Internal Familiar Systems

Forgiveness, tolerance, and all out watching and being vigilant without being in survival mode. Taking it easier. I wrote this poem about the inner parts that speak under the roof of one house. Ease to us all. Tolerance!

Internal Familiar Systems:

Kissing your light side

watching your dark

our dark parts want to make amends

I don’t want them two as friends

cause this is my girl

and he says this is my mens

mens denoting more than one within one

parts/scattered/ with all that inner chatter

what do I mean?

like he wants to be sweet

and he wants to be an ass

this one is OCD neat

and this one’s just an ass

so when we meet

my interpersonal connections and communications are on levels

can’t skirt it

the mammalian and reptilian say

This one’s alright and this is an aching civilian

the internal familiar system is watchin’

and I’m telling you, you will get tired of boxin’

thinking, maybe we just don’t get along

it’s much deeper than that

cause you got parts that are cool

and though you may hide it

another that just a brat

could live alone and be totally fine

then all of a sudden,

here comes your inner feline

and you know what cats do

don’t want to listen

but will need some food

(and a cuddle)

oh yeah that’s just about it

the internal familiar system

on the surface and much deeper than that

a whole inner kingdom and queendom speaking out of one mouth

under the roof of one house

is it any surprise one part says she’s so skinny

another says she so fat

one says I’m sure, and another missed that

so in our dealings…

If you can get past this

If we had enough tolerance

and knew this exist

the possibilities are endless


Orator: Figures

It’s been a while since I stepped on stage for spoken word or orations. Yet last night I was sitting and spewing a few words. This piece is called Figures.

You had me dressed for church but didn’t dress me for life

where I needed that real advice

the stirring noise/the loud lessons

tapping at the door

calling my shit out/ to clean house

cant hide forever behind laundry lists and smiles

where the lips move and the eyes stare off into miles

eventually itchin’ to live in the light

stand in my power, speak my truth, and fight the good fight


a boy and a girl/sex scratching to escape

a pin of broaches, emotional violence, and utter lies

mean while, I’m making copies of dicks

adding vibrational technologies

in worship of clits/ asking us to free a concept

and make it ever more legit

in other words the templates not right


you came in this world by copulation

a child wake wha! in the center of a fucked nation

shook by its convorting with social dignity lies

closed off by secrets

run child to the edges and outer skits of the patriarchs thighs

dress to live on the fringe

where the crabs do not grab to pull you back in


America and the western industrial civil lies world

where romantic fantacism and dreams, oh what a whirl


you know you try to be better

better yourself for yourself

no, negro please better than your brother

cause this is competition

show me a man who can hold the hand of his fellow man

without saying

(um…dude that’shos gay)

then I will show you an ally

show me a girlfriend who will make you tea when you staying up all night full of a dream

and you both got talent you willing to stoke, and prod, and light and feed in each other

to draw it out and better our world,

call that girl a friend

anything other is a social dignity lie

convorting and shit

lets free this concept and make it legit


you had me dressed for church but didn’t dress me for life

where I needed that real advice

the stirring noise/the loud lessons

tapping at the door

calling my shit out/ to clean house

cant hide forever behind laundry lists and smiles

where the lips move and the eyes stare off into miles

eventually itchin’ to live in the light

stand in my power, speak my truth, and fight the good fight

well…damn, some of us had to figure it out.


I am on the island of Kauai, my hair has had a lot of sand and tiny sea shells in it from visits to the beach. Just recently I was on the shores and as I was leaving I slightly jumped and asked a friend, hey! is there sand in my hair? She said no, that it was on my face. Thank goodness. After weeks of wash and rinse most of the tiny shells and sands have come out of my dreads. This journey with my wild hair has inspired this poem. There is something about hair that is so important to me. I am reminded of Samson. I am remembering black folk tales of hair and how folks would say watch who you let touch your hair. So in honor of these deeply curly antennae …

Black Girls Hair

Your hair stands on top of your head my child

it points in all directions

sponges suck the water up

don’t let it be too dry

antennas for the heavens

speak of cosmically

wrap them up and hide them underneath beautiful decorated cloth

or t-­shirts you don’t want to wear anymore

or hide them in a sun hat, brim level to your eye

big huge hair you’ve got my girl

dress it in oil

smell likes coconuts

smells like chocolate

smells like dirt

is that sea shells trying to escape from the beach

dry them out

shake them roughly

use your nails

clean your scalp

and please take care your hair

I am remembering this song by Regina Spektor as well


We are all in seperate beds
My room door closed
Came down off the mountain to a plateau
Breath heavy till lifted light

We are across from each other
Keys on the dresser
Mirror turned away
I am really here
Manipulating what moves in the air
Suspended by string

Its been quiet
We sit together
My every foot step announced by the beam of my smile
Its from someplace where they meet

we play games
Fighting sticks
Can you feel when my hand is near
You had better practice
Sweet dreams

Am i confessing or digressing
These things aren’t speedily played with anymore
I practice discernment
I know better now
I digress it is done
We venture to our seperate rooms right across from each other
It is my keys behind the locked door on the dresser
I sprawl across the bed I will not share

The storm is over
Please don’t be jaded

Touch them not

Thunder in the belly
Air in the throat

tell you i have ventured in your head
know the jumble of your thoughts
Wouldn’t you believe i saw you walking by
Quiet footsteps

Left me lone
To hold my head
Grit my teeth
Facing down fears

Quick never to judge
I couldn’t get too far

I know what little I have felt


In these days of scorpion tales
Beheaded mantis
Dancing monkeys
Ripped sympathy sticks

Cold in the night
Chill and cool water pouring from clouds
I stare at them
So as not to miss what is coveted

You and Me
We are what I no longer know
It is in the mess
I would rather look at the clouds
Than fix what only one will confess
I have bared myself for you
Shut my mouth
Ignored the cry of my ego
Wanting to save itsself
Looking for a savior, me
And you forgot me

You didn’t even know me
You couldn’t have
Still the ego cries
Save my name
And I wouldn’t
I won’t
I would rather look at the clouds
And bare my heart
Pull back the shoulders to get a better look
The heart cries out
I am open
all the mistakes in the world
Will be forgiven

Single Handed ~ a poem

Tell me which road you’re on
I could meet you
With gathered red apples and
Foriegn seeds
You could only eat
I will drink
You can only think
I am unattached

So much so I believe I can fly
I believe i can wade the valley on my own
Teach ghosts
And lay a bible on my faith

Older women have looked me up and down
Men have been shy
I have dressed in safe clothes
Paid no notice to my really curly hair
Modest and wild

But theres…
The many ways I think to make a heart jump and surprise the unexpecting
All the stories I have hidden and thrown away
Of bodies I have coveted
Of tears and film
And all the days I have wanted more than twice


Hiding inside all of these clothes
Who is the fire kidding
god of sex
Not enough fingers
Not enough toes
Digging for a hug
Feigning for a grip

Play on nerd
Pretend you geek
What is one and two
But when the doors are shut
And only you are watching
All the ways, words, and abandon no one else needs to know

Its like finally touching solid ground

Modernity, Penny Royal Tea, and Gods in Them

Modernity, Penny Royal Tea, and Gods in the Them

A purple goblet

glass cone,emblem of a white mare

metal base with the rococo finish

a shadow on a tabletop in a modern kitchen

penny royal tea, cup half full

wet lips

I have only so much to go

taste brings memories

side effects brings relief

to modernity!

fingernails on the bar

dress on my back

watching like a camera lens

feet too high above the land

must walk them down to earth

flowers pucker

One day

for now when fall is here

winter comes



where is my torch to traverse the tunnels of this time

this season

welcome to the cold

Ancient eyes with so much to say

mediums have voices for one mouth

lone beneath a starry sky

lights on in the distance

quiet your house for the night

I wonder

I hope for you

may your breadcrumbs be hearty

my torch be a burning beacon to lead you to my arms

to the heart of my voice which collects for you stories

by memory I will recite

one day

do not drink too much rain

save it for the earth

Much ado about Freedom

Sit still

Allow the clouds to whirl about you
Pay little attention
Till the fog clears

Strip the syrup from your skin
Break the moulds and climb away
Lose one mind for the other
This might be your independence day

Ignore but don’t be ignorant
Believe in your archetype
Jesus, Mary, Storm, and Queen
Moon, Snake, and Diamond
Gambit flinging fire scenes
Banchees screaming find them
Sirens singing on the rocks
Steer the ship to harbour
Rabbits with their ticking clocks
Breach the shallow water

Doggy paddle to bay
Ignore the thundering clouds
Mad hatter poetry
You just want your cup of tea
He will never get old
only you may age
You can either stay and pretend
Or leave

No one will care

Trust in Me

Don’t think they care too much to commit their children early to the holy spirit
They, I think, are nervous of requests
Maybe if their child wasn’t a representation of their faith and vulnerability
Maybe if the baby wasn’t a representation of a heart on a sleeve
Easily they shake as a poplar tree
Ptsd with a spot of pee

A woman practicing feeling safe in trust
While hurdling through space
Like comet dust
Aint got the right mind for
Fancy shoes and fake jewelry rust

The unknowns been tapping her door for years
But before, all one heard
Was her spite, spit, and tears
Playing sassy sex games
Hiding in a community of queers

Just cause she stood on the sands
Dont mean she got to the bank
But love will do that to you
Trail you along
Bring you out
Drop you in a cream of cake

Shower you in the cold of water
When you need to be clean
Sugar in the faucet
Tears down the stream

Now you realize you must stand alone in your power
Only if my cup runneth over, will I give you medicine from my saucer