black girls.

those loud black girls those loud black girls. aggressive, confrontational loud, black girls. depicted by white-washed sensationalized narratives that project anger onto those loud black girls who, we’re told, need to be tamed. a perceived threat even when our mouths are closed and our hands are at ease. no neck rolling, no lips moving andContinue reading “black girls.”

Untitled…

Dylann Storm Roof   Say his name With responsible acceptance. Claim him As a soldier of white supremacy. With no attempts To demystify Blatant anger, Inherent disdain For black folks. Dehumanize him as if he were Walking his neighborhood streets Asking for help Making eye contact with an officer Or daring to swim. Dehumanize him.Continue reading “Untitled…”

until we free

cries for peace and calm abound when black and brown faces rage. reactions to a fruitful harvest of seeds painful indignation planted by privilege and supremacy watered by death’s grasp and nurtured, agitated with televised taunting of not giving a fuck whether we breathe. and among the masses of bodies strewn together, relentlessly planted inContinue reading “until we free”

For Bobbi Kristina…

On Saturday, January 31, 2015, Bobbi Kristina Brown, the 21-year-old daughter of Bobby Brown and the late Whitney Houston, was found unresponsive, facedown in her bathtub. As Bobbi Kristina was being rushed to the hospital, professional and social media and the blogs were reporting her detriment. The eerily similar way in which her mother wasContinue reading “For Bobbi Kristina…”

On My Block [A street requiem]

This past weekend, I visited Ferguson, MO along with the #BlackLivesMatter group and returned to Atlanta with a lump in my throat but empowerment in my heart. I was speechless…but I could write. And I’m sure this is unfinished, but after seeing the exact location where Mike Brown was gunned down on a neighborhood streetContinue reading “On My Block [A street requiem]”

Asphyxiation (Our Lives Matter)

I can’t breathe. In an open space with air all around Yet, I can’t breathe. Can’t inhale or exhale – Unless they give permission. To kill me. Choke holds and Cold-blooded murder. Bang. Bang. Bang. Because I was suspect. For my Black, my Brown skin. For seeking help. For minding my own business. In thisContinue reading “Asphyxiation (Our Lives Matter)”

Easter Nostalgia

  Feeling a bit nostalgic Mentally turning back the clocks 1987 and I’m dressed In pastel and lace Patent leather shoes White Bobby socks Hair full of curls Blue Magic did its thang Mama straightened out my kitchen And tightened up my bang Homemade basket Colored eggs, chocolate bunnies And a surprise gift, a littleContinue reading “Easter Nostalgia”

Small Town, Big Heartaches: Remembering Our Loved Ones…

Sometimes you wanna go…where everybody knows your name… And sometimes you want to forget all the beautiful memories rooted in youthful naiveté that shielded you from the real world. I was raised in a small town in Alabama and anyone who knows me understands my passion for small towns, community, and all (complicated) things southern.Continue reading “Small Town, Big Heartaches: Remembering Our Loved Ones…”