Black Joy

I need more joy,
Inside my world,
My spirit in need of uplift, of sustenance,
So many tales of those dark skinned like me,
Being taken for granted,
lives taken,
so many brothers, sisters
in need of reminder
that black is beautiful,
and also of joy,

Sweet Land of Liberty

My country tis of thee
Sweet land of liberty
Of hate I sing,
Of fascism and violence,
White supremacy born,
This is what you’ve always shown,
Only victims see,
Your ideals are ideas,
your system, systemic
oh sweet land
my criticizicism biting
my love enduring
for what you have yet to be,
for what I believe remains possible,
sweet land of liberty

Stacey Abrams

I am pigmented,
My color sets me apart, casts me out,
Of inclusion to this monolith of democracy,
Where I must work for a right that is supposedly given,
I cast my ballot,
And feel the power in the pen
In the slide as it is counted,
And the anxiety over whether it’s really included,

My selection wins,
And still opposition demands more,
A recount, a means, a way,
Of disqualifying me and the like-minded voters,
We must barter for peace as our representatives confirm
The process is
Just one more ballot,
One more hanging chad,
One more missed mark to prove something is amiss,

But a black man won the seat in Georgia,
Damn now she’s colored blue,
Just one more recount,
One more way to trick the eye,
That won’t stop watching,
That has been trained not to trust,
From centuries of color-coded democratic process,
Featuring parlor tricks of poll taxes,
Id laws,
Limited sites to do your civic duty,
Threats of,
And Death,
Ancestors knew all of it,
So show me a true patriot,
She doesn’t need horns nor face paint,
To show her warrior pose.

Coup Attempt

And then there was insurrection
At our front door,
Capital rushed,
And terrorists waltzed in,
Blanketed in white-
Privilege overfloweth,
Flags of treason flown on government stairs,
Be not fooled by shock,
The symptoms have long endured,
For the plague that is the cure,
Exposing the white supremacy
Rooted therein

God is a Woman

My mind is on overdrive,
But this isn’t insomnia,
I’ve found more of myself,
in the mystical,
in sage and clover,
my third eye is opened,
discovering the layers here, there, and in between,
a new world has been opened to me,
eclectic in my ways,
I find myself taking the long way,
Back to what I found as only a child,
Back to basics,
Where and when
God is a woman