a love poem...

eye laugh at how eye will begin

if eye will even get to what my bodies 

reaching to move in this poem 

we’ll See..

knowing well the culture of 

what eye am entering in this writing 

knowing well that white supremacy 

is a culture takes up residence

in all sorts of bodies

assignments, locations

and demographics  

not limited to just those

assigned white at birth 

just as patriarchy is neither limited

to males nor men  

both are just hierarchies

with particular 

qualities 

nuances

ambiance 

intonations

flavor…

integrating with the trends 

the flavors of the month  

fuel for its perpetuity 

much of which rolls right on through

unimpeded

underneath threshold

of our awareness 

absorbed and assumed

counterfeit truth 

we barely notice if at all

crafting our lenses

building its walls

ravaging our relationships 

defiling the sanctity of our living 

as our minds play 

make believe on surfaces 

and we tap dance on 

our own dignity 

the infiltration continues

its culture of forgery

ever forging…

bending us into its

regularly scheduled programming

wielding our holy protections 

against ourSelves

against each other 

and we defend this

incessant menacing extortion 

we assume it’s hideous ravaging face 

as if challenging its pseudo authority 

in our Sacred Bodies would be akin 

to cutting off our own arm 

to gouging out our own “I”

we instead feign our oblivion

unto ourSelves

nurturing our addictions 

to false safety 

nurturing our addictions 

to mediocre living 

nurturing our addictions 

to an outpost of binary perceptions

we cling to a simple plank 

in the vast bridging of our evolution

beyond right or wrongness

woke or not-ness 

this or that-ness

know or hot mess

like this be the only way

we can reach to See

the only way 

we can cultivate to Be 

we clinging to the old crumbs 

of a bleached unwondered bread 

while we standing in 

a boundless cosmic bakery 

petting each other on the heads 

of our fragility like dogs 

like good boys and girls 

the reach toward authenticity 

in a culture of hierarchy 

inspires a holy fear 

one must stand with and in 

again and again…

but thats what makes me feel alive

(re)member that eye am alive

S a c r e d  F i r e

make jelly these walls of lies

eye eat my way through the melting

shit it out on the other side

bullshit has 

no color

no flavor 

the taste is a fucking lie

…the truth of passage emergent in rite

but our Sacred Armor 

keep us imprisoned 

in this blight 

Bob wailed… 

🎼 emancipate yourSelf

from mental slavery

none but ourSelves

can free our minds 🎼

fragility 

the greatest weapon 

against consciousness 

of our times 

where the protections of running 

once wisely rose 

fought fiercely 

to welcome the horizons 

of new days to flow…

in other contexts 

we become a cowering 

in the numb of apathy 

false bravado disempowering 

fugue state got us forgotten 

to the truth of our Holy Flowering 

where hiding may have protected

from the suffocating hand

of oppression 

in other context

we become that hand 

lost in the very maze

we created to survive it 

the maze we created

in promise of days to thrive in

like how we hid our spirituality 

inside their saints 

but now some of us 

dance a worship we lye in 

the hijacking of our agency 

been steadily coached 

trained to give freedom up freely 

while we boast that we woke 

we move in a kind of vacancy 

in the tom-schoolery we choke 

compulsory education 

got us treating our children 

like they enslaved on a plantation 

with a pipeline to damnation

eye mean really…

do we still believe

reverence and respect 

mean hierarchy must reflect

mean your boot on my neck

mean our children be subject

that vagina mean submit 

with my identity you can conflict?

the shit moves insidious 

hierarchy part of our daily feed

as we scroll through monsanto’s 

servered up compost 

slow and deep 

permeating 

percolating

amending our soils 

with false truths that give rise

to the ways we See

give rise to our Sacred Perceptions

that nurture what we really Be

and we move

as an ocean of false believing 

unaware of the coercion

living its best life 

beneath the distraction

of our inward seething 

a cold and rigid

insistent righteousness

well protected crafted distances 

our bodies move autoimmune 

as we lay land minds to the path 

of our own Sacred Truth

Malcom said…
 

we been misled

led astray

deceived

and maneuvered

imperfect in his perfection cause 

his beliefs included 

that one could speak 

to my vagina’s place  

but still eye rise in my worship 

cause that brotha moved 

wisdom heart and grace 

and speaking of rise 

and Maya Angelou’s deep wise

intertwined Paul Dunbar’s 

poetic profound 

‘bout what rises in the motions 

of Black bodies bound
 

we wear the mask that grins and lies

it shades our cheeks and hides our eyes

this debt we pay to human guile

with torn and bleeding heart

we smile…

my fathers sit on benches

their flesh counts every plank

the slats leave dents of darkness

deep in their withered flanks

and they gnawed like broken candles

all waxed and burnt profound

they say..

but sugar it was our submission

that made your world go round

See…

submission lives in the ocean 

of why eye breathe

the rape of consent 

where eye rage mySelves free 

Brotha’s See…

it is not that eye don’t need you 

eye love you deep 

it’s that 

you 

me

we

fought for my Sovereignty

as 𝘸𝘦 fought for yours 

our debts been paid 

in the blood of our ancestors 

our eyes soar on the same plane 

the wilderness of our oceans 

be side by side 

independent

of any perceptions otherwise 

in this liberation ride 

hierarchy dies 

and eye won’t compromise 

…and eye will never discard you 

eye raise fist ride or die 

bell hooks wrote…
 

It is obvious that many women have appropriated feminism to serve their own ends, especially those white women who have been at the forefront of the movement; but rather than resigning myself to this appropriation I choose to re-appropriate the term ‘feminism’, to focus on the fact that to be ‘feminist’ in any authentic sense of the term is to want for all people, female and male, liberation from sexist role patterns, domination, and oppression. 

to my humxn siblings 

enfleshed in white skins 

Jimmy Baldwin said…
 

“If I love you,

I have to make you conscious

of the things you don’t see.” 

to pretend your culture of hierarchy

does not exist in your body 

because you call me friend… 

if eye consent to tiptoe 

around your false certainties

to pretend your realm 

of make believe 

is not a kind of insanity 

just to keep you comfortable 

just keep the smile on your face…

like my ancestors used to die 

trying to do 

like twilight zone anthony 

so eye don’t get wished

back into cotton fields  

walking on your 

land mines of eggshells 

to pretend is not to love you 

it has never been to love you 

it is not love 

it is survival

to pretend

is to not love mySelves

to pretend

is to dishonor my ancestors 

blood spilled

…to dishonor those not yet lynched 

to not love my children 

to not love our children

and live truthfully 

the world eye want for them 

eye cannot allow 

violent fragility 

to dictate space 

and this is love 

a deep deep love 

and some of my 

Diasporic Black Kinfolk

might disagree 

that eye won’t pet you 

on your fragility 

e nina jay wrote…
 

if you need the absolution 

there are many black womyn who love to be excited 

when adults learn childhood lessons 

but those Black womyn are just not me…

eye got rough and rage eye can’t predict 

eye got emoceans that contradict

eye don’t choose peace over conflict 

and eye don’t suck no doctrines dick

now eye am not womxn 

but this move in my truth 

and this be the wealth 

of the Diaspora 

vast and conflicting

a paradox aligned 

and within it all…

eye am

and eye move as eye move

because eye am

my Collective of Self

dancing together

like drops of water

cast body

🖤