I'm a Growing Woman

PAD Challenge Day 3: Write an “Open (blank)” poem. Open Up Three  raindrops  kiss the middle  of my forehead Signals from a cloud or two Preparing to open up  for an ugly cry on a pretty Good Friday 💜D'ElegantOne 

PAD Challenge Day 2: Write an express poem. Order of Operations (PEMDAS) According to America’s standardized order of operations, being a Negro in America is an arithmetic expression. We are grouped by  (race and ethnicity), once transported in brackets, preserved and valued as commodity (traded…sold) to the New World where our freedom  was (exempted) and names (redefined) without consent. Modern African (Americans) historically, distinguished as Colors to an actual color (Black) Not once perceived as (human), always categorized as something (ugly) (The N-word. Coon. Monkeys. Apes.) Our grandmothers (good cooking, cleaning Mammies) Our mothers (called Sapphires when the helix of our DNA exposed the world to black diamonds and pearls) Our Fathers (a boy or a buck) (never seen as a Sir or a Gentleman…) Our children (Sambo or Pickaninnies…today’s (thugs) All of the above… always seen (suspicious) Let America tell her story, even she knows, She has more freedom significantly than ...

PAD Challenge Day 1: Write a seed poem. Mustard Seed If my spiritual mountains could talk, they would dare not whisper a lone sweet parable. They would shout, in the name of Jesus, declare and decree victory over my misfortunes. With poise, chapter after chapter, of despair and sorrow, their words would etch and sketch me out of hopelessness and calculated schemes orchestrated by life’s adversaries. Their words would color me pretty undefeatable; show and tell the peak of my faith; shape me in the symmetric of the eleven Hebrews. Down this visual Hall of Faith , by my lily in the valley, these mountains will faithfully announce the fate of my faith. They shall say: God is her only idol. She is a descent of Abraham; Her righteousness never took rest. She is an ark and captain of her sea, by and by, floating by faith through the flood of her grieving tears. She is an escapee to death and modern slavery; a modest scion of black success, steering new generations with wisdom and comfort. S...

  Farewell, March! My sweet April, it's almost time to meet National Poetry Month (NaPoMo) and my birthday season, and wake up my besties, Pen and Paper daily, again! I welcome you with open arms as I  warm up and activate my inner poet to actively participate in this year's  Poem-A-Day challenge. Since 2017, I've have greatly indulged in this wonderful experience to challenge myself,  my critical thinking and writing skills, and to simply just share what I find as my idea of true freedom (since my young poet age of 7...words of expression from the depth of my heart) without limitation, judgement, recognition, and validation.  Over the last few months, I’ve been more focused on close bonds with loved ones, traveling, journaling, healing, grief counseling, self-care, reading old poems and journals; reading, admiring and listening to other artists' work; and editing literature for future projects. In this new season, of lyrical art, as it approaches, I look forwa...

Farewell 2025: My greatest loss and wins….   My greatest loss this year: (deep breath…sighs) was the death of my beloved sister-friend. If I looked like I lost my best friend, I did. Now, I know what it means to lose a best friend and sister in one. I lost the first person I felt comfortable calling her a big sister. A person I talked to everyday by call or text. I lost a person who taught me so many things: foster and maintain healthy relationships, setting boundaries, importance of grief therapy (after losing my father), the importance of financial stability/investing, understanding politics (even if you disliked it) and government. She was really the smartest woman I knew. I miss knowing what to expect in the next year, in politics and government because of her. She never failed. This year, she truly got it right again…about everyone in office. This loss was unexpected and painful. It was nothing compared to the many deaths of loved ones in the previous year(s). I w...

PAD Challenge Day 30: Take one of your poems (or several of your poems) from earlier this month and remix it. Write a remix poem. Sticky Notes 2 Self ft. Loose-leaf Paper (This is the Remix) 🗒📝 Sometimes-at-times a 3x3 sticky note is too tiny.  Loose-leaf Paper can tell it all and rule on college rule.  Break it down.  I can go in depth,  line by line, about  the things I tell myself: "Dear Black Girl, remember why you rock and settle for nothing less." I have no choice but to be the catalyst in this generation . Because there are people like Queen momma told me that don't want me to have nothing at all.  Be nothing at all. They rather see me stumble and fall between crevices they didn't survive or build blocks to block me into being a flunkie. So, every time I win, achieve, prosper, I must do what what my ancestors didn't get a chance to do . That's my legacy. Be EXTRA good in a negative world so when people talk about me...