the flow of letting go

Releasing can be such sweet sorrow
but ,O, the ways i will be better tomorrow.
unmoved by the song
and ceasing to dance along
to the wave that confused
yet has failed to produce

Releasing has caused an outpour of tears
that now allow my fears
to be relinquished along
with hopes of  passed futures
and the drip feels good

Releasing is sweetness
after all letting go also means outsmarting weakness
allowing one’s heart and spirit the space
to now receive
an overflowing stream of God’s blessings

releasing has taught many lessons
with them I take new direction
I, now,  emancipate the things of the past
that have not grown
that have not shown
to match the prosperity of my holy current


Loving me: Let me explain

I be busy lovin me
Like I love spring breezes
and honey suckle under shaded tree
like popsicles on warm sunny days
and bicycle splashes when I play
like bees are too busy to sting
and birds be chirpin high up in the trees

I just be busy lovin me
like the  last bite of my lunch time sammich
and sunrises on beach mornings
Like sculpting clay into a masterpiece
and the sculptress is always me
By the hands of God whom guides thee
and I just be so thankful

Chile, I just be too busy lovin me
Like I love outrageously (and hopefully contagiously)
My sometimes achy knees
And always need to sneeze
The soft dip in my back
My itty bitty titties
Peppery freckles
The scent of my yoni, fresh fruits and flowers
My little knubby fingers that hold this pen
The almost invisible dimples that crate when I grin
My noticeable double chin
The sensitive ears that pick up the ancestors’ movement
Delicate compassion
and My cute but not so cute feet that
Shine in the sun
when I am on the run
Toward destiny

Loving me be like heaven
and don’t we all strive to dwell in that peace,

well that is why I’m always busy….


Goddess to Queen

Well, Queen, I’ll tell you
life for me aint been no crystal stair

It’s been made of earth
muddy waters
natural disasters,

and beautiful

I carried crates
of unnecessary worry
up the pasture
I’ve planted flowers along the way
sometimes I planted beautiful orchids
sometimes plucked ethereal  fly traps


many failed crops
finally, my fruits feed, and
my flowers peek prosperity
along the rail
now, fresh air and color prevails

cuz I carry an umbrella decorated in seeds
and when it rains
they fall to the ground

but I’se kept on climbing
following the sun
and reaching for light
at the top, I met my peace
on my staircase made of green

because life for me aint never gon be
a crystal stair



OG (According to Proverbs 31)

I’m the muthafuckin OG
the original Goddess
and master of the sea
I’m the mind molder
peripheral engager
and lion tamer
I turn boys into men
men into kings
kings into Gods
and ruler of the supreme

I’m the muthafuckin time stopper
shape shifter and baby maker
The prototype
and limelight
the outline
and sound wave

I’m Oz
the yellow brick road
the wicked witch of the east
and the fairy god mother

Currently embracing my inner(G)
my energy
and my
Inner (G)

G as in Goddess
G as in Gangsta
G as in Grand dame queen beast
G as in Good God she’s awake!
G as in Got damn nigga you ain’t figured it out yet?

G as in I’m the little g that
represents the Big G
because God always speaks to me

G as in she don’t have to hate
because life is abundant
and her third eye sees past FEAR
she’s too busy giving thanks
and blessings are thunder storming
they come in with a thickness
she witnessed
God moving

She sees clearly what God is doing
She’s proving
with a little hope, faith, and love
all desires manifest
so she (G)iggles at the future that is to come
because while y’all tryna figure out
what she’s talking about
I’m already on the next one

G as in guide
because while the ancestors direct her,
she leads the masses
she even whips mastahs asses
while she informs the wicked to suck her dick
‘cuz ima namaslay
they asses

the bitch lit, on fire, while it rains and wind blows, planted in soil
underneath rainbows
she builds her empire

She’s the muthafuckn ONE,
not the ONE for fun, but
the ONE for the long run

If you ain’t conditioned
get the fuck off the track field
practice jumping hurdles
get your heart rate up
and yield to get ready for the heaven
she brings

She’s such a fuckin lady
with lightening bolts in her purse
tread lightly
or you’ll get caught riding in a hearse
She bad as shit
someone should lock her up
but even in shackles she rebels
‘cuz she’s already been to hell
with no desire to return
she broke out and niggas still don’t know
she missin’
it be my soft ass that
they kissin’

I’m the muthafuckin OG
currently embracing my inner(G)
Thanks for riding my energy

[Written May 19, 2016]


Nefertiti is Back


Rhythm and poetry (RAP), they say. Try it, they say. I have been attempting to teach myself how to rap since the brink of the summer. I would wake up; then I would listen to some instrumentals. Whatever would come would come. It was fun and therapeutic. The Tupac Back instrument came up on the YouTube line up, and I spazzed. The song above is the playful, yet serious result of that creative moment. 🙈 #rookierapper #rookieyear #rookierappersbelike #rookierapperoftheyear #love #light #joy #reincarnation


Beyond a Poet

After the praise
I usually stand in a daze
at how God’s glory has manifested through me
but is God through with me?
Granted, she, helped me get
but only so I could help you,
I mean them,
and the others who have not yet seen
the other side of struggle
but then I often snuggle
with the compliment
not understanding my words were only
supposed to offer refuge
to the misused
yet, I just used it
like a tool to build a fence around my self-image
enjoying credit
for work, I in fact
did not do.
I stand here
full of—–
almost missing my next assignment
all because I fell out of alignment
with the heaven sent
God the Creator
then me (a soldier)
Used only to secure
the win
For him, or her
Whichever tickles your fancy
I shouldn’t be here for fans–see
We were all blessed
to be a blessin’, or
an outspoken lesson
let me not become a pawn
stuck in the head lights of
pride’s ride
but rather a pillar for God’s messages.
I just began a new poetry workshop  with “The Poetry Project” in Greensboro, North Carolina. Today our facilitator and mentor, Josephus III, challenged us to write on the topic “Beyond the Poem.” He challenged us to consider our actions in the moment an audience member pull us to the side after a performance to praise our work. Do we say thank you and keep it moving? Or Do we engage in conversation furthering the person’s understanding of our work and truly seizing the experience? You have just read the poem I wrote during the workshop.

Following Zora

And of all the people in the world to be, she chose to be herself, and more and more herself. That, too, is something.

-Alice  Walker on

Zora  Neale Hurston

I want to be a writer

To retell life as I see it
applying literal imagery to all intricacies
of the cruel world

I want to give light to the lightless
to provide a guide to those who dwell in the dark
my words will prove to be an holy ark.
on boarding those who chose to pick from my
apple tree

I want to provide solace to the soulless
to give the lifeless comfort
a fort home to those attempting to fight the fight
I want to make words dance
to give words swift graceful movement
like daises in the summer breeze

I will be mean.

Telling the tell like it is what it is
only the conscious will read my
words with eye number three

I will write stories
and novels
and poems
and plays
and songs
and essays
and quotes
and notes
that will turn this world upside down!

I am ready to accept the license
my pen rewards me.
I want to set free the subconscious
me that had been dying to provide
social commentary to this wicked, wicked
systems of things
I do see.

I will write with my third eye.
I will read with my fourth and fifth
My words will be medicine that the GODS prescribe.