Here in all my chastity, or so I thought; Here in all my rant of following Christ And posing as a sinless soul At a time when I said in my heart Take a rest, you are not involved in immorality Take a nap, foul language is far from thy lips Raise thy feet, others know you as a saint […]
They call me black woman; No monograph, just black woman! Colored into a system, Colored into a stereotype No depictions of my strength or worth Just black woman. A name they estimate narrates who I am No permission or consent from me about who I am or what i want to be known as Just their depictions of what they peek from others Giving me roots and identities falling short of who I truly am Excluding my melanin and thick bottom Which is much more than who I am.
I hate having an accent. I hate it when people ask me to repeat things sometimes and I can hear them laughing inside because I am not American. Now I reply Father’s Igbo with English. I would do it with Mother too, but I don’t think she will go for that just yet. When people ask where I am from, […]
Originally posted on Cellar Door:
If only out of vanity I have wondered what kind of woman I will be when I am well past the summer of my raging youth Will I still be raising revolutionary flags and making impassioned speeches that stir up anger in the hearts of pseudo-liberals dressed in navy-blue conservative wear In those years when I am grateful I still have a good sturdy bladder that does not leak undigested prune juice onto diapers—no longer adorable will I be more grateful for that than for any forward movement in any current political cause and will it have been worth it then Will it have been worth the long hours of not sleeping that produced little more than reams of badly written verses that catapulted me into literary spasms but did not even whet the appetite of the three O’ clock crowd in the least respected of the New York poetry cafes Will I wish then that I had taken that job working at the bank or the one to watch that old lady drool all over her soft boiled eggs as she tells me how she was a raving beauty in the sixties how she could have had any man she wanted but she chose the one least likely to succeed and that’s why when the son of a bitch died she had to move into this place because it was government subsidized Will I…
It is not everyday that a book written by the general overseer and overall pastor of a church, gets a huge recommendation that could mean that regardless of your religion or perception of who ‘God’ is to you, who ever you are that is; it is advisable for you to get a copy of that book and read it. Anyone […]
Originally posted on DaValz Code:
DaValz Code View original post