Seattle, WA
Poet, blogger, lawyer, educator, sista, sister, aunt, daughter, mentor, friend, dog owner, lover of music and all things gluten free... Writing about all of this and more.

Saturday, October 31, 2009


Did you know jazz could dance?
and poetry could sing
and music could paint pictures and bring
brilliant color to a still life black and white?
Have you seen brown arms waving stories into the night
writing memories in the sky?
In my mind’s eye
It all comes together
And tastes like cinnamon and curry
Smells like mint leaves and shea butter
Feels warm, soft, strong, like an un-ripened plum
Sounds like water
Looks like beauty
It is simply and truly


dark waters bubble and mix
weigh bright eyes heavy
dim their fire
warm within like humid, april air in ghana
thick and uneasy
cool outside like still, stale november chills in seattle
where's my quiet warming?

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

the stuff of dreams

so, a group of friends and i have formed a small group to encourage each other and be resources to one another as we seek to identify and accomplish an ambitious goal. (then we created a blog about it. wanna see it? here it goes.)

at the time of posting this, the front page of that blueprint chronicles blog has my most recent contribution. writing that post took forever. i was whizzing on through, writing about dreams and dreaming and dreaminess, all of that good stuff, when all of a sudden i came upon the part where i had to write about my own darn dreams, and that's where it all seemed to come to a stand still.

for one thing, in that post i opened up about the fact that i've been having these dreams lately in which i see my parents. either i'm interacting with them or they are away from me and i just see them from afar, or something. this is a very weird experience for me, seeing them in my dreams and then waking up to the reality of their absence. i won't get into all of that too much more. that post can be read here.

all this talk of dreams has me re-reading robin d g kelley's book, freedom dreams: the black radical imagination. it also has me looking back at old journal entries in which i recorded my dreams. boy, i tell you, some of them are pretty heavy. but since i've already done heavy for the day (or maybe the week), here's something lighter: a poem i wrote after meeting someone who ended up being in my life for a while. he and i had a 6-hour-long conversation sitting outside my dorm room at howard u., in the middle of the night. i walked into my room, saw that the sun was up, sat down, and wrote this, among a few other pieces:

last night i sat awake and dreamed
that i could capture my feelings into a sweet pill
enrapture you in the sweet thrill of my emotions
i dreamed i made a potion for you to drink
that would anchor your heart and sink it
to the bottom of your shoe
weighing you in love for me
could this be?

it's a little cheesy maybe, but aw, i think that's sweet. i wrote it september 28 2001... over 8 years ago! wow, time is something else. i hope my friend is doing well these days.

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

poetry, oh how i miss thee (and other random things)

so this is a very random post, but i haven't been posting lately so i thought i'd just jump on in. i have also neglected poetry lately, and plan to return home tomorrow by either a) spending some quality time with a pen and pad, b) spending some quality time at the spitfire spoken word/open mic joint, or c) both. will follow up on the blog about that afterwards.

so here are some updates. first, i started working a new gig, something i really like and will discuss in further detail in the near future, God willing. i also took on a new personal project with some girlfriends--a goals/support group that involves doing big things and chronicling our process of goal-achievement. it's pretty dern awesome, 'f I do say so mu'self. check that out at The Blueprint Chronicles Blog. we just got started a few days ago so you have time to catch up. it's sure to be a heck of a ride. i will be blogging tomorrow at noon, pacific time, fyi.

and what else is going on? well, i'm preparing for what is traditionally a tough portion of the year for me--november. my birthday is the 4th, and i usually am very intentional about celebrating life and giving thanks for it on that day, but i also always miss my mom, and now my dad, on that day. also november marks the 7th anniversary of my mom's passing away and thanksgiving, a holiday for which family is the centerpiece. i put all of this out there not for sympathy, but more for prayers, and also as a way to acknowledge the challenges to come but remind myself that that's all they are: inevitable challenges that i'll get through and be ok afterward. we all have those.

somehow it all goes back to the garden, lately. it's like this: i planted some bulbs the other day, beating the fall frost by just a few days. anticipating the days where i'll potentially be hit by grief, acknowledging that, and deciding to look ahead to the days afterward is kind of like that. i know better stuff will come along in the future. and i also don't know just how frosty the frost will be. who knows? maybe seattle will see a little taste of some more warm weather before we jump into the cold and rain that makes us appreciate our beautiful summers so much. either way, there shall be tulips this march. and there will be poetry tomorrow. and there will be sleep tonight!

Sunday, October 18, 2009

Happy Birthday CJ!

Happy birthday to Clarence in Africa! Love and miss you! You are my brother from another mother. Speaking of which, I stole your phone number from your mom :) Be blessed today. Hugs.

Monday, October 12, 2009

Diaspora Man

This is something I wrote about 5 years ago after a seriously eye opening conversation with someone who ended up becoming a good friend of mine. Although clearly I was crushing on him a little at the time I wrote this! This is the first half of the poem. I gotta board my flight back home, will finish up when I return. But I wanted to put something out there after my extended absence from the blogosphere. Peace!

Warm brother smothers me with poetry like prose
His locks, his cloths, his whole being just flows with music
And I could listen to it intro to bonus track
A creative opus that got me leaning my head back

Diaspora man can I touch foreign lands with you?
Speaking of travel, could I maybe hold hands with you?
In other words, fly me to the moon
Where we'll sing songs of revolution set to the jazzy tune of my heart
In other words, their in the tune of this art form
Sung smooth and low so they slowly make my heart warm

Like ripe mango on African fruit stands and loving smiles
Like a lazy afternoon that got me Dizzy runnin Miles from my cares
Of all the pairs of eyes I've met this lifetime
I've never seen two so different and yet so like mine...

(More to continue... thanks for reading!)