I'm a Growing Woman

PAD Challenge Day 12: Write a set poem. Victoria's Roller Set Back in the day,  Bronner Bros, Luster's and  Dudley Beauty designed  Victoria's Hair Secrets . In Fayettenam, it was imperative  to schedule to receive  five star beauty care in Vickie's chair.   After draping you in a black, red and white  salon cape, she would escort  you to a black luxury bowl  and lounging chair  with silver armrests;  If you were too short  your feet dangled in the air.  Mrs. Vickie would gently  massage shampoo and conditioner  into wet coily, dyed, or permed hair; Rinse as she swooped the water  around the edges with care; Comb from the ends to the roots  detangling without breakage of fine, medium and coarse strands  as females laughed and spilled tea about their family and friends. For extra volume  and a little more body, she would add a  whole Lottabody setting lotion,  from the roots to ends,...

PAD Challenge Day 11: Write a home poem. House of Grief  Lately, Grief has been a frequent guest in my family room of my traditional home of comfort where it tries to rent to own empty spaces, when I'm the only resident, paying in full for memories and pain, after gratefully entering and exiting a foyer of prayers daily. My living room is painted neutral and cozy with pretty memories of when I thought I had enough length of time by the width of life with my Father, grandmother, favorite elementary teacher, sister-friend and mentor that can no longer have a seat at the table of life with me. Instead, Grief has taken several seats quietly. It knows how to sip and be merry, break bread lovingly with me like we are loyal comrades, when it is really a recurring enemy that has tried to cook and poison me in my own kitchen.  I thought about emptying a few bottles from the wine cellar to drown the pain, but I can't find the strength to because they can't carry messages in a bott...

PAD Challenge Day 10: Write a mini poem. A Poet's heART Gallery  Poetry,  my atelier, where I  press n' paint my  heart on pages; Pitching  true colors  of my  soul to  the world. 💜D'ElegantOne 

PAD Challenge Day 9: Write a “(blank) But (blank)” poem. 💰 4 Wars, But Can't 🍽 the Poor if Tupac was alive i would instantly reply where's the lie? these are the coldest  wars to live by politicians rather hype up  chaos and capitalize spend millions to billions to trillions for fighter and bombers jets to fly- cause more economic disruptions  aggravating disparities and  environmental destruction psychological distress and post-traumatic stress  let innocent civilians die than allocate federal monies to supply subsistence to keep citizens alive Inspired by "They got money for wars, but can't feed the poor." - Tupac Shakur (Keep Ya Head Up, 1993) 💜D'ElegantOne 

PAD Challenge Day 8: Write a paranoid poem.  The b &w  Paranoia Activity  there are always thoughts about  how blacks physically fit  into phenotypical spaces  according to our genotypes... but one's color  like size does not fit all  even dark meat has been  picked apart from the white  balanced and weighted  differently down to whether  red or yellow bones are better  and  if those blacker  than a berry  has sweeter juice  all along acting  as if being black  wasn't good enough for b&w when really the color of black culture  diligently dressed us unanimously  in different seats at the table  where the history of our bloodline conjoined us  and we became music  in rhythm with  our Black American blues  a black chorus  singing the sweetest amazing grace one band under one sound and  soul food kept us coming back  for seconds or more of ...

PAD Challenge Day 7: Two-for-Tuesday prompt, write a dawn and/or dusk poem. Daybreak Before the daybreak, I lay vertical to the heart of dawn outside my window where I listen to the spring songs of American Robins, Carolina Wrens and Sparrows. My eyes rest while I stretch my imagination to wonder, how the sun feels about rising and warming up to this new day? Is it tired from shining the day before? Will it humbly share its light some more? Does it have enough charisma and energy to scatter, trace the shadows and figures of trinkets, nature and people? Is it confident enough to create and star in Earth's drama series? Will it be positively happy without any guilt or shame about it's natural brilliance? Or will it lay low, hideout patiently until Earth comes back around again? Nightfall After the sun call it a night, I wonder how the moon feels about his orb stepping out of the limelight of the sun onto the stage of nightfall; Sometimes at times, solo or leading a band of star c...