Rebirth Of A Phoenix

As the weight of the world consumes me

And I lay quietly sinking into oblivion

A faint voice whispers in my ear,

“Who are you?

I have never met you before.

I’m sure I would remember you.

A child so lost and broken.

Where did you come from ?”

The voice continues as I sink deeper and deeper

Feeling my body consumed with fire and finally

Overtaken as my eyes close

Only to awaken anew

And to the voice I answer,

“I am a descendant of you.

No longer lost and broken.

I have risen from the ashes of the Phoenix.

Rejuvenated and Reborn.

One Last Time (Writing Prompt)

She gripped the rim of the porcelain sink and tried to steady her hands

“One last time,” she whispered to herself.

One. Last. Time

Before the banging came on the door and startled her. This has been going on for 10 years. 10 years too many. She wanted out, She needed out. By any means necessary.

“Get out here,” his angry voice projected through the door.

She jumped again at the sound out it.

“Just a minute,” she yelled while taking one last look at her bruise covered body in the mirror and adjusting the object in her mouth.

Opening the door, she was greeted by the slap she felt time and time again. So used to it, she was now numb to the feeling.

“What took you so long,” he grabbed her, “you think you leaving me?”

With her head down she whispered she was just getting fresh for him. Walking over to the bed, she felt his eyes on her so she put an extra sway in her hips before lowering to her knees and waiting for him. He had conditioned her to be his submissive.

Standing over her, she felt him pat her head as if she was a trained dog before laying on the bed and saying, “good girl, you may please me now.”

This time she would be the one pleased in the end.

Climbing on top of him, she began kissing him slowly while rubbing him just the way he liked. When she saw his eyes close she knew it was time to make her move.

Leaning in to place a final kiss on his neck, she slid the blade between her teeth and swiped as hard as she could tasting the blood in the process.

His eyes shot open as he clutched his throat attempting to stop the blood. She began laughing hysterically as she sliced his body over and over with the blade now in her hand. His body and hers were drenched in blood, but with no movement coming from him she knew she was free.

Free from the beatings and mental abuse.

Closing her eyes she felt at peace. Peace that ended at the banging of a hand on the door.

Opening her eyes she was back at the sink clutching it to steady her hands.

One. Last. Time

The World Shall Know My Name

After being up painting (I’m a beginner but I’m loving it), I felt like writing. Naturally I had to pair it with what I created.

I just want the world to know my name like Basquiat or Kara Walker

Minus the graffiti and silhouettes

Stun the world with abstract visions until they think I’ve done my best

Then tell em I ain’t done yet

Putting my paint brush down for a pen

Creating message after message

Planting seeds to help my people win

Because you see,

One day on common ground we must all meet

It’s enough out here for everyone to eat

We not the crabs in the bucket

We’re the Kings and Queens

With the heart of the lion and lioness

Broken free from the chains

Destined for greatness

Like the ancestors that left writings on the walls

Our actions will do the same for those next in line

And after I’m gone and my many greats say my name

It’ll be followed by words such as this:

My many many Great-Grandmother was an artist. She created abstract visions that stunned the world like Basquiat and Kara Walker. Minus the graffiti and silhouettes of course. When she wasn’t painting she was writing. Some would describe her as woke and others would say passionate. A conversation with her was always full revolutionary topics and funny jokes, but at the end of the day she was for her people and the people are for her. So when I say her name, I say it pride. Be a use of her, I come from greatness and now the world knows her name.

I’ve Changed

Artist Unknown

She said I changed

Once I became “woke” our friendship hasn’t been the same

She’s right

I have changed

The person I was ten years ago is no longer me

That is not the person I am meant to be

Like the caterpillar I had to evolve

Needing to break out of my cocoon and spread my wings

Soaring high

Through pillows of clouds in search of blue skies

Opening up visions of a new reality of raising

Little black boys and girls in a world that’s taught to fear them or use them for some agenda

Fighting to teach them that although they were raised in the trap they can buy the hood back

Replacing the liquor stores and one to many churches

With necessary youth centers and healthcare services

Going back to the days of the Black Panthers model of security and community involvement

Before the blueprint was stolen and they became a target

My families blood run deep through the roots of the struggle

And as a descent of them I must continue on the path of what they fought so hard for

They made me who I am and I will never be ashamed

So if that means somewhere in life I’ve changed and we will never be the same

Be thankful for the season the universe has blessed us with and pray that one day

Our paths may meet again

Love From The Projects

Photo taken by photographer William Gedney

There’s love in the projects

Maybe not all roses and fairytales

But there is love

I remember waking up on summer days

Just waiting to see who was coming out to play

Red Rover Red Rover send my friends over

Then we’d red light green light all over the neighborhood

Before joining the girls to sing about Little Sally Walker sitting in her saucer

Man those were good times

Standing in the front yards

Watching the sunset and betting who’d catch

The most lightning bugs

And slapping every body part bitten by mosquitos

Signaling the day was over but there would be many more to come

Until

Finally waving goodbye after years have passed

Not knowing that everything was changing

The friends that became family will now be strangers

Greetings become awkward

Smiles become forced

Goodbyes become rushed

While internally you just want

To go back to the way things used to be

Red rover, red rover bring that feeling back

Red light the changes that the distance brought

And tell little Sally Walker to never rise from her saucer

Then things wouldn’t have to end yet

You’ll continue to feel the love from the projects.

Short Story: The Murder of William “Froggie” James

Cairo, IL.

November 11, 1909- Cairo, IL. 

William “Froggie” James was a dashing young man. Tall and dark with a body full of muscles. Many women wanted him, but he only had eyes for his Sandra. They had been together for some time now and would be getting married soon. 

Walking down the streets of Cairo, IL, he was filled with such pride. Black people had come a long way, but still had a ways to go. White folks still had a short fuse just looking for someone to blow up on. He made sure to steer clear of them when he could. 

As he came upon a building, he heard a scream. Something told him to keep walking, but it was a woman and he didn’t want to leave her helpless. As he got ready to go inside, his friend Alexander came barreling out, almost knocking him over and continued up the road.  Venturing inside he saw feet from someone on the ground that eventually revealed a young white woman. Fear filled him like never before and he dashed away from there. 

Once he made it home, he slammed the door as his love came out of the kitchen. 

“What’s wrong,” she rushed to him when she noticed the look on his face. 

“I found,” he struggled to get his words out, “white girl dead.”

Sandra felt a chill come over her, “Did anybody see you?”

He merely shook his head no. 

“Good,” she started to pace, “You didn’t do it right?”

“Of course I didn’t,” he yelled at the top of his lungs.

“We have to get out of town.” She started gathering their belongings. 

William frowned, “I did nothing wrong!”

“You think they care!” She shouted. 

Just then loud knocking came at the door. 

“Come on out William,” they heard the voice of the well known sheriff. 

“I didn’t do it,” William said as he opened the door. 

The sheriff had been kind to him many times. 

“People say they saw you running away from where a girl was found dead,” the sheriff pulled out his cuffs, “It’s better for me to take you in now before anyone else comes after you.”

William took a look a Sandra, “Stay here and don’t let anyone in.”

Tears fell as she watched them drive off. Dark clouds hung over the town. Destruction was coming. 

Just as the sheriff was booking in William, a mob had formed outside. They were demanding that William be released to them for revenge. 

Not knowing what else to do, the Sheriff snuck out the back and drove William out of town. He hoped to stay there until things calmed down. That never happened. 

In the middle of the night, they heard rumbling where they were hiding before seeing a group of men. 

“Hand him over Sheriff,” one of them said. 

Before the sheriff could grab his weapon, they had him at gunpoint while others dragged William away screaming. 

He was dragged all the way back to town, “Please! I didn’t do it!”

His words fell on deaf ears. That night the town seemed to destroy William and whoever else they could unleash their rage upon. 

See as there was no getting through to them he yelled, I did it and Alexander took the lead!”

He knew the right person would hear the message in his confession. 

William was dragged through the town square as people hit him and called him names. In the center, there was a noose tied around his neck as not the men, but the women pulled the rope. After he was hung, his body was riddled with bullets before the people cut pieces of his body for souvenirs. Then as they were finally satisfied, they placed his head on a light pole and set it on fire. 

With all this going on, no one noticed Sandra standing in the background. Filled with rage, she embraced the ways of her ancestors. Her grandmother had taught her many years ago that she would know when to use her special gifts. 

Calling on her ancestors, she placed her hands on the ground, “Ancestors, feel the innocent blood spilled here today. The blood of my love. He did not deserve this and neither did the ones before him. I declare today, until all wrongs are righted, there will never be peace. For as long as innocent blood is spilled, these streets shall forever crumble. Take the peace and take Alexander.”

The streets shook as a scream could be heard in the distance. That scream belonged to Alexander being dragged away before the mob even thought to look for him. Sandra walked off into the night away from the town never wishing to return. Now cracks fill the streets of the town and no matter how many times they fix them, they still crumble. 

Note: Cairo, IL. is my hometown. Although I put a twist of love in the story, William “Froggie” James was an actual person that was lynched for the murder of a white girl there in 1909. Many of us resident have been taught the story. He maintained his innocence and just before his hanging, he admitted and said a man named Alexander helped. That man was never found. Many say that because of all the bad that happened there, the streets are cursed and indeed are filled with cracks no matter how many times they were fixed. Let me know your thoughts in the comments as if you have heard of this story. I hope you like the sprinkle of love and fantasy I placed in it.

Submissive For Him

Artist Unknown

I stood in front of a melanated God,

One who seemed to debate every word that would come out my mouth.

If I said it was hot, he said it was cold.

If I said it was 12:01, he said it was past noon.

Every single thing was a debate.

I soon found he wanted to assert his dominance.

He was nothing like the men I had come across before.

My sharp tongue only fueled his desire to make me submit.

Submit to the inevitable,

One day he would rule my world and I would let him.

Me, the strong black woman that didn’t need to bow down to a man.

Those words I expressed to him one day,

The narrowing of his eyes showed his displeasure.

He then schooled me on the fact that submissive did not equate to weak.

Submissive in a woman was not being afraid to let the man lead and showing a man is nothing without his neck, his woman.

Submissive was accepting his vulnerable side the world was not privy to.

Submissive did not relinquish independence, it balanced the roles between two forces.

And submissive was not gender based,

For the right woman, the right man will submit when needed.

With that he won my heart,

Opened my mind to a new way of thinking.

The world will know my dominance,

But for him I will be submissive.

Simplicity

Riding down the boulevard

I reach over and hold your hand

It’s early,

So early it’s like we’re the only ones on the road

We take it all in

Crazy by India.Arie comes through the speakers

The soulful notes touches us deep within

No words are needed

Everything in this moment speaks for itself

The sky resembles a portrait come to life

With colors of red, pinks, and yellow

The sun slowly rises

Casting a light of simplicity

Of love everlasting

Beauty Unveiled

Another writing prompt

She walks into the room with style and grace

Encased in a dress of sensual black velvet

I’m ensnared by the beauty of her

She is surrounded by an aura that puts me at ease

While her red nails send me in a spiral of burning desire

I need to be close to her

Even if it’s only for a second

Finally, My wish is granted

She stopped in front of me and smiled

The moment will forever be embedded in my mind

That smile was the unveiling of the rarest crystal flower and the surrender of my heart.

The Feel Of It

Artist Unknown

I love the way it feels in my hand

The firmness of my grip as I hold it

The smoothness of its surface

The length that’s not too long and not too short

The boldness that fills me with the thoughts of its creation

The steady pleasure it releases

And also the disappointment of when it runs out

Now I am in need of another….

Pen

Note: If your mind was else where, shame on you. I’m just attempting to touch my humorous side today 😂.