Today you shined, today you defined
the thrill of the unmaligned mind
and love, returned in kind.

Time itself unwinds and I am of one mind.
Spirit and body aligned, love for humankind
I feel as well as find. Am I of sane mind?

Have I joined the kingdom of the blind
where oppression is not enshrined?
I must be losing my blighted mind.

Is my state of mind a design?
The sun seems disinclined
in the manner of the divine
to provide reason or rhyme.

I want to take a hard line
but my anger, the sun declined
and I stay in a lovely frame of mind.

I blame it on the sunshine,
calling it an enemy of mine
but the sun stays benign
and I know I’m out of line.

of a bed that’s unsleepable
until egyptian cotton sheets are removed
balled together in a bamboo hamper
to be fumigated
by the washing process

the time-worn couch
is untenable as well
until I remove the sheets
covering what was twice
his resting place
and replace them with
freshly washed ones.

then I can curl myself into it
until the knowledge
that a bicycle isn’t the only thing
a woman can never forget how to ride
is put into its proper place

like the sheets


April 27, 2013

Back then, moans
manifested through walls
like copulating ghosts

making morning after
sightings problematic.

I bound myself to my room
until the sounds and subjects
dissipated into the mist
of a Monday morning.

Now, when I hear sounds
through the walls
I remember my own moans
and how they climaxed
into this life
where I am a mother
listening to my child
read himself to sleep.


April 27, 2013

a generation of violets
spreads into english gardens
formerly manicured
with the precision
of the queen’s english.

exigent circumstances
leads to a silence
which tries but fails
to silence desperate
desires for cassava
and groundnut

in love (secretly) with sister killjoy’s
black-eyed squint
they spread not
their language to their seeds
who travel far
on diasporic planes

and who, when they return,
need the rosetta stone

to decipher their source

Hope (5/30)

April 26, 2013

wild is the wind
which torments screen
i am witness
to the anomaly
of april snow showers
which, while not rain,
will still bring
may flowers.

four am thunder
and thoughts:
strong glass/soft water.
electronic impasse.
no memorializing
mother nature’s fury
while early morning media
tows the line.

five am thoughts
of thunder
and the battle that has come.
scrimmages between
mohawk boy and me
about the mohawk

dropping seeds:
isn’t it interesting?
everyday i direct you
to comb your mohawk
but it isn’t until
impending visit
of masculine parent
that you get upset
with my threat
to cut it off
if you don’t take care
of it

I am way behind with Napowrimo but here I go, attempting to catch up!


An Indian man and woman

who I think are a couple
until the distance between
extends beyond what is proper
for a woman must walk five steps
behind her man scenario.

Moving in the opposite direction
is a well-hipped white woman
pushing an empty pram
and a young black woman
whose hair runs the rainbow
between yellow and pink.
I stare until she stares me
back into recognizing my rudeness
and my past
where my blues were the turquoise

of my hair.

Untitled (3/30)

April 4, 2013

The poet can make
a barren woman pregnant;
can give her,
known for her pretty smile,
a pair of pirate eyes;
yet cannot write in a land
blighted by drought
unless he puts his instrument down
picks up the vase,
places it square
on his head,
leaves his house
and walks with the millions
seeking cholera-free water.


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Why (2/30)

April 3, 2013

He is not the one
and yet I love him
His virginity was mine
and so is his oldest child.

He is America
and I vacillate
between love
and a frustration
that wants to lodge
in hate but can’t
because I grew
up in him.

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Abstract #1 (1/30)

April 2, 2013

She cried me a river
which I populated
with salmon.

She then fished
up my nose
for coke fiend

to tell her
unstoried friends

but I was unpowdered
like puff the magic dragon.

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This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.