28th day

the blood
is speaking...

the blood
is speaking...
preaching around my shame,
exposing what i refuse to admit;
inciting me to pray
for a love i desire
but don't believe i'll ever have

because that purity is gone
forever
and
i can't unbreak my heart
can't undo
what he's done
or erase the mistakes
of the other
i am forever unlovable
irredeemable
in the eyes
of any man;
too strong
a fortress...

i don't dare
dream those drams,
voice those incantations

even when i know
can't is the worst
four letter word
stealin' my power,
untyin' my gris gris...

i know it.

the blood
pools into a garnet mirror
forcing me to face my true need,
fk what i settle for.

instructing me
to train my thoughts,
rearrange the soul-ache;
dig into my heart,
massage it with my own hands.

i know
i know

i
know
i have to stop this train
before it wrecks itself.

the blood is telling me
to let go
turn my fears into swords
pierce my heart and
let the bad blood out
so the golden light
of Her mantle can enter 
fresh from the deep, dark knowing.

mama audre told us about that knowing,
put the blood on the page

and mine,
like hers,
pulses in my ears,
understanding
my need for truth
trumps the egotistical denials
and petty concerns...

knows
i'm bigger than any fear

so,
it wades
through the bullshit
stuns me into stillness
and forces me
to listen.

witching hour

draped in blue and black

candles lit here and there
like points of starlight

honeyed altars
casting spells
lighting patterns
granting wishes

frankincense
myrrh

open patio
and window

front door negotiations
and parking lot whispers
punctuated
by distant train whistles

cassandra wilson
sings over
a nearly sultry october night
the circle is never broken...

a summery breath
before halloween
brings cool spirits

wishing for love
settling for the decadence
of my own company

the joys
of peppermint soap
and shower steam

my magic
makes me feel
at home.

note:

do not decry my lack of "femininity" when you hold me awkwardly, afraid of your own heart.

model tenderness, and maybe i'll show you my spirit.

moonshine

mama moon is workin' me somethin fierce...

she forces my tears, pushes me to feel the pain inflicted by the ignorance and insensitivity of the world, while illuminating who we truly are...

who we could still be
if we would only open our eyes. wide.

i almost threw myself back under the covers today.

but...no.

not even amid whispers and shouts of...

you brown, so you down, but hide your love from me. i don't wanna see its face.

you betta learn to slap that girl to make her mind.

yeah. i'm fked up. but that's just me, tho. i'll deal with it. whatchu mean i gotta think about how my pain affects the planet's energy? fk outta here. i'm aight. i'm aight.

mama africa is the source of EVERYTHING! ...except that.

stop bein so grown. who you think you is? hmph. you ain't special.

if you gotta drop of tha blood, you gotta be all black everything. all day. all the time. everywhere in the world. but you gotta be black like THIS, tho.  that other shit don't count.

always actin like yo daddy.

why can't you/they/he/she just deal with it?

i'll take rest,
but silence is too much.

we're still caught in this matrix of face saving and half truth telling.

of intellectualizing with no heart or spirit.

of keeping women locked in prisons of queendom and false righteousness.

of keeping men frozen in their own despair.

of keeping everyone between the binary invisible. 

of obsessing over lack and sex acts, blocking visions of abundance and variety.

we are microcosms
of the universe
if we are not healed
our mother will remain angry
and broken.

there is beauty in the struggle
in the ugly
in the figuring out
in the inbetween
...but only if we live unadulterated truth.

shackles do not only surround the feet and mind
they can lock down the heart and spirit.
or have you forgotten?

are you stuck somewhere,
heart still in chains,
afraid to grow, 
afraid to see?

why?
why?
why?

mother's tongues

my soul
is coated in patois
with a tongue longing to dance
in geechee pidgin
by way of a yoruba village.

even
french
spanish
and portuguese
ring a bell...

but english
feels like an unfortunate circumstance;
an accident
forced upon me
for the sake of someone's convenience.

desire

i wanna sleep
and dream of magic...

{inspiration}

today.

giving thanks.
absorbing.
reflecting.
listening.

dancing to the songs in this moment and wondering where the steps are leading me. what the sound is teaching me.

consciousness stream

me.
now:

enamored
glamoured
warm/warming to touch
in progress/evolving
blessed with a song
affected, deeply.