RIP Maya AngelouRead more "Maya Angelou: Warrior, Writer, Wonderful Woman"
This is a love letter to Black women, my sisters. I have never loved anyone quite as hard as I have loved you. This is not to say that I have not loved others well or loved them deeply, because I have. But loving you is hardness, requiring the density of commitment fortified by an enamel of truth. This love is jewelry decorating the wrapping of my skin–I could no more remove it than I could unzip my blackness, fold it, and pack it in a suitcase.
I know living in this world in your skin is no picnic. Because you are more than breasts and thighs and ass; they can nibble at your three piece but never lay claim to your biscuits. They will try to consume you, nibble at the meat of your magic until they spit out bones, but they will never grind you to gristle: You carry the marrow of Nzinga. They can reduce you to angry, hot gravy, thick and brown, but never pinpoint your savor. They try to pluck your femininity, call it oversexed. And always, you scratch back when bitten. You are fly, love, but you ain’t never been chicken(heads).
Read more at Truly Tafakari…Read more "Love Letter to Black Women"
I was trying to comprehend exactly why the death of poet Amiri Baraka affected me so deeply. I cried when I heard. I haven’t read his work in years, I didn’t always agree with his politics and polemics, but still…I feel I lost something yesterday afternoon. Amiri Baraka spoke at Florida State when I attended, I think […]Read more "In Memoriam: Amiri Baraka Made My World a Black Poem"
Originally posted on RJ ELDRIDGE:
Hello Readers, If you missed the Verses and Flow premiere, or if you didn’t miss it but just want to see more of the poetry from that night, including a web-exclusive poem, “Fireflies,” or a replay of the Poet Moment, just click here and check them out! I’d love to know…
Fifteen years ago, Keith Rodgers held a get together in the living room of his Tallahassee, FL apartment. People sat on the sectional couch under dim lighting, hunched knees-to-chin on the staircase, or stood behind the kitchen counter and waited. Finally, Keith stood up the in middle of the living room with his back to […]Read more "Poets Changing Lives One Rhyme at a Time"