS (Poem)
It took the possibility of death to start loving me. Plus a dash of radical honesty, a splash of holy water in the form of tears

Overcoming Self-Doubt
I asked myself, “Am I too late? Did I wait too long to start this plan or this journey?”
A thought immediately came to my mind:
“Girl, how are going to be late to your own life?”

MY 40th BIRTHDAY (Poem)
The transformation from
my skin being “oily”
to it now being “glowy”

October 26, 2019
For my dear, childhood friend, Farrah's wedding.
I feared going down to Sealy, Texas,
too close to where Sandra Bland
transitioned from woman to martyr.

MY DADDY TURNED 80 (Poem)
I thank you for living,
for continuing to fight,
for modeling what true love looks like.

INSUFFICIENT EVIDENCE (Poem)
When I called the pig detective
for an update about my case,
he said
“Oh, no one called to tell you?
There was insufficient evidence…