in search of temples

have you ever tried to pray your way home? have you met tongues that can silence the tempest? have you spit daggers into the belly of death? have you heard earth groan under the weight of glory? when you dream do you chase the arrows that shoot out before you? and do you know you…

nausea.

You ask them to point you to a woman Any woman, who does not know What it means to be robbed To have herself taken away You ask them to  point you to a future Where you don’t still feel his breath Know his hands against your skin Where the pain no longer stirs Inside…

freedom’s creed

I believe in fire I believe in rage I believe in the experience We like to call pain I believe in resistance I believe in the free I believe in a future We may never see I believe in colour I believe in sound I believe that new life Will rise from the ground I…

ashes and alchemy

To my friends who have dared to confide in me, I thank you. I thank you for trusting me with your stories, with your pain. Many times I have sat silently while you open up your wounds and let me see inside. Many times my heart has broken when I realise that it is an…

“Someone can be madly in love with you and still not be ready. They can love you in a way you have never been loved and still not join you on the bridge. And whatever their reasons you must leave. Because you never ever have to inspire anyone to meet you on the bridge. You…

Medice, cura te ipsum

  For a long time, I held Jung’s archetype of the Wounded Healer, like a precious gift. The belief that my own wounds could give me the power to heal. The eyes to see what the unscathed miss, the tenderness of one  who knows pain. But maybe some wounds are too deep. And there isn’t space for bleeding…

Night songs

I. We talked for hours On our backs, we spoke futures into being Your fears found their voice And with mine, made harmony We listen to the birds stir And smile Knowing our secret will be Kept safe for the night. II. Cigarettes and lanterns Tepid glows of digital clocks Constellations mixed with airplanes Rage meets…

To be a girl

Black girls don’t cry; Always strong, put up a fight. Pretty girls don’t try; Forever young, a blessed sight. Church girls do good; Smile and pray, with grace and glee. This girl asks could We just step back and let girls be? – nathania Featured image found on http://www.leicestershirevillages.com

Dear Mr Hughes

A man once asked “What happens to a dream deferred? Does it dry up  like a raisin in the sun?  Or fester like a sore–  And then run?  Does it stink like rotten meat?  Or crust and sugar over–  like a syrupy sweet? Maybe it just sags  like a heavy load. Or does it explode?”…

More than fiction VI.

VI. Sing me a song Of a woman who knew love and gave it I sat across the room From my mother and her mother And I engraved the image into my memory Grandmother, nearly eighty Yet her only wrinkles Were lines from years of laughing through struggle Frail hands laced by coarse skin From…

More than fiction V.

V. Sing me a song Of a girl who got love and kept it You gave me your heart And I held it too tight A thing far too precious To be put out of sight You gave me your heart And it made me real scared Of all that came with it All the…

More than fiction IV.

IV. Sing me a song Of a boy who spoke love and meant it Save your bars Save your rhymes Save your Googled chat up lines Save your breath Save your swag Save the packets in your bag Save your cash Save your drinks Save those tenuous friendship links Save those facts Save that CV…