A Sketch

Hey, beautiful people! Sending you love and good vibes. I know we are living in some hectic times. I feel your pain and anger. I am right there with you. You, me, we have a right to our anger and anxiety about the future. Craft, write, produce art that tells our story in this era. We need you, the artist, for hope, understanding, consciousness, love, fight, and for life. Keep crafting! Here’s a new piece I shared at Thrive. I will be posting a recap of my experience soon and other poems. Love you all.

A Sketch

I beat phrenology
& got a master’s degree

They always thought I’d be lazy/shiftless
I will not just die,
Wick never snuffed out
Everlasting flame

They always thought I’d be game

Known as
Gender or hue
There will be no dissecting

They always thought me as killer Of my own people

The light to be
All the light we hadn’t
We can now see &
The blood, kept in
The flesh, bone tied
The nerve, pulsating

They always thought I’d be menace, strung out, drunk on the l-i-q corner

Joyous with ocean salt, spuming mouth
Sapphiring my brown
On the shore chanting
Names of footsteps
Singing those
Now dreams
My swollen face
In by and by negro spiritual
I’m studded with tears

They always thought I was supposed to be sexual god & womanizer

I am tulip
And sequoia
You will know protection
You will know beauty
Your black roots &
The earth of this new place
Will honor us
The gods we always
Knew we were
& this new place
Where my mother’s children
Weren’t mistaken as her clients

They always thought I’d amount to nothing

We won’t call this place America
No more
Redrawn liberation, now her name is
Black man/Black woman
Walk down the street,
Petals rose


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