national poetry month 2020

these words

if i have to write these words
by hand
and tell the rawness of it all then
please God
let my fingers be wrapped around a fountain pen
with some weight
because my body will need an anchor
and because when i’m holding a fountain pen
i feel ripe and full barreled and ready to spill
the truth, whole
and the words i’ll write
please God
let them be heavy
tears for the thirsty, eternal
and let them last
and last
and last
and last

here i am

here i am: woman 
walking on dry land
holding my breath
like i’m in deep water
somewhere out at sea
instead of right here in my living room
doing the complete opposite of what
is needed to survive 
at this time
during these times
blocking air and ease and peace
running in circles, in and out of rooms
making more piles
instead of straightening out the crooked things
that were there before the land dried up 
and the times became trying
and breathing became hard to do

haibun / is that weird?

There are things in my life that insist on being unruly and resistant to reconciliation. For now, the particulars of those things aren’t important. Just know that they are unruly and resistant, and that I like order. Order is beautiful. Harmony sounds like peace to me. But these things in my life that insist on being unruly and resistant to reconciliation don’t give a fuck about my peace. They never have. So like vultures they circle me. And like a Black girl ready to fight, I vaseline-up. Unruly and resistant my ass. Hands up. But before long though, we’re dancing. Me and my unruly things are dancing. Possessed and trance-like. And there’s no order here. Or reason. Just chaos. Pure and unhinged. And I guess…I guess I like this too. 

is that weird? tell me
the truth about loving the
darkness and the light

haiku and high praise for the bees outside my window

1.
we should be like bees
flying because we want to
forgetting our form

2.
the bees go to work
touching everything around
new life at their feet

3.
heavy bodies but
they can fly and that’s all that
has ever mattered

4.
the impossible
made possible for those who
can fly but won’t try

5.
when death comes i pray
i’ve finished my work and loved
the sting out of life

a new beginning, a new earth

everything out                 there
i can feel right here
inside my chest
which has always been 
a kind of holy terrarium of
dirt and divine things that breathe
like  out                  there
was except now it’s dry 
and echos bounce off shatter proof glass
whole patches of me windswept 
and tired
and then someone says
HERE, DRINK, LIVE!
and i gather my dry bones
and i go look 
and marvel at the mirage because
there is no water    out                  there   
and because now my hopes and prayers
have no safe land to seed
i breathe 
inside my chest
a new beginning, a new earth