Thursday, September 30, 2010

hello, all. :)

i'm currently reacquainting myself with the boy in the cupboard under the stairs. it's been a lovely few days.

when i was eleven and in the cupboard under the stairs, he made the dark seem a little less scary. but i guess some books are like that.

join me?

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

she was my baby.

and i would give you to have her back.

Sunday, September 26, 2010

jumbalaya dreamin'.

i closed my eyes and
pretended that I
was in louisiana,
closed my eyes and
breathed in sticky air
humid and hot
weighty with hope, and
thought of new orleans,
turn of the century

closed my eyes, and
listened to that hum,
pretended that creole boy
was singing just for me. 


looks just like this.

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

he told her

that a mother will give up on her daughter, but not her son.

Monday, September 6, 2010

this land.

this is my land.

i have no deeds, no certificates
no men in dark suits witnessed me 
sign my name to stiff sheets of paper,
weighed down with life's work.

but this is my land.

and i claim it.

i was not forced, beaten, chained
traded, enslaved, betrayed
pushed out and pulled at
until cheeks caved 
inward on themselves, until wills did,
giving up and turning grey.

but this is my land

and i claim it. 

this is not the land where my
father's fathers laid first foot
and my mother's sweat was spilled,
where my ancestors afterbirth was dropped
into soil,
but this is my land. 

and i claim it. 

because here, my head was raised
these stars, my eyes have gazed
as hey turned and changed
from infants baby blue to toddler's hazy grey,
to young woman's soft brown

i know these stars
i know this moon
i know this grass
i know these trees

and this is my land.