Motion, Artistic Nuances, Tantric Realities, and Anthology


The smile on my face..Priceless. Continue reading

My Mommy’s Birthday Song

It seems almost ridiculous for me to buy a birthday card for you.  Two main; pertinent reasons why.   First, I’m a writer.  Second; and the most important, there is no card, or letter, or monument  created by anyone other than myself, that would say or express half of what I want and need to say…to you.

As long as I can remember, I have watched you.  I have admired you.  I have questioned you and some of the decisions that you made.  I have loved and even disliked you (at times).

But, the one resounding and consistent that YOU … Continue reading

Ebony Bones

U.K. sensation Ebony Thomas, aka, “Ebony Bones”, is transforming the air waves and fogging up the monitors with her intriguing style. Her sound is a mixture of Afro-punk, rock, and funkadelic.

Independently, thrashing down stereotypical brick-walls, she kicks high in her blond Afro and combat boots. An origami rainbow walking, she screeches and wails her song (our song)..her colorful anthem shouts “Hell, YEAH!! BLACK GIRLS ROCK..and we ROCK HARD!”

Listen to “Warrior”


and check her out on Myspace

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Like … Continue reading


Black nails..scrape; striping your forearm, I watch streaks fade from Scarlet to Blue.  Tinted Purple fingerprints mimic my grip.

Facing you..Green eye to Brown. Wide, Kohl lashes flicker fast.  Moist Crimson lips..twist between White teeth nibbling Pink…creating warm Fuchsia.

Tightly pulling Ivory. Wrestling Magenta.

Grabbing Beige. Tugging Yellow. Yanking Burgundy.

Clutching Caramel. Pushing Almond. Pinching Ebony.

Grappling Ginger. Straddling Cream. Covering Copper.

Tasting Hazel. Sipping Coffee. Pressing Honey.

Continue reading

I found YOU!

“Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself. Continue reading

To me

A smile like yours won’t ever go- I won’t let it.

Truth: Seems like courage hasn’t been much of me, lately. A feather just hasn’t floated by or maybe I just haven’t noticed.
To be inspired when my spirit is already lit, is a bit tricky.
In and out of life, I fly.
Everyday passing, and Night after Night falling.

I dance my dance and hum my daily hymn.
My spirit paints my lips and colors my eye lids.
I shout love and laugh loud. I teach and guide. Humble and honest, peaceful and poised.

Continue reading

When it hurts so bad

I can ‘t help but relate this to the words in a song by Lauryn Hill “When it hurts so bad, why does it feel so good.” This hurts. It really hurts. It’s like a sunken lost piece of my rib, that has wandered through my body searching for it’s “fit”. It feels sore. Achy. It feels ill. It feels misplaced, pointy, a constant pinching in my side.

I cough; but it won’t come up. I sneeze; but it won’t come out.

I cry but it won’t stop hurting. I scream but it doesn’t scare. I yell … Continue reading

while you sleep

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You wrap me up.

Heavy breath behind me, hot and simmering around my forehead, bellowing into my face

Your yellow arms cuff me… keeping me safe.

Through glossy eyes..I  gaze at the red curls of hair along your skin. Pink nails on thick, long, fingers… Sturdy veins protruding up to your shoulder.

Held tight, nestled in your elbow, I feel the warmth in your chest, the closeness of your bones.

Hollowed and Curved, your body bends to shelter me.

Your knees slightly raised…to lift me.

In your sleep your chin leans..allowing you to kiss me. You huff … Continue reading

My soul is tired.

Make a fist and stand up for your rights

I’m tired.

My soul is tired! Tired of politicizing. Tired of Fighting injustice. Tired of standing up for those who can’t stand for themselves. Tired of writing, tired of marching, tired of requesting, tired of begging, tired of forcing, tired of 36 hr. days…

I’m tired of being able to see! I’m tired of being able to hear!

I’m tired of crying. I’m tired of bags under my eyes. I’m tired of not having time…for ME.

My … Continue reading

THINK Big!!! Thoughts become Realities!

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African-American folk art and Mixed Media

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Expats Post

Write to Live, Live to Write
Writing..and Creating are my LIFE..but there's always more to do..and unfortunately lines haven't figured out how to write themselves, yet. So, many projects are left unfinished and stories untold...Here's some scribble:
Poker face..getting ready for a party.
(Add to it, if you like)
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