Still He Resisted: Black Boy Beaten In DC

Even now, even here, even under blow and gun we resist.   Still he resisted when they stopped him without cause.   Still, he resisted when they snatched him from his dog.   Still, he resisted, arms folded behind his back. Still, he resisted, eyes burnt bright with pepper. Still he resisted, punch to the…

The Horn (a poem)

“a setting adorned with the souls of children and babes disguised as men with unheld hands, course over brass buttons,
stinking of cigarettes and reefer -“

To My Lover, A Poem

o calmly wild;

there’s pure ecstasy in the way You see (through) me

the way You rip me apart in the name of edification

how do You find purity in my despair?

Poem of The Day: Roses & Revolutions

and I heard the lamentations of a million hearts
regretting life and crying for the grave,
and I saw the Negro lying in the swamp with his face
blown off,
and the northern cities with his manhood maligned and felt
the writhing

black. gold. and god. (for Ruby)

By Vernon Jordan, III i. raising me I hope was easy. Like the Sun of a spring day, the ease of a Fall breeze; grandma, I remember you teaching me to wash my childish, brown hands, my boney coal elbows, and knees.   You carried your skin like a rope of jewels ‘round neck —…

Hip Psalms

Dark and fat with star and misery she could not swallow me  into anonymity, hips swinging blacker than her Cosmos, smile brighter than Moons mighty, known and named Ancestors wrought my spine  Soul onyx with the remnants of shooting stars aiming for purpose found in my stride  Of black gumbo soiled through ivory incantations cross…

10 Shots To Freedom: Alva Braziel & Amerikkkan Treatment

Image via (titled “America’s Gun Culture, We Are America”) 10 shots ran through the body of Alva Braziel because gun rights don’t apply to black and blackened bodies in these United States unless Of course, we are speaking About and traveling the tunnels Bullets Cut through black flesh undeterred by myths of law and…

Moment of Birth (A Poem)

“I was a bloody, plastic, mess

they whispered tragedy over me,

but I was the closest thing

to God they’d ever seen –

my halo was fresh


woke up from death.”

Energy Revisited (A Hip Hop Ode To Pulse & Orlando)

“and the Orisha got me covered
while you scheming to planning
shoot up the movie theater and shoot up a church
just when the wounds was healing its beginning to hurt
shoot at a black man and shoot up a club
when you niggaz gone take the blinders off
enough is enough”

Partial Justice (a poem)

Pieces of my me,littered about this apartment, seemingly organized into piles of too little, too much and other offending categories. My me, there! Sprinkled about like dirty laundry, soiled to the point behind tide and rolled up as a public display of what we’re not going to do. My me, circumcised and misread, from Kenta…


“to be born
is to have ravished
a womb
with tepid consent.
Pay your debt
with your life.”