Poem 12.23.21 – Note to self

Note to self. Come back to that. What’s wrong?!?It’s the flawsIt’s all that, raw. It’s the craws attached,Not the open Paw. Note to self. Come back to that. What’s wrong?!?It’s the flawsIt’s all that, raw. It’s the craws attached,Not the openPaw. As I stare in your face Its clearly lies + Race. It’s on theContinue reading “Poem 12.23.21 – Note to self”

Meditation 8.29.21 – Good Boy/ Good Taste

Grandma says to this day, “you’re such a good boy,” and I’m inclined to believe her. In fact, it’s been an existential imperative that I explicitly hear these words and see myself. So much of my past used to taste freshly cooked in my mind; more of a gumbo than any fine dining, my memoriesContinue reading “Meditation 8.29.21 – Good Boy/ Good Taste”

Poem 8.28.21 – unbothered.

Much like lightning my spirit’slight streams across ours eyes brightest in the dark of night. The thunder of my voice crashes through your ears, in spite of your wishes for silence and still. Pride, mean more to me than your prowess, your lazy critique of the supernatural. For my excellence is akin to a secondContinue reading “Poem 8.28.21 – unbothered.”

Meditation: Where The Hood At?!?!

Why I feel most safe in “the hood”, and you could too! Recently I had the pleasure of connecting with old friends from Georgetown. Admitting I’ve a hard time bonding with my classmates post graduation. I had a hard time truly bonding while I was there. A sentiment not unique to me, but easily unpacked,Continue reading “Meditation: Where The Hood At?!?!”

VIDEO: COMMON GOOD: Mission Never Changed

The year 2020 marked the Ten-year anniversary of my time at the Global Youth Village. Ten years after spending weeks with Iraqi and American youth developing peace-building skills and cultural pluralism I was invited back to discuss how a decade of service and activism has brought to life my idea of global citizenry. We discussContinue reading “VIDEO: COMMON GOOD: Mission Never Changed”

A Land of Lore And Hymns

I live in between breaths Hollow are my words, for haute hymns are felt before they’re heard and the dead’s echos are canon. A rhythm rises from the soil promising rapture. First line, felt as love, A second line, a round imitating the first is met Fool crowds gather, lured by a land’s echo ofContinue reading “A Land of Lore And Hymns”

Poem 12.9.20: Seasoned Black

I’ve done it. I’m officially an adult. That’s right folks, I am the dog that caught the car; watch as I lose myself to the unfamiliar feeling of getting exactly what I’ve worked toward. Don’t take my word for it, this certification came from above me. Through disciple and a lot of burns, I’ve masteredContinue reading “Poem 12.9.20: Seasoned Black”