My Black Rose

My black rose

That’s what you are to me

So unique

Such a beauty to watch unfold

When you graced me with your presence

I knew my world would never be the same

My life is now dedicated to you

Ensuring you have everything you need

Watering you and nurturing you

Watching you grow daily

Into the person you are meant to be

And need to be

My black rose

The Golden Hour

Photographer: Kai Curlin

The golden hour

My favorite time of the day

I revel in her beauty

As she looks at me

The sun hits her eyes and

Highlights the light brown orbs

Against her chestnut skin

And she smiles

Brighter than the glow on her face

She is mine and I give thanks

At the golden hour

Death Doesn’t Discriminate

Photo Inspiration: Leslie Odom Jr in Hamilton

Death doesn’t discriminate between the sinners and the saints.

As Leslie Odom Jr. sings the words on stage

during Hamilton,

I am filled with questions.

If death does not discriminate,

Why do we hate it so much?

In death eyes there’s equality in all lives,

But in the churches filled with our cries,

We can’t help but to ask,


Why didn’t death wait for this one?

This life that was so pure and innocent.

Still with years to grow, lessons to learn, and a few heartbreaks.

Why didn’t death wait?

Even if it was just one more day.

A day that could be spent showering with

Love and affection.

Promises and held back tears.

Until the time to say goodbye and once again be filled with questions of why.

Awaiting a satisfactory response, but

the response will always be the same.

Death doesn’t discriminate.

Oya’s Dance

Photo Inspiration: Oya and Shango

She called to him during the storm

As the tornados twirled and the winds howled

She danced for him

Draped in his color of red

Hints of skin showing

She enticed him with her movements

The jewels on her anklet played a tune as they shook

Calling for him to join her

In the rain, as the tornados twirled, and the

Winds howled

She called to him

And with the sound of thunder

While riding in on a lightning bolt

He answered

Not My Independence Day

As the colorful display lights the sky

And God Bless America plays

Take a moment to remember

Remember that on this day

A day that many people celebrate

It is also a day that not everyone can relate

Relate to the feeling of pride and freedom

Love for a battle won

That battle won was only for some

Those melanated Kings and Queens were still

In chains

Destined to sacrifice for another 2 years

And years to come as the physical became mental prisons and modern day lynchings

Replace the plantation with projects

Slave masters with white supremacists with a badge

Throw in the school to prison pipeline

and most importantly

Separate the King’s from the Queens

As long as they are not together America shall have its freedom

After all 3/5ths of a person couldn’t possibly need freedom

So yes, let the fireworks shower across the sky and God Bless America play


The Lady At The Savoy

Photo Inspiration: Josephine Baker

I remember the first time I heard her sing

She walked on stage with the confidence of a Queen

Her skin was the color of coffee mixed with the right amount of cream

Finger waves graced her hair giving us a different version of Josephine Baker

The red dress she wore fitted her perfectly and stopped just at the ankles with matching heels

As her hand wrapped around the microphone, everyone silenced to hear her speak

The lights dimmed and the spotlight was on her

Witn a smooth sultry voice she welcomed us to the Savoy

The teasing of her eyes let us know we were in for a treat

The sway of her hips showed she was no stranger to a beat

And the singing reaching our ears had us all on our feet

We danced song after song

Until all too soon she thanked us for coming out

I left that night memorized by the beauty in the red dress and sultry voice

Years later it still brings me to my feet 

Every Sunday after dinner in the middle of the living room floor

I put on a tune

Hold her close in my arms

And she sings to me

Just like she did when she was

The lady at the Savoy

Admiring You

As the sun begins to rise

I take this time to examine you in the

Quietness of the morning

Dark hair cut to precision with a bevy of waves

Smooth dark brown skin that reminds me of

The homemade chocolate candy I made with my grandmother

Dark thick eyebrows with cocaine slits showing your down south side

Slim nose that flairs out into Jackson 5 nostrils as Beyoncé calls them

Heart shape lips that look not only delectable, but reveals the most warming smile I’ve ever seen

And as I look up my heart skips a beat at my favorite part of you

Dark piercing eyes stare back at me

I’m in love all over again

Loving A Blues Man

Photo Inspiration: The legendary Robert Johnson

Black like licorice

Which I hate

Except when it’s in the form of you

Black like the berry

Which I think are so tart

Except when I get a taste of you

Black like the bruise on my heart

The same bruise you created when you left

Something you said you would never do

You and I were meant to be

A forever kinda love

Dancing through life to the sound of

Your guitar and down home blues

In the French quarter at the stroke of midnight

With the Baron playing his wicked tricks

On unsuspecting tourists

We’d pass by laughing at his naughty ways

Those days are long gone

Now there’s countless nights where I whisper your name on a falling star

Tears cascading down my face

For a love never to be returned and never replaced

A love that is loss from a cruel sickness called fame

That reached inside and took ahold of your very being

Causing you to make a deal that

Would sacrifice everything we believed in

Legba’s hold on you is something I just can’t fight

He took your soul and my promises of forever

Breaking my heart

As I watch you run off at sundown clutching your guitar

With the sound of hellhounds chasing you into the night

Letter To America



I am fed up.

Fed up with being expected to lead your battles

While staying silent for mine.

Mine that consist of the countless black men and women fallen victim to senseless Killings by police officers.


This is the part where someone says, “Melanin, black on black crime is a thing.”

Honey, of course black on black crime is a thing.

What do you expect in a neighborhood that is predominantly black?

Just like in white neighborhoods.

Now let me tell you the difference.

The spotlight is on the black neighborhoods.


Because the hood is a project,

The project is a trap,

In the words of A1 Juug Trap Lives Matter.

In the eyes of the creator of the trap

Trap lives don’t matter.

Insert the flooding of drugs and weapons being used to turn the hood to a war zone.

Destined to kill the rose that grew from concrete,

But how can you stop the rose from growing back

When the roots are embedded deep in the soil?

You can’t.

Just like you cannot continue to expect us to be silent,

While watching our brothers, sisters, and children’s lives be taken.

Although silence is golden,

That silence ends now.

Look For Me

Artist Unknown

Look for me in the East

As the cool breeze fans your face

On a peaceful fall night

Listen to the leaves crackle around you

As they dance about the yard

Watch the flames burn bright in the fire pit

As the warmth fills your body

Wish on a shooting star

As it flies across the sky

In the center of that moment

Is where you’ll find me

Visions of our happiness

And thoughts of our love

A love I’ll always have for you

In sickness and in health

Reaching the universe above