an ode to black girls with mud in their blood.

Black Girl (I Know)

Black girl
in the farthest back corner of the coffee shop
I know the ways you sit and wonder
how many times you will have to endure the
painful dissonance of your flesh pasted against the
whitewashed humdrum of a sea of faces that
look nothing like your own

Black girl
walking down the avenues
I know what runs through your head when
white men stare at hips legs chest ass with
objectifying gratitude and you
press your molars together so tight it feels as though
your jaw will collapse from the grit

Black girl
forcing mouth to widen
teeth gleaming in submissive attempts to
make your white colleagues more
at ease with your melanin
I know how your bones shrink with
every appeasing effort
I hear your screams for revolution

Black girl
bending tongues to appear
I know how stones fill the bottom of your lungs
how your chest caves in with each hollow memory of loss
your thick lips turn thin with unrequited empathy
backs bending backwards to go forward

Black girl
I know the way you love her
with all of your heart
stretching moon and sky just so you
can witness her widespread smile last into the
shadow of night
tracing sunspots on the staph of each fleshy margin

Black girl
resting your chin between light and dark
gray has always been too cold for your
bones to bare
trapping half-hearted hallelujahs between
your mother’s brows and
your father’s scowl
I know the way you pray for the sun to
set somewhere amid your war torn body
always forced to choose between
sun or moon

Black girl
I know the way you pray for lighter days
how you sharpen your edges to ward off
brazen bolts of insult
I know the way parched lungs thirst for love
lighting rumbling in the pit of your belly
laying breath in conversations of yesterdays and tomorrows

Black girl
I know

— Lauren Dunn, (via smalldeedsdunn)

“you suddenly knew you had the right to be explosive, to sling syllables through back doors, to make up your own damned words just when you needed them.”

— Patricia Smith, from ‘13 ways of looking at 13’  (via afrometaphysics)

Coleman Hawkins ~ Nativefunkk


Coleman Hawkins ~ Nativefunkk

“Know where you’ve been, but don’t live in the past. Know where you’re going, you need concrete goals, even if they’re short term, but the most important thing is to know who you are.”

— Black Girl in Paris written by Shay Youngblood

Girlfriends Train by Nikky Finney, Def Jam Poetry

because we as a people need reminding.

gamma rays

gamma rays

When Night Falls to Gray, 2014

When Night Falls to Gray, 2014