Raises holy hell at any expense Uses religion as a pretense Long lost and so far gone Always fearing the unknown Denying everyone recompense Dreams of a white picket fence Sees love as dollars and cents Heart of nickel-plated gold … Continued
for Miss Black Tulsa 2018 Born a lamb in the Year of the Dragon, destined to fly high yet raised a caged bird, singing songs in A minor, pulled wagon for the dough, not for the ‘Gram, hummingbird eloquence, a … Continued
More than a thing in a haystack often associated with Cleopatra herself having no connection to you in London, Paris or New York You’re the sole reason Momma and Daddy groovin’ in Oklahoma were ever soul mates And … Continued
for a real one We met four years after you needed healing after you became the living dead after your first husband shot down all your dreams after his loaded pistol targeted your self-confidence after he fathered a child … Continued
After leaving the Sonia Sanchez talk at NYU, Jason and Terry go to have drinks at Fat Black Pussycat on West 3rd Street. Once inside, they order a pitcher of beer and grab a table. Every flat screen is showing … Continued
Dressed to the nines in bright green opposite her spirit radiating her nature unassuming she entered the party turning heads begetting whispers as married men staring death in the face wedding bands ignored failed to see what lies beneath the surface of her … Continued
Who dares to stand before others and deliver? Who’s got the gall to go at it alone— all alone, unaccompanied, solo? The soloist is brave, confident yet sometimes terrified, petrified it’s hell on earth and the city’s on fire … Continued
for a real one 1. We met four years after you jumped the broom too soon. By then you were the living dead. Your husband fathered a child with another woman, knowing you always dreamt of being a mother. And he shot down your self-confidence every time he loaded up his pistol while awaiting his next call of duty. 2. You needed healing so I became your healer. If I’m being honest, you’d said, I’d take a … Continued
It’s Friday night in America I’m at home as usual But no complaints I’ve got company over The sort of people you might know Guest No. 1 is from South Africa She’s poring over The Grapes of Wrath Only two years old … Continued
Lyla’s Café, located on 125th and Amsterdam in New York City, is a mere two blocks from my apartment building. It’s well known for its French fries—and perhaps other things too, but I couldn’t tell you. It’s been open for … Continued