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.

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