the tips of her hair coil

delicately as each strand twists bountifully from its root

head up –

with the most piercing 

naked eye

dividing the story 

from its origin

and trusting 

the wisdom behind

her eyes to represent 

the melanin

plunging down around her

full facial features 

kissings her plump lips just to dribble down her chin

and swirl around her

stately neck

from which collar

bones stem


to reach the tips of her shoulders

round and stern

sitting parallel to the ground 

that she walked 

with each step her chest 

taps and her breasts freely

express their 

natural prowess

in their purest form

in front of the two eyes 

that are placed carefully

just about reaching 

the crux of her waistline

where the skin travels 

around, cascading a caffeinated  shade of brown 

atop of prominent muscles 

churning and sore 

from all of the strength that it takes to keep the life experience

that this woman may abhor

Starr Baker

April 15, 2015.


A Creature of Love

Since love to me is unconditional acceptance I understand myself deeply

and I accept all the flaws that this body holds

They are the beauty in me

My beauty is in my expression

and also in what I hold internally.

My beauty is the feeling of appreciating myself.

From the stubbornness

to the generousness

and back again.

I love the way I react

I love the way I view the individual as a symbol of divine power and meaning in this life

I love the way music speaks to me and I retract a message to add to my journey
I am grateful to know.

I am grateful to be.

I am grateful to love.

All of this love that is given to me and received by me

Is that of purity.

Can it be defined?

Well, I do try

But the English language could never reveal the hidden valleys of my mind.

So, trust me now

To hold your heart

And treat it as I do my own

A precious intangible ray of gold. Gold that continues to stream and to shine…

That creates many allusions to my mind

I am blessed to be a creature of love.

My actions resonate the spirit of giving and receiving; from which I extract invaluable wealth.

I am endowed with a pure and loving power, more kindly, an influence, to all.

Including myself.


Starr Baker

November 25, 2014

All Of Me.

You don’t see the world through my eyes.

So how could you expect to find my place in this world? 

You could only do so through eyes of your own. 

Which would make that observation,

a projection of your perspective,

on to me.

 Which would make me more of the person that you 

want me to be, 

and less of the person that I am.

And, most of all,

Would make me unfaithful to the side of myself,

that you cannot see.

The side I have to face

every night before I sleep.

And so that place in the world, 

in which you believe I fit, 

would actually be fit for a part of you

Instead of for all of me. 


My biggest hope for the next generation is that there is no singular life path that they are pressured to conform to. No more predetermined rules, you make your own. No right or wrong way to live. No reason to pursue the life ahead of you, other than your undivided devotion to yourself and your vision.

They will be told:

 “Write your own ticket. You know what you’re passionate about, so go after it, be smart, and stay vigilant.”

The best part about your ticket is that nobody knows what it looks like other than you. Until your ticket is shared, and until the ticket is expressed through your own self, nobody has a clue what your ticket looks like. Only you can either choose or write your ticket, because this ticket is meant only for you, and lives only as long as all of you does.

Instead of being told that their passion isn’t worth pursuing or considering because it doesn’t make enough money, or doesn’t provide enough jobs. That philosophy is a product of the capitalist society that we will undermine. As long as you have passion, be smart, and stay vigilant – trust in yourself to follow your vision. Trust that in following the path that was carved for you, by you, fruits will be reaped from your labor. There is a job and a career that is meant for you – that you have the potential to consistently excel in. You must find it for yourself.

Once you do, don’t ever let anybody put a glass ceiling on your vision for your life.

It’s not worth it.



The Ballad of the Voice of Black Power

The screams of his mother

are the screams of my brother.

You have just killed me.

You may not see it in my face.

I have been dying for years.

What gave it away was the muffled cries of my children.

They see what you are doing to me,

and they see how you will do it to them.

 but do you even care?

Do you feel guilty?

Do you see the monster you’ve created?

You think you have created me. 

You think I am the monster.

You have made me think I am the monster.

But I outlive your very conception,

And I’m strong enough to

devour the monster that you are,

Then teach my children the beauty of who I am.

because my God is so gracious,

my children know the truth.

They know about this system,

And they know what they will do.

through them I will never die.

through them I have eternal life.

but what will happen,

if you kill them,

what will happen to me?

My spirit is strong.

but it needs to take form,

it needs to be seen,

it need not cower.

Without them I am voiceless,

Without them I don’t exist.

But that is want you want.

You want me to die.


I am alive.

I have been revived in the very moment that I realize.

You are not strong enough to kill me.

Maybe just parts of me.

And you will think you’re winning.
I know this is just the beginning.

There is a part of me that you have never seen,

a part of me that is unable to be killed

that even if you bury

 will come back to life.

And through my children,

This part of me is born.

You can never kill them.

You can never kill them.

They are human representations

Of Me.

This poem was inspired by and in tribute to the families and lives of Alton Sterling, Philando Castile, and Dylan Noble. Justice will be ours. More than just another hashtag.

Black Femininity


Black femininity.

What an epitome

Trifecta of legitimacy.
Black femininity.
What it means
To be careful, but
and still, carefree.
Remember to never pity me,
I’m stronger than you’ll ever be.
If I am not proof of my strength,
then the proof be in my essence;
And if not that,
 then see it in my very presence.
See, many chains that have been placed on me,
some invisible and some obsolete.
None of them are any match for me
When me becomes we
Through the spirit we all breathe:
Black femininity. 
The thread that runs through us all,
coarse and poignant,
sturdy and salient.
And through this thread,
A voice is restored
that tells a story,
written by us,
on our own accord.
We speak on images
Of a true history
and see them as
the root of our present.
it is raw,
riveting, and violent
But we have just begun to tell it –
so waste no time
telling us to be silent.

Black Power

I see the struggle

in your eyes

 as you run around 

walk the town

“fuckin his bitch,”

“hittin these licks,” or even 

hearing that SHIT 

that they put on the news

my brothers and sisters 

you must be confused

we come from the finest

of knowledge, substance, and jewels

but they fail to pump this 

eminent truth into the souls of the black youth…

you are robbed of culture

raped, stolen, appropriated 

but look forward.
When you do,

just don’t let them blind you.

they only teaching their triumph

and thus we’re forced to put our hands up 

and see our innocent Black palms stained by guilty verdict,

See our brother detained detained cause a lady thought that he would hurt her, 

an interaction with an officer turns into a murder.

Dear God,

What is our worth?

And what can we do to preserve it?
at the end of the day

we can always say

our melanin is powerful

cause it is strong to be Black

yes, our power is so powerful, that 

we need to take it back.

If Purple Kisses Are Your Muse

If purple kisses are your muse,
And the smell of love,

your perfume.

then your eyes fall upon me

As I can be what you need

complex, but free.
ardent & steep.
invitingly deep.

If poetry at night is your tune,

to fall asleep to,

and your window faces the east

where the sky is pure blue

And the grass is green & vast,

And life outside of your window doesn’t move too fast.
Sun glowing against the smudges

Of plum on your neck

the warmth beaming from your chest

sweet taste of burgundies

On your sheets

& on my lips

My eyes closed

but i can see

beneath my finger tips

I feel the sea

the shells,

your thighs,

Sing songs to me

Saying that life by the ocean is

Where i need to be