Healer

It hasn't stopped yet

this bleeding from my weakened soul

with no feminine products in sight

no one offers a bath

they would rather watch  me drown

as I drag myself to touch the hem of His garment

I am invisible to the rest of the world

who turns a blind eye to me

reaching out to the shadow of the Almighty

who knows my name

and never forgets every detail of my life

even though the dust has covered the road

that I have walked many times over

trying to find relief

and He says:

“Go and be made whole”.

Spoken Funk!

In May, I was the spotlight artist at Spoken Funk in North Hollywood!

cinquain #2

I know

if I could fly

truly I would escape

to places where no one has dared

to dream…

© 2011 PoetryofMotion!

Heart of a Woman (For Maya Angelou)

On Friday
for only $1
she called to me through her book
sitting on the shelf  alive waiting to be heard
what a price for such wisdom
On Monday
I heard her message
through the pages of her story
amazed and intrigued
leaving the book resting on a red pillow
not knowing that on Wednesday
she would be gone
and although we never met
I’m glad she spoke to me all the way to page 106
and I listened

bring back our girls

bring back our girls

lives that cannot be thrown away

tossed out like garbage

like unripe fruit

picked before its time

flowers that never had a chance to bloom

bring them back

so they can flourish

they need the chance to breathe

and not inhale the foulness of old men’s breath

or feel unclean hands

and hear words not meant for their ears

bring our girls back

they are not just our future

but our present

their presence matters

to somebody

even if not to you

find them

like precious jewels in Nigerian caves of

aquamarine

emerald

amethyst

garnet

tourmaline

topaz  

zircon

and sapphire

search for them

they are wondering

they are waiting

hoping

praying

crying

wailing

for someone to come to their rescue

please

Mornings

On dark mornings

I layer my delicate frame in silk and linen garments

that shield me from the eyes of ravenous wolves

in sheep’s clothing

whose predatory instincts trail the scent of fresh femininity

causing them to commit crimes against womanhood.

With no man to protect me from their heinous ways 

As I walk through empty alleys and streets where they lie in wait for me

I hide in the shadow of the Almighty

becoming invisible

only the light that surrounds me is seen

and I go on my way without fear

knowing that I am safe.

                   

 

I Could

I could bloom here

in this concrete soil

with its steel skyline

and endless waves of people walking the pavement

going underground to get from point A to B to C

sometimes stepping on one another

without saying excuse me

making no eye contact

but connected at the root

I could get used to climbing several flights of old stairs

crossing the street to do laundry

alongside big butt menopausal women with graying locs

people cursing each other

in front of China King

and Ma’s old stoop

watching the cat who sleeps curled up in the barber shop window

in the afternoon sun

I could bloom here

in the cold

like a winter rose without thorns

trusting the universe to protect me

from danger

in this concrete soil

rising