to the 

infringement made upon

the civil rights of BLACK

LIVES that MATTER as much as my own.

“We the People of the United States of America” … establish Justice … 

Oh, really? Justice for who? Oh, you mean those Americans whose skin tone matches the parchment paper those words were written … 

Did you know it’s been two centuries since a fountain pen inked the U.S. Constitution into existence? And in that time, the document has only been amended 27 times, in seventy-three thousand days.

That’s approximately once every seven years, the same for the human body to change. I guess you could say we’re overdue for an amendment to update the U.S. Constitution, one that reflects the modern day and its current population including the 42 million humans of color residing on this United States of America land. 

This is not a rant, it’s an awakening. My fellow Americans, it’s a call to action to rise from your stupor, I mean slumber, to stand up from your couches, to reach for something 

Other than the remote. You can no longer avert your eyes from the zombie apocalypse, that is YOU in the mirror 

Not some character dressed up in a costume waiting for direction. Look closer: 

Beyond the skin and bones to your soul 

It feels a bit uncomfortable: 

Once you start, 

to see,  

You can’t 




midnight rambling

resting at midnight
a day’s worth of spring cleaning
just a memory

even now amazed
by the accumulated
clutter of the week.

each time I deep dive
into the mess, I wonder
how does it get here?

gremlins, dust bunnies
cohorts in a filthy crime
to debunk order.

I am wistful for
stylized minimalism
and satisfied with

apartment feng shui:
brownies, freshly baked, still warm.
the sound of thunder

rain splash down on earth.
my eyes grow weary and tired
I succumb to sleep.


how much we have
how much we waste
of all that we are given
so much is used in haste.

i’m too busy, i have no time:
these are fruitless useless words.
do you not realize:
we have the ability to take control,
to rule the sands of time
rather than be governed by them

our voices object to this idea.

rather than embrace it
they reject it
leaving circumstances to fate
admonishing free will.

it is a poetic thing, this resistance to
decision-making and responsibility.
a tragedy really,
for all those realists who refute prioritization
i can’t help but wonder
how many,
if given the chance
would turn back time.

enem me

misplaced, forgotten
sometimes that’s how I feel. As
if i’m missing me

and where I’m supposed
to be, right here right now. me.
Today the sun shone

down, caught me off guard.
On this day my mind’s drifting
along, unaware.

Suddenly shaken
awake, forced to see:
I’m floating in space.

One moment disrupts
my oblivion,
from life’s big story.

One day I hope for
courage to fight the demons
(child-like and yet real)

to free myself once
and for all: my worst
enemy is me.

timing and logic

LOGIC, the lack thereof
anxious to move forward
frustrated by time standing still

I push him, urge him, ask him
may we go shopping for a bed
so you can sleep soundly in your own space
me in mine

a rebuttal is all i get
he wants to go on a Saturday
he wants to wait for the doctors and their answers
he wants to be sure

sure. sure of what?
just a few weeks ago he was full steam ahead
No I don’t need physical therapy
No I don’t need to stay downstairs

I am not allowed to say no.
I have to grin and bear it and wait for next Saturday
Another week of restless sleep, and excuses not to come home
just so he can be sure.

The only thing to be sure of is that I will lose my mind
while he is whiling away the time of his refuge.
If I survive without mental harm,
I will surely need a chiropractor by then.

Tell me

What makes someone turn
their head in my direction?
Is it tangible:

the swing in my step,
the sun kissed tan of my legs,
or maybe, they caught

the shake of my head,
me laughing at a puppy:
that child within me.

I am all woman:
confident and insecure,
brave and yet frightened

Sexy innocent
bold mysterious, humble
with so much at stake,

how am I to know
what my future wisdom wants.
Soon it will call me

from an undefined
place, and I will contemplate
if I need to know

where my will takes me,
the decisions I will make,
if i will be here,

in the in between.
Will love find its way to me
before I grow old,

will I be alone
a lone, world traveler?
Should I, shouldn’t I.

My middle self thinks
’tis better to be surprised
than filled with regret.

buried underneath
my questions remain unknown
and so I go on.