Boys

I'm not interested in...boys

Give me a man that can hold me down

Who can rock the earth with strong fingers digging into the ground

I like the ones who can hold me on their shoulder and their masculinity on the other

Who knows how to walk with his back straight and talk like the god that he is

With his dirty, work-swollen hands resting on my thigh; anticipating what's gonna be his

Who wants a strong woman with a fire that can burn down walls and melt his own heart

A man that can implant a strong seed of truth and knowledge; not just babies

Whose word is his bond, but with an awareness of imperfection

Who can say that he loves me without saying a word

That can build up walls of protection around me and the ones who call him daddy.

A man who can submit to God

A man that I can respect

A freak, a spiritual leader, and a friend all in one.

Who loves his mom, honors his father, and who knows himself

Who holds up the letters that make "I AM" with a picture of his spirit behind it.

Secret Lives

A tip toe into darkness or into light
A slipping of the eye towards another existence
A fulfillment of one's true nature that was once withheld
Another reality opposing the dream that is now

Express Lane

God, here is my list.

Don't forget to double check it.

These are the things that I want to get done.

I want only one child, only that, just one.

Right after I say my wedding vows

At the good ole' age of 30, but not now.

Send my future husband this way.

I don't really want to wait, can I have him today?

And right after I get my PhD

I'd like a really nice job and a house--would you, please?

I want all of this by the time I'm thirty-two

Then, I'll credit all of my success to you.

Maybe I'll start a business or write a few books

And by the time I'm 50, don't let me lose my looks!

By 65 I'll definitely be ready to retire

 I'll pack my things, fulfilled but tired.

My child would have gone to college and started their career.

I'll be on the beach drinking an ice, cold beer.

By 70 I'll be old, but still strong as ever.

Enjoying my family and our holidays together.

From then on out, do with me as you wish.

But please, oh please you must go faster than this!

I have so much to do, in so little time.

God, my clock is ticking, but I don't mean to whine.

It's just that life is short, as I'm sure you know.

How in the world am I going to finish my goals?

I want a career, a family, a house, and a car.

Why on earth does these seem so far?

And one more thing that I forgot to mention.

Could you speak to me audibly, so that I may listen?

Unique

Smooth, brown skin with dark pebbled, almond eyes

Long lashes with full lips

Long legs with small hips

Black, matted hair; my long locs

Toned, elongated arms attached to beautiful, strong shoulders.

Warm, peculiar face.

Like the spine of a cat, I stretch and my body curves.

The Thing I Miss

My eyes staring back at me in the mirror without seeing a reflection of a mask

My shirt unbuttoned and my hair lose, just to appreciate my rawness

The tender skin of my cheek resting on my knee

Being under the tall, lush tree in my back yard

Appreciating the smell of late spring filling my senses

Walking barefoot on earthy pavement without feeling any guilt

But these things do not compare to what I miss the most

What I miss the most is an understanding of who I am

An intimate relationship with my own heart and mind

Playing in the wild jungles of the world instead of searching in them

Loving who I am as I did when I was small

When I was small, I feared nothing; not even myself.

That is the thing I miss the most. 

I Can Feel this Thing (Poem)

I can feel this thing called "wind"

The wind of change is wrapping its arms around me

It's whispering in my ear saying "now, you can blossom"

How did it know that it was buried deep in my soul?

How did it know that I needed it to shine out like morning dawn through mists?

Finally, I can begin the process of sweeping out the mess from my temple

Now, I can breathe; lifting my head from underneath the water

The dark cloud has lifted and I've decided to continue living in spite of hurt.

Happiness is a choice.

I can feel this thing...

Poem: Dark Skin, Kinky Hair

They ask why do I present myself in a manner

But I can't get any tanner

Cause' I was born with this skin

My soul is within and that's what I truly represent

Should I repent because of the way I look?

Should I resent all the scars that my people took?

What I see in the mirror, it can't get any clearer that I have dark skin and kinky hair

Yeah, others may stare

But I'm gorgeous on and underneath

All that matters is what's underneath this sheet; this skin

They lend me their comments on why my hair's not straight

They give me their bate, expecting me to take it

But I'll just break it because they don't know me...

All they could see is my dark skin and kinky hair

But I don't care, even though others may snare

Because my afro puff is my crown and my dark skin a gown that's forever stuck to me

A gift made of shining ebony

I wear it constantly no matter where I go and no matter where I be

Thieves are out to steal my joy

But they can't have it cause' I'm a warrior; African princess, they try to resist this

So they market relaxers; contractors for hiding my identity.

When all I want to be is me; A woman of dark skin and kinky hair

Without it I'm bare

So many cares on making straight roots

But I choose to keep my naps

They're my caps of natural beauty

So tired of us being defined by just our booty

Big breasts and hips

That's what you see on video clips

But what about our hair?

Our blood runs thick like our hair

But what about our hair?

Why should I be ashamed of my black, nappy, kinky hair?

It's a part of who I am; A part of who I be; Deep like the sea

My roots run deep like the sea; My natural hair

Symbolic of nature and metaphorically represents a pureness

Virgin like olive oil

More earthy than underneath the summer grass

So you can ask why I present myself in such a manner

And it's because I was born with this skin

My soul is within and that's what I truly represent

Should I repent or resent who I am as a person--

Because I got dark skin and kinky hair?

Other's may stare and maybe even hate my identity; Because I'm me--

Not an ordinary color of your average rainbow

It's not long and straight down my back but it's a fact that I got kinky hair

It's a part of being black; Afro-American

I...am...Afro-American.