–– the bastard construct
knowing your power
is what creates
humility.
not knowing your power
is what creates
insecurity.
–– ego
if we
wanted
to.
people of color
could
burn the world down.
for what
we
have experienced.
are experiencing.
but
we don’t.
–– how stunningly beautiful that our sacred respect for the
earth is deeper than our rage
if i have never seen you cry.
if you do not cry.
if you do not value or respect the needs of your water.
you and i can not form.
if you can not allow your own being
to wash over you.
how will mine ever make it past your skin.
–– available
beautiful
is the highest compliment
you
can pay a woman.
i watch women
dive.
to the ground.
eat it.
stand up.
and
smile.
–– shame
if you can not
hear
them.
ask the ancestors
to
speak louder.
they only whisper
so
as not to frighten you.
they know
they have been convinced.
coerced.
spooked.
from your skin.
–– communication
weather
is the
earth’s
emotions.
she is obviously
enraged.
–– sentient
there
are some wounds.
only
africa
can
heal.
–– in us
a lie
is
simply a lie.
it draws its strength from belief.
stop believing
in
what hurts you.
–– power
your words walk down my back.
this is how
you leave me.
–– vertebrae
will you always be this pain in me.
will you always hurt.
you must
put
healing on the list.
the grocery list.
the to do list.
the night list.
because
you are teaching
your
baby
the very same chemistry
that
took your eyes
and
heart when you were four.
–– the list
are
your
own
standard of
beauty.
–– mirror work
make sure
they have fallen in love
with
your spirit.
first.
your body.
second.
–– the fragrance of your laughter
i am often broken into language.
whether i want to
speak or not.
i fell apart many times.
so.
what does that say about me
besides
i live through
wars.
my ancestors made sure
i was born
the color of their
eyes.
–– sight
have you ever
heard
a black woman weep over her skinmurdered child.
it is the splitting of atoms.
it is billions
of
voices screaming their children’s names
through
her death wail.
–– trayvon martin ii
do you think
calling me ‘angry’
is an insult.
every time you call me ‘angry’
i hear your voice salt with guilt
and
i laugh.
look how easy it is to reveal you.
–– anger is a healthy and natural response to oppression
it’s not about making you uncomfortable.
it’s about making me comfortable.
–– reparations
i think one
of the most pathological
things i have ever seen
is
stabbing
someone
and
then telling them that
their
pain and anger
over being stabbed
is
making you sad.
–– white guilt
you can not
remain
a
war
between
what you want to say (who you really are)
and
what you should say (who you pretend to be)
you mouth was not designed to eat itself.
–– split
chemistry
is
you touching my arm
and
it
setting fire to my mind.
–– flood
you ask
your heart
why it is always hurting.
it says
‘this is the only thing you will allow me to say to you.
the only feeling you are willing to feel.’
weep.
into your shirt.
you’re allowed.
–– clouds
he said
‘my absence is strong and warm.
it will hold
you.
it will teach you how to miss.
how to be without.
and
how to survive anyway.’
–– how my father raised me
will begin falling
from your mouth
the moment.
you forgive yourself.
for the silence
you
did not create.
–– fault
‘i love myself.’
the
quietest.
simplest.
most
powerful.
revolution.
ever.
–– ism
i want you
to
drink the sea inside of me.
–– summer juice
i dropped my pride
in the gulf of your mouth.
and
i do not know how to swim.
–– island
i look for you
in the middle of the light.
in the west of the day.
in the warm memory of the water.
she is poem country.
everywhere
a
language.
writing.
is the way
your
being speaks to you.
–– conversations
you are digging into my heart
with both of your hands.
who. what. are you looking for.
i am right here.
–– trust
i wake up in a poem.
i knew.
read.
sonia sanchez.
nikki giovanni.
audre lorde.
before
i ever even
heard the name
charles bukowski.
finall
y,
a proper education.
–– the order
hire her.
for your children.
for your kitchen.
for your clothes.
for your house.
give her a room
with an unmade twin bed and a dresser. an alarm clock.
set her hours
past her own children’s bed time.
shorten her name.
change her name.
talk through her.
call her a part of the family. without ever asking if she
wants you this close to her skin.
just
do not be surprised the day
you accidently
look in her eyes
and
her spirit pulls your heart out through your mouth.
–– the maid
who you are.
is not what you are doing.
what you are doing
is
being
someone else.
–– architecture
her love.
was the only medicine.
the only.
medicine.
that ever worked. and this is why.
she left.
she
wanted yours to work.
too.
–– healer
the thing you are most
afraid to write.
write that.
–– advice to young writers
when i am lost
touch the back of my water
and
i will return.
the wounds have changed me.
i am so soft with scars
my skin
breathes and beats stars.
i have lost millions and millions
of words to fear.
tell me that is not violence.
–– the deaths
if she is warm
let me
know her in the morning.
we write from the body.
it remembers everything.
–– bone and soil
your
hands pouring sky
all over my
bed
what language is that.
your mother may
never return from war.
but
you will still see her everyday.
–– two
fall apart.
please
just, fall apart.
open your mouth.
and
hurt. hurt the size of everything it is.
–– dam
she was flower salt in my heart, and she hurt beautifully.
for me
there is no other.
because there is no default.
everyone
is
a variation of life.
–– the human being | the human gender | the human sex
it was
i
who held you
when
you
wanted
someone else.
–– treason
i saw love
there
i just did not pick it up.
–– mistake
express your sadness.
inside
it has only one place to go.
–– tissue
you are trailing long dust
across
our heart.
there is an easier way to leave.
–– over
you.
the weight.
rose cinnamon.
dark honey.
the clothes you wear on your mouth.
the warm smoke in your legs.
a quiet quilt.
a mason jar (for moon).
an easy laugh brushed with oil.
time.
the light left over.
some music in your hair.
you.
–– things you bring to the ocean at night
why is the moon
full.
is it carrying the whole world
too.
–– daughter
you are a sea of light.
open your eyes.
see yourself.
i am terrified
then i remember
i am
giving birth to a continent.
i remember
that
i am giving birth
to
a continent over and over.
–– the process | writing a book | the ancestors were my midwives | ashé.