Skip to main content

Posts

Showing posts from April, 2014

"Eat and Be Merry"

Eat and Be Merry (draft)

the fat beneath my ass does a warm nut brownie make
makin me love and hate this new junk in my trunk
and the sweet potato fries turn into rolls beneath my breasts
this pregnant feelin ain't too cute
and I ain't too cute in this swimmin suit
jamabalaya, yaya, catfish
collard greens and cornbread dreams
are turning into nightmares 'neath these B cups
that used to be A  cups of hot chocolate
drizzled in caramel, whipped cream
topped with marshmallows that have melted into these thighs
breasts, legs of fried chicken are to blame for a
zipper that don't zip no more
jeans don't fit no more
and these bras that now carve lines into my back
like tracks, making love handles
this ain't love, and I don't love that you love
"a lil something to grab on to"
this is war
as I fight the urge to stuff this pain like
turkey on a leafy day
these carbohydrates I don't need
cuz eatin clean and eatin green
just makes me mean when
all i ever wanted was to
eat and…

For Myrtle ...

The color of your skin-
a sort of lemon meringue- contoured around a full framed face. I wish I'd known you longer and felt your luscious smile. Contagious was the squint of your eyes, almond in shape, when your heart pierced through pearly stones and your cheekbones lifted  and the curve of your brow met silky black hair lined with grey edges. I wish I'd known you longer. A smooth, creamy complexion,  free from wrinkles, suggested an age other than your own; And you never knew your birth year; The evil that gave you high yellow  took your age as well. I wish I'd known you,  maybe to stand beside you in the mirror to see whiteness of my ancestors more clearly- to understand this high yellow I am in winter- to recognize the history behind these cheekbones- to know myself better- to know you ... The fullness of your nose and softness of your dimples caress my almond eyes, and what I've wished to know about you lay within the crevices of a smile  wrapped in caramel.

"Finally Spring"

Finally spring

Anticipation of
Brooklyn brunches
Crop top lunches
Double Dutch and
Easy breezy
Fruit stand smoothies
Gentrified greenery
Harlem harems
Ice cold beers in
Jukebox joints and
Kaleidoscope prints as
Luminosity lingers in
Morningside Heights
Noonon 9th Ave and
Omnipotent warmth
Passing through
Queens and
Riding onto the
Staten Island ferry
Toddlers tiptoe in sandboxes
Under the shade
Vicariously, parents
Watch on in reverence
Xylophonic murmurings of the
Yearnings for summer
Zestfully fill the air

"Harlem #1"

People live passively in Harlem
just comfortably enough
to not have to deal with Harlem
To assert their privilege in silence
and be visibly invisible

What would it be like
to sink hands in the quick sands of Harlem?
To really know neighbors in a
"Can I borrow an egg" kind of way?
To say "good morning" to a stranger
on the corner of St. Nick and 150th

and mean it?

"14 hours"

Fourteen hours on my feet. I wish the fairest of them all could walk a meter in my shoes. These wicked stumps called feet lay bruised. The bumps and blisters make their homes inside the skin that wraps the bones of fourteen hours--much too long--of stress and disarray.

Fourteen hours on these toes. These fractured, fingered, feathered foes. And guest requests that run me ragged, ripping through these aging knees. This evil demon, arthritis, crawling through decrepit hips. I limp and linger, licking lips to hydrate for a moment--the shortness of this minute but an hour goes too long.

The Assassination of My Blackness Pt.1

They said my black girl accent had to go
Riffs and runs I sang so freely Diphthongs, twangs; I swallowed them And for a moment 
wished I was bulimic To regurgitate the bull shit I’d inhaled about “real acting."

Color Me ____ .

Color Me _______. “People of color?” What do you mean? If I could be “colored,” Today, I’d be green To become one with nature, And bask in the breeze, Then I could lynch who I pleased.
If I could be colored, I’d paint myself red With blood from the barrels of guns to the heads of my Brothers who’ve perished Their mothers who’ve cried The guilt of my privilege— A slow suicide.
But the world shall paint me black Not my will, but I conform And I take on all this blackness Even though it’s not the norm Even though my skin is brown And my soul is colored blues Go ahead. Pick up the brush and stroke me like I am your muse.
People of color? Unpack that phrase. Tell me your troubles. Show me your gaze.
Color me struggle. Color me rape. Color me hatred. Color me fate. Color me strength. Color me love. Color me fragments of all the above.
People of color, Where do you stand? Take back your colors. Take back your lands. I am the red and the black and green I am the fragments of colors unseen.